#throwing this one in the main tag because this time I Know What I'm Talking About

[idololivine]

Olivine and Eiden!

(asking because I'm not a very Eiden-centric shipper even though I ADORE him, I just find him a little less troubled than I like for my writing purposes pfff)

uwah you caught me after I turned off my computer to go to bed... mobile post incoming

Eiden is SUPER important to Olivine. I've talked about this before at length, but Eiden is Olivine's redemption, in the religious sense of the word. If Eiden doesn't show up, the temple gets destroyed; and if the temple gets destroyed, Olivine has to turn his back on his faith. There's no reconciliation to be had. But the temple doesn't get destroyed because Eiden comes, and in the process he saves Olivine from his loneliness and despair.

Quote from chapter 4:

Eiden So... *cough*... Father Olivine, are you willing to use all your power to aid me in restoring the altar to its original condition? If we succeed, this area will once again be safe from monsters. Olivine Thank you, oh holy God of Klein, for giving me this chance to atone for my sins...

I once saw someone say that Olivine erased his own personality to become Eiden's sex slave, and I bring this up because it's such a garbage take that it lives in my head rent free. Like, you'd have to actively ignore swathes of the canon text and read the rest in bad faith to reach that conclusion. Eiden's relationship to Olivine has a consistent beat of Eiden doing whatever Olivine wants - in part because Olivine's development is about learning that he's allowed to want things, and in part because Olivine's wants often line up with Eiden's wants (in the horny sense).

Quote from Zest for Life:

Olivine ... Can we really go? Eiden No problem! All you gotta do is tell me your desires, and I'll do my best to make them a reality. After all, you don't ask for much.

I also can't even begin to explain how Olivine hasn't "erased his personality". He's just really really agreeable. He's like this towards everyone, not just Eiden. There's something to be said about how his agreeability is tied to him being raised to fulfill other people's wants, but Eiden truly does not exploit it in a harmful way (see: IF Olivine's intimacy rooms, which focus on him being too much of a people-pleaser and how that's bad, and Eiden is the one who gets him to understand why boundaries are good) and when Olivine rolls with clan member bullshit, it's always played for laughs.

Anyway. Enough about that single dumbshit hot take.

Another common-ish sentiment I see is that Olivine and Eiden don't read as romantic, which I both agree and disagree with. I agree with it in the sense that I read them as queerplatonic, but I also disagree because people seem keen to say they're "just" friends with benefits in a way that implies their relationship is unimportant because it's not romantic. To repeat what I said four paragraphs ago, Eiden is immensely important to Olivine, as the person who freed him from the expectations forced upon him. This one's just on amatonormativity, which is an annoyingly persistent plague in a fandom for a game that does polyamory and relationship anarchy so well.

So that's a lot of Olivine analysis; what about Eiden? It's tough, because as the canon text depicts it, none of the individual guys actually do much to further Eiden's development. It's due to the game's structure: events and intimacy rooms are all centered on the characters, while Eiden learns and reacts to things as an audience proxy. It doesn't leave much room for Eiden development or backstory. The game also can't have Eiden be especially vulnerable with a specific character, because unless the writers manage to spread it out equally, it would imply that one character is the "correct" romantic option for Eiden. A gacha harem game can't show favoritism as blatant as that. (I think their favoritism is super blatant as it is, but that's a different topic.) So, canonically, Eiden's development and support is a group effort spread across all the members. To individuals, Eiden gives more than he gets, but he collectively gets a whole lot from being in a found family dynamic after a lifetime of not having a family. As the game presents it, I can't say that Olivine alone is a driving force for Eiden's development, though Olivine's certainly an important part of the greater whole. AUs are a different ballpark and you can do whatever the fuck you want there.

#asks #zerenovation #nu carnival #nu carnival olivine #nu carnival eiden #eioli #throwing this one in the main tag because this time I Know What I'm Talking About

[sherifftillman]

I Want Your Video

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Genre: smut

Tags: Stranger Things (series), 18+ (minors DNI), modern!au, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, pulling out, overstimulation, mentions of anal, filming a sex tape, mentions of reader being cheated on

Summary: You had to make your ex pay for what he did, to you and his former fellow Hellfire party member. There's only one person that can truly help you with that.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: Good news, gang! Turns out, I actually do remember how to write anything other than Busy Streets and Busy Lives!

Waving at Wayne as his car passes yours on his way out of the trailer park puts your mind at ease. That's one potential barrier out of the way. The other is whether or not your potential other party agrees to your little plan.

You didn't participate too much in your ex's Hellfire Club stuff because campaign time was campaign time only, and unless you were summoned to stand in for someone, you weren't a part of this story's main adventuring party. Nonetheless, you'd developed your own camaraderie with the group - especially the only regular female player. 

Which is why it was all the more heartbreaking to see the screenshots of your then-boyfriend's attempts to slide into her DMs. Watching him gaslight her into believing that she was misreading his messages as being flirtatious, despite them definitely being so, hurts enough. Your heart sinks to the floor when you see the photos he'd sent. You know pretty well what his own dick looks like and that's definitely what he sent her. Completely unsolicited. Judging by the timestamp and the sheets beneath him, he even took those while you were asleep next to him.

You needed to make him regret doing that for the rest of his pathetic little life. You needed to hit him where it would hurt most.

And so, you knock three times on Eddie Munson's door. He greets you warmly, but there's an air of sympathy to him. "Hey. Um, I just want you to know, right off the bat, that shitbag's never, ever setting foot near the table again. Next session, his character's getting killed off in the most humiliating way I can come up with, and I totally get if you don't want to, but we'd need a full-time stand-in -"

"I didn't come here to talk D&D, Eddie," you cut him off, and his brow furrows.

"Well, if it's emotional support you're after, then I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm not of any use there."

"Not that, either," you shake your head. "I - I don't want anything to do with that asswipe ever again, but I still wanna make him pay." You start pacing the expanse across Eddie's living space. "I mean, sure, I dumped his ass, but he'll feel no remorse from that, he didn't care enough about me to stay loyal. I need to really stick a dent in his pride. I need it to come from someone he really admires." You look at Eddie hopefully.

He shrugs, "Sure, I'll teach that bastard a lesson. What do you have in mind?"

You take a deep breath in. "Well, if he's going to send dick pics without remorse… I was thinking… You and I go one better and send him a - a video. If that's okay with you."

Eddie feels as though all his Christmases have come at once. He'd always found it tough tearing his eyes away from you with your boyfriend mere feet away. He wanted to sucker-punch the sense back into him when he'd learned what your ex had done. But this? So much better.

Rubbing his jaw, Eddie nods. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we can do that." He gestures for you to follow him to his room, which you do. "My phone, or yours?"

You contemplate, "Yours. It'll sting more coming from you."

Eddie nods, setting his phone on a surface close to the bed and setting up the right angle. "So, clothes already off, clothes on? Anything definitely off the table, or on it?"

"Clothes off, I want it to pack a punch the moment he hits play," you direct, and Eddie nods, throwing his shirt off. You knew there was more ink beyond his forearms, you'd seen little peekaboo moments of the artwork adorning his body, but seeing them all out in the open, as though he's an open sketchbook,  captivates you. He's obviously watching you stare at each one as he smugly swivels himself around to show you all of them at all angles. You continue, "Um, how do you feel about… Not wearing - I promise, the video will stop before any completion happens, I'm not here to get knocked up or anything," you quickly explain, to Eddie's amusement.

"Yeah, I'll fuck you raw." Something about the way he casually purrs that as a smirk tugs at the left corner of his lips sends a buzz through your nervous system that settles at your core. "Anything else?"

"Um… He never really liked… Going dow-"

"Oh my god, of course he didn't," Eddie interrupts. "But he'd have you -?" You nod. "Disgraceful."

"And even though I would always ask him to, he wouldn’t talk dirty to me. So maybe if he saw that in action?"

"Oh, fuck yes, doll, you are speaking my language," Eddie grins. "We talking praise, degrading, narration? How rough do you want me?"

"Honestly, go nuts. I'm all good for all of it. In terms of the talk… I'm good with any as long as it's not humiliating me, but the more possessive, the better." 

"Hmmm, you better get those clothes off and that camera started, baby, or else I might get ahead of myself." Eddie shuffles out of his jeans and palms himself over his boxers as he watches you strip to your underwear with great intent. 

You both silently agree to strip down your last layer at the same time, getting all of the awkwardness out of the way. You're in awe of his cock, stood of its own accord even before he starts stroking himself at the sight of you. You chew your lower lip as you watch in fascination and he grins, "You gonna at least hit record before I end up coming all over my hand?"

You hop onto Eddie's bed, feet swinging above the floor as you ask, "Where do you want me, Mr Director?"

Eddie glances over at his phone screen, smirks, and taps it before striding over to you, pulling you into position by your legs, and throwing one over his shoulder. Pushing the other one out, you realise to get a good angle of it for the camera, he sweeps his hair to one side and makes quick work of snaking his tongue inside of you. 

Your fingers card through his hair and grip tightly, and he hums with approval against your core as his nose nuzzles at your clit. "Is that good, baby?" he purrs between licks, and you nod. He surfaces, shaking his head. "Use your words, sweet thing."

You swallow hard. "Y-yeah, so good."

"Mmm, that's my good girl, doing as she's told, c'mere," he grips your thighs tightly as he laps back and forth at your clit. You sit yourself up at an angle to watch him yourself, the way he looks so lustfully as he goes to town on you. He blindly holds his hand up to you, wiggling two fingers specifically, and you take his wrist to aim them into your mouth. He moans as you suckle and lick his fingers, "Oh, fuck yeah, such an obedient little slut. Taste so good, and so good with your mouth, fuck, I can't wait to wear you around my fucking cock."

You whine, "Please?"

He chuckles, "Patience, sweetheart. I've a feeling you need to get stretched out before you can take me."

"You're so big," you moan wistfully as you fall back onto your elbows, and you feel Eddie's toothy grin press against you as he angles himself enough to slide two long fingers inside of you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your hand grips his hair tighter and he moans delightfully around you. "Fuck, Eddie, feel so good, I can't - I need to -"

Eddie resurfaces to rest his head against your thigh, gently sinking his fingers into you and stretching them apart before pulling them out to do the same thing over and over again. "So soon, baby?" he croons. "Getting your sweet little cunt eaten gets you this fired up?" You nod, and while Eddie wants to scold you again for not speaking, he's enamoured by the face you make when you're turned on. Eyes half-lidded, lips shiny and just-parted, chest heaving. He hasn't even played with your tits, yet. Fuck, he's barely gotten started with you and you're already a mess under his hand. 

"Please?" is all you can think to say as his fingers curl inside you, making you mewl out loudly.

"Fussy girl wants to come already?" he asks in that crooning voice again, and you nod. Eddie pulls away from you entirely, grinning at your despair, and gets up to straddle you from behind, pressing an oddly gentle kiss to your forehead as he does so. Once he's sat with his legs draped either side of you and his chest flush against your back, he takes one of your breasts into his hand to massage it as the other hand reaches down to rub fast, deliberate circles against your clit. His lips press kisses all along your throat as you cry out for him. His voice is low, breathy, but still loud enough to be recorded as he asks, "Fuck, yes, who do you belong to, huh?"

"You, Eddie," you moan, turning your head to try and face him as you say it, feeling your orgasm start to build faster than you've ever been able to muster yourself.

"Mmm, and who does this pussy belong to?" he asks before sucking a big, dark bruise onto the base of your neck. He feels your neck start to crane again and hums an uh-uh against your skin, pulling his head up to purr into your ear, "Don't tell me, baby." He pulls his hand away from teasing at your nipples to squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pushing your face around until you're facing his phone. "Tell him."

You look down the camera lens, moaning as Eddie sucks on your earlobe, the hand on your face now sliding down to wrap around your throat as the fingers on your clit work it faster. "It's all - shit, my pussy's all yours, Eddie. No- Nobody else makes it feel - this good, not even me, please," you falter into a plea at the end as you feel the crescendo looming.

"Damn right she belongs to me, and she wants me so bad, doesn't she?" His hand leaves your clit momentarily to dip down and coat his fingers in your thick juices. When he brings them up to your lips, the hand that had been so gently pushing against the pressure points in your throat falls to resume working your clit as you once again suck on his fingers. "Look at her, she's crying out for me, so desperate for it, can't wait to - to squeeze herself all over my thick cock as I fuck you the way you deserve, right? The way I've wanted to since I first saw you?" You make a small noise of intrigue around his fingers and Eddie chuckles, "That's right, sweetheart, but that's not why we're here, is it? We're here so you can come for me without me even needing to be inside you, aren't we? You're gonna show him what you really look like when you're satisfied, aren’t you?"

Still looking at Eddie's phone, your walls clench over absolutely nothing as your climax finally washes over you. Eddie continues to kiss and suck across your neck as he slows his attack on your clit and pushes the fingers in your mouth gently in and out as they muffle your moans.

"Fuck, yes, baby," he groans into your ear, "that was incredible."

Pulling down on his wrists until his fingers leave your mouth with a satisfying pop that you really hope the mic picked up, you lean back against Eddie and reach up to play with his hair. "Wanna watch me suck you off, now?" You ask with a coy grin.

Eddie bites his lip, "Any other time, absolutely. But right now, I need you sat on my dick and facing me so I can watch that pretty little face of yours as I make you cum over and over again. Why should he get all the fun of seeing that, huh?"

You squirm as you move yourself around to straddle him, pressing your forehead to his and mumbling, "You really ought to keep the dirty talk more believable, you know."

He frowns as his arms slide up and down your sides, cradling you, "You doubt my talents, sweetheart? You wound me."

"It takes an awful lot for me to get there, usually," you admit quietly, "even once."

"And look at you now," he smirks at the same volume. "Ready for me?" he asks as he reaches between you both to angle his cock away from where it rests against his torso. You nod eagerly, hovering up onto your knees and moving with him. Slightly louder, he grins, "I didn't hear you, ba- oh my fuck," he groans out as you sink down onto him without warning. "Oh, fussy girl can't wait, huh? God, you're fucking loving this dick, arent you, baby, huh?" he croons as he watches your face contort with pleasure as you lower yourself further and further until you're sat with him fully inside you.

With his arms wrapped tightly around you, and your hands on his shoulders to keep you in place, he leans in to kiss you openly, his tongue instantly seeking yours. You grind yourself against him while he's buried in you, moaning into the kiss at the feeling. "Fu-uuuck, Eddie," you moan. "Tell - tell me more - first time you saw -"

"Mmm, the first time I saw you?" he asks, reaching down between you again to rub your clit in gentle circles. "You walked in with him. Wearing a cute little dress, but you had a shirt on under it so I missed out on these," he gropes at your breasts. "Hmm, but fuck, I wanted you to stay. Wanted that cute little mouth sucking me off while he played just across the table. Wanted to feel that cute little ass of yours as I bent you over the table and fucking railed you."

You whine, "You wou- you'd fuck my ass?"

Eddie lets out his loudest moan yet, bucking up further into you. "Fuck, I didn't mean that, but if you'd let me, baby, any day of the fucking week. But I gotta take care of my pussy first, don't I? She's being so good to me," he purrs as he fucks you deeper. "I think - we've put on enough of a show, don't you?" he asks as he blindly reaches for his phone, angling it at both of your faces. "I don't think he deserves to watch you come over my dick. Say goodbye, sweetheart."

You look at the camera, smile coyly and turn to Eddie to lean in and bite his lower lip, both of you chorusing low chuckles to each other as he cranes his phone around to hit the stop button.

Reality crashes down on you as you realise it's all over now. That video was the reason you showed up. That was what he agreed to do. He notices your hesitation as he throws his phone aside and quickly swings you both around so that you now lay beneath him. You'd been so focused on making a good sex tape, you had barely paid attention to Eddie himself until now. Eyes blown black, his hair and his guitar pick chain dangling between the two of you, a light sheen of sweat showing against his dark ink. But by far the hottest thing of all about him was the sheer, primal hunger in his gaze.

"I hope you didn't think we were done yet, princess," he coos. "Now I get to really focus on you."

Not letting his gaze leave yours, he aims his cock inside of you once again, taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers before fucking into you deeply.

Your back arches as he fills you, and you moan his name, to his delight. Before long, you're begging and whining again, your fingers clenching tighter against his. "Gonna come for me, baby? Fuck, tell me again, who owns you?"

"You - you do, Eddie," you moan, your hips squirming beneath him.

"Damn right, I do. Just like I said, I'll make you come over and over again. Do it, baby, come for me."

That euphoric feeling returns, but tenfold as you feel yourself tighten around his member. He slides it in and out of you gently as you work through your climax, but it's short lived as he climbs further onto the bed to line himself up with your chest, wrapping a wide, rough hand around his cock as he pumps it, sending warm spurts of thick cum flying against your breasts as he throws his head back and moans gutturally.

Looking down at yourself, then back up at him, you ask, exhausted, "G'me y'r phone, please."

He slowly hands it to you, confused, and you get up to kneel on the bed right in front of him, taking one of his hands and holding it up to your throat until he gets the hint to hold onto it himself, and then doing the same for the other arm, guiding it between your legs.

You swipe onto his camera, flip it to the front one, and set the phone down so that it only starts showing from your nose downwards, making sure that the bruises on your neck, and the cum on your chest aren't obscured. Setting a timer, you smile slyly as one photo takes. You take another with you biting your lip, and Eddie gets in on making sure you take one where he's kissing your neck amongst the hickey.

But Eddie lets go of your throat for a moment to switch the camera back to video mode, mutter in your ear, "You keep this right here, 'kay, baby?" and hit record right as the hand between your legs once again starts rubbing your clit with a lot more fervor than before.

Just as the timer starts recording, Eddie's grip around your throat tightens and you cry out silently, just about managing to squeak out a, "S-so - sensi- so much."

"I know it's sensitive, baby, that just means it'll be quick," Eddie promises, keeping his lips close to your ear, still in shot of the camera. "But I promised you, didn't I?" He drags two fingers across your drenched thighs, "After you already came for me, I promised it would happen again," he wipes one finger against your lower lip, "and again," he adds as he wipes the other there, too.

You groan, "Fuck, don't know - 'f I c'n take-"

Eddie shushes you, "Of course you can, baby. Your pussy's mine now, remember? And I already know her so well. Fuck, I can't wait to give you so much more. Did you mean it, sweetheart, when you asked me to fuck you in the ass someday?" You nod desperately, whining and keening against his touches. "Good, because I most certainly plan on having a lot of fun with my new cocksleeve. Have you be my new favourite after-gig tradition, where I get to go offstage and fill all your holes." You squirm against him, grinding your bare ass against him. "Mmm, afraid I'm not quite the free-use fucktoy you are, doll, that's not gonna work on me just yet," he drawls.

"Ple-ease, need to  need, fuck -"

"What's that, baby? You need to come again? Oh, but I thought it was so hard to get you there. Remember that when I send you this video and you watch it back, okay, sweetheart? Remember who makes you feel this good. Remember who fucking owns you."

