#this barely counts as that ship but fuck you i do what i want

[tizniz]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @devirnis 🩵

How many works do you have on ao3?

42. (Will be 43 tomorrow!)

What's your total ao3 word count?

172,166

What fandoms do you write for?

Currently 9-1-1, previously Harry Potter, Merlin, Percy Jackson, YouTubers, others

Top five fics by kudos:

Buck's Boyfriends

Threes Not A Crowd

Flare Up

Eddie's Housewife

a place where i feel at home

Do you respond to comments?

Every single one.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Come ask me after tomorrow's story.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uh....most recently, I'd say Buck's Surprise that I wrote for Hippo.

Do you get hate on fics?

I have received one comment that was sort of 'mean' (but lead to me meeting Sunny 🥰) and then I got one mean comment that I deleted.

Do you write smut?

Hahahahahahaha. Yes.

Craziest crossover:

I do not personally write crossovers.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yup. Back when I posted on WattPad when I wrote imagines for YouTubers.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes. Me and my ex wrote a LOT together. And then more recently I was writing with someone (unfortunately, due to reasons, that has since stopped).

All time favourite ship?

Merthur will always hold a special place in my heart. But Buddie has revived my writing inspiration in ways I haven't seen in so long. And then special shoutout to my OC and some of her pairings.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Honestly? Probably my soul mark fic....

What are your writing strengths?

Fuck if I know. I'm hard on myself and barely think my stuff is good most days haha

What are your writing weaknesses?

Al, Hippo, and Ellie will yell at me if I say everything. So...uhm...sometimes I feel my writing is too simple?

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I am very careful to use as little as possible, because I struggle with English some days, and that's my native language.

First fandom you wrote in?

McFly. Back when I was on Fanfiction.Net....wow.

Favourite fic you've written?

Of my published ones? Fight or Flight or saving you, saves me.  Of my WIPs? Recovery. Of my secret fics? Either the entire universe that is Time Travel II or my Peter Pan modern verse stories. Neither of which are 9-1-1 fandom.

NP tagging: @hippolotamus, @actualalligator, @actuallyitsellie, @perfectlysunny02, @theotherbuckley, @spotsandsocks, @bidisasterevankinard, @elvensorceress, @daffi-990, @dangerpronebuddie, @underwaterninja13, @watchyourbuck, @cal-daisies-and-briars and literally anyone else who wants to do this because I’m tired and tagging is hard 🩵

#writing game tag

[brynnmclean]

y'all, I feel like I've said this a lot, it is truly a joy to be a GM, but I am so fucking ready to get out of the chair and be a player again

#the goalpost keeps moving #i think i have 10 more sessions in me max #those sessions will be PACKED. have to have a mini boss fight. the breaking of a curse. the boss fight. some kind of arc resolution #that will be player driven! whatever they want to do with relations between two groups before they go north! #and THEN the long awaited audience with gil galad to hopefully broker some kind of alliance between them and tar miriel. #winter will arrive and it will see them either at sea or in lindon. hoping for lindon but they could fuck up negotiations for sure. #the problem with my notes tbh is that there is a lot of stuff in my brain but not a lot on paper #anyway. christ. what is it like just showing up to a d&d session with a character sheet and a notebook. #AKB will be 3 years old in january #i think i'm still in the hot seat until april #i love this campaign. i do i really do. but hoooooo boy. i want a real break. #this last hiatus doesn't feel like it counted because it was schedule driven and i still have to keep things spinning in my mental space. #not to mention no one GMed anything in the meantime #there was some poll recently that was about being a player for a long form campaign like what type of characters have you played #and one-shots and campaigns that fizzled out <3 sessions in don't count #i looked at that poll and was like well damn. i haven't been a player in a long form campaign since probably... 2016. GURPs 4e. #wait that's not true-- the 5e/Star Wars Saga ed hybrid campaign that was a mixed bag. scoundrel ship mechanic zabrak life. #ha! checked my notes! that ended in july 2022 #i feel like that one barely counts though because my PC was wrangling the group to keep us on task (frustrating. i am a plot hound player) #these tags are out of hand #i'm just tired and struggling with stat blocks nbd #to be deleted i guess #do i need a loremaster tag?

[sinning-23]

Calling Them By Their Full Name

OPLA Headcannons! I thought htis was a funny little thing lol. Anyway enjoy

Warnings: slight mentions of nsfw topics but nothing too serious

Sorry for any spelling errors!

Luffy

-ohhhhh that did not sound like your usual happy, loving voice.

-he knows he fucked up and now he’s hiding from your wrath.

-“MONKEY D. LUFFY, GET YOUR ASS IN THIS KITCHEN. NOW.”

-you could hear a pen drop from how quiet the ship got

-ok so maybe he ate that super expensive, super special dessert you had been saving for a while now. And like, it was going to go bad! All he wanted was a little taste! Than a taste turned into accidentally eating the whole thing.

-He was gonna tell you, honest! But it had proven obvious you found out before he could. He seen you round the corner with RAGe on your face and tears in your eyes.

-"TRAITOR!" You yell, throwing a tired punch to his chest.

-“I’m sorry mami, I’ll find you another one. Promise.” He hums, peppering your face with kisses, squeezing your face between his palms when he did.

-There’s no way you could stay mad at him for long

Zoro

-whoa whoa whoa why are you so ANNNGRY

-hated when you call him by his full name like that, makes him feel like a child being reprimanded

-“RORONOA GODDAMN ZORO.” You boom, Nami’s jaw dropping at the sound. Even she could tell you were pissed

-he’s the sassiest mf alive so he’ll probably just be like, “who the hell are talking to woman?!”

-“You’re a real piece of work you know that??” You’re still yelling and he wastes no time rolling his eyes at you and grabbing you by your waist, the action shutting you up.

“Wanna stop yelling and be a big girl and tell me what’s wrong?” He teases, that stupid smirk you love falling over his features at your speechlessness.

-It’s not often you say his full make but when you do he makes sure you’ll never forget it that same night.

-“Say my name baby, real loud.” He groans, a hand around your throat to steady spent body as he slams back into you

Sanji

-I know thats not a cigarette i smell Vinsmoke Sanji."

-awe hell. Yout tone is deadly. he tried he damndest to stomp it out before you rounded the corner but nope.

-You never use his full name like that. Never.

-did he just get chills?

-"Of course not my love!" He lies throigh his teeth but before he can say anything ese you re lips are on his, you fist gripping the fabric of his shirt.

-He knew he was caught, the taste of tobacco mixing with your usual mint. You pull away, smoothing his shirt out with a warning smile.

-"Don’t lie to me again, I’ll always know when you do, Black Leg." You explain , taking the small cardboard box from his pocket and walking off.

-Even though it was ment as a threat, he couldn't help but feel hotter than ususal. God he loved it when you talked all serious to him.

Bonus: Mihawk

-You know better than to use his full name. Orr to even call him anything besides the usual endearing pet name.

-So when he hears his name called with nothing short of rage, hes trying to figure out who you think you’re talking to.

-"Dracule. Mihawk." You spit, holding the empty bottle in your hand

-Ok so your rage was warented cause he managed to drink the entire vintage bottle of wine you'd been saving...it wasn’t like it was on purpose!

-He doesn’t even bother to look up from his book, just barely giving you a slight glance when you were right in front of him, pointing to the bottle.

-"Id watch your tone darling." he warns, smirking at the way you purse your lips and turn away with a fierce attitude he'd be sure to deal with later.

-“Oh shove it up your ass Dracule.” You scoff, trying to quicken your pace but failing when he’s already behind you, his much larger hand holding your wrist as you yelp.

-His look says it all. You’re screwed.

-So now you’re sitting pretty, bent over and counting each time his hand meets the sore and slightly reddened flesh of your ass.

-“Now, what’s my name again darling?”

#x reader #i don't care he's hot #one piece #one piece live action #headcannons #hes so hot #sanji opla #opla zoro #luffy opla #opla mihawk #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #mihawk x reader #luffy x reader #opla x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader

[httpsclarye]

#GOOD LOKING+!

Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.

Ao3: Good Looking

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!

You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.

Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.

Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.

“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.

Barechested. Topless. Half naked.

“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”

You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.

“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”

"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.

“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”

“I could not sleep”

“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”

“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”

You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.

You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?

“Are you and Luffy close then?”

The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.

“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”

“I remember that. You were so naive”

Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…

“Not anymore.”

He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.

“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.

You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.

He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.

“What dear? See something you lik-”

You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.

“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”

He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.

You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.

His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.

“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”

You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.

”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”

He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.

You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.

You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.

“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”

You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.

His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.

"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”

You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.

“My love, you are so perfec-“

A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.

 “I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.

He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.

You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.

“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.

He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.

Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?

You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.

“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”

It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.

“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”

You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.

He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.

He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.

He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.

"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”

You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.

“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“

He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.

In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.

He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.

You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.

“Sanji, p-please more”

"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.

It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.

"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”

The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.

“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”

It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.

Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.

He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”

Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.

“Do you think anyone heard?”

“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”

“Next time, huh?

Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.

"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”

"And you should go shirtless more often too.”

"Only for you, my love.”

You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.

© HTTPSCLARYE, 2023

#vinsmoke sanji x reader #i tried #one piece #english is not my first language #anyways sanji is hot #op #one piece scenario #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #taz skylar #sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #smut #sanji smut #opla #opla smut #sanji one piece #my works

[roosterforme]

In the Line of Duty | Rooster x Reader

Summary: During preparations for a dangerous mission, Bradley finds comfort in writing his thoughts down for his unborn child to eventually read. There's always a chance that he won't make it back, and his final plans involve safeguarding the most important item he brought on his deployment with him.

Warnings: Angst, deployment, pregnancy topics

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley was in the same tiny room with the same seven people for the nineteenth day in a row. He was sweating, too aware of his surroundings. He could hear Reuben breathing next to him. He could hear Admiral Turner's wristwatch counting off every second. He could hear the plans being laid out, but he could barely focus on them.

"The political climate is rapidly changing," the admiral said. "This bombing run is essential, however it will undoubtedly lead to a hostile environment for our allies. Getting the timing just right is essential to a successful mission."

He'd been telling the aviators the same things for days, and while Bradley knew somebody's best interest was at heart, he wasn't really sure it was his. Or Reuben's. Or anybody's in this fucking claustrophobic room. But what choice did he have but to sit here in his flight suit, reeking of jet fuel until he was released?

"Also," Admiral Turner said, his voice laced with exhaustion, "we'll be keeping a close watch on the weather. If you fly this mission, it's going to be a rough takeoff and an even rougher landing. And that's not even mentioning the elements you'll encounter in the air."

Bradley could feel it. The aircraft carrier was a massive vessel, nothing like a cruise ship or anything smaller. It was built to withstand typhoons and hurricanes, but he could still feel it. The movement was getting worse by the hour now. There were deckhands and petty officers walking around with seasickness bags. People were running from the mess hall left and right. The only thing that could be said of this small group of aviators in this tiny ass room was that professional fighter pilots had all traces of motion sickness eliminated from their bodies during flight training, never to be heard from again. He wasn't uncomfortable, but he could still feel it.

"And with that final precaution, I've made my selection for the three pilots who will fly when I say it's time to go." Bradley knew it in his bones even before he heard the admiral say, "Vandal. Patches. Rooster. Everyone else will remain on standby. You're all dismissed."

As he stood, Reuben stuck his fist out. "Congrats, man," he said, and Bradley reached out as well to bump fists. Being chosen was an accomplishment; Bradley always wanted to be chosen. He always wanted to perform to the best of his ability. But his thoughts were so heavy now, filled with new hopes and fears. 

"Thanks, Payback," he replied, following his friend from the room and into the noisy reprieve of the cool hallway. There were people rushing around as the two of them made their way to the mess hall. "But if I have to sit in that room for another day, I'm going to lose my mind."

Reuben laughed as he started to load a tray with food. "I love how the weather is too bad for us to do any training runs, but in the same sentence, we're told to be ready to fly a mission in this. It's like they're steering us right into the worst of the storm."

They were. Bradley could tell they were. There was something strategic about the open water location, but they were absolutely heading into the worst of it. He just hoped it would clear up before he was called out on deck to fly. 

"It's a good thing I haven't barfed in a Super Hornet since that very first time," he said, also piling food that he knew would taste like cardboard onto a plate.

"This shit sucks," Reuben muttered, biting into a roll once they reached an empty table. "We got any more of your wife's cookies back in the bunk?"

Bradley smiled as he looked at the questionable meal in front of him. "A few." He bit into the steak and grimaced. Everything you cooked at home was better than this. He'd trade his whole plate of food right now for half of a grilled cheese sandwich made by your hands. Just thinking about it had his stomach growling louder. "You already ate most of them."

Reuben popped another roll into his mouth and chewed it up before saying, "Rooster, you've got a hot lieutenant commander who can cook for a wife. And a baby on the way. Come on, man. The least you can do is spare some more of those cookies."

Once he let his thoughts drift, Bradley knew it would take hours to get focused on his job again, but he couldn't help it. When he left home, you looked the same as you always did. You'd been complaining about your weight gain and bloating for weeks, but you looked just perfect to him. He wanted to get back home to see if you had a bump yet. He wanted to get home and talk to the Nugget. But he'd already been gone for three weeks, and he hadn't been given a single chance to call or FaceTime with you. 

He hated having no idea how your most recent doctor's appointment went. There were probably new ultrasound photos sitting right on the kitchen counter, but it could be weeks before he got to see how much the Nugget grew since last time. He should be a home, catering to your every whim and building the massive jungle gym for the backyard.

"Are you excited?" Reuben asked, breaking through his thoughts. "You've got what, like five more months to go before you're a dad?"

"One hundred and eighty-six days until the due date," Bradley replied with a grin. "And yeah, I'm pretty fucking excited. It's all I can think about." He tried to finish all of the food, but he set his plate aside and said, "Let's go eat some of those cookies."

An hour later, Bradley was sitting in his bunk, nibbling on the rationed baked goods while Reuben snored across the room. He took this opportunity to get out the pink and blue striped notebook which he affectionately referred to as the Nugget notebook. He'd filled half of it with his musings, and he figured it would be full by your due date. It was silly, just his random thoughts and some sporadic story telling, but he liked the idea of his kid having all of this to look at later. He uncapped his pen, jotted down the date, and started writing what was on his mind. 

You'll never guess where I am right now. No really. It would be impossible, because even I don't really know where I am! But it's somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, I know that for sure. And while I'm really, really far away from you and your mom right now, the two of you are all I can think about....

-------------------------

The weather was so bad a few days later that the gym was closed. Bradley and Reuben stood in front of the locked door in their gym clothes looking at each other. 

"This is fucking wild," Bradley muttered, deprived of the only activity he could think of to keep himself busy. The hallways were pretty empty at this time of night, but everything still felt more deserted than usual. The dining menus had been pared down, presumably because half of the kitchen staff was too seasick to make everything. He was starting to feel anxious. "Let's go workout in the bunk and then finish the cookies."

"Sounds good," Reuben replied. They took turns churning out sets of fifty push ups while the other ate a cookie. They did this until they were both sweating and all of the cookies were officially gone.

"Now what the fuck are we supposed to do?" Bradley asked, but any response was cut off by a knocking on the door. He jumped up, glanced at Reuben, and then opened the door for a petty officer. 

"Bradshaw?"

"Yeah?"

"You requested a FaceTime call? Report to the lounge in thirty minutes."

"Thanks," he said, heart beating wildly as he closed the door. He rushed around the room, grinning and grabbing everything he'd need to take a quick shower.

Reuben just laughed and said, "Please thank her again for the cookies."

"Will do," Bradley replied, making a mad dash for the showers. If he did the math correctly, he figured it was between four and five o'clock in the morning back home in San Diego. He hated calling you in the middle of the night, especially when you were pregnant and exhausted, but he knew you'd forgive him. And he desperately needed to see your face and hear your voice.

His hair was still damp when he jogged along the quiet corridors toward the lounge and took a seat in front of one of the computers. He quickly entered his credentials followed by your phone number, and then he waited and waited. "Shit," he muttered, gripping the edge of the table, afraid the call was going to ring through and then cut off. But then he heard you screech his name and saw you as you reached for your glasses while the light from the lamp on your nightstand illuminated your face. 

"Bradley!" you practically screamed again, your voice scratchy from sleep. "Roo! Are you okay?"

"Hey, Baby Girl," he said, feeling calmer than he had in weeks as you juggled your phone around and tried to sit up fully in bed. "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."

"No, no, no, this is perfect!" you insisted, rubbing your eye behind your glasses as you tried to stifle a yawn. "This is great."

Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."

"Me too," you insisted, and he could see the sincerity on your face. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are."

He wanted to kiss you. He wished he could somehow dive through the screen and end up next to you where you'd pull him right into your arms. His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."

Your smile was soft, and you bit your lip. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his rough hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"

You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."

The fact that he knew that's where they would be made him smile. When you propped your phone up next to the stove and turned on the light, he felt tears stinging his eyes. You held up one of the photos so he could see the baby, and he had to blink past his blurry vision. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."

Your laughter sounded beautiful as you showed him a third one. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."

"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."

You pulled the baby picture away, and he could see your face again as you said, "You're probably not even joking."

"I'm definitely not even joking."

You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you said, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."

Now Bradley felt like crying for a totally different reason. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."

"Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."

Bradley looked at your beautiful face and the perfect curve of your cheek. He imagined a little baby in your arms with the same flawless features. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."

Your smile was brilliant as you told him, "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."

Bradley opened his mouth to say he couldn't wait to come home and spend a full day curled up with both of you. He was about to ask you to pull his UVA shirt up and let him see what your belly looked like now. But the lounge door swung open so hard, it sounded like it was going to fall off the hinges.

"Bradshaw!" barked Admiral Turner. "It's time. Get into your flight suit."

"Yes, Sir," he said before glancing back down to see your face as you started to cry.

"You have to go," you sobbed.

"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."

"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."

"I'll be home soon," he promised, even though he knew he couldn't guarantee anything of the sort. "I love you."

After he ended the call, he ran back to the bunk where Reuben was already in his flight suit and pulling on his boots. It was late enough now that it had to be dark outside, so he was either about to fly another mission without the use of one of his senses, or they were sending him out at first light. Either way, he knew what he had to do, so he pulled his own flight suit on with shaky hands.

The call with you had calmed his nerves right up until the point when he had to abruptly end it. What he wouldn't give to be back home within a week. He'd drive you to the appointment in his Bronco and hold your hand the whole time. Dr. Morris would let you know if he was going to be the dad to a daughter or a son. His little Nugget.

"You ready?" Reuben asked as Bradley finished lacing up his boots. 

He looked up at his friend as he stood. "Actually, no," he said, pulling his duffle out from under his bed. He started rooting through it as he said, "I need you to potentially do me a favor."

"Sure," Reuben replied, "but we gotta get to the meeting room now, Rooster."

"I know," he mumbled in response as his hands connected with the most important thing he had with him. He held up the pink and blue notebook, his voice calm in spite of his nerves as he said, "Just real quick, you see this? I need you to take this back to my wife if anything happens to me."

His friend was silent for a beat before he said, "Alright. I can do that."

Bradley's fingers tightened around the spiral binding holding together all of his thoughts about fatherhood and how much he loved his unborn child. And now his voice shook a bit as he said, "This is very important to me."

Reuben nodded and said, "Understood. I promise I'll take care of it if the need arises."

"Thank you." Bradley kissed the striped cover and propped the notebook up against his pillow, giving it one last look before he followed Reuben from the bunk.

At first light, Bradley made his way out onto the carrier deck through the rain and whistling wind. The mission was on. The weather was miserable, but the plethora of Naval officers deemed this the best opportunity they were going to get to help their allies. 

It was time. Time for Bradley to trust himself. And if he failed, he trusted Reuben to take the notebook back to San Diego and get it into the hands of his wife. Then you'd take care of the notebook for the Nugget. Because if there was one person who was never going to let him down, it was you.

-------------------------

I can't deal with how much I've been hurting my own feelings with these two. Should we start a new series? Would that be okay? A tragic, new series? Thank you for reading about and loving them! Please stay tuned. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #in the line of duty

[sanjifucker42069]

Buzz Buzz - Sanji x Reader NSFW

Girl........I am down bad.

Word Count: 7,200 words!?!? Girl what the fuck.... This is self-indulgent af.

Sanji finds something of yours that you really would've preferred to keep private. But maybe it wasn't all bad?

Warnings; NSFW MDNI. cis!fem reader, sorry 'bout that, Both Sanji and reader are incredibly awkward, self-conscious, and like one-upping each other, plus size!reader, vibrators, no p in v soz lol. 100% this was written with pre-timeskip anime Sanji in mind, love that cringefail malewife energy. Surprisingly switches all round...also yes I know those with dicks have a refractory period...I just don't care lol

--------------

You had barely made it inside the women’s room when you caught the ship’s cook. He was crouched, holding something small and looking befuddled. What was that? Wait! No, how did he find that!?

"Sanji! Put that down!" You screamed, face on fire.

Sanji shot to his feet, looking terrified at the prospect of being caught, and yet, he still periodically eyed the implement in his hand, making no move to abandon it.

"What is it?" The question sounded innocent, but you knew the flirt was just trying to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately you're only human, and Sanji always seemed to bring out the worst of it.

"You know EXACTLY what that is!" You hissed, trying to lunge for it. Sanji side stepped you with ease. With fire in your eyes, you quickly captured his wrist, backing him against the wall. Sanji blinked at you blankly. His questioning look stopping you in your tracks. "You...you don't know what that is, do you?"

You wanted to faint when Sanji shook his head. What the hell did he mean? You were sure if any of the men on board knew what that was, it would be the perverted cook. With a blush you stared him down.

"It's a massager."

"Oh my dear, you should come to me, I'd gladly rub your stress away."

You honest to gods squealed at that. Recovering, you caged the man in between you and the wall, fist resting next to his head. Your eyes burning as you sized him up. "Are you fucking with me Black Leg?"

"No, I would gladly give you a massage! My hands may be for cooking, but for you my dear, I'll make an exception. Maybe I could use it some time?"

If your face got any redder you would faint. Spitting out a growl, you regarded the man with a sneer. How dare that asshole make fun of you? "You fucking pervert."

Sanji jumped, clearly offended. "How?! I was only offering a shoulder massage. I don't have any ulterior motives, chef's honour."

"It's a personal massager, Sanji." You gritted out. The blonde stared down at you, confusion evident. Gods he was so stupid sometimes! A growl ripped from your throat. "It's a vibrator. A sex toy. I use it to cum."

The velvety soft bullet clattered to the ground. Darting your eyes up, you took in the frozen man. Sanji was growing redder at a rapid pace. He squeaked out something unintelligible. You watched the blush spread down his neck, blooming beautifully. Huh, he really didn't know what it was.

"Oh." He managed. "You...uh...a toy?"

"I have needs Sanji." You deadpanned, pulling away. You didn't miss how he sighed in relief at your retreating form. Man, fuck him! It's not like you left it out in the open for anyone to find it!

"And you...you use it?"

"Well duh...it's not for decoration." You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling uncomfortable at the way he looked at you incredulously. "Look now that we've got that explained, can you piss off and let me wallow in my embarrassment?"

Sanji didn't budge, still looking at you with that odd look on his face, like he didn't quite understand. It caused anger to burn brighter in your chest. You snatched the vibrator off the floor, causing Sanji's eyes to widen. With a huff you stomped to your bed, flopping face down onto it. 

