#took me like 4 different tries to get that shoulder pad

[nibeul]

helm's deep

[id in alt]

#god I made his design so complicated for no reason #took me like 4 different tries to get that shoulder pad #I debated just giving him the armor he wore in the movie but idk I thought it was kinda ugly #lord of the rings #lotr #legolas #helm's deep #nibeul art #oh also yeah his hair fell out here. #hair tie snapped or got sliced ig

[son1c]

the value of the here and now

falling stars fic masterpost

Shadow’s hands were red and blistering from his fight with the Android. The heat of its metallic flesh had turned the white cloth of his gloves into a staunch black, and the scorched fabric was unravelling where his fingers met his palms. There was no fixing them--he'd just have to get new ones once they landed at Club Rouge.

So, Shadow peeled off the ruined gloves as he and the rest of Team Dark made their way back through the lower deck of the manta ray ship.

He was thankful for the hissing pipes surrounding them, because they covered up his own hisses of discomfort as he picked the stray strings off his paw pads.

Then, in a move that would surely sadden Captain Planet, Shadow dropped what was left of his gloves on the floor. But he couldn't bring himself to care about the fact he was littering. If anything, disrespecting an Eggman battleship with his trash brought him a sense of satisfaction.

Sonic glanced back at Shadow over his shoulder.

Tight-faced, Shadow kept his hands balled into fists during the rest of the walk back to the maintenance tunnel. He followed behind everyone else, and so he was the last to arrive at the foot of the ladder that led up to the hatch. His hands ached when he unclenched them.

It was going to be a long climb to the top.

“Hey, Omega,” Sonic said as Shadow reached for the ladder. “Mind if we hitch a ride?”

Shadow paused, his fingers brushing against the first rung of the ladder.

"REQUEST DENIED. IF YOUR FLIMSY FLESH LEGS ARE TIRED, THE INSUFFERABLE WASP MODEL CAN BE YOUR 'RIDE.'"

The buzzy bomber in Sonic's quills hummed in agreement. It started to beat its wings, but stopped when Sonic reached up and placed his hand on its head, a silent request. Then, with a click of his tongue, Sonic said, "I get it. Your rockets ain't tough enough to pull the extra weight. That right?"

Rouge raised an eyebrow. She looked over at Shadow, but he was staring intensely at Sonic.

Omega took a lumbering step toward Sonic. He hunched over the blue hedgehog, his shiny red eyes drilling into him like laser beams in the dark. “YOUR TINY BODY IS LIKE A FEATHER," Omega said. "MY EFFICIENCY WOULD BE UNAFFECTED BY YOUR ADDITIONAL WEIGHT.”

Sonic didn't match Omega's stare. Instead, he closed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, sounding real casual when he said, "Sure, dude. But that's just me. I bet if you tried it with everyone, it'd be a different story!"

"CEASE, BLUE HEDGEHOG.“

Omega snatched Sonic up like the hedgehog was nothing more than a hot pocket. He dropped him onto one of his broad metal shoulders with about as much care as a 4-year-old who had just been shown their dad's prized Gundam for the first time. But Sonic didn't mind--in fact, he practically had to bite his cheek to keep from grinning.

Shadow was next, and the dark hedgehog could only grimace when his burned hands smacked down on the robot’s shoulder. But at least the metal was cool to the touch.

Rouge was last, but she had chosen to float up to Omega's other shoulder without the robot's help.

Then, Omega ignited his thrusters, and the darkness surrounding them immediately fled to the recesses of the lower deck. Bright orange and yellow light filled the maintenance tunnel while Sonic and Rouge gripped Omega's handlebars.

Shadow would've done the same if there was a third handlebar. Unfortunately, there wasn't, and he was too proud to grab onto Sonic's arm, so he had to rely on sheer force of will to stay onboard as the robot rose through the tunnel and up to the hatch.

Once there, Omega blasted the hatch open with his fists, and tore it off its hinges. The entire thing went flying, and slammed into the wall with a bang so loud, it startled all of the badniks in the cabin. Even Buggy jumped a little, and it was behind a closed door in the cockpit.

Rouge dusted herself off. "Ah ha! A fabulous display," she said. "Even if it was a little… extravagant."

Omega twisted his head around so he could look at Sonic. "AWAITING CONFIRMATION: YOUR DOUBTS ARE NOW ERADICATED?"

Sonic hopped down from Omega's shoulder. "You sure proved me wrong," Sonic said. Then, he smiled apologetically. "You're tough stuff, Omega! Sorry for sayin' otherwise."

Omega examined Sonic. While the hedgehog rubbed the back of his neck, the robot had to ignore every scanner telling him that he was looking at an enemy badnik. "APOLOGY ACCEPTED," Omega finally said. "NEVER QUESTION MY STRENGTH AGAIN."

Five minutes later, Rouge had resumed her storytelling session with Omega, and Sonic and Shadow were back in the cockpit. The desert below them had started to give way to a scattered assortment of buildings, but it was still a far cry from the densely packed Night Babylon. As the manta ray battleship passed by overhead, a few people on the ground looked up, but all they could see was a shadow racing across the clouds.

There was nothing Shadow could use on the ship to dress his weeping hands. He’d have to wait until they reached Club Rouge to clean and dry them, and he planned on keeping them clenched until then, because the pressure made them hurt less.

So sloppy, that fight! So careless, the way he’d ignored the orange glow of the Android’s stripes! The furnace-like heat that had burned him should’ve come as no surprise.

While Shadow stewed in his thoughts, his expression darkened. He recalled the claw marks now marring his cheek. Just like his hands, they would heal. But for the time being, he was forced to carry them around, and they stung.

But what hurt the most was Shadow’s ego.

The dark hedgehog returned to his spot on the dashboard. If there was such a place, he would go to a corner of the ship that was completely isolated. But the only place like that was the lower deck, and he didn’t want to be subjected to his poor night vision playing tricks on him. As it was, the face of the Android already haunted the corner of his eye.

Sonic pulled Buggy into a one armed hug. "Great job, bud! I told you I've never met a ladybug who couldn't fly!"

The motobug beeped. Its antennas twirled at Sonic’s praise.

"So what if you're the only ladybug I've met? You can fly, can't ya?"

The motobug beeped again. This time, it scratched the front of its face with its claw in a bashful imitation of Sonic’s nose rub.

“Uh huh. Well, don’t let it get to your head, hot shot.” Sonic gave the motobug one last squeeze before letting go.

After he straightened, Sonic leaned against the side of the pilot’s chair. At first he looked out the window, but it wasn’t long before his eyes drifted over to Shadow, and then fell down to the hedgehog’s clenched hands. A pang of guilt twisted in his stomach.

"You really showed that fake who's boss, Stripes," Sonic said. "Heh. Yeah, I bet Mr. Ivo's boiling mad about it! He was all full of himself when he showed it off, like there was no way it could lose. But it couldn't live up to the real deal!"

Shadow pursed his lips. "Can it really be considered a fake?" Shadow asked. His claws dug into his palms, and the pain made his heart beat faster. "The face it wears has no identity. Maybe the shallow imitation here is…"

Sonic's eyes flickered. Anyone watching (Shadow wasn't in a state to notice) would've said there was a deep sadness swimming among them at that moment, but it was gone by the time he'd pushed himself away from the pilot's chair. A second later and he was holding Shadow's shoulders, his gaze searing into him like a pair of green suns. Intense, but not unkind.

Sonic said, "You're not some half-rate fake. You beat that thing, for starters. And I'm sorry you had to do that, by the way. If I hadn't been in such a rush to split town, I would've mopped the floor with it myself!"

Sonic leaned forward, hoping his words would sink into Shadow's thick skull. "You wanna know why you deserve your face? You wanna know who you are? Well, I've seen it. You're stubborn, you're strong, and you've got enough grit to sand any discount robo-duplicate into scrap metal!

"So don't let Egghead get in your head, alright? Cuz that's what he's countin' on. Don't let him have it."

There was nothing else for Shadow in that moment. There was no wind rushing by the outside of the ship, no beeping from the control panel, no motobug chittering curiously a few feet away. Sonic's eyes were shining like twin stars. And Shadow was reminded again of his dream, and the visage of the golden hedgehog, overflowing with power.

He felt some of that power now. That confidence. It radiated off of Sonic in waves, and Shadow desperately wanted to reach out and grasp it, to take some of it for himself. But the uncertainty that was plaguing him wouldn't be shaken off so easily. After all, it had been with him since the beginning, and its talons were wedged deep in Shadow's heart.

"Flattery won't get you far, hedgehog," Shadow said. However, his hands were ever-so-slightly relaxed. "Your words can't distract me from the truth. The value of my past far outweighs whatever the present has to offer."

Shadow raised a hand, intending to push Sonic's off him. But he paused when his knuckles brushed against Sonic's wrist. He remembered their conversation at the Starfall Festival, which felt like yesterday and a million years ago at the same time.

"But…"

Shadow's hand dropped back down to his lap.

"Your support is… appreciated." he said softly.

Sonic squeezed Shadow's shoulders. "It beats havin' to crawl outta the woods yourself, right?"

Shadow couldn't imagine it. Waking up in the crater alone. Confused, with no clues as to who he was or what had happened to him. With Sonic there, he'd immediately been given a goal. A purpose. To help him. If he hadn't been there, Shadow could've gotten scooped up by the G.U.N. soldier, or trapped by the cowboy ghost, or taken by Doctor Eggman. And without Sonic, the Doctor could've easily gotten into his head.

"I suppose it does," Shadow concluded.

His reward was a smile.

And then Sonic went back to the pilot's chair, and squeezed in next to Buggy. Shadow watched him take the controls back from the little robot, but whatever he was saying to the motobug didn't reach Shadow's ears. They were still swimming from Sonic's words.

He thought about the teammates he'd acquired. The connections he'd made.

Would it be right to allow himself to exist in the present?

Shadow recalled the ghostly space station. The place he felt such a strong connection to. The feelings, though buried and shrouded in mystery, still so clear. And the longing to understand why he wanted to call that place he couldn't remember "home."

And then the obligation returned. He couldn't turn his back on the graveyard of his past.

Shadow rubbed one of his inhibitor rings with his thumb. He looked over at the pilot's chair and saw Sonic and the motobug were squished together, playfully wrestling over who got to press the next button on the dash. Through the door, he could hear Rouge's voice raise as she got to the climax of her story, and Omega's metal joints creak as he leaned forward, completely enraptured by the carnage she was describing.

Shadow allowed himself to experience it.

#falling stars au #shadow's in his feelings again :/c #lotta stuff in this part i really enjoy :)

[yellowhollyhock]

early morning, day 14

nightwatcher raph

He had a routine that was working pretty well. As long as he was headed home by 4 am, he’d be safely in bed and by all appearances asleep before Donnie was up making breakfast.

Donnie’s breakfasts were horrible—he knew just enough about nutrition to put way too many elements into one meal, and absolutely nothing about flavor. But Mikey’s gigs were usually in the evenings, so it was hard for him to get up early. He’d make a big lunch and save the leftovers for dinner. Raph should’ve really been making dinners while Mikey covered lunch, but that would require having Donnie’s eyes on him in the evenings. He was already playing it risky. Better just let them think he was a bum.

Some mornings—like this one, when the streets were quiet—which only ever happened thanks to him—he’d head back early and do what he could.

The challenge was, he didn’t necessarily want them to know he’d been cleaning. He tried to do things quietly that Mikey would assume Donnie did and Donnie would assume Master Splinter did. Wiped down counters, dusted the living room, took out the trash.

They needed to vacuum, bad, but he couldn’t really do that without waking anyone.

So, he changed the vacuum bag and cleaned out the brushes. He was trying to decide if he should leave it out or not; on the one hand, it was evidence, but on the other hand, it was more likely to get vacuumed if the thing was right in their way.

When had they all gotten so burnt out? Had Leo really been pulling that much of the housework?

“Thanks for doing that.”

Raph startled, glancing between the exhausted form of his brother and the oven clock declaring 4:57. He refocused on his task, clenching his jaw in irritation.

“Donnie. What are you doing up?”

Instead of answering right away, Donnie padded towards him, sliding out a kitchen chair and settling down to watch him work.

“Gotta make breakfast soon.” He gestured at the vacuum, “Meant to get to that.”

Raph grunted and refused to look up. As the minutes ticked by in silence, he started to get antsy.

“What are you watching me for?”

“You don’t know that I’m watching you. You’re not even looking.”

Raph glanced up, and found Donnie was in fact staring, almost mesmerized, at the inside of the vacuum. In other words, he was watching him.

“You just waiting for me to mess up?”

“I don’t know how you could mess up cleaning out a vacuum.”

“Yeah, well—what are you doing up so early?”

This time, Raph looked at him. Looked hard, at the circles under his eyes, the slump in his shoulders, and most of all, the way he turned out to be just as shy about eye contact as Raph was.

“We got a letter from Leo yesterday.”

Raph’s heart sank. It should be a huge relief, but something in his brother’s fragile tone suggested otherwise. “Oh?”

“He sent it from Hawaii, but he said he wasn’t staying long. He’s probably headed to South America. Wasn’t too detailed, but at least we know he’s alive.”

Raph clicked the vacuum back together. “Anything about being late?”

“Nope. Which for me pretty much confirms he just lost track of time.”

“By two months?” Raph sneered, startling himself with the venom in his voice. It wasn’t Donnie’s fault. He needed to calm down.

It was a bit infuriating when his companion just shrugged. “He’s been through different timezones, and it’s not like he has a calendar. I’m sure we’ll see him soon.”

“Yeah. Right.” Raph couldn’t begin to explain the twisting feeling in his gut. He could find a post office, but not a calendar? Donnie might he ready to accept excuses, but Raph wasn’t.

He finished winding the cord back up, and hesitated.

“You can leave it out,” Donnie said softly. “I’ll vacuum later.”

He wanted to take that as an invitation to retreat to his room. But he could see his brother’s mind working, and he couldn’t really just leave.

He wasn’t like Leo.

He took the seat across from Donnie, and waited.

“Yesterday,” Donnie’s tone was deceitfully matter-of-fact, “Mikey asked me if I thought Leo was staying away on purpose.”

He glanced up to see Raph’s reaction, and he tried to give none. He didn’t do too well; he couldn’t help a scowl. “What’d you tell him?”

Donnie traced one of the table legs with his finger. “I told him I didn’t think so.”

Raph shifted in his seat, leaning across the table. “What do you think happened?” He really tried to make it a question and not a snarl. Just because he’d given up on Leo didn’t mean his brothers had to.

Donnie finally looked him straight in the eye. “I told Mikey that our brothers would never leave us. That we’re a family, we’ve only ever had each other, and as long as we possibly can be here, we would be.”

Raph narrowed his eyes, refusing to hear the reprimand. “And?”

Donnie sighed. “And that Leo probably just lost track of time.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes, turning only just away to hide, even though it must have still been obvious, that he was crying. “How long is that excuse gonna last?”

There was a long, hard silence between them. Then, like a final judgment, his brother’s soft tone ended the conversation.

“Usually until about 5:15. What do you want on your omelettes, Raph?”

He had to adjust his routine after that. He didn’t know what Donnie thought he was doing, but he clearly wasn’t buying sleeping all the time. He would have to come back a little earlier, make sure not to be caught like that again.

He didn’t know at the time that he’d need to keep it up for another ten months.

#tmnt #tmnt 2007 #2007 donnie #2007 raph #march for raph #yellow writes

[raisethestake]

Echo x Jedi reader

Mostly fluff. Enjoy!

(have a sketch I did of him too because he is just baby)

The War

· I led the 501st on missions fairly often, becoming good friends with them and finding a particular bond with Echo, bouncing off his strategic brain and cheeky nature. We had limited free time together, and both knew our duty and that nothing would ever come of it, but there was always a vibe there.

· I had left camp to meditate on a particularly difficult mission. Rex had sent Echo to check on me. He found me on a ridge at the edge of the woods overlooking the landscape we were heading into.

· After checking I was safe, I said I was staying here for a while. He asked if I wanted company and took a place beside me. We bonded over our feelings about being in the forces and the pressure that was on us. I briefly ran through my plan and where I was struggling and Echo provided some really smart insight. I was able to forge a plan that night that was successful thanks to him.

· When he died I felt like I'd lost my support human.

· I heard from Rex what had happened to him with the Bad Batch.

· I got the Bad Batch for a mission and Echo was there. We shook hands and shared the most powerfully grateful look.

· We sat quietly on a hill for the first time since reuniting, just like old times. We exchanged stories and he opened up about how he felt like his human side was slipping away. "So you look different. You're still Echo and that's what matters to me"

· To hear his little chuckle after so long made my heart swell. It made everything easier.

After the war

· After the war, I fled and ended up working as a bounty hunter.

· I came across the Bad Batch in an escape from a bit of shit and after Echo's insistance, tagged along for a while.

· The Batch could see our chemistry - finally seeing Echo how he used to be before his time on Skako.

· On Ord Mantell, I was playing chess with Tech and Echo was at the bar just looking at me. Hunter notices "Echo, you're staring."