"'s you, Eddie, fuck, I'm -" you scream out in ecstasy as a third orgasm travels entirely across your nervous system, filling your entire body with a high like you've never experienced before. With a grin, Eddie leans over to once again stop his recording and gently lay you down onto his bed. 

"Stay right here, okay, doll? Gonna get you all cleaned up."

You nod, mumbling, "Don't think - I can go anywhere else anyway."

Eddie chuckles under his breath, moving to kiss your forehead and then your lips before making his way to the bathroom.

He returns moments later with several warm, damp washcloths and fresh towels, and takes great care in mopping up your thighs and your chest, in major contrast from the Eddie you'd just experienced.

Once you're clean, he lays himself to curl up next to you on the bed and pull you in to spoon him, pulling his pillows down to where the two of you lay in the centre of the bed so he could place one under your head. You hum in happiness as he presses kisses to your shoulder. "You were fucking amazing, back there, sweetheart. A goddamn natural."

"Having such a good co-star certainly helped," you smirk back. 

"An', y'know. I don't want to put any pressure on you, 'cause what you're going through is a whole thing, but you know most of that was just talk for the camera, and that I see you as way more than a fucktoy, right?"

You pout, "So I'm not gonna be?"

He chuckles, kissing between your shoulder blades. "I didn't say that, did I? Just that… This is casual, and awesome, but I don't want you to think that I only did this to have sex. I did it to have it with you. And I'm down to be… Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, a rebound, whatever it is you need. 'Kay?"

You squeeze his arm around you a little tighter in thanks. You know you're certainly not ready for any kind of relationship again just yet. But who's to say that you can't have fun in the meantime? Maybe this goes further. Maybe it doesn't. All you know is, as you watch with glee as you watch Eddie send the first video to your ex, and then set his favourite of the photos you took as his home screen, you definitely made the right choice tonight.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #fic: eddie m #*myfics

[mokulule]

The Number You have Called Cannot Be Reached - part 8

Part 1 | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence So I promised this like months ago, and then got overwhelmed by having to manage the taglist resulting in me not updating this fic despite actually having written the next part. So that said this is the last time I'm tagging people, please subscribe to the masterlist - I'm gonna link it both here at the top and at the bottom. Anyways enjoy the next part:

Jason could handle this. He had handled this for years. The Pits were a known enemy. It shouldn’t effect him to this degree. But he could handle this. He could go about his day without putting heads in duffel bags, that had got to count as a win. The fact that he was avoiding his family, was just a precaution. Jason had everything under control.

Not like when he’d fled the Cave after assaulting Bruce in his stupid sweater.

That had not been his proudest moment. But the thing that really got to him was how he didn’t remember doing it. He didn’t even remember going to the Cave. When he tried to think it was all a green haze. The last moment of real clarity was opening Ghost’s bag and seeing nothing but dry protein bars. Knowing in his gut this was all he ate and that he stood with his food, and no way to give it back to him.

When he had fled the Cave, he’d gone home shaking like a leaf, and sunk to the floor trying to get his head back on straight. He didn’t know how long he sat there with his back against the door, just trying to breathe and search his memory. Eventually, though he didn’t know after how long, he found his phone and looked up the news. It had been a great relief to find that Red Hood had not been sighted, so he likely hadn’t been out on a murder spree he couldn’t remember.

But now it was days later. There had been no more green hazes. Things were under control.

Maybe he hit a bit harder, and a bit longer, when he went out. But it was the normal amount? Wasn’t it? Definitely not much more than normal, if it was more. That he was sure of… like 80% sure of. Jason rubbed the front of his helmet in lieu of his brow - It didn’t really help. What had Bruce even said that set him off? He barely remembered, something that felt demeaning, but the words escaped him no matter how many times he turned them over in his head. Normally he wouldn’t question himself that like, of course Bruce would have said something demeaning, he always did. He didn’t trust Jason, never would again. There would always be suspicion and doubt. But now…

Jason’s hand clenched into fists. Now having been without the Pits’ influence, having seen Bruce trying to reach out to him, as awkward and resigned as it had been, he wasn’t so sure.

He wasn’t sure he could trust himself.

Maybe this was all Bruce’s plan? Another of his famous gambits - this one to fold Jason back under his control, with the pretense of love and family. Because surely he had been right all along and Jason needed to be watched, couldn’t be trusted on his own.

Jason ripped the helmet off his head, only barely stopped himself from throwing it. He gasped and breathed in deep, like a man drowning. He was the one in control, he reminded himself firmly. Not the pits. Not Bruce.

There was sound in his comms and he hastily pulled the helmet back on. Ghost had been sighted. He had to go. If he could just talk with Ghost, figure out what this was.

Ghost ran away. Immediately, as if he could sense Jason.

It was okay, Jason could handle this.

Oo o oO

Barbara tapped the space bar absently without actually pressing it. Keeping half an eye on her leftmost monitor which showed the program she used for the surveillance in Gotham, no persons of interest were pinging tonight so far, no alarms had tripped for about an hour. She had time to ponder the conundrum that was their reoccurring thief.

If the thief was building something the other night was proof the loss of the spectral calibrator, hadn’t put a stop to the progress. The thief never ran in the same direction so they still didn’t even have that to go by to narrow down where he stayed, when he wasn’t giving them the run around.

The odd reaction to Jason hadn’t made a reappearance. In fact the moment Jason joined them the thief disappeared immediately: density shifting into the ground. Jason was not happy about it to say the least.After the backpack full of barely edible off-brand protein bars had been delivered to the cave by Jason, Barbara would agree with Jason that whatever situation the thief was in, it was worrying if this was all that he ate. She still held by her assessment that the photographic evidence was of too low quality early in their run-ins because of the strange electromagnetic interference he gave off to actually judge if he’d lost weight - but he did look very gaunt now.

She leaned back in her chair. A cup of coffee was warm between her hands, she breathed in the familiar scent as she considered the known facts.

Name assumed to be Danny Fenton, potentially legally Daniel Fenton, though they’d been unable to find a match to his physical appearance and rough age in their databases. He hadn’t actually spoken to any of them, it was a very real possibility he was a foreigner, but they’d checked and he wasn’t wanted by any foreign intelligence services.

The phone was baffling.

It was a brick, and it looked like something from the early 00s, from around the time when handheld phones really started to be something everyone had.

Tim had asked for Barbara’s help after he hadn’t been able to recover the erased text messages for some days. Tim had filled her in on his discovery that while all the numbers coded into the phone led to a “the number you have called cannot be reached” message when called from the phone - some of the numbers were actually active when looked up; the Jazz one led to a pizza place and the Dad number led to an elderly woman with Chinese heritage who had no relation to anyone named Danny or Fenton. The rest of the numbers weren’t currently in use.

It was odd however that despite those two numbers being in use, they still got the cannot be reached message. Tim had suggested the program which made the phone able to piggyback on the mobile network without a sim was faulty, but it had been easy enough for Barbara to disprove by calling a local number which connected with no problem. Tim was brilliant but sometimes he got too caught up in his complicated theories that he forgot the simple things.

Her recovery program for the text messages had just finished running (this was her third attempt). She took a sip of coffee, leaned forward and promptly nearly spat it out when she saw the result. It went down the wrong pipe when she tried to recover and she coughed and sputtered. Carefully she put her cup on her desk before she spilled it.

Finally her airways were clear and she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Somehow this was Dick’s fault.

She had recovered the messages. They were there - time stamps and all. The last message received was over a decade ago in 2009 and wasn’t that ominous? But that was a side note to be pondered later, because the contents of the messages, oh this was malicious.

Somehow, before deletion every single message had been changed to “Ghost”.

Not just a single ghost, no, entire messages teasing at their original length, but just changed into ghost ghost ghost ghost ghost. A whole litany of ghosts.

And it was definitely Dick’s fault.

Next

So that was it, hopefully I will be able to get back in the swing of things now. Commentary and tags are a great motivator and I read them all. As stated this is last time I tag people, so in the future you can subscribe to the masterlist or on Ao3 where the edited and hopefully better version eventually goes up.

Tag list of doom part 1:

@thewondersoflebanon | @gin2212 | @busterkeel | @apointlessbox | @spoopyspoony | @charlietheepic7 | @proper-idiocy | @serasvictoria02 | @zgirlly | @emeraldcorpral | @mushroom-jack | @v-inari | @8-29pm | @quirky-gardener | @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff | @mars-the-witch | @elthepickle | @thegatorsgoose | @impulsiveasshole |

@tired-yet-awaken | @luagi-the-bestest | @britcision | @autumnwulf | @little-pondhead | @asphyxia778 | @sarina-elais | @may-rbi | @onlyhereforthechaos | @somuchyikes | @yjfk | @rosiea184 | @screamingtofillthevoid | @ailithnight | @writer-extraodinaire | @samgirl98 | @hanahaki-disease | @riverdancingwerewolves |

#Jason is catnip to Danny #Missed Connections #dead on main #these next three parts are going to be following a theme #as Jason gets steadily more unhinged #sorry dear #it's necessary #dp x dc

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty one : te mirci't

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

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

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 9.0k

summary : reader does a lot of thinking, and a lot of expressing of said thoughts

warnings, etc. : language, angst, canon typical violence, smut smut smut smut, p in v smut, food play sort of kind of, din djarin nearly creams his pants over the concept of domesticity, sort of a dom/sub thing, switch!reader & switch!mando, din has a breeding kink and it's addressed, reader has like zero chill this chapter, dirty talk, men whimpering (hooray!), light bondage, use of handcuffs, unprotected sex

a/n : ik y'all are hype about breeding kink din but i'm gonna real quick say that i will not throw in like a surprise pregnancy in this fic, cause it hasn't been tagged with that thus far and sometimes it irks me when i'm knee deep in a fic and suddenly the reader is pregnant without warning and it wasn’t tagged,, so yeah. it would be different if i advertised this as a pregnancy fic from the get go but i didn't so i'm not gonna spring that on people. (reader could still potentially end up pregnant at the END of the fic (possibly maybe who knows) but there will not be any surprise pregnancy, sorry!) that's it lmao, just wanted to throw that out there.

“It means I love you.” 

You aren’t entirely sure how long you stare at him, looking rather silly with your jaw practically on the floor. 

How many times has he said it without you even knowing? How long has he loved you? Maker, your mind is racing as you try to recall when the first time he said it would have been.

You’ve already said it to him. 

Albeit you didn’t realize what you were saying but you’d said those words to him. And hearing you say them had worked him up so much that he’d fucked you like it was his last night alive. 

He doesn’t seem to have much to say now that he’s dropped that bomb on you. You just stare at each other in this blistering silence for an eternity. Until the smell of burning has you shooting out of bed, scrambling towards the oven as you grab the lone oven mit off the counter, removing the smoking baking trays quickly, propping open the single window above the sink and tossing the ruined cakes under the faucet.

“Kriff.” You lean up against the counter, staring at where he’s currently getting up from the bed to join you. Are you a terrible person if you just ignore it? Because currently the last thing you want to do is think about it. “I’m gonna start a new batch, I lost track of time with this one.” You whisper towards him, never actually meeting that thin black line of his helmet. 

“You don’t have to say it back.” He whispers back to you, taking a seat at the table. 

You know you don’t have to. 

Honestly the pressure of having to say it is the least of your worries. The most troubling part of this situation is the question that now plagues you which is, do you love him? 

You rinse out the last batch of batter from the bowl before starting a new one.

You’ve always been so hesitant with him. Even from the start. You wouldn’t let yourself think about him, then you wouldn’t let yourself feel for him, care for him, want him. At one point you wouldn’t even let yourself like him. 

So to think about if you love him? 

The only thing you’ve ever let yourself do is hate him. And you never even really did that. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. 

Shit. You’ve been quiet for too long.

“I’m fine, sorry, just… upset about the cakes.” You both know it’s a lie. But neither of you says a thing. He just nods. You work in silence, willing your mind to think of anything else as you scrape the burnt cake tin off into the sink before refilling it with the new batch of batter. As you slide the tin into the oven you turn, unable to face him you turn your gaze elsewhere, to the single shelf in his home. 

A few days ago when you were here it was covered in assorted pieces of metal and scrap. Now it’s mostly bare. In a desperate attempt to change the subject you walk over, picking up one of the few remaining scraps. 

“What happened to all your stuff? You hold a small metal ball between your fingers as he walks up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as he leans down. You feel the chill of beskar against your skin. 

“I used it all.” He’s still being far too vague about all this and you frown, holding the ball up in front of his face. 

“You forgot this piece.” He takes it from you as you say it, you don’t remember him taking his gloves off but they are, his bare hands holding it like it’s a precious gemstone. 

“This isn’t a part of my secret project,” He murmurs, rolling the ball between his fingers. “this belonged to the kid.” 

You have to remind yourself not to pry, that you promised yourself you’d let him talk about it on his own. His free hand snakes around your waist as he stares longingly at the metal piece, you say nothing, giving him the option to go on if he wants. After a brief moment of pause, he continues. 

“I tried to buy him a proper toy. Just once. He used to play with this, I thought maybe he was just bored because we spent so much time on the Crest. On one of my jobs I stopped and got him this little stuffed frog toy.”

You think of the frog he picked up from the lake all those moons ago. A pang of sorrow in your chest.

Every time he talks about the kid it seems like he’s talking more to himself than to you, this time is no different. He adjusts himself, standing up straighter so his chin rests atop your head now. He sways you gently to a song that only he hears.

“He tried to eat the damn thing, I tried to explain that it wasn’t for eating but he didn’t seem to care. Once he realized I wasn’t gonna let him eat it he lost interest, threw it into the fresher and went off to find this again.” He sets the ball back onto the shelf and just holds you for a moment. Just when you’re about to reach down to touch the hand he’s resting on your stomach he speaks again, in a whisper, like he isn’t sure he wants you to hear what he’s saying. “I used to worry that he was bored. Spending so much time on the ship with just me, without any of the things a child usually grows up with.” His grip on your waist tightens. “I thought for the longest time that he’d be happier somewhere else. Now I wonder if maybe he was content with what we had.” 

The more you let him talk out his feelings the more you realize that deep down Din is one thing above all. 

Someone who doesn’t think he is deserving of love. 

You turn around in his grip so you’re facing him and don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, holding him tight. You might not be ready to tell him you love him but that doesn’t mean you can’t show him that he is cared for. He doesn’t move for a moment but eventually holds you back. 

He makes no effort to pull away so you don’t either. Staying like that until you have to get the cakes out of the oven before you burn another batch. He follows you in silence as you set the new batch on the table, he reaches for one and you smack his hand away. 

“You’re gonna burn your hand, stop that. And I still need to frost them.” 

You turn back to the book for the recipe, happy that the two of you seem to be in mutual agreement to not talk about the current situation. As you start pouring the sugar to make the icing you hear a hiss of air, on instinct you turn to face the noise, not realizing until it’s too late that you shouldn’t. 

You should feel regret.

But Maker, how could you. 

Your eyes fixed on the way he parts his plush lips to take the chunk of pastry he tore off into his mouth, his finger lingering on his bottom lip and that tongue. Darting out to lick his fingers clean. The way the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. You know you shouldn’t look, he’s got the helmet pulled up just enough that you can see the tip of his nose which means he doesn’t even know you’re looking, there’s metal between his eyes and you. You can’t, this is so bad, shit. You just keep finding reasons to not look away, especially now that he’s smiling. You always thought his smile would be condescending, maybe a triumphant smirk, but it’s so… dorky. He’s got such a dopey grin.

Stars, he’s got a dimple. 

Are you still breathing?   

And you can finally see the facial hair you’ve only ever felt brush up against you. Surprisingly well kept, with a few small bare patches. You want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss each one of them but you’re quickly reminded of how bad this entire situation is as you hastily turn back around. Stirring the bowl in front of you, acting as if nothing happened. Only a few seconds after you’re facing the counter again do you hear the airlock reseal. 

You hear a sharp inhale and a part of you worries he knows you accidentally looked but he hisses again before cursing.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” You can hear him breathing heavily through his mouth into the modulator.

Thank the gods.

“I warned you.” You chastise him, turning around and pouring a generous amount of the cinnamon sugar icing onto each of the cakes while they’re still hot so it absorbs into them. “These need to sit overnight in the conservator.” 

“Okay, should I put them in now or when I get back tonight?” 

You know what he’s really asking. 

He wants to know if he’ll be staying with you or coming home alone.

The answer is obvious to you as you nudge the conservator open with your foot, sliding the tins onto one of the shelves. 

“I’ll do this now since you won’t be around to. Should we go?” You slip your shoes back on, watching as a bit of tension leaves his shoulders. 

“Sure.”

★

It’s a quiet walk back but it isn’t really uncomfortable. You just want to get him back to your room, where he’ll hopefully help you forget about this whole mess. 

You waste no time when you get to your chambers. You drag him to the closet, struggling to remove his armor, carefully setting each piece on the floor while he simultaneously lifts your shirt up over your head. Once you have every piece of beskar removed, you find yourself tumbling to the floor as he practically tackles you into the blankets. Both of you fumble for the lamp until finally you manage to flip the switch and it’s like he can’t get the helmet off fast enough because in what feels like a single second, you’re shrouded in darkness, you hear the the sound of air, a thud onto the ground, and his lips are on yours. 

You’re waiting for something more to happen, he’d been so urgent just a moment ago but now that you’re here he’s just kissing you.  

Of course you aren’t complaining. Every kiss with him feels like a blessing from the Maker themself. You’re just a little surprised. 

You had sort of hoped he had plans to ravage you solely for the purpose of distracting you from the question, still searing your every thought, demanding your attention. But instead he kisses you one last time before laying atop your chest, arms wrapped around you. You think about teasing him but there’s something cathartic about this. His willingness to just be with you without searching for more. So you let him.

And when he inevitably falls asleep, his monstrous snores filling the small space, you’re left alone with your thoughts. 

Well, thought. 

Do you love him? 

Do you want to love him? 

Loving him means too much. 

You tangle your fingers in his curls, in an attempt to soothe yourself. 

Loving him is complicated. It means you’ll have to finally answer the rest of the questions you don’t want to so much as think about.

Kids? Marriage? Kodo? Any sort of future.

Loving him puts him at risk. 

He’s always been at risk. His choice to love you meant putting his life on the line. Everyday he wanted to be yours was a day that he could be dragged off by one of your husbands unlimited guard members and killed. 

Loving him means understanding that you’re on a clock. A clock to get off of Naboo as quickly as possible, to somewhere far away to hunker down. To hide from the inevitable onslaught of search parties that would come after a missing royal. 

They’d send bounty hunters.

Kodo doesn’t even like you, but if you ran off with the man he hired to protect you? He would stop at nothing to get you back. The thought of what he would do to Din when he inevitably found the two of you makes your blood run cold. 

But you need to push those thoughts away. Yes, they are important but they shouldn’t impact your feelings. Because at the end of the day you either love him or you don’t. 