"Miss (Name)?" Sanji asked quietly. You ignored him, trying to suffocate yourself with your pillow. This was humiliating. Why the hell did you have to like Sanji of all people? "Look, (Name), I was just surprised is all-"

You snapped at him from your hiding spot. "We don't all chase the first pretty thing we see to get relief Sanji! Some of us have to take care of our own business."

"Wh-what?" 

All you were doing was digging yourself a deeper hole, but you didn't care. "I saw how disgusted you looked. I didn't ask you to find it. You can go tell the crew how pathetic I am! Oh, (name) can't get anyone to look at her like that, how sad. Poor thing, having to rely on something like a toy. Hahaha! Never mind there's never any stupid privacy on this stupid ship. A-and I can have the urge too! So don't look at me like that! I haven't had sex since I got on this godforsaken ship, so excuse me for getting something to help."

You were purely catastrophising, clear that anxiety had gotten the best of you. Sanji would never be that cruel. You weren't sure when, but judging on how damp your pillow was, you had been crying for some time. Well that's embarrassing. Sanji was the last person you wanted to cry in front of.

The bed creaked from extra weight, causing you to wince. You tried desperately to make yourself smaller, to shy away from the man. Instead you felt his large hand pat the small of your back. You jumped in surprise, causing the hand to falter. It began rubbing small soothing circles, You sighed. 

"Why aren't you leaving? I asked you to piss off."

There was a pause. Then you heard Sanji speak. It was faint, unsure of what to do. 

"And leave a lady to cry alone? I don't think so." You scoffed. "If it makes you feel better-"

"Look I'm sorry for crying-"

"I think it's hot."

You stiffened. Sanji felt you go rigid beneath his touch. The silence grew suffocating, You whipped your head to meet his gaze, eyes wide.

"Fucking excuse me?"

Sanji looked embarrassed, ducking to avoid your questioning eyes. The hand on your back spasmed. "I didn't think it was pathetic...thought it was hot...And I don't think it's true that no one shows you interest-"

That drew a callous laugh from you. "Oh please. You and I both know I'm not drop dead gorgeous like Nami or Robin. You've seen the attention I get from men. You don't look like me and not see the way men avoid you like the plague."

The hand on your back tightened into a fist. grabbing the back of your top. You tried to twist to lie on your back but the hand held you in place. Sanji's voice was dark, an unspoken threat dangling in the air. "Excuse me?"

"C'mon Ji, it's cute you're trying to cheer me up but look at me! You think I'm the kinda girl that has men lining up out the door to fuck? I know how I look, it's why I got this back in Loguetown. Don't need to scare anyone off this way." You waggled the vibrator, laughing.

Sanji clearly did not like the way you were talking about yourself, if the way he quickly flipped you onto your back was any indication. You squealed in alarm, feeling the hard mattress dig into your back. He hovered over you, caging you under him, his legs on either side of your plush thighs. You gulped.

"Are you serious?" He snarled. You stared up at him, his eyes were burning with anger, lips drawn into a frown. You protested weakly.

"Sanji, c'mon man. I know its your whole philosophy that every woman is beautiful, and all that, but let's be real here-"

"Yeah?" He breathed out, daring you to continue. You raised an eyebrow at him.

"You don't have to act like I'm attractive Sanji. When we were in Alabasta you literally tried to cover me up with your jacket after I wore that stupid dancer costume."

The man above you blanched. "Oh (name), you thought I-"

"Was disgusted? Yeah? I don't blame you, it couldn't have been a pretty sight."

"Will you stop that!?" He growled. You froze.

"Wait, you're actually mad?"

Sanji scoffed. "Mad? I'm furious. Who the hell told you you aren't breathtaking?"

"Wh-what? I'm not! I don't need explicit words to see that people don't see me that way. Whenever we go out, it's always men fawning over Nami and Robin, and rightfully so, they're hot. If we need to distract someone? It's always Nami being sexy. You do it too. Nami shows a little skin? You're wagging your tongue like a stray dog. I show a bit of skin? You look like you're in physical pain. What about that day on the deck when we were sunbathing? Nami and Robin had hyped me up to try a bikini. I'd never worn one before. When you saw me in a swimsuit, you couldn't get out of there fast enough, like the mere sight of me hurt you. Haven't worn one since."

"I was in pain." Sanji spat. "I was fucking hard."

What?

You gasped. "What?"  

Sanji's face was a dark red, his ears burning, but he held your gaze, looking furious. If looks could kill you'd be nothing but ash under him. "I was fucking hard." He repeated. "I had no idea you were going to be there half-naked. Had to get out of there quick before anyone saw."

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sanji wasn't done.

"And in Alabasta? I tried covering you because I realised it was a mistake. That I wanted to be the only one to see you like that. And I wasn't lying when I said you having a vibrator was hot! I was in shock at the thought of you using it. I don't think it's pathetic. I think me having to fucking jack off in the bathroom because you bent over in front of me, or made those noises enjoying my food, or I watched you kick some guy's ass, is pathetic. Why can't you understand that you're sexy?"

Sanji took in you under him, chubby cheeks a bright red. Your eyes were wet with unshed tears. His eyes softened. "I'm sorry I ever made you think you weren't gorgeous."

"But..." You started, clearly flustered. "Nami and Robin?"

"Are beautiful, yes. But they aren't you."

"But...you really think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty? Darling I think you're so fucking hot you've made me cum in my pants like a boy more than once."

"Really?!" Your eyes were sparkling. That was a welcome change, Sanji mused. He would gladly embarrass himself tenfold, if it meant you'd see yourself how he saw you. 

"Yeah. Once was not long after we met. You wanted a sparring partner. I thought you were gonna go easy on me, and I wasn't gonna fight back. You were vicious. It was hot." He tried to shrug in his current position. "If you remember you got me in a headlock between your thighs."

"I thought you slunk away because you were upset I hurt you? You made that whimpering noise and looked in pain."

"I do not whimper!" He protested weakly. "I 'slunk away' because I came."

"Oh."

"So I can assure you, I'm a pervert for you too, especially you."

"I think of you when I masturbate!" You blurted out.

It happened quickly. Sanji's eyes grew wide, his breath hitched. You watched as his forearms shook. 

Then he lost his balance. 

You'd love to say he fell head first into your tits, moaning in pure bliss. But that only happens in romance books.

No. He headbutted you by accident, flopping directly on top of you like a dead fish. The two of you hissed in pain. Your head throbbed. Motherfucker. For a scrawny bastard he sure was heavy, clearly all muscle, you mused. All muscle, including the very firm one that was poking you in the hip.

"Are you fucking hard?" You hissed. Sanji propped himself up with one hand by your side, the other rubbing his forehead. 

"Of course I'm hard." He hissed back. "You just told me you masturbate to me. I'm assuming you're using that stupid toy."

"It's not stupid!" You defended. "It can pack quite a punch."

"You could have used me, darling?" He offered halfheartedly, masking his nerves with a fake smile.

You shot him a wry grin back. "Oh that was smooth. Unless you can magically vibrate-"

"I could do better."

"You could let me use it on you."  Hmph. Cheeky. Sanji felt faint at the implications. His cock twitched against you. You widen your eyes at him in interest. "Oh? Would you like to try it? 

"I'd rather try you, thank you."

You laughed honestly. Sanji felt the air knocked out of him when you caged him in with your legs, ankles crossing to dig in his back. He shuddered as you dragged him deeper against you, a dangerous look in your eyes. Sanji loved you, honestly. But sometimes he wanted nothing more than to make you feel as nervous as he did. Mustering all his charm he winked at you.

"So you masturbate to the thought of me?"

Oh that did it. Red bloomed deliciously from your cheeks, your ears, down to where your neckline began. Sanji felt his cock twitch eagerly, pride filling him. You diverted your gaze in embarrassment, puffing out your cheeks. Cute. 

"And if I do?"

"That's cute." He grinned, You scowled up at him. He felt your thighs tighten around him. "Oh, I affect you that much, hm?"

Sanji couldn't help the involuntary squawk that escaped when you flipped the two of you with your hips, taking advantage of your lower centre of gravity. Your weight sat deliciously on top of him, allowing him to effectively crush his cock against your clothed mound. He groaned as you adjusted your position, making yourself comfortable. 

"What was that, cook?" You panted out, trying to minimise how riled up you were. With pure purpose, you leant forward, caging his head between your arms. "Because from where I am you look pretty affected." 

The man below you gulped as you leant forward, moving to rest on your elbows, bringing your face closer. The blush on your cheeks showed no sign of calming down, the only telltale sign Sanji could find that you were embarrassed. Your voice dropped. "If you must know, it's a common occurrence. You drive me wild you silly man. Can I kiss you?"

Sanji laughed, dragging your face down to meet him. He kissed you passionately, hands cradling your face firmly. You smiled into the kiss, sucking gently at his lower lip. With a groan, Sanji reciprocated and then some. The impromptu makeout session halted when you propped yourself up to breathe. You stared down at him with stars in your eyes. 

"Wow." You breathed.

"Yeah." Sanji panted.

Silence. The two of you basking in each other. 

"Would you let me play with you, Sanji?"

You were rewarded with a moan as he nodded, eyes scrunched shut. Eagerly you sat back on his hips. Exploratively, you ran your hands down his chest, rubbing your way back up. Sanji shivered as you began unbuttoning his shirt, fingers clumsy with want. When you got the last button done you couldn't help yourself, feeling all over his chest, as if you were mapping it to memory. Sanji hissed as your nails lightly scratched over his nipples, hips lightly bucking up into you. You hummed appreciatively. 

"Can you stop teasing me, love?" Sanji bit out.  You laughed. 

With no pomp or circumstance, you divest yourself of your shirt, tossing it somewhere behind you.  Sanji whined, reaching up for you. You avoided his hand, crushing your bra-clad chest back to his. You were rewarded with a stuttered sigh.

Sanji felt himself freeze when you licked a stripe up his neck. You were savouring him, stopping to nibble his ear lobe. You had one arm stretched far past his head, the other braced on his shoulder. Sanji bucked his hips at a particularly harsh bite. He could feel you grin against his skin. If Sanji was honest, he felt faint as you kissed back down his neck, stopping when you found his pulse point. Sanji bit back a moan as you sucked harshly, bringing your outstretched hand back to cup his pec. Small whines being the only thing to reward you. 

"S-stop teasing, love." He was more flustered now. Perfect. 

Bzzzz

Sanji froze, eyes wide. He breathed out a small "What the fuck?" watching with bated breath as you pulled yourself back up, a wicked grin on your features. A jolt of electricity shot through him as he felt a vibration against his neck. 

You eyed him hungrily, slowly dragging the vibrator down his neck. The man beneath you was panting, eyes scrunched tight as you dragged the vibrator down to his chest. You circled a nipple with the vibrating tip, causing Sanji to jump. You bit back a moan. 

"Look at me Sanji." You purred. A wave of arousal washed over you as he peered up at you with wide eyes. You languidly toyed with the vibrator, tickling your way down his stomach, the man beneath you squirming. "This okay?"

"Yeah." A whisper. You grinned. 

"Good boy. Balance this for me, okay?" 

The vibrator on his abdomen buzzed idly as you shuffled back. With a wicked glint in your eyes you trailed your hand downwards. Sanji accidentally bucked his hips when your fingers found his belt, making quick work of undoing the buckle. You paused, the man beneath you trying desperately to still. When you deemed him still enough you moved to opening his trousers, fighting your way through a button. You'd never really noticed that Sanji wore his pants higher up on his hips. It made sense, you realised, from a fighting point of view. Huh, you'd have to tag that away for future reference.

"I didn't expect you to have such a sexy happy trail. Gods, so coarse." You moaned, feeling your way down through his hair, You let your fingers lightly touch under his pants. Sanji squirmed. You cooed.

"What a good boy, I'll be taking this back, thank you." You purposefully tickled him as you took back the vibrator, staring at him through lidded eyes. Sanji felt himself freeze, knowing full well what you were planning to do.

Sanji felt an undignified groan escape him as he felt you press the vibrator to his clothed groin with featherlight pressure. You were killing him! 

"Please do something (Name), you are driving me insane."

"Oh? More like this?" You feigned innocence, cupping both the vibrator and his bulge with one hand, and cranking the vibrator up with the other. You watched with perverse satisfaction as the man clenched his fists into your bedsheets. Good. With one hand you slipped the zipper down painfully slow. You made a show of sticking your hand through the opening and began palpating his clothed cock, making sure to squeeze every now and then. 

The man below you began panting, trying to talk but instead babbling something incoherent. You laughed.

With the now intensified vibrator, you slipped it between his parted thighs, placing it directly at the apex. Sanji squealed at that, scrambling to move away.

"Too much?" You cooed, though a genuine questioning tone laid underneath. Looking up to survey his expression, you found him biting onto his hand to muffle his noises. He shook his head.

"Just unfamiliar." He willed his eyes open and tried to fix you with a glare. It failed miserably, and the man instead looked like he was going to cry. 

Would it be so bad to make him cry?

You hummed as a way to acknowledge you saw him. Sanji managed to choke out a strangled, "You're not putting that in my ass."

The laugh that ripped from you was raucous and joyful. You playfully swatted his knee. 

"I wasn't going to go anywhere near your ass!" You managed out through giggles. Sanji blushed. "Geez, getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

"Just hurry up and touch me." Sanji muttered. You giggled, withdrawing your hand. The man below you whined at the loss. 

"Relax! Right now, I really just wanna blow you. That okay?" 

"Y-yeah! Fuck, I mean, if you want to?"

"Really wanna. Can I put this against your balls? It'll feel good, promise?"

Sanji shuddered beneath you, the vulgarity of your words hitting him. You were looking at him with hopeful eyes, a far cry from what you were saying. He supposed he could always say no if he hated it. He nodded slowly. 

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

You squealed happily, hands flying up to try pulling down his pants. When they refused to budge you swatted at his thigh. Sanji let out a little yip, lifting his hips. You grinned wolfishly, tugging at the garment till it reached his mid thigh. You lightly trailed your hands up his thighs, tickling his inner thighs with your light touch. Sanji squirmed. 

When your eyes met his pelvis you whistled lowly. "Now isn't that something? Definitely more than a mouthful. Didn't take you for a briefs kinda guy, to be honest."

Sanji clearly didn't like the tone he perceived from that. He snapped at you, face red. "They are boxer briefs, thank you! They offer the best support. Why am I even explaining this to you anyway? I shouldn't have to justify my underWEAR-"

Sanji's voice pitched high as you cupped him. You rubbed small circles, grinding your palm against him. "Relax! It makes sense, you don't want a ball popping out when you're doing those high kicks. Thought you'd be thankful I pointed out that and not the giant wet patch."

"Would you be quiet? I can feel myself going soft." Sanji whined. You laughed.

"That's not what I'm feeling sweetheart." As if on cue you felt his cock jump at the pet name. You grinned, swallowing the extra saliva that filled your mouth. "As fun as this panty chat is, I'd really like to unwrap my present now."

Sanji stared at you through lidded eyes as your thumbs hooked under his waistband, pulling lightly. He hissed at the feeling. With no real ceremony, you began peeling the fabric away from him. Eyes sparkling as his cock came into view. The head was red and angry, a clear representation at how frustrated he must feel. His cock was lithe, curved, and definitely long. You found that a fitting comparison to its owner.

"Fuck." You whispered. "I'm sorry sweetheart, you're gonna have to tell me if it's too much, ‘kay? I gotta suck you off."

Sanji barely got to respond before you were on him, hands squeezing him. Whatever he was going to say got cut off by a guttural moan. You pumped him a few times, coating his cock in his pre-cum. If Sanji was wriggly before, he was practically fucking your fist. You braced one hand on his hip. 

"Bon Appetit." 

You engulfed him, taking as much as you could into your mouth. A moan tore its way out of you as you tasted him. Gods it was so musky, you needed more. You sucked harshly, causing the man below you to squeal and scramble for purchase. You really weren't going easy on him. 

The wet sounds that ensued were sinful, causing the both of you to feel embarrassed. You didn't care too much, needing to suck this man dry. You'd spent way too long thinking about this. You pumped what you couldn't fit in your mouth, laving your tongue on the underside of his cock. Sanji felt dizzy by the sensation, the heat in his groin growing. He couldn't help himself, hips bucking into your mouth. You gagged as he touched the back of your throat.

"Sorry. Sorry baby, feels too good." You hummed around his cock happily, causing Sanji to whine. "Baby, love, I'm not gonna last long, I promise I'm better than this."

You pulled off with a lewd pop, cooking a brow at him. A hoarse voice you didn't recognise as your own regarded him. "Y'perfect. Now calm down and cum in my mouth, can fuck me some other day."

Sanji whimpered as you resumed your ministrations, scrunching his eyes shut. Fuck, the pleasure was too much. He couldn't stop the way he lightly rocked his hips. He was so close. So close.

BZZZZZZZ

Ohoho. There was no way you'd forgotten what he'd agreed to. You firmly held the vibrating bullet against the back of his balls, resting on his perineum. Electricity coiled inside him, balls growing tight. Sanji honestly keened, a high whine escaping him. Oh shit that was...

Fuck. Too Much.

"(Name), I'm, oh fuck-"

Sanji tried to pry you off, embarrassed at the thought of cumming in your mouth. You growled around him, swallowing around him. Sanji moaned, hips delivering a final stutter.

He came. Hot seed spilling into your mouth and down your throat. Sanji's whole body shook. You gently licked at him, milking him through his orgasm. When you deemed the man thoroughly spent, you removed the bullet and pulled him out of your mouth. Sanji looked at you with frantic eyes.

"Spit that out!" He hissed, afraid to be heard. This was embarrassing. He hadn't even touched you yet, and here he was, trying to get you to get rid of his cum. Sanji felt himself grow light headed as he watched you swallow, your throat bobbing with the movement.

"You know we don't waste food Sanji. And how could I turn down such a treat?" You laughed, voice raspy. 

Sanji whined. How dare you use his words against him! He felt awkward. You pulled his underwear back up, patting his hip. 

"Lemme touch you!" He pleaded. You laughed. "No, really. Let me eat you out!"

You flushed beautifully. "Oh. Um. I don't think you want to do that!"

Sanji huffed. "I do! You're not gonna use that stupid toy, sit on my face, please darling." 

You squeaked. "No! I'm not gonna sit on your f-face! And it's not stupid. Made you cum."

Sanji rolled his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks. "That's not hard when you're involved. Please?"

"I'm too heavy and I won't taste nice! N-no!" You scrambled to the other side of your bed while Sanji pulled his pants back up. His eyes softened.

"That's not true. I'm sure I don't taste good." He faltered when you shook your head. He tried to muster up his signature charm. "Oh, you're worried you're too addictive and I'll never leave you alone?" 

That drew a laugh from you. Sanji smiled. "C'mon love? Can I...can I finger you at least? Really wanna touch you."

Your face was glowing red, eyes shifting away from him. "Oh. Um. I suppose that's okay."

Sanji leapt off the bed. "Good! Yes! Get comfy!" He watched as you settled where he'd been, clearly feeling embarrassed. You covered your stomach with your arms. Sanji frowned. "Love... You know that won't do."

"Ah. Sanji c'mon." You pleaded.

"Uh uh. You were so confident before. C'mon lay back. Just relax, I won't bite, unless you want me to?" 

There was that cocky grin you found so endearing. With a sigh, you sunk back into the mattress, letting your hands fall to your side. When you nodded, Sanji took that as his cue. 

Fervently he scrambled onto the bed, pinning you under him. He began peppering kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle. He was acting like an overexcited puppy. You captured his lips in another searing kiss. Sanji rested a hand on your waist, causing you to gasp. Sanji greedily took advantage of this, licking his way into your mouth. You whined. You heard Sanji groan, evident he could still taste himself. 

He pulled back with a pop and you startled at the look he gave you. It was so full of love and warmth, lust evident. He gave you a wink, before he ducked down to start kissing you everywhere. Your non-existent collarbones. He sucked lightly over one of them. You squeaked. He kissed his way down your breasts, free hand groping your smple chest. Sanji grinned against your skin, pleased with the noises he was getting. He trailed both hands to your back, rubbing soothing circles. You sighed as he explored your back.

When you felt his practised fingers make quick work of your bra hooks you gasped, red faced. He pushed them out of the way, lightly clawing at your back. You felt like fainting when your strap started to fall. What if he was disgusted? Sanji felt your breath picking up. 

"Oh my dear! Don't be scared. I'll take good care of you I promise! May I see them? I dream of them! You wouldn't deprive me of such a sight?"

You smiled at how cheesy he was. With a light cough you nodded. You wanted to cry at how gentle he was treating you, hands rubbing both your arms. You began to relax. Sanji grinned, eyes wild, as he pulled the straps down your arms, He gestured to the cups, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed, nodding. He really knew how to ease the tension. Sanji looked awestruck as he pulled your bra away, discarding it off the bed. 

"Wow."

Sanji's eyes were positively sparkling, You watched as he nodded, seemingly at nothing, face dangerously red. With shaking hands he reached up to cup your breasts. He let out a shuddering breath. You felt your weighty breasts being lifted, Sanji supporting them with a blissful smile. He bounced his hands lightly, watching as they jiggled. 

"So hot. Better than I imagined."

"Yeah?" You tried not to sound too hopeful. Sanji grinned, squeezing experimentally. A cute whine ripped its way out of your throat, head lolling to the side. He was so gentle. You felt guilty for teasing him. "I'm sorry for teasing you. You're so cute you make me wanna make you blush."

Sanji stilled. "Oh. I...I don't mind. It's kinda hot. I'll get you back, don’t worry. Right now, wanna make you feel good."

You tried to push down the butterflies when Sanji kissed your tits as his hands reached your shorts. Embarrassment overcoming you, you buried your face in your hands as he popped open a button.

"Love? We can stop if it's too much?"

"No." You whined behind your hands. "Been a long time, and you're so hot. Don't want you to be disappointed. 

"I'm flattered. You know I could never be disappointed (Name)." 

Butterflies multiplied when he spoke your name. You nodded, wincing as he played with your zipper. With a sigh, you peeked through your hands. The breath that left you was airy and shaky. 

"Okay."

Sanji shot you a dazzling grin. "Then hips up my love!" 

You obeyed him, and watched as he dragged your shorts down, not stopping till they hung off one foot. With a shake of your foot the offending article hit the bed. Sanji gasped, cooing at you.

"Ah, your panties have little kittens on them, so cute." 

You froze, face dangerously red. Sanji watched out of the corner of his eyes as you floundered beneath him, stuttering. 

"I didn't know we were gonna...y'know? Wasn't like I wanted anyone to see 'em. It was uh....laundry day?" Your protests fell on deaf ears.

Sanji chuckled, eyes glinting dangerously. "It's cute. So cute. Can think of another pussy I'd like to see."

You swatted at him in embarrassment, he dodged you playfully. 

"I understand why you enjoy teasing me so much. Your face is so cute, love. May I?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Sanji grinned. Stupid cook. The object of your affection studied you, clear he was savouring this. You squirmed. Sanji rested his hands on your plush hips. 

"You're going to have to spread your legs sweetheart." Sanji bit his lip when you squeaked in response. "C'mon. Let me make you feel good."

Sanji watched, utterly enraptured as you shuffled, spreading your thighs apart. Your thighs looked so inviting, all he wanted to do was bury his face in there and lap at you like a man starving. But he'd respect your wishes, there was always next time. Eyes flicking upwards, he took into account how you weren't looking at him, eyes scrunched shut. 