· Echo is caught off guard "What? No-no." He avoids Hunter's eyes by looking down at his drunk but feels his gaze as he raises an amused eyebrow and chuckles quietly.

· "She looks at you too you know."

· He tries to brush this off, but it sticks in his mind.

· The banter gets more flirty. He doesnt realise because it happens so naturally with us, but Echo is a smooth talker.

· I'm training with Wrecker and Crosshair outside one day. Tech is on his pad (forced to get fresh air by Hunter), Hunter is sat sharpening knives in the doorway and Echo is at the bottom of the steps, staring again. I dont turn around but amid a completely unrelated comment directed to Wrecker, "Stop staring at my ass, Echo" makes him jump a little and go super red and flustered and Hunter smirks. I throw him a cheeky look before carrying on.

(When we're together I point out I noticed he watched me all the time on the front. "Don't worry I watched you too.")

FINALLY

· We were walking to Cid's bar one night when I came up to his shoulder. "So tell me if i'm getting this wrong, but, you know how the Jedi Order technically doesn't exist now and you're a deserter?"

· He looked at me and I started to head up the stairs instead of into the bar. He glanced after the Batch and then we headed upstairs and finally relished each other's prescense after years.

· We were up there for hours. Hunter could hear us pretty clearly and when Wrecker tried to go and find us following Tech's remark that both of us had been gone for some time. "Wrecker don't. They're upstairs." with a knowing look. Wrecker didnt catch on and tried to go up. "No Wrecker! I think they're... a bit BUSY." Wrecker caught on and "OOH. FINALLY."

· We came down about 4 hours later to Wrecker being very vocal about it. We laughed it off and the rest is history.

· We are like the weird auntie and uncle of the Marauder. We have slightly 'reg' conversations that the Batch don't always understand. I'll sit on the arm of the passenger seat and help him out with right hand buttons.

· We're not a big PDA couple. All we need is each other's presence. We tend to save private moments for when we think no one is watching.

· Sometimes he'll just look up at me while I'm working. I catch him and tease him a little and he doesnt brush it off anymore and embraces it.

· When one of us is sat on the steps of the Marauder, the other will sit on the step above and wrap their arms around the others neck.

#the bad batch headcanons #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #the bad batch x you #the bad batch x reader #tbb #tbb fic #tbb fluff #the bad batch fluff #echo #arc trooper echo #echo x you #echo x reader #tbb headcanons #jedi #jedi reader

[thefandomwritersblog]

A special shoutout to @souls-that-have-senses for your wonderful Beta reading. Your suggestions and edits are a gift and make editing a breeze rather than a stress. Also another special shoutout to @Nyxianthe as well, your help with the issues I was having with the first part of the chapter was invaluable!

I meant to get this out sooner, but the Tuesday before Thanksgiving I caught the flu. It knocked me off my feet for like two weeks, and it was very hard to string two thoughts together let alone two sentences lol. I hope this was all worth the wait however! Enjoy!

~~

Ghost of the Ten Horizon: Forbidden West Hekarro x Fem!Old One OC Action/Adventure/Hurt/Comfort/Romance Chapter 4

Part 1: Tomb of the Ten ~~

I never see what has been done; I only see what remains to be done." - Marie Curie

~~

The quiet was so thick it could have been chiseled out of the metal around them. It was the kind of silence that seemed to be sown into the room's very pores, as if it had always been there. Hekarro lingered at the rear of the chamber, watching Beta nibble on the pad of her thumb as she contemplated the tomb. Aloy and Kotallo remained motionless at her side, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the room.

Although they looked alike in every way, Beta and Aloy were as different as night and day.

Aloy was not the type to back down from any challenge, eager to take control regardless of whether it was needed from her or not. She was fierce and obstinate, unyielding to a fault. She would achieve her goals by any means necessary, often in creative ways that left her audience stunned. All commendable qualities that, had she been Tenakth, would have more than earned her the right to command her own squad within the tribe.

Beta on the other hand, was more cautious, more risk-averse than her sister. Yet beneath that quiet exterior lay a restless intellect that was unnerving in its perceptiveness. As if she was content to let events unfold further before reacting, all the better to gain an advantage. Even if Beta didn't realize it, Hekarro knew that she was displaying the thinking of a master tactician.

For all their differences, however, they were two halves of a whole. Together they were stronger and more capable than each could ever be alone.

"Beta," Aloy put out a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder and asked, "what do you need us to do?"

It took a minute for Beta to respond, tapping her Focus and saying, "I need you to run to the Zenith Base. There's a lab there with cutting-edge medicine I can use. I'll need it once I begin the thawing process." She then turned to Kotallo and asked, “If I send you a list of machine parts, can you get them for me?”

“Consider it done.” With a short, quick salute, Kotallo swept past Hekarro and left, his footsteps echoing and fading into the darkness with a steely determination.

“I’ll return soon.” Aloy promised before she scurried after Kotallo. Hekarro watched her retreating figure before he too joined Beta in her silent vigil. She stood still, her gaze fixed on the tomb before them. From his peripheral view, Hekarro tried to study her delicate features. To pinpoint her mood or at least decipher her thoughts. Yet, all he could make out was the overwhelming drone of the machines.

“Do you need anything from me, Beta?” Hekarro asked in an attempt to fill the silence.

The young woman shrugged. “Not that I can think of. It's going to take some time for Aloy and Kotallo to return with the resources I need, and I can't risk unfreezing the Old One without them," she explained, casually gesturing to the tomb, "but first, I need to restore the stasis system. Luckily, it's nothing beyond repair, but I still need it corrected to safely defrost your guest."

Hekarro looked ahead stoically, his lips tugging downward in a sympathetic frown.

“This is no small task,” he said with a grim shake of his head, “and I do not envy you for it.” She said nothing to that, and he turned to look at her with a questioning gaze. “Does it frighten you?”

Beta met his stare, and there her eyes revealed the strain of her thoughts—the single-minded determination to triumph, regardless of the risks. Hekarro huffed at that; perhaps Aloy and her sister were more alike in personality than he’d initially thought.

“The only thing that frightens me is what failure means for this Old One. One miscalculation or error on my part, and she's dead. A piece of human history forever lost because of me. I can’t–” she hesitated and turned away in embarrassment, wringing her hands with an inaudible murmur under her breath, “-I can’t fail her.”

“Fail who?” Hekarro asked, and he watched her intently but did not dare to move as Beta sighed and turned her gaze to the ceiling.

"I'm not sure what Aloy told you about us, but," she started, "we’re clones– copies– of an Old One named Elisabet Sobeck, each designed to rebuild and control the terraforming system she died for. A dream that was polluted by a narcissistic egomaniac trying to play God. Aloy has given so much to protect what is left of that dream—to protect GAIA and the Earth, but this Old One…”

“You believe this woman is the last hope humanity has to live up to that dream,” Hekarro concluded, looking at Beta, who nodded. “It hardly seems fair for us to expect that much from one person. To bear such a burden while having no say in the matter."

Tears glistened on Beta’s cheeks, and her lips trembled. She swallowed hard, her throat clicking in the silence of the room, as she tried to find the right words.

"You're right… I can't believe I almost… I didn't mean to—". She gave him a faint nod, her lips pressed together and a sad look in her pale green eyes. He watched as she slowly approached the Old One, a hand extended. Her fingertips brushed against the smooth surface of the tomb, and a sigh escaped her lungs. "I have to wake her because it's the right thing to do. Nothing more, nothing less."

She turned to look at him again, and a warm smile spread across her face. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

Hekarro nodded; he had no idea what internal struggle Beta was going through, and she had chosen not to share it with him. Rather than press her for answers, he decided to bow his head in farewell.

"I'm afraid I must leave you for the time being, Beta," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "However, if you need me, find one of the guards, and I will return as soon as possible."

She nodded and said, “I will, and thank you again, Chief Hekarro.”

After following its lengthy tunnels back towards the ruined arena, Hekarro soon emerged from the underground, his eyes adjusting to the daylight. The sky was a deep azure sheet of blue that stretched from horizon to horizon, with not a cloud in sight. He turned his face toward the sun, feeling its warmth on his skin. There was a strong scent of summer orchids in the air, barely masking the smell of food wafting from the Maw's kitchens. Around him, the arena was filled with the sounds of the Oseram laborers. They yelled and bantered as they worked; some hammering away at the stone while others carted away piles of debris.

And in the midst of it all, Petra stood firm and proud, her voice echoing like thunder through the arena and above the din of her clansmen. Her face was a mask of joy the moment she locked eyes with him, and before he could take a breath she all but sprinted across the arena floor to greet him.

“Hey there, Chief!” she called happily. “Busy morning?”

“You could say that,” Hekarro deadpanned, tiredly amused by the fire of this Oseram woman. She grinned up at him, and he barely bit back the chuckle in his chest, "I assume you have something you want to discuss with me?”

She gave him a wink. “What gave it away?”

He cast a sharp glance at the large leatherbound book tucked beneath her arm. Petra laughed, opened the book, and turned it toward him to show him sketches of the arena from different angles across several pages. Along the outline of the sketches and in the margins of the pages, he spotted several numbers and glyphs.

“You Tenakth have yourself a fortress here, and you’ve done pretty well to keep it from completely falling apart over the last twenty years.”

Hekarro cocked a brow. “But?”

"Wood only lasts so long," Petra explained solemnly, a small frown on her face, "and the machines are getting nastier by the year. Reinforcing the underground tunnels is a good idea, but it won't matter if the next Tremortusk flattens the place.”

“And so you drafted plans to reconstruct the arena?”

"That I did!" she beamed up at him, clearly pleased with herself. “It’s not a small job by any means, and the work would require a lot of patience on both sides, but I think it’s possible.”

“And you did this of your own volition?” Hekarro asked. “No one asked you to do this?”

Petra appeared to be largely oblivious to his obvious confusion as she pointed out key details in her sketches:

“We’ll need to start with digging out a secure base. Ten, maybe fifteen feet deep." She began, thumbing her chin as her eyes flicked up to survey the broken stone walls, "If I can swing it, I may be able to put steel supports down there to help keep everything in place."

She flipped to another page and gestured to more of her sketches, every little detail seemingly planned out, "Once that's all finished up, we'd start with restoring the broken walls. I’ve already scouted out a good spot for a quarry nearby, so we should be able to find decent stone for restoration. After that, we'd replace the wooden supports you have with steel ones."

Hekarro considered her for a moment longer before he huffed softly under his breath. "This is all well and good, Forgewoman, and make no mistake, I do not make it a habit of disregarding a blessing when it presents itself, but I do have to inquire as to why you would do this of your own free will. Especially when it has been made clear that the Oseram have done little to impress me thus far."

Petra shot him a cheeky grin and nudged him in the arm, “You know what, Chief, you’re an honest man, and I appreciate that. The least I could do is be just as honest with you, and the simple fact is that this place is a damn hazard. If I walked away without at least trying to keep it intact, I'd kick myself if something happened. It also helps that Aloy likes you all, and I trust her when she says that you're good people.”

He took one last glance at her sketches. While he was no expert on the matter, Hekarro knew this was no small endeavor she was planning, as it would take months before the final work was completed. Maybe even years. He did not enjoy the idea of the Oseram within the Grove for so long, given past experiences the Tenakth had with the Outlanders.

“You’ve given me much to consider,“ Hekarro admitted, "and I would ask that you allow me time to think this over.”

"I get you, Chief Hekarro," she said, snapping her book shut and tucking it safely back under her arm. "You know where to find me when you’ve made your decision."

Petra waved farewell with a gleaming smile and an eager stride. Hekarro smiled, then turned and climbed the nearby ramp to return to the arena's walls. Upon reaching the overlook, he paused to survey the structure below, and the sight sent despair shuddering through his veins. Even from his vantage point, Hekarro could see that it was shattered with crumbling stones scattered amongst the wreckage.

"Blood of the Ten, Hekarro," Dekka said as she joined him on the overlook, almost startling him if it hadn’t been for the telling sound of her footsteps upon the ancient stone. "I swear, every time I see you, your frown deepens. If you're not careful, you'll end up with wrinkles like mine."

Her attempt at humor drew a chuckle from him, and his worries seemed to vanish, if only for a few seconds. "Do you need something, or did you just seek me out to harass me?”

"I consider it my sacred duty to harass you," Dekka said with a smile before patting his arm gently. “I like to think it keeps you humble.”

Hekarro wanted to roll his eyes, but found himself in a mix of frustration and amusement instead.

Dekka let out a hearty laugh, nudging him in the arm before she finally composed herself. “Some guests have just arrived at the Grove asking for an audience with you,” she continued. “They are waiting for you in the throne room.”

“As you say, Chaplain.” Hekarro spun around, curious as to who had sought him out. Even though it seemed to happen more often in recent years, outsiders didn't often seek an audience with him. Dekka, on the other hand, didn't seem overly concerned, which gave him some modicum of comfort. He navigated the rear corridors to get from the overlook to the throne room, rounding the shimmering visions that surrounded his throne, and he paused in pleasant surprise at the pair of Utaru lingering in the room.

Hekarro soon found himself in the old warrior's tight embrace, a small grin spreading across his face as he drew back to clasp the man's shoulders.

"It's good to see you, Jaxx," he said, giving the man a quick once-over. “You look well.”

Jaxx chuckled and squeezed his arm tight. “You as well, old friend.”

Hekarro hadn't seen Jaxx since the Red Raids, when the Tenakth had invaded Barren Light and destroyed it. He remembered Jaxx then, standing tall and fearless alongside the Utaru youth, raising their weapons to fight back against the invaders. Yet there was no mistaking the streaks of gray in Jaxx's hair or the wrinkles that now showed on his weathered face, signs of the years that had passed since that fateful day.

Hekarro’s sharp gaze fell upon a young man who lingered just behind Jaxx. He was no older than seventeen or eighteen years old, his face a mask of curiosity and excitement. He craned his neck to watch the two closely, but there was an awkwardness to his posture that beseeched Hekarro to offer him a small smile. An old, well-worn bow was slung across his back, a heavy quiver at his side, and even his armor seemed weathered from use and age.

Jaxx noticed his interest and was quick to pull back to the young man’s side to bring him front and center.

“Chief Hekarro,” It was hard to mistake the pride in his tone, “this is my grandson, Lekku.”

He was taken aback, humbled and yet pleased, as the young man bowed to him in respect,

“I am humbled to be in your presence, Chief Hekarro,” he said with a playful smile, looking over to his grandfather. “Especially after hearing all about you in my grandfather’s stories.”

Hekarro chuckled, amused that he was the center of so many tales these days. “It is good to see you, old friend, and you honor me by bringing your grandson to meet me, but the Grove is not an easy walk from Plainsong. What is it you seek from me?”

Jaxx nodded. “Keen as always, Chief Hekarro, but as you said, it’s been quite a long trip.” Looking over at Lekku, he said with a smile, “I think we’d both appreciate some time to rest.”

“You are both welcome here and are free to roam the Maw,” Hekarro assured warmly, "but I would advise you to avoid the arena for the time being; with recent happenings, it is not safe. I will talk to Chaplain Dekka to see if room can be made in the barracks for you both.”

"As you say, Chief Hekarro," Jaxx saluted before turning to clasp his grandson's shoulders. He gently guided them down the stairs towards the Hall of Visions, his voice barely above a whisper. “Come, there is much to show you about our history.”

Hekarro stood there with his hands clasped behind him as the two of them walked away. He watched until both of their shadows disappeared over the threshold of the archway. Only once they were out of sight did he breathe a sigh of relief. He felt a sudden presence at his side and turned to meet Dekka’s questioning gaze. He couldn’t help but offer her a helpless shrug in reply,

“I am unsure as to what it is he wants,” he muttered. Dekka frowned at that,

“A request from Plainsong, perhaps? Jaxx is one of the last living veterans we sent them, so it stands to reason that the Chorus would have him deliver whatever proposal they have in mind."

“A likely possibility.” Hekarro hummed softly under his breath before he shook his head. “Regardless, they are to remain here as my guests. Have room made for them in the barracks.”

“It's already taken care of, Chief Hekarro,” Dekka said, not meeting his eyes as she shifted her gaze to the ground. With a couple of steps, she closed the distance between them, speaking in a hushed voice as she asked, “What of Aloy's sister? Has she found out anything more about our other ‘guest’?”

All at once, Hekarro felt all his tension and anxiety solidify in his shoulders. Wordlessly, he turned to walk to his throne and sit upon it in thoughtful silence. Dekka, ever patient, waited at the foot of the small step as she looked up at him.

“After speaking with Beta, it is increasingly clear that, despite being frozen in time, this Old One is incredibly lucky to be alive,” he spoke after a moment of solemn silence.

Dekka nodded with a frown. “Have you decided what to do with her?”

“I have,” he said, letting out a weary sigh. “This finding puts me in an uncomfortable position. On the one hand, I don’t know this woman. I don’t know her beliefs, or her principles. I can’t guarantee that she won’t turn on us once she is awakened. For this reason alone, I am half tempted to keep her asleep.”