And you can’t even seem to figure that out. 

You’ve never been in love before, you don’t really have a frame of reference. 

You’ve certainly never felt for anyone the way you feel for him. 

Is that love? 

If you weren’t already married would you have said it back?

You aren’t even really a wife at this point. 

You’re a prisoner. 

You aren’t sure when he woke up but he brings you back to reality with a kiss to your chest. 

“You should be asleep, princess.” His voice is gravely, still thick with exhaustion. You run your hands along his vast shoulders in an attempt to soothe him back to sleep. 

“So should you.” You whisper into the darkness, he hums softly in response. 

It goes quiet again. His arms tighten around you and you know he remains awake, every so often he’ll place a chaste kiss to your breast. 

Would it be cruel to bring it up again?

At this point he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest that you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment and you can’t keep fighting these battles alone. 

If you love each other, talking about these things is something you would do. 

It might be nice. To not be alone with these thoughts for once. 

“Din?” 

He hums again in response. You feel the scratch of his stubble against your chest as his head turns in your direction. 

You should let him sleep. Shut up and not bother him with this. 

“What does love mean to you?”

It’s such a corny question but you really are curious.

“What did you say?” For a moment you’re worried you’ve upset him but his tone makes you think he genuinely didn’t hear you. 

“What’s it like, to love someone?” 

He chuckles softly and a wave of relief washes over you. 

“That’s an awfully complicated question, cyare.”

“Okay, then, how did you know?” You purposefully avoid saying the words, “that you loved me.” 

“It sort of snuck up on me. It started my first week with you, when being with you started feeling less like a job and more like an honor.” 

Does he have to be so good with words? Even in this state, barely awake, he manages to be a goddamn poet. 

“Eventually it got to a point where I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” He mumbles his words into your skin. 

“When was that?”

“When you gave me a birthday.” 

Right before he had ended things. 

You don’t have to ask to know now that that's why he did it. 

“And that was when you were sure?”

“Yes. That was when I knew I loved you.” 

If he’s upset about you not saying it back he doesn’t make it known, he says it so casually.

“What does it feel like?” You run your fingers along the scar on the back of his head. 

“It feels like being afraid. There is a certain vein of fear that I had never known prior to meeting the kid, when I los-“ He hesitates. “When he left, I didn’t think I’d ever feel that fear again.” He sighs. “When I met you I learned how to be afraid all over again.” 

You sort of understand that feeling.

You felt it when you thought Kodo knew. And you felt it when you imagined Kodo’s reaction to your hypothetical children with Din. 

You felt it just moments ago. When you asked yourself if you loved him. 

“It’s like all the air leaves the room, replaced with terror. That terror eats away at everything until there’s nothing left.”

All you can think of is the night you found him in the hallway, and you’re certain you’ve never felt that level of fear.

“It’s not all fear though. I assume it’s different for everyone but the fear is only a part of it. For me it mostly feels like devotion and temptation. I know what it is to be devoted, for decades I followed my creed without question, and when I finally did abandon it, it was a matter of life and death, fueled by that fear.”

He sounds half asleep as he says it, like he’s telling himself a bedtime story, and you don’t dare interrupt. 

“That’s how I feel about you, except in your case, nothing could make me question my devotion to you, not even a matter of life and death. And as far as temptation goes…” He laughs quietly to himself. “I was unfamiliar with that feeling before you.”

“Temptation?” You whisper to him.

“When will you understand what you are to me, sarad’ika?” He sits up a little, you can’t see him but you feel his nose bump against your jaw as he rests his face in the crook of your neck.

“I know how you feel about me, you tell me quite often.” You’re only half-joking.

“Not how I feel about you, what you are to me. You are so much more than the one I never meant to love, I swear you were created just to tempt me.” You let your hand rest on the nape of his neck as he absentmindedly brushes his lips up against your throat. “If you asked me to remove my helmet, I would.” He murmurs against your throat. 

That’s a rather serious claim.

“You could have asked me from the moment I met you. It took time for me to realize I loved you but I have always, been sworn to you.” His fingers trail up and down your torso. “From the moment I first saw you, when you tried to remove my helmet, I promised myself that if you ever tried again, that I wouldn’t stop you.

Maker. 

How the fuck do you respond to that?

“We can talk more in the morning. Get some sleep.” He kisses your temple and lays back down against your chest.

He can be annoyingly eloquent when he wants too. You can’t help but wish you were as capable of putting your feelings into words the way he does. Seriously, how are you supposed to top, “When I met you I learned how to be afraid all over again.” 

Maybe tomorrow you could try and show him how much he means to you. Since you can’t seem to find the right thing to say, and even if you could he’s already asleep again, snoring at an ungodly volume like he didn’t just profess his profound love to you.

But talking to him helped, from how he describes it, you might just love him too.

★

This morning is much more coordinated than your last. 

Din wakes you up before the girls arrive. You have plenty of time to pick out one of the simpler pink gowns in your collection, along with a matching pair of slippers. You leave him there with plenty of time to spare. 

The girls don’t question it this time either. Neither of them tries to go into the closet and they waste no time dressing you. Lysa finds you a nice pink nightie from the dresser but you honestly aren’t all that thrilled about it this time around.

It’s getting harder and harder to care about this. 

Being dressed up like a doll every day.

Din certainly doesn’t care about what you look like so why even bother at this point? You’re antsy to get back to him and you’re about to hastily thank and dismiss the girls as they finish but Elaine speaks first. 

“Princess, would you join me for tea this morning?” 

You have no logical reason to refuse and you do enjoy time spent with Elaine.

You just want to be with Din.

But you can’t tell her that. 

“Certainly, shall I meet you in the gardens again?” 

“I will see you there, my lady.” Both girls give you small bows before leaving. Only a few seconds after they’re gone the closet door opens and there stands your Mandalorian. He makes his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“Shall I escort you to the gardens, my lady?” He leans down a bit so your eyes are level with the line of his visor.

“Lead the way.”

It’s a short walk and you’re once again surprised by how quickly Elaine has set things up, a table and chairs wait for you in the gazebo.

“Do you think you could find something to do for a few minutes on your own?” You say quietly enough that you know only he can hear it as you approach. 

He doesn’t respond but as you step into the gazebo he doesn’t follow you in, once you’re seated he walks off into the garden. 

“Seems like things are better between the two of you?” She pours you a cup, making it the way you like it before handing you the saucer. 

“Much better.” You smile as you take a sip. 

“May I speak freely ma’am?” She sets her cup down and crosses her arms, staring at you. Her tone has gotten so serious so suddenly you’re a bit stunned. 

“Of course.” 

“Lysa and I stopped coming to help you undress in the evenings many moons ago, we stopped waiting for you to summon us.” 

What a strange thing to say. 

“Okay?” Is all you can manage, still unsure as to what she could possibly mean by that statement. 

“Well, my lady, we just assumed you didn’t need the help anymore…” She stares at you expectantly but you’re still giving her a confused look. “You know…” Her eyebrows are raised but you just shake your head slowly, giving her a blank stare. “With getting undressed.”

Oh.

Oh.

Not much you can really say about that, she’s right, and you hadn’t even noticed because someone else was undressing you. Still, she can’t expect you to outright admit that. 

“I don’t need you to say a word, my lady, I just needed to talk to you, to warn you.” Something about her tone makes you shiver, even out here in the sun. 

“About?” 

“You’ve been reckless, princess.” You set your cup down. 

“Spit it out Elaine, you’re making me nervous.” You laugh anxiously but her expression remains stern.

“Kodo won’t take your absence from dinner lightly. And you’ve been too blatant about your friendship with the Mandalorian. You should act with more caution.” 

Well, you had wanted her to be blunt, you can’t be too shocked about that. 

“He is not a man who takes kindly to disrespect. He will retaliate if you aren’t careful, that’s all.” You nod as she takes a sip of her tea.

That’s all she says on the subject, quickly moving on to another topic.

Her warning was genuine and you’re thankful for it but you push it from your mind. You will right this wrong and attend dinner with Kodo this week.

★

Tea is short after that.

You aren’t in the mood for small talk anymore, you just want to spend the rest of the day with Din.

You whisper a genuine thanks to her before she departs, and you rush over to where he stands in the flowers.

“Cabin?” He asks. Thankfully he doesn’t risk holding your hand in broad daylight but he lets his knuckles brush against yours. 

“Cabin.” You follow him towards the pond and once you’re close enough he scoops you up into his arms to keep you out of the water. “Din! What if someone sees?” You whisper yell at him, eyes scanning the vacant gardens. 

“This isn’t any less damning than you walking in on your own. Besides, no one’s around, promise.” He pushes open the door before setting you down, locking up behind the two of you. “I’ve lived here for long enough to know that nobody comes out this far except us. Now, what do you want for the rest of the day?” He kicks off his boots and you set your slippers next to them.

It’s past noon at this point, you have nothing planned. 

“Do you want to just stay here? I think today I just want to stay here.” You walk over to the bed, lifting your skirt and taking a seat. 

“Works for me, I’m going to get some chores done if you don’t mind.” He removes his gloves, tossing them on the table before kneeling beside the dresser. 

“I don’t mind at all.” You scoot back a bit to rest against the wall, you’re actually quite curious to see what he’ll do, and you need time to think of how you’re going to show him how much he means to you. 

You watch as he takes out different weapons and tech that you don’t recognize. He tosses his gloves to the side and starts methodically cleaning every item. 

You’re sort of hypnotized by his attention to detail, it lets you think.

What does he like? 

Green, you, the kid, classic ships. 

None of those things can really show him how much he means to you though. 

He’s setting different things aside as he finishes any maintenance required, every so often he looks up at you before returning to his work. You feel a little useless just sitting here so you get up to take the cakes out of the conservator. 

Suddenly you have his attention. 

You don’t dare say a word, letting him just observe in peace. He drops whatever he’s working on, you don’t look but you can feel his visor trained on you. 

You take the tins out, setting them on the table before finding a dull knife. Each cake is small enough that you can fit your hands around each tin if you hold your fingers in the shape of a circle. You carve each cake out of its tin and he watches you intently the entire time, you can see him in your peripherals. 

So he likes… watching you do a shitty job at taking cakes out of tins?

It’s crass but you go through the list of things that have worked him up before. Things you’ve said to get him to give you what you want during sex. 

Two instances come to mind. 

The time you unknowingly said I love you.

And then last night, when you told him he could finish inside you.

And now? Your head tilts up just in time to watch him adjust himself in his trousers before sheepishly tuning back to his work when you catch him watching you. It takes a second but eventually things start to click.

He likes watching you look at home in his cabin. He likes the intimate feeling of a simple life. Watching you bake, saying I love you, having kids. 

Things a normal couple might do. 

He tosses something up onto the bed, you stare at it for a moment as he starts putting other things back into the dresser.

Handcuffs. 

Thick, padded, and metal. 

You know he intends on using them on you but you act fast, hurrying over to him, taking his hand. 

“What are you doing mesh’la?” He chuckles as you sit him down on the bed.

This is gonna be a shot in the dark, but if you’re confident enough, (and right) it’ll be worth it.

“Just, let me take care of you.” 

“You already take care of me.” He insists, starting to get up but you firmly plant your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. Your plan is rapidly forming in your mind.

“I mean it, now stay put.” He sighs loudly but nods, tilting his head to the side in confusion. No sense in being coy, might as well be clear with your intentions to see if he’s actually into it. “Don’t be a baby, I know you get off on this kind of thing.” The moment you say it he scoffs but you’re already across the room, taking one of the little cakes and putting it onto a plate. 

“Excuse me?” “His voice is already terribly defensive but you just laugh it off. 

“You’re not the only one who can make observations. You think I didn’t notice the way your tone switched when I offered to bake for you?” He starts to argue but you cut him off. “And I’m definitely not going to ignore how quickly you came when I told you you could finish inside of me.” That surprisingly shuts him up. This might actually be the only time you’ve caught him so off guard that he doesn’t have a response. 

You bring the plate over to the bed, setting it on his nightstand.

“You like domesticity.” You lean in to whisper to him. “You want me to take care of you, don’t you Mr. Tough Mandalorian?” You can’t gauge his reaction because of the helmet but you can gauge the tent in his pants perfectly fine. 

“Djarin.” He certainly doesn’t sound stern now. 

“Djarin?”

“Din Djarin.” You hadn’t even realized until just now that you didn’t know his last name. 

You straddle one of his thighs, spreading his legs with your knees.

“Well then, let me take care of you, Din Djarin.” You like the way his name feels in your mouth and based on the way his cock twitches against your leg you’d reckon he does too. 

He’s always been so open with you and you’ve always kept him at a distance. 

Right here right now, if you weren’t dealing with the worst possible circumstances (your husband), you know that you’d tell him you love him, that you ache for him, that you know fear because of him. You know you love him. And you’re pretty sure he knows it too.

You just aren’t ready to say it. 

So you’ll have to show it. (And maybe say a few things that you are ready to say.) 

You love each other, at the end of the day you can’t keep censoring yourself when you think about him, he doesn’t deserve that. 

You want to show him what he deserves. 

You reach behind him and grab the cuffs. As you do his hands wrap around you to tug at your corset strings, an act that he’s getting rather good at. 

“You gonna put those on for me, mesh’la?” He drawls. Once he’s loosened your corset enough so that you’ll be able slip out of it you lean back again.

“No.” You grin at him and he immediately shakes his head. 

“Absolutely not.” He says the moment you start smiling.

“You’re always in charge, just let me be in charge, I’m doing this for you.” You grab one of his wrists but he easily pulls it away. 

“You were in charge last time.”

True, but irrelevant.

“Do you love me?” You stick your bottom lip out a little. 

“You’re terrible.” 

“I know.” But it works, because when you grab his wrist again he doesn’t pull away. 

“You know I can get out of these right? Very easily.” He says, watching you close the first cuff around his wrist, removing the belt around his torso and the one around his waist. 

“I know that too, but you love me, so you’re going to leave them on until I take them off.

“This feels less like you’re taking care of me and more like I’m your prisoner.” He mumbles. 

“Oh hush, you’d be happy either way.” Once again he seems at a loss for words as you cuff his other wrist, he sets his hands in his lap. You smooth out the fabric of his cowl before carefully removing it, folding it and walking it over to the table and setting it down. “I’ll make you a deal.” You say, turning back to face him. “If you don’t like it then I will stop and we can do this your way. But if you don’t then I will assume I was right, and you do want me to take care of you.” You straddle his thigh again and play with one of the releases on his chest plate.

“You’re being purposefully vague. What does taking care of me entail?” The impatience on his voice trails off as you start releasing his chestplate, finding the little locks, undoing them one by one. 

“Well… I just think that you like certain things, and I think you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“What things?” 

You click the last release and remove his chest plate, walking over to the dresser to set it down carefully before returning.

“You like that I baked for you.” You remove his gauntlets, setting them on his nightstand.

“Who wouldn’t like that?” You swear you almost hear him stutter. 

“Oh but I think you really like it. Because you know I did it just for you.” You remove his pauldrons and kneel between his legs to remove the pieces of armor on his thighs. “You like when I hold you, you like seeing me here, in your home, in your bed.” You slide his remaining armor down his legs, setting them aside before standing again and spreading his thighs with your knees to slot yourself between them, your hands grip the edges of his helmet. 

“Can I?” You whisper. 

After a moment's hesitation he nods. 

Your fingers snap the airlocks and you gently lift. 

Before closing your eyes you allow yourself one peek. 

You’re graced with a bashful smile, and you know that it’s okay, so you squeeze your eyes shut and completely remove the helmet, setting it on the bed beside him. Almost as if on instinct he leans forward and you feel his lips on yours as you gently push him back. 

“Let me do it, Din.” You laugh softly. “You don’t have to do everything.” You lean forward this time, hands on either side of his face, running your tongue over that bottom lip you wish you could see. “I’m going to take my dress off.” You mumble into his mouth before pulling back, you turn around and quickly slide your gown down your body, you grab the plate on his bedside table before closing your eyes and turning back around. His restrained hands play with the front of your nightie. 

“What are you-” His unfiltered voice is like warm honey, deep and raw, but you silence it by putting two fingers from your freehand to where you assume his mouth is. He starts to speak again so you gingerly slide your thumb between his lips and you hear any more questions he might have flicker out. 

“Can you go more than five minutes without asking me a question?” The moment you say it his lips purse like he’s going to ask again, you place your thumb over his tongue. Once you’re certain he isn’t going to interrupt your actions again you remove your hand from his face and tear a chunk of the cake off of the plate. “Open.” You laugh softly as you bring your hand towards his mouth, he immediately starts to protest again but you take the opportunity to stuff the pastry into his mouth, you get lucky and actually manage to get it in on the first try. 

If you’re being honest, you aren’t completely sure if this is going to work. You’re still acting on a hunch. A very presumptuous hunch, that deep down he wants nothing more than a quiet, soft life. 

A home. 

Unless of course you’re wrong. In that case you’re going to be rather embarrassed. Which is starting to be a worry as you realize he isn’t moving, two of your fingers just barely past his lips, he still hasn’t moved and you fell you nerves starting to get the best of you, just as you’re about to withdrawal and apologize for the entire silly affair, his lips close around your fingers. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling, accidentally taking a step back in surprise.    

His fingers immediately grasp at what fabric they can on your undergarments, trying to pull you closer again. You’re about to say something smug, along the lines of “I told you so.” But you’re stopped dead in your tracks.

Because Maker, he whimpers. 

You let him tug you back between his legs. The cold metal of the cuffs brushes against your thighs. 

You reach down and tear off another chunk of the cake, his bound hands guide you back to his mouth, which you're shocked to find is still open as you gently feed him. This time you don't flinch back, his lips close around your fingers and his tongue licks them clean.

This is the temptation he spoke of. 

You respect his creed. You’ve sort of taken your own creed, a vow to yourself not to look. But right now it takes all of your restraint to not look. Nothing could possibly make you happier than knowing what he must look like right now, lips wrapped around your fingers, trying to pull you closer. 

But just like him, you resist those temptations, finally pulling your hand away. 

“I told you I’d take care of you.” You whisper, a slight teasing edge to your voice.

“You’re a strange woman, sarad’ika.” He whispers back.

“So you don’t like this?” You tear off a piece for yourself, popping it into your mouth, feeling the icing coat your tongue. You bask in his silence before picking up the remaining pastry, gently feeding him, tossing the plate blindly onto the bed.

The only answer you need to your question is the way his tongue drags across your palm when he’s finished, you waste no time after that to push him down into the mattress. Letting your lips find his.

His mouth tastes just like it did the first time you kissed.

Vanilla. 

His arms go over your head, trapping you in his embrace. 

“Tell me I was right.” You pull back from him, grinning.