You startled when Sanji crawled between your legs, hands cradling your thighs. The touch tickled and burned, sending electricity buzzing through you straight to your core. Sanji slid a hand up your inner thigh, resting at mid thigh.

"Fuck." You heard him swear, voice full of awe. "You're so wet."

A squeal escaped you and you tried slamming your thighs shut, but Sanji had caught them, staring. You cracked an eye open and gasped, thighs shaking. 

Sanji was practically drooling, biting his bottom lip. "You're SO wet..." He trailed off. You felt a hand gently hook your thigh onto his shoulder. He kissed the skin softly, relishing as you quivered under him. "Fuck. You gotta let me eat you next time."

Next Time. The thought made you lightheaded. You whined. Sanji soothed you, rubbing circles on your thigh. When you pried your eyes open you found the man staring directly in your eyes. You startled. Sanji maintained intense eye contact as you felt his knuckle run up your clothed slit. You muffled a shriek, blush returning tenfold. Sanji smiled, eyes turning back to your pussy. You shook as his fingers danced over you, pushing the fabric against you. When he caressed the area you moaned. 

"As cute as these are, can I please take them off?" Sanji pleaded playfully. 

"Please." You nodded. 

You squirmed as he began pulling your panties down, hands tickling the skin uncovered. 

"Okay baby, knees together." Sanji coached, picking your other leg up to join the one on his shoulder. You mewled at his gentleness, feeling him drag your underwear down. You tried angling your hips away from him, instead giving him a good view of your rear. "What a cute ass." He mused, continuing to trail the fabric to your feet. With nothing but gentleness, he slipped the underwear off you, balling the fabric up. 

You were too busy trying to disappear and hide your nakedness from the man, so you didn't notice how he rubbed it between his fingers before stuffing them in his pockets. He'd make sure you didn't even realise they were missing. He salivated at the thought.

In the meantime you had clamped both hands over your sex. Sanji tutted at you. That wouldn't do. With a sigh he gripped your right leg, beginning to pry them apart. You shrieked, pointing your knees inwards.

"(Name)." Sanji warned. When you didn't respond he swatted lightly at your ass. He grinned when you rewarded him with a squeal, bucking your hips away from his hand and towards him. He'd file that away. Sanji sighed. "Darling please. I'll die if you don't show me that pretty pussy. I'm trying to be gentle, but knowing what's behind those hands, I want to wrench your thighs open." 

Sanji watched you surreptitiously rub your thighs together. He cocked an eyebrow. So you were enjoying this. An over-dramatic sigh escaped him. He'd just have to deal with the consequences. Sure you could fight, but Sanji was stronger than you, and when he wrapped a hand under your thigh, thumb wrapping into the inside near your apex, you knew you were fucked. 

"Darling. You can be a good girl and show me, or I can do it for you." When you continued squirming and stuttering Sanji tsked. "Then I'm sorry (Name). You can get me back later." 

You squealed when he yanked your thighs apart, quickly slotting himself between your legs, rendering you unable to close them fully. If your face got any redder you'd faint, and it was a very likely possibility when you felt his hands circle your wrist. The switch to being more dominant was making your head spin. Sure, you adored submissive Sanji, but the idea that he was acting like this because he wanted to see you that badly ignited you. 

"Sorry my love." He apologised before wrenching your hands back. You tried desperately to slap your thighs shut, squirming in his hold. All this did was rut your sex closer to him. You heard Sanji groan, causing you to go deathly still. 

"F-fuck."

Fighting the tears in your eyes you avoided his eyes. Sanji breathed out a long sigh, the air hitting your sex. You whined. 

"Holy fuck. Gorgeous." 

You stared down at him. Sanji's eyes were glued to your pussy, pupils dilated. Anxious, you fiddled with your fingers. Sanji kept muttering praises, rubbing your thigh reassuringly. 

Shame flooded you when you felt him spread you open with two fingers. A loud squelch rewarded the man, and he clearly enjoyed it. 

"Oh fuck! Love, love, please?"

"Yeah." You breathed out. Sanji grinned up at you before turning his attention back to his prize. With his index and middle finger he parted your labia back open, whining at the wetness that greeted him. He gently prodded you with his thumb, causing you to jump and whine. 

Sanji acted like a man possessed, thumb rubbing circles, gathering up your juices. He ground his thumb against your clit, causing you to moan and squirm against him. He pivoted his hand position so just his thumb was on you, rubbing sweet circles on the nub. Your body was abuzz with pleasure, clit throbbing.

"Here we go, my love. Tell me if you don't like it." His honeyed voice kissed your ears. All you could muster was an eager nod.

Thumb still stimulating your clitoris, you felt his pointer circle your opening. Pleasure overtook you, helping abate some of your nerves. The long digit dipped into you and you squeaked. Sanji took this as a good sign, and he slowly sunk the finger inside you, curling up at the end. When you big out a low moan Sanji knew that was the spot. He rubbed the rough spot gently, causing tears to spring to your eyes. 

Sanji's movements grew clumsy, causing you to stare down at him. The sight that greeted you caused you to choke back a laugh. Sanji growled, crooking his finger and making you whine. 

Sanji was deep in you with one hand, the other was struggling with your vibrator.

"How do you even turn this thing on?" He growled, grinding his thumb a little hard when you giggled. 

"Twist the base. No, no the other way...There you go!"

Sanji withdrew his other hand, causing you to mourn the loss. He grinned up at you. "Here we go darling!"

You blushed as he spread you open again, hearing him sigh in awe. You bit back a moan when he pressed the vibrator against your clit. Sanji grinned at how you shook. With a cheeky smirk, he plunged a finger inside you, pumping in and out at a gentle rhythm. When you began squirming, Sanji took that as a sign to add another finger, making sure to crook them just right.

Sanji took you in. You were panting, moaning freely as he pleasured you. He watched mesmerised at how your chest heaved, your hands playing with your nipples, a hiss tearing from his throat. That was hot. He became more desperate to make you cum. 

The vibrator cranked up in power, causing you to moan wantonly. Sanji crumpled himself against you, hand pumping furiously. The vibrator was firmly dancing against your clit. With his free hand Sanji slapped one of your hands away. You wanted to protest, but then he began sucking harshly at your tit. A whine echoed through the room when he bit down on the skin. 

Your moans pitched up in tone and frequency as you reached your end. Sanji stared up at you, in awe of your reactions. He felt your thighs quiver, a wave of giddiness washing over him. He could do this all day if it meant you'd react like that. He resumed sucking and nibbling at your breasts, his ego inflating at the way you chanted his name. He liked this version of you, too caught up in pleasure to worry about how you looked, or how you sounded. Even if it drove him wild, he really loved when you were confident.

"There we go my love. Let go. So hot."

You had tears in your eyes, your hips rocking in time with his thrusts. "Oh Sanji...you're so good to me. Good boy." Your voice hitched at a particularly hard bite. "Oh! I-I'm gonna cum b-baby."

Sanji whined against your sweaty skin. "Cum for me (name), please love."

Stars burst behind your eyes as you reached your white hot peak. You clenched around his fingers, walls spasming. Sanji marvelled at how you threw your head back, brows knitted together. Your fingers clawed for purchase, one settling in his locks, the other scratching at his neck. Sanji groaned. You uttered a stuttered call of his name. Sanji felt his mouth go dry as you came, wet squelches reaching his ears, and watching as your back arched beautifully.

You fell back into the bed, completely spent. Sanji fumbled with the vibrator, throwing it aside when he couldn't turn it off, simultaneously removing his fingers gently, eyes blown wide at the cum decorating his digits. He couldn't stop himself, trying to sneakily guide his fingers to his mouth. You watched, mesmerised as he began licking the digits clean, humming in delight. A gasp tore its way from your throat. Sanji froze, fingers in his mouth.

"M'sorry." He mumbled around his fingers. "Really wanted to taste you."

"And?" You breathed out, eyes wide and inquisitive.

Sanji sucked them clean, then pulled the fingers from his mouth with a wet pop. You cringed at the lewd sound. "Oh love, it's exquisite."

He climbed his way on top of you, collapsing against your chest with a huff, earning a giggle from you. You placed a kiss into his hair. Sanji snuggled deeper, trying to crush you in a hug. Happily, you felt him shiver as you drew circles on his bare back. The small grunt he made causing a languid grin to spread across your face.

"Was that okay?" The tentative voice you spoke with sounded foreign to you. Sanji laughed, kissing your skin.

"More than okay. Would you let me make love to you when I'm hard again?"

Sanji preened at the delighted sound that rewarded him. "I would love that." You paused. "Hey Sanji?" 

The tired man hummed, feeling you fiddle with his hair with one hand, the other splayed on his back. You were silent. He tilted his head up, peering up at you through heavy lashes. Your eyes were big and nervous.

"I kinda...like you, you know? Like...love you."

You felt the breath knocked from your lungs at the dazzling grin that spread across his face. He pushed himself up, pulling his body upwards so he could meet your eyes. 

"Yeah?" He breathed. You nodded. Sanji captured you in another kiss. "Love you too my sweet." You grinned, causing the man above you to kiss you repeatedly. You pulled back cheekily.

"Even liked the vibrator?" Sanji scowled but nodded faintly. You giggled, dropping your voice low. "You know you can get one that goes around your cock? Stops you from cumming without permission."

A soft whine ripped from Sanji's throat as he stilled, burying his face in your neck. You raised a brow.

"Are you fucking hard again?"

"Sorry darling."

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece smut #lmao.......i am currently sick af so this is what we're doing i guess... #smut #[paris hilton voice] can i have 5 more of these little blonde bitches #you cant tell me this man wouldnt go WILD over a cockring #i didnt realise how many words there were ;-; bro wtf

[fieldofdaisiies]

Oh Those Romance Novels

ship: Azriel x Reader type: drabble warning(s): explicit content, f o r word count: 920 words summary: Azriel decides it would be a fun idea that you read one of your smutty books to him while he…

-all rights reserved -

"And then his tongue circled her—Gods Azriel!"

Your head lolls back, eyes falling shut. Your thighs squeeze his head, but Azriel has none of it. He hums in disapproval, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. Lifting his head, the skin around his mouth coated in your arousal, he clicks his tongue. 

"None of that, baby, keep reading." He groans a little as he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze, wanting you to look at him.

And you do — lifting your head the tiniest bit, opening your eyes and meeting his eyes through a heavy lidded gaze that is clouded by desire. You could barely make out the words you were reading and now, the heat radiating from every fibre of your body makes your vision blurry anew. 

Still, you try to hold your mate's gaze. He has a vicious, almost cruel laugh on his face as he watches you, a smirk on his lips.

"Be a good girl and keep reading. Instruct me on what I have to do." He grins, and lowers his face, placing a searing kiss to your sex. You feel something in your lower belly squeeze, your toes curling. He has your legs thrown over his shoulder, the tips of your toes nearly brushing his majestic wings. 

"Azriel, I can't…" you whine, so far on the edge you can already feel the release coming. You can't focus on reading anymore, but Azriel does not like that. He does not like it when you don't behave like his good girl. And he loves to tease you. Loves to edge you, until you are a sobbing and pleading mess beneath him, begging him to give you the release you so desperately crave.

"Yes, you can." His voice is like a growl, his nose already brushing your skin. He inhales your scent, your sweet arousal beguiling his sense — he feels delirious from your scent, drunk on the feel of your soft skin against his and he can't wait to devour you, to drive his tongue into your slick cunt and like you dry. But now he waits, although he needs to call upon his restraints to hold back. He loves to hear you beg, hear you trembling, needy voice, it makes him damn hard, but it is worth it.

"Read!" His voice reverberates through your body, making more slickness pool between your thighs. 

And you decide to give it another try, trying to focus on all the words that melt into one another.

"His t-to-tongue circled her c-cl-clit and he licked—Fuck!"

Azriel flicks his tongue against the tight bud at the apex of your thighs, chuckling lowly when he hears you curse and feels you shudder beneath and around him. "Baby," he purrs, dragging his broad tongue over your slit. "Continue."

"His broad hands grab her l-le-egs and he forces them to open w-wi-wi-ider." And Azriel does exactly this. He lifts your legs off his shoulders, placing them on the bed and forcing your hips to fall open wider. And that is when his restraints are loosened and he drives his tongue into you with a force that nearly overwhelms you. The book falls out of your hand the moment the back of your head hits the pillow and you cry out in pleasure. Azriel's scarred hand grabs your thighs tightly, finger tips digging into your skin as he growls against your wetness, his tongue driving deep into you. He savours every drop that lands on his tongue, devours you fully, fully revelling in you and how you ride his face, your butt lifting of the bed. Your hand fists his hair, and he groans, his thumb coming up to toy with your clit, rubbing and pressing down to add just a bit more pleasure. 

Flecks of white and black appear in your vision as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your breathing ragged. You ride his face, grinding against his tongue, fisting the pillow beneath your head, your other hand still tangled in Azriel's silken strands. 

You tug and pull and it only fuels his passion more, feasting on you like a starved male until he pushes you over the edge, letting you ride out your high as he continues to lick you softly and places gentle kisses to your sex.

Your limbs spasm as he comes up to you, kissing up your torso, licking over your hard nipples, taking each into his mouth, suckling and tugging. He groans in delight, kissing up your neck until his lips meet yours. 

"More," you breath, body exhausted but the desire still there. "I need you again."

"Then get on your hands and knees, baby." He grins as he meets your gaze. "And this time, you do as I tell you because what you need now is a little bit of punishment." A pout graces your face and Azriel clicks his tongue once again. "You did not finish the chapter, baby and you know that I don't like it when you don't behave like my good girl."

Leaning in, he nips at your lower lip and then pushes himself up. Sitting back on his heels, he lifts you up with his strong hands and flips you over. 

You turn to look at him over your shoulder. There is a vicious glint in his eyes, he grins from on ear to the other, his shadows dancing behind his shoulders, swirling and curling and sliding down his arms. "And my bad girl deserves a little bit of punishment tonight."

~~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar #acosf

[phefics]

come take a dive

ship: finnick odair x reader summary: reader rides finnick's face. prompted by anon!! includes: afab!reader, gn!reader, slight insecure!reader (she's nervous to sit on his face bc she's worried to hurt him but her weight/body type isn't mentioned), face sitting, f!receiving oral, vague mentions of finnick’s canon sexual trauma asked to be tagged: @lufvg word count: 0.9k

"I can hold my breath for a pretty long time," Finnick said, smirking. "So you don't have to worry about me, baby.”

You laughed at his words, but there was a nervous shake to the sound. It had been his idea, for you to try sitting on his face, and he was insistent that you could actually sit.

As in, put all your weight down on his face and focus on nothing but your own pleasure, which was an incredibly generous and appealing offer, but…a little scary, too. Surely even Finnick’s well-trained swimmer’s lungs couldn’t withstand being smothered by your thighs.

He had already survived so much, it would be incredibly pathetic of him to die like that. When you told him as much, he grinned and said, “At least I’d die doing what I loved.”

You had rolled your eyes, but it had managed to ease your nerves. And so, you finally agreed to give it a shot, much to his delight.

Finnick’s past sexual encounters had not been about love or intimacy. When you met him, sex was something that he did because he had to, because it kept him safe, and well, he learned some valuable Capitol secrets along the way.

But now he was free of that life, and sex had become something entirely new and exciting for him. He especially enjoyed making you cum, as if your pleasure was something sacred to him.

Perhaps it was. To know that he had made you feel good, not because he was required to, but because he wanted to. Because he loved you, and he loved to make you feel good.

You hovered over him on the bed, bare from the waist down, only wearing one of his t-shirts. You straddled his shoulders, looking down at his face with a nervous grin.

“You sure about this?” you asked.

“Absolutely. Are you?” he replied, large hands rubbing soothing circles on your thighs, sneaking grabs at your ass.

“I think so. Do you promise you’ll tap out if you need?”

You had previously agreed that if Finnick ever felt triggered during sex, he would tap your nearest body part three times, quickly. The same applied to this situation, whether it was something that upset him or merely the fact that it could be difficult to breathe properly with his face being smothered by your pussy.

“I promise,” he assured you. “Now, c’mon. I wanna taste you.”

It was hard to resist when he spoke like that, and so you took a deep breath before adjusting your position so that your already wet pussy was right above Finnick’s pink, perfect mouth.

Slowly, you lowered your hips, sinking onto his face and gasping as his tongue immediately went to work, lapping at your clit desperately.

You moaned softly, grabbing the headboard to keep yourself steady. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but you understood the appeal.

Finnick whined against you, the action tangible against your cunt, a little vibration that made you pull up in surprise, just a tiny bit, but he wasn’t having that. His hands grabbed your hips and pushed you back down onto his face, his tongue fucking into your hole.

It felt incredible, and you whimpered at the mixture of sensations: His strong grip, holding you in place, fingertips digging into your flesh. His tongue, moving inside of you. And, most interestingly, his nose, which was nudging against your clit, keeping the nerves stimulated while his mouth was otherwise occupied.

You weren’t even sure he was doing it on purpose. Perhaps it was just a lovely coincidence, but the friction made your hips move of their own accord, rutting on his face desperately.

All the moving, combined with your wetness, it caused Finnick’s face to practically slide along your slit, somehow leading to the tip of his nose touching your hole, making you jump in surprise. It didn’t feel bad, but it was definitely a strange feeling. Not bad, though.

You felt Finnick chuckle beneath you, mumbling something that sounded like ‘sorry’ as he fumbled to reposition you.

“Don’t be,” you breathed.

He returned his mouth to your clit then, finally deciding it was time to make you cum, and it didn’t take him long to bring you there. Your legs shook as your orgasm built, and Finnick held you tightly in place until you were crying out.

You carefully got off of him before laying beside him on your back, your body still shaky and pumped with adrenaline. Your legs ached from holding that position and your thighs were soaked.

Finnick rolled onto his side, smirking at you. His face was damp, shiny with your wetness. “See?” he said.

You rolled your eyes, giggling. “Okay, yes. It was worth it.”

“Are you gonna thank me?”

“For convincing me or for making me cum?”

“Both.”

You smirked, eyeing Finnick’s hard cock in his pants. “I know a way to show you just how grateful I am.”

He grinned.

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick x y/n #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #the hunger games #ophelia's fics

[turtletaubwrites]

A Good Catch ~ Part 1

✨600 Followers Fic Celebration!✨

I am so grateful for all of you! This has been such a wonderful time, and having all of you around to nerd out with, and to share my writing with is the best! Shanks won the poll for the next x Reader fic, and I hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4367

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (End)

Ao3 Link

Summary: You are an unlucky fisherwoman having a bad day, until a red haired pirate captain offers to help you out. You're pretty sure he only makes it worse.

Rating/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, I feel like there's some romance tropes I could tag, but I usually just write smut, so please let me know what silly tropes I have in here 😅

A/N: I am having so much fun with this one! I'm doing my best to keep it to 3 parts, so wish me luck 😅 Please enjoy this fluffy first chapter!

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

“Now I’m gonna get murdered by pirates,” you grumbled to yourself as the ship crept ever closer. “Just fucking perfect.”

The windless sea was no challenge for the massive pirate ship. All you could do was sit with your pile of fish, jealous of the huge oars guiding the threat to you. 

Dread loomed as that jolly roger closed the distance, like an animal baring its fangs before it strikes. Crossed blades, and a sinister skull with red stripes over its left eye socket. 

You didn’t pay enough attention to the gossip and wanted posters to remember who was headed your way. 

Not that it matters. They’re pirates. 

It was too much to hope that they’d pass you by. 

A few voices carried over from the deck, until a tall man leaned over the side. His bright, red hair hung still against this stupidly windless sky. 

“Hey, friend,” he called, the sun at your back giving you a glimpse of his wide smile, even from so high above you. 

“We’re not friends,” you countered, crossing your arms to keep him from noticing your shaky hands. 

“I suppose not. You seem like you’re in a spot of trouble though, and we’re happy to help.”

His deep voice sounded so friendly. Genuine. Charming. 

He’s just trying to lure me into his trap. Who knows what they’d do to me on that ship…

“The sun’s getting pretty low for a small boat to be all the way out here,” he judged, trying to block the glare as he looked down at you. “I don’t think we’ll be getting much more wind today.”

“Thank you, I’ll be fine.”

His pause made your skin itch, wishing he would stop looking at you. 

“We can bring your boat with us. I’m assuming you’re from that village a ways to the west?”

It must have been a trick of your eyes, it couldn’t happen so quickly. But you swore the day inched closer to night faster with every second. You watched the light grow golden as it lit up the red haired man, and his pirate ship.

Fuck.

“I refuse to be rescued,” you choked out, nails digging into your arms. 

“Okay,” he said in an annoyingly teasing tone, “if you insi–”

“I’ll pay you for the service! I had a great haul before…”

“Sounds good to me,” he laughed, deep and hearty. As if he were truly happy. 

You had thought pirates would seem scarier. Maybe this is worse.

You barely heard his shouts  as men started to lower ropes down, prepping to save you. 

“You should know I’m armed,” you yelled up at the back of his head, continuing when he faced you again. “Anyone touches me, and they’ll lose a hand.”

“I’ll be on my guard then. I’ve been running out of those.”

You didn’t understand, or appreciate his teasing while you waited. 

~

“Welcome aboard!”

Pirates echoed the red haired man’s welcome, and you assumed he was the captain as the rest busied themselves about. He sat on deck, calm as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Now that you were so close, you couldn’t help but notice the rippled muscles of his chest and stomach between his mostly open shirt. 

Besides the cloak over his shoulders, he didn’t seem to wear anything that could mark him as captain. Unless his red hair, and three scars over his left eye… 

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he asked, moving to stand beside you. 

“The jolly roger,” you pointed to the menacing skull. “You must be the captain.”

“Good eye,” he leaned in with a smile. 

His smile should have a completely different word. The sight from your boat was nothing compared to seeing the way this man's lips curled slowly, the left side starting first as it grew, as if he was enjoying the act of smiling itself. And his eyes…

His eyes were way too close to you. 

“Are you alright?”

Concern broke that smile, and he called for someone to bring water. 

Your face flushed, hot to the tips of your ears. You realized that you hadn’t heard what the pirate had said because you were too busy swooning over his pretty eyes. 

The water was welcome, and you gulped half of it down, suddenly embarrassed about how fucking fishy you must smell with your day’s catch beside you. 

“Is there anything else you need, miss…”

Trying to catch your eyes, the pirate leaned toward you. He reached for your shoulder, and you jumped back, spilling water down your chest.

“I’m so sorry, love. I forgot about your warning.”

His soothing voice felt real as he went to a knee in front of you. 

“I do hope you will spare me my fate, I swear that no one on this boat will forget it again.”

He’s really too charming. He’s either the sweetest person in the world, or some sort of demon with powers of seduction. 

You nodded. It wasn’t like you could truly defend yourself anyway. The fear of being at their mercy kept you hyper aware of all the moving bodies around you.

“How long until we’re at the village?”

The sun was almost gone from the sky now, and you just wanted to be home. To scrub this stupid day away, and pass out. 

“It should be about three days from now.”

“Three,” you choked out, dropping the now empty mug of water, which he caught without taking his eyes off of yours.

“We’ve got some business on the other side of the island. We'll be stopping by the village to restock supplies before we head out.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” you snapped, voice louder than you meant it.

He just smirked, tilting his head.

“Sorry, love. Would you like us to toss you overboard? I don’t think you had many rescuers lined up.”

For some reason, you couldn’t get your mouth to remember that these men could kill you as you growled back at him.

“You didn’t rescue me. I paid you for a trip back to the village.”

