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#if it weren't for the fact that he thought he Had to stay with his family he would probably would have run away a long time ago
golden1u5t · 1 day
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worship you | s.r x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: @cosmicblogs
ꨄ genre: smut
ꨄ summary:  spencer takes notice of how you react to being praised so he takes that information and runs with it. 
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"what If he's saving them? the body parts." you thought aloud, twirling your pen between your fingers as you looked up at the rest of the team. you were the newest member so when everyone just stared at you, you thought that maybe your ideas was stupid. "nevermind, I- I just thought-"
"no, you're right. that's why we can't find the missing limbs, he's keeping them." spencer spoke up, he turned around to look at you for a second. "thats good. you're good, y/n."
you felt your face heat up at his compliment, suddenly sitting up straight and feeling the need to fix your hair. "oh! thank you, dr. reid."
he turned around to look at you from over his shoulder, a smile on his face before turning back around. you could feel the rest of the teams eyes on you and you could only hope that they hadn't picked up on your sudden nervousness. you excused yourself from the little room you all were gathered in at the police department, you needed to get out of the room with him before you embarrassed yourself.
+++
"you did good today, you thought of things no one else had considered." spencer smiled at you and set his bags on the bed he would be taking for the duration of your stay.
"thank you, dr. reid." you whispered and immediately shoved past him to hide your face but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back before you could. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked over you, he could tell you were flustered but he just couldn't pin point why. he always has been oblivious to his attractiveness.
"you don't have to call me that." he mumbled, his hand loosening on your arm. he moved to take your bags off your shoulder and out of your hand. "do you wanna shower first, pretty?"
your eyes widened by a lot and you literally had a keep yourself from moaning so instead of sticking around you darted into the bathroom, forgetting about the fact your clothes and all of your hygiene products were in the room with spencer but were too flushed to go back in there so the little travel sized products the hotel provided would have to do for the night.
while you were in the shower, spencer sat at the edge of his bed trying to figure out why you were so flustered. it didn't click until he replayed the conversations he had with you throughout the day, that's when he noticed the pattern. you only got flustered after he'd compliment you or after he praised you for your good work. he chuckled to himself and shook his head.
"spencer?" you cracked the bathroom door open and poked your head out, spencer looked up at the sound of your voice. "can you close your eyes? I don't have my clothes, only a towel."
"of course." he stood up and moved to sit on the opposite side of the bed that faced the wall, even though his back was towards you he still closed his eyes like he said he would. you doubled checked that he wasn't looking before unwrapping the towel and quickly put your night clothes on. you let him know that he could open his eyes, you put the rest of your things away and moved your bags to the floor before getting into the bed. "you wanna know something I figured out?"
"sure, is it about the case? if so, we should probably call the team." you started to reach for your phone but Spencer quickly told you that it wasn't about the case. he walked around his bed and sat on the side of yours.
"you like being complimented, praised." he hummed. you dry chuckled and shook your head, starting to deny it and say that you didn't know what he was talking about. "you get all shy and flustered. I think you like it when i praise you. can I do that, can i praise you more?"
you moved off of the bed, you weren't sure where you were going but spencer pulled you back before you could stray too far. he pulled you closer to him until you were standing in between his open legs. 
"spencer, I-"
"tell me if I'm overstepping, y/n. we can go to bed now and pretend it never happened." he whispered, he loosened his grip so you could easily slip out of his hold if you wanted to. you looked at him for a moment, heart beating fast in your chest. your eyes darted down to his lips and back to his eyes. you could've slipped out of his hold and did what he said, go to bed and forget about it, but you didn't; you sat down onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.
"please?" you breathed against his lips, feeling him wrap his arms around you and pull you impossibly closer to him. spencer brought his hand up to cradle the back of your head and crashed his lips into yours. things escalated almost immediately, you tugging his shirt off while he took yours off. spencer moved you onto your back and pushed your thighs apart to make room for himself. he nudged your jaw with his nose until you tilted your head back, he pressed his lips to your pulse point and smiled when he felt how fast your heart was beating.
"can I?" he asked, his hand playing with the waistline of your shorts. you nodded you head but quickly voiced your approval when you noticed the look he gave you.
spencer sat up and tugged your shorts and underwear down your legs, tossing them behind his head and leaning down to kiss you again. his hand traveled in between your bodies until he reached your cunt, his slim fingers running through your wet slit and smearing your arousal over your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.
"you're beautiful." he looked down at you, looking at how your lips parted to let out some of the most beautifulest sounds he'd ever heard, sounds he would never forget, sounds he would replay in his mind over and over again. he moved his fingers from your clit to prod against your entrance before slowly pushing one finger inside, drinking in the soft moans you let out.
"spencer, please- need more." your hips rutted up into him, his fingers felt great but they weren't enough and he seemed to understand that with just those few words.
even though you knew he needed to take his fingers out in order to give you want you really wanted, you still whined out at the loss. spencer grazed his wet fingers over your hip before leaning back on his legs and unbuckling his pants.
he had to get off of the bed in order to get his pants and boxers off but when he did he got back on the bed. you sat up on your elbows and looked down at his cock that rested over your cunt, eyes widening as you took in his girth. "oh my gosh- i don't-you're big."
you moved your hand and reached down to wrap your hand around him, your lips parted as you realized that your fingers didn't connect. spencer looked down at your hand wrapped around his cock, his hips jerked forward when you swiped your thumb over his red tip.
"you can take it, i know you can." he leaned down and captured your lips in a soft kiss. spencer's hips pushed forward into your hand when you started to move your hand, he caught your wrist and took your hand off of him. he sat up and hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you until they were flush against his abdomen. "ready, pretty?"
"yes, m'ready." you nodded, spencer guided his cock through your folds to smear your slick before he slowly slid into you. your head fell back as you gasped at the intrusion of his cock, the stretch was slightly painful. you hadn't been with anyone in a while, especially not with anyone as big as spencer.
he kept his pace slow for you, steadying himself with his hand resting above your head. he pushed your thighs apart and you wrapped them around his waist, letting out a soft moan as the pain subdued and was replaced with pleasure.
spencer kissed down your jaw and ghosted his lips over your collarbone. you used your legs to pull him further into you, whining when he pushed so much deeper into your cunt. "you want more?"
you nodded your head quickly. spencer sat up and grabbed your hips, snapping his hips into your faster and harder. "you're so pretty, you look so good like this."
you let out a small whimper at his compliment, your face heating up and making you turn away from him to hide your face. spencer chuckled and pulled out of you, hissing as he did so. you quickly looked at him with wide eyes but he laid down and pulled you on top of him before you could protest. you lifted your hips and held his cock as you sank down onto him, you moved your hands to his chest and started to ride him.
spencer let you control your pace but he kept his hands on your waist. his chest rose and fell heavily as he watched your face twist in pleasure, he groaned lowly feeling your cunt squeeze around him.
"m'so close, fuck-" you cried out, hips lifting and dropping quicker. spencer planted his feet onto the bed and started to lift his hips up to help you cum faster. normally, you probably would’ve lasted a bit longer but not tonight, the feeling of his cock against your walls and all the praise he was giving you was starting to get overwhelming.
your body fell forward as your orgasm finally shook you, you whined and moaned spencer's name into his ear. spencer's head tipped back as he felt himself about to cum, he quickly pulled out and started to stroke his cock to get himself off. when he came it was messy, his cum shooting up between you both and landing on his and your chest.
you sat up and huffed, pushing your hair out of your face and smiled down at him. "I think I like being praised by you."
"of course you do." he chuckled and pulled you down to kiss him.
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vivwritesfics · 2 days
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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash
Chapter Five
Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.
Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader
Warnings: Mentions of child abuse (no description), throw up (bc i need that warning lmao)
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Bahrain. The season opener. And she had no idea. After her call with Logan she’d stayed away from all things racing. She’d have given anything to be driving the number fifty three car around that track and couldn’t face the fact that she wasn’t.
Max had tried to call her, but she ignored it. She was having far too much fun with Rooster and his friends to speak to her brother. 
She’d never had a beach day like this. It was the sort of environment she’d never been in before, where everyone was just friends. They weren’t insanely competitive (at least, not in the way she and the people she’d grown up with were), and there wasn’t the feeling of dread that one of your friends could have your career ripped away from you and placed into their own hands at any moment. 
No, the beach day with the Dagger Squad was actually fun. She hadn’t packed for her trip across the United States with the beach in mind, but Natasha had been kind enough to let her borrow something to wear. As the day got hotter she wore her old team hat, complete with her driver number. There wasn’t anything much more embarrassing than that.
If the Squad thought anything of it, they kept their opinions to themselves. No, she genuinely had fun.
Days like this with Jos Verstappen as your father were few and far between. Any spare moment growing up was spent racing or training. Even as the golden child, Max didn't get any reprieve. But Jos seemed to hate her more than anything.
(Maybe it was because he was stuck with her. She'd been taken from her mother who was deemed unfit to parent and left in his care. How he was considered good enough to look after two children, she'd never know).
(She and her mother had reconnected just before her first season, but they'd never gotten close).
When the Squad started a game of football, she'd shaken her head, insisting that she was happy watching. Besides, she didn't know how to play American football, her only experience was having footballs thrown at her before the race in Miami.
But they insisted. Bradley had taken her hands and pulled her to her feet, but she was quick to sit back down. And, when that happened, he threw her over his shoulder. She shrieked and pounded her fists against his back, but her uncontrollable laughter gave everything away.
He put her down between Bob, Nat, and Mickey. "You okay?" He asked, searching her face for any sign of discomfort.
But she was grinning ear to ear as she said, "Yeah, Roos. I'm okay."
He joined Jake, Javy and Rueben across from them, and the game began.
As it turns out, navy pilots are incredibly competitive. But that was good. Because she was, too. But they weren't competitive in the way that she was. It wasn't treated like life or death with them, not like it was growing up trying to get into racing. They wanted to beat each other but just because it was fun.
Not because they were afraid of what their dad would do if they lost.
To the Squad, the way she avoided the ball was hilarious. But then the ball landed in her hands. With wide eyes, she turned towards Bob. "What do I do?" She asked in a panic.
Bradley, Jake, Javy and Rueben were all racing towards her. This was maybe the most terrifying moment of her life (psych, it wasn't even close).
"Run!" Bob cried. So she did just that.
She tucked the football beneath her arm and ran. As it turns out, she was only fast on the racetrack. She didn't get very far, not before Bradley wrapped his strong arms around her middle and lifted her off the ground.
"Bradley!" She shrieked and tried to throw the ball to Nat.
The game was forgotten to the two of them as the others continued playing. "Not bad," he mused as she turned in his arms. That smirk played on his lips, the tantalising one that had drawn her in in the first place. "Are you sure your only sport is driving?"
"Racing," she corrected as she pushed at his chest. But she didn't put much effort into it, not quite ready to leave his arms. "Well, if my career doesn't get back on track, I'm sure I could try out for the New York Dolphins."
A groan left his lips and his head fell forward. "You're killing me here, baby," he mumbled and pressed his lips against her own.
A few beers later, as the sun set on a perfect day, Bradley led her back to the Bronco. "Can I drive?" She asked a sober Bradley, wearing a smile that was all too convincing.
"Three beers and you think you're ready for the Bronco? Someone needs to learn to handle their drink," he said, voice teasing as he pulled her around to the passenger side. Bradley kept a hold of her hand as she climbed in. As soon as she was sat, she swivelled in her seat to face him and pulled his aviators from his face.
He didn't look at her with annoyance, as she had been expected as she put the sunglasses on. No, the expression he wore was full of fondness. "You had a good day, kid?"
The nickname was affectionate, fort he times he was feeling soft with her. It was his favourite of the bunch, the one that had a dopey smile crossing her face. "Yeah," she said, leaning to the side and letting her head fall against the seat. "I like your friends."
He pushed her legs around so that she was facing forwards. "They like you too," he said, gently pulling the aviators from her face and placing them back on his own.
He climbed into the other side of the Bronco and began driving. As soon as they were on the road, heading back to his, she took the hand closest to her and put it on her thigh, a satisfied hum leaving her lips. "There," she mumbled, placing her hand on top of his own.
"You okay?" He asked again, and she nodded. He'd never seen her so quiet before. It was a new side of her, one he didn't exactly mind. But, then again, he so far loved all sides of her. "Jake said they're gonna keep the party going in The Hard Deck. D'you wanna join them?"
Again, she nodded. "Okay, kid," he said softly as he pulled into the driveway. "Let's get some food in you, first."
It was a pleasant evening with Bradley before they headed out to The Hard Deck. But, then again, most evenings with Bradley were pleasant. She showered and got changed while he stood in the kitchen, making her something to eat, dressed in nothing but his beach shorts.
it was a quick turn around, her getting showered and changed. As soon as she was dressed she silently padded into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him. The smell of the sea air lingered on his skin. Heaven.
It was a simple dinner, but Bradley made the portions larger than she thought possible. She couldn't finish it all, and that was okay. After he'd eaten, Bradley jumped in the shower and got dressed into one of his signature Hawaiian shirts.
"Feeling slightly more sober?" He had asked as he pulled her up from the couch. She nodded but Bradley shook his head. "Words, baby."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Roo. I promise you I'm feeling a lot more sober." She muttered something in a language he didn't understand, something that had her giggling. At her giggles, Bradley pinched her sides. But he took her hand and led her out to the Bronco.
Her first reminder of the opening race that she was missing came the moment they walked into The Hard Deck. She spotted four screens, one on every wall. It had to be some sort of joke.
"No way," said Bradley, pointing at the first screen he saw.
She said nothing as she sat at the bar and ordered a drink. She kept her eyes on the wood of the counter top as Bradley sat beside her. The rest of the Dagger Squad were gathered around the pool table, but she couldn't face them in that moment. She couldn't face anyone.
"Which one is your brother?" Bradley asked.
Penny placed her drink down in front of her and she finished it in one go. It wasn't glamorous. She slammed the glass down onto the counter top with enough force to break it. It was a miracle it didn't shatter. "The one in front," she spat, and he turned his attention back to the television.
It was a little jarring, hearing the commentary of David Croft in a place so far removed from racing. It went a shudder down her spine as she ordered another drink.
She didn't have much else after that. It didn't feel right to be ordering gin and tonics when she knew that was how her brother would be celebrating his win.
The naval officers in the bar threw questions her way, but they didn't seem to register just how much harm that was doing. This was fine, she tried to tell herself. It could be a whole lot worse.
Every time the number three car was mentioned, she couldn't help the anger she felt. That was the fucker that took her seat. And he wasn't even performing well. That had to be the biggest piss take of them all.
As hard as the Squad tried to get her to join them, she refused. Bradley joined them for a little bit, not before making sure she was okay. She stayed sitting at the bar, her only company Captain Pete Mitchell. And what company he was. He had asked more questions than anybody else and he wasn't shy about it.
They were maybe the slowest fifty seven laps of her life. But she was coping. Bradley joined her again, a welcome distraction from the race. If anybody could tell she was bothered, it was him. So, he spoke about anything but the race.
But then she looked up at the screen. For the first time since they'd arrived at The Hard Deck, for the first time since lights out, she looked up at one of the screens on the wall.
Her father had been a haunting presence ever since the start of her karting career. Well, he was the whole reason she had a career in the first place. Because of him, she knew nothing but racing. She had no life skills, barely had the ability to take care of herself because of him.
But that wasn't why she threw up on the floor of The Hard Deck. When you grow up the way she did, repressing memories becomes second nature when you see that person every day. But she hadn't seen Jos in months, not since the summer break in August.
It had been seven months since she'd last seen her father. All the memories, all the shit she'd suffered at his hands as a child, came back in one exhausting go.
That was why she threw up on the floor of The Hard Deck. "Shit," she whispered as she wiped at her mouth. She must have looked like a drunk idiot. "I'm so sorry, Penny, I..."
But what excuse did she have for this? "Fuck," Bradley whispered as he pulled her to stand straight. She'd expected to see sympathy on his face, but sympathy wasn't what she found.
Penny shook her head as she grabbed the mop and bucket from behind the bar. "It's okay," she said and turned her attention to Bradley. "Just make sure she gets home okay."
He said nothing as he took her out to the Bronco.
a/n: this might be my favourite chapter so far, i've got so much planned for these two (and if you've had to listen to my roo and [redacted] brainrot im sorry)
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berberriescorner · 1 day
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How would rio and y/n react if marcus brings a girl home?
Okay, so my imagination ran wild with this one. It's a bit lengthy, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it nonetheless. I’m glad to finally have gotten a bit of a creative spark. Hopefully, I’m not rusty. Please excuse any grammatical errors. This isn't heavily edited and I went with the flow. It would be greatly appreciated if you all love, comment, and reblog. Please understand (I know some get tired of hearing it but it’s important) that writing fanfiction takes time and dedication. Then there is the fact that it’s free. Tapping the love button is cool, but it’s the reblogs that help writers. Try to keep that in mind 💓.
Word Count: 3,500+
Warnings: A bit of fluff, laughter, and a little *cough, a hefty piece of* spice.
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The aroma of garlic wafted through your newly renovated kitchen. It had been an early Mother's Day present from Rio and the babies. Your husband swaggered into the kitchen fresh out of the shower. He watched you stir the pasta and smiled as you made a mental note aloud to add more cream cheese. The deep timbre of your husband's voice startled you.
“Stay put mama. I'll grab some for you,” he rasped, lips brushing the side of your neck. His hand left a gentle squeeze on your hip.
“Damn it, Chris. Baby, I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that. I should've known your stealthy, fine ass was nearby. The scent of your cologne and body wash should've given you away.”
He stepped back over to the stove adding cheese. You shivered as his fingers danced up your spine, curling around to the front of you. You hummed as his hand lightly cupped your throat. As if your body knew exactly what he wanted, you tilted your head, angling it so he could gain access. Rio’s lips trailed light kisses up your neck, across the jawline.
“Food smells good, darling. When we eatin’?”
You chuckled, slapping at his hand as his finger dipped into the alfredo sauce.
“Boy! Get your fingers out of my pan.”
“Damn, ma! I can't get a little taste. Come on, mama. Daddy’s hungry,” he groaned.
“That's on you. Shouldn't have skipped lunch.”
Rio kissed his teeth, swatting your bottom playfully.
“You know I was handling business, sweetheart. Don't start,” he teased.
“Let that have been me not eating. You would've jumped in my shit.”
His head shook in disagreement, “Mm no. I would've just brought you some food and insisted you eat.”
“Last time I brought you lunch it turned into an argument.”