“I wouldn’t exactly go so far as to say that you were right.” His mouth latches to your chin, peppering a trail of kisses back up to your lips but you pull further back, as far as his arms will let you, eyes still shut.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that right? Because about thirty seconds ago you were quite literally eating out of the palm of my hand.” He continues trying to kiss you to silence you but you keep turning your head to the side, he settles on your jaw eventually. 

“That doesn’t prove anything, I’ve barely eaten anything today, maybe I was just hungry.” He mumbles against your skin. 

“Mhmm, sure. Are you sure you don’t like playing house? I think you like imagining me as Mrs. Djarin.”

Whoops. Where the hell did that come from? 

“Don’t say that.” His voice isn’t playful anymore as he sits up, keeping you in his lap. 

“Kriff, I’m sorry Din, that was too fa-” You hear a metal thud behind you on the floor and his hands are no longer cuffed, they hold your waist now. 

“If you don’t mean it, don't joke about that.” His breath is hot on your face and his grip on you tightens. 

If you don’t mean it. 

So you were right. 

Your mind screams at you to be rational. You have a husband, there are a million reasons to apologize and to move on from this. 

Stop using the husband that was forced upon you as an excuse.

You can’t keep holding back when it comes to Din. It isn’t fair to him. Not when he gives you everything. 

“If I do mean it, can I joke about it?” Your voice is the quietest it’s been all day. 

He takes your hands and brings them up to his face, so you can feel him nod. 

“I’ll keep joking about it if you tell me I’m right. I’ll joke all night long.” You laugh a little as he brings one of your hands to his mouth so he can kiss your wrist. 

“You’re right.”

You can’t help yourself.

“About?” 

“I like this.” He drags his lips down your arm before dropping it. “I like when you take care of me.” 

“Turn the lights off.” He doesn’t hesitate once you say it, the curtains are all already closed 

Once the lights are off he flips you onto your back, you hear everything on the bed clatter to the floor as he tosses it aside.

His bed is lower than yours so his hands grab you by your hips, lifting your bottom half into the air a little, making you squeak in surprise. 

“Tell me another joke.” He says under his breath as he spreads your legs so he can grind his still clothed erection against you. 

“I thought you were going to let me take care of you?” You scoff at him, hearing his zipper.

“I am,” You gasp as he drops you back down onto the mattress, climbing on top of you. “I’m letting you tell me jokes.” You can practically hear his grin as he guides the blunt head of his cock into your folds. Lazily rubbing it against your clit and leaning down to whisper to you. “You started this with all your talk, is that all it was? Talk? I thought you said you meant it?”  

You’re trying to remember how he got the upperhand so quickly but it’s hard to concentrate when he keeps nudging himself against your most sensitive spot.

Everything always happens so fast with him, just once you’d like to turn things around on him and have it work.

“I-I meant it.” Is all you really manage to get out, he brings his cock down a bit to tease your entrance, never actually pushing in. His voice has that condescending tone to it that tells you he’s willing to play this game for a while and you hadn’t really factored in just how aroused you’d get during your display a few minutes ago. You’re soaked and there’s a good chance he’s going to draw this out in retaliation. He swipes his tip back up to your clit, the both of you hiss in unison. 

You still have one ace up your sleeve as you recall your conversation from last night. 

“So you liked one of my offers?” 

“I might have been interested in one of them”

One thing you know he wants. 

“Come on, sarad’ika. Where are your jokes?” He chuckles against your skin as he kisses your shoulder. 

“I was just trying to think of a baking joke. Can you give me a second?” You gasp out as his free hand reaches underneath you to squeeze your ass before coming up to rest on your hip. 

“I know you can do better than a baking joke.” You can feel him grin against you now, his teeth lightly graze your shoulder.

“It’s a shame, you would have liked it.” He goes back to teasing your entrance, pressing himself into you just enough to make you squirm but not enough to actually be inside you. You try to shift your hips downwards but his hand keeps you pinned in place. 

“I liked your jokes about Mrs. Djarin.” 

It’s now or never.

“Well you liked my cooking as well, so I thought I’d make a joke about a bun in the oven, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Filling me u-”

His hips buck forward and his grip on you tightens to the point of a sharp pain. To seemingly both of your surprises, in an instant he’s buried nearly to the hilt in your heat. 

“Maker, Din!” You’re gonna have a brand new set of bruises tomorrow. 

“Sorry! I, fuck- sorry.” He’s grunting in your ear, not bothering with your shoulder anymore, burying his face into the pillow next to your head. 

“Dank farrik, Din…” You’re reeling from the sudden motion, your head tilted back into the mattress. You need to catch your breath but the muffled groans coming from him distract you. The sting from the sudden stretch you're experiencing is quickly fading and you bring your hands up to his head, one resting in his hair and the other at the nape of his neck. 

He wanted to make this a game so you’re going to play, and you’re going to win.

You’re still panting a little as you turn your head to the side so you can whisper into his ear. 

“Stars Din, it’s that easy to get you worked up, huh?” His breathing is starting to level out, his grip on you lightens up. “I thought I was easy to rile up but look at you, all this just at the thought of a bun in the oven.” 

He isn’t making noise anymore, he’s still against you, listening intently as you run a soothing hand down his spine and back up again. 

“I can’t imagine what you’re going to be like when you actually get me pregnant.” 

You’re surprised by your own words, like your brain is on auto-pilot and you can’t filter yourself but he fucking whines so you don’t care in the slightest. High pitched and needy, muffled by the pillow. His hips start slowly rocking into you and you bite back your moan, wanting to maintain your advantage. 

You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his head out of the pillow, savoring the whimper that comes from his as you do.

“Oh come on, you can’t even  handle the thought of it?” You breathe out the words and his head falls downwards as you release him, he bites your shoulder. “What does it for you?” He unclenches his jaw, starting to bury his face back into the pillow but you pull him back up again.

“Is it just the idea of finishing in me?” 

He doesn’t answer, to be fair you’re barely holding it together either at this point.

“Or do you just want everyone to know I’m yours? Want everyone to see that you knocked me up?”  

You get your answer with that because he’s trying to bury his face back into the pillow. A low wail leaves his lips as he frantically ruts into you. How quickly everything’s escalated has you hurtling towards your climax and you can tell by the desperate whine that leaves his lips as he presses them into your collar bone that he won’t be far behind. 

“I know you can do better than that, Din.” You mock his tone from earlier but he’s unfazed, pounding into you until finally you can’t tease him anymore because he’s reduced you to gasps and moans.

It doesn’t take long after that. 

One after the other.

You first, when his hand travels downwards, it takes only a few precise circles rubbed into your clit and your grip tightens in his hair, your walls flutter around him.

Just like that he’s going over the edge with you.

He pulls out, finishing on your stomach. 

You shouldn’t feel upset but there's the tiniest bit of disappointment as you feel his cum against your skin. 

He collapses onto the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“I love you.” He presses a kiss into your hair. 

“I know.” 

★

You sit in the quiet dark for a long while, until finally, you have to ask.

“Do you actually want kids someday?” Your voice breaks the silence of the pitch-black room. “Little Djarin’s running around?” 

He rolls over so he’s hovering above you now.

“Are you trying to start round two?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours, your nose bumps against his. “I’ll need a few more minutes before I can go again, sarad, but I can keep you occupied until then.” He kisses you quickly, already starting to move his mouth south but you stop him. 

It’s so effortless right now. To be happy with him, in the darkness, pushing away thoughts of royal responsibilities. Letting yourself be with just Din, even if it’s brief. 

“I’ll take that as a yes?” You ask.

“Yes. Someday.” He kisses your sternum, laying down on your chest.

“With me?” 

“No, with Elaine.” You smack the back of his head when he says it, he laughs against your skin. “Yes, with you.” 

You let him lay on top of you as you nod to yourself. 

“Is it weird that everytime we have sex it turns into a competition?” He starts to laugh once more as you say it.

“It’s weird that you keep losing.” 

You smack him again.

★

Your peaceful break from reality is brief, as always, as you sit up. 

“We have to go. I can’t be out all night.” The last thing you want to do is return to your room right now, you want to stay here, the cabin feels more like home than any room in the castle ever has. 

He seems as unhappy with this as you are. The two of you dress in silence once he flicks the lamp back on, you turn around until you hear him reattach his helmet. 

You hold his hand on the walk back. You don’t have much to say right now, you’re certain at this point that you’ve made it clear that you love him.

That you just aren’t ready to say it. 

And he doesn’t seem to mind. 

You’re ready to just sleep. Your blanket nest seems more and more inviting the closer you get to the castle. 

The two of you sneak in through the back entrance and as always the castle is quiet at night. You keep your hand in his as you make your way up the steps. 

It isn’t until you get to the hallway where your chambers are located that you hear it. 

A persistent banging sound and someone yelling incomprehensibly. 

Din immediately drops your hand. 

Neither of you speaks as you walk but he shifts himself so he’s walking ahead of you, as you get closer you recognize the distinct, nasally voice. 

In the dim light of the hall you see Kodo, banging on your bedroom door.

“Wife, come now, you can’t ignore me, I’m your husband.” He hisses, you can smell the alcohol on him from here.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Kodo, are you okay?” You plaster on a faux look of concern as you approach, Din tries to put his hand up to stop you but you ignore it. 

He turns to stare at you, his clothes are askew and he isn’t even wearing his crown. 

“Wife! Where have you been?” He slurs, leaning in for a kiss that you sidestep, he doesn’t seem bothered by your rejection. 

“I went on a walk.” You answer quickly and he takes hold of your waist, you try not to look too repulsed.

“You skipped dinner yesterday, dear wife.” He teeters a bit, leaning towards you as you again try to avoid his kiss but this time he holds you firmly in place, it’s sloppy and you have to wipe a bit of spit from your face after.  

“I did, I wasn’t feeling well.” Your voice is getting smaller and smaller as you feel fear bubbling in your chest.

“Where are your guards?” There’s no respect in Din’s voice, no “your highness” or “your grace.” No one speaks to Kodo that way, not even you, but he’s too drunk to even notice. 

“I dismissed them, as is customary when one is visiting his bride’s chambers.” Kodo lurches forward, his hands sloppily grope the fabric of your skirt and you make an audible groan of discomfort. 

“We should get you back to your own chambers, come now dear husband.” You try to sound patient, you know he’s capable of violence and you don’t want to push him in this state.

“Why would we do that, wife? Come now, tonight I shall join you in bed. I missed you last night.” He hisses the words and you know he didn’t miss you in the slightest, this is a punishment.

This is what you get for disobeying. 

For skipping your dinner with him.

This is the inevitable thing that has made you unable to tell Din you love him. This looming promise of Kodo.

There’s nothing you could possibly do right now to escape the fate before you. The fear you feel right now is certainly not the fear of love that Din described to you. 

But that quickly changes.

You don’t get a chance to react as Din takes a step between you and Kodo, he doesn’t even wind up, he just drives his fist forward and you hear the sickening crunch of your husband's nose just before he slumps to the floor. 

As you stare at Din, you know your fear has changed. His shoulders heaving, his rage fills the corridor as you listen to his ragged breaths through the modulator. He turns around to face you, but you just stare at his hand, where the evidence of this potentially deadly mistake is dripping down his fingertips. You have never been more terrified for another person's life the way you are right now for Din. 

You’re mesmerized by the little speckles of your husband's blood, a stark contrast to the yellow fingertips of his gloves.

And suddenly it feels like all the air leaves the corridor as you finally look into his visor, you don’t see Din though, all you see is what they’re going to do to him for this.

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[xxsycamore]

OFFICE ACTIVITIES

╰┈➤ ❝ That's why I can't go on with my day before I do this to you. I need to see you squirt on my fingers, and I need it now. ❞

Roy Mustang x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Office Sex; Secret Workplace Relationship; Semi-Public Sex; risky sex; Desk Sex; Sexual Fantasy; Dirty Talk; a lot of dirty talk; Teasing; Kink Negotiation; Glove Kink; ROY'S GLOVES; you know where they're going; Hand & Finger Kink; Finger Sucking; mouth fucking (w fingers); Begging; Praise Kink; Pet Names; Roy is both rough and very loving; Female Ejaculation; Squirting; and i mean SQUIRTING; squirting is the main focus of this fic; Vaginal Fingering; Multiple Orgasms; Overstimulation; Masturbation; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Kissing; Neck Kissing; Aftercare; Some Humor; Light Dom/sub; Dominant Roy; Dacryphilia • wordcount: 5,211 • masterlist

"Colonel, you wanted to see me—"

"Lock the door."

Blinking, you look at Roy's silhouette where he remains with his back to you in his chair, facing the windows of the sunlit office. You do a small bow while complying like a good subordinate, even when he won't see it, and lock the door from the inside. Still, you can't help but let out a small sigh. The pile of paperwork on his desk is bigger than what you saw this morning, when you expected to find it at least halved by now. But alas. And while everyone is away taking care of their own duties, you have the office to yourselves today, so locking the door is hardly necessary…

"With all due respect Colonel, you really, really don't have to hide the fact that I'm helping you with paperwork. I'm sure everyone knows by now."

Roy spins in his chair bossily, raising a hand to signal he doesn't want to hear more. "I'm not going to ask you to do that."

"No, seriously, it's okay, I-"

"Come here."

You do as told, ready to take the load he'll hand you from another pile, or something else to be taken care of in his stead, anything, really. He's in the habit of procrastinating often, you know your Colonel well. There is something almost endearing about it, when he doesn't realize how bad he is at masking it.

He's gesturing you to stand not in front of his desk but rather to join his side, and you do, finding yourself close enough to notice even how the irritation colors his gaze to make it fiercer. Once you're where he summoned you, Roy removes the folder he was holding in his lap and throws it on the desk.

This tricks you into thinking that the folder is the object of importance in this exchange. When your eyes shift to those of the Colonel for further cues as to what is wanted of you, your attention is inevitably stolen.

Roy's blue uniform trousers are tented with an obvious erection.

Face heating up, you quickly close your slightly agape mouth and try to look anywhere else, and disastrously you meet his gaze. Judging by the way he does nothing to hide the fact that he has a noticeable hard-on, or by the way he looks you right in the eye, you have the feeling that you'll get to live another day. Then he speaks again.

"I can't work like that."

His tone is stern, not even a whisper; something akin to one of his less-straightforward orders that would see him click his tongue when failed to comprehend by the other party.

And you don't want to disappoint.

"I understand. You can't work like that indeed, Colonel…"

And you do understand. If he went this far, then that's all you need to understand that you're allowed to lower your guard now.

It's all so natural with you when Roy beckons you into his lap, and you don't lose time maneuvering yourself because you've claimed this seat dozens of times already; your Colonel has a high sex drive. Despite being lovers after work hours, he still needs you during the day, when you're stuck playing this game of pretend. Or maybe that part is exactly what entices him?

Claiming his lips for an impatient kiss, you can't help the small grunt that escapes your throat as soon as Roy's hands begin roaming and foundling about your chest.

The worst part, you never get used to this.

With color on your cheeks, you try your hardest not to hump his leg and miss entirely the point of your being summoned here. You place another chaste kiss on his lips, boldly taking the decision of when enough is enough as you nudge things forward. Undoing the first button of his uniform, you make place for your lips to touch the heated skin underneath. To feel his hot pulse under your tongue as you place kitten licks there.

Roy's curiosity leaves him enjoying the show as you find your footing again, removing yourself from his lap and instead sinking to your knees with a thud. Your hands make their way downward on his torso and then fall on his thighs, his clothed arousal right in front of you.

"You should've told me sooner, Colonel… I could sneak under your desk, I could even stay there while you attempt to take care of those documents… With the way I'm hidden, surely the door doesn't even need to be locked."

You time your suggestion with palming the tent of his trousers, eager to feel how your words get to his head. But he only smirks.

"As much as I feel compelled, no."

It leaves you confused as you stand between Roy's legs. It's rare for him to refuse a blowjob, the balance of powers in this game of teasing is once again off in favor of his striking dominance.

"On the desk. Now."

Pulse quickening, you find your head clouded when you rise to your feet again. Roy all but backs you onto the desk with his body, your legs parting to make space for him in between.

His backlit frame only highlights the darkness of his eyes as he has you cornered; you prop yourself up on your elbows and wait for something, anything.

"You know, you're the reason I can't do my work right now. I've been thinking about you again. About fingering you."

Fuck. This close up, you're sure he can observe even the tiniest of bodily reactions he rips out of you with words alone. The slight twitching of your leg, the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you realize you're at fault for his hard-on. The expectation in your wide eyes that are pleading him to share the images birthed by his brilliant mind that led to this.

"That's why I can't go on with my day before I do this to you. I need to see you squirt on my fingers, and I need it now."

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you swear you can feel the blood pumping in your veins turn to liquid fire as you burn from the inside. Something deep in your belly awakens, steals your resolve and fills your mind with cries of hunger.

Roy wants to make you squirt; to send your body into tremors overpowering your very control of it until you're helpless and making a mess of his hand, of possibly everything - the thought is almost scary, for reasons unknown to you, and you shiver. The signals your brain unwittingly sends south make you feel a certain pressure rooted deep within your core - as if, almost by his spoken command alone, your body can obey and leak arousal through the layers of clothing that you want gone now.

And so you begin to undress, making him chuckle with your impatience. He meets your hands halfway and easily takes over with his much steadier ones, unshaken by building lust unlike you - even if his firm erection which is now pressing against your thigh says otherwise.

He mutters something about how much easier this process would be if you were wearing a miniskirt right now and not those troublesome uniform pants - and the distraction returns some blood to your head as you exaggerate a sigh followed by a tiny laughter. It makes the task of taking off your uniform jacket and unbuttoning your shirt easier.

Unlike the hushed pace of removing the article of clothing, Roy noticeably slows down while peeling the underwear off your lower half, enjoying how he renders you naked and completely on display before him. He pokes a firm index finger on your glistening folds to part them, and you can see his gaze clouding with desire as he inspects the wetness seeping from your core.

Before you can avert your eyes, he locks his with yours. The gentle caress of his warm palm on your belly right over your womb startles you.

"Do you think you can do this for me?"

The whine coming from deep in your throat surprises you, and you feel as if you can get off on this simple, chaste sensation alone. Your pussy throbs in neglect.

"Please."

Roy mocks you just a little bit with his laughter for receiving pleas in place of an answer. Even if it works just about alright with him.

Instead of feeling his fingertips returning to your folds, upon withdrawing, you hear a desk drawer opening. Willing your heart to take the chance and relax, your eyes follow Roy's ministrations as much as they can. He takes something from the drawer and - to your utter surprise, it's a new pair of white pyrotex gloves.

Your legs twitch in a manner of closing, instinctively, as you stare at Roy confused.

"Don't play coy now, I know you've always wanted this. You can't take your eyes off my hands when I'm wearing those."

You puffer your bottom lip, defeated. He's way too observant. Or you're way too horny when it comes to this, to him. Especially now that the only thing you can call the display of his fingers pushing their way inside to find their designated places, vain at the back of his hand protruding, ministrations rougher and rushed because he's not touch you right now, is simply pornographic. They look so good on him, stressing the deftness and length of his beautiful fingers, the flame alchemy transmutation circles at the back stark red to remind they're no ordinary gloves.