His lips quirked as if he was fighting not to smile again. He looked down at your haul, fish still flapping in the net. 

“That is a really nice haul, miss. Afraid it’s not enough for a direct trip, though.”

Pirates came to take your fish away, and it broke the spell his irritating eyes had on you.

“Please, save this one! You can have it, just… Make sure you cook it well.”

The two men with the net followed your gesture to that fish, assuring you they would obey before taking it away.

“Why’s that one special?”

The weight of this long ass day hit you, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before you looked back at that pretty captain. 

“It was a good catch.”

He huffed a laugh, the clear amusement he got from your words making you simultaneously annoyed, and pleased. You were mentally smacking yourself for that. 

Don’t be attracted to pirates, dumbass. 

“I’m Shanks. I don’t know if you heard me before, but…”

Your skin flushed again, and he seemed to notice, a warm, evil smile slowly forming on his lips.

“What’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know it.”

He gave a real laugh then, loud, and infectious. You had to remind yourself that he was laughing at you.

“What would you like us to call you then, huh? “Fish Girl?” Maybe “Fail Boat?” Or how about “Damsel in Distress?” I think I like that–”

You ripped your hand back as soon as you’d realized what you’d done.

But it was too late.

Your idiotic, suicidal hand had shot out and smacked him, hard, right in the center of that gorgeous chest of his.

The deck roared with laughter while you shook with horror. Shanks had looked down at his chest, and when he lifted his face to yours he looked stunned. If you hadn’t just signed your own death warrant, you might have thought his face comical, brows raised high, with his mouth and eyes wide. 

“Go easy on the girl, captain,” teased a tall man with gray hair, shaking his head at Shanks.

“Yeah, come on, captain! What kinda hospitality are you giving, insulting our guest like that?”

A whole group of pirates crowded around him, reprimanding him, and giving him a few gentle punches and shoves. 

Your mouth hung open. The sight of these pirates being so playfully disrespectful toward their captain didn’t fit in your brain. None of this made sense with what pirates were supposed to be like. 

“Fine. Fine! I’m sorry, miss…”

He’d broken away from his men, leaning toward you with that question. 

“Y/N.”

He hit you with a new grin to outshine all the others, making your breath hitch.

“What a beautiful name for a damsel in distress.”

You didn’t need to hit him this time, as pirates did the job for you, even throwing things at him from across the deck. 

Maybe it was the overwhelm, the fatigue. Maybe you’d gone insane.

But laughter built in your stomach, growing through your body, until you were shaking with it. You had your hands on your knees as it took you over, and the pirates around you joined in. 

How can pirates be laughing and smiling like this with me? How can it be genuine? 

Amidst the continued roars of his men, Shanks shook his head, gesturing for you to follow him. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll show you.”

Frowning at the back of his head, you followed through the wooden halls until he opened a large door, gesturing for you to go inside.

He rolled his eyes when you hesitated, before going in first. 

The large room was tiled, with lockers and showers, and there he stood in the center, grinning like a creep.

“I’ll pass,” you deadpanned, backing out the door.

“Come on, fish girl,” he taunted, “you stink, and I think you’ll be easier to clean than the blankets you’ll sleep in tonight.”

Blood rushing to your face again, your mouth opened and closed as anger and embarrassment fought to take over.

Shanks laughed again, but tried to stifle it. 

“Sorry, you’re just,” he motioned to his lips, mimicking your movements. “You’re a fish girl.”

“Shut up,” you seethed, leaning toward him. “I’m not taking a shower on a pirate ship when anyone can–”

“I’ll guard the door for you, okay,” he assured, finally seeming to take something seriously. “I’ll make sure no one comes in.”

Now his stupid smile was soft, small, and sweet. You hated it.

“Oh right,” you scoffed, “like I'd trust a pirate captain. Who’s gonna stop you from coming in?”

“What makes you think this pirate captain would even want to come in here, huh?”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, turning to leave.

He was so fast. You jumped back as he blocked the door. He saw your wide eyes, and moved out of the doorway so he wouldn’t block your exit, but he still leaned close.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Really, okay? I promise I will sit right outside this door, and not let a single person come inside until you’re done. There’s fresh clothes for you over there too. Whatever you need.”

A very fine trembling worked its way around your body as you studied him. It seemed like such a bad idea to trust him. 

But you were exhausted. 

“You’ll sit in front of the door?”

He straightened up, a look of relief brightening that serious face.

“I will.”

“Will you wear a blindfold?”

“If that’s what it takes,” he agreed with a smirk.

“And let me tie your hands behind your back?”

Shanks sucked his teeth as he leaned back. You had a second of fear as he started taking his clothes off.

But all he removed was his heavy cloak, revealing that he was missing his left arm. 

Guilt hit you, apologies about to pour out, but he held his palm out. 

“Afraid I can’t do that, but I promise I’ll do the rest. Is that alright, Y/N?”

~

This is really nice soap.

Still on edge, your body started to relax a bit with the delicious smelling soap on your skin. 

But every time you felt a moment of relaxation, you’d remember the pirate on the other side of the door. 

“You’ve gotta make it tighter, sweetie. Otherwise it won’t work.”

That fucking sentence kept tearing through your brain. The way he’d run his fingers across yours while you adjusted the cloth to blindfold him. The way his hair and skin had felt and smelled as you moved it into place. The way he’d rasped those words while he grabbed your wrist to guide you, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your skin. 

The way you had let him touch you without arguing. His fingers had taken advantage of the moment, but it had felt almost electric to let him.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Thank you.”

How did he hear that over the shower?

~

“What the hell is this?”

“Sorry, love, I'm afraid I can't see what you– ow, hold on!”

You definitely had a few red hairs between your fingers after ripping his blindfold off. 

The pirate captain got to his feet to meet your eyes, and fucking snorted.

“What is wrong with you,” you fumed, tossing the blindfold at his face.

The fact that he caught it before it hit him only pissed you off more.

“There has to be something else I can wear,” you demanded, pulling at the frilly lavender dress he stuck you with. You looked like some creepy porcelain doll.

His face was going as red as his hair as he tried not to laugh.

“I’m sorry, no one’s– we don’t have anyone your size,” he choked out, clearing his throat before continuing. “We have a few more dresses like this, though. They were supposed to be a gift for a princess, so you should feel honored!”

“Fuck you.”

His lips were fucking quivering as he fought his laughter. His eyes flicked down to your clenched fists, and he relented.

“Right, sorry, okay! You can have some of my clothes, you’ll just have to roll them up, alright?”

Very judgmentally looking him up and down, you raised your brows at him.

“Do you have any shirts that actually button up all the way? Or do you expect me to let my tits hang out like yours.”

Shanks cackled then, catching himself on the wall, his eyes even tearing up a little. 

You kicked yourself for saying something so sexual in front of a fucking pirate.

“You’re a funny one, fish girl,” he teased between hiccupped laughs, “but you definitely look like a damsel in that dress.”

You kicked the pirate for being such a dick. 

“Fuck, sorry,” he huffed, wincing as he rubbed his shin where you’d kicked it. 

“Follow me. I definitely wanna get you outta that dress– I mean into different clothes,” he almost yelled, warding off a slap with his arm. “So you stop hurting me!”

Practically boiling with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear, you let yourself be guided along. The lantern lit halls were roomier than you would have expected, and you could hear the distant voices of the crew. 

“Here we go,” he said gently, opening another large door. He went in first again, and you entered what had to be his quarters.

Of course. We’re getting his clothes. 

It was full of rich, dark woods, red blankets, a desk that seemed to have more bottles of alcohol than anything work related on it, and a delightful, almost spicy scent filling the air. 

The room was a bit messy, and you felt out of place standing there in that frilly dress while he dug through his wardrobe, tossing clothes to the ground as he searched.

“Here, love, how about these?”

“Do you have a belt?”

~

Managing to roll, buckle, and tuck at his clothes, you were mostly satisfied as you checked the mirror.

Even with all the buttons done up, you still had to tie his shirt to keep your chest from popping out like his does. 

“You almost finished? The party’s star…”

Those pretty eyes brightened when you opened the door. His little smirk made you frown, and he held his hand up.

“You were right, Y/N. This definitely suits you better.”

He offered that hand to you, and even in the warm glow of the lanterns, you could see scars, callouses, and thick veins that made your breath hitch for a moment. 

Your hand had almost reached his when he pulled away.

“Almost forgot,” he teased, his voice somehow lower than normal as he stepped out of the doorway for you. “I’ll lose my only hand if I touch you, right?”

“I…”

“Well, I definitely won’t risk that.”

He stepped further back, letting you follow him into the hallway. 

Your brain seemed to stutter, unable to join the moment as it flew through conflicting emotions. 

Like why it upset you that he wouldn’t risk it. 

Shanks moved in close, his spicy scent filling your lungs as you looked up at him. 

“Just let me know if that ever changes.”

He turned away after a subtle wink that made your brain short circuit. 

“You comin’? I’m hungry.”

Still barefoot without your fishy shoes, you chased that red hair down the hallway.

He really is some sort of seduction demon.

~

“Hey, girly. Is this jackass treating you alright?”

“This is how you talk about your captain?”

The older man with long, gray hair ignored Shanks’ protests as he looked you over.

“You should be more worried about him,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at the captain.

“Ha, I’m sure you’re right.”

He grinned down at you, before motioning toward the fire. 

“Come on, the food’s almost done.”

The crew had found a remote beach, and set up camp. Their camp supplies seemed to be mostly alcohol. 

Shanks had said they had business here, and that they’d go to the village in about three days.

What kind of business are pirates getting up to on my island?

The thought was pushed aside as Shanks called for you. Most of the pirates were holding their plates, or using boulders or crates while they ate. Captain Shanks had a dingy little table by the fire, and was waving you over. 

“Come on, love. Let’s eat, and find out why that fish of yours is so special.”

The day's events hit you again, but you joined him in a mismatched chair, and grabbed a fork. 

It smelled good.

“Here,” Shanks demanded, shoving a mug of some kind of alcohol into your hand, before standing and lifting his own to address the crew. “Here’s to our luck! We found an unlucky fisherwoman, and now we’ve got good eats. To Y/N!”

The sheer volume of their enthusiasm made your eyes go wide as you faked a sip.

“So tell me, fish girl,” he leaned toward you, the small table not leaving much space between you. “Why is this fish so special?”

Ignoring him, you focused on your plate. The way it looked and smelled was perfect, but you had to know.

He watched your movements, following along as you pierced into the flesh, bringing the first bite to your lips. 

It was perfect. Whoever had cooked it had treated it right. The tender meat and the subtle flavor were given just the amount of spice to balance it out.

It would have sold well. After all it took to get it, you were grateful that it didn’t go to waste, and tasting it yourself was wonderful.

Even if you were sharing it with a pirate.

“This is incredible, Y/N. You really are a fish girl.”

Letting out a sigh, you dug in, trying to enjoy the meal that had put you in this situation. The night was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and endless calls for cheers, the clanging of metal mugs like the shifting heartbeat of this joyful crew.

“So, I had someone take a look at your boat, in case we could help fix it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my boat,” you spat out, wishing you could have enjoyed your meal in peace. Without this too fucking handsome and annoying pirate captain.

Shanks tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk playing at his lips. 

“That was the report,” he said softly, the teasing tone building slowly in his voice. “They did say that one of the oars is missing.”

“Thanks for the report,” you grumbled, watching the fire now.

“Come on, just tell me what happened. How’d you get stranded out there?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Your face felt hot, the fire not close enough for the burning in your skin. 

“Consider it payment then. For my clothes, and for my company,” he taunted, his voice dipping low. 

“I could do without the latter.”

“You wound me, sweet damsel.”

He put his hand to his heart, chuckling at your frown before chugging whatever was in his mug.

“It was a really good catch,” you mumbled, giving in. He scooted even closer to you, excitement in those lovely eyes, mixing with the light of the fire.

Shanks kept that beautiful mouth shut, just tilting his head toward yours as he waited.

“My grandma used to talk about her best catch. That was it,” you said flatly, gesturing to your empty plate. “She made me promise that if I ever caught a fish like that, I had to eat it myself, eat it with friends.”

“Don’t waste a fish like that on berry, sugar. It’s a gift.”

He raised his mug as you mimicked your grandma’s voice, and you brought yours up with a sigh, still just pretending to drink.

“I’m honored, then. Your grandma was right, that fish was amazing.”

Memories of her seemed to join you at the table, bittersweet, and heavier than you’d like. 

“Sorry, Y/N. You, uh… You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” you coughed, a hint of anger back in your voice as you fought against the prickling in your eyes.

“Well,” he drawled out, extending the word for way too long, “you still didn’t tell me how you got stranded out there with nothing but the perfect fish.”

Groaning, you put your forehead on the dingy table and blurted it out, as if you could make it not true if you said it fast enough. 

“I caught the fish. I saw what it was. It started to slip through my hands. I knew it’d sell well, so I didn’t want to lose it. I ended up tripping over one of the oars. I should have let it go, I could have grabbed the oar if I’d seen it slipping. But I was greedy. I wanted to sell that stupid fish instead of eating it, and now grandma’s probably cussing at me from the afterlife.”

Shanks at least had the decency to shove his knuckles between his teeth before he started laughing. 

“Oh, fuck you,” you huffed, standing to leave the captain’s dingy table.

“Wait, please,” he called, catching your fingers in his, and pulling you back toward him. Only to drop your hand as if he’d been burned when you met his eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean–”

Whatever you might have said was lost in a wave of too many things at once. Humiliation over the whole thing, fear that these pirates could still hurt you, especially if you fell asleep, and the burning in your stupid cheeks because this gorgeous asshole held your hand. 

What the fuck is wrong with me today?

The moon was mostly full, so there was plenty of light on the sand as you walked away from the camp. They were so fucking noisy, but the ocean beckoned for you to sit, gentle waves like your grandmother’s sweet voice. 

When she wasn’t giving me shit, you thought with a laugh, digging your toes in the sand. 

“The ocean makes me feel better too.”

His deep voice annoyed you more than it startled you. 

Shanks sat beside you, but not too close.

Ignoring him did not make him go away. 

“What do you want?”

“I wanna make your shitty day better. How can I do that?”

“Take me home.”

“Three days on that one, love. Anything more immediate?”

Your plan to stay up all night was already failing, exhaustion dragging you down.

His eyes were so soft under the moon, the hint of a smile brightening his face.

“I don’t want to sleep out in the open with everyone. Is there somewhere… safe where I can sleep?”

Shanks nodded, looking down as he cleared his throat. 

“Of course, let me take you now.”

The ship itself seemed to be sleeping, so quiet with only a handful of crew watching it as the rest camped on the island. 

Red hair under lantern light guided you through those wood paneled halls again, until he led you to the guest quarters. 

“Here’s the key, and you’re welcome to shove this chair under the door knob as well. Breakfast will be at the beach in the morning,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “It’ll probably be the afternoon depending on the hangovers, but you– Are you alright?”

He knelt at your feet, looking you over as you slumped onto the bed.

“How long were you out there today? Have you been drinking water? Are you…”

This charming pirate stopped himself from touching your forehead, and some insane, fatigued part of you reached out, grabbing his hand with both of yours. 

“I lied,” you confessed, voice quiet and close, his pretty eyes on your lips. “I can’t cut your hand off. I’m not armed.”

The slow smile he gave you now was your favorite, somehow making the light in his eyes shine brighter. Your hands reluctantly let go of him as he shifted, but instead of moving away, Shanks touched his calloused fingers to your cheek. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I am obsessed with these two now. What the heck. I need Shanks to make fun of me like that 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02

Part 2

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#shanks x reader #red haired shanks #x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #one piece fics #turtletaub fics #follower celebration #fic requests #mine #fluff #one piece fluff #shanks fluff #shanks fics

[fuckmyskywalker]

"Frustration!" — Anakin Skywalker.

— CW: 18+, smut. Hate sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus. | Word count: 1.2k!

— Taglist! | List of films!

“Anakin, fucking let go of me!” The leather of his glove digs into your skin, as he drags you harshly into the cockpit.

He locks the door behind him, not even bothering to give you the reason why he’s so upset about… well, something. Only Anakin knows what’s going on inside his mind— although, sometimes you wonder if he even knows what’s going on. You try to stay calm, but your heart is racing. Anakin's face is contorted into something unreadable and his eyes are wide. He turns away from you, seemingly out of anger or fear— or both.

“Do you like him?” He asks out of the blue, increasing your confused state. He crosses his arms over his chest as he waits for your answer. 

With no clue what he is talking about, you stare at him rather annoyed. The lack of answer makes him scoff, he thinks you’re playing dumb. Anakin thinks everyone should know what he is thinking about and to some extent, it’s frustrating. The lack of communication on his part when it comes to literally any ambit is potentially a red flag— but who would dare to question the Chosen One?

Anakin knows he can be as cocky as he wants. He is demanding and irritating— his ego is as big as Yavin Prime, if not bigger. But, you always find a way to put a stop to him, and that frustrates him even more. He hates that you are the only person who can say “no” to him, not even Obi-Wan can stop him when he has his mind set on something. Plus, it doesn’t help at all that he’s been fucking with you for a while now.

“I asked you a question, fucking answer it,” Anakin’s tone is beyond demanding. With what right is he talking to you as if you were one of his soldiers? 

You finally talk, “Anakin, I have no clue who are you talking about.”

“Don’t play stupid, I saw you. You were flirting with Senator Cadaman,” his body language is aggressive, something you are more than accustomed to. 

«Oh Maker, he is jealous,» you think. That was unexpected. 

“Anakin,” taking a step closer, you mirror his position, crossing your arms as well. In an ideal situation, you would calm him down, and let him know that nothing is going on between you and Cadaman… but this will never be the ideal situation— not when Anakin Skywalker is involved. “I wasn’t flirting with him. It’s called being polite, is it suddenly my fault you mistake simple manners with flirting, just because no one is nice to you?”

Perhaps you were being harsh on him, but you weren’t in the mood to deal with Anakin’s jealousy— not now, not never. Boundaries were never set to start with; it’s not formal, it’s not a relationship.

It’s just sex.

“People are nice to me.”

“Only because they are afraid of you.”

“No, it is because they respect me!” His voice raises. Deep down he knows that maybe, just maybe, you're right— but Anakin would rather die than admit when he’s wrong.

“Get out of your damn bubble, Anakin. It has nothing to do with respect; when people respect you they admire you,” closing the distance between your bodies, you raise your hand, digging your index finger into his chest. “People fear what may happen to them if they don’t agree with you, or follow your orders, or deny you something.”

His flesh hand grabs your own, yanking you towards him and pressing you against his chest. His gloved hand reaches for your jaw, forcing you to raise your head to look at him— it hurts. He is being rough. He is mad.

“Fear?” He looks down at you with lust and sentiment, barely covered by a thin veil of disgust. Only you can say no to him. Only you have the courage to treat him as an equal— and that makes his dick so, so hard. “I’ll fucking show you what fear is.”

You fight against him, but it’s pretty much pointless. Anakin spins you and presses your chest over the ship panel, the different buttons and levers painfully digging into your skin. He struggles to take your pants off but in the end, he manages to yank them below your knees— adding a hint of humiliation to the situation. His gloved hand slaps your ass harshly, causing you to moan. 

“Do you want to be a bitch and talk back?” He says after another slap. “Do you want to act like a slut?”

“Anakin!” You wail. He smiles, this is how he wants you. This is where he thinks you belong. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Another slap. The dynamic between you two has always been the same, fighting, arguing, and calling each other names… until you grew up enough to blow the steam off in more… carnal ways. “Tell me to fucking stop, and I will.”

But you don’t. You find yourself unable to speak. 

You hate how he breaks your will, you hate how you only find pleasure in his rough treatment, and you especially hate feeding his ego.

“See? I know you. I know the real you,” his voice is pure spite, despite the lewd undertones. “I know you are nothing more than a slut, you enjoy the attention.”

The skin of your ass is burning, and it hurts, but the words that could make him stop his assault never leave your lips. You feel powerless, like you are nothing more than a toy that he can play with at his leisure. You hate the feeling of not being in control of your own body, and you curse yourself for not being able to break free from his grip. Is that same power play that keeps you tied to him— and what keeps Anakin always coming back to you?

“See how fucking wet you are?” 

He is disgusting. You despise him— but you push your hips towards his face when he kneels right behind you to plunge his tongue inside your pussy. He laps at you without shame, as if he doesn’t even know the definition of it. Anakin eats you out relentlessly, groaning at the taste. 

“I fucking hate you and your perfect fucking cunt,” he spits right on you, mixing your arousal with his saliva. The act makes you squirm, stretching your arm behind you and yanking his messy hair bringing back his face to where you need him the most. 

“Shut up, shut the fuck up,” you breathe, closing your eyes. “W–Why can’t you just be quiet for five damn minutes!”

Anakin moans against your core, closing his eyes and fucking you with his tongue until your knees go weak. Sneaking his hand in between your legs he rubs tight, quick circles over your clit which triggers your orgasm— perhaps faster than on any other occasion. Biting your lower lip, refusing to let his name escape from the deepest corners of your mind, you close your eyes to focus on the lewd noises of the man behind you— practically slurping everything you have to offer. 

In an instant, he is standing next to you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and crashing his lips against yours. Smearing the wetness all over his mouth over your face, the kiss is messy, borderline savage— and you love it.

“I wasn’t flirting with him,” you whisper.

“I know.”

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#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes! #𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 kinktober 2023! #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin x reader smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n

[loonylupinblack3]

Period Trouble

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?

Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it

You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.

You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body. 

There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.

You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”

You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”

Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.

Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”

The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.

Oh how you regretted that decision now.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”

Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.

“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.

She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”

Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.

You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”

When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”

She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”

You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”

Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”

You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.

You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.

He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.

“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.

Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”

It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”

He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”

You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.

Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury. 

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”

You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”

You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”

You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”

He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.

Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”

You scowled at him. “Says who?”

He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”

You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.

“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.

Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.

As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.

Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.

You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.

When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.

“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.

Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.

Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”

You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”

He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”

Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist. 

Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.

An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.

“Mrs May?” you asked.

The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”

You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.

“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?

Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones. 

The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”

There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”

Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.

You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.

You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”

Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”

“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”

Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”

“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”

Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”

Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”

Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”

You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”

“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”

The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.

“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.

Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”

You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.

As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”

You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.

You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.

#wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #xmen #x-men #xmen movie #xmen movies #x men movies #marvel #hugh jackman #james logan howlett #james howlett #x men #xavier #charles xavier

[sky-scribbles]

Shepard holds a funeral for her clone.

The paperwork is almost harder than the ceremony. Turns out it’s tricky to register the death of someone whose birth - creation? Decanting-from-vat? - was never recorded to begin with. Then there’s some kind of question about whether the clone needs to be retroactively registered as a Council space citizen to have her death put on the official record, and if so, whether she counts as a member of the Systems Alliance or as an ‘undocumented alien’. Which is pretty fucking ironic, considering how utterly she’d have loathed having the word alien attached to her.

And once Shepard’s ground her teeth through a dozen calls and bludgeoned through the first layer of formwork - a death certificate still needs a name.

‘I have to put something,’ she says. She’s aware that her voice is ragged, and that Kaidan is watching her as he brews her fourth coffee of the evening with concern heavy on his face. She must look barely alive, up near midnight in a kitchen that was Anderson’s and still feels nothing like hers, hair falling forward, eyes shadowed grey. Datapads and empty mugs strewn around her. Fine. She’s felt barely alive ever since she woke up in a Cerberus lab.

‘You could choose one for her,’ Kaidan says gently. A lot of people speak to her gently, these days.