“Cause you don't listen. You know you weren't supposed to be anywhere near that warehouse. It was a matter of safety. Where that's concerned, you'll always come first, mama.”
You couldn't help but smile and roll your eyes at the sweet sentiment.
“Whatever, bossy ass. We’ll eat once the oldest baby boy gets here.”
“That's right it's our weekend,” he perked up.
Though there were times Rio wished he could see his son every day. He knew that Marcus was both his and Rhea’s pride and joy. Rio was thankful that they had a healthy co-parenting relationship. Joint custody had always been smooth with Rhea. She'd never dream of ever keeping their son away from his father. He was grateful that they both managed to move on. They both found love again, remarried, and everyone seemed to get along just fine. Rio loved that you and Rhea found friendship in one another. Your kids adored Rhea just as much as Marcus did you.
“Oh, you thought I was making this fire-ass pasta for you? Nope, Zaddy this for my oldest baby boy,” you teased Rio playfully.
“That’s fine! So long as I get to choose my dessert,” he rasped, his eyes scanning over your body.
Your eyes met, both nibbling at your bottom lip. Just as you were about to dive deeper into the topic, Alexa announced someone was at the front door. You tapped your phone screen, turning on the ring doorbell’s mic.
“Rhea, stop acting like you don’t have a key. Bring your beautiful self into this house.”
You smiled as she giggled her way through the front door.
“We’re in the kitchen,” Rio called out.
“Boy! Stop all that yelling. You wake that baby up and it’s your ass.”
Your husband kissed his teeth, “last I checked this was our house,” he mumbled, walking over to Marcus and pulling him into a bear hug. “What’s up, man?”
Marcus answered his question, immediately following with, “Can I go check on the baby? Where’s everybody else?”
“Rudeness. Are you forgetting something,” Rhea questioned her eager teenager.
She chuckled as he looked at her in confusion as she continued, “Your bonus mama is burning in this kitchen. Probably for you. Did you say hello? Or maybe thank you? Where is her loving,” Rhea jokingly scolded her son.
“Sorry, ma. He replied shyly, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek. “Thank you for cooking my favorite food.”
“It’s cool handsome,” you started, pinching his cheek. “The kids are in the theater room and the baby is down for the night, but go on up and steal a little sugar.”
Just as he was about to excuse himself, Rhea interrupted him, “Not so fast young man. You’re not slick. Don’t you want to share the news?”
“Mami,” Marcus whined.
“That’s okay, I'll tell them. Go on, scaredy cat.”
Marcus made his escape as Rhea turned back to you and Rio. She bypassed him, linking her arm with yours.
“Come, chica. I’ve got some chisme for you.”
Your husband, the big baby he is, groaned, “Nice to see you too, Rhea. Why am I not included?”
“Are you not in the room? You are included, fool,” Rhea teased.
“Chris, baby. I love you, but hush. I'm trying to see some.”
Both women laughed at him as he rolled his eyes and went silent.
“ Marcus sat down with us sometime last week. Said he wanted to invite his lady friend over for dinner. Our baby has a girlfriend, sis.”
The two of you stared at one another, several seconds passed. As if he was expecting it, Rio sighed, running his hand down his face as the two of you started squealing like school girls.”
“Mama, Rhea, the baby,” he reminded the both of you.
You both clapped a hand over your mouths, silently giggling.
“What's her name? Have you met her? The parents?”
“Baby, chill,” Rio chuckled.
You looked at him, studying him for a moment. Head tilted, you questioned, “You already knew. Didn't you?”
He smirked, “You already know the answer to that, mama. You know I stay ten steps ahead.”
“He told you first,” Rhea questioned.
“Listen, he asked for advice on girls a while back. I suspected then he had his eye on somebody. I played it cool. If you ask too many questions, he’ll shut down. We had the talk. About a week after that. Marcus told me he was talking to someone.”
“The talk,” you and Rhea said in unison. “Should we be worried about where this is going?”
“Ladies relax. It's better to have it early. Just to be on the safe side.”
“You gave him condoms. Didn't you,” Rhea snarked.
“Are you ready to be a grandmother? I mean I’d be the coldest abuelo out here, but let's try to prevent that from happening.”
“He brought her home for dinner the other day. She's so sweet and shy. Her name is Isabella, but she goes by Isa. He's got his papi’s taste. She's Afrolatina, a beautiful young lady!”
“Okay! I see my boy! He found him a woman who embodies two of the most important women in his life,” Rio praised with pride.
“The mom seems to be well-rounded. Surely we don't have anything to worry about,” Rhea insisted.
“The both of you were sweet and shy when I first met you. Need I say more? Then there's those stories your mom told me about your teenage years,” he smirked toward you.
“Sneak one damn boy through your window and you never live it down. Kiss my ass, Christoper,” you cackled, flipping him the bird.
Rio puckered his lips, bending down, laughing as you mugged his forehead.
“Sis! Your ass was hot back in the day, huh?”
“Chill on my wife. Tell me, how old were you when we had Marcus?”
Rhea kissed her teeth, “He got a response for everything, huh,” she asked you. “Anyway! He wants you all to meet her. Can he invite her over for dinner tomorrow?”
Rio smiled at you bouncing on the balls of your feet.
“I take it our answer is yes, mama?”
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After a stressful Saturday afternoon, Rio stepped into the foyer of his home. His eyes drifted shut for a moment as he welcomed the delicious smell of lemon herbs, and the smell of your perfume wafted through the air. Sandals tapped across the wooden floor, Rio’s lashes fluttered open, dancing at the sight of you meeting him at the front door.
“Hey Papa,” you started, smile faltering. You could sense the heaviness of his day. “Long day, baby,” you questioned.
His head tilted to the side, an appreciative smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Rio’s hands cupped your side pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his head in your neck. Breathing you in again, his lips tickled the sensitive spot behind your ear.
“Shit was hectic, but I’m sure some kisses would make me feel better,” he whispered in a sultry tone.
Your hands brushed against his chest, as you tip-toed to reach his lips. He chuckled at your struggle to reach his lips, meeting you the rest of the way. Your lips danced together in soft, slow strokes. The sound of footsteps speeding down the steps interrupted the lip lock.
“Ma! Pops! You’re not going to be doing all that in front of Isa, are you? Why’s it so quiet around here?”
You giggled as Rio reared his head back. “I’m sorry son, I didn’t know you paid bills around here. Y’all be forgetting this my house…our house,” he corrected when you lightly cleared your throat.
“Your siblings can be a lot. We wanted to have time to focus on getting to know your girlfriend. I managed to arrange a night with Nana. They’ll be back tomorrow. She can meet everybody next time we have her over. Don’t worry, baby. Papi and I promise to be on our best behavior,” you teased Marcus.
“I ain’t promising nothin’. Listen, I’ll kiss my wife all I want, bro. Don’t be mad I’m the only one getting kisses around here,” he joked, giving Marcus a playful shove.”
“Pops, chill on me. Who said I ain’t got it like that?”
Rio cackled, dapping Marcus up. The laughter between the two stopped abruptly when they saw you standing straight-faced, head tilted, and arms crossed.
“I’m pretty sure I can speak for your mother when I say this. You better be acting accordingly with that young lady. Nothing short of being respectful is acceptable. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Your eyes landed on Rio, “Then I got you over here gassing him up.”
“My bad, mama. We’ll tighten up.”
“That’s what I thought,” you finished sauntering off to the kitchen.
 Rio turned back to Marcus and they both dapped each other up silently.
“It’s like that, son?”
“I learned from the best,” Marcus responded.
“My boy. Seriously though, not too much. Take things slowly. You have a lot of life to live. Don’t let thinking you're grown get you in trouble. You bring a baby home, and that’s ya ass. Papi can’t save you from the mama squad. If you can’t wait, do at least three things for me. Wrap it up, don’t do it in mine or your mom’s house, and don’t play with her feelings. You better plan on sticking around. Don’t be that guy, son. We’ve raised you better than that.”
“Yessir, I give you my word, pops.”
Rio embraced Marcus and gave his shoulders a firm squeeze as they pulled apart.
“You nervous,” Rio asked as the doorbell sounded.
“Just promise me you won’t let Ma pull out the photo albums.”
“Listen, I’m a man of many talents, but telling that woman not to do something almost always has the opposite effect. Ma listens when it counts,” he smirked, biting his lip.
“That’s information I honestly didn’t need to know, Dad.”
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The first twenty minutes had been hilarious. You, Isa, and her mother all silently laughed at the way Isa’s father stumbled over his words while making introductions with Rio.
Apparently Marcus nor his girlfriend had taken the liberty of giving the poor man a heads up. He had suspected that he was going to assert himself as an overprotective father. One look at Marcus’ father and his bravado and puffed-out chest had deflated. Christopher wasn’t about to be checked by anyone and little did they know, neither were you. 
Dinner had gone by smoothly. The two of you succeeded in not embarrassing your son, as did her parents. Isa was a sweet, shy, and intelligent girl. You both loved her for Marcus. The teens had asked permission to have a movie night in the family theatre room. All parents agreed that it would be okay so long as it wasn’t unattended. You had even offered for Isa’s parents to join. Her father needed to finish up some work at home, and Rio along with Marcus, offered to drop her home in a few hours. 
As the parents you opted, to sit in the back row of home theatre seats to give them some sort of privacy. You didn’t want to crowd them too much. That and you knew with certainty that Rio was going to get handsy as soon as the lights dimmed. Twenty minutes of screen time had barely passed before his hand started a soft, tingling trail up your thigh. You allowed his fingers to make it inches away from the place he desired before swatting at him. His heated gaze met yours and the left corner of his mouth tilted up as he mouthed the word, “Why?”
Your head cocked to the side as you looked at him as if he were crazy. You sucked your teeth, pointing a finger in the direction of the kids. Rio wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to whisper in your ear, “Oh you really thought I was cold. You know why I pulled this blanket out, mama.” He laughed as you rolled your eyes, shoving him away from you. 
“Do that again and I’m sitting in my own lounger,” you sassed.
“All this space and you want to sit by yourself. Don’t be like that, mama.”
You had glanced in the direction of the children to see if they had overheard, but froze as you saw their hands inching closer to one another. Your hand tapped the top of Rio’s repetitively to get him to look. The two of you shared a smile at the innocence of the situation. Marcus looked back as the two of you tried to focus your attention elsewhere. The teen shook his head as his hand shifted away some. The two of you kissed your teeth and the sound echoed off the theatre walls as Marcus shook his head and Isa giggled.
It felt as if you had ruined the moment, and Rio attempted to correct the situation. Clearing his throat he asked the room, “Anybody want chips? Popcorn? Something to drink?”
You caught on and joined in, “I could go for some ice water and we can share a snack babe. Let’s go round up some refreshments.”
The kids had started to decline, but the two of you left in a hurry.
Rio propped himself against the kitchen island with his hands clasped. You crept towards your husband smirking. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you asked, “How much time should we give them to be unsupervised?”
“That depends, mama. Are you trying to be a responsible parent or a laid-back one? Responsible would be in the realm of maybe five or ten minutes. Laidback–about twenty or so.”
Rio’s hands traveled the length of your back, down to your plush backside. With a gentle squeeze, he continued, “I’m leaning towards laidback, mama,” he rasped. “Maybe we can take that time alone to–connect ourselves.”
“You truly have a one-track mind. We are not about to do anything with a guest in the house. Do you know what teenagers can do in twenty or so minutes?”
“Mama, what’s the most that could happen?”
“Our last child happened in twenty minutes, Rio.”
“We were pressed for time, and I was down bad for you that night, mama.”
“You’re always down bad for me. Even at this moment, you are.”
“No lies told. If you know that, stop playing. C’mere, mama.”
Rio nibbled at your neck, even as you continued to protest, “Rio, seriously. We should head back soon.”
“C’mon, mama. Let that boy cook for a few minutes. I told him to take things slow and to never do anything like that under his mom’s or our roof.”
“Oh, and you think that’s gon’ stop him?”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
“This is coming from the man, that was giving me backshots under his grandmother’s roof last Christmas.”
“We’re married with a ton of children. Trust and believe, she knows you’re getting handed pipe left and right, mama.”
“You get on my damn nerves. Always got a response–.”
The sentence came to a halt as Rio’s hand slipped into the opening of your dress, tugging a nipple through the silk material of your bra.
“F-fuck, Rio, don’t.”
His lips hovered over yours. The minty freshness of his breath fanning across your bottom lip. He nipped at it before asking, “You really want me to stop, mama?”
“Pantry, now.”
With those two words, Rio picked you up, legs wrapping around his waist, as he carried you to the destination. The door softly clicked closed, as he pressed you against some of the shelving. Your lips collided, tongues stroking one another, battling for dominance. The hem of your dress shifted upward, bunching at your waist. Rio groaned as his tented dark wash jeans ground against your damp panties. A moan slipped from your lips and he shushed you.
“Gotta keep quiet baby,” he whispered as his lips moved to suck at your throat.
His lips continued to nip and suck at your flesh. His long muscular fingers tugged your panties to the side as two fingers massaged your folds before gliding in to slowly stretch you out. The delicious feeling turned you into a whimpering mess as your hips began to rock against his movements.
“Yeah, just like that, mama. Are you gonna be my good girl and come all over my fingers? Yeah, you are. Aren’t you?”
He leaned in, tucking into the side of your neck, and whispered, “Bite down on my shoulder if you need to, darling.”
One of your hands slipped under his shirt as your nails scratched at his skin. You leaned back and pleaded, “Choke me, Daddy. Keep me quiet.”
The minute his hand wrapped around your throat, Rio added a third finger, thrusting in quick, deep strokes. His lips pecked your lips as he groaned, “Come for me, mama. Make a mess all over my fingers.”
All you needed was one last stroke to send you over the edge, but everything came to a halt as you both heard footsteps coming toward the kitchen. The two of you broke apart, fixing your clothes at the speed of lightning. The moment the knob to the pantry door turned, Rio snatched it open, pulling it closed with a bag of chips and a case of soda under his arm.
Marcus eyed his father suspiciously before speaking, “Isa got thirsty and you two were taking forever. So I came to get her some fruit snacks and a soda.”
Rio handed him a soda and explained, “We were coming back. Your pops negotiated a little alone time for ya. Did anything interesting happen?”
Marcus blushed a bit and responded, “Pops, can’t we talk about this later? I don’t want to keep Isa waiting.”
“You right man. Here take this soda and I’ll bring the fruit snacks and the rest of the stuff. Ma and I will be right in. She had to take care of something right quick.”
“Alright, Pops. Thanks.”
Marcus made it a few steps out of the kitchen before ducking his head back around the corner. Rio had started to turn back toward the pantry as he spoke up, “Pops? Tell Ma she can come out of the pantry now. Next time aim for a place that doesn’t house the food we eat.”
“Yeah, okay, wiseass. You’ll understand when you get older and have your own meddlesome ass kids. Take your lady her beverage and mind your business. You just couldn’t let your daddy cook in peace. Could you son?”
You were mortified and could barely look your bonus son in the eye for days.
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Tagging some of my lovelies:
@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @starrynite7114
@amorestevens @bisexuallyattractivebitch @1andonlytashae
@rio-reid-whoreee @lovedlover @astoldbychae @percosim
@ravennaortiz @sunshine-flower @novaniskye @alertyoulikeitsamber @realhotgurlshit @abcdestinyyyy @jannavaire
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shuuos · 1 year
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i cannot do anything productive today i am too busy. thinking about akira fukumoto.
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chuluoyi · 6 months
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✎ forever
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- gojo satoru x reader
the three times he asked you to marry him
genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo
note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"Why don't we get married?"
The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.
His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.
"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"
A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"
You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—
"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."
Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.
"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"
There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?
You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.
Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.
"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."
When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.
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The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.
"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"
This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"
"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."
"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"
"I said no."
"Why?!"
You sighed. "You're dead drunk."
"What will—hic—make you say yes?"
You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.
"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"
You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.
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"Marry me."
The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.
And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.
Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.
At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.
. . .
He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.
He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.
Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.
"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.
As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.
And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—
—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.
But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.
You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?
. . .
This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.
"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."
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obsessivevoidkitten · 5 months
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Wrongful Imprisonment
Male Alpha Yandere Prisoner x Omega Male Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, prison setting, knotting, mating cycles, a/b/o, rut/heat, knotting, size difference, ass eaten like it's groceries, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Sorry this took so long.)
You never thought you would find yourself in prison. But there you were. Locked away in a minimum security facility.
You were innocent. When your home was raided you had no idea there were drugs there. Your boyfriend at the time had put all the blame on you to escape punishment.
What's worse was that you were an omega sentenced to a mixed facility full of alphas. Since male omegas were so rare no one bothered to make separate facilities for them.
They forcefully drugged away your heats to the best of their ability but the meds had side effects on your mood and gave you dizzy spells. And they weren't perfect. Even without a heat a faint scent of omega peaked through. During heats it was a bit more pronounced.
To some of the alphas who had been there for years it was enough to get their interest. And they were not men whose interest you wanted.
It was terrifying. The cells had no doors so you were in constant fear that you'd wake up with a rapist over you.
The guards were no help. You did your best to avoid all of the alphas of ill intent for as long as you could manage it, but one time you were cornered.
They had followed you in from the yard and crept up behind you. You flailed, scratched, and bit but they didn't take your struggles well and beat you until you stopped fighting.
You could hear them snickering as one slammed his knee into your gut before giving you two brutal punches to the face. You doubled over in pain, your nose bloody and tears cascading down your swollen face.
"Just be a good cock sleeve and stay still"
You felt your pants being yanked down to your knees.
"Look at how tight it's pussy is!"
You prepared for the worst, unable to eek out any pleas over your ragged sobs of hurt and fear.
But the worst never happened. Instead you heard growling followed by hisses and cries of pain.
Your pants were pulled up and you were helped onto your shaky feet.
In front of you stood a sweaty mountain of a man. He was about your age. Tan skin and red hair. All muscle. Probably spent every free moment lifting weights.
Which wasn't really true. Lately he also spent a lot of time watching you from a distance. Trying to get to know the one who's scent called to him so strongly despite the suppressants.
"Th-tha-th-" You tried to mutter a thanks, but your assault and near rate had sent you into a full panic attack.
"Shhh, don't try to talk. It's okay."
His green eyes stared into yours as he inspected your facial injuries. Nothing was broken.
He gently led you back to his doorless cell. The cells had a lot of traffic. You were a bit nervous but you were more scared to be alone and if he had wanted to hurt you he could have.