"But… isn't this…"

"Dangerous? You think I'd put you in danger?"

There's irony in that line when it comes out of the mouth of Roy Mustang putting on the gloves that give him the name of the Flame Alchemist, but you can will your brain into pushing through the surface to see the offering of trust here. Especially because he is so dangerous is that line so delightful, stroking the trust of your heart that would let him do everything, anything to you.

Combined with his touch returning to caress your skin, this time on the inside of your thigh, you genuinely relax - but only for a second, because you're now busy trying to commit to memory every second of feeling the texture of his gloves on your naked, sensitive skin.

"Besides… I thought you love to say that they're useless when wet."

. . . . .

"Pfft—"

"Are you laughing now?" Roy's eyebrow arches as he stares you down, one part genuine disappointment, one part overemphasis as he knows you'll only laugh harder at his reaction. And laughter is a good balm for relieving the nervousness that made your belly noticeably tense up and cave into itself.

His thoughtfulness goes mostly unnoticed as your laughter quickly morphs into another whine as Roy's glove-clad hand brushes against your arousal. The touch is feather-light, yet when looking down you can unmistakably see the glistening juices on the tip of his middle finger where he used it to swipe along the slit of your pussy.

"Have you fantasized about this before?"

Roy is awful for ending most of what he says with the curve of a question, giving tasks to your brain that are a little too hard to take on. He drives your mind to a place inside the darkest nooks and corners of your perverse imagination where you see yourself stealing his gloves to masturbate with. Or where he's letting out his frustrations on you, you being dragged in an ally just meters away from where some bastard managed to run away from him, tarnishing his plans. You love how he fights but manages to never get his hands dirty. Being dragged to these dangerous missions that give you the chance to see him in action never fails to mix pure, incontrollable desire with the adrenaline running through your veins.

"Yes…" You confess in a tiny voice, and Roy rewards you with another barely-there touch, even if it aims not to bring you pleasure but to simply coat his fingers in your juices and prepare them for penetration. Roy raises them up for you to see. You're already wetter than when you'd finish fingering yourself to the thought of him, and it makes your face red with embarrassment.

"How unfair. I remember being way more concrete when sharing what goes in my mind than you, just now. But I will allow it… you seem to have a hard time forming coherent words right now."

Your brain goes haywire with the rising expectation of feeling him either on your clit or inside you first - the seconds stretching out endlessly before he finally makes his attack, the tip of his middle finger rubbing the tense muscles of your entrance.

Roy is careful as he pushes his finger in, having a good idea about the impact of this long-awaited exploration of the material of the gloves in your most sensitive place.

You're erratic, body spasming to suck him in deeper and pelvic arching to scratch the itch you have deep inside. The fabric adds a delicious layer of thickness to his already girthy finger, but…

"Not- enough— More…!"

Roy clicks his tongue. "You're way too impatient. I'm already being so generous to you, pushing my fingers inside you to give you what you want. Perhaps you can learn from a little exercise before we continue."

Roy's finger exits your heat roughly, in vivid contrast to how he entered you, bringing forth more wetness that helplessly leaks on the office desk. You exhale heavily in defeat, pleading Roy with a wet gaze. He remains unwavering, like training a dog that refuses to obey, and raises his other, dry hand to your face with fingers stretched forward.

The little cute tilt of your head has him letting out a mocking sneaker, and he suppresses the need to scold you for needing verbal orders as well.

"Suck."

Following every little twitching of your pupils as your eyes get hazed with the desire to worship him, Roy is not sure if your mouth falls open to moan or to take him in first. Either way, his fingertips already register the softness of your lips, even through the texture of the glove.

You part your lips further with the intention to fit two of his fingers in your mouth, and Roy allows it. Your tongue explores them, tracing over the seam running down the sides, then the junction of his index and middle fingers. You suck there, barely remembering to look Roy in the eye like you wanted to instead of remaining with your eyes closed in bliss.

He looks… aroused. With how much composure he possesses, the thought of how, in turn, you might look right now scares you. But you can't do anything about it - this, too, is a major fantasy of yours. And it only gets better.

Withdrawing with a wet pop, next you hope to fit another finger in, if Roy is willing to bring them closer together, and he quickly gets the idea.

This is his left hand that he uses to do this to your mouth, and he is still so very skillful with it. He tricks you into thinking you could do whatever you want with his three fingers in your mouth, but as soon as you lower your guard, Roy shifts their position, grabbing your tongue.

Your eyes widen, pathetically trying to call out to him in the one moment your ability to speak is stolen. Roy enjoys the muffled sound that resembles his name and continues to hold out your tongue between his fingers, watching you begin to droll.

From there on it's easy for him to shift his fingers once more, placing them flat against your wet tongue before gathering them together again…and beginning to slide them on your tongue.

The place between your legs is burning, and it feels like torture when you already know what it feels like when he pleasures you. You'd much rather he didn't touch you there at all before this, inner walls contracting to chase after the faint memory of his single digit's shape where it was buried inside you.

Roy fucks your mouth with his gloved fingers, and you moan around them. It's a filthy display, with your cunt dripping on his desk, and he can't avert his gaze for a second.

"Enjoying yourself? Maybe I can keep doing this until you cum and we end things here?"

Alerted, you want to communicate your wish to go all the way with what he planned for you, and to speak you need to withdraw - but the second you lean back, Roy's hand pushes forward, following your movement without letting you escape.

Just before you can choke, Roy removes his fingers from your mouth, and you see how much they're covered in your saliva. The risk did things to you you're unwilling to admit.

"Okay, I get it. You need more."

Finally able to take mouthfuls of oxygen again, you feel silly for being so worked up and breathless from just this. But Roy likes what he sees, especially when you try to present your cunt better for him, spreading your legs further apart.

"You're absolutely leaking…"

"Colonel, Please…" You beg, attaching the honorific to your pleas because you know the effect it has on him. "Colonel Mustang, please fuck me with your fingers. Make me squirt."

He returns his right hand to the burning skin of the apex of your thighs, tracing along your outer lips with a small hum.

"Okay then. Let's make your cunt squirt for me."

You throw your head back a second too quickly, as the heavenly feeling of Roy entering you again domineers over the bits of decency left in you. His finger bottoms out in you, swirls around until his palm is facing downwards, and is taken out again - just for you to instead feel the tips of middle and ring fingers prodding your hole next, in the same position.

"Nghh—" You groan, remembering to breathe as Roy explores your tight insides. You begin to relax, and the movement of his fingers gradually becomes smoother. The wet sounds of his entry come to your ears every time he pushes out the way out and pushes in again, and they embarrass you a little.

After a good few strokes like this, Roy turns his hand around.

He keeps his fingers buried deep inside, unmoving save for his fingertips that begin to search around, prodding into your front wall, looking for that spongy part inside you that will make you see stars.

More heat rushes to your lower body and you let a particularly loud gasp when Roy finds it. He mutters a word of self-satisfaction and repeats the motion, hitting your G-spot.

The pleasure begins to build with a dangerous speed, and you barely contain your moans. There's still something missing, but if you receive it right now, it will be too much.

Roy knows your body and its limits well. He doesn't force the pleasure on you, and keeps a steady but slow pace. Monitoring your sweet sounds, he is careful as to when to move on to the next step.

"I'm going to touch you here next."

Narrating his ministrations, he manages to make you focus. You fix your position on the desk again, making sure to watch what he's doing.

Roy puts the thumb of his left hand flat on your clit. At first, the mere presence of it is enough to send sparks of stimulation deep inside you, creating a loop of pleasure with where his fingers are buried, but you get used to it quickly. Then, he begins to rub your aroused nub, and you go erratic once again.

"Ahh— Too much-"

"Shh, I got you." He gives you a break, simply resting his thumb there without caressing, while he focuses on thrusting his fingers in and out.

Your heavy breaths are entangling with needy moans as the pleasure builds, this damned feeling of not enough threatening to eat you up from the inside. Roy knows your body well in combination with masterfully reading your reactions, and generously gives you more when you ask for it. The balls of your feet press harder into the surface of the desk near the very edge of it, your torso lifting just a little bit, to chase after Roy's movements inside you. He lets you rock back into his fingers, more wetness coming out and lubricating his entry.

"I'm going to speed up now. Tell me if you need to stop."

You breathe heavily through your nose, nodding your head more times than he needs for confirmation, and it makes him chuckle. The corners of his lips don't stay curled for longer than a second because of his growing concentration.

The rubbing on your clit returns, and Roy's fingers don't slow down. Standing there with nowhere to escape but to receive his rough, filthy yet loving pleasuring, you grip the edge of the desk behind your back preparing yourself, as it builds up.

"Roy- it feels a bit strange—"

"In a good way? Like you wanna go?"

Your answer comes a bit late because your mouth is stuck falling open in the face of those unfamiliar sensations. You hurry to blurt it out before stops, god forbid.

"In a very good way…! Just please, don’t stop!"

Not needing to be told twice, Roy keeps the pace, firmly hitting that same spot inside you with his fingers while rubbing on your clit. He watches your body spasm as you let out a scream, and then it happens.

Liquid begins to stream out of you, coating Roy's fingers - a small flow at first, before you all but hear the sound of a squirt escaping you.

"Mmm…" Roy grunts at the sight and the feeling of you closing up from the inside on him, fingering you through it until your body begins twitching too much. Careful not to overstimulate you, he withdraws your fingers, causing a smaller squirt to flow out.

Breathing heavily with your mouth open, you close your legs a little bit now that Roy's hands aren't between them, and you look at the puddle next to them. When you return your gaze to Roy, he's looking straight at you, leaning in for a kiss.

He's definitely not kissing you enough during all of this, but you don't feel too cocky right now to complain about that. Not when his kiss feels so rewarding.

"My good girl. I knew you could do it. Did that feel good?"

Roy drinks down your small noises of lingering satisfaction, and you whisper a breathless 'yes' before kissing him yet again. It makes you a bit too distracted, and you almost jump at the feeling of his hands parting your legs again.

"Think you could do it again?"

You look at him in disbelief, but it might be directed at yourself and the ridiculously deepening arousal you feel more than anything, your core pulsing in anticipation, aching to feel Roy's fingers again.

He knows that look. Pecking your lips with his once again, he slips his fingers in.

"Put your hands around my neck."

Your heart leaps at the command and you shift your body, grabbing into him for purchase. Your ass is on the edge of the desk now, and you're holding Roy for dear life, his broad shoulders being your anchor.

"Will it be easier for you this time, hmm? You're nice and open for me."

"Roy… don't say things like that…"

"But it's true. I love knowing that I can make your body soft and pliant, letting me do such a naughty thing with it."

You groan and shove your head in the junction of his neck and shoulder, warming the skin with your breath.

"Don't hide. Come on, kiss me."

It's easier said than done, when the sensation of what is happening between your legs rules over every coherent part of your mind. Roy knows your kiss would be lacking and sloppy, and maybe that's exactly why he wants it.

His tongue shoves between your agape lips, dominating yet another part of you as he continues to finger you while avoiding the place that is swollen and needy for his touch, as if testing if you can start leaking juices again even without the stimulation.

The strange feeling builds again, and this time you're not afraid of it. You break the kiss to plead.

"Roy…Roy! Touch me more! Now!"

Hearing the low rumble laced with dark wanton deep in his throat, you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he begins stroking your clit again.

Your moans of his name grow from encouraging to warning, as you feel the water balloon deep in your core close to popping once again. And then it happens.

Large portions of liquid fall noisily to the floor, mixing up with the sound of water squirting out of your body. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as a purely physiological reaction, the pleasure playing a big part in it.

Roy's large palm is so warm as it moves up and down whole, unlike how he'd only move his fingers earlier, and you feel played like an instrument; like you're close to witnessing the true strength in him that you lustfully admire finally inflicted on your body - in the most perverse, but loving and safe kind of ways.

"Gods— I can't tear my eyes off of you. Look at you."

Planting his forehead against yours, your eyes trail from his beautiful lashes up close to the place he's admiring, and you have to fight a surge of embarrassment. This is what he made out of you, you're so very his in this moment.

"Roy…—Ahh-"

He speeds up again, not having left your core for a moment, and you feel yourself starting to do it all over again, even if it's more of a current flowing out of you instead of the earlier powerful jets. What builds up inside you is different this time, a feeling you know all too well, something that you were lingering along the surface of for the past few minutes but that was always pushed to the back of your nerves in the face of the new, unfamiliar sensations.

"Come for me. Come on my fingers."

Roy fingers you silly, your walls clamping down on him as he does it just the way you love, no tricks this time to conquer your body, he just gives it to you. And you take it oh so willingly and greedily.

It takes no time for you to reach the heavens, and you moan out his name once again, feeling the electricity of an orgasm surge through every nook and corner of your being, toes curling in pleasure.

Roy holds you through it, making sure you ride your high all the way. Towards the end of it, your leaking hole begins helplessly pushing out more liquid.

"Roy�� Too much—Roy-"

"Fuck." He curses as he slowly withdraws his fingers, noticing how thickly they're covered in your warm juices all the way down his palm. He enters you with one finger to tease just a little, meeting no resistance. "Fuck." He repeats as he reaches down to palm his bulge. He moves to his belt and begins undoing it in a hurry.

Pulse beginning to drum in your ears, you continue holding onto his tall frame as your eyes widen. Just how worked up did that make him? You figure he must be painfully hard by now, watching you perform the one thing that would get him erect relying on fantasies alone.

Wrapping the hand dripping with your juices around his cock, he uses the slick to lubricate his pumps as he pleasures himself at the sight of you. It lights a new fire inside you and you can't help but watch; the reddened head of his cock, the vein running down his side protruding with the rush of blood, and his culmination dragging closer.

He lies you back down on the desk and you place your hands below your hips, opening up more for him, so Roy can get a nice view of your still swollen lips and pulsing hole. He moves in closer, bringing his strokes so close to your pussy that it makes you clench down so hard when he accidentally brushes the tip against your inner thigh.

"You're perfect. So perfect for me- Haah—"

You rarely hear him let out more than a grunt, a man in control of himself even in the face of consuming wanton. It's rewarding, knowing that it's you who turned him into that. There's nothing more that you want right now than to watch him spill all over your spent cunt, coating it with his warm cum.

Roy keeps stroking, and you wonder if he's fallen prey to the heightened stimulation of the gloves too, seeing that he didn’t bother to take them off even after making use of the juices coating them. It could be this that works him to orgasm so soon, or it could be everything else combined with it, but you soon hear the familiar sounds of him losing control.

In the next moment he erupts, hot-white pleasure reaching to his very gaze as you see him taking in the sight of you hungrily. Warm ropes of cum land on you one after another as Roy pumps his cock, the swollen tip kissing your sensitive folds.

He loses the inner fight and presses forwards, pushing the bulbous head of his cock inside you, moaning as another gush of semen leaves him and fills you with scorching warmth.

You mewl at the unexpected contact, shudders of pleasure rippling through your body as you continue to feel his cum even after he removes his cock from inside you. You feel it drip out thickly, mixing with the rest of the mess left by your passionate session.

"Kiss me, Roy!"

"So demanding…" Hurrying to comply with your weak, adorable command, Roy seals your lips with his before you can scold or bite him. With how good he seemed to be making you feel, he's not too worried about facing those protests, though.

You and Roy remain like that for awhile, catching your breaths but losing them right anew in passionate kisses, not breaking off the contact even as he tucks himself back in his trousers and readjusts his messed-up clothes, removing his gloves as well. He tells you to wait for him as he goes to take something to clean you off with, but you just cling harder to his frame.

"Stay a little longer…"

He exaggerates a sigh but still smiles stupidly against your nape.

The late morning sun has nothing on the warmth that comes from Roy's embrace, and you bask in it.

"You know…" He begins, playing idly with your hand with his now bare one, as if he had started missing the direct touch so soon. You hum in question, and he continues.

"I want to take care of those documents even less now."

"…ROY!"

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#fullmetal alchemist #fma #roy mustang #fma roy #fmab roy #fullmetal alchemist roy #fullmetal alchemist roy mustang #fma x reader #roy mustang x reader #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood roy #fullmetal alchemist smut #fullmetal alchemist fanfic #fma fanfic #roy x reader

[cheapshrimpysheep]

First Date - Ignihyde

SUMMARY: What would your first date with Idia be like? I know first dates might not go so well, but let's pretend this is different. ;) In Ortho's case, you are more like his new older sibling because Idia wasn't available. (He didn't want to leave his room -.-) Not a romantic date. Actually, he acts a little like your matchmaker with his older brother.

CHARACTERS: Idia Shroud & Ortho Shroud (Platonic)

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WARNING: None, I think. I think that in this one I don't give spoilers, so none I can remember.

WORD COUNT: An average of 650 words per character.

Heartslabyul / Savanaclaw / Octavinelle / Scarabia / Pomefiore / Ignihyde / Diasomnia

COMMENTS: The thing is I didn't wanted to just have Idia in here. And i remembered Ortho talking about wanting to go on an amusement park but Idia don't wanting to go and me thinking like "Awww, I would go with you, Ortho."

I hope you enjoy ;)

I hope you don't mind having a nerdy date in Ignihyde. Because a first date outside among the normies is out of the question! Οχι! (No in greek)

However, you will not spend time in his room. For too many reasons, but the main ones are: A) Idia knows spending your first date in the bedroom is the stupidest, most absurd, most insulting idea! I mean, you guys could have dates in his room if the relationship progressed, but for a first date? Absolutely NOT! And B) His room is a total mess. Fortunately: Him being the housewarden + The rest of Ignihyde students being also shut-ins = Him being able to find a good room where nobody bothers you two.

He found an empty room and used technology to decorate it. AKA: Do you remember that magical projector you use on the guest room? Basically the same cause he's a lazy boy. But at least the bean bags and the consoles were real.

He ordered food. Come on, he won't even try to cook, he knows how much he sucks at it. You like pizza right? He asks for your favourite. Ortho told him what it was. He registered all the information about your tastes, preferences, allergies, etc. He also bought your favourite drinks.

It is a really comfy room. The only lights were the RGB around the room. Blue and pink at the moment. And if you smirk at him, like a for a shut-in, you know how to set the mood look,his hair will turn the same colours of the room. But since he knows you have a crush on him too, he's in his confident mode. So he'll smile at you back. And that is going to make your heart skip a beat.

It's probably the chillest first date you could ever have. You two will sink into beanbags and play co-op games while snacking. You'll literally be his player 2. Great chances that you’ll make a mistake or having difficulty at some point in the game and he’ll mess with you and make fun of you. You will pick up one of the cushions around you and throw it at his face. “O-oi! Don't tell me you want to start a pillow fight just because I'm commenting on your lack of ski-” Another hit from you!