‘She’d hate that. A name makes you individual. She didn’t want to be an individual; she wanted to be me.’

The cofee machine whirrs softly, sounding louder than it is in the open space of the apartment. It still doesn’t feel right, all this space for one person. Someone could drown in this much space.

‘She didn’t want to be you, though. Not really.’ Kaidan pours out the coffee, his eyes only leaving her face for a moment. ‘What she wanted was to be the symbol. The face on the vids.’

He carries the mug over and sets it down beside her hand. Shepard grips it tight. The unfinished form blinks up at her from the datapad screen, and she looks away.

‘I’m not asking this because I don’t support you doing it, or to judge you for it, or anything,’ Kaidan says, after a moment. ‘I just want to understand. Can you tell me why this is so important to you? I mean - I get that you were trying to save her, and she... she let go. But...’

He hesitates, and in his silence Shepard hears, she tried to kill you. She tried to take you away from me, and everyone who cares about you, for a second time - because she was jealous.

Shepard sips her coffee. It hasn’t had time to cool down, and her lips smart. She ignores it. She thinks.

‘What you said about... being the symbol,’ she says at last. ‘I get why she wanted it, or thought she did. I understand feeling that Commander Shepard is someone bigger than you are.’

Kaidan breathes out slowly, and takes a seat beside her.

‘I get feeling that you’re so small, so nothing, next to everyone’s idea of what Commander Shepard is. And when I fall short -’ She sees him prepare to protest, and cuts across him. ‘I do, I do all the time - I feel like it’d be easier if I were the symbol. Not...’ She waves a hand, indicating all the sleep-starved mess of her. ‘This. I don’t even know when what would Shepard do and what will I do stopped feeling like the same question.’

She lets her hand fall back onto the table. Kaidan takes it and holds it tight.

‘And I think of her, the clone, waking up in some Cerberus med bay. Confused. And Brooks - Brooks was there, feeding her things to believe, manipulating her, turning her into the symbol she wanted. And I get it.’ Shepard bites her burned lip. ‘Because I woke up in a Cerberus lab. And I was scared. And they used me, and I let them.’

What she does not add is, and sometimes I don’t feel any more real than her. I don’t have any way to prove that I’m the woman who died in the wreckage of her broken ship. They wiped away that woman’s scars. There could be all kinds of tech in my head, feeding me a lie, telling me I’m real.

She swallows. Her throat feels raw. ‘And now the clone’s dead, and no one cares. We’re planning a fucking party. If I don’t push for a funeral, she’ll just go unregistered and undocumented and everyone will keep joking about how crazy this whole mess has been, how I fell through a fish tank and a mad clone tried to steal my life, and it’d be like she never existed at all. I don’t have to fill in these forms. I could take the easy road and let her be a ghost. But I can’t do that, Kaidan. I can’t.’

He looks at her, his eyes steady and patient and full of worry. Then he slips an arm over her shoulder and pulls her in, and Shepard leans into him, needing the surety of his touch, his warmth. Anything that tells her she’s something more than a force piloting a set of N7 armour.

Kaidan presses a slow kiss to the top of her head. He holds her until she stops feeling ready to howl. Then he sits with her and helps her fill in the forms, helps her choose a name for the clone, one that fits. When morning comes, he calls C-Sec and stays on the line until they agree to release the body to the Normandy, into the custody of the only person who could be considered the dead woman’s relative. 

He doesn’t ask Shepard any more questions as to why she needs this done.

In the end, they bury her in space, as Shepard would a crewmate. And no one has stories to tell of what she meant to them. They have nothing to say about the achievements of her angry little life. But they wear their dress blues, and speak softly, and they turn the lights down low.

Shepard doesn’t know if this is what her clone would have wanted. Maybe she never learned to want anything for herself at all. It doesn’t matter. A funeral doesn’t help her clone; it helps her.

They lift the casket into the airlock. EDI opens the outer door. And the casket leaps away into space in a blur of silver-grey, like the body within is hungry for the stars.

#anyway the clone is a walking tragedy and ill never be normal about it #yes this is still a cr blog. but im doing a mass effect replay and i have feelings #mass effect #femshep #shepard #kaidan alenko #shenko #sky's writing #oc: sita shepard

[axelsagewrites]

Roy Kent*Locker Room

Pairing: Season one!Roy Kent x f!reader

Word count: 2063

Warnings: swearing (kent style), m! receiving oral, voyeurism/exhibitionism, Jamie flirting with reader, Roy’s inner thoughts aka light violence, smut 18+

Masterlist here

Jamie fucking Tartt was about to get his front teeth knocked out his fucking skull if he didn’t back the fuck down was all Roy could think about during practise. that and knocking him over the head with a heavy rope, or a rock, or his fist, or his shoe, or really anything. of course, the American didn’t see the harm in Jamie running up and down the pitch like a twat but as captain Roy wanted nothing more than to ship all three of them back on a plane to wherever the hell the cowboy came from.

the only solace Roy got during that practise was your text saying you would pick him up after practise for a surprise date. for a moment it actually brought a smile to his face. that was till he caught sight of Tartt doing his own chant, so he sent back a quick ‘love u’ text before going to yell at the knob head celebrating a fake match.

Roy counted down the seconds till he could get off this damn pitch however when coach lasso called, he decided to fall back. by making sure Roy was the last one in the locker room and showers he could make sure he was as far back from Jamie Tartt who was running like he was being chased. if only it was Roy chasing him with a big stick.

anyone who spoke to him only received a grunt in return. as Roy came back from the showers with only a towel round his waist most of the team had left. Jamie was at his locker taking his stupid tongue out selfies as Issac said a quick goodbye to him, dodging Roys gaze as he and Collin split, Sam not far behind.

Roy inwardly smiled at the way Nathan ran out the room when he walked in. when he got to his locker the first thing, he did was check his phone to discover you were already here, so he quickly let you know he just had to get changed. when lasso and beard tried to say goodbye Roy just grunted as he pulled on his jeans.

when he glanced behind him, he was grateful to see Jamie finally sauntering out the room, not even bothering to say goodbye to his captain to which Roy was thankful for. when the door shut behind Jamie Roy let out a sigh of relief being the only one left in the room.

you however had decided not to wait in the car and just meet Roy in the locker room. you nodded and smiled to all the boys you passed but didn’t stop to talk since you weren’t there for them. as Isaac and colin left the two wondered how in the hell you and Roy worked considering you were always kind and happy whereas Roy was, well Roy.

You were barely able to slip passed ted and beard with just a howdy hello. However only one of the boys managed to stop you in your path, “Look who it is,” Jamie grinned, opening his arms out wide making you roll your eyes with a smile, “Its Mrs grampa,”

“Hello to you too Tartt,”

“Don’t worry love I won’t keep ya. Can’t risk grampa having to wait for his sponge bath,”

You rolled your eyes again as you kept walking, knowing full well Jamie was staring at your arse, “You’re just jealous he gets one and you don’t,” you grinned, excited to finally see your boyfriend after a long day.

“If you ever wanna be with a real footballer love you’ve got my number,” he said, clicking his tongue and firing finger guns at you before spinning on his heels and finally leaving.

you were laughing quietly as you opened the door to the locker room, finally laying eyes on your boyfriend. Roy looked up with a stone face, but a smile fell over it when he saw you, “What’s got you laughing then princess?” he asked as he fastened his belt.

“Just Jamie being a prick,” you said as you walked up to him. before Roy could start his impending rant, you looped your fingers in his belt loops, pulling him closer, “Sad I missed the show though,” you smirked, leaning up to kiss him.

Roy practically melted into your touch as his hand cupped your jaw, his other resting on your hip, “Im sure I could hit rewind for you,” he teased as he pulled back, his hands moving to your back to pull your body flush against his, “I’ve missed you,”

“You saw me this morning babe,” you laughed as your arms moved to rest over his shoulders.

Roy chuckled, his eyes glancing down, “Been thinking about you all day,”

“What about me specifically?” you teased, catching another quick peck.

his hands slid down your back slowly before he suddenly slapped your arse making you have yelped half squeal. “You know exactly what I’ve been thinking about. walking in here looking like this,”

“Looking like what?” you said, leaning in so your nose brushed against his.

“So, fucking fuckable,” he said, his voice somehow lower than before making your stomach do flips and knocking the butterflies all over the place, “Been thinking about those fucking lips all day,” Roy said before his lips crashed onto yours in a desperate messy kiss.

your hands gripped his hair making Roy groan into the kiss as his hands squeezed your hips tightly knocking the wind out of you. “Well, I can’t do much else with these lips till we get out of here,” you said, finally pulling away for air and walking backwards leading Roy towards the door.

“Says who?” Roy said, his hot breath fanning over your neck before his lips soon to kiss down your skin making you moan when he reached the crook of your neck. Roy moved you back till your back was against the locker room door.

“We can’t Roy,” you moaned, your grip tightening in his hair.

“Sure, don’t sound like you wanna stop,” he mumbled against your skin.

it had been a thought you’d had a lot, fucking Roy in the locker room. or really anywhere at Richmond. Roy had even said after his last win that he would’ve taken you on the pitch right then if he could. ever since the idea had been in your head and with the season just starting again it was seeming tempting, but you knew the cleaners would be coming round soon.

but not right now. Roy groaned when you pulled his head from your neck but his eyes about popped out his skull when he felt your hand on his belt buckle. “Seriously?” he asked, almost getting giddy about the idea as you unbuckled the belt, working quickly on the button of his jeans.

You hummed in response as you undid his zip, “Just my mouth though. for now,”

“Hey im not fucking complaining,” Roy grinned but his mouth fell open, a small moan from his lips when he felt your hand wrap around his cock, “Fuck babe wait- “he said making you almost pull your hand out his boxers but he grabbed your wrist to stop you, “Over here. so, we’re not in the middle of the room yeah?” he said as he led you over to the closest locker.

you laughed when you looked up at the locker, “You want me to suck you off in front of Jamies locker?” you said, still following Roy over.

“Cmon,” Roy groaned, his cock pulsing in your hand as he reached his enemies spot in the locker room, “This would be the ultimate fuck you. the fuck yous of fuck you,” he said as the backs of his legs hit the bench.

your hand moved from his dick, much to Roys dismay, to hold his shoulders. Roy was about ready to call it quits when he felt you push down on his shoulders, making him sit down on the bench. you stayed stood for a moment, your hand tracing over his jaw, “You Roy Kent, are a petty bitch,” you said as you slowly moved down onto your knees making Roy somehow get even harder, “Who I love,”

“I’ve never loved you more,” Roy said as he watched you with awe. you rolled your eyes as you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his tip.

if you were going to do something so wrong you were going to do it right. you licked slow soft licks around his tip making Roy groan as his hand found its way into your hair, but he knew better than to rush you. he nearly gasped for air when he felt you lick down his shaft, your hand resting on the other side of his sensitive member.

you teased him for a few moments till you finally began to swirl your tongue around his tip before slowly sinking down his cock. Roy moaned, not caring if anyone was still here to hear him as your hands moved to cup his balls. his moans were all the encouragement you needed to keep going, your head bobbing down with an increasing pace as you felt his tip hit the back of your throat.

Roy felt like he could cum at any moment, but he wanted to enRoy this. his eyes were screwed up with pleasure but for some reason he felt the need to open them. when he did, he saw Jamie, standing at the other locker room door, his hand still on the handle and his jaw practically on the fucking floor.

having Jamie seeing this was somehow even better than him never knowing it happened. it took Jamie a moment to notice Roys eyes were open and when he met his captains eyes all Roy could do was smirk, leaning his head back to rest against the wall as Jamie stood there in awe. Roy wanted to enRoy this feeling, that was until he felt your cheeks hollow around his cock and his eyes screwed up in pleasure once more.

Roy knew he couldn’t wait any longer but when he went to tap your shoulder to tell you that, a signal you had decided upon months ago, you decided to keep going. Roy couldn’t contain himself any longer and he gasped as he felt himself spill his cum down your throat. your movements slowed but you didn’t pull your lips away till you had practically sucked all the life from the footballer.

when you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt, you looked up to Roy with those doe eyes he loved so fucking much. seeing them made him reach down, pulling you in by your jaw to kiss you harshly. you heard some kind of click and you pulled back, glancing behind you, “Did you hear something?” you asked, slowly getting up from your suddenly sore knees.

“Nah,” Roy said as he helped you stand, getting up himself and zipping back up, “But we should go. gotta get you home so I can repay the favour,” he said making you giggle and rush towards the door, Roy slapping your arse as you went making you fake scold your boyfriend.

as you walked the halls Roy briefly wondered if he had taken it too far but after all it was Jamie, so he didn’t worry. then he wondered why Jamie hadn’t confronted him? was it actually Jamie that had seen him or some orgasm angle? if Jamie had down that to him Roy would’ve fucked him across the room and kicked the living hell out of him.

it must’ve been someone else Roy thought, trying his best to act casual as he walked with you to the parking lot. however, when Roy opened the door for you to walk into the car park, he looked up to see Jamie, sat his car eyes closed. Roy barked a laugh at the sight, making your head spin around looking for what was funny.

however, Jamie had heard your boyfriends laugh and by the time you spotted his car it was speeding out of the parking lot. You looked after the car, head tilted, “Jamies a weird one,” you said as you unlocked your car, and all Roy could do was laugh. next practise was gonna be the cats’ pyjamas.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasson smut #ted lasso season one #roy kent #roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent x y/n #roy kent smut #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent x jamie tartt #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader

[asumofwords]

Treat - Ettore x Reader

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Somnophillia, rape, non-con, slight dub-con, masturbation, creepiness, sedation, assault, drugs, induced vomiting, blood, spitting, cum play, violence, degradation.

Pairings: Dark!Ettore x Reader  (It’s Ettore… come on)

Synopsis: The cold of space had nothing on the cool glare of Ettore, another inmate on the spacecraft you were sentenced to life on. At the mercy of the Doctor onboard, Dibs, all are a part of fertility experiments and used as test subjects. Said Doctor has increased your sedation dosage as part of the trials, what will happen when suspicions arise for the unusual things happening to your body?

Word Count: 6.1k

Notes: @targaryenrealnessdarling and @ewanmitchellcrumbs inspired this hedonistic fucking abomination by creating an obsession with a man I shouldn’t even like. This is DD:DNE territory, so you have been warned. I blame you both for making me so fucking feral for this man. Enjoy ;) <3

It was cold.

It’s not supposed to be cold, but it was. 

There was no way to keep out the chill of outer space. No way to keep the sub zero chill outside from seeping into metal ship you drifted in. No way to keep the unnatural of being in space away from your bones.

Your senses. 

There was heating, and it was warm enough inside for you to wear shorts and a shirt, some mandated clothing given to you, but even then, the artificial warmth couldn’t keep the chill from seeping into the walls or floors.

Or perhaps it was the chill of being watched. 

But you were always being watched, prisoner and a body for human experimental trials, or ‘guinea pigs’ as Boyse says, another inmate who hates being there just as much as you. She was sweet enough, but you kept her, like everyone else, at an arms length. 

Being put on the floating jail in space was a combination of a shit routine and being stuck with other not so great people. When you first arrived, you had kept to yourself, quiet, head down, methodical. You didn’t want trouble, you just wanted peace. And anything was better than the Super Max they had you in before back on Earth. 

So you were good.

Took your meds when told, took showers when commanded, ate and slept on the clock like a well trained pet. And sometimes, if you were feeling particularly inclined, which was more often than not, you found yourself in The Box. A crude space for you to go in and get out your ‘urges’.

'Fraternising' with the others was a big no no, but really, what were they going to do? Shoot you out the hull? You doubted it, and if you were honest, you didn’t care much either way.

You were going to die on this ship, lost in the same fucking routine for the rest of your days if you didn’t all go absolutely bat shit insane and cannibalise each other, which was a real fear Monte had whispered to you once.

Not much of a talker that one. 

But Ettore was worse. 

He barely even spoke a word. He just watched. 

Listened. 

Like he was sizing everyone up, writing invisible notes in his mind of who was who, and what was what. As though he was collecting intel from everyone like a secret government plant, or as though he was waiting to sell secrets, not that there really were any, all of you were there for crimes that warranted a life sentence. 

Death sentence in your case. 

And the way Ettore watched you, watched Boyse, or any of the other women on board, gave you an inkling as to what he may have done to deserve being locked up with the rest of you. 

But it didn’t stop you from being intrigued, nor casting an extra glance here or there to watch him. Pine over him even, bent over, shirtless scrubbing the floor, but what else were you to do? You hadn't been touched in months, maybe years, you couldn't tell how long it had been with no natural rise or set of the sun, and he wasn't bad on the eyes. Leaning against the wall of the hull, waiting for whoever it was in The Box to finish.

Because thats where he always was. 

The Box. 

You would say it bordered on slightly neurotic. Obsessive. Insatiable.

And it was the moments before he went in that really rivalled the chill of space.

His pale blue eyes would always find you.

Always.

And although it sent shivers down your spine in fear and disgust, it also settled a warmth within you too. 

It was hard. 

Not being able to touch anyone. 

Being surrounded by people, all day, all night, and not once having a chance to feel them. Hold them. Be with them. You had thought that perhaps Dibs would have at least let same sex interactions slide because there was no possible way for conception, but it was as if the bitch was edging herself. Or had some sick fetish of having everyone in a fucking cube strung out to shit in space. 

Not the smartest of moves to whoever gave this experiment the go ahead, but you had to give them props for their misplaced faith.

You padded down the hall, making your way to the Doctors office, ready to collect your meds; sleeping pills which knocked you flat on your ass about half an hour after ingesting them, and then go to bed.

You saw the door up ahead and sighed, it was not that you didn’t want to sleep, you just hated the idea of constantly being pumped with this shit.

Surely it wasn’t good for your body?

But then again, being in space and stuck where you were with no choice to go outside in fresh air, noting that there wasn’t any air outside the craft, wasn’t good for you either. 

Unnatural.

But it was all unnatural.

And in some ways, better than death row.

Sometimes.

Just as you moved to round the door, Ettore’s large body ducked beneath the frame, strolling right past you. His eyes flicked over your body quickly, predatorily, lashes blinking softly as he brushed past you and went on his way back to his cell. 

There was that cold again. 

It surrounded him like a wraith.

You slid into the room, Dibs barely sparing you a glance as you stood behind her, her long fingers fucking about on the table as she took her time to give you the meds you got from her at the same time, every fucking day. You thought that perhaps she may be a little more organised since all she did was sit around on her ass and be a prat.

But she wasn’t, and you waited, standing beside her as she swivelled in her stupid little chair to face you.

You had always had a pretty good read on people. Ever since you were young, you could spot the bad ones from the good, but it never really kept you away from the bad. Your ex's more bad than they were good.

It excited you, if you were going to be honest.

The rush of adrenaline, feeling of fear as your fight or flight would kick in when you looked at someone and just knew they had a more sinister part of them simmering beneath the surface.

And the moment you had spotted Ettore on the ship, being strapped in beside him, the alarm bells had rung in your head, blaring red DANGER behind your eyes. And you had felt the same fluttering in your chest as you felt his eyes on you the whole time.

But Dibs?

She was different.

There was something more malevolent than what meets the eye. Something that hid behind her dark gaze. And as you stood inside the make shift infirmary, doctors notes spread out on her table, shut curtains behind you, you felt as though perhaps you would have been safer stuck inside The Box with Ettore.

Dibs held out a small plastic cup to you, two pills inside.

Usually, it held one.

Your brows furrowed as you looked up at her.

"Changed dosage.” Was the only thing she offered you.

“Why?”

The Doctor blinked up at you with no answer, silence falling over you. You asked again, and were met with the same blank stare. And so you took the cup begrudgingly, snatching it from her hand and throwing the two little pills into the back of your mouth to dry swallow them. You could feel them catch on the back of your throat, sitting heavily like a lump, and so you swallowed once more to get them down. 

Dibs gave you a sterile smile, and turned away back to her notes, scribbling. 

You stomped away, walking back down the corridor to go to your cell, feeling the acidic, briny feeling on the back of your tongue.

No matter how many nights you had swallowed those things, it always made a bad taste settle in the back of your mouth, and a hollowness in your stomach.

When you had first arrived on the ship, you struggled to fall to sleep knowing that you were drifting in space, and couldn't get off even if you wanted, with the low hum of the ship in a constant drone keeping you alert, and so Dibs had given you sedatives to help you drift off.

There was already sedatives in the water Dibs gave you all, but the other girls in your cell followed suit soon enough, asking for the little pill so that they could sleep undisturbed in the night.

The closer you go to your room, the more your mind felt clouded, as though a thick layer of fog had crossed it, obscuring your thoughts and making each one feel as though they had been dipped inside a vat of molasses.

Even your limbs felt heavy, and so you hurried your uneven pace to your cell block, stumbling against a wall where you flopped down onto the bed, too exhausted to pull yourself beneath the sheets as the room around you spun. 

You could feel and hear the others making their way to their bunks after you, but your eyelids grew heavy, and soon enough, you were out like a light. As though a switch had been flicked by the manicured nails of Dibs.

There were no dreams to be had, not even an awareness of sleep, just a deep, black abyss that swallowed you whole and completely, with neither complaint nor fight from your limbs. 

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you noticed was how tired you still were, as though the medication still lingered in your periphery like dark little tendrils that rubbed smooth and soothing hands upon your mind, trying to lure you back.

But the day had to move on, and you were unstrapped from your bed, limbs feeling entirely too heavy to lift as you hauled yourself out. You didn't understand the need for the restraints, especially since you would be sedated and unable to move anyway, but you supposed they were there to keep you put in case you did.

Behavioural issues and that.

Who knows what the others had done to warrant a death row sentence. Yours certainly wasn't a light one.

The moment your feet hit the ground, your stomach lurched. Pain rippling up through your stomach. 

What the hell?

You rubbed your face blearily and sighed, chalking it up to your period making an appearance early this month, or perhaps Dibs' experiments had finally stuck, or were melting your insides by the feel of it.

Dibs was going to have a field day with you, you knew it. You would have your legs pried open by stirrups and have her shove a million and one swabs inside of you like she did every month.

Like clockwork.

Well, cycle really.

You hated it.

Another thing to add to the misery of it all; being prodded by a stone faced bitch who only showed kindness to the men on board. Couldn't even get off to the way she shoved those cotton swabs or fingers inside you, fishing around as if she was going through a pocket for spare change.

Except this pain was sharp, and stung, but was dulled by whatever lingering sleeping pill was dragging your body down. You would have to tell the eager Doctor to be more gentle about turkey basting you with whoever's cum she picked from her cups.

Boyse had told you once she could have sworn she saw Dibs dipping her fingers into the 'donation' cups to taste test each one. You had laughed so hard you cried, and Monte had eyed you from across the canteen.

You yawned and stretched, ignoring the ache and hit the showers with the others, beginning your day of chores.

Today you were cleaning, something you actually didn’t mind. It was methodical, time consuming, and there was a clear outcome at the end that you enjoyed. 

Cloth and cleaner in hand, you polished handles and doors and any surface that you could reach, wiping down the metal and other surfaces to sterilise them.

Boyse was on floor duty that day, and so she cleaned alongside you quietly, the occasional whisper or conversation had as you moved. But you truly struggled to hold one, your mind still muddled from the lurch of the changed dose.

You would need to speak about lowering said dosage back to normal with Dibs. This was like trying to think and exist when shitfaced at the pub.

God you missed the pub.

It was the little things you missed most. Things that you had taken for granted, like wind, or rain, or bugs. You missed the itch of being bitten. How fucked was that? Missing mosquitoes? Dibs needed to check your head rather than your fertility.