At least, that's what you had thought. Though you were completely unaware of how badly he wanted to bend you over and fill your body full of his seed. Unlike the brutes from before though he at least wanted you to moan and cling to him while he did it.
He introduced himself and you managed to return the courtesy once your sobs had lessened.
His name was Lance.
And over the months you spent in prison the two of you had become very close.
He kept you within his sight at all times and made sure you were safe. The two of you even managed to have it arranged where you could share the same cell so he could protect you at night and prevent you from getting a bad roommate.
Lance also rubbed all your clothes every morning on him so they had his scent to keep you safe.
The alpha even had the idea to give you a claiming bite just to make sure no one would try anything.
You allowed him to do so, you didn't think it meant anything. In fact, he had reassured you that it hadn't. It was just another measure to protect you.
Of course that wasn't how the alpha saw it at all. Even though he hadn't bed you he considered you his mate. And really, if anything, the fact you were so naïve about it only proved that he was taking the correct course of action.
You were too trusting and soft. That's how you had ended up there in the first place. That's why those vermin tried to get their unworthy hands on you.
You were his mate. Even if you didn't know it yet. You needed him.
And he needed you too. Your scent and personality drove him to keep you safe. So kind. A perfect mate for him. You were the only light in his otherwise miserable existence. To say that you were as essential as oxygen to him would be an understatement.
And after he saved you from those lesser alphas his instincts screamed that he owned you. He had won you in a physical contest.
The alpha just had to calm himself down and be patient. He would get you gradually. He was confident he was almost there.
Until you got the news that you were being released early because new evidence had come to light.
Lance feigned joy at the news.
"I am glad... a place like this really isn't for a person like you..."
"Yeah! And now I won't have to be such a burden to you anymore either! Thanks for helping me so much Lance, you're a great friend. I'll miss you."
Inwardly Lance wanted to go on a rampage. His mate was being taken away from him! He wouldn't be able to protect you. Someone might try to hurt you and touch you with hands unworthy of your skin.
The mere thought filled him with unbridled anger.
Lance knew what he had to do.
/////////
It had been just a couple months since your release and you were adjusting about as well as could be expected for someone in your situation.
You had been money from a settlement for being falsely imprisoned so finances weren't an issue. But you had no friends on the outside anymore. You had nothing to do.
And the ptsd from over a year of living like an animal was immense.
The hardest thing to adjust to, at least physically, was no longer being on industrial strength suppressants. And the very strong heats that accompanied that change.
It was during one such extreme heat that Lance broke out of prison and was making his way up the hill right towards your secluded home. He could smell you from far off.
He was in rut. He had not seen his omega in months. And he could smell your heat.
The alpha was coming for you... and very soon... he would be cumming in you.
When he came upon your home he noticed the window was open. You were so careless! Just letting your damn heat scent drift out and attract any piece of shit alpha right to your open window!! You were really fucking lucky you had such a dedicated mate like him though. So loyal that he broke through prison to take care of you.
He watched you for a minute through your open window. Poor little omega. Writhing in your empty nest. No alpha scent to soothe you. Your nude form hot and sweaty, jerking your cock and bucking your hips fervently, a puddle of slick staining your blankets. And the smell was insane, practically screaming for someone to slide in you.
But fate had provided you with a strong lover that was going to fuck all your frustrations right away.
As he stepped through your window your eyes snapped to him immediately, his musky smell grabbing your attention. “L-lance? B-but…”
“I got out for you. Now I can help you and we can be together.” His voice was low and raspy. Almost animalistic.
You recoiled in fear of him and fell out of your bed.
Lance was hurt that his precious lover was scared of him, but he understood. Past lovrs had hurt you and other alphas had tried to rape you very violently. But that’s not what he would do. He was going to keep you safe. Take care of your needs.
“You n-need to leave Lance.”
It was so hard to think clearly. Your body was on fire and his smell was so comforting even though you didn’t want his knot in you. He was still an attractive alpha who you had been close to and your body wanted to be closer. And he could smell it.
“No. I need to breed my husband.”
“Lance, y-you’re not my-”
He stood over you and picked you up easily, putting you back into your nest. He knelt beside it so that his head was right by your ass that was hanging off. He positioned your legs on his shoulders and inhaled deeply.
The scent you were giving off was too captivating, especially there, he could no longer even process your words. He tenderly nuzzled his nose beneath your balls, drinking in the scent and kissing each of your nuts gently before focusing his attention on your needy, slick-leaking hole.
He stared at it in awe for a moment, like a dragon appraising his most precious treasure.
Lance slid his tongue right in and began wriggling it to get at every inch he could reach, reveling in the needy sounds you made between your flustered protests. He kissed it and removed his lips, a small string of drool and slick briefly connecting your hole with his lips.
The alpha then flipped you on to your belly and climbed into the nest with you after discarding his pants and underwear, he took off his sweaty shirt and laid it under your head so you could enjoy his scent while he bred you. He put your head down and kept your ass up. You would have protested, but you couldn’t stay in your right mind any longer.
Not after the tongue fucking he had given you, not with his scent so concentrated with your face pressed into it.
You gripped his shirt and pressed it closer to you, trying to inhale the musk as much as you possibly could. His heart leapt at the sight of it all. His little omega was presenting so nicely for him all while drowning so willingly in his smell.
He gripped your hips firmly, but still careful not to hurt you as he sank his cock into you deeply.
Lance gasped as the wet heat engulfed his entire length. You fit over him so well. There was not a fraction of a doubt in his mind, you were made just for him.
You moaned and drooled into the shirt your loving mate had provided as his flesh smacked against yours. Faster and faster he slammed into you with your slutty noises driving him on until his knot swelled and his cum was pumped into you.
The alpha renewed that claiming bite he had given you as the two of you became tied together and while licking your fresh wound he lightly humped into you until you came hard as well. He caged your body with his and held you tightly to him as you both panted and waited for the knot to go down.
As your mind temporarily cleared you were aware that this was not something you wanted.
But it wasn’t something that you could fight either.
After everything you had been through you were still just a prisoner.
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exhaslo · 7 months
Text
Kinktober Day 18- Master!Miguel x Maid!Reader
"Did you hear? Another maid got fired for trying to flirt with the master." One of the head maids whispered. Another sighed,
"That's five this month. When are these young girls going to learn?"
"What about (Y/n)? She's been here for a while, has she made any comments about our master?"
"Thank goodness no. She is so focused on work that the poor girl might never get a boyfriend!"
        You frowned as you listened to the head maids chatter. You moved away from the wall you were hiding behind. You had no choice but to focus on work because of your bills. It would be a lie if you said you were not interest in the master of his household. Your master, Miguel O'Hara, was a wealthy man who always disappeared for business work. No one questioned anything. You were all hired to keep his mansion clean and tidy.
        Your job was to clean the main dining room. Due to other young maids, no one but the head maids were allowed to clean the master's bedroom. It was too dangerous. It was obvious as to why. The master was tall, toned and handsome. The only time you truly got to see him was when he returned home. Everyone in the mansion greeted him. You always tried to glance at him any other time, but you were afraid of getting caught and fired.
        A soft sigh escaped your lips as you thought about what the head maids said. You wanted a boyfriend, but it felt impossible. Every time you went on a date, something would happen to the person you were seeing. You started to wonder if it was you. As you walked down the hall, you heard a low grunt. Confused, you followed the strange noise and stopped in front of your master's room. You were told to stay as far away from here.
"Um, M-Master, are you okay?" You hesitantly asked, more worried about getting fired.
        It went silent. Taking a step back, you looked around to make sure no one saw you. Perhaps now would be best to leave? Right as you were about to turn your heel, the door opened.
"(Y/n)?" Miguel groaned lowly, leaning against the doorframe. You gulped, staring at him since he looked like he was in pain,
"Are you okay, master?" You asked.
        God, he looked so sexy. His shirt was undone, exposing his toned chest. Miguel was panting for air and sweat was rolling down his forehead. Realizing that your master was in pain, you immediately panicked.
"Master, shall I fetch you some medication? You don't look well," 
"It's just a headache," Miguel told you before sighing, "How are you with head massages?"
"Excuse me?" You were caught off guard by the question. Miguel faced you,
"Medicine won't work, but I'll be better with a head massage."
"Oh, um, I can try. If not, I'm sure one of the head maids ca-"
"I'm asking you. Not them."
        You flinched towards his demand. Agreeing to his request, you followed your master into his bedroom. The one place that all those other maids had failed to enter. You hesitantly followed him, taking in every little detail. The room smelled so good. Hopefully, this won't get you fired. You watched as Miguel laid against the couch, patting the space above his head. 
        You were nervous. What if you did a horrible job? Sitting down, you scooted closer and gulped as your master placed his head on your lap. He was so close! You inhaled softly before starting to rub your fingers against his forehead. You're watched enough videos, so hopefully you could copy what you saw. Hearing his rumbling groan, you bit your lower lip. God, he was so hot.
         Miguel groaned lowly as he relaxed to your touch. His headaches have been getting worse with his workload lately. That and the fact that you kept trying to date men who weren't good enough for you. With all the drama with other maids trying ti flirt with him, Miguel never had a chance to talk to you. You, the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. You, the determined worker. You, the woman he wanted. Miguel was thankful that you passed by his door. This was pleasant.
"Is this alright, master? Am I doing okay?" You asked.
Master.
        That word rolled so nicely off your lips. Miguel lowered his hand to hide his growing erection. Oh how he wanted to hear you cry for him. To drill you with his dick as you called him, master.
"Si. I'm feeling better already," He lowered his voice.
        Miguel was just happy to have his head on your lap. Like a soft cushion. He needed you to keep visiting him. He may be the master of this mansion, but he was still a man. Closing his eyes, Miguel relaxed under your touch. He was going to get used to this.
---------------
        You tried to hide your smile as you hurried to Miguel's room with his dinner. Ever since he had you massage his head, Miguel had requested you to do for stuff for him. It made your heart flutter that you were getting close to him. All of the head maids shook their heads towards ypu getting cozy with the master, but hell! He requested you!
"Master! I've brought your dinner!" You chirped, knocking befoer entering. Miguel was sitting on his couch,
"(Y/N), you look awfully cheerful today." He said, adoring your smile. You placed his meal in front of him, "Do tell," Miguel loved to hear you ramble about your day.
"Well, I finally paid off one of my bills!" You chirped before hesitating, "That and...my last date asked me for another date. I was kind of wor-"
"Que?" Miguel stopped you in your tracks, "He asked for a second date?"
You could hear Miguel's angry tone, "Um...Yes?" You flinched as Miguel stood and approached you.
"You're not going out with him," He said firmly and stroked your cheek, "You're too good for him."
        That and Miguel was mad that the fucker dared to contact you again after he paid him. Miguel made sure to keep you single so that he could have you to himself.
"M-Master?"
        You glanced up at Miguel, leaning your head into the palm of his hand. They were so big and warm. You could feel your heart race as Miguel moved his hand to your waist. You could feel the tension. Miguel pulled you towards his bed and sat down. His grip still tight against your waist, your uniform blocking his touch.
"(Y/N), tell me what I am to you." Miguel's tone was needy. It made you melt.
"My Master."
"Mhm, you do as I say, right?" He started to draw circles around your waist, "You're not going to date anyone because you're going to be mine. Understood?"
"Y-Yes, Master," You bit your lower lip as he lowered you to his lap.
"I want you to take care of, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered in your ear, "Let me hear your voice."
        You started to tremble as Miguel stroked the outline of your dress. He leaned forward to kiss your neck, removing your collar with his teeth. You let out a small whimper as Miguel sucked on your neck. Heat started to form between your legs as you felt his erection grind against your panties. Tingles shot up your spine as your head flung back from pleasure. Miguel hummed, enjoying your body riding against his hips. Your damp panties starting to stain his pants.
        It was still not enough. You moaned lowly as Miguel brought his hand to your cunt, moving your panties aside to rub your folds. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as you began to ride his hand. His long fingers teasing your entrance, making you clench nothing but air. His hot breathe against your ear as you whimpered from his teasing.
"You have to ask for it." He said with a smirk.
"P-Please, Master."
"That's right, keep begging me." You moaned as Miguel entered two fingers into your pussy, pumping them against your tight gummy walls, "Look at you, about to cum on your master's hand."
"Master~" You tensed as his fingers curled against your pussy, causing you to orgasm, "Hah, Master!"
"Good girl, (Y/N). Always a hard worker," He praised, removing his hand to undo his pants, "Will you continue to work hard for me?"
"Yes, Master."
        You took a moment to catch your breathe as you positioned yourself above him. You moved his hand away from his cock, grabbing it instead. You were hesitant, but after seeing the lust in his eyes, you folded. Pumping his dick a few times, you cried out as he started to stretch your pussy. You were slow, but you kept going down on him, shaking from the intense feeling. Your hands rested against Miguel's chest, trying to finish putting his dick inside you.
        Miguel let out a grunt as he helped. He thrusted upward, causing you to cry loudly. His cock shoved so deep inside you that it made your vision blur for a second. He demanded that you move, to which to listened. Your cries became loud moans as you bounced on his dick. Your body leaned back as you rode him, pleasure overtaking you. Miguel held your waist, one of his thumbs rubbing your clit in the process. This made you cum again.
"Master!"
"Don't stop until your work is done," Miguel gave you an order.
        You whined, slowing down from your high. Miguel gripped your waist, rubbing your clit harder as he started to thrust. Your moans were music to his ears. No other man was going to have you. Not when you worked for him. Not when he was fucking your pussy this good. Changing positions, Miguel had your stomach against the bed, drilling you from behind. The strings of your maid uniform giving him even more of a high.
"Fuck, look at you taking your master's dick so well. Does it feel good? Being fucked by your master?"
"Yes, Master~! Please give me more, Master~!" You begged, gripping onto the bedsheets. Miguel pounded your pussy, making sure to fill you with his cum,
"You'll listen to your master's orders then, right? No dating anyone. This pussy is mine."
"Yes, Master!" You trembled as he kept slapping his dick into you.
"You're my personal maid. I'll take care of all your bills and you. You deserve everything, mi amor (my love)." He groaned, watching your pussy suck his dick more, "Fuck, you look so good with my dick in you. My perfect girl."
"Master!"
        Miguel had you working hard throughout the night. He made sure to take care of you and your issues. You were his personal maid, making sure to take care of all of his 'issues'. Eventually, you graduated from his maid to his wife. 
"C'mon, baby. Say it for me." Miguel groaned as he had you on your back, his dick pounding your pussy, "Just once more."
"Master~" You purred, arching your back as you orgasmed. Miguel moaned in response, giving you his fill,
"That's right, baby. I'm your Master."
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triptuckers · 5 months
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keep the nightmares away - percy jackson
Request: nope Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  oh nooo what if there's only one bed........ (im a sucker for this trope and WILL use it whenever I can) Warnings:  mentions of wounds, swearing, nightmares Word count:  1.5K A/N:  yall know that audio from the rock "it's about drive it's about power we stay hungry we devour" that's me writing more fics in two days than I have in 6 months. I blame it on my percy jackson hyperfixation. enjoy!
you were so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open. you'd been sent on another quest and had been chased down by monsters for gods know how many times already.
everyone was tired and just wanted to go to bed. but a prophecy had predicted there would be three demigods and a fourth companion on this quest, so it wasn't easy to leave the monsters behind.
'why did we have to be four?' you say softly as you force yourself to keep on walking. 'it would be way more quiet if there were only three of us.'
percy looks over his shoulder in front of you. 'I don't think quests are ever quiet.' he says with a smile.
'you know what I mean.' you say. 'are we there yet?'
'almost.' says annabeth, who is walking with grover in front of percy, holding the map and leading the way. 'it's just over the ridge.'
'thank the gods.' you mutter.
you know annabeth is going to state the facts rather than make something sound good. and sure enough, when you reach the top of the ridge you can see a dimly lit street in the distance.
you can see the motel you're headed for, a diner, and a gas station with a small store.
you're filled with relief of the thought of finally laying down and resting your feet. you could rewrap your wounds and maybe even take a shower if you're lucky and have the energy for it.
'come on, nearly there.' says percy, reaching out and gently tugging you along by your wrist.
if you weren't so tired you'd be reeling over the fact percy is holding your wrist so gently. but all you can think of is how soft the beds would be.
when you get to the motel you're too tired to speak. you let annabeth do all of the talking.
after a few minutes she returns with two keys.
'these are the only ones they had available.' she says, giving percy one.
'come on.' says percy. 'want me to rewrap your arm?'
you nod. a few hours ago, you got your arm sliced open and had to hastily wrap it. you're not very good at it, as the cut is on the back of your upper arm and you can't see it very well.
'grover and I will check the area quickly and then we can all get some rest.' says annabeth. 'regroup in my room at 8 am tomorrow?'
'sure.' says percy while you and grover nod.
you follow percy as he's searching for the room. eventually he stops and you nearly bump into him.
'sorry.' you mutter.
'it's alright.' says percy as he unlocks the door and lets you enter first.
you stop in the door opening, looking at the room.
'what's wrong?' says percy, looking over your shoulder. 'oh.'
yeah. oh. there's only one bed. not even a sofa.
you enter the room and percy shuts the door behind him. of course there's only one bed. and you're so exhausted. you can tell percy is tired as well. he's just better at hiding it.
'come on, let me take care of your arm.' says percy.
you head into the bathroom while percy rummages around his pack for the medical kit.
'sit on the counter.' he says as he enters the bathroom with the medical kit in his hands.
you do as he instructs and rest the back of your head against the mirror. you close your eyes but open them when percy lightly taps your knee.
'need you awake for this. you can sleep after.' he says softly.
you sigh. 'fine.'
'I know you're exhausted. I'll make it quick.'
'thanks, perce.'
percy ignores the way he feels when you call him that. he wonders if you know you're the only one that ever calls him that.
he washes his hands and then gently unwraps the old bandage around your arm. he carefully cleans the cut and starts on rewrapping it, making sure he's not hurting you.
when he's almost done, he feels a weight on his shoulder. he smiles to himself, letting you doze off on his shoulder. he's nearly done, anyway.
he secures the last bit of the bandage and then nudges you awake.
'sorry.' you say, blinking a few times.
'let's get you to the bed.' says percy, offering his hand so you can hop off the counter. 'you can take the first shift.'
you frown. 'first shift?'
'sleeping in the bed.'
'where will you sleep?'
'on the floor. I'll get the pillows off of the chair.'
you shake your head. 'percy, you're tired as well. you've fought just as much as I have. you'll only make it worse by sleeping on the floor. we can share.' you say.
sharing a bed as friends, that's cool right? not a big deal. at least that's what you tell yourself.
percy studies your face. he probably looks as tired as you do.