“But?”

"Keeping her frozen is an unjust punishment that is ultimately unfair to a woman who I believe is innocent in all of this." Dekka blinked, but before she could so much as voice her confusion, Hekarro continued. "Anne spoke of duty and selfishness in her last testament. How she predicted this woman's emotions. Does this sound like someone who purposefully chose to sleep for a thousand years, Chaplain?"

“It does not,” she admitted before fixing him with a stern eye. “You understand that there are consequences to these actions, that once she is awake it is unlikely we can put her back to sleep?”

“I do, Chaplain. It has crossed my mind several times that this Old One could very well harm us just as easily as she could help us, but Marshal Kotallo made a good point about the consequences of keeping her frozen. If we are the ones to wake her, we are the ones to have better control of the outcome.”

“And what if it is not enough?” Dekka questioned, and all at once the room seemed to grow cold. “What if, despite all of our best efforts, this Old One does become a threat? Are you willing to kill Anne Faraday’s daughter to protect our people?”

Unbidden, his eyes turned to the final message of Anne Faraday. Her plea for peace rang as clear as the day he first saw her vision in the Grove. She was the reason the Tenakth stood as they did today, and she had given her life for her daughter, whose fate now rested in his hands. As hard as the question was, and even if she herself believed the woman innocent, Dekka was still right in asking it. After all, it was her duty to safeguard and guide the Tenakth.

And Hekarro gave her a single, resolute nod.

“Progeny or not, if this woman makes herself a threat, I will protect my tribe.”

~~

The field is engulfed in a roaring inferno of flames that lick at the sky, the thick blanket of smoke so dense it forces the poisonous air into her lungs and makes it near impossible to breathe. The smell of burning metal and death fills the air as the once golden reeds are reduced to blackened dust beneath her knees. The sharp wind howls, stirring the ashes into a frenzied dance before the gathering storm clouds above her. Before her lies the broken body of the stallion, once wild and free, now nothing more than a charred skeleton. There is no beauty or majesty here, only the oppressive feeling of death that looms over her like a shroud.

She clamps her eyelids shut, desperately trying to make the nightmare disappear. When she forces them open she finds herself back home. Instead of the warmth of familiarity, her soul is wracked with terror. The house which was once a glorious symphony of music and laughter lays silent and still. With a fear that tightens her chest she pads through the house, passing through the doorways in search of her family. But all is empty and quiet. The worry constricting her veins, she finds the front door wide open, yet for some unexplainable reason she can’t seem to move away from the threshold, and she forces herself through it with a heaviness in her heart. The Faraday ranch lies quiet before her, filled with death and destruction in every corner. Cattle lay lifeless across the plains, their stillness almost peaceful despite the carnage.

Tears stream down her face as she looks on in abject terror. Her gut churns with an icy chill and her throat tightens, unable to make a sound. Glancing to the right, she spots the porch swing which holds the eerily still figures of her mama and papa, their hands clasped in an unyielding grip, a frozen tableau of loss trapped in time.

Desperate to escape this nightmare, she spins and runs only to find herself trapped in a metal encasement. She slams her fists against the metal prison as she screams in rage. The sound echoes in hollow reverberations around her and through the glass where a blurry face remains unmoved. She still recognizes the figure, however, and she feels the indignant anger rise in her chest.

This isn’t fair!

This isn’t what she wanted!

But her desperate cries fall on deaf ears, and the silhouette of her heartless mother starts to drift away. Her chest constricts, tears burst from her eyes. As if in a trance, a sinister mist swirls around her, consuming her in its icy depths until she can barely remember her own name.

Was this death? A dream? Some terrible space in between, caught in an endless loop of pain and terror she’ll never escape from? If she closes her eyes, will she ever be able to see her family again?

She just wants to be with them again…

If there is a god in the universe, she prays, please just let her feel their embrace one last time…

#horizon forbidden west #hfw #hfw fanfic #hfw writing #horizon fanfic #horizon writing #horizon zero dawn #beyond the horizon #hekarro #chief hekarro #Aloy #Beta #Kotallo #Petra #Dekka #Jaxx #Old One OC #ghost of the ten

[dream-diary-of-a-random-person]

How do I Name This One? - 7/28/23

I had a lot of dreams last night that I remember small fragments of.

1. I was in the lobby of a Great Wolf Lodge (which was very spacious and had a high ceiling). The place was super empty, one on desk worker and a group of about 6 people (all one family) who were checking in. Someone was with me. I commented on how empty the place was, to which they said it wasn't. We debated a bit, before we both gave up and the other person began to tell me about stories when they worked at a hotel. I began to eat some fries from a cardboard container. I held the container sideways and had put some ketchup on the top part of the opening, which made it kind of hard to get a fry without touching the ketchup with my fingers.

Notes 1: - That was not what a real Great Wolf Lodge lobby looks like. - The fries were crinkle-cut and could have used more salt.

2. I can barely remember this one, but I'm pretty sure I had a dream where Doodlebob was learning how to drive a car. Patrick and Plankton were there, as well as Spongebob, but I can't remember much of it. At one point when Doodle was parking the car, it rolled back a couple of feel. Spongebob drew a line behind the back wheels with red paint.

Notes 2: - I believe this dream took place after the next one (3).

3. I had a dream were me and some friends went to a McDonald's. One of them was going to pay for our meals. I just wanted some fries, but it turns out they were all out. I was then debating getting ice cream, but they had a TON of flavors with enticing names that didn't describe the flavors. We ended up getting to the front of the line (where we were to pick up our order) and they also had different colored cones. I decided not to get any ice cream.

Notes 3: - Some of the ice cream names were day/night themed. - All of the ice cream looked to be berry/fruit flavored. - Only one or two of the friends were people I know irl.

4. I was in some gymnasium type place with I believe padded flooring? The lights were dim and there was a video being projected on one of the walls. There were other people in there, all of which were either laying down, doing their own thing, or watching the video. No one was talking. I decided to experiment with how flexible I am. I ended up being able to curl my back in a way that let me put my feet on the floor in front of my shoulders as I laid down on my stomach. I also did something with my arm, but I don't remember what, and even had trouble remembering in the dream.

Notes 4: - I have no idea if I can do that in real life or not. My guess is no since I've had no flexibility training.

5. I was in some building that was possibly a school? I was looking around and ended up opening a door that lead to a hallway, as well as some other buildings (more like an alleyway, I guess?). Some of these buildings were dark and kind of drawn-looking. Outside were a few creatures, some shadow beings, some just off-looking. All were humanoid. I talked to them a bit, and one tried to attack me. I yoinked their weapon and threw it inside the building I came from. I continued to explore the alley after, going into some buildings here and there. Most of them seemed to be abandoned/in a state of disrepair.

I wound up leaving that area, and ended up finding some aura nodes (from the Minecraft mod Thaumcraft 4) as well as a vortex which appeared to be stable. I had a staff with me now, which I was about to charge when the vortex began to show some signs of instability. I used warded glass to protect the nearby nodes, and flew off to look through my book to figure out what I needed to stabilize the vortex. Some eldritch guardians began to spawn close to the vortex, which alarmed me a bit. I ended up rearranging my inventory to make sure I had the necessities in my hotbar. Before I could do anything about what was happening, the ground suddenly began to be covered in lava. Luckily for me I was in creative mode, and had been hanging out in a tree. The eldritch guardians died and I ended up winging it when it came to making sure the vortex was stable. I places the blocks that I (hopefully) needed to in the right spots, and it seemed to work fine. I then flew off to try and get back home.

I landed in a place I thought was close to my home, but it turns out it wasn't. I began to look at some spots around the area, and marked one for me to come back to an forage. A few other people showed up and one guy began to tell me about some of these plants and fruits that were around. One was a large yellow fruit that grew in clusters. The outer texture of it was bumpy in a lined kind of way (like the outside of a pumpkin, but even thinner segments). I forget the name, but it had "sour" in it. I planned to get some seeds from it and grow a few in the future. There was also a plant that grew black-colored berries, which looked like a combination of elderberries and wild grapes. I never figured out if they were edible or not.

Notes 5: -I think this dream took place after the previous dream (4). - Eldritch Guardians in Thaumcraft scare me even in creative mode. - I almost always play Minecraft in creative. - I had found a knife at some point but forget when. It was during the search of those buildings. I didn't have it afterwards.

6. I was at school. Turns out the school was a mix of humans as well as some of the animatronics from Five Nights at Freddy's (though they looked like cartoons). I talked to a few of them for a moment (I believe Bonnie and Chica) before me and a friend left the classroom and headed outside. Despite it being a highschool setting, it was apparently recess time (though in the dream, I felt unsure when calling it that). Me and the friend walked and talked a bit. I believe we were on a paved area that turned into a grassy one. At one point someone somehow managed to put a mask on my face. I took it off after a moment and looked around for who did it, but didn't find anyone else close enough. It was a Sun mask. My friend ended up trying it on as well.

Notes 6: - In the dream I was wearing fuzzy pajama pants as well as a hoodie. My hood was up outside. - I do own that pair of pants in real life. They're black with white stars on them. Very comfy. - The "friend" of mine is someone I don't really know. They were tall and kinda lanky. I think they had a dull green jacket on and had dark hair.

7. Bug death mention. I was in my room. I had woken up at night and there were some bugs that had gotten in. One was a large moth that I was able to catch inside to small plastic boxes. I also caught a Japanese beetle, which I crushed by accident when I caught the moth. When I went to put the moth outside, it had become a butterfly with black wings that had yellow spots. I released it, only to find out I had accidentally decapitated it when I caught it. I felt bad about it, but decided I could keep the wings. The body had landed on the porch outside, which now had some ice and snow on it. I carefully picked up the body, but the legs and wings still twitched and moved every now and then. This freaked me out a little since the butterfly should have been dead by this point. I returned to my room and found a large wasp-beetle like bug on a wall as well as a smaller brown/tan/beige butterfly, which seemed to still be inflating its wings.

Notes 7: - The type of butterfly I had caught was one I've seen in real life. - Before I fell asleep I remembered a fly I had killed by accident. I think this may have been a guilt dream.

#dreams #misc. dreams #school dreams #bug dreams #fandom dreams #Spongebob dreams #Minecraft dreams #FNaF dreams

[d0llpie]

HOOOOLY HECK HI YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN YES uh okay s o. if I remember correctly I saw a work by you about chubby! reader which is what I've been looking for!!! I was wondering if you could do 46, 42, 39, and 41-based hc's for seijoh 4 by any chance? or Matsukawa (i haven't seen any x chubby!reader works for matsuwukawa and it drives me insa n e) and/or any of the seijoh 4 you prefer to write for most? thank you so much!!!!! <3

Seijoh Four, chubby reader scenarios

Oikawa x reader, Iwaizumi x reader, Matsukawa x reader, Hanamaki x reader

content warnings: suggestive nsfw for iwaizumi, food mentions + feeling guilty, very very slight assault, swearing

Prompt: “You don’t think i can pick you up?” “I don’t think i could love you any more than i already do” “I hate seeing you cry” “Don’t fucking touch them”

a/n: Hii love ! Thank you for the request ! i did one prompt for each boy so they have very different scenarios, hope you enjoy <333

wc: 2.7k

Oikawa “I don’t think i could love you anymore than i already do”

- Dating Oikawa required you to be pretty secure and confident

- He was the great king, known for his looks and admired by many fans, many of who you thought were prettier than you

- You never brought this up with him, he was always so strong, a confident leader, it’s why you loved him

- You also knew he overworked himself and that you and Iwaizumi were the only ones able to make him take a break

- You didnt need to stress him over silly things like your inferiority

- He loved you and you never doubted that, still, you couldn’t help but grow quiet as you were pushed away from the team by a swarm of pretty, thin, perfect fangirls who came to congratulate your boyfriend

- “Oi Shittykawa we have to pack up” Iwa noticed you seemingly growing smaller, fiddling with your hands as you stared at the girls surrounding him

- “Iwa-chan you’re so impatient, where’s y/n?” you looked up and tapped his shoulder from behind him, earning many glares from his fangirls

- “Ah there she is!” he cradled your face and gave you a peck on the lips before taking your hand in his, his fangirls scoffed but if he noticed he didn’t react

- You on the other hand just wanted to go home, usually you were good enough at fighting off these thoughts but today you just couldn’t shake them

- “Tooru, can we go?” you tugged on his sleeve and he turned to you before wincing slightly “Tooru where are your knee pads!” you scolded him

- “Ahaha sorry girls, i have to go know, thank you for your support, i appreciate it very much!” the group whined and shot you glares, blaming you for his early leave

- “Iwa, his knee is busted can you help” you slipped his arm around your shoulder and waiting for Iwa to take the other side

- “y/n-chan please, i don’t need help” you glared at him and he shut up, Iwa took his other side and you started to walk

- You were so caught up in your thoughts of insecurity and worry for Oikawa that you didn’t hear him ask you a question

- “y/n-channn why are you ignoring me, i’m sorry, i swear i’ll rest all day tomorrow” you looked over to him “i’m sorry baby what did you say?” he frowned before making you stop walking

- “i asked what was wrong, you’re really quiet” you smiled up at him “oh it’s nothing baby, how is your knee?” he huffed out in frustration, he hated when you did this, knowing you hated when he did it too

- “y/n. don’t do that, talk to me” you sighed “it’s dumb” you fiddled with the ends of your hoodie, pulling it out to make it appear looser

- “If you’re insecure right now i’m gonna kick ur ass with my broken knee :(“ you giggled at him lightly before smacking him “i know i told you it was dumb..”

- He frowned again “baby, you always make me talk about what’s really going on, i need you to do the same so i can help you..” he was right.. “It’s just, i don’t know, your fangirls today were staring at me a lot and they’re all so skinny and pretty and i just-it went to my head”

- He pouted before cupping both your cheeks “i don’t think i could ever love you more than i already do.. You have no idea how often i think i’m not enough for you baby, but you’re so much more than enough for me j couldn’t possibly be with anyone else, no one could treat me the way you do, you’re perfect in my eyes”

- A stray tear fell down onto his thumb as he swiped it away “Kawa of course you’re enough! You’re so talented and perfect, you always communicate with me and put effort into everything you do i’m so proud of you, please don’t doubt yourself!” he laughed at your scolding “how can you be so blind”

- You smiled at him as he pressed his lips against yours, pulling you against his body as he deepened the kiss “oi shitheads! hurry up!” You broke apart to see Iwaizumi ahead of you both waiting impatiently

- You laughed before taking his hand and continuing to walk, squeezing his hand lightly

Iwaizumi “i hate seeing you cry”

- You felt so guilty, you had just eaten what you thought was way too much cake and were now crying in front of the mirror

- You couldnt seem to find anything about yourself attractive, everytime you saw your reflection your eyes zeroed in on your flaws

- You grabbed at your stomach, your sides, everywhere you could while looking into the mirror with red puffy eyes

- Iwaizumis footsteps could be heard approaching your room, you quickly turned around and threw on one of his hoodies, trying to find some pants

- He opened the door to see you in his hoodie and some panties and immediately smirked “hi baby, what’re trying to do?” you shot up and slowly turned to face him, tugging the hoodie down as far as you could

- His smile dropped when he saw your tear stained cheeks and red eyes “y/n? what happened baby cmere” he pulled you into his chest, rubbing up and down your back before bringing you to the bed to sit on him

- You tried to speak but your eyes welled up with tears again “Haji, i need to get some pants..” you whispered, afraid your voice would crack if you spoke any louder and he felt his heart sink

- “Hey hey, tell me what happened” he smoothed your hair down before kissing your forehead, resting his hands on your hips

- he squeezed your hips reassuringly, a habit of his, but you tensed up. He put two and two together and sighed “i hate seeing you cry”

- “i just- don’t you want me to lose weight?” you looked up at him, wiping your tears on the ends of his hoodie while he gripped your hips harder

- “what the fuck are you talking about” he grunted before moving his hands to your ass “i love your body, i love all of you and i intend to spend the rest of my life reminding you how much i love you.” you smiled tearily at him and he kissed you firmly

- he began smoothing his hands over your ass and you chuckled at him “what’re you doing Haji?” “oh c’mon, you look so beautiful in my hoodie what do you expect, you’re always so beautiful..” he kissed you again, rougher this time before leaning back to throw his shirt off

- “I’m going to prove to you just how attractive i find you okay?” you nodded, he gripped the ends of his hoodie, trying to pull it off you but you held it down “wait-“ you looked into your lap, he sighed softly lifting your chin with his thumb and forefinger “if you don’t want to that’s okay baby, but if you don’t want me to see you because you’re insecure i’m going to have to beat you up for thinking badly about the love of my life.”