And so the day ended, and every surface in one wing of the ship was spotless thanks to yours and Boyse’s work. You ate alongside the others quietly and couldn’t help but feel that chill again, covering you in an icy blanket.

Lifting your head, you spotted Ettore watching you. 

Still.

Like those nature documentaries you used to watch, when the lions would be hidden in the tall grass, still as a rock, watching and waiting to pounce on the galloping gazelle.

Your mouth felt dry, and the hunger you had felt left, pain winding its way inside of you as you stood slowly, careful to not set anyone off, especially him, and moved to clear your plate to go to Dr. Dibs.

You were more eager to get away from Ettore’s piercing gaze than anything, feeling like a game of cat and mouse, waiting to turn your head and see him chasing after you down the halls. It set your skin alight.

But he didn't.

Your journey to speak to the doctor about your dosage was a waste. Dibs didn’t budge, and in your hand ,the small pill tub was dropped with two inside.

You watched her intently, mouth parted to argue.

“You done yet?” Ettore’s voice swallowed the artificial air in the room. 

Your head snapped to the door, watching as he slowly walked in, like a predator, looking at you intently. You blinked up at him, his lean form towering over you in the sterile cream room. You could smell the soft scent of generic soap you all used and the musky undertones of him beneath.

“I want my treat.” He spoke again, hand held out to Dibs, who placed a pill in his palm, no cup holding it. Simply placed into his palm with her fingers, as though there was an element of familiarity between the two. 

The cold of his gaze contrasted the warmth of his body as it loomed over you.

Dibs spun on her chair to look at you through her lashes, eyes dropping pointedly to the pills still un-swallowed in your cup, “Take them.”

You threw the pills into the back of your throat, locking eyes with Ettore as you dry swallowed them, holding back the grimace as they slid down the back of your throat roughly. Ettore followed, smacking his palm over his mouth as he swallowed his own, then turning his head to open his mouth in show to Dibs, who gave him a soft smile. 

“Smashing. Thank you.” He spoke down to her, accent thick on his tongue. His eyes flicked over you once more before he sauntered out the room.

Your feet felt stuck on the linoleum flooring until Dibs cleared her throat at you, “Go back to your cell.”

Taking her command, you left, winding down the corridor, falling onto your bed again and succumbing to the heavy sleep. 

This went on for days, the same dosage, the same medicated sedation, and the same groggy rising with a continued ache that never seemed to leave your core. You waited for the blood to come, but there was only the occasional bit of spotting. 

Perhaps a lighter cycle this month.

It wasn’t until that morning, when you went to the showers did you notice something was not right. Something that justified the inkling in the back of your mind that something was afoot with the pain that wracked your body.

That the pain wasn’t due to your monthly cycle, and something far more sinister instead.

Washing down with soap, the others in their cubicles beside you, your eyes were drawn to colour that should not be on the skin. Dark blotches of purples and blue, streaked with pinks across your hips and inner thighs. Your fingers pressed into them, hissing as pain shot up through you. But the pain wasn’t what made you blanch. It was the shape of them. And how your fingers fit perfectly within the large blooms of colour. 

Fingerprints. 

More specifically, finger marks, littered across your body. 

Your heart raced in your chest as you looked at them, horror and sickness skyrocketing inside of you. Bile rose in your throat, and the urge to scrub your skin raw became an immediate compulsion, your nails scratching at the bruises roughly. 

Dressing rapidly, you raced to the Doctors office, shoes not even on as your feet slapped on the floor loudly as you made your way down. But of course, whatever high power above controlled the fate that surrounded you had other plans for you, and your body collided with a body of steel. 

You neck craned up, meeting the icy glare of Ettore.

“Watch it.” He sneered down at you, hands at his sides in fists.

You didn’t know what to do but blink at him, and it was all you did, looking up at the man who set your skin alight, a blush creeping along your cheeks and fear shimmering down your spine.

“You gonna move?” He asked again, lips pulled into a sharp frown.

You took a step back, then another, and another, Ettore’s eyes grazing over your body, settling on your chest as it heaved, wet patches of your shirt sticking to your skin.

You swallowed thickly.

“Quiet one, huh.” Ettore mused, eyes becoming half hooded as he watched you, “They always scream the loudest.”

You sneered, watching as Ettore walked towards you, leaning his head down just a bit as he whispered to you, “I’ll be in The Box.” Before he was on his way, body swaying with his walk. 

Your heart leaped through your chest as you watched him.

-

“Somethings wrong.” You sat on the doctors bed, legs in stirrups as Dibs looked at you in annoyance, clinical eyes roving your body as you pulled your shorts high on your hips to display the bruises on your thighs. 

Dibs didn’t even blink at them, just glanced at them shortly before writing in her notes.

“Something is-“

“-Vitamin D deficiency, Iron deficiency.”

“Fuck you. It looks li-“

“Take these.” 

Her hand was held out to you, a small circular brown pill and an oblong pink one sat inside a medical cup. You blinked at her hand as she held them out to you.

“I don’t fucking-“

“-Take them. Or you will be marked as refusing treatment.”

Snatching the cup from her palm, your own nails scratching her hand, you threw them back into your mouth, staring at her angrily as you swallowed them.

“Good girl.” Dr. Dibs spun in her chair away from you and back to her desk, already looking through her notes in dismissal. 

You swung your legs out of the stirrups and sat on the edge of the bed looking at her, staring daggers into the back of her head. 

It could be so easy. 

Who would know it was you?

You could just-

“Are you refusing to leave now too? Very naughty of you. Monte will have to come deal with this behaviour, little birdy.” Came her slimy voice.

"Fuck you."

Grunting, you hopped off the bed and stormed out the room, muttering beneath your breath in agitation and anger as it poured out of you. 

"Fucking bitch."

Something was wrong, and you knew it. 

Fucking useless cunt.

You went back to your chores, but found that you could scarcely concentrate with the anger that seemed to mount within.

You needed a release, and fast. 

The Box was made for just such thing, and so you dropped the clippers in your palm in the garden and made your way to your destination. The anticipation of going into The Box made way for excitement over the anger, but all in all, it still rippled through you in waves.

All you needed was a good and rough fuck.

Get the anger out.

Your ex was always a good source of inspiration when inside The Box. The way his hips would snap into yours brutally, his teeth in your flesh, hands slapping, pinching.

Choking.

The Box would calm you down.

Your legs carried you down the ladder before you jumped down the last few impatiently, the light in this part of the ship far darker than the rest. You walked forward, looking at the closed door before feeling ice wash over you.

Who else would be waiting outside of it but Ettore.

His cool eyes flicked to yours as your steps slowed, looking to him and then the closed door. His lips pursed together into a pout and one corner pulled down into a smirk. 

Shit eating bastard.

He leant back against the steel wall of the hull, head turned to look down at you as you leant beside him. Too frustrated to turn back, and not willing to let him scare you out of a reprieve that you needed. 

“Gonna be waiting a while.” Ettore hummed, suggestive grin on his lips before he swiped a tongue against the front of his teeth noisily.

You looked him up and down, no mood for his attitude or creeping glares, “You look like it’d be quick.” You purred.

Ettore’s nostrils flared and his lips pulled down into a sneer, he pushed off of the wall, looking down at you as he adjusted his jaw, the muscles clenching tightly, blue eyes narrowed. 

Your head connected with the metal behind you as he jerked you back into it roughly, forearm pressed against the top of your chest. Pain bloomed in the back of your skull, but that didn’t stop the small mewl that escaped from your lips.

Ettore’s eyes widened before they narrowed, face looming in closer to you as he watched your chest rise and fall rapidly, heat blooming in your stomach. 

The door to The Box opened and Boyse stepped out, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. 

Ettore stepped back dropping his arm to his side as he spun around and entered, facing you as the doors began to close, his eyes roaming down your body slowly as he sucked his tongue. 

A shiver rolled through you.

Boyse watched you carefully, “You right?”

You cleared your throat, feeling your heart beat like a drum in your chest, “Yea, I’m alright. Asshole.”

Boyse nodded and left, and you waited for your turn, waiting for the door to open again, but it didn’t. 

The moments flew by and it almost felt as if he was taking his time because of your comment. Punishing you.

Proving a point.

Fucking cunt. 

You huffed and pushed away from the wall, making your way back to work again, knowing that dinner would be soon, and then the deep and dreamless sleep once more. 

Dinner was quick, and in no time you were walking down to collect your sedatives from the Doctor who made your skin crawl almost as badly as Ettore. Your mood had not improved, and you would say that the want that simmered inside of you made it even worse now that it had gone unattended.

When you entered the infirmary, Ettore was already there, talking quietly with Dibs who was seated, craning her neck up to look at him with a soft smile on her lips.

Fucking pick-me.

Upon hearing your arrival, both turned to face you, and Ettore instinctually held out his hand, a pill placed in its palm, before it put it in his mouth, his eyes on you, narrowed and almost angry. But when he looked down at the doctor, a soft smirk wound its way on his lips and he whispered a small ‘thank you’ to her, brushing past you with a sniff on his way out.

You held out your palm in the same manner he had, eyes still on the door Ettore had walked out of, feeling the plastic of the small cup being placed in the centre. You looked down at it.

Two sedatives.

"You're a fucking bitch, you know that?" You grumbled, and tilted your head back, letting the two pills roll onto your tongue, Dibs eyes watching. 

But there was something about it. 

Something about her watching you like that, that made you shiver. 

“Show me.” She commanded and you swallowed both dryly, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue obscenely at her so that she could get a closer look.

The Doctor nodded and turned away, back to her notes. 

But fear scrambled in your throat.

You all but raced out of the office, making your way straight to the toilet, dropping to your knees in front of it as your instincts took over, shoving two fingers down your throat. You gagged quietly in the space, daring to not draw attention to what you were doing. 

You did it again, and the bile and bitter taste of stomach acid flooded your tongue. You bent over the rim gasping, looking down into the water to see if the pills were in the bowl with your dinner. 

You spotted one and collapsed down onto the floor feeling some sort of relief, though your stomach still turned, and bile coated your tongue. You sat there for a moment, feeling the cool of the bathroom floor on your thighs and hands before standing.

You couldn’t get caught. 

You flushed the toilet and brushed your teeth carefully, cupping water into your mouth to rinse the acidic taste that settled behind your teeth. And yet still, you were still wrought with nerves.

As you lay in your bed, bottom bunk opposite to Boyse, you stared up at the top one, the restraints strapping you down by your arms as the beginnings of sedated fatigue gnawed at your vision. 

So you had only gotten one pill out. 

No matter.

Better than both.

At least it calmed your heart, and you turned your head to look at Boyse who was already out like a light, the soft curve of her nose shadowed in the dim of the room.

You wondered what she was here for often, but never had the courage or want to learn. 

Some things are better left unsaid.

You tried to resist it, tried to fight the way your eyelashes sagged and your limbs fell heavier by the second, but in no time at all, you were sucked into the usual dreamless state that you had been in for god knows how long you had been on that goddamn ship.

-

It’s dark. 

So dark.

And warm. 

Soft pressing in the back of your mind, drawing you just below the surface of consciousness. 

Why was it so warm?

There was pressure. 

Pressure on top of you. 

Pressure inside of you.

A thing.

Or two.

Maybe three.

What?

The pressure turned to a dull ache. 

A pain.

Pleasure?

Why was it so warm?

It curled in your gut and you groaned, mind foggy, limbs of stone as you felt the weight of your body come back to you. Come back to the room. 

The bed.

Soft sheets.

Grunts.

Weight.

Warm. 

Pain in your thighs. Pain between them. Weight on top of you. 

Breaths in your ear that are not your own. 

Grunts.

Moans.

Hisses.

Eyelids feeling like lead as they fluttered, the sound around you louder, rustling, wet, clapping, breathing. 

The room spun on its axis, mind reeling as you were pulled from the depths of your sedated sleep, your body reacting to whatever was being done to it. 

It was hard.

Hard to stay awake.

You drifted again, bobbing beneath the surface only to rise back up again, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks. Blurred vision making it hard to focus.

Heavy mind making it hard to comprehend.

Hard to see.

“Whas-“ You slurred, head being rocked backwards by movements, making the nausea that rose within stronger, barreling through you with a spearing sensation.

A loud grunt in your ear as the jolting of your body picked up. Something moving inside of you.

Atop you.

You could see movement above you, hair, a body.

A face.

Ettore.

You blinked, his sharp jawline coming into focus, comprehension wading through the thick fog of your mind as you continued to look up at him, mind reeling to figure out what was going on.

Eyes half lidded, lips pulled down into a sneer, Ettore rutted into you from above. 

“Wha-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled, hand slapping over your lips as he fucked into you. 

Your eyes widened, pain blooming through you, strength dulled, senses foggy, but knowing. 

Knowing. 

You knew now.

Ettore’s length fucked into you roughly, the tip beating against your cervix painfully. The stretch stung as he drilled into you, splitting you apart on his cock. Each thrust was just as brutal as the other, the sound of his hips clapping against yours loud in the cell of the others sedated, still in their dreams.

Was this a dream?

It felt too real. 

You writhed beneath him sluggishly, trying to get out of his grip, breathing heavily through your nose as his hand stayed pressed against your mouth, small whimpers and grunts spilling into his palm as his cock bullied your walls repeatedly.

Ettore watched your face, lips pulling up into a smile as he gave a particularly harsh thrust, your eyes scrunching shut in pain as you yelped, sensing you had come fully to the surface of consciousness to feel the truth of his assault.

Pain pinged up you, your walls clamping down on him as your hips tried to angle away from him, restraints cutting into the skin of your wrists, legs too heavy to lift. Tugging at them for dear life as he watched you struggle from below. He laughed, deep in his chest before a groan fell from his swollen lips, eyes closing in pleasure with his mouth hung open.

You tried to scream beneath him palm, to try and wake the others, to call for help, for anything. But the hand at your mouth did not budge, and so the muffled sound of your cries fell on sedated ears. Tears prickled in your eyes from the pain as you tried to shake your head away from him, mouth opening. 

You bit down on his palm.

Hard.

Ettore cursed, flinching as he pulled his hand away from your face, fist reeling back before it connected painfully into the side of your mouth.

You could taste blood. Coppery on your tongue, and you didn’t know if it was his or yours. Probably a mixture of the two. But your bite did not deter him, and his thrusts only became crueler, your body jolting beneath him as you felt wet beneath your hips. 

How long had he been doing this?

How many times had he done this?

But the wet was not just from the man above you. 

It also came from you.

Small sparks of pleasure wound its way up through your gut as he rutted into you in fervent, animalistic thrusts. Each one a sharp grunt or hiss falling from his lips. Each one, his tip bullying the soft and sponge spot within you. Each thrust winding the coil within tighter and tighter.

Ettore slapped your cheek, a small cry falling from your lips as you looked up at him, tears running down your cheeks as you sobbed quietly. 

From the pain. 

From the shock.

From the pleasure.

“Fuck you’re tight.” He growled, “Fucking dirty bitch.”

Another sob, mouth opened to cry out. 

His lips pursed, and warmth sprayed across your face, the wet of his spit landing across cheeks and lips, hand coming to grab your jaw painfully as he squeezed, the joints protesting with pops as he continued, no doubt bruises to be seen in the morning. 

Your walls fluttered around him, each snap of his hips grazing your swollen clit sending euphoria racing up your spine.

It was all too much. 

“Look at you.” He sneered at you meanly, “Gonna cum on my cock aren’t you? Feel you tightening up. Fuck. So fucking disgusting. Asking for it. Always looking at me with those fucking eyes. Take it.”

It was a peel of words that continued to fall from his lips, his hips stuttering as his pace faltered. 

He was near his end, and you were too. 

With two hands, he wrapped them around your neck, leaning his weight down on it as he fucked into you, black spots blooming in your vision as he cut off both air and blood supply. You wheezed beneath him, thrashing against the restraints, hands in fists as they rubbed the skin raw.

You felt light, airy as you looked up at him, the lead of your limbs lifting with the lack of oxygen, the angle he fucked you in having changed, and each rut of his hips jabbed against your G-spot violently.

“Take it, you fucking cunt.” He growled, your eyes fluttering shut as you began to feel weightless, beginning to drift back to your sleep. A nice sleep. Comfortable one. Soft and warm and-

You came violently, a silent cry ripped from your throat, eyes shooting open as you looked up at the man who bit his bottom lip roughly, eyebrows knotted together as he fucked you through it. 

The hands left your throat, gasp sucked into your lungs as you writhed beneath him, his thrusts pulling painful pleasure from you as his hips stuttered, one hand clawing at your hip, the other tugging your head back by your hair, exposing your neck to him. 

Ettore came with a grunt, head dipping down to bite into the sensitive skin in the crux of your shoulder, teeth piercing the skin as you whimpered below him.

Hot ropes of his cum filled your walls, his thrusts stilling as you felt him throb within you, teeth still in your neck that he lapped at with his tongue, breathing hotly through his nose against the skin.

Another tear fell down your cheek as you lay beneath him, staring up at the cool, darkened grey of the ceiling. Pain and pleasure swirling around each other hotly in your core and gut, walls still fluttering around him from your own release. 

You swallowed dryly, throat hoarse from where he choked you and wriggled beneath him, stirring his rest as he grunted into your neck, finally releasing the skin from his teeth. Small incisions and blooming bruise beginning to take its spot there, a dribble of blood leaking from where a crooked tooth pinched flesh between another.

He huffed above you as the world spun, slowly pulling out of you. You whimpered and half whined, feeling sensitive. Stinging pain and pleasure winding its way around your entrance.

Too much.

Ettore sat back on his haunches, cock softening in front of him as he looked down at you, fully naked. Your eyes roamed his body, muscular and lean all in one, watching you with lust filled eyes and hatred. 

Another tear dripped down your cheek as his eyes roamed down your body, to the torn shorts he had ripped to the side, watching as his spend leaked out of you. His hand shot out, scooping fingers through your folds as you hissed, playing with his cum and smearing it into your folds and along your thighs. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, nausea turning painfully in your stomach as he moved to loom over you, looking down at your tear streaked cheeks and the blood on your split lip, bits of his saliva dried on your face from where he had spat on you.

His lips pulled into a smirk, sticky fingers coming to smear themselves on your cheek as he pulled your shorts back into place, adjusting you roughly beneath him.

“Wasn’t too quick for you I hope.” He mocked, giving your face a rough tap before he stood, pulling on his pants and shirt as he looked down at you, chest heaving as you cried quietly, adrenaline pumping through you.

His eyebrows lifted on his face, grinning once he was dressed, grabbing your face in his hand and shaking it as he cooed at you.

“Good girl.” Another tap.

He left without another word, leaving you strapped to your bed, body aching and bruised as his cum leaked out of you, pooling wetly into the crotch of your shorts. You could still feel him inside you, thrusting atop you, his breath fanned in your ears. 

You sucked in a steeling breath, shaking in the restraints, skin raw and bleeding in some places where you tugged too hard, pulled too violently as you shook beneath him, pleasure exploding within. 

You didn't drift back to sleep, no matter how hard you tried, the sedative had worn off and adrenaline kept you alert. 

You simply laid in your bunk, in your cell, surrounded by people who were none the wiser to your attack, sleeping soundly in their own restrained cots as your eyes stayed to the doorway, waiting for him to return. 

Knowing that he would.

And not minding it either.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to any tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3

Taglist: @hiraethrhapsody @hogwarts1207 @notnormalthings-blog @iamavailablesstuff @youraverageaemondsimp @mochi-rose @bel-bottoms @sassypain @triscy @watercolorskyy @moonliightbabes @toodlesxcuddles @avataranne @tosiaf @bunnychuu @malfoytargaryen @tssf-imagines @qyburnsghost

#ettore high life #ettore #ettore x reader #ettore smut #smut #ewan mitchell #ettore x you #Ettore x Reader #Ettore x Y/n #Ettore fanfiction #High Life Fanfiction #ettore fic #dead dove do not eat #ettore crack #i need a lobotomy #high life fanfiction #ettore imagine #high life fic #high life crack #high life ettore #high life smut #asumofwords

[beskarandblasters]

Wherever You Stray, I Follow

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Inspired by Willow by Taylor Swift

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Summary: You’re the daughter of a senator on Coruscant and you’ve been set up in an arranged marriage to another senator’s son for both your father and his father’s political gain. Your father hires Din Djarin to transport you to Naboo where you’re supposed to meet your fiancé’s family and prepare for the wedding. On the trip to Naboo you form a relationship together in secret but after you arrive on Naboo he’s hired to be your bodyguard up until the wedding. But will you actually go though with the wedding? That’s for you and Din to decide.

Word count: 10k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, no Grogu, Din still has the Razor Crest, arranged marriage, your family sucks, your fiancé is a dick, infidelity, fingering, vaginal sex, cockwarming, creampie, semi public sex? (idk they do it on a balcony), canon typical violence, helmetless Din, use of Mando'a words/phrases (translations included immediately after), also a "made up" Mando'a phrase (alor'ika = princess, I took alor which is ruler and added the suffix, ika), pretty sure the travel times used are not accurate but fuck it we ball LMAO, no use of y/n

“I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night

Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife

And if it was an open-shut case

I never would've known from that look on your face

Lost in your current like a priceless wine”

You gaze down at the sea of speeders beneath you as you stand on your balcony on Coruscant. The industrialized planet is a far cry from your home, Savareen. You never thought in your wildest dreams you would miss the deserts and the oceans of your home planet but now that you moved to Coruscant you’re missing it now more than ever. Your father decided he wanted a career in politics so he moved your family to Coruscant. You definitely could live on your own back home but your father wanted everyone together for his “political image” or whatever. 

You hear your father calling your name behind you so you look over your shoulder to find him and an unknown man standing across the room. 

“I want to introduce you to Senator Lokato,” he says. 

You turn to walk over to them, and notice that Senator Lokato is wearing the typical senator “uniform”; dark colored robes that go all the way down to the floor. Senator Lokato’s are a dark gray and your father’s are navy blue. It’s weird seeing your father trying to fit in with these types of people. 

“Hello. Nice to meet you,” you say awkwardly, not really understanding what your business was with him.

“I know you’ve been struggling to make friends and meet others your age here so we thought you’d like to meet his son.”

“...Okay,” you say hesitantly, following them down the hallway and into your parent’s living room. 

There’s a man sitting on the couch who you can only assume is Senator Lokato’s son. He’s about your age, maybe a few years older. He rises when he sees you and walks to meet you in the middle of the room. 

“I’m Valsi. Pleased to meet a lovely lady like yourself,” he says, giving you a suggestive smirk. 

Maybe you would be flattered by his forward nature if he weren’t so… plain looking. He’s a little taller than you, a tad muscular and just so… plain. He’s got the kind of eyes that are just soulless and he bares a striking resemblance to his father. 

“Nice to meet you, too,” you offer politely. 

“Well, we’ll let you two get to know each other,” Senator Lokato says, clapping his hands together.

“Yes, have fun you two!” your father says a bit too cheerily before leaving with Lokato.

“Please, sit,” Valsi says… in your own home. 

You sit on the couch, keeping your body language tight and uninviting. The more you see of this guy the more you realize you’re not gonna want anything to do with him.

“I’m not sure what your father has told you but I have family on Naboo. We could raise the children there, of course. We can bring them to visit Savareen, too. But… a more civilized place like Naboo is better. And Coruscant is too busy for small children. Maybe we could relocate here when they’re older? But-”

“Excuse me?” you ask. You were zoning out at the sound of his monotone voice until he started mentioning children. 