'it's big enough for the two of us.' you say, reaching down to take off your boots.
'alright.' says percy.
there's a knock on the door and both you and percy freeze. percy reaches inside of his pocket, ready to take out riptide.
'it's me.' says annabeth on the other side. 'all clear. get some rest.'
'thanks, goodnight annabeth.' says percy, visibly relaxing.
you walk over to the bed and lay down on the left side, leaving enough space for percy.
'if I find you on the floor when I wake up I'll make the rest of the quest even more miserable for you.' you mumble as you close your eyes. 'don't be a gentleman.'
'noted.' says percy with a smile, laying down on the other side of the bed, careful to leave more than enough space between the two of you.
it's cool, this is fine. laying next to you in a bed. nothing that could happen, you're just friends. right?
after a while, he can tell you're asleep by the slow breathing coming from your side of the bed.
he's keeping his distance, even if it means he nearly falls off of the bed. he's mind is spinning in circles about the fact you're laying right next to him.
but eventually, he falls asleep. after all, all four of you were utterly exhausted when you reached the motel earlier in the night.
it feels like way too soon when he's woken up again. he frowns, it's still dark outside. he shifts to get comfortable again. but then he feels something hard poke him in his ribs.
'oof.' he grunts softly, then rolls over to see if you're awake. why would you punch him in the middle of the night?
but when he sees you, he noticed your face is scrunched up in agony and you're mumbling something.
he frowns and watches you move around restlessly, nearly hitting him again.
but his frown disappears soon enough. he knows the feeling all too well.
you're having a nightmare.
a bad one, by the looks of it.
gently, he reaches out and pushes a strand of sweaty hair out of your face, then nudges your shoulder.
'hey, wake up.'
in response, you curl up even more so percy shakes you again, a little harder this time.
you wake up and immediately sit up, eyes wide in panic. your hand is scrambling for you belt, where you keep your knives.
'woah, hey, it's alright you're safe, you're with me.' says percy, holding your shoulders and forcing you to look at him.
his sea-green eyes are familiar and calm you down a little. you're breathing heavily and fully aware of percy holding on to your shoulders. you force yourself to push away from him, creating space between the two of you.
'I'm alright.' you say, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly. you would not cry over something as stupid as a nightmare.
'want to talk about it?' says percy softly.
'no I'm fine.'
'talking mostly helps me.'
you sigh and start to fidget with your fingers. why does it feel so embarrassing? you're sure lots of demigods have nightmares, given what you go through on a daily basis.
'it was the gods.' you start. 'I'd failed some sort of quest and they let loose their powers on me. camp half-blood got destroyed. I couldn't find annabeth and grover. there was fire everywhere and you... fuck.'
'it's okay.' says percy softly, encouraging you to go on.
'I found you in the rubble of your cabin.' you whisper.
'shit, I'm sorry.'
'it's alright, I'm alright. you're here now.'
'you think you can try going back to sleep again?'
'yeah, I can try.'
the two of you lay down again, this time with a little less space between you.
'percy?' you say, slowly reaching out to him.
'yeah?'
'is it okay if I...?'
wordlessly, percy reaches out and pulls you against him, where you curl up against his side.
'thanks.' you say, feeling yourself relax again.
'I'll keep the nightmares away.' mumbles percy.
you smile to yourself, closing your eyes and letting percy's heartbeat lull you to sleep. you're confident nightmares wouldn't find you again. you're safe now.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max
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ladadiida · 8 months
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!
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You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
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again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.
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grangerhater · 8 months
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MINE, ALWAYS
pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader
synopsis : they are rivals but once they are assigned roommates for a school trip they actually forget to argue about that, surprisingly accepting they have to share a bed.
warnings: rivals w sexual tension, eventual sexual content, (wanrning : plot before p0rn), piv, bj, f!ngering, one bed trope, everyone is above 18 obviously, possessiveness
smut, enemies to lovers, and some fluff if you squint
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The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, and students excitedly disembarked, ready for their annual school trip. Among the bustling crowd, Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N found themselves eyeing each other warily. For years, they had been rivals, their rivalry filled with tension and sparks flying whenever they were in close proximity. This trip was no exception.
Fate had a funny way of working sometimes, and in this instance, it meant that Draco and Y/N found themselves assigned to share a room at the quaint inn where they would be staying. The room was cozy, with a single bed taking up most of the space. When they exchanged glances, they both felt a mixture of anticipation and unease at the thought of spending the trip in such close quarters.
After settling in, Draco decided to freshen up. He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing through the room. Y/N took this opportunity to unpack their belongings, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore the butterflies fluttering in their stomach.
Minutes later, Draco emerged from the bathroom, his wet hair tousled and a towel wrapped securely around his waist. His silver eyes met Y/N's gaze, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. There was an undeniable hunger in his eyes, a longing that neither of them could deny. Y/N felt their heart racing, their body trembling with anticipation.
But just as quickly as the moment had arrived, it vanished, replaced with the familiar tension and bickering that had defined their relationship for so long.
"You're taking up all the space," Draco snapped, eyeing the scattered belongings on the bed.
"Well, maybe if you weren't hogging the bathroom for so long, I wouldn't have had to unpack here," Y/N countered, their voice laced with a mix of annoyance and amusement.
Draco rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Always finding something to complain about, aren't you?"
Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk of their own forming. "Well, someone has to keep you in check, Malfoy."
As the trip continued, their bickering continued. Every interaction between them was laced with snarky comments and subtle jabs. But beneath the surface, there was an undeniable chemistry that neither of them could ignore. Every look or touch was charged with unspoken emotion, a tension between them that neither could deny. Even when they fought, there was a deep understanding of each other's feelings that kept them connected throughout the trip.
During a visit to a picturesque village, Draco and Y/N found themselves exploring together. The narrow streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of market vendors, but their focus was solely on each other. They wandered aimlessly, their banter providing a soundtrack to their journey. The tension between them seemed to grow with each passing moment, filling the air with an almost tangible electricity.
As they strolled along, they came across a small park, secluded and peaceful. Unable to resist the lure of the empty benches and serene atmosphere, they sat down, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.
"You know," Y/N began, their voice softer than before, "I've always wondered why we seem to clash so much, other than the fact you are a spoiled little prick."
Draco's expression softened, curiosity evident in his eyes. "And what conclusion have you come to, Y/L/N?"
A small smile played on Y/N's lips. "I think it's because we bring out the best in each other, even if we don't always realize it.
Draco's gaze softened, his walls crumbling in the presence of Y/N's vulnerability. "Perhaps you're right. We've always pushed each other to be better, even if we've gone about it in the most antagonistic way possible."
Silence settled between them for a moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, they reverted back to their familiar bickering.
"You're still as insufferable as ever, Malfoy," Y/N teased, their voice filled with fondness.
"And you're still as infuriating, Y/L/N," Draco shot back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
But this time, the bickering was laced with something different. It held a hint of affection, a deeper connection that both Draco and Y/N were beginning to acknowledge.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the village, they made their way back to the inn. The room awaited them, the single bed serving as a constant reminder of the tension that had simmered between them all day.
Y/N hesitated for a moment, their gaze flickering between Draco and the bed. They took a deep breath, their usual shyness and insecurity being replaced by a newfound confidence. "I suppose we'll have to make do with the sleeping arrangements, won't we, Malfoy?"
Draco's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and desire. "I suppose we will, Y/L/N. Still despise your face though, don’t be spreading around that i allowed you to share my bed."
Y/N smirked, rolling their eyes. "Of course, Malfoy. Wouldn't have it any other way."
And so, with a mix of tension, desire, and undeniable chemistry, Draco and Y/N climbed into the single bed, their rivalry and bickering fading into the background. In that moment, they found solace in each other's presence, their hunger finally acknowledged and their connection strengthening.
When only pure silence was heard right before they fell asleep Y/N heard a whisper yell from Malfoy’s side "You think you're so much better than me? You think you're so much smarter? You're just a nosy, stuck-up, know-it-all-Bimbo!"
"At least I'm actually smart enough to understand the concept of 'personal space!' You're just a spoiled, entitled brat who's never had to work for anything in your life!” she replied firmly yet half asleep
Draco's body tensed at Y/N's comment, their bickering reaching a boiling point. His hands wrapped around Y/N's wrists, roughly manhandling them and pulling them close.
"You're so stubborn!" Draco hissed, his breath hot against Y/N's ear. "Do you seriously think I won't do anything if you refuse to listen to me?"
Y/N glared back, struggling against Draco's grip, but unable to break free.
Draco's grip tightened around Y/N's wrists, a possessive glint in his eyes. He leaned inhis lips brushing against Y/N's neck as he whispered "You're mine, Y/N you belong to me" He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin as she moaned in pleasure
Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched Y/N struggle against him a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered "You know you want this. You want me to take control, to make you mine" With a sudden movement Draco spun Y/N around, pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her bodypinning her wrists above her head as he claimed her lips in a rough, possessive kiss.
Y/N moaned into the kiss, her body responding to Draco's touch despite her angerHe pulled awaya wicked grin on his face as he leaned in to whisper in her ear once more.
"You're mine, Y/N. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you realize it" With thatDraco claimed Y/N's lips once more, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire as he asserted his dominance over her once more
Y/N's struggles ceased as Draco's touch sent shivers down her spine. She arched her backpressing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch. Draco's hands roamed over her body tracing every curve and dip, igniting a fire within her.
Their bickering forgotten, they gave into their desires their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Draco's lips met Y/N's, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned in pleasure. He pushed her onto the bed, his hands roaming over her body as he stripped her of her clothes
Draco pushed Y/N against the wall, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. He gripped her hips tightly, grinding his hard cock against her thigh.
Y/N moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite her anger. Draco's hands roamed over her body, his fingers digging into her flesh as he claimed her as his own.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck as he bit and sucked at her skin, leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's body trembled with desire as Draco's hands roamed over her, his fingers finding their way between her legs.
He teased her, rubbing her clit with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her. As he fingered her, his other hand found its way to her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple until she cried out in pleasure.
He continued to finger her, his pace increasing as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Finally, he pulled his fingers out of her, turning her around and pushing her down onto her knees.
He unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock and thrusting it into her mouth. Y/N took him eagerly her mouth enveloping him as she worked him with her tongue Draco's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as he fucked her mouth with a fierce hunger.
He pulled out of her mouth pushing her back against the wall and lifting her legs up to wrap around his waist. He thrust into her with a fierce hunger, his body slamming against hers with each movement
Y/N cried out in pleasure, her body writhing against his as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Draco's thrusts became more urgent and intense, his body trembling with desire as he neared his own peak.
As he continued to pound into her, his grip on her throat tightened leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her with a fierce hunger
Their bickering reached a boiling point, with Draco manhandling Y/N and claiming her as his own, he took control making her his in a rough, possessive kiss and teasing her with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her.
Finally, they reached their climax, their bodies writhing in ecstasy as they cried out each other's names. Draco asserted his dominance once more, reminding Y/N that she belonged to him.
Draco's grip on Y/N's body loosened as he pulled out of her, his chest heaving as he looked down at her. Y/N's eyes were closed, her body still trembling with pleasure.
Draco leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "You're mine, Y/N. Always" Y/N opened her eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"I know," she murmured, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't want it any other way"
Draco helped Y/N to her feet, holding her close as they stood there, their bodies still intertwined. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his hands trailing down her body as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I could never get enough of you"
Y/N blushed, leaning into him as she whispered back, "I feel the same way about you Draco. I love you"
Draco's eyes softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I love you too, Y/N. Always and forever”
They stood there for a few moments longer, their bodies entwined as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. Finally they pulled apart, their eyes meeting as they smiled at each other
Draco took Y/N's hand, leading her towards the bed. "Come on" he said, his voice low and husky. "Let's get some rest, we have a lot more exploring to do tomorrow"
Y/N smiled, following him to the bed as they settled in for the night, their bodies entwined as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
Text
DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!
Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.
He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.
(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)
He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.
He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.
He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.
Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.
Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.
Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.
He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.
So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.
He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.
What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?
He flirts with Death.
Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.
Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.
Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.
"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.
He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.
Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.
"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."
Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."
"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.
"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.
"Please don't call him that."
Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."
Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."
"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.
Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.
He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!
"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"
"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."
"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.
"I'm older than you"
There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."
"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.
While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.
"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"
"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"
Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.
"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.
The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.
"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"
Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.
It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?
Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.
Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.
Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.
Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.
Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.
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changetyre · 2 months
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Lando is secretly dating a girl he knew from high school, and she meets Daniel Ricciardo at one point, Lando brings y/n to a race very discreetly and there is some jealousy with Daniel and it ends up with a quickie in his motor room, and lastly their relationship is exposed in some way
Please☺️
You're mine and it's time to let them know II Lando Norris x Reader ⓈⒽⓌ
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SUMMARY: Lando has loved nothing more than to have you all to himself for so long but it only takes Daniel Ricciardo to make sure the world hears you scream you're his.
WARNINGS: **18+**
A/N: I switched the request a little I hope you don't mind It just sort of worked better in my mind like this ;)
"You ready darling?" Lando walked into your shared bedroom after the last-minute business call he had to take. "Woah." He bit his lip eying you up and down.
"No baby...I know that look we're already running late." You couldn't hold back the smirk at the way you saw your boyfriend looking at you knowing that look would only lead to another and you'd both end up wrapped up in the sheets soon after.
"What? I don't know what you're talking about." Lando feigned innocence although he walked towards you wrapping his hands around your waist loving the way you felt in his arms especially when you looked like this.
"Lando." You said his name in a warning tone as you finished putting your earrings in.
"It's times like this I hate that we're a secret...how am I supposed to keep my hands off you tonight?" Lando pouted, his usual child-like behavior showing.
"Well you've done for 6 years I'm sure you'll manage another night." You smiled grabbing your boyfriend's hand before guiding him out.
"At least let me kiss you." Lando stopped and pulled you back you as you were about to open the front door.
"I just put lip gloss on." You pouted this time.
Lando obviously didn't find a problem with this as he happily took your pout as an invitation to close the space between you both and kiss you a little more intensely than you'd thought he meant.
By the time he pulled away, Lando knew he had left you in a daze. "Lan-" your breath skipped as you saw the lip gloss around your boyfriend's lips.
"That should do for a few hours," Lando smirked as he took his fingers wiping the gloss that had spread around your lips and proceeded to use the back of his sleeve to wipe the excess around his own lips before exciting through the front door.
________
You arrived on separate cars not being new to the hundreds of cameras that would be waiting at the entrance to the gala. After so many years of hiding their relationship, everything was rehearsed when they were in public.
It was fun, you thought almost like your own Hannah Montana movie. People knew who you were, completely aware to your ties with Lando from being classmates in high school to working together in the same industry now.
That's at least as much as the public knew. They weren't familiar with the longer version of the story where Lando and you had actually been more than classmates in high school and were in fact in a long relationship and had mutually decided to work in the same industry to stay together.
Lando of course had always dreamt of being a driver and wanting to stay close to him but also sharing a passion for communication you'd been offered a job as communication manager for McLaren allowing you to stay close, but not close enough for people to suspect there was more.
So thankfully it also wasn't odd for you to appear at the F1 gala as you had been invited ever since you'd started working with McLaren.
What was unexpected though was the fact that a certain someone would take the opportunity to make a move now that he wasn't going to be in the team anymore.
"You look beautiful." Daniel walked to you a drink in hand before he took another one from a passing waiter handing out glasses of champagne.
"Thank you, Dani, you clean up well too." Daniel handed you the new drink as you chose to reply kindly not a stranger to men trying to hit on you but another driver was certainly new territory.
"You know when we were working I was certain you had to be seeing someone but coming to the gala with a dress as gorgeous as this without someone by your side...that is a surprise." Daniel was a lot more intense than you'd expected making you choke on your drink.
"Uhmm...actually-" You were interrupted before you could come up with something.
"y/n come dance with me." Lando walked up to you placing his hand low on your back which took you completely by surprise.
"I was actually hoping to dance with her myself-" Daniel laughed with Lando except Lando didn't seem to find the humor.
"Hmm was always faster wasn't I?" You gasped at the insinuation and watched Dani's smile drop but before you could say anything else Lando had taken your hand and was taking you somewhere.
"Lando!" You shouted after your boyfriend who didn't seem like would stop until he got to his destination.
Lando didn't stop until you were both in a secluded hallway.
"Lando what the fuck wa-" But before you could say anything else Lando had pulled you in holding your waist tightly into him and kissing you passionately.
"You're mine okay? I'm tired of hiding it." He whispered and you could feel his breath tickle your lips as you tried to process what was happening.
"Lan where did this come from?" You weren't exactly opposed to the idea of finally going public but you certainly didn't think today would be the day.
"I just...I'm having a hard time keeping my hands off you in this dress." Lando smirked repeating his words from a few hours earlier before he took your hand once more pulling you into the men's bathroom and locking the door after him.
"Lando what has gotten into you!" Your smile deceived you as Lando picked you up and sat you on the bathroom counter.
"Can't a man just show his girlfriend how much he fucking loves her?" Lando smirked as he kneeled in front of you and wasted no time in attacking the space between your legs.
"Ahh-" You were breathless in seconds as Lando licked at your clothed clit for a few seconds before shoving your panties aside and sucking you directly.
"Let me see you baby-" Lando seperated his lips from you for a few seconds and you knew exactly what he meant.
You shimmied the straps of your dress off your shoulders letting Lando see your bare chest as his hand came up to cup your left boob.
"Lando please fuck me-" you begged your boyfriend as you felt yourself getting close.
"Only because we need to be quick pretty girl." Lando obliged coming up to kiss you and letting you taste yourself on his lips as he aligned himself with you.
"Mhm-" you moaned into your boyfriends lips as he pushed into you starting to set a pace immediately.
"How does that feel baby?" Lando asked.
"Mm so- so ahh-so good Lando-" You were struggling to formulate words with how good he could make you feel.
"That's it darling, let everyone hear who you're screaming for." Lando grunted.
"AHH LAN!" You weren't able to contain your volume as Lando quickened his pace without previous warning but something told you he intended for this to happen.
"Who's making you cum baby?" Lando asked as he could feel you start to clench around him.
"Ah-Ah- you- you Lan-only you-" You moaned not even sure how loud you were being but quite frankly you didn't care.
"Fuck...that's it." Lando was satisfied enough as he slowed his pace after fucking you through your orgasm and finishing himself. "That's it, darling." He kissed you softly, a clear contrast to the way he'd just fucked you seconds before.