- You chuckled before kissing him again, letting him take off the hoodie “i love you haji..” “i love you too baby”

Matsukawa “don’t fucking touch them”

- You were out at a bar with Issei and Hanamaki, it had been a while since you’d hung out with your boyfriends best friend and you were all free after work and decided to grab drinks

- Since you’d been there, Issei had had a strong grip around your waist, making you sit on top of him and gripping your thighs every chance he got

- He only got like this when he was jealous but you don’t know why he’s been acting this way in front of Hanamaki

- You were talking to Hanamaki about an angry customer at work when Isseis hold around your middle tightened “baby i’m going to the bathroom you’re trying to squeeze the alcohol out of me” you chuckled getting off his lap and giving him a kiss on the cheek

- “be safe” you nodded before heading to the bathroom, wondering why he was acting so strange, you couldn’t tell but someone across the bar had been eyeing you up since you came in

- You were walking back out when someone stopped you in the hallway “hi pretty/handsome” the man reeked of strong liquor and you tried to push past them but he caged you against the wall

- “it’s rude to ignore people, didnt nobody ever teach you any manners?” he started to slur, dropping his hand down to your body “Isse-“ you were cut off by his other hand covering your mouth

- You shoved him off of you, he looked angry, he was about to storm back towards you when a fist connected with his face, knocking him back into the wall behind him “don’t fucking touch them.”

- Issei spat at the man before grabbing you and pushing your head into his chest “i wasn’t, i don’t wanna touch a fatass like them anyway” this time it was hanamaki to punch him, knocking him to the ground

- He shook his fist “ah fuck, y/n, you okay?” you nodded, smiling at your friend before looking up at Matsukawa who was looking down at you concerned

- “i’m okay baby, really, thank you” he hummed “i’m never letting you out of my sight again, i knew he was looking at you...you know you’re perfect right? don’t listen to him.” you nodded again, burying your face into his chest

- “i know, let’s just go home mkay? you both need to get some ice on your hands” Issei smiled, kissing the top of your head before taking his jacket off and putting it on you

- After you’d iced hanamakis hand and said your goodbyes you were on the couch with Matsukawa “Issei what’s up baby?” he was scowling at the wall so you sat down beside him

- “i just don’t understand how he had the nerve, i mean what a fucking ass.” you hummed, tracing your fingers over the tattoo on his arm, knowing it calmed him down

- He pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him “you’re okay though right?” you pushed your thing in between his brows to make him stop frowning, “yes baby i’m fine! please stop stressing” you kissed his forehead and he sighed, burying his face in your chest

- “i love you, and your body” he squeezed you tighter into his embrace, mumbling into your chest and you stroked his hair “i love you too Issei, honestly you’re more worked up about this than me, let’s go to bed okay?” he hummed, standing up with your legs wrapped around his waist before carrying your to bed

- He collapsed onto the mattress, on top of you, cuddling back into your chest with your legs tangled as you fell asleep in each others arms.

Hanamaki “you don’t think i can lift you?”

- Hanamaki was on his way home from work, he had texted you many times but you didn’t answer, you were fast asleep on the couch with one of your favourite shows playing in the background

- He tried to call you to see if you wanted him to bring anything home but you still didn’t answer, he was slightly worried so he tried to get home faster

- When he entered the house he called out “y/n? i’m home” he moved further into the house, seeing you fast asleep in the couch and he smiled

- He brushed the hair out of your face before flicking your forehead “dumbass you shouldn’t fall asleep on the couch” you stirred in your sleep but didn’t fully wake up

- He lifted you up, carrying you to the bedroom before putting you under the covers. He went to take a shower hoping you’d wake up by the time he got out

- You woke up in your bed confused, you could’ve sworn you were on the couch, you figured you’d woken up and came to the bed to sleep

- The sound of the shower turning off alerted you to Hanamakis presence and you jumped out of bed “maki? hi love!” you kissed his cheek as he finished drying off his hair “hi, how was ur nap?” you smiled “good, didnt mean to sleep for so long, i haven’t made anything to eat”

- “it’s okay, your food sucks anyway” you stuck out your tongue as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, moving back into the bedroom “you look tired, c’mon i’ll carry you back to the couch while i check the fridge”

- you looked over at him confused before scoffing “yeah right” he looked over at you “what?” you raised your brow at him, gesturing your hands down your body before laughing softly

- He was quite offended to be honest “you don’t think i can lift you?” you looked over at him as if it was obvious before trying to exit the room.

- He ran over and pulled you into a hug from behind “excuse me, who do you think carries your sleepy ass from the couch to bed everytime you fall asleep watching your stupid shows?” you turned around in his hold “i walk?” he scoffed, you were serious?

- without warning he hoisted you up in his hold, smirking proudly at your flustered reaction “what were you saying about my big beefy muscles?” you rolled your eyes, tapping him to let you down, instead he began walked to the kitchen

- “maki put me down!” you tried to get out of his hold which earned you a slap on the ass “shhh, gosh i can’t even be a nice boyfriend!” he whined before putting you down on the couch

- “you’re welcome your highness” he bowed and you giggled “okay okay you can lift me” “hell yeah i can babe, these guns aren’t for show, plus, you’re a lot lighter than you think you are”

- you blushed at his words and he leaned in to kiss you sweetly “alright i’m checking the fridge, you can watch your show again but when i come back we’re watching something else okay?” you nodded before smiling, pulling Makis hoodie up to your nose and inhaling deeply

- You both settled into the couch and ate leftovers for dinner, talking about your days. After you finished you cleaned up before making your way back to the couch to settle in between Hanamakis legs

- You felt your eyelids growing heavy and you snuggled further into his chest before falling asleep. Maki felt your breathing slow and even out, he looked down and smiled at your sleeping face

- “i guess you’re making me do this again?” he sighed before pressing a kiss to your forehead, turning off the tv and slipping an arm under your legs and shoulders

- Once he carried you to bed for the second time that day he slipped under the covers with you, pulling you back into his chest and sighing “goodnight babe”

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu comfort #hq fluff #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi comfort #iwaizumi angst #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa fluff #jealous matsukawa #chubby reader #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki fluff #seijoh four #seijoh x chubby reader #oikawa x chubby reader #iwaizumi x chubby reader #matsukawa x chubby reader #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki x chubby reader #aoba johsai

[the-iceni-bitch]

Every Little Thing

Pairing: Colin Shea x fem!Reader

Words: ~4.3k

Summary: You and Colin are two slutty pea in a pod neighbors, but maybe you could be more?

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, f receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex), idiots in love, excessive alcohol consumption, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: Ugh, I love Colin and I can’t believe it took me so long to write him. Before I get a bunch of notes about it, they’re gonna realize their feelings eventually but it might take a couple fics because they’re both morons, but they’re pretty morons so it’s fine 😉

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!!!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Oh god, what the fuck was that noise? Why was your phone ringing at 8 AM on a fucking Sunday?

You picked up the offensive object and growled when you got a look at the caller ID.

“Colin, it’s Sunday morning, this had better be really good. I didn’t get home until 4 AM.”

“She won’t fucking leave.” He hissed over the line. “She wants to go out for waffles.”

“I fail to see how this is my problem.” You grumbled, rolling over onto your back and flinging your arm over your eyes. “Just ditch her at the fucking waffle place.”

“C’mon, Y/N, that’s like a second date. What about our deal?” That fucking deal, he definitely benefitted more from it than you did.

“You’re an asshole.” You mumbled, sitting up with an exhausted groan. “Gimme 5 minutes.”

“You’re the best!” You could hear the fucking grin in his voice and rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah, I fucking know.” You didn’t wait for him to confirm before you hung up on him, stretching your whole body as you moved to put on some clothes.

It only took you a few minutes to pull on some old jeans and a sweatshirt and then you were stomping across the hall to Colin’s apartment, determined to make this as uncomfortable as possible for him. 

“Colin Shea!” You pounded on the door viciously. “This is your wife! I found your little love nest! What hooker do you have in there now?”

You couldn’t help but grin to yourself as you heard a commotion from inside, someone was cursing up a storm and you were pretty sure you heard a couple of slaps.

“I can hear you in there.” You tried to make it sound like you were on the verge of tears. “What about Colin Junior? I’m not raising that baby on my own, you bastard!”

The door slammed open and a very angry looking woman stormed out, shooting a glare over her shoulder and calling Colin a motherfucker as she scurried down the stairs. He came rushing after her with a frustrated look on his face, rubbing the side of his jaw and scowling when he got a look at the shit eating grin on your face.

“My wife?” He asked incredulously, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over his naked torso as you just continued laughing at him. “That was kinda mean.”

“8 AM on a Sunday, Shea.” You booped his nose with your finger and winked at him before turning to head back to your place. “You wake me up before 10 AM on a weekend and you take what you can get. I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait, Y/N, don’t you wanna have breakfast or something?” He jogged after you, ignoring the glower you shot him as you opened your door. “I’ll make you my famous eggs.”

“Did you not hear me when I said I got in at 4 AM?” You frowned at him when he kept you from closing your front door. “Colin, quit being so clingy. If I wanted to have breakfast with some annoying dude I would’ve actually brought that lawyer from last night home.”

“A lawyer, huh?” He was giving you one of those stupid looks that he typically reserved for girls he was trying to bang but that he definitely knew didn’t work on you. “And that didn’t even do it for you.”

“I mean, I still rode that beard for a good hour, but he was super depressing.” You kept knocking your door against his foot with an annoyed air. “Which is why I need to sleep, so get out of my fucking doorway.”

“Fine, we’re hanging out later though!” He called as you slammed the door in his face.

You just ripped off your clothes and crawled back into bed, burying your face in your pillows and cursing the sun as you did your best to fall back asleep.

It must have happened at some point, because you woke up six hours later with a mouth full of cotton and absolutely drenched in sweat. Why was it so fucking hot?

The pillow case tried to come with your face when you rolled out of the bed and you threw it away from you with a huff as you padded to inspect your air conditioner. 

It wasn’t on. You knelt in front of it and whined as you tried flicking it off and on and nothing happened. This could not be happening, not with summer just about to start. It was supposed to be in the 90s today. No matter what you tried, it didn’t turn on. Granted, all you tried was unplugging it and plugging it back in, but that always worked with your computer.

The call to the repair company was no luck, they were closed for the weekend. This was going to suck, you fucking hated being hot. You moved to your kitchen to try to find some way to cool off after opening every damn window in your place to hopefully get some kind of air circulation going.

That’s when you spotted it. 

The frozen margarita machine you had bought on an absinthe fueled online shopping spree and never gotten around to returning. It was like a little miracle right there in your kitchen, designed to help you cool off and get drunk so you could forget about how fucking hot it was while you did the week’s worth of chores you had been procrastinating.

You hummed happily when that first gulp of frozen tequila goodness slid down your throat, and maybe you shouldn’t have chugged the whole thing but who fucking cared, it was hot. Time flew by as you downed those things like it was your fucking job, scrubbing your pots and pans and singing little songs to yourself.

Music started drifting through your open windows but you barely registered it even as you started singing along because it was Queen and how could you not.

It was the third time you had filled that margarita machine and you were feeling fantastic, dancing around your kitchen as you continued cleaning your dishes. Whoever was playing music was still going strong and you began belting when they started doing Seven Seas of Rhye.

“You are mine, I possess you, I belong to you foreveeeEEER!”

“Hey, Y/N!”

Your badass high note devolved into a shriek and you turned to chuck the cup you were holding at the intruder on the fire escape, cursing when you saw it was Colin. He managed to duck out of the way at the last second with a muttered fuck and you sighed as you watched your mug sail over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Shea, that was my favorite mug!” You pouted, stamping your foot a little and taking another gulp of your margarita. “What the fuck are you doing on my fire escape?”

He gave you a stupid cocky grin as he watched to try to lean on one hand on your counter and almost go down when you missed it at the last second.

“Are you drunk, honey?” Fuck him for calling you honey, that wiley asshole. “We could hear you singing from the roof.”

“I’m just a little buzzed.” You hiccupped. “Who’s we?”

“My band.” He crawled into your apartment and caught you when you tripped over your own feet again, still grinning at you like an idiot. “The ones you were singing along with.”

“That was your band?” You had never realized how blue his eyes were. “You guys sound great!”

“Yeah, you sound pretty good yourself.” He grabbed the cup you were holding and gave it a sniff, coughing a little before he set it on the counter. “Maybe you should come hang out with us instead of drinking what I think is blended jet fuel and ice all by yourself.”

“If I’m gonna hang out with you guys I think I should bring a pitcher of margs.” He was really fucking pretty, had you noticed that before? “Don’t wanna be a bad hostess.”

���Oh, baby, you’re wasted.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear and you felt your chest flutter a little bit. “No more margs for you. Come sing with us while you sober up. No, no.” He pulled you back when you tried to crawl out the window and started dragging you towards your door. “Ladder doesn’t really seem like a good idea right now, let’s take the stairs.”

You tossed your head back as you laughed, slapping his chest while you leaned heavily on him and let him guide you through the hall and to the stairs to the roof. Those were some firm pecs, you were a little marvelled at the way your palm just bounced right off so you slapped it again.

“Wow.” It was like your hand was moving independently from your brain as you gave him a pretty brazen squeeze. “Your tits are fantastic, Colin.”

“Holy shit, Y/N!” He was laughing hysterically when he shoved the door to the roof open. “Your drunk game is on point sweetie. Guys, this is Y/N, the killer vocals you heard from downstairs. She’s a little tipsy.”

They introduced themselves and you promptly forgot all of their names, your hand trailing down Colin’s chest until you could press it against his abs. This was getting weird, it’s not like you hadn’t seen him naked before. But seeing and touching were apparently two very different things.

“We still doing Queen, boys?” You said, finally tearing your eyes away from Colin after poking him in the bellybutton and grinning when he made a noise like the Pillsbury doughboy. “Cos I’m good with whatever.”

“What about some Journey?” He slung his SG over his shoulder and watched you carefully as you grabbed the mike one of his bandmates was handing you. “You wanna sit down, hon?”

“Don’t call me hon, sweetheart.” You teased, giving him a wink and tapping the mike a couple of times. “I’ll be fine. Journey feels a little basic but ok. Faithfully or Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’?”

That grin he gave you should not have been affecting you like this, maybe you did have too many margaritas. The bassist started playing the opening riff to Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’ and your grin got even wider, your hips moving to the beat as you kept your eyes on Colin. You laughed happily when he joined in with the guitar part, joining in after the piano had done its thing and losing yourself in the music.

He could not take his eyes off of you, he was pretty sure you’d never been this fucking cheerful around him before. Not that you were especially grumpy or anything, or that your typical dry wit didn’t immediately endear you to him. But seeing you with that goofy grin as you sang every fucking Journey song they had in their roster until the sun set was not helping the already prodigious crush he had on you. 

Now the two of you were sitting on the couch he had dragged up there months ago and watching his bandmates pack up their gear, saying goodbye to each of them as they headed down the stairs and left you two to lean against each other and sigh happily. You had your legs flung over his lap as he plucked at his guitar strings lazily, kicking your feet slowly and leaning back on the sofa as you watched him closely and sipped on a bottle of water.

“You ever do any actual performing, honey?” He asked, his fingers running over your calf absentmindedly. “Cos with that voice you could probably line up some gigs.”

“Just karaoke.” You murmured. You were definitely sobering up now, but you were still hyper aware of his hands on your skin and it was giving you some feelings you weren’t totally sure about. “Lemme see that thing.”

“What?” He gave a little huff when you grabbed the neck of his guitar and pulled it into your lap. “Baby, do not tell me you play.”

“I mean, it’s been a little while, but I think I remember a couple chords.” You gave him another grin and his chest started to hurt.

“Jesus, a couple chords?” He laughed to cover the absolutely filthy sound he almost made when you started playing, it was like he had made you on a computer. “Honey, that’s Led Zeppelin.”

“Yeah, but it’s easy Zeppelin.” You teased, turning your body so you could lean against his chest and not missing the low rumble you felt when you tucked your head against his shoulder. “It’s Coda.”

“Uh-huh.” Being this close to you was doing something to him, he suddenly had the overwhelming urge to smell your hair. 

“Why haven’t we slept together, Col?” Fuck it, you might as well do this.

He choked on the water he was drinking, turning his face so he didn’t spit it all over you as you stopped your playing and grinned at him.

“I seem to remember giving it a good try when you moved in.” He managed to get himself under control and turned his face back to you. “But you said you had a rule about not fucking people who live in the same building as you. Something about not shitting where you eat.”

“That’s about sex with coworkers.” You said, scrunching your face up as you tried to remember what your exact justification had been.

“Which is what I told you.” He tried to scoot away from you but you followed after him. “To which you replied, ‘doesn’t matter, not gonna happen’.”

“Huh, that seems awful short-sighted of me.” You scooted closer again and this time he let you. “C’mon, we’ve fucked almost everyone else in this city, we’d have gotten to each other eventually anyways.”

“Jesus, what a romantic sentiment.” He was trying to focus real hard on his softeners, but they weren’t working with you squirming against him like that. “You really want to do this?”

“I mean, I think we’d enjoy it.” You set his guitar aside and turned so your chest was pressed to his. “It’s not like we’re gonna catch feels, or anything. Just gonna see what all the fuss is about.”