“Well of course we’re going to have children?” he says, in a tone that makes it sound like you’re the stupid one.

“Of course we’re going to have children? We don’t know each other. I literally just met you today,” you snap back. 

“Oh, I see. Your father didn’t tell you. We’re getting married.”

“You’re funny if you think I’m getting married to you,” you laugh.

“You can laugh all you want but our fathers already made a deal. We get married in a month,” he says, folding his arms.

The realization is settling in. Your father was trying to get you to “make friends” alright. He’s trying to sell you off to some man for his own political game. You should’ve seen this coming. Ever since your father has become a member of the Senate he’s been obsessed with perfecting his image and gaining more public approval.

“You might be okay being a puppet for your father but I’m certainly not,” you snap, getting up and storming over to the door. 

As you enter the hallway you see your father and Lokato who were clearly listening in on your interaction. You scoff at them both and stomp off your bedroom.

“She’ll come around,” you hear your father say softly before closing the sliding door behind you. 

You fall into your bed and start crying; the weight of everything hitting you all at once. Between being forced to leave your home planet, moving to a strange new place and now all of a sudden being shoved into an arranged marriage you’re feeling completely hopeless. 

Eventually you drift off to sleep, your own tears aiding you in the process. Your dreams are filled with your home planet and of travels all on your own, with no one forcing you to go anywhere or do anything. It almost feels too real because when you wake up you forget the horrors of reality for a moment. 

You get changed into a silky pale blue dress before returning to the living room. That was another thing about your father’s new found political life; your wardrobe was completely different. Gone were the days of flowy pants, boots and earth tones. Now your wardrobe consists of extravagant gowns, robes and jewelry. It’s all very beautiful and maybe just maybe you could enjoy your new look if it wasn’t being forced upon you. 

You find your father sitting on the couch, reading something on his holo-pad. When he notices your presence he looks up and shoots you a faux sympathetic glance. You sit on the opposite end of the couch silently, not even knowing what to say to the man who’s trying to strip you of your bodily autonomy. 

“I’m sorry, my dear. I just think this is what’s best for us. The Lokatos are very well off. You’ll be set for life,” he says, setting the holo-pad down on the table in front of him.

“You’re forcing me to marry someone I don’t know… let alone even love! I really don’t care how rich they are,” you say, folding your arms. 

“It’s for the best. Especially if you want to maintain this new lifestyle that you’ve become accustomed to.”

“You mean the one that you forced upon us? If I were up to me I would be home right now,” you fight back.

He sighs, not looking to listen to any more of your protests. 

“Look, Valsi left today to go visit his family on Naboo. After he gets some business sorted there you’re going to meet him. You’ll be leaving tomorrow. I’ve hired someone to take you there, some Mandalorian. You leave tomorrow.”

You scoff and get up, retreating to your room where you go to bed again, wallowing in your own sadness until you decide to pack for the next day. Your parents call you for dinner but you decline, not wanting to see them but also too upset to eat. You go to bed that night and have a dream that this Mandalorian takes you anywhere else but Naboo. It’s a shame really. You’ve heard how beautiful Naboo is and under any other circumstances you’d be jumping at the chance to go. But when you’re going under the pretense of meeting your arranged husband and his family, you can think of a million other places you’d rather be. 

You wake up the next morning and get ready for your journey, the nerves brewing in your stomach. You meet your father in the living room again without saying a word to him. He sends for a servant to collect your bag before leading you to the docking bay. You don’t say a word to him the whole way there. He makes attempts at small talk, telling you how much you’re going to love Naboo and how you’re going to have such a good time. But you can’t be bothered to entertain him. 

You reach the docking bay and in front of you is a large ship; a Razor Crest your father tells you. The exit ramp opens and that’s when you see him walking towards you; a Mandalorian in full beskar, silver and shiny. He has a sort of confidence about him when he walks that commands the attention of anyone nearby. 

“Mando!” your father says happily as he stops in front of the both of you, “Thanks for agreeing to do this.”

“Half the credits, the other half after the job is done, right?” he says, making no time for pleasantries. His modulated voice scratches an itch in your brain you didn’t know was there. 

“O-of course,” your father stutters, pulling out a small bag from his robes. 

The Mandalorian takes it and nods with a slight tip of his helmet. 

“Let’s go,” he says curtly, turning and walking back towards the Razor Crest. 

He seems… unpleasant. And you’re going to have to spend several days with him alone holed up in this ship. Great. 

Your father goes for a hug but you rebuff him, walking to the ship without looking back. The servant follows with your bags and drops them off before leaving. The Mandalorian closes the exit ramp and retreats to the cockpit without saying a word. You follow him and sit in the passenger seat. You watch him prepare the ship for takeoff while he doesn’t say a single word to you. So offer some conversation.

“So… Do you always do stuff like this?” you ask.

“Stuff like what?” he replies, not looking at you.

“Transporting people around.”

“No. I’m a bounty hunter.”

“Really? How’d you get roped into this?”

“Credits,” he says plainly.

“Hope that it was worth it…” you grumble under your breath.

He turns his seat around and the T-shaped visor practically burns a hole into you. You can’t see his face but you can feel his stone cold gaze and it sends shivers through you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re taken aback. Is he actually offended by your snide little comment?

“You’re bringing me to Naboo to meet my soon-to-be husband. The whole thing is a forced, arranged marriage. Did you know that?” you say defensively, folding your arms across your chest.

“No, I don’t ask questions like that. All I need to know is that I’m bringing a princess to Naboo and how much I’ll be paid.”

“I’m not a princess,” you scoff.

“Whatever you say, princess,” he says, turning to face the control panel again.

You let out an exasperated sigh and he finishes preparing the ship for takeoff. He straps himself in and asks if you’re strapped in, too. 

“You buckled up, princess?” 

“Yup.”

He takes off and you look at Coruscant below as you leave, pretending you’re going anywhere you want and not with some grumpy Mandalorian. 

Once you’ve left the atmosphere you ask, “So how long is it going to be until we get to Naboo?”

“About seven standard days,” he says nonchalantly.

Great. Seven days of being holed up in this cramped ship with him. 

He makes the jump to lightspeed and you’re enveloped in a cool blue glow.

“You can unbuckle now. I’ve set an auto pilot course for Naboo. We shouldn’t need to stop for fuel if all goes well.”

Pretty much as soon as he said the word “unbuckle” you were leaving the cockpit to go stretch your legs. You only half listened to the rest of what he’s saying. To be honest, you don’t really care for him. 

You pace up and down the storage area of the Crest for what feels like forever, wondering what kinds of weapons and gadgets he has stowed away in there. You sit on some crates and mess around on your holo-pad for a while. It’s really fucking boring and Mando isn’t one for small talk. 

He keeps to himself mostly, periodically checking in on you as you keep yourself entertained. He doesn’t really have an opinion on you just yet. He assumes you think he doesn’t like you but that’s just how he is with everyone; a little standoffish. He watches you as you pace the storage area and tries to ignore the way your hips sway when you walk; or the way your brows furrow when you read something on your holo-pad. You’re just so… cute to him, in your pretty dress that hugs your figure perfectly. In all honesty, he feels bad for you, too. Once he learned you were set to be in an arranged marriage his apathy towards you started shifting into something else. 

Eventually it’s the end of the first day cycle and he realizes you should probably get to bed soon. He sits beside you on a crate you’re reading your holo-pad on and says gently, “You need to sleep.”

He half expected a snarky response or some form of protest from you but you just yawn and let out a soft, “Okay.”

He leads you to the cot across the room in a little cubby. 

“It’s a little small but it should be alright for you,” he says.

“What about you? Where are you going to sleep?” you ask. 

His chest gets tight over your concern for him. 

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But where are you going to sleep?” you ask, not letting it go.

“...The floor? Or maybe in one of the seats in the cockpit,” he says reluctantly. 

“That’s ridiculous. Just sleep in here with me.”

His mind is spinning at the thought of sleeping on the cot with you. But he also wants to respect your personal space. You’re engaged to someone else whether it’s arranged or not.

As if you could read his mind you say, “We’re both adults here. I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t comfortable with it.”

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. 

You excuse yourself to the refresher to change into your pajamas; a soft oversized shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. He removes his armor and weapons in the meantime, leaving only his flight suit and his helmet on. You crawl into the cot with him and it’s a tight squeeze. You figure out the most comfortable position is him spooning you, his large arm draped over your side. You get a glimpse of his gloveless hand and make a mental note of his skin tone; the only indication you have of what he looks like underneath all the beskar. It’s large and calloused, most likely from years of working with his hands. 

“So… Do you ever take the helmet off?” you ask. 

“Only when I’m alone.”

“So if I wasn’t here right now, you could take it off,” you say, feeling guilty. 

He doesn’t say anything. If he answers with a yes you’re just going to feel bad. And it isn’t your fault. He chose to follow the creed. 

“I should sleep somewhere else. Just so you can take that thing off and have a chance to really breathe,” you say, starting to get up.

His arm around you tightens. He doesn’t want you to leave. It’s nice having someone else to lay with; to sleep with, regardless of the fact you’re engaged to someone else. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” he says softly, “I’m used to it.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Yes, mesh’la. Go to sleep.”

Mesh’la? What does that mean? You feel sleep overtaking you so you decide to ask in the morning. You drift off to sleep with the sounds of his modulated breathing soothing you.

He wakes up before you and admires how peaceful you look, eyes closed and lashes fanned out against your face. He could stay there for a while, taking in all of your beauty but he needs to get up and check on the autopilot. He gets out of the cot; careful to not disturb you. He replaces his armor and his weapons before retreating to the cockpit. He checks to make sure the Crest is still on course and tries to ignore the excitement brewing in his stomach.

You wake up in the morning and he’s gone. You’re shocked for a moment but then you remember he’s probably just in the cockpit. You get up and stretch before going to meet him in the cockpit. The blue light whizzing by around you makes it feel like it’s not morning; like no time has passed. You sit in one of the passenger seats, not saying a word to him. 

“How did you sleep?” he asks softly. 

“Good… How did you sleep?”

“Good,” he says awkwardly. 

“Okay well… I think I’m gonna use the refresher?” you say, more so in an asking tone. 

“Go right ahead,” he says, turning his seat to face you. 

You catch a glimpse of your reflection in his helmet and notice your bedhead. Feeling embarrassed you retreat to the refresher and spend a while in there, letting the warm water soothe you. You change into a new dress when you’re done, this one lower cut than the one from yesterday. You step out of the refresher and back into the storage area, almost bumping right into him. 

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize. 

But he doesn’t say a word, admiring your beauty once again; fresh faced with wet hair… and of course the hint of cleavage peeking out from your dress. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? you wonder, Did I do something to upset him?

“Y-you should eat,” he says, tripping on his words ever so slightly.

“Okay…You should, too.”

“Okay,” he says, turning to grab some rations for both of you.

“We just have to eat separately,” he says.

“Of course! Where do you want me?”

Against me, under me, he thinks to himself.

“You stay out here. I’ll go on the cot and shut the door,” he says.

You nod and he hands you your ration before going into the cubby and closing the door. You sit on the floor and lean back against it, wanting to feel close to him for some strange reason… And then you realize your own apathy towards him is melting away and changing into something else, too. But you can’t put your finger on what.

He sits on his cot and removes his helmet. You can hear the hiss of the modulator through the door and your mind races with ideas of what he looks like. 

“I’m against the door… I just wanted it to feel like we were eating together.”

His heart flutters. “That’s okay, mesh’la,” he says, using the nickname subconsciously. 

“No more princess, huh?” you tease, but also listen carefully to his helmetless, unmodulated voice. 

He almost chokes on his food at your boldness. “Well uh, you said you weren’t a princess…”

“That’s right. I’m not. But what does mesh’la mean?”

He has two options. He could tell you the truth… or he could lie. What are the chances of you meeting another Mandalorian anyway? But he doesn’t want to lie to you of all people. You deserve someone who’s honest and good to you.

“It’s… Mando’a for beautiful,” he says, wincing at your response. At least, you can’t see how flustered he’s getting. 

“Oh… thank you, Mando,” you respond. That’s the first time you’ve used any sort of nickname to address him. And he takes note of that.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” he asks.

“No! Not at all. You’re very sweet.”

He relaxes a bit and you two talk while you eat, getting to know each other a bit more. You could sit and listen to his unmodulated voice tell you stories for hours. But eventually you’re both done eating and you hear him get up. You stand up, too and hear the hiss of the modulator once again. He opens the door and you both stare at each other for a moment, both surprised at your connection and concern for one another. He goes back up to the cockpit and sits in the pilot seat. You grab your holo-pad and follow him, sitting in one of the passenger seats in silence. Except this time, it’s a comfortable silence. And that was the start of Mando’s mysterious, protective nature breaking down the walls you put up around you. 

You fall into a routine during the rest of your traveling days. You sit in the cockpit together in comfortable silence. You sleep pressed up against each other. Your touch and gaze begin to linger. You grow more and more comfortable with each other; so comfortable that you almost forget you’re on your way to meet your fiancé and his family. 

But at night when you’re sleeping in Mando’s arms you don’t have a care in the world. You’ve grown so accustomed to sleeping with him that you know you’ll miss this when it’s over. It’s the same position every night, your back flush against his chest and his arm around your waist. And also… his hard length pressed against your butt and lower back. He wasn’t hard the first night most likely because he was so nervous. But as you both grew more comfortable you noticed the hardness more and more. You’ve never said anything about it. You didn’t want to embarrass him. 

But now it's your last night together. You’ll arrive on Naboo in the morning and your time together will be over. And you’ve come to the conclusion that you want Mando. Even if you won’t have him again after tonight. So when his cock goes hard against your back you push your butt into him, taking him by surprise. 

“...What are you doing, mesh’la?”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” you ask suggestively. 

“But you’re engaged, mesh’la,” he says quietly, defeated even.

“But I don’t want him, Mando. I don’t even know him. I was forced into this blindly. And if I have to go be with him tomorrow… I want one last good time; one last good night with you.” 

“Okay, mesh’la. Anything for you.”

And with his approval you’re pushing your butt back into him as his bare hand grabs your hip. He pulls into you, cock pressing hard against you as you ache for more touch. You rest your back on the cot and he takes the opportunity to hover over you. His hand trails up your thigh and hooks onto the waistband on your shorts. He pulls them off in one swift motion before spreading your thighs apart. His large fingers tease your entrance which was getting wetter by the second. He swept his fingers up your core, marveling how ready you were for him. He brings his thumb to your clit before moving the helmet against your face so could whisper in your ear. 

“I bet you wanted this every night, didn’t you mesh’la?”

You whimper in response, the featherlight touch of his fingers driving you insane. 

“Please. I need more.”

“What’s that?” he teases, “Are you begging for me, cyar’ika?”

You’re too horny and frustrated to retain any sort of pride now so you nod, begging even more.

“Yes. Yes, I am. Please, Mando, I need more.”

He plunges his index finger into you without warning, working your walls as your moans fill the small space.

“Look at you, cyar’ika. Already a mess just from one finger,” he purrs.

“What does that one mean? you ask. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear just as he slips in another finger eliciting a loud moan from you. 

He curls them upwards and brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing small, fast circles around it as waves of pleasure shoot through your body. You feel your muscles tense up in anticipation of relief and you know you’re close to finishing. 

“I’m close, Mando,” you whine. 

“Din,” he says. 

“Hmm?” you ask, too far gone to form a complete question. 

“My name is Din, Din Djarin. Call me by my name when you cum, cyar’ika.”

All you can do is whimper in response. But that isn’t good enough for him. He stops swirling his thumb around your clit and slows his fingers inside of you. 

“What was that, cyar’ika?” he teases, moving his fingers painstakingly slow. 

“Y-yes, Din,” you say in between labored breaths. 

“Good girl,” he praises before picking up the pace again. 

Your hands grip the edges of the cot for purchase as you roll your hips against him, desperate for his complete touch. He rests on the back of his heels and brings his hand to your abdomen, right above where his fingers are inside you and where your g-spot is. He pushes his fingers against it inside you and presses down on your abdomen ever so gently, pleasuring your g-spot internally and externally. Between the three different spots of stimulation you’re at the brink of orgasm again. And this time he lets you have it, making a mess beneath you on the cot and soaking his hand down to his wrist.

“Din, I’m coming,” you moan, arching your back up against him. 

“That’s right, cyar’ika. Cum on my fingers. Just like that,” he says, bringing his helmet by your ear once more. 

Your cunt convulses around his fingers in rhythmic waves before eventually stopping. He watches you writhe in pleasure and feels a sense of pride knowing he got you to cum hard like that. He waits until you’re finished before pulling them out of you; you whine at the sudden absence. 

“Don’t worry, mesh’la. I’m gonna take care of you,” he says before leaning back and pulling his cock out of his flight suit. 

He slicks his cock with your release and you spread your legs wider to accommodate how broad he is. He grabs your hand as he pushes into you. You gasp at his length, filling you completely. He buries his cock into you down to the hilt and showers you with praise. 

“You take my cock so good, cyar’ika,” he says as he stretches your walls.

His other hand moves to your tit, thumbing around your nipple and worrying into a stiff peak. It pulls a deep moan from prompting him to explore your body and learn just what makes you melt. His eyes are locked with yours, even though you can’t see his. He tears away his gaze for a moment to look down at your cunt and the way it grips his cock moving in and out of you. He curses at the sight, mesmerized by it before fucking you relentlessly. You feel your core tense up again before washing you over with the biggest wave of relief. You know he’s at the edge, too. He goes to pull out but you don’t want him to, not ready for the fullness you’re feeling to go away. 

“I have an implant,” you say quickly.

And with that he drives his hips into you one last time before releasing his load into you, coating your insides. He cums with a loud groan, spilling out of the helmet. He lays down, keeping you inside him and pulls you against his chest. 

“You’re amazing, cyar’ika,” he purrs, hand trailing up and down your figure. 

You sigh happily in response. He goes to pull out but you stop him, telling him you want to fall asleep like this. He relaxes and settles against you, wrapping your arm around your waist. 

“Thank you for that, Din,” you whisper. 

“Anything for you, cyar’ika.” he whispers back as sleep overtakes you both. 

You wake up to the sensation of his cock hardening inside you. You let out an involuntary moan and move your ass against him. He grinds back into you before waking up fully, hand gripping your waist tightly. You move back and forth with each other in a perfect rhythm, your ass colliding with his groin, plunging his cock into you as deep as it can go. He reaches forward and parts your legs slightly so he can rub your clit. You moan and lean back against his strong chest while he fucks you; the dual sensation taking you to the edge quickly. You cum simultaneously, pulling every last drop out of him as your cunt flutters around his cock. You’re feeling fuller than ever, between his length and having taken two of his loads. You’re going to miss this feeling so much. You’ve only had sex twice now and you’re already missing the feeling of him inside you. 

“You’re so dirty, cyar’ika,” he muses, hands roaming your body again, “Going to another man, full of my cum.”

“And wishing it was you,” you whine. 

“I know,” he whispers, “At least I got to experience this with you.”

“Yeah…” you trail off, the realization of today settling in. 

“I guess I should go get ready,” you sigh. 

He doesn’t say anything but you can feel him exhale behind you. You lift yourself up out of the cot and strip your pajamas. He sits up on the cot and admires your naked form in front of him, fearing it’s the last time he’ll ever see it. He wishes he could just rip off the helmet and take an unobstructed mental image but he knows he can’t. You go get dressed for the day, feeling so angry and defeated about your situation that you don’t bother to shower and wash him off of you. If you’re going to walk into an arranged marriage you’re going to do it encapsulated in the scent of your lover and filled with his cum. 

Din reattaches his armor and his weapons before retreating to the cockpit. You gather your things and meet him there, sitting in the passenger seat silently. The gloom of the situation permeated the space and both of you were feeling it. This time the silence is sad and lonely instead of comfortable like it had been for the past several days. 

Naboo comes into view and you gasp at the lush planet. Why does this beautiful place have to hold such terrible implications? Din watches the way your face lights up as you admire the scenery. He received coordinates where to land prior to leaving and heads there. One the Crest is stationary and he gets up to help you with his bags, pulling you into one final hug before lowering the exit ramp. 

“Take care, ner alor’ika.”

“Hmm, what does that one mean?” you ask against his chest plate. 

“My princess,” he says softly, moving his hand to the small of your back. 

He pulls away and lowers the exit ramp. You see the unfortunately familiar face of Valsi and an older lady who can only assume is his mother. You walk down the exit ramp with Din as he carries your bags.

Valsi’s mom greets you with a cheery hello. She starts rambling on about how excited is to show you around. Din sets your bags down on the ground and Valsi calls for a servant to collect them before taking your arm. They lead you away and you look over your shoulder to get one final glimpse at him before he turns and walks to the crest, the exit ramp closing behind him. A pit forms in your stomach as you hear his engines power up. 

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind 

Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in

As if you were a mythical thing

Like you were a trophy or a champion ring

And there was one prize I'd cheat to win

Valsi’s grip on your arm is tight and constricting as his mother shows you around. It really is a beautiful place; high vaulted ceilings decorated with elaborate paintings supported by strong columns. But you can’t admire the place without Valsi making a snide comment. 

“You won’t find places like this on Savareen,” he says, a dark smirk painting his face. 

“Valsi! Don’t be rude!” his mother scolds. At least she’s more polite than him. 

“Well, it’s true…” he says under his breath. 

His mother shakes her head and rolls her eyes before leading you outside. The garden is vibrant, green and full of life. Species of flowers you’ve never seen before lined up in neat rows with various sculptures arranged amongst them. Across the way there’s a shining, bright blue lake and in the distance mountains loom above casting their mystified reflection on the water’s surface. Minus the mountains, the lake reminds you of the oceans on Savareen and your heart aches. 

His mother goes to say something but she’s cut off by a blinding silver reflection walking across the garden. Your stomach lurches at the sight; Din Djarin walking towards you in a field of flowers. A giddy smile breaks out onto your face and you don’t care about Valsi or his mother’s reaction.

“You came back,” you say as he reaches you, trying to mask your excitement. 

“I’ve been hired by your father to look after you whenever Valsi is busy… up until the wedding,” he says.

“That’s ridiculous. We have plenty of guards here that can look after her,” Valsi retorts, narrowing his eyes. 

“Her father’s orders,” Din shrugs.

“Ugh, whatever.”

A servant comes out to the garden and motions for Valsi to come over to him.

“I have meetings I need to attend. See you for dinner tonight,” he says, squeezing your hand.

You pull back in disgust and he leaves to follow the servant inside.

“Feel free to explore on your own,” his mother says, “When you’re ready to be shown to your room, ask a servant and one of them will show you.”

“Thank you,” you smile. His mother really does seem like a nice woman. It’s a shame her son turned out the way he did. 

It’s just you and Din alone in the garden, standing in front of each other. You start walking towards the water and he follows you, admiring how the sun hits your face and how your hair catches the wind. You’re relieved to be with him again even if it’s only for a short time. You stop at the railing and rest your hands on it, leaning forward and looking at the rolling waves of the lake. The breeze blows your hair back and fills you senses with the scent of the flora around you. You look over at Din and wonder what it’s like for him under there. Does he ever miss the feeling of the sun on his face or the wind in his hair? Does he even have hair? You have no idea what he looks like. Can he smell things underneath the helmet?

“What are you thinking about, mesh’la?”

“What you look like… and if you can smell things through the helmet.”