"Everyone's gonna know now Lan-" you commented as you pulled the straps back over your shoulder and Lan cleaned you up gently.
"That was the idea yes-" Lando smirked proudly planting a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling your dress down and patting it down for you.
"Was the idea everyone or Dani?" You asked laughing to yourself knowing how childish your boyfriend could be.
"Hmm let's say one of those was an added bonus" He winked as he watched you fix your hair and tried to clean yourself up a bit.
"You're insane." You turned to face your boyfriend.
"And you still said yes." He smiled before kissing you once more, proudly wrapping his arm around your waist and enjoying the rest of the night unashamedly with you by his side.
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A/N: This is the first time I do a twitter au on Tumblr but don't expect them frequently cause I hate doing them I just thought it went well with this story ;)
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
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What would Alastor and his wife's honeymoon be like?
Alive? Alive.
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️ Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Suggestive!! Traumatized taxi driver, MISCHIEF
Description: ☝️⬆️
I imagine Alastor wouldn't want to go very far for his honeymoon, liking to stay in the general area should his mother need him
Expect a lake house or cabin, something with fresh open air, water to swim in and all the amenities of home
It'll be beautiful but secluded, just you and your new husband for the foreseeable future
Alastor is positively giddy the entire ride there, unable to stop looking at you and kissing you whenever he can
You would almost be embarrassed if it weren't for the fact that you were just as delirious with happiness
You two could barely keep off of each other, cuddling and holding each other as if scared one of you would dissappear
He's kissing along your arm in an almost cartoonish manner when you two arrive, the taxi driver having to cough awkwardly for his attention
Your husband doesn't even try to look embarrassed, holding you close to him as he pays the driver
Alastor is smug, not at all bothered by the way you blush and clutch at him to hide your face from the flustered driver
He still can't believe that you're his wife now, never having thought he would be the type to marry
He never thought he would enjoy looking for engagement rings or feel nervous at the idea of proposing, but you changed all that
And now he has you as his wife, something that fills him with pride whenever he thinks about it
He will insist on carrying you over the threshold, not matter how much you squirm and blush-he just eats that shit up anyways
Doesn't immediately rush into sex and breaking in the new marriage, instead wanting to help you unpack
Good because you two still need to pay the driver-
"Darling, let your husband carry that~ It's quite heavy~"
"Honey, your wife is capable of carrying a suitcase."
He doesn't miss the way you roll your eyes and shake your head to hide a fond smile from him
You love this ridiculous man
Alastor does, however, keep pinning you against every bit of furniture and kissing you like it's the last time he'll ever get to
You can't help but wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, turning it into an impromptu make-out session
He leaves you whimpering and weak in the knees each time before going off and getting more of your things
The driver wishes you two would just PLEASE hurry up so he can GO
Please, there's something terrifying about your husband, and you keep coming back more and more disheveled, and is that lipstick on your husband's neck-
The place you two stay at is absolutely beautiful, Alastor having thought of everything he could to impress you
Sun, a cool breeze, flowers blooming and dropping petals all around the property-it's all just quite romantic
He keeps kissing your hand, lips hovering over your wedding ring as he gazes at it with pride
Your first night together as a married couple is terribly passionate and steamy, the two of you finally letting loose all those building urges
All that time together and you had only known Alastor to be a gentleman, not this intense man hell bent on leaving your legs shaking and voice hoarse
Sure, he's just a man, but you're certain you saw a demon in bed with you that night, biting and clawing at any part of you he can reach
Not that you minded, it only served to make everything more real for you, each mark and jolt of pleasure proof that this wasn't just a dream
Plus, you gave back everything he gave you so you two are even
You don't want to get out of bed the next day, whining and clinging to your husband as he tries to get up
"Come now, darling, we can take a hot bath to soothe those muscles then get some breakfast~"
You still pout, but let him carry you to the bathroom, FORCING him to brush his teeth before any morning kisses come your way
The bath is heaven on your body, leaning back against your husband and letting him kiss and nip along your neck and shoulders
He's almost reverent with the way his hands glide over your skin, making you shudder and sigh against his chest
You both get distracted and the water has gone cold by the time you two manage to leave the bath
It's almost like you two are teenagers, giggling, kissing and holding hands like it's something new for you
You two cook every meal together, practically glued at the hip or with Alastor stuck to your back
Insists that you let him try a bite of everything just so he can be fed by you and watch you blush because he's nipping your fingers each time
"I'm going to put a muzzle on you if you keep it up, mister."
"Don't threaten me with a good time, darling~"
"You're impossible."
If you wanna go swimming that's great but just know that this man WILL throw his wife into the water
Even if you just happen to mention it then suddenly he's picking you up and walking you out to the dock
"ALASTOR NO!! LET ME GET MY SWIMSUIT ON FI-AAAAAAHHH!"
Has the most shit eating grin on his face as he kneels down to look at you but will flail and lose it if you drag him in with you
"Well, that's a rude thing to do to your new husband."
You just laugh and wrap your arms around him, brushing noses with your husband
"Get used to it, honey~"
Totally no water kisses or almost drowning each other because you guys play too much
If you want to go on a boat ride in the water, then he'll happily do that for you, rowing you out to the middle of the lake
It's absolutely an excuse to push him into the water and leave him out there as revenge for his earlier prank
"Darling, come back! I've learned my lesson!"
All these water shenanigans are totally not an excuse for either of you to hug the other while wrapping them up in a towel
Or laying together under the sun until you dry off
Lots of cuddling together on the porch swing during the evenings to watch the sunsets together and maybe catching a few fireflies
He'll stargaze with you at night as long as you promise to stay glued to his side, he uses the excuse that he needs you for warmth
Maybe it leads to sex under the stars maybe it doesn't, just know he'll have to carry you inside
If there's a hammock, then he will beg you to lay with him and relax, he'll talk to you about anything and everything if you do
You two take naps together in the hammock
He calls his mother at least once a day the entire time you two are on your honeymoon, only to be flabbergasted when she doesn't want to talk to him
"Alastor, honey... I'm fine, spend time with your wife and quit worrying about me!"
It's actually kinda cute to watch him pout and sulk with his head in your lap, stroking his hair to soothe him
"I just wanted to check on her!"
"Yes yes, you're a good boy, Alastor...~"
He just groans and buries his face in your stomach
He takes you out for a lot of romantic walks in the woods, and you're so enamored with how beautiful everything is that you miss the way your husband looks at you
He just thinks you're the most beautiful thing here and can't look away from you, can't believe you're his wife
Every single time you think you're lost, your husband always knows which way to go, navigating the woods with ease
Alastor will carry every cool rock or pretty flower you find, amused by your antics but secretly keeping an eye out for his own forest treasures
He found a small animal skull and was quite proud of it
At some point, all your precious items are dropped on the forest floor, and you find yourself pushed up against a tree and kissed by your husband
His hands purposefully slide up your clothes and you two end up having a quick romp in the forest
You're then half embarrassed and half swooning over the fact that Alastor starts carving your names into the tree you two just soiled
"Are you marking your territory right now? Is that it?"
He just chuckles and shakes his head, concentrating on getting the heart around your names just right
"I'm making it our special tree, so we can always find it when we visit~"
Ugh, how did you get this man to marry you???
You two don't get back until it's dark, when suddenly you have to stop and grab Alastor's arm to keep him from moving
"Did you hear something?"
He's on full alert, immediately wrapping a protective arm around you and gazing into the darkness ahead of you both
He seems almost predatory like this, gaze sharp and intense, you aren't sure if you'd want to run into your husband in the dark
There's the sound of snapping sticks and rustling leaves, getting closer-
He squints and adjusts his glasses before suddenly relaxing and chuckling softly before whispering to you
"Are you scared of a little deer, darling~?"
You peer out into the darkness, following Alastor's arm until you see two deer walking together
You sigh in relief and lean against your husband, who kisses your forehead fondly and rubs your arm
"Do you think they're on a honeymoon too?"
He chuckles and gives you a squeeze, resting his chin on your head as he hums in contemplation
"I don't imagine that buck plans on sticking around, let alone getting married to the doe. He's probably going to leave her as soon as he finds out he's going to be a father."
You snort and roll your eyes at his less than romantic answer, he could've just gone with it
"Hmph. Typical man. Good thing I got the only good one around~"
"Aren't you lucky~?"
You two stay and watch the deer until they leave, heading back to your temporary residence
How are you NOT supposed to be turned on by your husband fearlessly protecting you against an unknown foe?? He doesn't know what hit him as you push him onto the bed-
He dramatically pulls the covers up to his chin later, giving you a shocked look as you slip on your nightgown
"Just what got into you? You USED me!"
He gestures to the fresh love bite on his neck and his clothes that have been thrown around the room
"It's nothing you haven't been doing to me the entire time~"
You give a wink and blow him a kiss before crawling into bed with him, wrapping your arms around your husband happily
He falls asleep first this time and you'll have to take his glasses off so that he doesn't lose them in the sheets
You two don't want to leave when your honeymoon is over, feeling like time flew by too fast
You two help each other pack up, stealing kisses each time you pass each other
You managed to get one more shower together before you had to leave. Miraculously, neither of you slipped during your...activities
It's the same taxi driver as before which Alastor thinks is hilarious because the man so obviously remembers you both
It's a quiet but happy ride back home, the two of your holding hands and sneaking loving glances at each other as you stare out your respective windows
His thumb is rubbing over your hand the entire ride back, brushing over your wedding ring
It still hasn't fully settled for either of you that you're married now, both of you having difficulties imagining getting used to such a fact
But it makes you both happy and you two can't wait to come back here on your anniversary
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HERE! TAKE IT!!
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avatarkv · 10 months
Text
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EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (2)
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Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc: 5264)
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You swung your legs over the edge, feet ghosting just above the calm lake that surrounded this part of the forest. It was a bit far from the village, but you felt more at ease knowing that you wouldn’t be found easily. This was your own place and ironically enough, a spot you and Jake had found years ago. You could see the familiar marks left from the arrows you had shot, deeply engraved in some of the trunks. 
One drawing had caught your eye. From one of the trees, a bit taller than the rest; an image of you and your father. It was silly, clearly etched by the hands of a kid no older than six. The lines were harsh as the wood itself was tough, but it was there– almost mockingly. You scoffed, mindlessly grabbing a pebble and flinging it right on the center. 
You have barely moved since you arrived here; detached yourself the moment you had sat near the jagged rocks. It was a habit you presumed you got from Jake. The longer you stayed, the more you succumbed to your ever-bleeding wounds– there was just something so tragic about being an eldest daughter.   
You weren’t all bite, despite the constant snarl on your lips. You weren't so egotistical as to think that you couldn't possibly be wrong, but tonight, tonight you knew damn well Jake was to blame. 
‘Is it because I’m not your daughter?’ 
Your own voice had rang through your mind. You wince in response, cringing internally. That could very well be the case– you weren't part of their family. You can’t help but think that they may have done it out of pity. 
But Kiri wasn’t exactly their own either. In fact, you and Kiri weren’t at all opposites at birth.
While you came from Tsu’tey, she was from Grace; both of you from separate blood and brought together by one. However you weren’t exactly close to Eywa or have the skills she possessed. Kiri was undeniably special– spiritual and awfully attuned. Heck, she had managed to tame her own ikran simply by asking it to be her friend. 
Still, there was no reason for Jake to treat you differently. You were jealous– of course you are. If he’s able to be as gentle as he is with your baby sister, why couldn’t he with you? It was a sickening thought, to think that he acts so rigid and unrelenting around you while he looked at her like she had hanged every star in the night sky. Sure Kiri was special, but you were at least his daughter too. Can’t he spare you even just a second of a loving glance?
With Kiri, he listens intently– looks at her with such tenderness as he takes in her every word. It was the same gaze he wore whenever we visited the sky-people lab; Jake would stare a bit too long at Grace, expression somewhere along the line of reminiscing. Whenever he had moments like these, his eyes would hold some sort of longing– a promise. Perhaps it was because Grace meant the world to him– literally. She taught him everything about Pandora, showed him the way of the Na’vi; gave him another shot at living. 
Kiri was exactly like her mother; wise and cunning. Jake probably sees Grace in her very image.  
You’d think this would be the embodiment of every father with their daughters; kind and vulnerable, but you would argue otherwise. When he looked at you, it was more of regret– grief prolonging. It was a gaze so ugly and unwanted; a weight you’re not supposed to carry. 
Because you’re exactly like Tsu’tey and Jake sees him in yourself. 
It was no secret that Jake was softer when it came to Tuk and Kiri. While you are relieved that it had been that way, you can never pray for them to experience the struggles you are burdened with– it tugged on your heartstrings that you would never feel the warmer side of your father; will never know how it feels to be babied nor to be held gently. 
You were her daughter too so you didn’t understand. What made you any different from them that you had to pretend his love was hidden beneath his icy glares and dismissive grunts? These were emotions nonetheless– however odd or minuscule they may have been. You thought that maybe, just maybe, there’d be a crack to this exterior. Maybe if you tried harder, Jake would soften up to you too. 
But that wasn’t the case because he never did. You had picked apart pieces of yourself that you thought weren’t pleasing– did better despite your age. You were young and only yearned for your father’s approval. 
( “You’re not doing it right. Again.” 
As you stretched your already sore arms for the nth time, ready to take aim, his hands tug on your stance– a bit harsher than intended. Light continued to glare down on your figure as you tirelessly corrected your posture again. Your ears pricked up at the sound of your sibling’s laughter, coming to you from afar. You stole a glance at them as they continued to play and enjoy themselves by the water, their childish exuberance highlighted by their splashing around in the shallow waves.
“Can’t I take a break?” You whined, dropping your stiff shoulders. Hearing them have fun made you want to jump in as well. 
“I didn’t let you talk my ear off just to give up. Come on, you promised me a bullseye today, baby girl.” He said, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You look down to your feet, a bit embarrassed. You didn’t want him to not take you seriously– you fear that if you let him down now, he wouldn’t let you do anything again. “Just one hit and I’ll let you off–”
His head turns sharply towards Kiri as she calls out for Jake, asking him to join them in their game. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle as he yells back a short response of ‘in a minute.’
“Again, come on.” His hands move quickly and firmly grasp your arms, helping you back to the same position before. “I’ll be watching, promise.” With a light tap on your shoulder, he rushes off, chasing after your siblings towards the water.
The quicker you got it done, the sooner you would be able to play. You pulled on the string again and released a heavy sigh before releasing the arrow. After several tries of firing shots that missed their mark, you finally managed to hit dead center with one shot. Your eyes widen in surprise, disbelief crossing your face before you jump excitedly, “Did you see that, dad? Did you–”
Your yell was instantly drowned out by Lo'ak's hearty laugh. You couldn't help but feel deflated as you watched your father lift him up onto his shoulders while the others trailed behind them in a fit of giggles. You run towards them, bow in hand. 
“You weren’t watching–” You tried to pull his hand in your direction, gesturing towards the arrow that was still firmly embedded into the red ring you had created on the trunk of the tree.
"Ah, darn, I missed it?" He said between breathy chuckles as Kiri tried to tug on his tail from behind, barely taking note of your work. "Why don't you do it again? This time I'll be sure to pay attention."
“But I want to play with you now.” 
“Dad– Neteyam caught something! It’s huge, come look!” Jake slowly lowers Lo'ak from his shoulders, letting them pull him towards where Neteyam stood. The children squealed at the sight of the fish (with Kiri letting out a few disgusted gags), but Jake reveled in pride. “Yeah, Neteyam, the mighty fisherman!”
You stayed still on the shore watching them– watching him. It was so easy to lose your father’s attention despite your best efforts. You retreated back to your spot, eyes glaring at the arrow sticking out from the tree. If a single bullseye wasn’t enough to impress Jake, then you’d just have to perfect your aim. Your hits will never miss again and you’ll make him proud.) 
You were clueless. If only you knew that there was no satisfying your father, you would’ve spent the days tirelessly training to play instead– to be an actual kid without having the worries of a grown adult. 
You could leave. At the thought of it, your head swiveled towards the unfamiliar path that would take you away from the clan– away from everything you know. You could leave and never come back; take your father’s name and build your own person. There was this selfish thought pricking at the back of your brain that once they noticed your absence, everyone would look for you and even feel sorry for what they put you through; that Jake would be sorry to lose you. 
You wonder what kind of reputation you'd leave for him when everyone realizes you had run away, never to come back. But it was unfair– your mother would be devastated. Neytiri had already gone through enough, were you worth another heartbreak? She didn’t deserve that. 
Suppose you could only dream that Jake would put on an effort for a search party– for him to grow hopeless and regretful while searching for you. You could only dream that he’d run towards you, arms wide open. “You scared me, sweetheart. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, dad’s sorry.” 
But you’ve been away for hours and no one has reached out yet. They probably assumed that you only needed some time and space to clear your head, not seeing any cause for alarm. The only thing that waited for you back home was a hell of a scolding and a week’s punishment of tending the ikrans. Sighing, you decided to just head back.  
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Your steps are careful– silent, as you near your hut again. You expected for the worst. Neytiri could have told Jake to stay guard outside until you finally decided to come home for all you know, but you weren’t ready for another heated conversation with him just yet. So as you make your way back, you stick your neck out behind the bushes, trying to make out of the surroundings. 
Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jake that was waiting outside. It was Kiri. Her figure glows underneath the starry night and it was hard not to be discouraged, but you suppose it was better than having to deal with your father again. 
"Kiri?" You called out in a low voice, and instantly her head snapped up. She quickly jumps to her feet upon seeing your arrival, heart racing as she rushes towards you. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms tightly around you in a hug. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to try and steady herself. “Oh great mother, thank you.”
You tentatively put your arms around her in response, hands patting the top of her head. “This isn’t the first time I ran from home,” Your voice is soft– unsure. 
Feeling your hesitance, she slowly withdraws from you. “But it’s the first time sempul has said something so..” She stops herself mid-sentence, shaking her head as if to clear away her thoughts. “I worry you’d finally want to leave.” 
You stared at her, feeling your insides soften. You could never get angry at Kiri, no matter the situation. You couldn’t just leave. She was your sister still and no one would ever understand you like she does. No one will ever grow you another sibling. As much as you hated yourself, you were meant to watch as she thrives.  
Siblings were such a weird concept; it was hard for you to wrap your head around it. Despite the fact that you could hate them with every fibre of your being, you’d still love them unconditionally and protectively; despise them but burn down the whole universe for their safety. It made no sense to be so full of such strong, conflicting emotions all at once, but she was your sister and that was enough explanation.