“Right.” Maybe this would get his little crush out of his system. “Let’s not do it on the roof, though.”

“God, no. My place?” You stood up and started heading towards the fire escape.

“Yeah, ok.” He watched you climb down to your apartment before sliding down the ladder after you like the damn frat boy he was.

As soon as he climbed in the window you were dragging him towards you, swallowing his tiny cry of surprise when you pulled his mouth to yours. His lips were unbelievably soft against your own, and when he opened up and stroked your tongue with his? 

Fuck.

“Shit, Colin.” You purred when he started trailing his lips down your throat. “I feel like maybe we should’ve done this sooner.”

“Yeah, maybe.” His voice was muffled as his mouth moved to your chest, one hand moving to hook under the neckline of your camisole and pulling on it until your breasts popped out. “Well fuck me. No wonder you know so much about fantastic tits.”

You laughed at that, arching into his face and grinning down at him as he buried his face between your tits and gazed at you through his lashes. Those stupid, long as all fuck lashes that were brushing against your skin as he mouthed at your soft curves. 

“Jesus, fuck.” You wound your fingers through his hair when he dragged his tongue over your nipple, tugging on it softly and guiding him further into your apartment. “God, you really know how to use that mouth of yours, sweetie.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t even know.” He teased, moving his face back to yours and lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he started carrying you towards your bedroom.  “You wanna find out, though?”

“You tease all the girls you fuck this much?” You nipped at his lips and grinned when he moaned into your mouth, reaching behind you to open the door to your bedroom. 

“Nah, that’s just for you, baby.” He cooed, giving you a quick peck on the lips before dropping you on the bed with a huff.

Every place his fingers touched sent a jolt of heat through your body straight to your core, your eyes never leaving his as he started kissing and nipping his way down your torso after pulling your cami over your head. He grinned against your thigh when you moaned after he yanked your shorts down your legs, sucking a soft bruise into your flesh before rubbing his face over your clothed core and inhaling deeply.

You throbbed under his lips as he pressed gentle kisses over the fabric that covered your mound, hooking your legs over his shoulders and trying to grind into him when he tugged at your panties with his teeth and let them snap back into place teasingly. His fingers skimmed up your legs until he could hook them under the band of your panties and drag them off you, sighing heavily when he settled back between your thighs and got a good look at you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He spread you apart with his fingers and flicked his tongue out to run over your slit softly, moaning when he finally tasted you. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” You ran your fingers through his hair and beamed at him, rolling your hips against his face when he sucked your pussy lips into his mouth with a low hum.

Colin chuckled into your cunt at that, pressing gentle kisses all over your soft folds before dragging his tongue over you in a heavy stripe. Your body reacted immediately when he reached your clit, your back arching off the bed and your legs curling around his neck as he repeated the same process but at a much slower pace. 

Two of his fingers slid inside you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and you keened, gripping his hair by the roots and tugging hard when he started stretching you open while his lips drove you wild. The rhythm of his suction and release matched the curling of his fingers inside you and made you want to scream, your free hand reaching above your head and digging hard into your pillow as your body tried to rise off the bed when he brought you right to the edge of your peak right away. 

“Col, Colin, oh fuck.” He felt like your thighs were gonna suffocate him but those sounds you were making for him had him past the point of caring about a silly thing like oxygen. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Your whole body seized against his face as you let out a gorgeous fluttering moan, soaking his lips and chin in your release as he hummed with satisfaction into your pussy. He sat up when you finally released him, removing his clothes in a rush as he watched you pant underneath him and run your tongue over your lips. God, you were fucking beautiful, he couldn’t believe he’d waited so long to do this.

Before you had a chance to say anything he was hooking your knee over his elbow and thrusting into you, sheathing himself to the hilt in one smooth motion and releasing his breath in a thin hiss when he felt your satiny walls flutter around him. 

“Ah, fuck, you feel amazing.” He ducked his face to catch your lips with his before pulling back with a groan. “Shit, I forgot a condom. Uh, I’m clean, just got tested last week.”

“God, you’re fine sweetie.” You brought a hand up to cup his jaw and ran a thumb over his cheek in a soothing gesture. “Also clean and I have an IUD, so we’re peachy. I am a little mad at you though.”

“Yeah, why?” He wasn’t too worried, you were still grinning at him as he started moving his hips slowly.

“Well, Jesus, fuck, you’re big.” You almost lost your train of thought when he tilted your hips just a bit and his cock hit you deep. “I usually like to reciprocate oral, sweetie. I barely even got a look at what you’re packing down there.”

“You’ve seen it before.” He groaned when you wrapped your free leg around his hips and rolled your body against his.

“Just glances though.” You gripped his biceps and dug your nails in, biting your lip as he continued dragging his length over every inch of you at an agonizing pace. “And never hard.”

“Honey, there’s no way I’m pulling out for you to take a good look so you’re gonna have to make due.” He teased, grinding against your clit and grinning when your eyes fluttered closed.

“Fine.” You huffed, frowning a little before winking at him. “We’re switching then.”

“What?”

You didn’t answer, just giving him a cocky grin and gripping his hips with your thighs. One quick move and he was under you, a small sound of surprise leaving his lips when you were suddenly straddling his hips and grinning down at him.

“Oh yeah, that’s better.” You placed one palm on the center of his chest and curled your fingers through his chest hair as you rose up on your knees before sinking down again nice and slow, loving the low groan you felt reverberate in his chest when you clenched around him. “Good for you, Col?”

“Yes, yeah, s’ good.” He was completely mesmerized by you, his eyes trailing over your body as you arched your back and continued to ride him. 

The way he was reacting to you was making it hard for you to focus on what you were doing, his eyes soft and relaxed on yours and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he slowly moved his hips to meet your own. You could’ve lost yourself in those eyes if you really wanted to.

Shit, none of that.

His fingers started trailing up your sides when he fucked up into you suddenly and he lost it at the way your tits bounced for him, sitting up with a whine and nuzzling into your chest before wrapping his lips around your nipple as he started bucking wildly.

“Shit, fuck, Colin.” He was hitting your cervix with each punch of his hips and it was taking all your self control to not pass out from how hard he was railing you, wrapping your legs around him and dragging your lips over his jaw. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come again.”

“Yeah? Good.” He cupped your jaw and brought your face back to his, tugging at your lips with his teeth while he gazed into your eyes. “I wanna watch your face while you come.”

You kept your eyes open and trained on his, worrying his bottom lip with your teeth and resting your forehead against his as you felt a warm coil gathering in the pit of your stomach. It was like you were falling into those lust blown pools as he took you apart, your lips crashing against his as the coil snapped and you gasped his name into his mouth. 

The feeling of your entire body fluttering around him was too much, and he followed you with a low growl. He muttered your name under his breath as he spilled his cum inside you, holding you close to his chest and rubbing his nose against yours.

You fell on top of him when he collapsed back against the bed, the two of you laughing breathlessly as you tangled your limbs and molded your lips together before pulling back and gazing at each other some more. Both of you lost yourselves for just a beat, your chests heaving against each other’s before disconnecting and rolling off the bed in two opposite directions as you did your best to compose yourselves.

“I’d say you definitely earned all those screams I’ve heard coming from your apartment, Shea.” You teased, trying your best to lighten the mood and not dwell on the desire you had to ask him to spend the night. 

“Yeah, well I’ve always thought so.” He was avoiding looking at you as much as possible, searching the room for his clothes and fighting the urge to pull you back into the bed and snuggle with you. “Have you seen my converse?”

“Yeah, here.” You shoved his shoes at him after pulling an oversized tee over your head. “Well, I’ve got work in the morning, so…”

“Right, I’ll, um, I’ll talk to you later, I guess.” He shuffled towards your front door and pulled it open before leaning back to look at you one more time. “You can join us for band practice any time, by the way.”

“That would be great.” That smile you were giving him made him feel like his heart was going to break. “I promise not to be sloppy drunk next time.”

“Aww, drunk Y/N was pretty fun, but ok.” He winked at you then left in a hurry, slamming the door behind him. 

You fell back on your bed and ran your hands over your face in frustration, hating yourself for coming up with this stupid idea because now all you wanted was to have breakfast with that beautiful idiot tomorrow after sleeping on top of his chest.

“Goddamn it.”

Colin grabbed himself a beer when he got back to his apartment and chugged it, sinking into one of his barstools and considering the fact that he was absolutely not over his crush after everything the two of you had just done.

“Shit.”

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[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes rather possessive over Spencer when she learns he’s been been with someone else since they hooked up four months ago. Category: SMUT (18+) Content Warnings: Language, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hand-on-neck (no choking), praise, degradation kink, possession kink, dirty talk Word Count: 7.1k (I didn’t mean for it to get this long I swear aldjfsdlfksk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 

MASTERLIST

NOTE: HERE IT IS!!! 🥰 Thank you all for showing so much love to Part 1, I seriously wasn’t expecting all the requests for more of the story, so it was fun coming up with ideas! I’m still not sure if I want to do 3 or 4 parts yet, but I’ll let you know soon! In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy reading this second installment! ❤

***

He's been a ghost in my head for four months.

Everywhere I went I could hear his voice, hear the way he whimpered out my name and how cries got higher and higher as I clenched around him. I felt the rough grip he held on my hips as I rode him, the pads of his fingertips leaving behind faint bruises that I currently wished I still had.

And more prominently, I saw his face. It was always in the back of my mind, burning into me with lust-drunk eyes and a pouty mouth in the shape of an O. It sizzled into my brain, the sound definitely sounding more like raindrops than fire, but I was more than okay with that.

Though, every time it rained, I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same— if he stood outside or watched from the safety of wherever he was and replayed that moment over and over again until he was aching to be in my presence once more.

I also had to wonder if he knew about the ring I'd left in his front seat.

Did he leave it in his car, perhaps in the glovebox or on a string that he tied around his mirror? Or did it fall somewhere between the seats? Maybe he found it and did what I never could, pawning it off for some happily-accepted cash while he laughed at how careless I was to take a stranger's virginity and then leave my expensive diamond ring behind like a fool.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the means to find out.

It's not like I could have wandered up to the FBI building and ask to meet with a Dr. Spencer Reid... Right? Because that as absurd. I'd only met the guy once, and he'd probably think I was crazy for trying to track him down.

It was a whole ordeal that I'd mulled over again and again, and I ultimately decided that it was ridiculous.

If anything I was happy to be rid of the ring. I could move on with my life, and maybe Spencer sold it for money or he's held on to it as a souvenir for a special night.

Win-win.

It didn't dull the small ache I felt for him, though. Every once in a while I found myself remembering how great that night was... I hadn't felt that way—sexy, confident, fun—in a long time, and as much as it sucked that he was getting picked on by some drunk idiots at a bar, I was glad it led me to him.

Some nights, when I was missing him significantly more than usual, I even went back to Waterson's in the event that I'd run into him again, hopefully under better circumstances.

Tonight was one of those nights.

This time I didn't have a ring to keep most of the men from hitting on me, but now that I was well and truly over my ex-husband, I was glad I didn't use that as an excuse to keep the ring around anymore. As annoying and painful as the drunken flirting was, I was way better equipped to handle it and truthfully somewhat relieved that I could get back to normal.

You know, save for the fact that I was only at Waterson's in the first place to maybe see some guy I hooked up with four months ago and still haven't stopped thinking about...

Because that was totally a normal thing to do.

I was on my second beer of the night when I felt a presence behind me. And even though I was pretty sure than I'd be able to tell if it was really Spencer, a part of me still buzzed thinking of the prospect of seeing him here again.

I turned around though, and was met with an entirely different person. I tried not to look disappointed, but it must have shown because the man who'd caught my attention gave a small laugh.

"I'm sorry, are you expecting someone?"

I liked to think that I had a good read on most people, especially when it came to men in bars. This man was someone I looked at for a few seconds and immediately knew that he wasn't looking to make me uncomfortable. He had come over to flirt with me, no doubt, but the difference here was that where most men would have gone straight into it, this man genuinely looked like he was willing to haul ass if I really was waiting for someone and didn't want his company.

That alone made me willing to entertain him a little, even if I was disappointed that he wasn't who I desperately wanted him to be. But it certainly helped that he was attractive.

The first word that came to mind was smooth. Even as I laughed back at the man and answered him, my eyes did some wandering of his figure and admired what I saw. A crisp, tight grey tee shirt that hugged some rather nice muscles, and brown skin that was just a few shades lighter than his eyes, which were kind and a little playful. His smile was stunning, sharing that same playfulness that his eyes held as he practically sparkled to life at my answer.

"Oh, no, I'm not... But I certainly wasn't expecting you..."

I made sure to smile at him, a little smirk that complimented the admiring eyes I was offering him and a little laugh that never failed to get me what I wanted.

He gently leaned into the bar, one of his hands coming to rest of the cool wooden surface. "I'm Derek."

"Y/N."

"Pretty name."

I don't know what made me so bold, but I nodded and shot him a wink. "Not as pretty as you."

We shared another laugh, and then I took a swig of my beer, finishing the last of it and then sliding towards him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"We just met and you're already stealing from me... That's my line."

"What can I say, I'm quick... Hey, Carla! Can I get two more for me and my friend here?"

The bartender—and my longtime friend—laughed a little, taking my empty bottle. "Sure thing."

The look she gave me right before turning away practically yelled, I thought your type was helpless skinny white guys who can barely look you in the eye without creaming themselves...

Yeah, well, you worked with what you were given. And besides, my type was practically anyone with just a shred of decency.

Real high bar, huh?

But after Patrick, I couldn't complain. Derek seemed like the type of guy who would flirt with you at any given chance, but respected your boundaries all the same. Unfortunately that was hard to find nowadays, especially in bars like Waterson's.

So, yeah, he wasn't the man I was naively wishing to see here tonight, but he was into me, he was decent from what I could tell, and he was hot.

So we had a drink and spent a good twenty minutes chatting it up. Since it was my third beer of the night, I was accumulating a pretty steady buzz, and the longer I talked with Derek the more I opened up a little. I found myself leaning into him and finding excuses to lightly touch his arm, but I kept noticing that he was glancing down at his watch occasionally.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked, playfully.

"Right, uh... Yeah, I was supposed to be meeting a friend here. He's usually early, but I think we got our times mixed up again..."

"Again, huh? You two aren't very good coordinators?"

Derek laughed, the sound making me feel all warm. "Well, for FBI agents you'd think we'd be better at it."

"O—Oh," I said, my heart stopping for a beat. Had I heard that right? Was I more tipsy than I thought? "FBI?"

"You seem stunned," he said with another laugh. "What, you're not a criminal, are you? Do I have to take you in?"

I laughed, albeit nervously, but decided that this all had to be pure coincidence. If I didn't, I would have gone insane. Even still, it was difficult for me to sit here and openly flirt with this man when I knew he just confessed to having the same profession as the literal man of my dreams— and as of late that also included daydreams.

In fact, I was positive that's what it was when I saw Spencer approach us— a daydream.

Derek was calling my name, I knew that much, but I couldn't do anything but look over his shoulder where Spencer's ghost practically froze in place when he spotted me.

"Y/N?"

That wasn't Derek's voice. Spencer's mouth moved in time with the calling of my name, and it even sounded like him. I blinked rapidly, hoping that I could snap out of it and excuse myself for the rest of the night, so I could go home and sleep it off.

But even when I finished blinking, expecting Spencer's figure to be gone, he was still there.

At this point Derek had turned around, and what he said next snapped me out of it pretty damn good.

"Reid? You know her?"

"You're real," I said, speaking for the first time in a while. My throat felt dry, and my heart came alive at the sight of him.

Spencer stared at me, his eyes softening after I spoke to him. I saw his lips twitch into a shy smile before his hand came up in an equally shy wave. "Y—Yeah, I'm real." What followed was a huffed laugh that cemented his nervousness at seeing me again for the first time in four months, and it was the most refreshing thing I'd heard in a while.

"Oh my God," I said, a smile of my own starting to creep up.

I'd completely forgotten about Derek being there until he spoke up, snapping us out of our reunion, his voice conveying every range of confusion.

"What the hell is this?"

***

I knew there was always a minor chance that I'd run into her again, but it still rendered me utterly still and practically useless when I spotted her across the bar with Derek.

She was just... there. After months of debating whether or not I should send her a letter with the ring mailed back or stopping by to see her, or even using Garcia's help to find where she might have been so I could 'surprise' running into her... It happened to chance that I didn't need any of that at all. Because she was really there.

And she was flirting with Derek.

I'd have been lying if I said that didn't really bother me, but truthfully I'd always felt a bit insecure around him, mostly when it came to being surrounded by women who were most likely fawning over him instead of me.

Not that I particularly wanted or even needed them to fawn over me in the first place... It was just... Telling.

And it's not like I knew or thought I wasn't at least somewhat attractive. But seeing the one and only woman who'd ever made me feel very good about all of that for probably the first time in my whole life openly flirting with my best friend? It stung. It felt like now that she'd seen me and him in the same place, she'd decide that she'd made a mistake before and that she'd be better off with someone else— someone who was stronger and more skilled and probably easier to look at.