“Don't tell me that you're pillow fighting skills are that low you think you can't compete with me." You'd tell him and bring out his proud, competitive side. The flames in his hair get excited, like himself and he starts attacking you with his own pillow. However, he won't use his full strength. The last thing he wants is to hurt you.

But that doesn't stop him from winning the battle with his wits... and foul play. Tickle you! If you say it's foul play, he'll say you sneak attacked him first. He will only stop when you surrender, lying on your beanbag chair with him practically on top of you. When he realizes that, he'll blush, just like the ends of his hair. But since you don't show yourself uncomfortable in that situation, he wouldn't get up either.

“I can't believe you got me into a pillow fight.” He'll tell you, that deep voice of his. “How childish.” But you can see him smile a little. And you feel like teasing him a little more: “I wonder what else can I got you into.” You did it, his hair was all pink now, a bit like his face. But remember, since he knows you like him, he is much more confident. He smirks and bring his face so close to yours that your noses are practically touching. “You would like to know wouldn't you? Go on.” and he speaks in an even deeper voice “Try it.”

If you kiss him, you will feel him return passionately. And you'll feel the two of you sinking into the beanbag.

You ran into Ortho in the courtyard. When he sees you he closes his eyes in a smile, but you had seen his slightly sad expression moments before that. You ask what's going on, but he doesn't want to bother you with it. Then you insist a little more, saying that he can tell you, that he's not bothering you at all.

Then he tells you that a travelling amusement park is coming to Sage's Island and he really wants to go with his older brother, but Idia doesn’t want to leave his room. Instead, he suggested to code up a VR amusement park. But that would defeat the whole purpose! And he says he'd really like to go to that park, because he's never been to one.

“Aww... Would you like me to go with you?” you ask. He looks at you with sparkling big eyes “Really? You would come with me?” Knowing the students at that college, you wonder if he didn't know from the beginning that you would offer to go with him when he told you that story. But honestly, who cares? He is so cute!

You agreed to go pick him at Ignihyde, and then go to the amusement park. But when you arrive, he looks different. His new gear is similar to his Athletic Gear, since he have "normal" feet instead of his regular floating ones. Idia made that new gear, partly because his little brother asked him to go with feet like the other visitors, and because he wanted to make sure Ortho went with a body that could handle the rides.

“You should come with us Onii-san! Are you sure you really don't want to come?” Despite this last attempt, Idia will continue to say no and tell him to have fun with you. “Aww...” Ortho does that smirk with his eyes “Not even knowing that Prefect comes with us? I was pretty sure that would convince you.”

If you ask why he’s saying that, the ends of Idia's hair will start to turn pinker, he’ll say it's nothing, say one last time for you to have fun and hide in the room quickly. Oh well. Ortho is REALLY excited to go, so he practically pulls you along the way.

This boy is so happy to finally go to an amusement park, even though it's not with his brother. If you're not afraid to ride the rides, you're super cool. But if you are afraid of something he wants to ride, he will try to convince you to ride with him. He'll even tell you the low probabilities of you getting hurt. If you agree, he’ll be very grateful. If you're still scared, that's okay, he understands. Also, he is able to read your vital signs and he won't insist you do something you don't want to.

It feels so good to see him so happy. He will ask you if you had fun and that it's a shame Idia didn't go. “He's always so excited to be around you.” he lets it slip, “accidentally”. You ask him to explain it. “Well, I know he always looks scared and uncomfortable but you've seen him smiling, right? One day when he was talking to you, I checked his vitals. His heart beats faster, but not the same way it does when he's anxious, his body temperature rises, his blood pressure drops-” He stops for a moment, and looks at you with that smirk in his eyes “Similar to what's happening to you as I talk about him.”

Even if you don't blush much, he can still read your vitals. “You should take the first step.” He says to you. “Because we both know my brother doesn't have the courage for that. And I'm 97% sure you're not going to regret that. After all, your vitals are almost the same. And according to my research, that can only means one thing.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twst fluf #Twisted Wonderland Fluf #Idia Shroud #Idia Shroud x Reader #Idia x Reader #Ortho Shroud

[sturniololoco]

Can you PLEASEEEE write a fic about Nathan and hockey🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

Big Game Pt 1

SLS x Nathan Doe

warnings: Not yet hehehe

Nathan's POV

Today was the big hockey game of the season for Somerville High School. We had made it all the way to the State Finals.

Matt and Chris, my best friends and a part of the Sturniolo Quadruplets, were playing in the game as well. Nick was there for photography reasons, and their sister, SLS/N, was tagging along to cheer us on.

-

It was lunch time and the boys, SLS/N, and I were at our usual table in the back. We Chris and I were talking about the game while Nick and Matt were getting lunch in line. SLS/N was sitting quietly, writing in her notebook

She had her nose scrunched, biting her lip in concentration. Looking absolutely adorable while doing it. I couldn't help but look at her, getting distracted from Chris talking.

"Hey! Are you even listening?" He laughs snapping in my face.

I laugh, may face turning a little red. Lucky for me, Matt and Nick walk over. Matt gently ruffles her hair, as she looks up at him and smiles, showing her dimples. Adorable.

"So, you guys excided for your game?" I hear her ask.

I look up and she's looking at me. I quickly look down, stabbing at my lunch with my fork.

-

The bell rang for lunch, the triplets taking the left to get to PE, while SLS/N and I take a right so I can drop her off at her Spanish class, just like we do every day.

Just before I drop her off, I work up the courage to take my home jersey, the one that I won't use because we're playing away today and toss it at her.

"Wear it at the game. You need a little spirit." I say, giving her a smile while running my fingers through my hair.

She catches it and unfolds it, holding it up and reading Doe on the back. She looks up at me and smiles.

"You know I can wear matt's or Chris's, right?" She asks, but kept the jersey all the same, tucking it into her backpack.

"Yeah, but my last names way cooler than theirs." I say, giving her a wave and walking to my class.

I hear her giggle then walk into her class.

-

As soon as the bell rang, I rushed out of my calculus class, down the main stairs, and out the door to get to the student parking lot. We had an hour and a half long drive to get the the ice rink, so we needed to get going.

Matt, Chris, and I all chucked our hockey gear into the back along with our backpacks, shutting the car door. We then hopped in the car, only to notice that SLS/N was not in the car yet.

"Oh my god, i thought I told her to get out quick." Matt mumbled under his breath, eyeing the long line of cars, cramming together while trying to get out of the parking lot.

We only had to wait about five more minutes until I see SLS/N running towards the car. The hops in between Nick and I in the back, out of breath and her cheeks pink from running all the way here.

"Matt-I'm so-so sorry. Some idiot spilled paint all over me." She says in between breaths.

only then did I notice the blue paint, running all the way down her shirt. Her shirt was wet, like she tried to get some of it off with water, only to make it spread worse.

But I was shocked at what she did next.

"Chris, can i borrow your hoodie for the game?" She asked her older brother.

He nodded, taking off his black sweatshirt and handing it to her. Much to my surprise, she peeled of her wet shirt, leaving her in just a sports bra before throwing Chris's hoodie on.

I felt my cheeks turn red, noticing how close I was to her bare skin. She then dug around in her backpack, and pulled out my other jersey, and put that on over the black hoodie.

I smiled at myself, admiring how good she looks with my name on her back.

New series y'all!!! Part 2 tomorrow if ur interested, let me know in the comments!!!

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs

#nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #nathan doe x reader #nathan doe smut #nathan doe

[cybrsan]

congratulations!!

maybe a smut drabble with yunho of #106? best friends to lovers when reader’s ex cheats on them and reader was at the club a couple days later, looking for a rebound

yunho has been pining over reader and got jealous when he found out her intentions..

kind of angsty with possessive yunho!!

Thank you! Enjoy <3

Prompt:  106. "I'm going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name." Pairing: Best Friend!Yunho x F!Reader Genre: Angst, smut Word Count: 2k Tags/warnings: Alcohol use, friends to lovers, rebound sex, unresolved feelings

Requests are currently closed, but my masterlist can be found here.

You sit at the bar, ordering another shot. You've lost count of how many you have had at this point, not caring in the slightest. In fact, you hope you get drunk. You want the sweet, sweet bliss of oblivion that comes with being blacked out so that you can forget the pain that has been eating at you ever since you walked in on your ex-boyfriend cheating a few days ago. 

Your friends who have accompanied you have all wandered off at this point, enjoying their own activities. Everyone except Yunho, who has stuck to your side like glue the entire night.  You love being around him, and you appreciate the fact that he wants to take care of you, but having a guy who’s 6 feet tall hovering around you is really getting in the way of your main goal—finding a rebound. 

Downing your shot, you swivel in your stool and face him. "Yunho.”

“Yeah, what’s up? How are you feeling?” 

“Suffocated.” 

“What?” 

He looks a bit hurt, so you backtrack, not having intended to come off so harshly. “Yunho, I love you. I do. You are my best friend, and I love hanging out with you. But I really want to find a guy to hook up with, and having you around is preventing anyone from approaching me because they think you’re my boyfriend.” 

“Wait, that’s why we’re here?” he asks, eyes widening. “I thought you just wanted to clear your head.” 

“Yeah, by having someone fuck the thoughts right out of me.” 

Yunho just stares at you, not saying anything. His ears are slightly red, and you can only assume your vulgarity has left him feeling embarrassed. You’ve never talked about stuff like this with him before; obviously, the alcohol in your system has made you a bit too bold. Feeling awkward, you stand up to leave when he suddenly reaches out and grabs your wrist, pulling you back toward him. 

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go home with a random guy.” His words express his concern for you, but his eyes are laced with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

“Yunho, I’m a grown woman. I can make choices for myself.”

“I know that,” he says, grip tightening slightly. “But I don’t want you to go home with a random guy.” 

Your eyes widen. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating what you think he is. 

“Then who should I go home with?”

He doesn’t answer right away, teeth worrying his lower lip. He looks unsure of something, but his hesitance only lasts for a moment before he steels his gaze, looking at you with newfound confidence.

“Me.”

“You? Wait, Yunho, you mean—”

“Yeah. I’ll help you clear your head.”

Before you can argue, he’s throwing a wad of cash down onto the bartop and texting in your group chat, letting everyone know he’s taking you home. No one will think twice about it, knowing that he’s always the one who takes care of you after a wild night out. They wouldn’t ever think his words might have a different meaning.   

The car ride is quick, the air between you thick with anticipation. When you get to Yunho’s apartment, you aren’t sure what to expect. You think that maybe it will be something straight out of a movie—he’ll throw you up against a wall, confess his feelings for you, and take you right then and there. But that doesn’t happen.

It’s just like any other time you’ve been at his apartment, so much so that you almost think you imagined everything. He takes your jacket from you and hangs it up, then gets you a glass of water that you make quick work of, mouth dry from anxiety. He sits on one of the kitchen chairs, watching you as you stand there awkwardly, unsure of what’s to come next. 

“Why do you look so nervous?” he asks, tone light and teasing.

Hearing his voice relaxes you, helps you remember that this is Yunho you’re with—your Yunho—and you have nothing to worry about. 

“Why do you think?” 

He chuckles and beckons you forward, patting the seat next to him. You sit, and he pulls your chair closer to his, letting his hand rest on your thigh. His touch is featherlight, but it’s enough to make you jump. His thumb rubs soothingly against your skin and he lifts your chin with his opposite hand so that you’re forced to look him in the eyes. You hadn’t even realized you were avoiding his gaze until now. 

“Y/N… I need to know that you want this. That you won’t regret it.”

“So you were serious about what you said back there at the bar?” 

You shouldn’t be so shocked, but you can’t help it. People have always joked about the two of you having feelings for one another, and maybe there was something between you before you met your last boyfriend, but neither of you ever acted on anything. No drunken kisses, no hints dropped, no late-night confessions forgotten in the morning…

“Of course I was,” he says. “I want you. I have for a while now, even before everything with your ex.” 

“Yunho…” 

“I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, at least not right now. I don’t care if we only keep things physical, but I need you to genuinely want it.” 

You should think this through, consider all the possibilities. Do you have feelings for Yunho? What will this do to your relationship with him? But the answer comes to you so easily that you don’t have time to fight it. “I do. I want this.” 

Once he has your full consent, it’s as if a switch inside of him clicks. His eyes darken, and he grabs your hips, pulling you off of your chair and halfway onto his lap as he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. 

“Good,” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole’s name.”  

His words make your thighs clench instinctively, his boldness taking you off guard. He stands up, keeping you close, and walks you to his bedroom, tossing you unceremoniously onto the bed.  You can’t help but laugh at his eagerness, making him smile as he unbuttons his shirt. You ogle him, taking in his tan skin and toned stomach. His body is obviously that of a dancer’s, and you make a mental note to tell him that his hard work is paying off. 

“Like what you see?” he jokes, spinning for you as if showing himself off. 

“Yes, now get over here already.” 

Never one to deny you, he kneels on the bed and lowers himself on top of you. He returns his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily as his hands explore your body. He grabs the bottom of your shirt, fingers brushing over the skin of your stomach, and tugs it off of you. 

Having gone braless, your chest is immediately exposed to him, and he groans at the sight, eagerly taking all of you in. You thought you might feel shy under his gaze, but instead, he only makes you feel desired. He dips his head down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. You moan, arching your back as pleasure jolts through you. 

Once he’s satisfied, he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your pants. He looks up at you through his lashes, waiting. 

“Can I…?” he lets his words trail off. 

“Yes, Yunho, yes,” you beg, writhing underneath him, desperate for more of his touch. 

In the blink of an eye, he’s freeing you of your pants and your underwear along with them before eagerly shoving his face into your cunt. You can’t hold back your moans as his tongue moves against you expertly, as if he somehow knows exactly what to do to bring you to the edge. When he slides a finger into your entrance, prepping you for his cock, your thighs clench around his head. Unbothered, Yunho continues, teasing your clit with his tongue as he adds a second finger, scissoring them inside of you. You can feel your orgasm building with each passing second, and you tug at his hair, pulling him off of you. 

“Don’t wanna come like this,” you pant, chest heaving. “Want you inside me.” 

Yunho groans and pulls his fingers out of you. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

He hurriedly takes off his pants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of it; it’s long, longer than any you’ve had before, slender but curved in a way that has you desperate, clenching around nothing. He grabs a condom from his nightstand and slowly rolls it over himself, thrusting a few times into his hand. You’re pretty sure that you could come from that sight alone—maybe you can revisit that another time. 

“Come here,” you whine, grabbing for him. 

Never one to deny you, he kneels on the bad and lowers himself over you, kissing you as he aligns himself with your entrance. You tangle your hands in his hair and angle your hips to meet him, moaning as he pushes inside of you. He lets out a strangled noise, eyebrows pinching together. You can tell he’s struggling to control his pace as he lets you adjust to the size of him, but you don’t want him to be considerate. You need him, all of him, now. 

Hooking your legs around his waist, you pull him closer to you, spurring him on. He takes the hint and rocks into you fully, letting you feel every inch of him, before pulling out and slamming back into you. He sets a bruising pace, relentless as you write underneath him, barely able to think about anything other than him and how good he’s making you feel.   

He intertwines your fingers as he fucks into you, panting into your neck. “You’re mine,” he growls. “I’m not letting anyone else have you. Never again.” 

“Fuck, yes, I’m yours.”    

It only takes a few more thrusts and Yunho moaning your name for you to come undone, trembling underneath him. He follows shortly after, your walls clenching around him too much for him to take. You feel alarmingly empty when he pulls out of you to discard the condom in the trash, and the thought has you quickly getting up and disappearing into the bathroom. You pee and hop in the shower, needing time to sort out how you’re feeling.

You’ve never felt that way before, never said you belong to someone so easily. You’ve never missed someone the second they pulled away from you. It’s not hard for you to make sense of things—obviously, you return his feelings. But as to whether or not you’re ready for another relationship so soon after ending your last one, you’re not as sure.

You return to his bedroom wrapped only in a towel and grab one of his shirts, pulling it over your head. Yunho looks up at you from his phone and smiles, opening his arms in invitation. You go to him, letting him pull you close, and you can’t help but bury your face into his neck, breathing in the scent of him.

“Feeling okay?”

You may not be able to see him, but you can hear the worry in his tone.

“I feel great, Yu, I promise. That was amazing.” 

He kisses the top of your head. “Good, I’m glad. It was for me, too.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t press you for answers or ask you to tell him where you stand even though you know he was probably racked with anxiety the entire time you were in the bathroom. Instead, he shuts off the light and continues to hold you close as he shuts his eyes, content just from having you in his arms. As you fall asleep in his embrace, your last coherent thought is that you’re going to have a lot to figure out in the morning.

#jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #yunho smut #yunho angst #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez x reader #yunho imagines #jeong yunho imagines #ateez imagines #ateez fic #yunho drabbles #ateez drabbles #ateez requests #kpop smut #my fic #100 followers #michi.req #anon

[euphoricfilter]

Yandere/smut Tae or Yoongi PLS 🥲🥵😵‍💫

the red means i love you:

pairing: yandere! taehyung x yandere! f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || established relationship || non-idol au || yandere

summary: taehyung always knew how to cheer you up.

word count: 1.3k

tags/ warnings: murder and blood, consumption of said blood, very very morally wrong ending/brief descriptions of a dead body, smut in the forms of: public sex, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (this is fiction, don't be stupid), squirting, creampie, mild cum play

notes: drabble game is closed <3 i think i'm slowly figuring out how to write such short smut scenes... maybe, i had to cut some of the good bits out :')

☆ this is definitely one of the more morally grey drabbles (mostly the ending) i've done so far, so please check the tags before reading!!

drabble masterlist || my main masterlist

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Taehyung was beyond an ordinary being. Crafted by hands made of gold, wired by a brain as fucked up as his own. The same gentle fingers that had moulded your brain from the depths of hell, all the little things that make us the wrong kind of human, programmed into your entities. 

Maybe you’d been designed for Taehyung, understanding his kind of love just as he understands yours. Two shattered souls finding their broken half, because surely if the both of you were insane alone, together you’re nothing but normal.  

Every dip in Taehyung’s skin and impurity in his design is utterly perfect in your eyes. Truly a god among humans. A love so raw, you find yourself toeing the line of mania; small things throwing you to the edge. Heart shattered during the moments apart, or suffocating hate for every other human he interacts with.

Now, Taehyung was perfect. He could pull off any colour, face ethereal, proportions unmatched; but you’d always felt he’d looked best in red. 

White button-up tainted, stained with the blood of a woman whose name neither of you know; will never know. 

Your thighs clench as Taehyung wipes his bloodied hands over his slacks, smearing the red further up his wrists, trailing his honeyed skin like a snake. 

Really it was her own fault, sauntering up to your table like you weren’t sitting there; like Taehyung wasn’t clearly taken. As if the ring on his finger, and eyes that belonged to you weren’t enough of a clue that he wasn’t interested in her lame attempts at seduction. 