“Stupid eywa-powers.” You joke as you take your index finger, lightly pressing it against her forehead. She playfully swats your hand away with a laugh, eyes crinkling.
She silently murmurs, “Not stupid” to herself, a small laugh escaping her lips.
You two slowly sat on your wicker chairs in front of the fire. The seat creaked as you made yourself comfortable. Jake was real handy with his hands back then– made all sorts of things for everyone. Wooden Toruks, comfortable hammocks, and each one a special chair. Everyone’s name was etched on the back and although it was a bit smaller now, considering it was made for when you were toddlers, no one had grown out of sitting on it. 
You smiled at the memory. It was like tradition for the Sully family– a silly one, but loved nonetheless. He first made you the wicker chair and although it was rather flimsy, you argued that Neteyam should have one as well when he came around. 
It was so conflicting– to be able to remember your father was mean, despite being kind, then to know him as kind, despite being mean. You fear Jake could be every word you think of but the word father. 
“Remember that time when we played hide-and-seek and we all thought Lo’ak cheated by hiding back at home only to find out we left him at the forest?” Kiri spoke, eyes fixated at the flames. 
You chuckled, “Yeah, even dad was in on it– told us not to tell mom that we left him.”
“Oh– and that one time they left us to Mo’at to have their little dates and came home to see grandma knocked out and her hut a mess?”
You laughed, rather loudly this time. You remembered the memory like it was yesterday– little Neteyam wrapped from head to toe in bandages as you two tried to play healers; pastes and herbs were scattered everywhere while Lo’ak was playing to his own devices happily (something about kid Lo’ak and wanting to play alone most of the time). “Lo’ak and his lisp trying to explain why he was covered in warrior paint all over his body.”
“Ki-ti told me to do it!” Kiri squeaked out in her best impression of Lo’ak, before both of you burst into smothered laughter— careful not to wake anyone up. After taking a few moments to catch your breath, the area was silent once more. There was no sound other than the crackle of the fire, its flame illuminating the darkness in the vicinity. 
“I’m trying to see the situation in both perspectives,” She starts once the quietness grows unbearable. You averted your gaze, not wanting to talk it out with her.
“I really don’t wanna talk about it, Kiri.” You threw your head back, your eyes burning a hole into the night sky.
“I just don’t want it to explode like what happened a while ago again.” 
You kiss your teeth and let out an exasperated sigh, tongue clicking as you exhale. Deep down you knew that there was no getting out of this situation, so you may as well hear what they had to say. “Fine. What’s your diagnosis, doc?” 
The flap of the hut's entrance is suddenly thrown back, revealing a rather disoriented looking Lo'ak stumbling out. It's clear he had just been stirred from his slumber. “You two aren’t as quiet as you think you are.” He said, his voice low. He made his way over to Kiri and sat down beside her with an audible yawn. “What is it this time?”
“Eywa tells me of your troubles,” Kiri starts, ignoring Lo’ak. “Father isn’t at all the greatest, I know, but he’s trying– His choices aren't really the best, but it’s what he knows. If you think about it, he was just as young once and you don’t exactly become a father twice.” 
“What are you saying?” 
“She’s saying– cut him some slack, maybe?” Lo'ak breaks the stillness with an unexpected remark, his voice quite loud in comparison to Kiri's careful words. His comment catches you off guard and you shift your position uncomfortably on your seat.
“Brother, you really have to stop going out with Spider. You and your lingo is getting harder and harder to discern.” Kiri jabs him from the side, “What he means to say is– maybe you should try being the bigger person instead?”
You let out a deep breath through your nostrils, not enjoying the direction of the conversation. Your brow crinkles in concentration as you try to make sense of why the discussion was taking this turn. You had no desire to pick apart the problem any further and yet, here you were– perhaps Neytiri told them to talk some sense to you? To quiet down for the sake of your old man?
Already sensing your anger, Lo’ak quickly interjects again. “Listen, It’s like,” He turns to you, the grogginess in his expression fading away and being replaced by something more serious. “If dad happens to reprimand us, we save our excuses or any reason we have. The response he wants is an apology and an apology is what you’re going to say– that’s it.”
“But that’s unfair.” You let out a groan, lips turning into a deep frown. “Especially to you and Neteyam.”
Lo’ak only lets out a playful scoff, as if he’s trying to lighten the mood. “You mean, especially to Neteyam. Bro’s an automated machine– expect him to immediately take the blame.” He says, grinning. “I think dad is just.. cracking the code still? Shit, I don’t know. He had to learn to live on two different stars. It must be hard on him.”
“Doesn’t it hurt you? Trying to understand someone older?” 
Lo’ak stills for a minute as heavy silence envelopes everyone. “Of course it does. It stings a lot sis– but I think, no parent deserves a resentful son when all they wanted was for me to be better.” 
Then it crashes down upon you like a heavy sack filled with rocks, a realization pressing directly against your chest as you watch Lo’ak’s face, illuminated against the flicker of the flames– the lights cast an image you failed to recognize before. Your brothers weren’t exactly immune to Jake’s ways either. He was equally as tough on them. 
Maybe you can try for their sake. Maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for your father’s open arms. 
“Why don’t you join us tomorrow instead? Take your mind off things. We’re visiting the old shack with Spider,” Lo'ak's hand carefully reaches for your hair, the tips of his fingers ruffling through your braids– a gesture he picked up after Neteyam. You chuckle, suddenly slightly embarrassed. 
“Isn’t it dangerous?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. 
“It is,” Kiri answers for Lo’ak, giving him a pointed glare. “Tuk heard about it and is begging to come along.” 
“More like blackmailed me– I’ll tell mom if you won’t let me come.” He put on a mocking impression of Tuk, sticking his tongue out in an exaggerated way. Kiri gave him another jab, causing him to hiss in response. “But it should be safe.” 
Kiri rolls her eyes. “We are so getting into trouble.”
“You guys go,” You say, back resting against the chair again. “Think I should fix the situation with dad first before getting in trouble again.” 
You feel Kiri’s eyes on you– gaze emitting a sense of gratitude, almost like a tangible thank you for trying. It’s funny how she’s younger than you and yet she looked out for you more than you had. 
You let out a deep sigh as the three of you settled in, reveling in the quiet serenity of the woods. The soft sounds of the forest enveloped you, providing a sense of calm that was hard to miss. Slowly, it lulled you all to a familiar kind of comfort. 
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Breakfast was unsurprisingly silent. 
You felt like the room was full of robots, their limbs jerking and movements mechanically programmed as they ate. As everyone shifted ever so slightly, it seemed almost like they were doing it robotically - stiff and slow. It was like they were walking on eggshells around you and it was hard not to roll your eyes. 
It was painfully awkward– a hard watch as Jake tried hard not to make eye contact with you. Neytiri would occasionally jab him from the side and pinch the fat of his thigh. ‘Talk to her.’ – her glare would send him the message. 
He lets out a sigh before visibly gulping. “Y/n.” 
Your head suddenly jerks upwards from the bowl resting in your lap, startled by your father’s voice calling for you. Neytiri watches in anticipation while your heart pounded madly against your chest. Suddenly, the air fills with tension as all movement ceases. Not a single soul speaks or breathes– waiting.
“Pass the salt.” Jesus Christ. 
You give him a deadpan expression, stretching your arms over to pass it to him. He carefully takes it, shaking it over his already salty meal. Neytiri could only push her hands against her face in frustration, a groan of exasperation coming from deep within. After a few minutes, she finishes up and leaves with Tuk in her arms. The rest follow suit.  
“I’m off,” You finish cleaning up the table, standing up from your seat and grabbing the weapons you needed for an impromptu hunt. Without waiting for a reply, you left Jake alone on the table. 
As you trekked further into the forest, you prayed to Eywa for guidance. You were careful to smear the war paint onto your cheeks and forehead– breathing labored, but focused nonetheless. 
You figured, your father has been doing bad from the recent hunts– only coming home with fruits and small portions of meat, sometimes none at all. It was that kind of season where the animals were out to hide and hibernate. You didn’t know where you got the confidence that you’d be able to return with something, considering the best next best warriors could hardly do so. 
You had to try regardless; you thought that perhaps it could be a way for you and Jake to open up a conversation with each other. Maybe he could soften down his glare a bit when you come home with something to eat– but as hours passed and the sun burned to noon, you were only met with disappointment. 
You stopped by an unfamiliar area, leaning against a tree as you tried to catch your breath. You regret not bringing your ikran with you– just what were you thinking?
As if the great mother had noticed your desperation, a familiar sound roars from a distance. Your ears perked up as you tried to walk through the thick bushes. A lone sturmbeest, drinking by the river. You sighed in relief before hurriedly taking your bow out of your back. They mostly traveled by a herd, but today might just be your luckiest– you stretch your arms, carefully approaching the animal. 
Just this once, you pleaded, be in my favor. 
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The journey home was dreadful. You had been carrying meat and a few bones for what seemed like hours on end, feeling the strain in your back from the task. It was a small sturmbeest– presumably female by the size, but it should be enough to provide meals for a week or so. Before you knew it, eclipse approached fast and you were eager to meet your hammock. 
You couldn’t see; unable to hold any form of light as you needed both hands to carry the heavy sack, but the thought of going home with something to proudly show your father rekindled the sense of pride that was long gone; a feeling you hadn't had in a long time– burned by the countless times you’ve tried to gain even a drop of recognition.
You were successful in hunting a sturmbeest when no one couldn’t for the past weeks– your father would be proud and that was all the strength you needed to continue waking. 
Noticing the familiar path back to the clan, a surge of adrenaline courses through your body from the thought of already nearing home. But as the horns blared from the village, you felt nothing but confusion– What could it mean and why this late? You quickened your pace towards them. 
Ikrans flew in, landing at the open space as everyone gathered around. You squeezed your way in through the crowd– stomach churning as the sound of Tuk's cries became more and more clear with every step; but before you could run to your baby sister, you were harshly pulled back. You immediately recognize your father’s calloused hands, but this time his grip was harsh– unrelenting. Careful not to trip on your feet, you steadied yourself, head looking up to meet his glare. 
“Where were you?” 
And just like that, your thoughts come crashing down around you from the sight of your father towering your figure, leaning in slightly. You feel it in the pit of your stomach; this wasn't what you wanted to come home to, this wasn't what you were expecting.
“Sir I–” 
“The kids are hurt,” Neytiri hissed, tugging him sharply away from you. “For once, hold your tongue.”
He gives you one last glance, nostrils flaring as he walks away. That was your cue to trail behind. You walked behind him, eyes cast downwards as your thoughts raced through your mind. Neytiri is quick to come and stand by your side, soft kisses pressed into the top of your head. “Are you hurt, ma’ite? Where were you?” She softly asks. 
You pause, feeling the words on the tip of your tongue leave the moment you try to open your mouth to speak. For some reason, you felt embarrassed— ashamed. 
“What happened?” You whispered as you neared your grandmother’s hut. You glanced back to your sibling’s shivering figures, all of them unable to look you in the eye. Neytiri didn’t answer either– didn’t know how to tell you that they had found them once again. They processed the severity of the situation still, clearly shaken up and scared. 
Everyone stepped inside, Mo'at immediately gathering each of them in a warm embrace. She spoke her thanks to Eywa in a gentle murmur, kissing the top of their heads. Neytiri quickly drew Tuk into her own arms, easing her shaking body. 
“Outside, now.” Jake whispers before leaving. You take one last look around at all the people in the room before finally following him, your palms beginning to sweat as your anxiety intensifies.
Once you both find yourselves in a place where there were no lingering stares or whispers, (and without Neytiri having to save your ass this time), he turns to you, anger just as fiery as before. He strides back and forth, feet heavy on the ground as he attempts to choose his words carefully.
“I–” He started to speak, but then averted his gaze, his jaw clenched tight as he tried again. “Where were you?” 
You try to swallow the lump forming in your throat as you mull over the question, taking a deep breath before finally attempting to answer. “I went out on a hunt. I have–”
“Without telling anyone firsthand? With scattered avatars over the perimeter?” Jake is quick to interject, arms flailing in anger. “Just what were you thinking? You knew about them going to the old shack and you did nothing to prevent it?” 
Your shoulders slump wearily, feeling extremely overwhelmed. “I only wanted to–”
“Jesus Christ, it’s always about what you want, yeah? You with wanting to be olo’eykte, you with wanting to be heard. You and your goddamn wants had us all worried!” 
And as you listen to him raise his voice, you turn younger and younger– until you were that same kid trying to tug on his arms to look at your first hit; that same kid who would do anything just for a moment of his time. It was like being ten years old all over again and realizing that he was slowly slipping away. That’s where you finally decided that Jake— your father, was just capable of unloving a child. 
You take a step back, feeling the frustration boiling over as well. “Well maybe if you were a better father, they wouldn’t have the need to go against you every once in a while!” You shouted with the same volume as his, “You act as if we’re some sort of troops rather than a family–”
“I do it for you– for everyone! To keep them safe! You think it’s easy?” 
“Well you did a pretty good job because from what I see, they’re shaking in their boots inside grandma’s hut!” You sarcastically remarked, “Best dad of Pandora, yeah?” 
“Jesus Christ,” He mutters under his breath before looking up, as if he was pleading for Eywa to lengthen his patience. He then looked at you, eyes momentarily softening. You were breathing heavily, fangs baring. It was funny, he thought. You weren’t his daughter and yet you stood in front of him now looking exactly like him. 
What he didn’t understand was that it wasn't Tsu’tey’s attitude that was passed down to you– rather, it was Jake’s anger you inherited. This was all him. All his fault. 
“I thought I had it good, having Toruk Makto as a father. Five year old me was the proudest, if not a bit boastful too.” You muttered, gaze not meeting his. “There’s this huge difference that draws the line between being the olo’eyktan and a father and you’re doing a real shit job at the latter.”
I miss the latter, you failed to say. 
You failed to see the way his ears flattened against his head, how his shoulders dropped like he couldn’t hold the weight of the world’s pressure anymore– but you were unable to see him. No, you two didn’t see each other eye to eye. To know that you failed your child was something a parent would never want to hear. His own daughter resented him and it was a heartache beyond repair. 
“You think you make parenting any easier for me?” 
“Then I wish you never took me in!” 
It was such a thoughtless thing to do; to utter words that you know will only harm you more than they would ever heal - but it was there, finally out of your system; a though that lingered for as long as you can remember. Why take me in? Why raise a kid you wouldn't be able to care for?
You only wished that words could be undone but neither of you knew when to bite one's tongue back.
“Yeah?” He challenged, letting out a mocking snicker. “I really wish I didn’t– is that what you want me to say? Then go ahead and leave. Find a new family, see if they won’t find you any less difficult.”
And that was the final blow– the push you needed to leave. You looked at him in disbelief, vision blurry with tears. You shoved the bag right to his chest, forgetting it momentarily amidst the shouting session you just had with your father; the one you desperately wanted to present to him. With nothing else to say, you stormed off, leaving him behind. 
Oh Eywa, there is nothing else as undoing as being an eldest daughter. 
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believe me, i've been trying to post this since 7 am and it's already a quarter 'til 9. tumblr has got to b fucking w me bec i just ran through at least 4 problems trying to get this on my account
anyway, hellaur. i know this is a bit overdue, but i had to make adjustments because i just had to get everyone's inputs and opinions in! i absolutely LOVE everyone's ideas nd you best believe i am trying to make everything word (also bec of the fact that i am a slow writer, so pls bear w me) hopefully i'm doing the story justice! this part went through a lot of modifications bec i kept feeling unsatisfied (i still am, kinda)
also, i couldn't tag a few people! 'm so sorry, some of the names don't pop up when i type it down ;(
tags: @erm2020quinzeanos @al-lethan @violilaqrs @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @hiddensnow1 @lunyyx @pearlsandcoconuts @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch
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sinsofsummers · 10 months
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push & pull
5.7k | din djarin x f!reader
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summary: after convincing him to help you hide from the guild, you teach mando how to enjoy himself. this is the way. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. canon-typical violence, but otherwise it's super canon divergent. din is a touch-starved virgin, soft touches, lap-sitting, the helmet stays on, mask kink, din does lots of whimpering, experienced!reader, mutual masturbation, virginity loss (m), praise kink, creampie, brief aftercare at the end. note: look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't crumble at the thought of skin-to-skin contact. yeah. you can't. anyways this is so long and so self-indulgent. pls forgive me. if mando takes his helmet off by the end of this, mind ur business this is sooooo not canon. note p.2: i'm so sorry this took so long but i was hungover. also this was not meant to be this long. so count this as a big fat thank you for 1.4k as well as my bday present to you guys (for my bday.) impaired editing i apologize.
With the light of both suns in your eyes, forcing you to blink the spots from your vision, you brushed a hand across your forehead. The dry, dusty atmosphere of Tatooine was no joke, and you scowled under the cloth you'd brought with you to cover your mouth and nose.
"Figures," you mumbled to yourself, looking down to see a small pile of sand building on the tops of your boots, the wind blowing it into place. "Why would anyone choose to live here?"
Of course, you weren't looking for a resident; you were looking for a fugitive. The infamous Mandalorion, no less. You'd been given less-than-satisfactory information on the bounty hunter and the reasons for such a high reward for his capture, but it wasn't like you had much choice than to accept the job. Despite what you told yourself, you did actually need the money.
That was before you'd figured out that everyone else in the Guild had been tasked with the same job, turning a high stakes bounty hunting gig into a near-definite suicide mission. Something you didn't want anything to do with.
But alas, here you stood, practically sinking into the hot Tatooine desert. You had to keep shifting your weight to keep at least one foot above the surface. You never knew when you'd have to make a quick getaway. There were still a handful of Guild members left that presented a challenge to collecting your bounty, and of course they were the most dangerous ones.
You kicked a foot forward and watched the sand shift, cursing the trouble that was inevitably on its way. You'd managed to bribe your way to Tatooine, where the Mandalorian was apparently hiding from the Guild. And if you had found the Mandalorian, there was almost no possibility that the others hadn't found him.
Because, if you were being honest with yourself—the one task you excelled in—being a bounty hunter wasn't exactly something you were good at. In fact, you were far from it. With luck and just enough anxiety to keep your feet moving, you'd floundered your way through three years in the Guild, searching for a way out just as quickly as you'd begged for a way in.
So you'd gotten yourself into this mess. Wasn't that how it normally went, though? Quick decision-making skills weren't necessarily a blessing if the decisions you made would determine your chances of living past thirty (spoiler: the chances were significantly slimmer).