Even when the three of us sat at a booth and Y/N decided to sit next to me, her proximity dizzying after all this time apart, the first thought that came to my mind was, She doesn't want to see me. She'd much rather sit across from Derek so she can look at him instead.

I was starting to think maybe I should have stuck to mailing her a letter...

"So... Are you gonna tell me how you two know each other?" Derek asked, leaning back and easily amused.

Y/N seemed to be amused by all of this, too, because she answered immediately, a tone in her voice that I'd only dreamed about for four months and nine days straight.

"Oh, we were engaged."

If I didn't know any better, I would have thought Derek's eyebrows were going to fly straight off his head. "Engaged? Like... Engaged?"

"I—It's not what you think," I jumped in, suddenly a little embarrassed. "Not really engaged, but... Y/N pretended to be my fiancée once... There were, um... There were these guys who wouldn't leave me alone and she came over and told them off."

I hoped he wouldn't piece it together, but it was inevitable, and the look of realization that crossed his features made me feel extra warm with embarrassment.

"Oh... Is she the reason why you actually said yes to that date last month?"

Y/N turned to me, an eyebrow raised. "A date? Because of me? I don't... I don't follow..."

I was going to explain, but Derek beat me to it.

"I've always tried to set Pretty Boy here up for a date, but he's always said no, and then out of the blue I ask him and he agrees. Which was a shock in its own. I knew something was up, something had to have given him the confidence to go on the date... And all along its been you, hasn't it?"

"Well, I... I don't know, I guess so?"

They both looked at me then, and I stared down at my hands, unwilling to look either of them in the eye. "Y—Yeah... I don't know, I guess Y/N just... helped me see something in myself I hadn't seen before."

I half expected them to think it was silly, but Y/N's hand dropped down onto my knee and I stared at it for a moment before flitting my eyes up to meet her gaze. It was soft, and a small smile grazed her pretty features.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm so glad I could do that for you... How was the date?"

"O—Oh, it... It was fine. Not... I'm not seeing her anymore, but it wasn't bad... Just, um... There wasn't much of a connection, that's all."

In simpler words, She wasn't you.

But I couldn't tell her that, not when she was staring at me again with those sparkling eyes and her hand burning a hole through my pants with her electrifying touch, and most certainly not with Derek sitting right in front of us.

"Hey, whether it worked out or not, whatever you did to get him out there, it must have been one hell of a job," he said as if he'd been reading my thoughts.

Y/N gave me a knowing look, though, and suddenly I was transported to my car, feeling her hand explore my body as she showered me with filthy words and names that set me alight and cemented something about myself that I'd never known. Since then I had dreams about her, telling me how much of a 'good little whore' I was for her, and I always woke up from those dreams clutching her ring around my finger.

"Well, like I said, I'm glad I could help. Your boy here is one in a million."

It was awkward. This was all very extremely awkward. And even though I knew that, I still couldn't bring myself to stop it. I couldn't bring myself to stop staring at Y/N, soaking her all up like she was going to leave again at any given second. I couldn't stop thinking about her, our predicament, what we did and what I discovered about myself back then...

God, I was talking like we hadn't seen each other in years. It was only four months and yet I was acting like she'd left me alone after years of being together. This was ridiculous, right?

Thankfully Derek's phone rang, snapping us all out of the bubble of silence we'd been in for what seemed like forever.

"Uh, I'm gonna... get this. Be back in a few."

I expected Y/N to drop whatever act it was she had going on with me after he left the table, but her hand remained firmly on my knee. And then she moved a little closer, turning to me completely and tilting her head with a smile that only meant mischief.

"So... Looks like we have some catching up to do..."

***

I was practically giddy when Derek excused himself for a "Garcia Emergency". Though, I was concerned until he assured us that it wasn't anything bad, and by the look on his face as he quickly talked things over With Spencer, I got the feeling he was expecting his friend to 'have some fun' tonight. And that's what truly made me giddy.

We sat close to each other again, a few drinks between us and only a few booths away from the one we sat in the first time we met. If it weren't for the rock missing from my finger, I would have been convinced we'd actually transported back to that exact moment.

"You getting Deja vu, Doctor?" I asked with a smile, watching as he swallowed.

"Y—Yeah, kinda. It's great seeing you again, I... I really didn't think I would."

I laughed. "You know where I live, and you're an FBI agent... I'm pretty sure you could have saw me again if you wanted to."

"Well... Yeah, but I didn't want to be creepy or anything..."

"Trust me... If you randomly showed up at my door, I'd be anything but creeped out. I missed you..."

Spencer looked up at me for a moment, his eyes shifting before he seemed to relax. "You... did?"

"Of course... I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met. And I hope that's not creepy," I added in a laugh.

"No, not at all," he reassured with a nervous laugh of his own. "Actually, um... I've been thinking about you a lot, too..."

"Even on your date?"

I'd only meant it as a little joke, maybe another conversation starter, but at the mention he seemed... embarrassed.

"Oh, no, that was... That wasn't really... I—I only really did it to get Derek off my back, it—"

I rested a hand on his arm and smiled gently. "Hey, it's alright... I didn't really mean anything by that, I'm just... I meant it before, I'm really glad you did it. I know you said it didn't really work out, but did you have some fun at least?"

He laughed again, but this time there was hardly any humor in it. "Well, she wasn't you..."

I smiled a bit, but immediately following his words was a wide-eyed terror and instant regret. "Oh, I didn't... I'm sorry, I—"

"So, you did think about me on your date, huh?"

He froze then, presumably at the low, seductive drawl I blanketed over my words. His mouth slightly hung open, tongue flittering behind teeth as he tried to find the right words.

I smiled at him, and then he settled on, "Yeah. I did."

"It's not very polite to think of other girls while you're on a date, you know..." I made sure to let him know I was only teasing, and that I just wanted to know what his reaction would be.

Still, he surprised me when he said, "It's not my fault you're impossible to forget..."

He flashed me a smile then, and my stomach twisted deliciously at the little dash of confidence he'd grown in the past minute.

Maybe I could bring more out of him...

"Okay, fair... But it is your fault that you didn't come find me."

"Also fair... But... You're here now..."

Spencer inched closer to me, and I smiled, taking my bottom lip gently between my teeth before leaning in, too. "How about that..."

Our lips brushed for a second, so gentle it was like being tickled by a feather, and then he spoke again, his breath hot on my mouth. "I've... dreamt about seeing you again for so long now... Kissing you..."

"Me, too," I responded, bringing a hand down to graze the inside of his thigh. "Guess it's a good thing I'm a firm believer that dreams come true."

"Yeah," is all he said before he finally took the initiative to finally kiss me.

I sighed, melting into his touch and tightening the grip I had on his leg. Meanwhile his hands rested at my forearms, fingers dancing experimentally over my skin and making me tingle in their wake. And once I parted my lips, he took his shot and gently brought his tongue out to meet mine in a collision that quite frankly made me throb.

He'd been a decent kisser before, but... It's obvious he's had a little practice since then. Not that I'd have minded either way, but damn if this newfound experience didn't give me the most sinful idea.

I felt him whine as I pulled away, and that made everything even better.

"You wanna get out of here?" I said in the cheesiest way possible. But he didn't seem to mind.

In fact, he nodded rapidly and took a quick drink of his beer before following me out of the booth and towards the door.

***

Leading Spencer up and through the doorway of my house was probably the most electrifying 'date' experience I've had... well, ever. I'd been excited to sleep with people, sure, but with Spencer I found something greater. I wasn't entirely sure what that was, yet, but it was definitely good.

He reiterated that thought nicely once the door was closed and his hands were on my face, bringing my mouth to his again while I dropped by keys and haphazardly threw my phone and wallet on the side-table next to us in favor of gripping his shirt.

Just through his kisses I could tell how much he'd longed for this moment. I know he told me, and I'd certainly understood the feeling, but when it came down to actually acting it out in the flesh, I was much more in favor of that method of communication.

I gladly accepted his wordless confessions, through every groan and gentle graze of his tongue that he offered to me. And in return I gave him sharp tugs of his shirt and hair, conveying my urgency and the need to be closer to him.

When my legs started moving, his did, too, and we reluctantly pulled apart in favor of not tripping up the hard wooden staircase on the way to my bedroom. Though, I was thankful he was in just as much of a rush as I was, because otherwise I probably would have gotten embarrassed.

And that didn't happen easily.

I fumbled for the light switch once the door shut and our mouths connected once again, and I could have sworn it was like something out of a trashy TV show. The thought almost made me laugh, but I held it in in favor of moaning when Spencer lowered his hands to my ass and squeezed, pulling us closer together. I finally hit the light switch and then flow both of my arms to wrap around his neck and draw him even closer.

He was everywhere all at once, and it fueled me. I'd come to miss physical human interaction, but I hadn't realized how badly I craved it until he was right there, taking up all of my personal space and aiding me in creating this perfect recipe of frantic, glorious electricity.

It was going to kill me, and I would have gladly let it.

I experimentally rolled my hips forward and felt him gasp into me, and it wasn't long before he started growing hard.

Good... Now I could set the plan in motion.

"Remember what you told me?" I asked breathlessly before our heads switched sides and leaned in for more kisses.

In between them, he returned, "When?"

"The first time we met..." I trailed my lips down the column of his throat as I continued. "When you said you edged yourself..."

"O—Oh... Yeah, I remember."

"Mmm," I hummed, sucking a mark into his neck for the time being. As I did it, the grip he held on my ass tightened a bit, and I laughed lightly over his skin, slowly licking my way up to his ear. "I wanna see..."

The trembling he provided under my influence was a good sign. And then another came when he whispered. "Y—You want to see... me? Touching myself?"

"Mhmm..." I planted kisses all along his jaw before pulling back to look him in the eye, making sure he knew I was serious when I told him, "But only if that's okay with you."

He didn't even take a second to think, nodding rapidly once more and giving me a flash of a smile. "It's okay."

I hummed happily, leaning forward to give him one huge kiss, long and hard, before pulling away from him completely and nodding towards the bed. "Clothes off..."

Our hands got to work as soon as the words left my mouth.

And it wasn't until my shirt was on the ground and Spencer's eyes remained glued to my chest with trembling hands that I realized, even though we'd slept together before, our clothes had never actually come off. Tonight we were completely baring ourselves to each other, and that was somehow more intimate than the idea of taking his virginity was.

I reached out and grabbed his shirt, gently assisting him in removing it, and it must have snapped him out of wherever he'd gotten trapped because he shook his head and let out a nervous laugh, averting his eyes from me and staring at the ground.

"S–Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for," I reassured, throwing his shirt to the ground next to mine and bringing his hands to rest on my bare stomach, slowly sliding them up. "I like when you look at me..."

His eyes reached mine once again, breath hitching as I guided his hands to cup my breasts over the bra. "Well, I... I like looking at you."

I kissed him again, hoping to bring forth some familiarity to our current routine, and it worked like a charm. Our movements were slow and steady, each article of clothing joining the floor one by one until we were down to nothing but my underwear.

I led him to the bed then, breaking us apart and making him sit. Now that I was taller than him, I gripped his chin in my hand and tilted his head up to look at me.

"Lay back for me?"

He scooted further along the bed until finally he leaned back, his head resting nicely on my pillows. I climbed up after him, kneeling at his feet and bringing a hand down trace lines along the inside of his thigh. Meanwhile I looked him up and down, finally getting a decent look at his full, bare form.

"Ohh, so pretty... And I bet you're even prettier when you're touching yourself... You wanna start?"

He reached out for his dick in answer, wrapping a delicate hand around it and slowly stroking up and down as he looked up at me with the stars in his eyes. "Like this?"

"However you normally do it, baby. Just relax. Make yourself feel good..."

After a slight nod, his hand picked up a little speed. He swiped his thumb over the tip to gather some precum for lubrication, but as hot as that was, I had a better idea.

"Here, let me help," I offered with a smile, leaning down and bracing my hands on his knees. I let spit gather on the end of my tongue before allowing it to drip down and land right on the tip of his cock. The sound he let out, broken and dripping with want, sent a jolt of electricity through my blood, only amplified by how wet he sounded once he started moving his hand again.

I let my eyes roam all over, taking in every heave of his chest, the veins in his arm and hand as he worked himself, the soft fluttering of his eyes as he lost himself in the moment... At the risk of sounding absolutely cheesy, it truly was a magical sight. I felt entirely lucky that I got to see him again at all, and now like this, bare and vulnerable and exuding lust while I was left to my own devices.

All that to say, I hadn't realized I was touching myself as well, until a whimper came from my mouth, my clit gently throbbing with stimulation at the hands of... well, my hand.

Upon seeing me, Spencer let out a whine of his own, picking up speed with his hand and throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"Y/N..."

He wasn't addressing me, wasn't asking me anything at all... My name on his lips was more of a declaration, like some type of chant, a string of letters and syllables formed specifically to bring him closer to the edge he knew he'd have to resist falling from.

"You getting there, baby?"

"U—Uh huh..."

"You better hold it," I drawled lowly, bringing myself into the more strict persona I wanted to bring out tonight, given that's still something he was into. "Just like you promised."

After a few more hard strokes of his hand, Spencer leg to quickly, bringing his hand to rest on his chest as his mouth let out the most delicious whines and grunts of determination to keep it all in. Without the stimulation, I noticed his dick slightly twitching over his stomach, glistening and  hard...

Fuck, if it wasn't the hottest fucking thing I'd ever experienced with my own eyes and ears...

I pulled my hand out of my underwear, too, still a little shocked that I hadn't realized before that I was doing it to myself and a little turned on at the fact that it had that big of an effect on him.

"I—I would have been able to go longer, but... But you were there, and you were... And I only ever have you in my head, not right in front of me..."

It was obvious that he was probably afraid he'd let me down somehow, and that was definitely not the case. So I leaned down and dragged my hands over his lower stomach, feeling inch of skin while my mouth came down to press featherlight kisses to the base of his dick. "Spence, that was hot as fuck... You really think of me when you do that?"

"Mhm," is all he offered, currently reveling in the way my tongue darted out to explore the lines of his cock.

"I think of you, too," I admitted, pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his tip. "When I touch myself... I think about how pretty you were the first time I called you a slut... Tell me, baby, you still like that?"

"God, Y/N, yes..."

I sucked gently on his tip now, watching as he watched me, his bottom lip occupied between his teeth and his eyes on the brink of closing.

He was getting close again. So I stopped, pulling off of him with a soft pop and smiling as I crawled up his body and planted a kiss to his cheek. My legs straddled his hips, and I got close to his ear.

"Tell me, what about this... other girl you went on a date with... Did you sleep with her?"

"Um... Y—yes..."

"I'm willing to bet she didn't make you feel half as good as I do..."

"She didn't..."

I smiled against his jaw, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair. "Was she mean to you? Did she make you her dirty little whore?"

I could feel him let out a trembling breath as he answered, "No."

"That's right," I said softly, right before switching gears and tugging on his hair, pulling back to look in his eyes. "Because you're my dirty little whore."

His cock twitched along my ass at my words, and it made me smile. But before I could speak again, he did it first.

"I'm all yours, Y/N... No one else's..."

I couldn't help it then. His words, our position, the needy look in his eyes as he confessed this to me... All of it was enough to make me snap.

So I leaned in and kissed him, hard. My hands tangled in his hair while his flew to my waist, sliding down to play with the hem of my underwear as his tongue slipped into my mouth and against my own with ease. I swallowed each whine with the greatest pleasure, my hips involuntarily grinding down and spreading the evidence of my arousal along the fabric of my panties. I wondered then if he could feel how wet I was, how much I wanted him.

I didn't have to wonder for long though, because he slipped one of his hands around front and dipped into said fabric, finding how wet I was and groaning into my mouth at the feel of it.

"You've been dying to get another try at this pussy, haven't you?" I whispered into his mouth.

Unsurprisingly, I was met with a whine in return. "Uh huh... I missed you so much..."

I ground down into his hand, nipping at his lips a little before giving my next demand.

"Then prove it."

Rather than fingering me like I expected him to, Spencer rolled over and straddled my legs, tearing my panties down and leaving me with a smile.

"I love the confidence you've grown, baby boy... Proves how dedicated you are... to being the best little slut you can be."

"Yes, Y/N," he responded, leaning down and kissing the inside of my thigh. "I wanna be good for you... Let me show you, please..."

"Show me..."

His tongue came in contact with my pussy, and it immediately sent my head flying back into the pillows, a low whine escaping my throat. He flicked it over my clit expertly a few times before going down and licking a broad strip up the entire area. Vibrations flittered along his path through his groans, and just hearing how much he enjoyed it had me clenching the sheets for stability.

"Ohh, what a good boy," I praised, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair back. "Who's my good little whore?"

He grumbled into me, but I tugged at his hair.

"Say it."

He pulled away briefly then, still in contact with my pussy as he breathed out, "I'm your good little whore..." And then he promptly got back to work, devouring me with a hungry precision that made me laugh.