His gloved hand on the railing slides towards yours, resting it on top. “Of course, I can smell, cyar’ika. I would fall asleep with you pressed up against me, smelling your sweet scent every night.”

Maker, you want him so bad right now. You inch closer towards him, barely keeping any space between you two.

“Cyar’ika…” he says nervously, “What if someone sees?”

“I don’t care,” you groan, resting your head against his chest plate, facing the water. You could stay like this forever, in his arms and surrounded by nature. 

But eventually you start to think that people might worry if you’re gone for a long time with him so you retreat back inside. You ask a servant to show you to your room. He leads you down a long hallway and stops at one of the doors. The room is beautiful, just like the rest of the mansion. You have a balcony that looks right out to the lake. Your bags are beside your bed and you turn to ask the servant about Din. 

“What about him?”

“Uh, Master Valsi never told me of any arrangements for him.”

“Well he is my bodyguard. I would like him to have a room not too far from me.”

“Very well, miss. I’ll get started on that. Dinner is in about an hour.”

“Thank you,” you smile. He closes the door behind him, leaving you and Din alone. He closes the gap between you and snakes his arm around to the small of your back. 

“Do you know how badly I want to take you right here, cyar’ika?” he whispers.

“I mean… we have an hour,” you say suggestively.

That’s all the clearance he needs. He pushes you down on the bed gently and pulls up the skirt of your dress to reveal no underwear.

“No underwear, cyar’ika? Iba’ etyc alor’ika.” What a dirty little princess. 

You moan at his words and spread your legs open for him, aching for his touch. He wastes no time bringing his fingers to your entrance and stroking it lightly, in awe of how wet you are already.

“How bad do you want it, cyar’ika?”

“So bad, Din. Please I can’t wait any longer,” you whine. 

He chuckles at your neediness and slides a finger in, curling it upwards against your walls. Barely giving you time to adjust, he pushes another in, anxious to get you cumming around his fingers. He brings his thumb to your clit and in no time he pulls an orgasm from you. You arch your hips up against him as your cunt convulses around him. He pulls his fingers from you after you’ve ridden out your high and releases his cock that was pitching a tent in his flight suit. He slicks his length with your juices and pushes into your cunt immediately, desperate for the warm, familiar feeling again. This is the first time you’ve had him during the day. And the light from the window and balcony across the room bathes him in the warm sunny glow. You’re mesmerized by the sight of him above you, inside you and in his full armor. It’s new for him, too. Not only are you also bathed in the afternoon light but you’re also in a bigger bed this time. And it allows you to sprawl out so beautifully underneath him. He leans down, effectively folding you in half and drives his hips into you harder. With this new angle you’re at the brink of orgasm and after one last forceful thrust you’re coming undone around him. Your muscles contract and release in a symphony, cunt fluttering around his cock pulling his own orgasm from him. Thick ropes of cum paint your walls as he slows his pace before pulling out of you carefully. He lays down on the bed and pulls you into him, the cold beskar a nice contrast to your warm, sweaty face. After a while of catching your breath he says, “You should probably go get ready for dinner, cyar’ika.”

“I know,” you sigh.

He rises and puts his cock away, grabbing your hand and helping you up from the plush bed. You undress and get ready to step in the refresher, making it even harder for you to leave him.

“I’m going to go retrieve some stuff from the Crest, cyar’ika,” he sighs.

“Okay,” you say softly, “See you after dinner.”

He leaves and closes the door behind him. You get in the refresher and clean yourself up, already missing him. You change into one of the dresses you packed, off the shoulder and a silky blue color before a servant comes to pick you up for dinner. He leads you to a large dining room, again with large vaulted ceilings. The table is so big and you’re sitting so far apart it’s barely like eating together. You’re sitting across from Valsi and his mother is at one end of the table.

“You’ll have to forgive Valsi’s father. He got caught up with some business on Coruscant but he’ll be here soon,” she says.

You nod and eat together in silence before asking, “What about-”

But Valsi cuts you off, “The Mandalorian? The servants will bring him his own food to his room.”

You think about Din eating alone in his room and feel sad for him, wanting nothing more than to sit against the door and talk with him while you share a meal together. Valsi raises his eyebrow at your concern for him but drops it, going back to eating his food in silence. Eventually the three of you are finished and you excuse yourself to your room.

“Thank you so much for the tour and thank you for having me in your home,” you say to his mom, looking past Valsi.

“Of course, dear. Have a good night.”

And with that you rise from your chair and walk back to your room, anxious to see Din again. You spot a servant in the entryway of the house and ask, “Where is the Mandalorian’s room?” careful not to use his name.

“The same hallway as you, miss. But all the way at the end.”

You tell him thanks and start walking a little faster, climbing up the staircase and heading towards the hallway. You reach the end and knock on his door, but you get no response. You wait a little before knocking again… but nothing. Maybe he’s already asleep? Maybe he’s still in the Crest? You wait for a sign of his presence before retreating to your room, feeling a little defeated. You get ready for bed and change into your pajamas, slipping into the soft bed and wishing Din was here with you. 

You drift off to sleep but don’t stay asleep for long because you feel someone on the other side of the room. You hear the clink of metal and the sheets rustle as the person sneaks into bed with you. You turn over to see Din getting into bed with you silently. 

“Din! What if someone comes in?”

“I won’t stay the whole night… I just couldn’t sleep without you.”

You feel a sense of relief, for you too have grown used to the feeling of him against you every night.

“Okay,” you say softly, settling yourself in the crook of his neck, “Goodnight, Din.”

“Goodnight, cyar’ika.”

“The more that you say

The less I know

Wherever you stray

I follow

I'm begging for you to take my hand

Wreck my plans

That's my man”

You wake up early in the morning with Din still at your side. He’s still sleeping so you pull yourself away (even though it’s hard) to watch the sunrise over the mountains and the lake. The sun peeks over the mountaintops cloaking everything in a warm, amber glow. You lean over the railing of the balcony, resting your elbows on it and placing your head in your hands, admiring the stillness of it all. No one telling you where to go, no Valsi dragging you by the arm, no father that doesn’t listen to you. Just you and your lover on a peaceful morning after just spending the night together. You hear Din get up and walk behind you, hooking his hands on your hips. It’s early enough that you don’t care about anyone seeing you together. You’re probably the only ones awake. He slides your sleep shorts down and you stand on your tiptoes for him. You feel the leather of his gloves trail up and your entrance before he pulls away to take them off. You hear the them hit the floor and he replaces his hand, bare this time. His fingers tease your core, playing with you until you whine for him, getting sick of the teasing. You stand on your tiptoes even higher, arching your ass against his groin. 

“Right here, cyar’ika? What if someone sees?”

“No one will… and if someone does, oh well,” you sigh. 

“That’s my girl,” he chuckles before plunging a finger into you. 

You moan at the sensation and arch your back more, desperate for more of his touch. He slips another finger in and works your walls, preparing you for his cock. Before you could cum he pulls them out of you, whining at the empty feeling. But before you could complain anymore you feel his cock push into you slowly. You sigh at the feeling of being full once again. He grips your hips and pulls you into him, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. Your soft and hushed moans surround you as you do your best to keep quiet. With one last slam of his hips you’re coming around him, gripping his cock like a vice. He erupts his load into you, filling you with the familiar feeling of his cum soaking your cunt once again. He pulls out of you and brings you up into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. The cold feeling of his chest plate presses against your back, slick with sweat from this morning’s activities. You stay there for a moment, holding each other and watching the rest of the sunrise. 

“Ni ka'tayli gar darasuum,” he says softly.

“Hmm?” you ask, still feeling blissed out.

“I love you, alor’ika. And I know that’s unfair to you because you’re engaged to someone else but… I can’t help how I feel.”

You turn and face him, gazing up into his visor and shocked that you just got a confession of love from him. But deep down… you feel the same way. And it hurts so bad because you know in a month you’ll be married to someone else.

“I love you, too, Din,” you say. 

He pulls you into him and strokes your back gently. You close your eyes and relax but you’re interrupted when you hear a knock on the door.

“Breakfast is in thirty minutes, miss,” you hear a servant say.

“Kriff, they’re probably going to your room next,” you say, pulling away and looking up at Din. 

“It’s okay, cyar’ika. I can just say I was sleeping before when they bring my food.”

You sigh and nod before going to get ready, changing into another dress. Din hugs you from behind one last time before returning to his room. You leave and walk to the dining room for breakfast to find Valsi and his mom sitting, talking about wedding preparations.

“Well, Valsi,” his mom sighs, “You’re already giving barely enough time to plan this wedding and now you want to move it up?” 

“Mhm. As soon as possible. Next week.”

She sighs again, “Fine, let me go alert the help of my son’s rash behavior.”

She gets up and leaves. You look at Valsi with a confused expression on your face.

“We’re moving up the wedding?”

“Mhm,” he says, rising from his chair and walking over to you. He looks down at you with a truly sinister look in his eye. 

“One of the servants alerted me of your little activity with the Mandalorian this morning. Can’t say I’m surprised. You two can’t keep your hands off each other.”

Your mouth falls open and a pit forms in your stomach. 

He continues speaking and grabs your chin, “So you can mess around with your little Mandalorian play thing for now. But once we’re married, you’re mine. Do I make myself clear?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Don’t really want this getting out to the public, do you? Think of your father’s reputation once everyone finds out you’re cheating on another senator’s son with a Mandalorian of all people.”

He releases his grip on your chin. “Alright, go run to him and tell him the news. But later today you’re looking for a wedding dress,” he sighs, returning to his chair. 

You push out your chair and leave the dining room at once, tears forming in your eyes. You don’t stop until you reach Din’s room, knocking on the door and calling for him. You hear the hiss of the modulator through the door; he must’ve been eating. He opens the door and you collapse into him, letting the tears flow.

“What happened, cyar’ika?” he says, rubbing your back.

“Someone found out about us and told Valsi… he moved up the wedding to next week,” you sob. 

You feel him tense up against you. “I’m sorry, cyar’ika. I wish there was something I could do.”

“Take me away from here,” you say softly.

“I… can’t. I’m sorry, cyar’ika. They’re members of the Senate. They’ll have everyone in the galaxy after us.”

You sob even harder, feeling completely hopeless. Not even Din can save you from this. You pull away, just wanting to wallow in your sadness alone.

“I think… I need to be alone.”

“Cyar’ika-”

But you don’t listen. You turn on your heel and walk back to your room, collapsing into bed and letting your tears overtake you. You drift off to sleep but your nap is interrupted by a servant waking you up, telling you it’s time to go pick out your dress. 

You leave with the servant and Din, who says nothing to you. They take you into the city and drop you off at a dress shop with enough credits. They wait for you out front while you make your selections. You couldn’t care less about your wedding dress and what it looks like since the marriage is a sham anyway. You pick the first one you see, pay and leave. You meet Din and the servant outside, ready to be done with being in public so you can go back to your room and wallow in sadness. You return back to the mansion and make a beeline for your room, tossing your dress on the dresser before falling into bed. You cry yourself to sleep and miss dinner, waking up the next morning with puffy eyes and an upset stomach.

The next several days feel monotonous, an endless cycle of pretending to care about wedding preparations and crying in your room. Valsi’s father and your family arrive on Naboo a few days before the wedding. Surprisingly, your parents invite the few friends you had on Savareen before you moved away; the best thing to happen to you in days. You’re happy to see them again but you wish it was under different circumstances. Din still hangs around, checking in on you in your room occasionally but you still hold some animosity for him for not being willing to get you out of here. 

“Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark

Show me the places where the others gave you scars

Now this is an open-shut case

Guess I should've known from the look on your face

Every bait and switch was a work of art”

It’s the night before the wedding and you hear a soft knock on your door. You open to see Din and despite your disdain for him you let him in. He sits on the bed gingerly, seeming nervous. You fold your arms, getting ready to speak first. But surprisingly he does.

“I just wanted to see you one last time.”

You sigh. In all honesty you wanted this, too. 

“Me, too,” you admit, sitting down next to him and looking down at your hands. 

He reaches over and palms your thigh. You pull off your dress before laying down on the bed and opening your legs for him. The dim glow on the lamps reflects off his beskar as he moves to your underwear, hooking the fabric with his fingers and pulling it off. He brings his finger to your cunt, teasing you lightly, taking his time with you on your final night together. You whine at his delicate touch, aching for more. He pulls off his gloves and feels just how wet you are for him, wanting to hear you beg for him again. 

“Please, Din. I need you,” you moan. 

On command he slides his finger in, pumping it and out of you slowly. “Anything for you, cyar’ika.”

It’s been days since you last had him and you missed him so much. You writhe under his touch; just from one finger. He marvels at your body, the plush skin of your thighs and how you arch your back in pleasure. Aching for more he pushes another finger in and brings his thumb to your clit. He rubs small, quick circles around it and curls his fingers, pulling an orgasm from you in no time. You soak his hand down to his wrist as your cunt grips his fingers. He waits until you’re done riding out your high before removing them from you and pulling his cock out of his flight suit. He lubricates his length with your release and aligns himself with your entrance, taking your hand one last time as he enters you slowly. You gasp at the sensation of him filling you up completely, burying his cock into you balls deep and grazing your cervix. His hands move to your waist pulling you into him as he thrusts into you. Your moans fill the bedroom and you couldn’t care less about anyone hearing you right now. He looks down at you in complete adoration as you take him. Din feels his cock tense up and his balls tighten. He’s at the brink of orgasm but he wants you to cum with him. He slams his hips into you harder and faster, sending you over the edge. Your cunt flutters around, pulling every last drop of cum from him as he fucks you through your release. He slows and pulls out of you, laying on the bed next to you. You place yourself in the crook of his neck one last time, inhaling his scent and trying to memorize every last detail about him before you never see him again. 

“Yooba solus mesh’la,” he whispers. (You are beautiful)

You sigh against him, never wanting this moment to end. But it’s getting late and you have to wake up early tomorrow. Reluctantly, you pull away from him and he gets up. You lead him to the door and give him one final hug. 

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, alor’ika,” he whispers against your hair.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back. 

After one final look at each other he leaves, returning to back his room. You put on your pajamas and crawl into bed, silently crying before you fall asleep. 

You wake up the next morning with puffy eyes and an ache in your heart. Din’s surely gone by now. What reason would he have to stick around for the wedding?

Servants knock on the door and tell you they’re here to help you get ready. You get up to let them in and they begin to work on your hair and makeup. You put on your dress and look in the mirror. You look beautiful but you don’t feel beautiful; getting ready to marry a man you don’t love while you’re full with the seed of another. 

The servants escort you down the stairs and you see your parents. They tell you how beautiful you look and how happy they are for you. You give them a faux smile, trying to fake any ounce of happiness you can muster.

Soon, it’s time for the ceremony and you look out into the garden from the house at all the guests. It has to be a large wedding of course, filled with some of the most important people in the New Republic. You see Valsi at the end of the aisle, looking annoyed like he’s just waiting for this to be over. You walk down the aisle with your father and start to feel sick to your stomach at all of the eyes on you. He hands you off to Valsi who takes your hand, a little too tight. The officiant begins reading the wedding passage and your ears start ringing. You don’t even listen to what he and Valsi are saying, missing your cues to speak several times. You can sense Valsi getting annoyed with you, his brow furrowing at you as you trip up on your vows again. Before you can finish you hear a loud, “Stop!”

You rip your gaze from Valsi to see Din standing in the aisle. He doesn’t even have to continue calling for you. You immediately run towards him and into his arms, ignoring the protests of Valsi and your family and the gasps from the guests. You hear Valsi call for the guards and Din draws his blaster. He places one hand on the small of your back and begins firing once the guards do. 

“Run, cyar’ika! To the docking yard!”

You turn and bolt. You hear Valsi shout, “Don’t let her get away!”

Din follows you, shooting his blaster at anyone chasing after you. Between the adrenaline rush of escaping and being fired at you push yourself harder, desperate to get away. You reach the docking yard and run straight to the Razor Crest. Din opens the exit ramp and ushers you inside, firing his blaster a few more times at the guards before following you inside. He closes the ramp behind him and rushes up the ladder and into the pilot seat, preparing the Crest for takeoff hastily. Not before long you’re taking off, staring at the beautiful planet beneath you but feeling so grateful to be leaving. Once you left the atmosphere Din jumps to lightspeed. He turns to you and grabs your hands. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt, cyar’ika?”

You shake your head no, still panting from the chase and replaying it in your head. 

“How are we going to do this, Din? They’re going to send everyone after us.”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan. We’re going to Nevarro where I have some people who’ve agreed to hide us. But there’s one thing… you have to become my riduur.”

“Your what?”

“My wife; my spouse.”

Without hesitation you tell him yes and he sighs in relief, worried that you didn’t want to escape one marriage by entering a new one. He lets go of your hands and brings them to the edge of his helmet. You immediately throw your hands over your eyes and ask, “What are you doing?!”

“Don’t you want to see the face of the man you’re marrying, cyar’ika?”

“...I can do that?”

“Yes, cyar’ika,” he chuckles but his heart swells at the idea of you agreeing to marry him without seeing his face; at your devotion to him. 

He pulls off the helmet and you hear the hiss of the modulator. You slowly remove your hands from your face and see Din, staring back at you. Brown, curly hair, a little matted from the helmet, a strong, prominent nose, two frown lines perched between his eyebrows, slightly patchy facial hair, and warm brown eyes scanning your face for any sign of approval. He’s beautiful; more beautiful than you ever could’ve imagined.

You crash your lips against his and entangle your hands in his hair, reveling in the feeling of his bare face pressed against yours. You break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You don’t have to thank me, cyar’ika. I’d do anything for you… I love you.”

“I love you, too, Din,” you say, kissing him again. 

He rests his hand on the back of your neck, continuing the kiss until he pulls away to check the coordinates on the control panel. You can’t tear your eyes away from him, watching him in the blue glow from hyperspace. He turns his face towards you again and smiles, the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. That’s your man. 

End note: Wow ok so that's the longest fic I've ever written!!! I would love to hear your thoughts!!! I was pretty nervous about posting something with this large of a scale contained in one fic so I would love to hear what you think 🥺🖤

Tag list and anyone else I thought might be interested!: @wannab-urs @atinylittlepain @bearsbeetsbeskar @jksprincess10 @dinsdjrn @dindjarinslegs @pr0ximamidnight @ghoultalks @beee-haw @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @heareball @littlemisspascal @marisemonteiroo @split-spectrum @hnt-escape @polishedtaylor @toxicanonymity @scmdsblog @babeincolor @undrthelights @tuquoquebrute @pedritosdarling @tieronecrush @pedrostories @tinygarbage @pedropascll @theelishad @kirsteng42 @pedritolover @randomnessfangirl @cannolighost @saradika @readingfan

#din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x fem!reader #mandalorian #the mandalorian #mandalorian x you #mandalorian smut #mandalorian x f!reader #star wars fanfic #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x afab!reader #mandalorian fanfic #star wars #willow taylor swift #mandalorian imagine #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal

[inklore]

restraint

premise: it’s not eddie’s fault that he wants you so badly, he can’t help it.

pairing: perv!eddie munson x (f)reader

word count: 1k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unaware somnophilia, so dubcon, dry humping, coming on panties, a bit obsessive!eddie.

etc: i guess i’m part of the pervy eddie club now, i hold no shame i just wish this idea didn’t come to me at five in the morning because i still have gotten no rest from it!

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

Eddie can’t help it, he really can’t. The little voice in the back of his head—the one that’s probably his conscience, that part of your brain that lets you know when something is morally wrong or just plain fucked up—is being steam rolled and turned into white noise as his cock hardens in his pants.

He can already feel the droplets of precum wetting the material of his boxers, making it cling to the tip of his cock.

He wonders if you can feel it, the way he’s throbbing as he grinds against your ass in slow gentle thrusts. Just enough for the friction to move your body with his, but not enough to wake you.

And yeah, he really shouldn’t be doing this but he really cannot help it. Not when you look this pretty in one of his band tees. The bottom of the shirt pulling up the more you move in bed, exposing your cotton panties, the curvature of your ass, the way the cotton clings and shapes your cheeks so perfectly.

How could he not reach out and touch?

His fingers were buzzing, burning to run along the material. His palm feeling like a furnace compared to yours when he lets it run along your back side, over the curve of your ass, your buttcheek sticking out from the bottom of the panties—index finger running along the back scheme right where your pussy hides, right where he wants to be, loves to be.

It wasn’t his fault that you looked so perfect like this, so pretty. Just as it wasn’t his fault that his cock had started throbbing to the point of pain, aching to the point of need that he had to rut against you. He would have gone insane if he didn’t.

And it wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last.

He would purchase a million tees if it meant he got this kind of show every night. Got to see your bare legs, your braless tits fill out the front so well.

God he loved the way you looked in his clothes.

Loved you like this. At his disposal, so fucking pretty for him, all his, his cock fitting perfectly against your ass—pressed between your cheeks when he finally can’t stand the pounding in his cock anymore and pulls down his pajama pants to position his cock between them. The cotton so soft. His nose buried in your hair as soft grunts fell from his open mouth.

His body even closer. Like glue to yours, your frame moving in tandem with his, quicker, harder the more pressure he puts in his movements. Enough to have your tits bouncing.

And he shouldn’t be greedy. Shouldn’t need—want—more. But you’re just so perfect and he can’t help how badly he wants you. He can’t.

So he doesn’t hesitate in moving his hand below the tee, his palm cupping your tit. Thumb running along your erect nipple, your small whimpers echo through him like a siren calling out to passing ships.

How could he not touch you like this? How could he ever stay away, not want to have his cock pressed to your body, inside of it, fucking you, feeling you all of the time.

How was it wrong to want you this bad, it couldn’t be.

“So perfect,” Eddie whines at the back of your skull. Whispering to you, hoping you can hear, feel how hard he is right now. How much he fucking aches for you to the point of frustration. “My pretty girl.”

He definitely shouldn’t come like this. On your cute little panties while you’re sound asleep. But he needs to come. Needs to mark you, needs to show you what you do to him, what you caused, why he can’t control himself around you.

And so he’s letting out a gutturaled sob into your hair as he paints the outside of your panties with his come. Wetting them, staining them with the seed you forced out of him. From making him crave you. Want you. What he couldn’t help. What your perfect body does to him.

When he pulls back to see a glob of it on one of your exposed ass cheeks he’s already growing hard again. Wants to wipe it up with his finger and push it between your lips, have you swallow it down without even knowing.

But, knowing you’ll wake up wondering, innocently clueless as to what’s on your skin, why your panties feel so weird; brings an amused kind of joy to him. Makes him want to hold you down to the bed and show you where it came from. Only this time he’d be coming inside of you.

He hisses at the sensitivity as grips the head of his cock, moves it along the wet patches of his come on the cotton. Spreads it along your purt covered cheeks. Wants you to wake up feeling soiled, soaked, wet because of him.

The ache deep in his balls is barely sedated. It never is when it comes to you. He could do it again. Ruin these panties to the point of unsavory. Or maybe he could pull them to the side, press the heat of his cock into your crack. Rub the head of his cock against it until he comes again.

Or even run the length of it along your pussy. Hear the wet noises of your folds opening up for him, greeting him like a warm embrace he wants so badly to be inside of—all of the time. You’d get so wet so quick, you have before when he’s done it. Have even come in your sleep just from the tip of his cock lightly brushing against your clit.

It never felt wrong to be with you like this. To take you like this, have you like this. You were his girl, so pretty, so perfect. He needed you, it wasn’t his fault.

And he never was any good at self control anyway.

#eddie munson smut #perv!eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fic #stranger things smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson one shot #tw dubcon