You rubbed the dust out of your eyes once more and saw some movement in the distance, the subtle glint of beskar blinking toward you as it reflected the sunlight. Gotcha, you murmured inwardly. The Mandalorian was here, and you were going to get him. Not to turn him in, no; you held no loyalty to the Guild and its cult-like policies.
This job was an escape mission. If he could stay hidden, maybe he had room for one more. You'd cut a deal.
There had to be something you could offer him, if not your skills in combat, or stealth, or—
Or simply human mobility, you groaned inwardly as you felt your ankle roll underneath you, the sand softer than you'd anticipated. It'll be a good day when I leave this damn place.
It was a wonder that the two of you had survived. You'd hardly gotten the chance to give your proposal before he was aiming his blaster at you, and then at the Guild members that showed up in droves behind you. It was all you could do to get out of the way, knowing you'd be hopeless in the fight.
Now, with their bodies scattered around your feet, the Mandalorian standing a few feet from you with his chest heaving, and his beloved ship somehow still functional, you had your chance.
"You're not...very good at this," he said, the helmet masking his voice in a way that made it scratch along the insides of your ears as it traveled to your brain. "You do know that?" he asked, but it sounded more like an accidental insult than a real question.
You threw your hands up, letting them fall heavily to your sides. "Yeah, I told you that," you scoffed. "That's why I'm asking to go with you. Wherever you're headed."
His head tilted, the beskar shining in the setting suns, and you wondered what his eyes looked like under that helmet. Would they be sparkling with mirth or lined with mockery?
"I thought you were kidding," he said sheepishly, shifting his weight. "To get me to underestimate you." He looked like the picture of careful relaxation, although his blaster was still held tightly in both hands, poised in case he needed to aim and fire.
You couldn't help the exasperation in your tone as you lifted your head to the sky, squeezing your eyes shut and placing a curled fist over your eyes. "Why would I do that when I don't want to turn you in?"
He didn't answer.
"You know that there's only two ways out of this, right?" He still didn't answer you, just held his blaster taut and his head tilted to the side, so you continued. "You killed every Guild member that's left. Now it's just you and I. If I don't bring you in—which I'm not exactly dying to do—those rich fucks that are more powerful than us are gonna come find us."
"Find you," he corrected. "Why would I want to add another target to my ship?"
You shrugged. "Yeah, they probably will. But that's only part of the first option. Either they come for me, and you leave me here, and I die—also something I'm not particularly thrilled to think about—or the two of us..." you gestured with your hands to imitate the pair of you getting on the Razor Crest and flying away from Tatooine and its dusty expanse of a landscape.
"Could be a third option," he said quietly, "if you think about it." He lifted his blaster until it was lined up with your chest. "I might just kill you and cut my losses."
Fear might have struck you, but you didn't have the energy to entertain the panic unspooling in your chest. "That wouldn't be very humanitarian of you. Besides," you insisted, hands lifting to portray the image of surrender, "I'm light. I'm quiet. I won't stay with you longer than I need to. Once you get me off this planet, I'll find a place for you to drop me off."
He didn't answer for a moment.
"Literally," you pushed once more, "you can open the back door and push me out for all I care. I just want out of the Guild and all their dumb shit."
You'd known Mandalorians to be quiet, pious, and ruthless, but something about the way his helmet betrayed no hint to what he was thinking or how he might respond...it made you more anxious than you'd ever been in your life. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm. "Well...you're not coming with me. Ship's full."
"Your ship?" you said, incredulous. "That thing would be gone without me."
"Damn luck, that was." His voice had gone hard, but his body was still.
This was...partially true. Your mind flashed with a memory of the way you'd accidentally pulled the trigger on one of your blasters, effectively stunning the last Guild member who'd been attempting to strap explosives to the hull of the Crest. It was the only good thing that you'd done all day.
You curled your lip, annoyance rippling off you in waves. Lifting a middle finger in front of the helmet, you scowled. Hope he can see this under all that beskar, you snarled inwardly. "Still counts."
With a soft huff that you could hear come from under his helmet, the Mandalorian lowered his blaster. "One jump into hyperspace. The first little space rock that's big enough to stand on—"
"Perfect," you interrupted firmly. "I'll be out of you...armor...soon enough."
You'd missed your stop about three years ago. One jump into hyperspace had turned into four, and then ten, and...now you had your own spot to rest your head at night on the Razor Crest.
On that first day, you hadn't known the Mandalorian—"Din Djarin," he'd introduced himself reluctantly one day—was still traveling with Grogu, the sweet child that had begun his journey across the galaxy, hiding from the Guild. But you'd quickly decided it was nice to have another partner in crime, to interact with whenever Din was in the middle of one of his quiet days.
As the days had turned into months, and subsequently into years, the inability to meet Din face-to-face had become less frustrating, although sometimes you wished you could sneak a glance at his hands, or his wrists, or something that might resemble the human underneath the armor.
Once in awhile, deliciously, you could tilt your head just the right way and look forward at him when he was in the cockpit, his helmet pulling away from the cloth under his armor. Between helmet and armor, a sliver of golden skin would glimmer back at you, just begging to be touched. Of course, you never gave in to your silent desires.
This was not the Mandalorian way; you knew this well. Even when you felt his head turned toward you, even when you were sure his hands were reaching for you when you needed his help climbing somewhere, you kept your distance.
Well, for as long as you could. Until he forced your hand.
It wasn't long before you were unable to keep your hands away from him; going up and down the ladder on the Crest, or climbing over the occasional boulder on the routes you walked along when forced to take a respite on an unknown planet. His gloves were always rough in your grip, but you couldn't ignore the way his hands seemed to squeeze yours, tighter than might have been necessary.
And you'd begun letting your hands linger on the beskar of his armor for moments longer than you should—his helmet, tracing the indented curves of the spot where his cheekbones rested underneath, or on his chestplate, where you swore you could feel him lean into you, as if pressing your hands closer and closer to his skin beneath the armor.
You stood beside him as he sat in the chair in the cockpit, guiding the Razor Crest through the galaxy once more, aiming for some undisclosed location he'd neglected to tell you. He usually did things like that; you'd learned not to be offended by his unbreakable instinct to keep things to himself.
It hadn't occurred to you just how long he'd been wearing that helmet until you looked toward him again and noticed the soft curl of a few brown strands of hair that crept from the edges, kissing the back of his neck. They were short strands, but they were long enough to wink up at you as they curled around each other, begging to be touched.
"Din?" you asked, hoping to distract yourself from the thought.
He didn't look at you, but he tilted his head in your direction, just a centimeter. It was enough.
"Why'd you let me stay with you?" you gripped your hands together, as if they had a mind of their own and couldn't be trusted to remain at your sides. "I was horrible at any aspect of being a bounty hunter."
You were used to the way that it always took him a few seconds to answer, coming up with an evenly-expressed response. This, of course, gave you more time to stare at the tendrils spilling from the edges of his helmet.
"You were a risk," he admitted with a shrug, the helmet (of course) not betrayed anything. His voice was calm, even as he continued softly. "I have a particular...proclivity for picking up foundlings," he said with a tilt of his head toward Grogu, who cooed at the mention of him.
You lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not a foundling, though."
If you could have seen his eyes, you were almost positive that they'd be giving you a look that said, are you sure? Instead, he only spoke in his perpetually smooth voice. "You were lost, though, mesh'la."
You still weren't sure what each word in Mando'a meant—he'd been dropping a few words here and there, as if he knew you couldn't interpret them—but you blushed all the same. Before you knew it, your hands were releasing their grip on one another and reaching up to comb through the curls at the base of his neck.
They were softer than you'd imagined; smooth and thick in your grip. "Alright," you said gently, "maybe I was. I never got to thank you, you know."
Your hands were moving on their accord now, silently twirling the curls around the tips of your fingers. You were used to his silent, immobile exterior, so you didn't think he'd be able to feel the way you pressed your hand to the back of his neck. He'd never said anything before that gave the impression that he was aware of your ministrations, so when he leaned back into your touch then, something strong and addiction bloomed in your gut.
When he spoke, you were surprised to hear how shaky his voice was. After three years of hearing nothing but steady syllables fall from his masked lips, you nearly flinched at the stutter in his voice.
"Thank me?" he said quietly. "For..." you could have sworn you felt his heartbeat flutter rapidly in his neck when he trailed off. "For what?"
You pulled your hand away, pretending not to notice the way he shuddered at the loss of touch, his shoulders slumping as if in a pained relaxation. You hid your smirk. "You're not seriously asking that, right? Without you, I'd probably be dead by now." Or worse, you reflected with a quiet pang in your chest.
Din's response was quick this time, an unusual—but not unwelcome—surprise. "And without your perfectly timed luck, I might be without a ship." His voice was thick, trembling with something that might have sounded like desire had it been someone else speaking.
You didn't even think Din had the capacity to know something as heavy as desire. Well, not that he was incapable of feeling desire, just...you'd never thought about what he might do if he did feel it. Would he shove the temptations down, destined to die in the corners of his mind and body?
Your cheeks warmed at your next thought. Perhaps he took care of it himself in the dead of night on the Razor Crest, or on those mysteriously long patrol walks that he insisted on doing alone.
"Yeah, well..." your answer was pitiful and you knew it. But you were too busy looking at the way his body was slumped in his seat, facing forward despite every limb beginning to turn toward you, as if you were a magnetic beacon.
His fingers twitched in his gloves, angling toward you just as his knees began to do the same thing. "Will you..." he trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Mesh'la," he breathed, and he leaned to the side, as if his shoulder was chasing your touch. "Put it back."
You were going to ask what he meant, but you didn't have to. Even with his helmet on, you could practically see the pleading in his body language. Here he was, a devout Mandalorian, begging you to put your hands back on him.
"Please," he said quietly, almost a question. It sounded so unlike him that you wondered briefly if he'd been killed and replaced with an imposter. But by the way that his hand trembled as he took his focus away from flying the Crest and moved it toward you...this was Din.
"You...okay?" you asked, but you obliged his request in return, replacing your hand at the base of his neck. You watched in an unfurling dizzying sense of satisfaction as he reached up his own gloved hand to cover yours, squeezing it gently. "Din," you started, but he shook his head.
"I've never disobeyed the Way of the Mandalore," he said, his voice muffled under the mask. You strained your eyes, wishing you could see beneath the beskar. "I've never wanted to. Not before..." he brought your hand around to rest on his chestplate, and you could feel the pressure of his chest leaning into your touch. "Not before I knew what it might feel like to want someone like this."
Your eyes widened, but you didn't pull your hand away. "You...what?"
His head tilted down. "For once, I don't know how to manage this." He stood up, and suddenly he was towering over you, the cloth under his armor making your fingers itch to tear it off. "How do I manage this?"
"I..." you couldn't hide your shock. "I don't know. It's...isn't it against your religion? It's not the Way."
Din shook his head. "No, it's not." He spread his hand down your wrist and extended it toward your own chest, the leather of his glove seeping into your skin. "But I've also never told anyone my name. Never heard it spoken since I was a child."
You swallowed roughly. "So?"
He huffed a chuckle. Lifting your hands to his helmet, he let your fingers find the divots of the beskar. You didn't miss the way his chest shuddered with a stuttering breath at your touch. "So," he said, "to hell with the Way. For tonight, at least. I need to know you in every way I wish I could."
Such a harrowing request, given the circumstances. But you couldn't stop your hands from tracing the lines of his masked face. "Din..."
"Please." His voice cracked over the single syllable, and it was all you needed.
To hell with the Way, your thoughts echoed his words, and you nodded softly. "Alright," you acquiesced. With one look down, you saw the tent growing in his pants, sending a spike of desire down your spine, settling in your core. "How'll you have me?" you asked.
He let out a soft noise that sounded like a whimper. "Any way that I can," he choked out, his hand returning to your wrist and enclosing it in his grip. "I'll have you any way you'll have me."
You could hardly speak, so you didn't. With a gentle nudge, you pushed him back into his seat. When he sat back, his legs fell open; there was an inviting space between them.
Standing in the spot, just inches from his face, you stared into the black mass of his helmet, hoping you'd get a glimpse of his face. Of course, you knew he would only go as far as he wanted to. If the mask was destined to remain, then...so be it.
With your eyes on his, you moved his hands to your waist, pressing them to your skin and enjoying the feeling of his leather against your body.
He shook his head. "Take them off," he said, again with that whimpering voice. "Please."
You nodded wordlessly and shed his hands of the barriers, heat pooling in your core at the sight of long, thick fingers, his skin finally exposed to you. Returning his hands to your waist, you tilted your head back at the sensation. You were never going to forget what his skin felt against yours.
The melody of shuddering breaths that fell from his lips was unreal, and you wanted to soak up every second of it. Without more than a second thought, you slid your legs over his, straddling his hips and pressing your chest to his chestplate. His hands remained on your waist, but he let them wander, curling them around to cup your ass.
The feeling of his hands on your body made you unconsciously roll your hips forward, which released a strangled moan from his lips. "Oh, god," he mumbled. "Mesh'la, please take it off."
You paused. Your hands fell to your lap, and your eyes were wider than saucers in the reflection of his helmet. "What?"
He picked up your hands in his own, the rub of skin against skin an intoxicating intimacy. "Please," he begged. "If I'm going to touch you like this, I need to see you, cyar'ika. Nothing in the way."
You were going to argue further, but you couldn't ignore the pulsing need that was clouding your thoughts, the same need that pushed your hips further down into his lap. It was impossible to miss the way his cock twitched against your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.
“Are you—”
“Don’t fuckin’ ask me if I’m sure,” he begged, and he squeezed your hips under his hands. “Never been more sure, mesh’la.”
This time it was your turn to let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whispered, more to bolster your own confidence than his own. His resolve was clearly rather strong in this matter, and nothing would change his mind. 
With a hand on either side of the helmet, you gently pulled it up and away from his face, hardly able to believe that he’d agreed to let you rid him of his every barrier. For a moment, as each inch of skin was revealed to you, you caught yourself frantically wondering what he might look like. 
Would he look like anyone else? Would he look familiar to you in that way that only lovers can? Or would he be hiding a deformed brow bone or an abnormally small nose or a crude smile?
Of course, you shouldn’t have even worried. When the helmet lifted off of his head and you let it fall to the floor with a hard thud, you smiled at the face that blinked back at you in wonder. With those brown strands that were just long enough to hang down over his forehead, and the matching brown eyes that twinkled with the moonlight in his pupils, Din Djarin was exquisite.
“I knew it,” you hummed, your eyes tracing every line on his face, every strand of hair that clung charmingly to his forehead. 
His response was a strangled moan, and his eyes fluttered closed of their own accord when you dragged a finger along his jaw, then the hooked line of his nose. “Knew what?”
“I knew you’d be one of the pretty ones,” you grinned, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, swallowing his groan of ecstasy.
You drank it down like the sweetest liquor, the sound pulling your own moan from your chest. His lips were chapped and dry from lack of care, but his mouth was warm and wet and his tongue was deliciously shy as he darted it towards yours. His hands stuttered as they pressed further up your chest and felt for your breasts. You weren’t sure how long he’d last; his chest was already heaving. 
“Din,” you pulled back with a grin. “Din,” you repeated when his eyes remained closed. “Thought you wanted to look at me?”
“I do,” he said, his voice choking in his throat. “I do, mesh’la, I just…I think I might come in my damn suit if I look at those lips too long.”
You cooed, letting a hand search for the roots of his hair, finding a home on his scalp. You curled your fingers in the strands and watched his eyes squeeze shut, his jaw go slack, and felt his hips buck up into yours. “You’re so sensitive, baby,” you hummed, your mind running wild with thoughts of what this could mean. 
“Never been touched like this,” he mumbled, voice cracking again. “Feels perfect, mesh’la.”
“I need you to look at me, Din,” you nodded. “It’ll keep feeling good, I promise. I just need you to look at me.”
When his eyes opened, you could have fallen apart right there at the sight of his glassy brown depths. His lip quivered and you almost thought he’d cry, but then he was letting his hand fall from your chest to your waistband, trailing his thumb along the skin there. “Can I?” he asked gently. 
Nodding, you stood up. “Just keep breathing, pretty boy,” you said softly. “I’ll make you feel good. Show you just how good it can be.” You guided his hands to your waist and let him pull your pants to your ankles, revealing the front of your glistening slit to him. 
Din was just starting to understand the drug-like effects of physical touch, so you weren’t surprised when he leaned forward, fell to his knees, and pressed his forehead to the soft skin of your stomach, breathing deeply as if he were a zealot bent to pray at the altar. 
“C’mere,” you whispered, though unable to hide the growing smirk on your face. There seemed to be nothing more addicting than the sight of the Mandalorian on his knees before you. “Sit back down for me, baby,” you said, tilting his chin up to look at you. “Take those pants off, they look awfully restricting.”
He nodded quickly and obeyed, slipping his pants down to his knees as he sat back on his chair. It was downright sinful—the beskar on his chest but his helmet removed and his cock springing free, the tip red and angry and leaking. “Please,” he begged. “I—”
“I know,” you breathed, stepping closer to him. “We’re gonna make each other feel good now, yeah?”
Din nodded once more, his eyes fluttering shut. “Please, please.”
Well, how were you going to deny him then? 
You straddled him once more, your clit throbbing at the sight of his cock underneath you. But rather than shock him with the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth, you hovered over him, just enough that the head of his cock lay just an inch from your entrance. 
“Mesh’la,” he begged, “please don’t tease. I’ll be good. I’ll make you feel good, I swear to everything I’ve ever believed in—”
A finger pressed to his lips, you shook your head. “I know,” you repeated. “Deep breaths for me, Din.” 
He inhaled sharply and shoved his breath out of his chest. For a moment, his eyes cleared. 
“Good,” you encouraged him, relishing in the look of his wide eyes at the praise. “Such a pretty boy, baby.” You moved his hand to your core, guiding his fingers to your clit. “Rub little circles for me, baby. Make me feel good and I’ll make you feel good.”
He obliged quickly, rubbing tentative circles to your clit in a way that had you smiling gently, loving the sacrilege you were participating in. “Is that g—oh!”
Din’s question was interrupted by your hand reaching down to grip his cock, delivering a quick stroke and making his hips stutter. He tried his best to lift his hips from the chair, clearly aiming for your entrance, but one hand on the beskar on his chest had him sitting back. 
“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, “just like that. Just touch me for a while.”