"Needy, too, I see... So desperate for that cunt..."

"Yes, " I heard him mumble into me. He repeated it a few more times, chanting it as his tongue flicked through me and tasted every last drop of my impending orgasm.

I sat up a little and held his head to me, his tongue moving at a quicker, more relentless pace. My stomach started to twist and my legs clenched, holding Spencer firmly between my legs as my hips rolled forward and met his every movement. Moans fell sweetly off my lips with every second, getting higher and higher until I finally held myself still and let the high take over. His tongue drew out one of the sharpest orgasms I'd ever had, the fervor he delivered making me see stars for a solid twenty to thirty seconds before it finally subsided and my muscles started to relax.

"Fuck," I breathed, almost whining when he removed his mouth from me and just kneeled there, studying my form as I tried to catch my breath. "Get up here," I asked more than demanded, though it might have been hard to tell what with my head spinning.

Spencer climbed over my body and I pulled his face down into a warm, wet kiss that had me tasting myself and growing wet again at the taste. I pulled away then, looking into his eyes and playing with his hair.

"I can't believe you didn't come see me sooner... Depriving me of that pretty fucking mouth..."

He kissed me again briefly, whining into my mouth before I continued. "But no... You were busy going on dates..."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said, kissing my cheek softly, over and over as his lips made their way down to my neck. "I'm so sorry, I... I wanted to see you, I just..."

"I know, I know," I cooed, closing my eyes and relishing in the feel of his lips on my skin. "But tonight you're gonna make up for lost time, got it?"

"Yes... Yes, I'll do whatever you want..."

I hummed, bringing his head back up to meet his gaze, and my thumb stroked over his bottom lip. "I want you to put that pretty cock to good use and fuck me like the desperate little slut I know you are..."

I kissed him then, gasping out once he shifted his hips and entered me slowly— I knew he was going to get to it quickly, but I guess I'd underestimated his need to please me.

The sentiment had me curling with want, more of it coming when he bottomed out inside me and trembled. Really, I could feel him shaking as he started to pull out and then back in, setting a steady pace that would surely become more erratic once I started talking to him again.

"Shit..." Spencer cursed, shifting up on his arms for more leverage as he steadily drilled into me. "I m—missed this... Missed you..."

"I know, baby, I know... I missed you, too... And you know what else?"

I drifted one of my hands down in between us, spreading out my fingers so that his cock fit nicely between them as he fucked me. The added friction of my fingers had him whining out, dropping his head down so that his ear was right by my mouth.

I whispered. "So did my pussy... So you better fuck her good..."

The sudden brutal velocity in which he slammed his hips against mine felt like a strike of lightning, and the loud groan he let out against my neck was the thunder. Everything shifted then, Spencer lifting himself up and holding onto my legs as he drilled into me at full force, his body glistening with exertion and my own succumbing to his wind.

"Yeah, that's it," I cooed through a laugh of pure pride. "That's a good fucking whore... Giving me that cock like I own it..."

"Y—You... do," he stuttered through a broken whine. He was getting close again, and I knew just the thing to do the trick.

I reached my hand up to hold his neck, not applying any pressure, but just holding as I forced his eyes down to look at me. "That's right... That slutty cock is mine... Now give it to me..."

The end of my sentence was punctuated with a sharp cry out as another orgasm tore through me. I shouted Spencer's name into the abyss as He fucked me through it and started twitching inside me, signaling his end as well. And the added warmth from his cum as it coated my insides well and truly marked me as his, despite the words we'd just exchanged.

I belonged to him just as much as he did to me, and I wondered if he knew that. If he knew just how much he inhabited my every thought.

I wanted him to know that I was practically infatuated with him.

But that conversation could wait until after we were... settled down.

He was still inside me as he slumped forward, laying his head on my chest and rubbing lines into my forearm.

"You okay?" I asked gently, combing through his hair with my fingers.

"Most definitely... Just... tired."

I smiled, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You're welcome to stay here for the night..."

He was silent for a long while, almost so long that I thought he'd actually fallen asleep. But then he said, "Right here? With you?" and my heart soared.

"Of course."

Truthfully, I'd have let him stay forever.

But when I opened my eyes the next morning, the other side of the bed was cold, and his body was nowhere to be found.

***

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry for leaving you alone last week. I know you must be a little hurt and confused, but if you aren't, then just forget I ever said anything.

Nonetheless, I regretted leaving you behind last time without at the very least sending you a letter, so I hope this one finds you well. After all, you have shown me experiences I never could have imagined enjoying as much as I did, so I should thank you for that.

But that's not all that this letter is for.

I also want to invite you out to dinner some time. I know this might be a little unconventional, but given how we met and also how we reunited, I figured this would be a fun, romantic way to ask you out. I understand if you don't feel that way given that I've more or less abandoned you twice now, but I promise it was all for good reason.

If you'd like to talk more, about anything I've disclosed in this letter, I've attached my phone number below, otherwise I'd love to hear back from you. I know this sounds strange, but I've been dying to know what your handwriting looks like. I bet it's pretty, like you.

Once again, I am truly sorry for leaving you behind without a word, but I want a chance to make it up to you. Please say you'll reach out. Otherwise, I know where to find you if you'd rather I make some cheesy romantic comedy—esque gesture of affection that either makes you fall in love with me or hate me.

Yours, Spencer Reid

***

PERMANENT TAGLIST:  @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @g0lden-cth @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @big-galaxy-chaos

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get to it!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut

[teenyweenynightghost]

Haii!! I absolutely adore your writing and was wondering if you would be up to write something comforting with Ethan where reader is having the period from hell? Thank you ❤

Oh ho ho this should be fun

Y/n was sleeping over at Ethan’s for the first time. She had feelings for him for god knows how long, and the night he asked her out was probably the happiest she had ever been.

Their date had been unbelievable. Y/n felt as if time stopped and she was the only person on Earth along with Ethan, as cheesy as that may sound

When it started raining, they both hurried to his car and drove quickly to his place.

“God, I didn’t think the night would end like this.” Y/n chuckled, draining her hair in Ethan’s bathtub, while he was brushing his teeth next to her.

“You can sleep in one of my shirts.” Ethan mumbled, almost choking on the tooth paste

“What?”

“I said” he spit out all the paste and rinsed his mouth “you can sleep in one of my shirts.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a bit and she blushed a bit at his suggestion, before nodding sheepishly and putting her hair in a bun.

Ethan chuckled and muttered a few words Y/n didn’t quite catch, before leaving the room.

In a few moments, he came back with a large t-shirt. It was burgundy and had a logo in the middle. Ethan gave it to Y/n and left her alone to change

That night she had fallen asleep in his warm embrace, listening to the rain drops hit the windows

She felt as if it was a dream come true, and the only thought on her mind was Ethan

Luckily for her, Ethan felt the exact same way

He held her close all night, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, and dreamed of her

Ethan woke up to a slap. He opened his eyes grumpily and looked for the source of pain, only to see Y/n turned away from him, in that position all girls sleep in; the one where they have a leg up and they’re on their stomach

That’s when he saw that Y/n had started her period

There was a large, red stain seeping through her underwear and another few spots on the bedding

Damn, he shouldn’t have put on white ones

Stretching a bit and getting out of bed, he started to think about what he could do.

He didn’t know how much Y/n trusted him or how she would react to this, so the two smartest choices that he had were to either wake her up and tell her what happened, or prepare everything for when se would wake up

Eventually, he decided going for the latter.

Heading to the living room and grabbing his keys , he got in the car and drove to the nearest pharmacy around.

The man was walking down the unbearably white aisles of the pharmacy, looking for some ibuprofen and tampons

He really didn’t know what type Y/n used, and he wasn’t about to be like that dude on TikTok who asked his girlfriend what size pussy she was, so he took 4 types

Maybe different colors would mean something…or maybe scent?

He made a mental reminder to ask Y/n if they had any flavors

After searching forever, he ended up having a kilogram of pads, three types of sheet masks and a new lotion, but no pain medication

They must have been hidden

Eventually giving up, he went to the cashier and placed all the products on the register

“Tough times with the lady?” The woman asked, sending him an all-too knowing smirk

“I hope not. Speaking of which, do you happen to have any pain medication?”

Ethan left the store smirking, having received a 20% discount for being “so cute”, and he also got a small chapstick as a gift

His next stop was the grocery shop

He already knew what he needed, so the trip would be easy; Twix, KitKat, Puffy Cheetos, Aloe Drink, and A LOT of Chocolate milk

It didn’t take long for him to find everything, so he wondered around the shop for a little longer, picking up a few more things

Y/n was startled awake by some people screaming outside

She jumped out of bed and hurried to the window, only to see that they were a group of friends who were just pranking one another

She groaned and pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling a painful hotness around the area

Looking back at the bed, her heart stopped in her chest as she saw that there was a trail of blood behind her

Oh gods, her period came in the worst moment possible. Did Ethan see? Did he run away out of disgust?

She paced around the room nervously, thinking of what to do, yet ignoring the sound of running water coming from the bathroom

She shrieked when she heard a knock on the door and tried to hide the bloodied sheets as well as she could.

“Cara mia, are you awake?” Ethan’s soft voice was muffled by the door, which only made Y/n feel worse.

“No?”

She heard Ethan chuckle before seeing him enter the room. He seemed to have a reassuring look on his face, but Y/n could tell there was some pity in there too.

“Wanna come with me?” He asked her softly, taking her silky hand in his and leading her to the bathroom before she could answer

Y/n watched as he opened the door to the bathroom and led her inside. The shower was running and there were some clothes on the counter

“Get in the shower. I’ll take care of everything else.” He said, looking at Y/n so softly that her heart exploded and she burst into a fit of tears

His armed were around her in a second, comforting her as best as he could, but he truly did not know the reason why she was crying

“Baby, is everything all right? Why are you crying?” He asked her, worry written all over his face.

“Im sorry…I’m just” she sniffled a bit, shedding a few more tears, “no one ever took care of me when I was on my period and you’re being so fucking sweet and I ruined your sheets and everything is wrong and my stomach hurts and FUCK why did It have to come now we could have-“

“Woah, woah, woah, take a deep breath, dolcezza. Like that, just relax.” He interrupted her ramblings, wiping the tears off her face.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about the sheets. I’ll clean them later. We can just stay in bed all day and relax. How does that sound?”

Y/n nodded slightly against his shoulder, pulling herself away and wiping her face.

“Okay.” Her voice was still raspy, and she looked at the shower. At that moment, washing her entire body felt like an unbelievably long and exhausting process. She slumped her shoulders at the thought of it and puffed.

“Let me wash you. It’ll go by quicker.”

Y/n nodded and started taking her clothes off, too exhausted to care about Ethan’s red face. Even though he had offered, he couldn’t help but think about other circumstances in which he would get in a shower with Y/n.

Regardless, it was not the time for such things.

Once she was inside, he grabbed the shampoo and squirted some in his hand, thinking of a way to lather it on Y/n without getting wet.

“Now how are you gonna do that without ending up in the shower too, Mr Edgar?” Y/n teased, letting her head fall back as the warm water glided down her body.

While trying to find a solution, Ethan’s gaze fell on the floor, which was now filled with blood.

“Y/n are you alright?” His tone instantly changed, now being extremely worried about how much blood came out of her.

“Yeah. Why?” She followed his gaze to the ground, seeing what he was staring at. She let out a low laugh before grabbing the bottle from Ethan.

“It’s creepy, I know. You don’t have to wash me.”

“No. I said I would help and I want to. Do you mind if I join in?” He asked sheepishly, concerned about crossing any boundaries with the girl.

“Whatever floats your boat.”

The man nodded, getting out and taking his clothes off. He placed them neatly next to Y/n’s, then got back in the shower.

Y/n was facing the wall, so Ethan pressed a soft kiss to her neck from behind her.

“I bought some goodies too.”

Y/n just hummed in response, leaning against Ethan. His hands instinctively went to her shoulders and started massaging them, earning a few whimpers from Y/n

“I can give you a massage later…”

“Absolutely.”

They both chuckled a bit, before Ethan got to actually cleaning Y/n. He softly lathered the soap all over her body, letting the water wash away the bubbles.

“Okay…I’m gonna leave you alone now, considering that I don’t know how to put on a tampon.”

“Alright.” Y/n responded, blushing slightly from all the contact. She heard Ethan take a towel and dry himself off, before getting dressed and leaving.

Ethan was in the kitchen, his phone in front of him as he sat prompted against the counter

Now close your eyes, and with a deep breath, release all the pent up frustration inside of you

“Um, Ethan? You said you had food?”

The brunette jumped up and hurried to close his phone, blushing furiously as he turned towards Y/n.

“Yes, right it’s over th-“

“Were you meditating?”

“Maybe.”

“You were.” (The bitch was so horny he had to reset his mind)

“You said you wanted food.” He finally managed to switch the topic, as Y/n’s eyes lit up.

“Gimmie.” She stretched out her arms and closed her hands repetitively, beckoning for Ethan to give her the snacks.

“Alright, alright. I’ll grab a few more things and come. Just go in the bathroom and get in bed.”

Y/n pouted, but eventually followed Ethan’s instructions. She was surprised to see that he had changed the sheets and lit up a few candles. She smiled to herself before cuddling up under the blankets.

Soon enough, Ethan entered the room with some snacks and drinks, a hot pouch and some medication.

“Here is some ibuprofen, if you have cramps, and a hot pouch.”

Y/n could have moaned in pleasure when she placed the hot object on her stomach, relieving a lot of the pain.

She gulped down the pills, cuddling into Ethan, who had an arm wrapped around her and another one massaging her butt.

He nuzzled into her neck, smiling a bit and breathing in her chocolatey scent.

“Squishy.” He joked, squeezing her butt, which made Y/n erupt in a mess of giggles.

She leaned over and grabbed a cereal bar, unwrapping it smoothly before shoving it down her throat.

“Thank you so much Ethan. I really don’t know how to tell you…no one has ever done this for me before.” She whispered, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger.

“I’ll always be here when you need me. Now you just need to sleep.”

“Okay…”

A/n: so i know this isn’t particularly a head canon, but the only way I can write is if my brain thinks im writing something short with bullet points, even though it would be a normal piece If I were to remove them😂

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @victoriadeangeliswifey @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @electra-phoebe

#maneskin #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #damiano david #thomas raggi #måneskin #maneskin fic #ethan x reader #fluffy

[blackenedwhite97]

Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]

Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...

Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.

This story includes a Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)

Y/N --- 4:06pm

Hey can my roomates come to dinner?

DAD --- 4:06

You mean the gays?

Y/M --- 4:08

Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.

DAD --- 4:10

Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.

MOM --- 5:12

Sure, they can come.

Mom --- 5:23

Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?

That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.

At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.

You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.

“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”

“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.

“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.

“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.

“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.

“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.

“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”

“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.

“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”

You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.

“Try again.” He instructed.

“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.

“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”

If only he’d been right.

Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.

The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.

Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.

Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.

You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.

“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.

You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.

Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.

Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.

“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”

Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.

“How long?” she breathed.

“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.

“THREE?! THR-” your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”

Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.

“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”

There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.

“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.

“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”

“Get out.” You father growled.

Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.

“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.

You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.

“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.

You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.

“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.

They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.

Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.

At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.

“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”

That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.

When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.

You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.

You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.

You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”

She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.

“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”

The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.

“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.

“Listen to this.” You sniffed.

He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.

“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.

“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.

You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.

You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.

#polyerasermic #eraserhead #erasermic #erasermic x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #present mic x aizawa #eraserhead x reader x present mic #eraserhead x reader #reader insert #bnha #mha #myhero #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha fanfiction #y/n x mha #y/n x bnha

[sour--disposition]

Lover of Mine

-

jj olatunji x fem!reader

-

a/n: i started listening to 5sos again after like 3 years (thanks amy xx) and lover of mine makes me sob, so here we go

(gif from the lovely @sdmngifs​)

“Hope and I pray - Darling, that you will stay - Butterfly lies - Chase them away”

Of course you knew who JJ was when you’d first met him; despite what your friends thought, you didn’t actually live under a rock. You’d had no choice but to get to know him when two of your closest friends had attracted the attention of Ethan and Harry on a night out and spent the rest of the evening in the club with them.

You watched from the other side of the table as your friends flirted shamelessly. Hair twirling around fingers, teeth gliding over glossed lips… it was shambolic. “Let’s go for a girls night, they said. It will be so fun, they said”, you deadpan.

“Oh so this is a girls night”, JJ exclaimed, bursting out into laughter. “That’s cold, man”, he chuckled. “Come on, drinks on me”, he winked, taking your hand and leading you to the bar to pick up the next round for the table.

You’d spent the night chatting with JJ, occasionally dipping in and out of conversation with his friends and their girlfriends. It wasn’t until you’d turned to tell your friends that the next round was on you that you realised they’d left.

“The girls with Behz and Bog?”, Simon asked you. JJ nodded for you, knowing you didn’t know their names. “They all left about a half hour ago I think”, he told you sympathetically.