You hadn’t been happy, understandably so. Bitter, ugly jealousy consuming your mind. Petty in the way you’d turned your head when he’d tried to talk to you, or brushing him off as he’d tried to feed you your favourite dessert. Taehyung’s lucky he knows how to brighten your mood, never one to shy away from pulling you into an alleyway beside the bar, whore of a woman taking his invitation for a good time. A shame really, when only you and Tae seem to ever find unbridled excitement from what happens after that.

Ever the sadist, your panties had slicked up deliciously at her muffled screams. 

“You’re ever so pretty” you sigh, Taehyung’s fingers digging into your jaw, sticky blood smearing across your skin. 

“I was just about to say the same thing about you, my love” he hums, plush lips skimming over the shell of your ear. 

A moan catches in the back of your throat as a stray hand grabs onto the meat of your ass, your lover’s straining cock pressed up against your lower stomach. 

“Need you, Tae” you whimper, rubbing your cheek a little further into his palm. 

He groans as you cup his bulge, gravelly in a way that has another pitiful flush of slick spilling into your panties. 

Impatient, you tug haphazardly at his belt. 

“Let me take care of you” he murmurs, slipping his thumb into your mouth, metallic tang of blood coating your tongue. 

Your legs fall open a little wider as a curious hand wanders up your skirt, nails scratching over your lacy panties. He wastes no time, tugging the crotch to the side, lips quirking up as he runs a finger through your sodden folds. 

“So wet, my love. All for me?” 

You nod, hands wandering under his shirt, nails digging into whatever skin you can hold. Lines of raw red love sure to paint his skin, a reminder that he is only ever to be yours. Dull ache of your nails on his skin sending arousal straight to his cock.

Taehyung’s lips press against your jaw, breath tickling your bare skin as he runs his tongue over your neck, working his way down your chest; tugging your blouse down below the swell of your breasts, the prettiest little canvas. 

Purple flowers bloom from your skin, Taehyung’s favourite kind of art that he spends painting each morning, your skin is always that little bit tender from his lips. 

You’re pushed against the concrete wall, back arching as the cold sinks into your bones.

Slicked-up fingers brush over your clit causing your hips to buck. 

“Turn around for me, my love” Taehyung pats your ass, tongue wetting his bottom lip when you do as told, fingers grasping the hem of your skirt. You tug it up around your waist, arching your back enough for Taehyung to get a glimpse of your slick-stained panties and sodden folds. 

“Good girl” he croons, fingers digging into the flesh of your asscheeks. 

The corners of your lips tug up when the click of his belt echoes off the walls of the alleyway, your pussy clenching around nothing as you’re reminded of where you are; world passing by, barely concealed. 

You sigh when Taehyung pulls the crotch of your panties to the side over your ass, blunt cockhead running through your folds. Your knees buckle as the tip nudges your clit, electric pleasure thrumming down your body. 

“Inside, Tae” you rock backwards, slicking his cock up further before he’s grabbing it at the base, impatient as he sinks into you. 

You moan, arousal leaking out of your pussy, leaving the inside of your thighs shiny. 

“So deep” you sigh, hand reaching back to hold Taehyung’s waist, helping him sink further into you. 

Taehyung groans, hands falling to hold your waist as he pulls back, only briefly before he’s rocking back into you. 

You quiver, fingers digging into the wall, delicate skin flaring red as Taehyung starts to pick up the pace. Guttural groan rivalled by the lewd squelch of your cunt. 

“Harder” you whine, selfish in your own pleasure as you rub your clit, hurdling towards your orgasm. 

You hear a group of people laughing, footsteps pattering louder and louder, Taehyung unashamed as he grunts, hips smacking against your ass leaving it red; leaving his claim. 

“Fuck–” he cries, “Cum for me, come on” a hand slithers round the front of your body, deft fingers snaking under the band of your bra, delicious pleasure sending you over the edge as he tugs at one of your nipples. 

Your thighs shake as you continue to thrum over your clit, body bending just enough for Taehyung’s cock to hit a sweet spot; a rush of wetness splashing against the wall. Rather, you grind your clit onto the palm of your hand, pitiful dribble wetting your thighs further as your orgasm ebbs away. 

“Fucking hell” Taehyung groans, cock twitching. 

His hand travels down the front of your body, thumbing over your clit before he’s rubbing your own watery cum into the meat of your thighs. 

“Cum Tae” you whine weakly, bordering jittery overstimulation. 

He punches back into you one more time, holding you to his chest by the weak hold he has over your pubic bone. And then he cums; thick ropes of seed soothing your insides as he gently rocks back into you. 

“So good” his head falls onto your shoulder, half-limp cock slipping out of you as he staggers back slightly. 

Your mouth falls open at the dribble of thick cum that trickles down your thighs, a breathy whimper falling off your tongue when Taehyung scoops it up, fingering it back into your pussy. 

He pulls your panties back over your hole, arm slipping around your waist to hold you up as he tugs your skirt back into place. 

“No~” you whine, “You got blood on my favourite blouse” you gape at the handprints that have seeped into the material. 

“I’ll buy you a new one, baby” he frowns, kissing your cheek, then your lips, “but first, we need to finish a little job” 

Your gaze flicks to the corpse, the poor woman is probably cold by now; the night was bitter after all.

Her blood had seeped into the crevices of the pavement, horror on her face artistic, haunting even, in the dull streetlights. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you in red?” you turn to Taehyung, tongue wetting your bottom lip. 

“All the time, my love. You look just as enthralling” he smudges the blood on your cheek, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your lips; smudged red. Maybe with blood, maybe with lipstick. He isn’t sure, though he thinks it suits you.

#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts #bts fluff #bts taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts x female reader #bts non idol au #bts yandere

[fanfiction-blep]

Hi! Any chance you’d do a Navi miles x reader where they’re both crushing on each other so the rest of the recoms come up with a plan to make him jealous so he’ll make the first move? Maybe like Lyle full on hitting on her or something? Thank you 😊

This is so cute and wholesome. And the first thing that popped into my head was this scene from new girl...

Fuck It~

Warnings: Implied smut, Pining, alcohol, party, plotting. light makeout session.

I was leaning against the far wall of the room. Watching the party ensure from a distance. Recoms and humans alike, mingling, swaying to the music vibrating off the walls. I lifted the red cup to my lips taking a generous swig smirking at Z-dog arm wrestling with Lyle. The booming chorus of jeers and yells almost overwhelming.

"how you doing?" the voice of my colleague taking me by surprise. I looked over to her, shaking my head.

"We're not talking about it"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to talk about my feelings for him" Almost on cue, Miles laughed, his head thrown back as he finally let loose for once. I was glad he needed to let loose once in a while, I don't think I'd seen him relax like this, ever. It just confirmed what I feared most. He hated me.

I've known it for some time not this is why I keep my distance, he was cold around me. Distant, he wouldn't look me in the eyes. He would flinch at my touch and excuse himself at any given opportunity. It hurt, each and every time. Every side eye, every snort at my views or input. It made me smile, just an inch. Before his eyes fell on me, and the smile dropped. And his laugh faded. I instinctively walked away, heading to the kitchen adjacent to the common area where this 'party' was being held. I needed a drink. I poured twice as much alcohol into my cup, I was done. I had to get over this crush. These feelings the longing to have him hold me, to feel him. I had to push through it, because clearly he felt nothing other than disgust for me. Angela joined me in the kitchen, her eyes softening at my irritated state.

"You don't know how he feels" She whispered placing a hand on my shoulder. I snorted at her statement beginning to feel stupid for even having feelings.

"You do?" She smirked at me turning away walking back into the main room only looking at me again to throw a wink over her shoulder.

"Lets play a game" She called, half the room stopping in their tracks to stare at her.

"Oh what are we? teenagers?" Miles shook his head, I couldn't take this any more. I stepped next to Angela and forced a smile.

"I'm in" Miles' head snapped in my direction, I couldn't see his face but Lyle who was in my direct line of sight was smirking making eye contact with Angela. And in that moment I knew I fucked up, this fucker knew and Angela had something to do with it. I kept my cool and tried to play along, I was sure of one thing. No matter what Miles wouldn't be participating. "What we playing"

"Lets mix things up a little, each put a personal item in a bowl whoever's stuff you pick" He paused for dramatic effect "You have to spent some alone time together, whoever's item was picked has to dish out of the bowl next" He leaned behind him pouring a bowl of crisps on the floor and thrusted the bowl in Angela and I's direction. I slipped off my necklace, a delicate gold chain with my initial hanging from the metal. I dropped it in the bowl, Angela dropped a ring. Lyle his dog tag. Another human scientist placed his phone throwing a wink my way, I lowered my gaze and angry blush dusting my cheeks. I saw Miles stand up from the corner of my eye he slipped his own dog tag in the bowl. A few others added their items but I was frozen. A few rounds went by the bowl getting passed around Angela got her turn, Z-dog leading her into the room. I was forced out of my own mind when Lyle called my name. I looked up to see him dangling my necklace between his fingers, he nodded in the direction of the kitchen. Making a quick glance over at Miles before walking over to me draping an arm over my shoulder.

"play along" He whispered low, like he would afraid someone would hear. He ushered me into the room quickly locking the door behind us.

"Lyle, I'm not interested I am so sorry if you have gotten to wrong impression." He let out a low chuckle at my words.

"I ain't tryna put the moves on you. Don't worry, its all a show" He leaned against the counter next to the sink.

"For who?"

"Oh you know" And based on how all this has gone down, I defiantly did.

"He hates me, I don't know why you are trying to torture him."

"Oh this is torturing him alright." I didn't get the opportunity to question him further before loud banging sounded on the door.

"Common you guys"

"It's only been five second, it was just getting good." He said the last five words quieter however who ever was on the other side heard and laughed. Nothing was making sense and I irritated and bored now.

"Let's get my turn over with." I snapped at him, pushing past him and barging out of the room. Everyone's eyes were instantly on me, I felt like a deer in headlights. Miles had his back turned his shoulders tense, Angela look apprehensive she was trying to talk to me with her eyes but the elephant in the room was obvious. Miles didn't want him around me or his friends. His flattened ears and his thrashing tail told me more than I needed to know. I stormed over to the bowl pulling out the first thing that grazed my fingers. I pulled out a dog tag. My heart fell, my throat got tight. I pulled the metal into my palm and read the name. Miles Quaritch. "Shit" I breathed looking and seeing Miles staring at me, his eyes wide. "Lets get this over with" He stands up hands running over his face. I was beyond annoyed at this point. I had never been anything other than nice to this man I had been polite and kind and he treated me like I was a piece of gum on his shoe. So when he leaned against the counter facing the wall opposite him. Not saying a word not a single word.

"Have fun in there love birds."

"Shut it Lyle"

"Idiot" I huffed, Miles huffed and shook his head. "I get that you hate me but you don't have to act like being in here with me is some kind of punishment."

"Punishment? you think this is the punishment?" He turned to me eyes narrow and angry i backed away instinctively, he slowly inched closer to me with every word. "No the punishment was being sat out there knowing Lyle had his hands all over ya" He sneered eventually backing me against the far surface the corners biting into my mid back. They were higher to accommodate the recoms.

"He didn't do anything to me, I told him I wasn't interested in him" Miles was shocked by my words so much so he backed away from me.

"But he said-"

"I don't care what he said" I snapped anger rising in my stomach I had had enough of this man. "You know what?"

"What?" He sighed not looking at me anymore.

"I like you" His eyes met mine widening. "But you hate me, this is the first time you've looked me in the eyes in months, you clearly find me repulsive cus you wont let me touch you and god forbid i talk about you. You run out the room faster than a cat on fire."

"I won't look you in the eyes because seeing them look up at me? reminds me how beautiful you are every time. I won't let you touch me because all it does is make me want to hold you, have your bare skin against mine. I leave when I hear your voice I wanna hear ya scream my name" He had started leaning down his face inching closer and closer to my own. "I wanna hear all the noises that I can get ya to make"

"Miles" I breathed heavily I heard him mutter a low 'Fuck it' before he dove in. His lips capturing my own in a passionate grip. His fingers pushed their way into my hair. His tongue pushing past my lips as he worked against them. He was really good at this, I felt like I couldn't breath His other brushing against my thigh.

"Jump" He mumbled into my lips, I did as I was told. Gasping as he placed me on the counter behind us and standing between my legs his crotch grinding against my own.

"Miles" I whined pushing my hips forward.

"Not here, not like this." He gasped pulling away from me cupping my face in his hands and resting his forehead against my own. "Imma take ya out, then Imma bring you back to my bed. Sound good sweetheart?" I nodded biting my lip. He groaned at the sight and pressed a kiss to my nose. "Good girl"

#na'vi miles quaritch series #miles quaritch fluff #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch #smut fic

[munstysmind]

BIRTHDAY CAKE - CHRIS EVANS

WARNING/S: Implied smut, Chris being adorable… that needs a warning, right??

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

MAIN MASTERLIST

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A loud crash comes from the kitchen, ripping you from your sleep. As soon as your brain registers its sudden return to consciousness, you groan loudly in protest and rub your eyes before reaching over to get phone from the bedside table and check the time.

It's just after ten.

You let out another groan as you stretch your entire body out before relaxing back into your boyfriend's king-sized bed.

You came back to Boston with him at the start of quarantine. Both of you were out of work with the film, and basically every other nonessential, industry being shut down so there was no real reason you had to stay in LA.

That was three months ago now and honestly, you both love living together. So much so that last week he asked you if you wanted to make it permanent. Of course, you'd said yes. The two of you had just slotted into each other's routines and quirks so seamlessly it was like you'd been living together for years. Your two-year relationship has never been stronger.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by another loud crash.

"Damn it" you hear him say, sounding extremely frustrated.

"What the hell is he doing?" you say to yourself as you get up and throw on his shirt from yesterday before heading out to see what all the commotion was about.

Pressing your lips together, you hold back a laugh as you lean against the door frame and take in the sight in front of you.

The kitchen is a complete disaster. Flour is everywhere. The floor, the counter... Chris.

Lord knows what he's trying to do.

"What happened in here?" you ask, causing him to jump and quickly try to hide what he's doing behind his back.

"I thought you were asleep" he says, brushing away the flour from the front of his shirt.

"I was"

"Fuck... I woke you up, didn't I?"

"Yeah"

"I'm sorry"

"It's OK. What are you doing?"

"Nothing"

"Then why are you trying to hide baking supplies behind you?"

"Well... it's your birthday"

"Go on"

"I'm trying to bake you a birthday cake"

"Chris...

"I don't remember it being this hard when I helped Ma as a kid"

"That's because Mama Evans is an amazing baker and did all the work while simultaneously making you think you were helping"

You make your way over to him and brush the flour he's somehow managed to get in his hair before sitting on the bench opposite him.

"You, my love, are a man of many talents but cooking and baking isn't really one of them" you tell him as you rest your arms on his shoulders and play with the hair at the back of his neck.

"I make a mean pesto egg, everyone loves them" he says, wearing the cute pout you love.

"They are an exception"

"I should have just got a box mix, I know I can't fuck that up"

"You went to all this effort just for me, you have no idea how much that means"

"We're stuck in lockdown and your family's on the other side of the country. I just... I wanted to make your day special"

"You make all my days special" you tell him quietly as a smile spreads across your face. You've never met anyone as loving as him. You don't know what you did to deserve him in your life, but you thank whatever greater power is responsible every single day that he is.

"I wanted today to be extra special. It's not every day that you turn thirty" he says with a shit eating grin that makes you roll your eyes.

"Urghhh, don't remind me"

"Hey, how to you think I feel, I'm the big four zero next year"

"I thought we were talking about me"

"We are, I was just saying"

"I can help, with the cake"

"Nope, it's your day".

"Is that so?"

"Yes"

"So does that mean I get to do whatever I want?"

"Yep"

"Then, I'm going to remove my boyfriend's shirt in the middle of the kitchen so he doesn't make a mess on the way to the bedroom".

"And why am I going to the bedroom exactly?"

"Because it's my birthday and I want my man to eat me out then rail me into the bed until I can't remember my own name"

"Well, in that case" he says with a smirk as he lifts his arms up like a child, making you laugh before grabbing the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head.

You lean forward and kiss his chest as he takes his shirt from you and blindly throws it over his shoulder into the pile of flour on the counter.

He takes your face and kisses you, hard, before sliding his hands down your back to your hips and pulling you close, your chests flush with each other.

You let out a quiet moan as he starts pressing open mouthed kisses up your neck, wrapping your legs around his waist when he sinks his teeth into your skin before tracing it with his tongue to soothe the sting.

He knows exactly what to do to make you come undone in 0.5 seconds.

"Fuck, Chris" you gasp, threading you fingers into his hair as he sucks a bruise onto your flesh. You pull his hair, bringing his face back to yours and kissing him.

He pulls away with a grin, making you whimper and follow him, trying to lock lips again.

With a chuckle he puts his hands under your thighs and lifts you off the bench, throwing yo over his shoulder.

"Chris!" you squeal as he starts heading towards the bedroom, Dodger following right behind him.

"No Bub. Trust me, you don't want to see what I'm about to do" he tells your fur baby, slapping you ass as if to prove a point, making you squeal again.

It's about to be the best birthday ever...

GENERAL TAGLIST: @aussieez @rookiemartin @babeyyemor @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @chickensarentcheap @dhoruwolfie @themaradwrites @cali-nyc5 @darsynia @diamondoftheball @wewannasaygoodnight @sweetbunnyliddle @kingliam2019 @angelcavill66 @mis-lil-red @rcarbo1 @secretdream2 @identity2212 @fanfics-r-us-official @km-ffluv @dream-beyond-the-fantasy @ktficworld @juliaorplI78 @henry-cavs-tudor @red-write-hand @queenzee27 @kandis-mom

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

[fuzziemutt]

On Miguel and Motivations Behind his Behaviors Towards Miles

An analysis point I haven't seen much around (<- says the man who never looks in the tag) is the idea that Miguel was trying to be the very thing Miles could blame when (in Mig's eyes) he's unable to save his father.

Miguel's main motivation for his actions across the board are in his most iconic line:

"I don’t always like what I have to do, but I know I'm going to have to be the one to do it."

This line is very defining for him because it's reflected on how Miguel shoulders the responsibilities of the Spiderverse and any unsavory actions it might have to take for whatever reason. He alone makes the decision, the action so "no one else will have to" feel that guilt*.

*which I should note. Comic book Miguel is very much noted to have severe guilt with being S-man ("No, with great responsibility, comes great guilt!") but constantly states "he has to do it because who will?". Being S-man isn't a freeing thing for him... It's an obligation, a way for him to "atone for his sins" (from the man with severe Catholic trauma).

However, his need to be the one to "make the hardline decisions" out of guilt isn't the only influencer in his actions towards Miles.

Because another important note about comic Miguel is his biggest trait in all his relationships: he is the scapegoat.

From his mother, to his father(s), to his ex-girlfriend, ex-fiance, and even his brother himself. Miguel is always a means for people to escape blame. He is always a means to place responsibility to "fix it" because only /Miguel/ can fix it* for them (wow his oldest sibling disorder is showing).