Ever the gentleman, Din kept his eyes on you and his hand on your pussy, pulling sweet sounds from your lips just as you wrecked him beneath you. Your thumb slid against his tip and he almost came; you could tell by the way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes squeezed shut, lip trapped between his teeth. 
You wanted his fingers to wander toward your dripping entrance, but you knew he might not last long enough for any more foreplay. Next time, you thought smugly. 
Now…now you needed him inside you. 
“Gentle, baby,” you reminded him when he gripped your hip too tightly. You didn’t want to tell him you enjoyed the near-bruising strength; that would be for another time. You could already see that you were close to losing him, and you weren’t going to end this experience without riding him until the both of you saw stars. “One more deep breath, yeah?” 
He was a mess of tumbling words in Mando’a that you didn’t understand, and his brow was furiously furrowed, as if it was taking all of his focus not to come on your hand. As a matter of fact, it probably was taking all of his focus. “Please, mesh’la,” he said again. 
You wondered briefly if you’d begin answering that now; treating it as your name. Mesh’la. 
“Deep breath, baby,” you reminded him, and when he obeyed, you sank your hips towards his. The tip of his cock slid in with no resistance; you were wetter than you’d ever been in your life. “Good boy,” you moaned as you kept your hand on his neck, softly cupping the underside of his jaw to look at you. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”
The stretch of his cock inside you was delicious, and pleasure licked sharply at your insides, begging for a quick release. You knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together much longer based on the whimpers that still crumbled from his throat, broken and jagged. 
“So fuckin’ pretty?” he repeated, his voice a high squeak. He gripped your hips and threw his head back. “So fuckin’ pretty for you?”
Your breath rushed out of your chest in a strong blow and you had to take a deep breath yourself to calm down. “All for me, Din, that’s it,” you continued, and you lifted your hips up. Dropping them back into his lap, you soaked up the feeling of being filled so completely by his cock. With every shred of patience left in your body, you pushed your lips back to his and tasted his moans on his tongue. 
His hips began lifting into your own, the only clue you’d get to his desperation for more. Without a word, you began moving faster, more rhythmically, as you bounced gently on his cock. With the base of his cock pulsing against your clit at every drop of your hips, you were approaching that edge quicker and quicker. “Din,” you moaned, “baby, I’m gonna—”
“Please,” he said, “I want you to feel good, mesh’la. Use me, please, use me, please…”
You were sure your brain short circuited. With no more patience left in your bones, you picked up the pace and chased your own orgasm, knowing he wasn’t far behind. With every squelch of your pussy on his cock, your moans became less coherent, and you leaned your head forward against his neck. 
Pulling back to press a kiss to his jaw, you felt his loins tense beneath you. Something nearly snapped inside you at the sound and sight and sensation of his pleasure so close to release; at the knowledge that it was you who had done this to him. “Good,” you mumbled against his jaw, getting closer to his ear. “Pretty boy, just for me,” you mumbled. 
Din’s chest tightened and his moans became longer and more high-pitched, true whimpers if you’d ever heard one. “Mesh’la,” he begged, “Mesh’la, I—”
You dipped your head down and, while grinding your hips back and forth on his cock at a feverish pace, you darted your tongue out to his neck. Licking a stripe from the crevice of his neck to the spot just behind the soft part of his ear, you groaned in his ear as you crumbled on him, releasing the tension in your body as you came hard.
Din was ruined beneath you, with his neck bobbing and his eyes shut, his head thrown back. Mouth opened in a wide moan, his voice broken over the sound, you felt his release sink into your fluttering walls. He let out a deep cry of words that you didn’t recognize, but you blushed all the same. With the way that his eyes glossed over when he said it, you were sure it was something that reeked of sin and sweat and sacrilege. 
“So good,” you mumbled again, “you’ve done so good for me, Din.” Your face tucked itself into the crook of his neck, and you inhaled the heady scent that belonged only to him. You sat motionless on his lap, but you could still feel his head pulse inside you at the overstimulation. “Did that feel good?” you asked, your hand reaching up to smooth down his hair comfortingly.
He let out a breathless laugh. “If this is sin, I’ll want more of it,” he replied, his arms snaking around your middle to tug your chest closer to him. “I’ll never know how to thank you,” he finished, sighing deeply. His eyes twinkled at you when you pulled away to look at him. 
You shook your head. “No need,” you assured him. “Just catch your breath, brave Mandalorian. Then we’ll talk.”
He nodded, his eyelids growing heavier with the expense of energy now catching up with him. His cock had grown soft inside you, but he made no move to lift you from him. “I did well?” he asked. This wasn’t surprising; you’d known him to be quietly confident, but the Mandalorian was never one to pass up the opportunity for someone to reassure his talents.
You grinned and leaned forward to press your lips to his hooked nose, fighting the urge to nip at it with your teeth. Next time, you reminded yourself. “You did well,” you nodded. “Feeling okay?”
He splayed his hands on your back and inhaled near your chest, his face buried into the soft skin of your breasts. “Never better,” he reassured you, rubbing his hands along your spine. “So sweet to me, baby,” he murmured, repeating your own affection back to you. 
The two of you remained like that, just wrapped together in a mess of limbs and sweat and come mingling together. When he began to wince with the overstimulation, you lifted off of his cock but remained in his lap. You pulled back and leaned your forehead against his. You watched his lips, plump and sitting perfectly, waiting to be kissed again. 
“What does mesh’la mean?” you asked instead, the word strange and unfamiliar on your tongue.
He looked at you for a long time, bringing a finger up to trace the line of your mouth. “Put your lips on mine again and I’ll teach you,” he offered casually, as if his pupils weren’t still blown wide, his eyelashes still fluttering from the power of his release. 
You smirked. “This is the Way, huh?”
For once in his life, Din Djarin smiled at you. “This is the Way.”
tysm for reading! so glad to be back, i'm sorry if the smut scene seemed rushed and out of pace! again: i was hungover. pls forgive. lemme know what you think!
adding tags here cause i'm going grocery shopping at 8:30pm BYEEEE
this is a good morning fic for @thetriumphantpanda and the aftercare bit at the end was specifically for @cavillscurls i know u crave it girl
the rest of the taggies: @mingiast @iluvurfather @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tightjeansjavi @chaotic-mystery @dinsdjrn @huffle-punk @tommymilllers @milly-louise @struig @butiknewyoudlinger @alejaa-a @worhols @thegreat-annamaria @easaud @country2212 @sleepdeprived-feelalived @pertinentpostmortem @lailaispunk
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roosterforme · 4 months
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Sundays Are for the Boys | Hangman x Reader
Summary: Football Sundays are a sacred tradition amongst Jake and his friends, and he's quick to make sure you know that. But when the boys discover your favorite drink in the refrigerator, Jake makes an exception to his rule.
Warnings: Fluff, language, a tiny bit of smut, 18+
Length: 2600 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Written for Pick Your Poison! Banner by @thedroneranger
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Dating Jake came with one firm rule: Sundays were for watching football with the guys. 
"I mean it," he'd told you months ago when you first started dating him. "I host every week. They come over around ten when the games start, and they don't leave until after the last game ends. No wives. No girlfriends. Just a cooler filled with cheap beer. Sundays are for the boys."
At the time, you thought it was cute that he wanted to spend the day with his friends. "That's adorable," you told him, kissing his cheek. But by the time football season arrived, Jake was already in his Dallas Cowboys jersey, shaking you awake on Sunday morning at nine.
"It's almost game time, Baby. The guys will be here soon."
You looked up at him from his bed with a little smirk. "You're really into this, huh?" 
He kissed your forehead and started to pull you to your feet as you laughed. "It's a thing. I told you this months ago." He patted your bare butt as you looked around for your clothes from the night before. "It's week one, and the Cowboys play the Eagles in the early game. I love putting Payback in a bad mood."
You kissed him before you slipped your underwear on. "I know you do."
He was antsy, and you knew he wanted you to leave, but you also knew he didn't want to say it as he kissed you over and over again. "Baby, you gotta go," he finally whispered as you smiled against his lips. 
"I know, I know," you replied, still amused as you finished getting dressed and packed up your stuff. "Go Cowboys."
Each week, your relationship progressed, but this little routine stayed the same. Jake would inevitably wake you up by nine if you weren't already up. He would be wearing one of his many Dallas Cowboys jerseys. He would walk you out to your car and tell you how much he loved you before you left him to entertain his friends. 
But one Sunday, you woke him up with a blowjob on his birthday. And you took your time with it. Did you have a bit of an ulterior motive? Sure. But it didn't detract from the fact that you wanted him to enjoy himself, and you certainly made sure he did. He was coming hard at exactly 9:42 with his hand on the back of your head and his cock tapping your throat. 
"Oh, fuck!" he groaned. "Fuck!" 
You licked him clean and grinned up at him before kissing his hip and whispering, "I love you, birthday boy." Then you climbed out of bed, kissed his lips and started to get dressed. "It's almost ten. I'll head out."
You saw him waver a bit before he nodded. Then his doorbell rang, and you just knew it would be the guys starting to arrive. He kissed you deeply one more time before pulling on his blue and gray jersey and some gym shorts. "Take your time getting dressed. I'll go let them in."
"Sounds good," you replied. And twenty minutes later, after you'd fixed your hair and put on the tiniest bit of makeup, you waltzed out into the living room where there were now six guys spread out on Jake's sectional couch with an open cooler of beer on ice in the middle of the floor and bags of chips seemingly everywhere. 
It was kind of fascinating, getting to catch a glimpse of this carefully curated world that he worked so hard to keep private. Your plan was to quietly sneak out the front door, but you had to stifle your laughter as you heard Bradley tell your boyfriend, "Your Cowboys look like a bunch of fucking pussies this week."
"You're one to talk, dipshit," Jake replied without missing a beat. "The Steelers are 2 and 4." He went back to sipping his beer.
"Both of you are delusional," Coyote told them as he cracked open a can and shoved a fistful of chips into his mouth. 
You skirted around the outside of the room as you eyed them in their various colorful jerseys while you thought they were completely focused on the game. Then you heard Fanboy call your name. "You're leaving?" he asked, looking at you as he ate some beef jerky.
"Yeah," you said with a little laugh as Jake got up to peck you on the cheek. "You know, Sundays are for the boys and all that."
Just then, the Cowboys scored a touchdown, and Jake hoisted you up in the air as you screeched in surprise. Half of the guys groaned, and half of them cheered, but your boyfriend held you tight as he tossed aside his empty beer can and said, "You can't leave until they kick the extra point." So you just stayed there, your feet not even touching the ground as Jake held his breath, and then the Cowboys went up by one more point. Then Jake walked you to your car, nipping at your neck the entire way.
"Don't you have to get back inside?" you whispered as he filthy kissed you, pressing you against the driver's side door. 
"I will," he grunted. "Feel like you're my lucky charm right now."
He kissed away all your lip gloss and messed up your makeup, but when you finally drove away, you had a smile on your face.
------------------------
"What are these things?" Reuben called from the kitchen. Jake turned to see what he was holding up.
"High Noons," he replied before focusing back on the game. "My girl's obsessed with them. It's like a fancy hard seltzer."
"Can I try one?"
"Yeah," Jake told him, knowing he'd just replace them later for you. 
Javy was currently sitting on the floor, practically in tears as the Saints gave up another touchdown to the Dolphins. Mickey's loud cheering had everyone else laughing. "Dude, you'll lose your voice again like last week," Bradley told him as he accidentally spilled potato chips all over the floor before picking them up and eating them anyway. 
"It'll be worth it if the Saints lose!" Mickey cheered. 
"Hey, what's that?" Bradley asked Reuben as he chugged the High Noon can and belched. "Some sort of girly shit?"
"Yeah, it's fucking good."
A minute later, everyone was drinking them, including Jake. "This is delicious," Bob muttered.
"For real," Reuben agreed. "Your girl has good taste."
Bradley snorted as he opened another can. "Not in guys." He and Reuben started cracking up at Jake's expense while he rolled his eyes. 
Then Javy was on his hands and knees crawling toward the TV and shouting, "Get him! Get him! That's a fucking sack! Fuck you, Fanboy! Fuck you, dude!"
The room was in chaos as Javy ground the potato chip crumbs into the carpet. When Jake's phone vibrated, he saw it was a text from you and realized he kind of wished you were here right now.
I miss you. Are you having fun with the boys?
He smiled as he checked the time. The Cowboys game would be starting in less than an hour, and they always seemed to play better whenever you were in the room for those fleeting few minutes before you left him to his Sunday tradition. He tapped his fingers on his thigh and contemplated texting you back. 
"Hey, Jake, are there any more of these things?" Bob asked, holding up his empty High Noon can. It was a testament to how good they tasted that Bob was even drinking one in the first place. He absolutely hated beer.
"I don't think so," Jake muttered, almost to himself as he read your text again. "Let me check." He started his response to you and then finished it after he looked in his nearly empty fridge.
I miss you too, Baby. Where did you get those High Noons? The boys drank them all, and they loved them. I'm going to need to stock up.
When he looked up from his phone, Javy was on his back, kicking his feet in the air, because the Dolphins had scored another touchdown. "No!"
"Hey, Hangman, you're out of chips," Bradley complained, shaking the empty bag into his open mouth before frowning. 
Now Mickey was dancing around Javy on the floor as the final score of the game flashed across the bottom of the screen. His Dolphins had beat Javy's Saints, and Reuben was already changing the channel for the next game that was about to start. But you had texted back again.
Why is that so adorable? I'm just about on my way home from lunch with the girls. Want me to stop and get another case or two? Maybe some snacks? I can drop them off.
Jake grinned; even the idea of you stopping by for a few seconds made him smile. He texted you back letting you know that he loved that idea, and then he stepped over the chaos on his floor and dropped down next to Reuben. Just as the intro to the Cowboys and Steelers was starting up, Jake said, "My girl's stopping by with more of those drinks and some snacks, so please behave while she's here."
"We will," they all replied in unison, though he highly doubted that would actually be the case. 
Then the game started, and they were all distracted, because it was Jake's team against Bradley's team. "Your precious Cowgirls are going down," Bradley muttered, practically licking the inside of the chip bag.
Jake realized he was hungry too as he flipped him off, and he could hear Reuben's stomach growling. The Cowboys were looking terrible in the first quarter, and now Bradley was sitting on the edge of his seat as the Steelers were poised to score a touchdown.
But then, just when you walked in carrying some fresh High Noons and a platter of hot wings, the Steelers threw an interception, and the Cowboys ran it back all the way for a touchdown. "Fuck yes!" Jake shouted, practically ripping the food and drinks out of your hands to get to you. "Come here, Baby. Come sit on my lap."
"Seriously?" you asked, clearly surprised as Jake pulled you along with him while the other guys tore into the seltzers and chicken wings like they were wild animals. Well, everyone except for Bradley who was on his knees on the floor, staring at the TV in shock.
"Thank you for the food and the High Noons," Jake drawled, grinning against your neck as he held you close. "You're the best." 
"You're welcome," you replied, really getting into the game now. "Cowboys are already up?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Bradley groaned. And it just kept getting better from there. Jake got to have you snuggled up on the couch with him while he ate wings and drank seltzers all afternoon. 
When you tried to leave at halftime, the guys whined for you to stay, and Jake pulled you closer to him. "Baby, no. The Cowboys have done nothing but get touchdown after touchdown since you got here. I need you to stay."
You laughed and opened a High Noon for yourself with an amused look on your face. "Alright, Jake. Whatever you need."
-----------------------
When you woke up on Sunday with Jake kissing your neck and whispering, "Time to get up," you groaned. You were still exhausted from working all week, but you stretched and slowly got out of bed. "Where are you going?" he asked, reaching for you as you stood and looked at him.
"Home?"
He shook his head like he couldn't be more confused. "Why? Baby, the Cowboys play at ten. The boys will be here soon."
"Yeah...." you replied, reaching for your clothes. "That's why I'm leaving. Sundays are for the boys."
Now he was honest to god pouting. "But, I don't want you to leave. I love watching the games with you, and the guys keep my place cleaner when you're here. They actually belch less too. Really, overall, they are much less insufferable. And besides..." he whispered, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into bed. "I think you're my lucky charm."
"Really?" you asked as he pinned your hands above your head on the pillow. 
"Mmhmm," he hummed as he kissed you. "You make my team do better, and you make me happy. Stay."
You were melting at his touch. "Well, how could I say no?"
The following week, Jake was opening a seltzer for you, and when you looked around, all of the guys were drinking them. Mickey tapped his can to yours. "These are delicious. I feel so sophisticated. You're a genius."
The week after that, Javy ordered pizza only after discreetly asking what your favorite topping was. "The rest of them would eat cardboard with red sauce on top of it, but I want to make sure you get the kind you like."
The week after that, Reuben and Bob both jumped up to get you a new can when yours was empty, and Bradley begrudgingly said, "I still like you even though Jake fucking ruined you by turning you into a Cowboys fan."
You started staying later and later, and you noticed that Jake filled the cooler with fewer beers and more seltzers each week. And on the last Sunday of the regular season, the guys showed up with a sad looking, half crumpled up gift bag and handed it to you as you rearranged the pretty charcuterie board you'd been working on for them. 
"What's this?" you asked, peeking into the bag at some pink fabric.
"It's for you," Javy said. "You're one of the guys now." 
Jake grinned at you from the open refrigerator where he handed out High Noon cans to everyone. "You knew about this?" you asked him as you reached into the bag and pulled out a pink Dallas Cowboys jersey with your own name on the back. 
"Of course I knew about it, Baby. I had to tell them your size."
"Thank you," you whispered as you looked at it, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. "I love it." When you looked up at them, they raised their seltzer cans in a toast to you, and you ran to Jake's bedroom to get changed.
You had your own jersey color now amongst the rainbow of teams everyone rooted for, and Jake kept you close as the Cowboys played. The cooler of slowly melting ice offered up High Noons to you and the boys, and by the time it was getting dark outside, you were standing next to the TV with your hands in the air. 
"Ready?" you asked them a little loudly as you giggled, but you weren't the only one who was tipsy and silly. "Here we go!" You led them in a hideous, off-key rendition of I've been waiting all day for Sunday night. After weeks of watching football, everyone had all of the ridiculous lyrics memorized, and it ended in laughter as you curled up next to Jake on the couch.
"I love Sundays," he said, his arm slung around your shoulders. "And I love you, Baby."
You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Sundays are for seltzer drinkers."
------------------------------
You slowly infiltrated, and now Sundays are yours. Thanks @thedroneranger for making pretty mood boards like this one and letting us write about them. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
Don't forget to read the second part! This Sunday Is for My Girl!
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