*Gabriel, his brother, is seen multiple times demanding Miguel to "fix" the situations he finds himself in such as getting his girlfriend out of jail as Miguel "owes it to him" for working with Alchemax.

--

Furthermore, Miguel is seen having /quiet/ anger responses towards how others treat him; i.e. when Dana, his then-fiance, comes to him after talking to Tyler Stone, (later known: his bio father) who is untrustworthy and whom also Dana is cheating on Mig with (this fact is unknown to Mig at the time too), Mig is notably upset yet never raises his voice, he keeps his anger to himself and quiet.

This allows others to easily project onto him- Dana then projects her own view of what Miguel must be feeling in the next panel (which- she is often severely incorrect in her assessments as stated by Miguel himself in several instances of self-reflection)

And thus, Miguel has every intention to allow himself to be the scapegoat for others as long as he lives. Especially one Miles Morales.

Because Miguel is not happy preventing Miles from saving his father, he almost cries about it, he /wants/ to comfort Miles the whole time. He doesn't like what he has to do.

But Miguel has come this far (ensuring everyone's safety) and he can't let Miles make the same mistakes he made. Because to Miguel, he tried to alter his story and tried to fight what he didn't even know what would become the canon theory.

Yes, there are circumstances, there could be exceptions*, there's a possibility everything will be alright but Miguel /does not/ know this. He didn't know about canon theory or what would happen to Gabby then. All he knows now is that he flew too close to the sun and killed billions of people, and now, he doesn't want to allow Miles to "play god" and find himself with no home. It's "better" to be safe than sorry as he'd say <- through gritted teeth and tears.

*Whether the canon theory is true or not is not really important in this reading. The theory is just meant as a metaphor for whole vs one, risk vs caution, and the suffocation of fear-

-

So Miguel does what he doesn't want the others to do. He plays the scapegoat, the guy you can put all your anger towards, the thing you can blame when it just doesn't work how you want it to, and focus all your hatred on instead of yourself.

He doesn't order any of the others to throw the containment field at Miles (they didn't even know he was going to), he doesn't order the others to talk about the canon theory (also because he's reminding himself about why he's asking a kid to let his father die and to remind everyone of Mig's own faults- takes the blame as the sole destroyer of worlds despite us knowing Gabby's dimension isn't the only one that's collapsed thus far and strictly by Miguel's hands), he even leads majority of the apprehension of Miles himself.

Hell, he even lets himself be the scapegoat for why Gwen and Peter B don't visit Miles. We don't know enough about that conversation to say how much Miguel said "no, don't see him" but he sure isn't trying to fight* any possible allegations of how that conversation went either via clarifying /what/ it was he said.

Lastly, Miguel's control issues really appear in these interactions even, in this choice. Because, Miguel is taking on the choice for others because he thinks he can control others' grief if he just "does it 'right' for them", and that's just not /possible/.

You can't choose the how and when for others, you can't "fix this" for them, you can't make sure no one ever gets hurt because you'd rather someone scream at you for stopping them or taking the choice from them, than for them to experience something that's an inherent part of life and mature and grow from it.

To receive that "just punishment" that you're always seemingly striving for because you care so deeply about everyone and everything yet can't comprehend that others might care for you as well.

You can't keep suffocating others in your own fear, Miguel.

"And all this time, /I've/ been the only one holding it all together."

Yeah, Miguel has severe issues, he's projecting onto this kid, he majorly fucked up this interaction, but I feel Miguel's insistence on placing any and /all/ blame onto himself is a very vital piece of his character that we shouldn't ignore especially in analysis.

+ Another note of Comic Miguel's character: Miguel is very prone to allowing anyone to say literally anything to him. He's called horrendous things and he /never/ denies these things. He never tries to make anyone believe otherwise because Miguel agrees with them-

-Yes, he's Gabriel's slimeball brother who's arrogant and egotistical and a jackass and impossible to work with and a terrible, no-good son. Because no one has ever said one nice thing to Miguel O'Hara. They've only praised Spider-man.

#i speak #spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman: across the spiderverse #Miguel O'Hara analysis

[ejlovespie]

Uncomplicated

Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x fem!vampire!reader

Summary: Things get a little heated when you offer Stefan to drink from you… 

Words: 1.1K (This went a tad long for a drabble...whoops!)

Warnings / Tags: 18+ vampire biting & blood sharing / mild smut / touching / implied sex 

A/N: @akshi8278 Thank you for participating in this game of mine and thank you for following my blog and reading/sharing my work. You were one of my first followers when I started posting a few years ago and every time I see your handle come up, it makes me smile. <3 You have made a big impression on me and have pushed me to keep writing. I appreciate you so much and hope you like this little fic. :) xoxo -EJ 

P.S. This is my first Stefan fic *squeal!* I loved writing him! 

“I’m sorry, Y/N but no. Absolutely not.” Stefan is shaking his head at you, jaw tight and lips set in a firm, unhappy line.

You whine and put on the best, biggest, puppy-dog-eyed performance you have ever given and it's Oscar worthy because you’re desperate to get Stefan to agree. When he finally looks at you, his hazel eyes go dark as he shakes his head at you. Mentally digging in your heels, you hit him with the main point of your argument again. 

“Stef, please. It’s perfectly safe and you’ll get more drinking from me than you will with any innocent woodland creature. Plus, I’ve heard all the talk. A lot of vampires do this all the time and I really think this is your best option here. I'm just asking you to try it. Please?”  

Wearing dark jeans, boots, and a tan long-sleeved henley, your best friend is standing stiffer than his ‘hero hair.’ With the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, you try not to stare at his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest. Stubborn, you mimic his stance and stick out your bottom lip in a playful pout until he rolls his pretty eyes at you and drops his arms. You’re currently squaring off in the sitting room of the Salvatore house. If you could feel any fluctuation in temperature, you might shiver at the slight breeze coming in through the open window or warm from the heat coming off the fire in the harth. Stefan finally sits, his daylight ring glinting from the light of the fireplace as he pours both of you another drink. Accepting the offered glass, you study the bourbon decanter on the coffee table and take a sip. You both sit in tense silence for a long moment before you break it.

Your voice comes out softer than you mean it to when you ask, “Just tell me why. Why are you so dead-set against this? Why won’t you even try? Is it me? I know it’s kind of an..intimate thing but..would it really be that bad?” 

Stefan sighs. It’s prolonged and heavy with exasperation. Closing his eyes, he throws back the rest of his drink like it’s an Olympic sport before setting the glass down on the table in front of him.

Turning his body to face you, he says, “Y/N..you don’t know what you’re asking..what you’re offering. I know you’re trying to help but this could complicate our relationship. Blood sharing is..uh..personal and the others that do this all the time are couples.”

Heat creeps up your neck and cheeks from his low words and direct stare. You understood the implication of what he was saying but you didn’t care. Stefan’s health and wellbeing was more important to you than an awkward moment in your long-standing friendship. Making the decision to put him first, whether he saw it that way or not, you set your glass down before bringing your wrist to your mouth. Stefan begins to argue again but you ignore his protests as your fangs elongate and you bite into the vein inside your wrist. Looking at Stefan, you hold it out to him and wait. Your chest tightens at the sallowness in his skin and the sunken, purple bruises under his eyes. Guilt sours your stomach. You waited too long, let him starve himself too much before finally gaining enough courage to offer this to him.

With parted lips, Stefan stares at the small trail of bright red blood dripping from the wound on your wrist down your extended arm. After a moment, a soft sound escapes his throat and his eyes begin to shift from human to predator.

Scooting closer to him on the couch, you bring your bleeding wrist a little closer to his face and murmur, “Stop fighting me. Please, just take it. I’m a vampire, not a human. You’ll be able to stop.” 

Unable to hold back from the temptation any longer, Stefan grabs you, gentler than you thought possible with how starved he was, and brings your open wound to his lips. He hovers there for a second and locks eyes with you before finally biting into your torn flesh. You both groan quietly as the first drops of your blood fall onto his tongue. It doesn’t take long for the blood flow to increase and you moan softly as Stefan begins to drink feely from you. Heat pools in your belly and time slows to a crawl as your best friend's strong arms pull you, soft and pliant, into his lap. 

The room is filled with the soft sound of the crackling fire and the low, needy sounds coming from both of you. You melt into each other and it doesn’t bother you that you’re closer to Stefan than you’ve ever been before. It doesn’t bother you to have his hands rubbing along your arms, waist, neck, and collarbones. The feel of his touch is divine on your skin, setting your body ablaze. The smell of Stefan’s spicy cologne, aged bourbon, burning pine, and your blood mix until you feel dizzy and intoxicated. You want more. 

Eyes heavy, your free hand moves up to touch and explore Stefan’s body as he feeds from you. More heat pools low in your belly and suddenly you desperately want to be on the receiving end of this exchange. Blood may be blood but each person smells and tastes slightly different and dark, needy desire has you thinking dirty thoughts about your best friend. Adjusting on Stefan’s lap, you press your center into his growing erection. The movement is equivalent to dumping ice water on him as he is catapulted back to reality. 

He pulls your wrist from his bloody lips and looks at you with wide, shocked eyes. Speechless, you both stare at each other for a long moment. The air is thick with tension and your body still sings with curiosity and lust but you smile softly up at Stefan. He looks so much better, his color is slowly returning to normal and the bruises under his eyes are much less prominent than they were a few minutes ago. Reaching up, you touch his cheek gently as the wound on your wrist heals itself and closes.

In a breathy, slightly shaky voice you say, “Better, much better.”

Stefan stares down at you cradled in his lap, his now steely erection still pressed to your core. With eyes full of emotion, and a voice full of gravel, he states, “I’ve dreamed of you in my arms like this for so long..Are we complicated now?”

Smiling brightly, you bite your bottom lip gently and move your hips to create more friction against Stefan’s lap. He sucks in a sharp breath and you reply, “No, never.. but I hope you take me upstairs to bed an–” 

With inhuman speed and strength, you’re picked up, carried, and tossed into Stefan’s silken bedsheets faster than you could finish what you were about to say. 

#stefan salvatore #stefan salvatore x reader #stefan salvatore smut #the vampire diaries #tvd fanfiction

[frecklystars]

im gonna start making doodles trying to reclaim my TF F/Os that i've lost, maybe once a week or once every two weeks... or once a month?? i dont know, i will try to keep some consistency but i really need to start slow on this. here's to hoping that drawing them every once in a while will make even just the smallest difference.

im so sick of associating these characters with my abuser and i'm so sick of the immediate fight or flight response that i get when just looking at pictures of TF characters or even the voice actors. i have tried just about everything... therapy, medication, exercise, watching a few clips from the shows, buying cameos, commissioning art/fics, talking to voice actors in person at conventions... nothing has helped me get better at all. i tried giving up on TF entirely, throwing out/giving away all of my TF merch, refusing to touch the franchise, but that has only made me more and more miserable as time has passed. it has been over a year since [insert the most horrific experiences ever here] happened to me and since i associated that with a long list of things, TF included. and im! sick! of feeling bad! so! if im gonna be miserable no matter what, then i might as well try to get better, right?? drawing my F/Os loving me has never failed me before, so here's to hoping it isn't gonna fail me now. i am quite the stubborn bitch and i refuse to allow my main coping mechanism i've used for 2 decades to remain tainted forever and ever 😤😤

these will be the shakiest, shittiest doodles imaginable, but i think drawing the robots i miss so much at least once a month can help me rewire my brain into believing they're safe again and they love me and i'm not in danger. i think the best thing that will help me is drawing my Ryan F/Os interacting with them as "proof" that they're safe to be around, that they've "approved of" them, will help me slowly reclaim them. fake it til you make it as they say. let's try this for maybe just a couple of months as a slow start and see how it goes :/

any TF doodles will be tagged as "reclaiming robots tag" and nothing else - free to blacklist it if you dont wanna see. i'll most likely be rarely posting these but jic //shrug

anyway. yay. attempts number one and two. i like to think barbie and ken stop by the starflower meadow every now and then because stsc summons them across the multiverse, asking them how i'm doing, if i'm safe, if i miss him at all. wow i am shaking so bad. ha ha haaa. these took about ten?? minutes?? so woohoo to ten minutes of drawing TF. im proud of myself for trying. even if i dont go through with this and end up not being able to draw TF ever again, at least i managed this one single post. if i keep this up, maybe a year from now, or two years or five years or whatever, i'll be able to handle it. i don't even expect to hyperfixate on TF ever again because my self shipping will never ever be the same w/ them -- i'll never interact with the fandom again, i'll never reblog fanart or gifsets or anything like that ever again, if i even somehow managed to feel good enough to actually throw myself back into the shows -- but i want to think i'll feel indifferent to it one day. to not have that fight or flight response. that is my goal. literally the bare fucking minimum <3

anyway. i'm super nauseous. this is so incredibly hard! holy shit!!! but that's why i have to do this. to quote pedro pascal, i am going to have a panic attack and i am going to leave 👍✨

(BTW I am still gonna stay offline for a few more days. I am back from vacation but I am SO burnt out I don't want to interact with dms/my inbox yet. I just wanted to post this just to get it out of my system and let it disappear into the void. But I will be back later this week bc I still have some commissions to finish and I wanna gush about my very exciting time meeting steve/tom/the brba cast. anyway... goodnight. i love you. smooch)

#reclaiming robots tag

[ikamigami]

Okay, this stupid fandom needs to hear something!

Why are you surprised or/and mad that people are talking about Sun when he's one of the main characters?

It happens in every fandom all the time that most people talk about main characters and they are concerned mostly about main characters.

What's wrong with you? I'm seriously asking.

What stops you from making your posts with theories and analysises of other characters? Nothing.

But go ahead and complain about others liking one of main characters.

I legit saw someone on Discord complaining that no one is talking about Moon's mental health. Go ahead and start doing it yourself! No one is stoping you! But no. You feel the need to throw a tantrum that people are talking way too much about Sun. Boo hoo!

When I started talking about Sun here on Tumblr there were no posts about him.

Most people were focusing mainly on Moon and Eclipse and later on Lunar.

I wanted to complain at first but I decided that it would be better if I just write posts about Sun myself.

If no one will give analysises on him, I'll do it myself. That's what I thought to myself and I did exactly that.

So why can't you do that yourself with your favourite character?

I know that I'm complaining a lot about Discord sams server. But people there are annoying.

People on Discord are mostly okay when you talk about any other character beside Sun. And better beware if you think that something is wrong with Sun because they'll start attacking you. That's what happened to me.

You have to always agree with big names on Discord because if not then you're immediately treated like the odd one. I'm not talking about VAs because they never said anything and I think that if something bothered them they as adults would tell me to my face that I'm bothering them. I think that there's no need to speak for VAs because they're adults for goodness sake!

Also I saw there was one person that tried to tell me that I shouldn't talk about certain things with main tags of the show and that I dragged anyone into something.

That's complete bs because I didn't drag anyone. Did I named anyone in any of my posts? I don't remember doing anything like that.

If you come to my posts and start arguing with me then that's on you. I made such mistake myself. I apologized. And I won't do that again.

Also people are concerned about other characters beside Sun as well. People are talking about other characters beside Sun as well. People are theorizing about other characters beside Sun as well. Just search those tags. Or create something on your own. And stop complaining about Sun's fans talking about Sun. Because I mostly see this type of complaining being directed at Sun's fans.

#sun and moon show #sams #sams fandom

[wind-becomes-lightning]

Bye to Wind and Lightning

TLDR: I AM WHINY AND IM GOING TO MOVE BLOGS TO A SMALLER ONE WHERE NOBODY KNOWS ME. EITHER @kikuneesama FOR GENERAL STUFF OR @konohamaru-sensei FOR ANIME STUFF.

Did you know that in 2020 when the pandemic held us all in a chokehold I decided to reread One Piece and Bleach, but consciously decided not to touch Naruto, as if I knew that I'd be sucked in real bad if I read it again? I was right. In 2021, I randomly thought "No, I will read it now" and then I did and boom I talked about nothing else for that summer and to channel my thoughts I made this blog right here separate from my main and not as a sideblog. I wanted to start completely over at a different place.

I had a terrible summer in 2021, constant mental breakdown. I don't want to bore you with the details because you don't care, but just being back doing the stuff I loved when I was 16 was such a blessing. I was truly happy in the first months here, especially with the discord servers and the oc talk and the friends I made. My boyfriend commented on it all the time, that I looked so very happy. And I was! But these things never stay.

The problem with me is, I want community, I want to talk headcanons and to bitch about characters I don't like and promote ships I love and cry and laugh and hug all of you for liking the same things as me and at the same time I'm terrified of rejection, of people hating me, of people spreading lies behind my back. I guess school does traumatise you in some way.

I can't survive in a cutthroat fandom like this one, I take things too personally too quickly. I don't understand that if you, a normal person with your own wishes, likes a thing I don't like or dislike a thing I like it doesn't mean you automatically hate me. You are just a different person and that is ok! It's not you. It's me. NO I'm not just saying that. It really is me.

Did you know that when I started out here I didn't tag my stuff? Especially not my OC stuff (and I still rarely tag it). The fear that someone might find it, hate on it, send me hate, make fun of it etc, sits so deep that I rather have my work not be seen at all. Yet, I need the attention to keep going because without the reblogs and likes and asks I feel like an utter failure.

My boyfriend says I am not good with the public eye on me and he is probably right. I envy those of you who can stand their ground and be self confident in their arguments. I envy those who don't care what others say, who can block and move on, who don't get a knot in their stomach when someone they had nice interactions with unfollows. I shouldn't care, but I do.

On my first tumblr blog I never looked at my followers, I never got asks either or was deep in fandom or anything, but I reblogged my stuff and posted my thoughts and was feeling good. I love tumblr, its the best social media out there for a reason. Yet, with this one, I got so self conscious about my followers, about what I can and can't say. If my presence would offend or not etc etc.

I was kinda looking forward to 1000 Followers because it is an insane number, but now at 997 I'm throwing in the towel. Isn't that like giving up before the finish line? Maybe, but I'm so tired and I want to be unknown again. I want to be nobody again. I want the naruto fandom to move on and forget I was ever here.

So I'm leaving! Sorry, I guess! At least for a good while. I might be back to finish the requests still pending on this account and then disappear again, but I don't know if I'll ever permanently come back. If you by any chance really, really really care about my presence, you can find me under @kikuneesama as a general spam blog with all sorts of things and under @konohamaru-sensei for anime-only stuff. This is also where my Naruto posting will be moving.

If you are a moot I will follow you from Kikuneesama again.

Thanks, I guess, for over two years of hanging out. I'm sorry I am such a lame loser.

One thing is for sure: Though I am moving to a blog named after Konohamaru, Kakashi will always be my love.

tschüss und auf wiedersehen, ~Nisi

PS: I'll q this a couple of times so I'm sorry if you have to see it a few times in the next few days. I swear I'll be gone after that.

#nisi rambles