“Charming”, you scoffed, starting to gather your things, ready to call it a night. JJ took your hand before you could stand, though, leaning in close to speak to you.

“Fancy a nightcap?”, he asked.

Your immediate reaction was to say no. This famous youtube star come rapper come boxer would probably only want one thing from you, and you weren’t after that. But, how could you judge him, you’d only known him 3 hours. So, against what might have been your better judgement, you found yourself nodding and agreeing.

“Bailey’s?”, he asked once you’d entered his apartment, leading you over to the kitchen. You nodded, following him and watching as he poured out the two drinks. JJ knocked your glasses together gently before taking a sip.

You’d gone home that night with a big smile on your face and a new number nestled into your contacts, under JJ’s name. You still had your reservations about JJ, you’d only known him a few hours, after all. But deep down, you hoped that whatever you had could grow into something beautiful.

-

Being with JJ was daunting. He had a massive, devoted fan base, a successful career not in one, but three different industries… And you were you. The niggling, self-sabotaging voice in your head always reminded you that JJ could do better, that no matter how good of a person he was, he would get bored of you. It took a lot to ignore the thoughts, the feelings that haunted you in the dark nights on your own.

JJ would remind you until he was blue in the face, if he had to, that he wouldn’t stay just to humour you. He’d often joke that he was too busy to waste his time on someone that he didn’t think was worth it in the long run, but by the way he held you in the dark nights that you shared, you knew that there was at least some truth to that.

“I'll never give you away - 'Cause I've already made - Already made that mistake” 

The honeymoon phase with JJ was a whirlwind. Fancy dinner dates sat across from JJ, tight white shirt pulled across his biceps; nights out with his friends, tucked under his arm so he could proudly show you off; dancing around the living room on JJ’s toes at all hours of the night.

And then JJ had music deadlines coming up, music videos to film, Sidemen videos to film… It wasn’t strange to not hear from JJ for days at a time. You tried not to worry, JJ had never given you reason to worry in the past. But there were only so many rain-checks you could take without starting to doubt your relationship. You felt guilty, how could you not. JJ was working, doing his job… You knew all of this when you entered a relationship with him.

Things were starting to look up, though. You were in an Uber on the way to JJ’s, meeting him there for your first evening out together in well over a month. You were dressed reasonably for the occasion, jeans, nice top and some heeled boots. You were excited for a few hours of JJ’s undivided attention, time for you and him to just catch up and be a normal couple again.

You knocked on the door of the apartment, surprised when Simon opened the door to you. “Y/N?”, he asked, confused.

“I’m meeting JJ here before we go out”, you told him. Simon’s face twisted into a look of guilt and remorse. “He isn’t here, is he?”, you asked, eyes dropping to the floor.

“Come wait inside, yeah? He’s probably stuck in traffic”, Simon offered, moving back to let you step into the apartment. You thanked him, following him in, pulling your shoes off before walking over to the sofa. “You good?”, Simon asked, not walking back down to his office until you’d given him a nod.

You sent JJ a text, letting him know that you were probably early, but you were at the apartment. You pulled your feet up onto the sofa, getting yourself comfortable. You let yourself get lost in a cocktail of Youtube, Twitter and TikTok. You didn’t realise how long you’d been sat there until the low battery notification popped up on your phone. Your eyes flicked to the clock on your screen. 10pm. You’d been sitting there for 4 hours.

You rolled your neck before standing up, grimacing at the pops and cracks of your stiff joints. You walk down to Simon’s office, knocking on the door. “I’m off home”, you told him, popping your head around the door. Simon turned to you, seeming shocked that you were still there.

“It’s late. Just stay, I’m not letting you go home through the middle of London on your own”, he told you. You hesitated before nodding, wishing Simon goodnight and taking yourself off to JJ’s room. You grabbed a t-shirt out of one of JJ’s drawers, heading to the bathroom to get changed and take your make-up off.

It wasn’t until you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, fully made up and ready for your date, that you started to cry. You sat on the side of the bath, head hung in your hands, as you let out full bodied sobs. This is what you were worried about, this is what JJ told you wouldn’t happen. Cancelling and rescheduling dates was one thing, but completely ignoring you and standing you up… You were heartbroken. 

You scrubbed your make up off, throwing your hair into a bun on your head and changing into JJ’s shirt. You padded out to the kitchen, on a mission to make yourself a cup of tea. “You want a tea?”, Simon called when he heard you walking over.

“Please”, you said, voice small and watery. He smiled sympathetically at you. You must have made quite the sight, messy hair, tear tracks running down your face and an oversized t-shirt skirting around your thighs. You leant against the wall, staying out of the way as Simon moved around the kitchen. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”, he asked you worriedly as he handed you your mug. 

“I will be. I just need some sleep, I think”, you told him, like your heart wasn’t tearing its way out of your chest as you spoke. You slumped off back to JJ’s room, crawling into bed and wrapping yourself in the duvet. You finished your tea, staring blankly at the wall opposite you, discarding the mug on the side table as soon as you were done.

 A fresh wave of tears started when you reached over to plug your phone in. You stayed at JJ’s that often that he’d bought you a charger so you didn’t have to worry about forgetting it. It seemed like something so trivial to cry over, but you couldn’t help it. That was the JJ you knew, JJ who bought you a phone charger so you had even less of an excuse not to stay over, JJ who bought your favourite brand of tea bags even though he knew you’d drink anything. Not this JJ, JJ who blew you off and stood you up.

 You hadn’t even bothered to shut the blinds, so you fell asleep staring out of the window, watching the lights of London’s skyline flicker and dance along the night sky.

-

You awoke to a sharp hiss and the other side of the bed dipping down. You looked over your shoulder, seeing JJ fumbling around in the dark. He looked over to you, face dropping with guilt. He opened his mouth to say something, but you simply turned over, tucking the duvet tighter under your chin.

 “I’m sorry”, JJ said behind you. “I know it’s not a good excuse, but time got away from me. We were writing and recording and next thing I know the producers started packing up, saying it was too late to do anything else”.

 He sounded genuinely apologetic and part of you wanted to roll over and let him take you into his arms and hold you until you forgave him. But a bigger part of you, an arguably pettier part of you, wanted him to suffer. You’d had to sit with no answer for hours, it was his turn now.

 JJ seemed to understand what your lack of answer meant. He quickly got changed and got ready for bed, sliding in next to you wordlessly. It took effort not to turn and wrap an arm or a leg around him like you usually would. “Night, Y/N”, JJ whispered into the dark of the room before shutting his eyes and willing himself to sleep.

 You awoke the next morning to JJ trying to bring a tray into the bedroom. You couldn’t help but giggle at the look of concentration cemented onto his face, tongue poking over his lip as his eyes stayed trained on the contents of the tray. “Good, you’re up”, he smiled once he’d rested the tray on the bed.

 “What’s this?”, you asked, shuffling yourself so you were sitting upright against the headboard.

 “An apology. I was a cunt last night. You don’t deserve that”, JJ started, perching himself next to you. “I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up. I’m so, so sorry”, he stressed, reaching over to take your hand in his. “I got tunnel vision with work. I shouldn’t have cancelled so much shit. Fuck”, he sighed.

 “Just promise you’ll try and make sure it doesn’t happen again?”, you asked, rubbing your thumb over the veins in JJ’s hand.

 “I promise. And if it does, just tell me. Tell me I’m being a cunt until I listen to you, okay?”, he said, smiling when you laughed and nodded. “Good”, he whispered, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you in and press a kiss to your temple.

“When I take a look at my life - And all of my crimes - You're the only thing that I think I got I right”

 Your arm was looped with Talia’s as you walked into the club where JJ’s release party was being held. Banners decorated in album art were draped around the top of the club, lights of all different colours bouncing off of the pictures of JJ’s face. Talia led you over to the cordoned off VIP area of the club.

 “Restricted access”, the man said, voice low and gruff. 

 “We should be on the list. Talia and Y/N”, Talia told him politely. He checked his list against your IDs before lifting the rope and letting you through. “Drinks. C’mon”, she urged, pulling your arm and dragging you over to the bar.

 Once you’d both got a drink in hand, you walked over to find JJ. “Hello, Mister”, you smiled, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Congratulations”, you whispered. JJ just rolled his eyes lovingly before introducing you to Randolph and S-X. “It’s great to finally meet you both, JJ’s said great things”, you beamed, reaching out to shake both of their hands.

JJ excused himself to go and talk to some official people regarding the party and the album itself, leaving you with a soft press of a kiss to your forehead. “Love you”, he murmured quietly, before walking off into the swarm of people.

 You spoke to Randolph and S-X for a few minutes before excusing yourself to go and find Talia, Freya and the boys. “Y/N!”, Freya called when she saw you. “You look amazing!”, she gushed, reaching out to pull you into a hug. 

“So do you, Frey”, you told her, holding her tight. You’d only just sat down next to her when JJ came up beside you, resting his arm on your shoulder. 

“Are you wanting to sit down?”, you asked him, smiling up at him.

“Just wondered if you want another drink before I do, me and Simon are going for another round”, he told you. You nodded, squeezing his fingers quickly before he left. You jumped straight back into your conversation with Freya, Talia joining soon after, followed by Josh. 

At the bar, as they waited for the drinks to be prepared, Simon caught JJ staring at you. “You did good”, he told JJ, leaning in so the younger man could hear him over the music.

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me”, JJ said simply, turning to Simon. “This is great, YouTube is great… I love it all”, he started, “But I’d give it all up in an instant for her. She’s put up with so much shit for me to get this album out and to keep a consistent video schedule and stuff with the boxing and everything. She doesn’t complain, just tells me when I’m being a cunt and to sort my shit out”.

Simon looked at JJ, convinced he’d never seen his best friend as love as he was in that moment. “I’m happy for you, bro”, Simon told him honestly, slapping his chest supportively before turning around to grab one of the trays of drinks that had been left on the bar.

 -

 Back at the apartment, once your slinky dress was discarded on the bathroom floor and JJ’s Versace jacket had been hung haphazardly on the back of his chair, you waited for JJ to get out of the shower and join you in bed. You flicked through the photos that you’d taken or been sent of the night, landing on your favourite of you and JJ that Talia had sent you once you’d piled into the Uber.

You’d been forcing JJ to cycle through a whole album of poses, making sure you got at least one decent one from the night as you and JJ were renowned for taking the blurriest of pictures. Simon had made a quip about how JJ was whipped and JJ had sniped back. You’d burst out into laughter, head tilted back, as JJ stared at you lovingly. The picture captured it perfectly; JJ’s arm tucked around your waist, your hand hooked over his shoulder, the look in JJ’s eyes that you knew was reserved for only you…

 “Whaddya lookin at?”, JJ asked, jumping onto the bed next to you and yanking you into his arms. You showed him the photo over your shoulder. “It’s cute. Send me it”, he told you. Once JJ had removed himself from your back, you rolled over so you could face him. You watched as he received the picture and immediately went to set it as his lock screen. “What?”, he asked defensively when you fixed him with a soft look.

“It’s just cute”, you told him, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips. JJ’s hands came to your hips, guiding you over to sit on his lap. “I love you”, you whispered, resting your forehead against his. JJ nudged his head forward, dropping another kiss onto the corner of your mouth before looking up and meeting your eyes.

“I love you too, more than you’ll ever know”.

#jj olatunji #ksi #ksi imagine #jj olatunji imagine #ksi oneshot #jj olatunji oneshot #sidemen imagine #sidemen oneshot #sidemen #sidemen imagines #ksi x reader #jj olatunji x reader #uk youtube imagine #uk youtube

[i-need-entertainment]

Haikyuu!! Boys as Bad Dad moments

Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi, Daishou and Numai

**These are ways they “failed” as fathers. I am not talking about ACTUALLY failing as fathers, just things dads have done that most of us either remember/get told about NOT TO BE TAKEN  S E R I O U S L Y  it is just for      f u n  I also gave them all at least 2 kids cause SibLiNgS**

A ‘*’ means it happened to me lol

TW- Mentions of giving too much medicine, accidental pain caused to child, these are things I either experienced/knew people who experienced them, allusion to cursing/a FEW bad words (but I substitute a letter for something else :)

*Akaashi Keiji: 

He had been working in his office when his son had come in.

You had been putting your newborn to sleep for a nap when your son decided he wanted to be with his dad.

His son was only 3, so when Akaashi was held up in his office editing his son, Kenji, would sometimes come in and plop himself in Akaashi’s lap.

His sons small feel padded on the floor while he made his way to his father, softly tugging on his pants as he stuck his arms up.

Akaashi smiled and softly chuckled before gently picking up his son from under his arms and placing him on his lap.

He got to work soon after, reading and revising the pages.

Other than having his son on his lap it wasn’t unusual for him to be drinking coffee while working.

Keep in mind, your son had inherited a lot from Akaashi, and not just his looks or personality.

But also his habits.

Because of this, your son was very fidgety, usually toying with a string or your fingers.

That meant he tended to move around a lot.

Akaashi had just lifted his not-so-cold coffee to his lips when his son had made a sudden movement, causing him to knock his arm and, “AHH” Akaashi’s eyes snapped open as his son started crying, cursing under his breath he stood up gently holding his son in his arms as he carried him to the bathroom.

Sitting him down on the counter he dried the coffee off of his son, luckily it hadn’t been hot enough to burn him, but it was still hot enough to hurt.

“What happened? I heard crying, is he okay?” Akaashi sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, he’s okay, he bumped my arm and I spilled my coffee on him. He’s okay! It didn’t burn him, but it did hurt...” Your frowned as you stood in front of your son, giving him a soft smile before kissing his arm, cause kisses always make it feel better~

You carefully picked him up from the counter, rocking him slowly side to side as he burrowed into your shoulder.

“Are you okay little man~” He nodded as he sniffled into your shoulder, little hands clutching onto the fabric of your t-shirt.

“You know daddy didn’t mean it, it was an accident.” He nodded again, lifting his head to rub his eyes and reach out for his dad.

Akaashi gave a wobbly smile before reaching over to grab him, kissing the top of his head as he carried him back to his office, making sure to have some iced coffee instead.

Washio Tatsuki: 

This would be the first time Washio was left alone with the twins.

5 months ago, you and your husband had had your first children, your adorable fraternal twins Natsuki and Tatsuo.

Today would be the first day you would be away from them, but with your mother being sick and you being the only one available to take care of her you had to go.

You weren’t too worried about your husband, he was already a good dad so you had no doubt they were in good hands.

But it was never an enjoyable experience to have to leave your kids, especially your babies, and for the first time. 

So, you decided to leave early in the morning, give them their good morning kisses and head over to your parents house.

Before you left you changed their diapers, letting them play in their little play pen while your husband tried to get up.

Rubbing his eyes Washio walked into the play room.

He had to go to the gym today for a meeting, fortunately EJP had a really good daycare system in the stadium, so he could leave his kids there while he attended the short meeting.

He stopped in his tracks as his face blanched and he felt his breath stop.

You had changed the twins’ diapers...but you hadn’t dressed them.

The twins were still young, so without looking at their, uh, biological differences you couldn’t tell them apart....

Now, usually when this happened you guys would just check the diapers, but you had just done them..

And he was already running a bit late.

So, he made his best guess, got them dressed (one in pink, the other in blue), fed and in the car driving them to the stadium.

Once he got there he quickly dropped them off, rushing to his meeting.

The meeting had been fairly simple, just some pre-season info he’d need.

After chatting with his coach/teammates, and stopping Suna and Komori from pulling a prank, he made his way back to the daycare.

He walked into the building when one of the younger care takers, Yui, walked up to him, One twin in each arm.

He smiled as he carefully put them into their carriers.

“Uhm, just a question...” He looked up to her and motioned for her to continue.

“...Were you aware that Tatsuo was wearing the dress?” Washio sighed as he ran a hand down his face shaking his head. Yui light heartedly smiled, “Don’t worry, we switched them.” Thanking them, he picked up his babies and went home.

He was not prepared for the way you cackled when he told you what happened.

*Konoha Akinori: 

You had gone away for a business trip, leaving your husband Konoha home with your 3 kids. (You guys have 2 girls and a boy)

Your middlest child, your son Akira, had recently come down with a cold making the poor thing miserable when he tried to sleep.

Being the good dad that he is, he gave his son some benadryl!

The next morning he woke up, and after letting his kids sleep in for a little bit he woke them up too.

...two of them.

He tried several times to get his son to leave his bed, but the little kid couldn’t so much as swing one foot over the side of his bed with out falling asleep again.

He didn’t think too much of it, the kid had a cold after all.

So he let him sleep for another hour or so before making him get up for real.

A day later you got home, and everything was pretty much normal.

Until you went to put your son to bed, and realized he had crashed on the couch.

“...Uhm, Akinori?” Your husband lifted his head at your voice, setting the dishes in the sink and drying his hands with a towel as he made his way over to you. 

“Yeah babe?” You took a look over towards your son before looking back to your husband.

“...Has Akira been like that all weekend?” Konoha ran his hand through his hair as he sighed. “No, only since Saturday. He wasn’t feeling good so I gave him some benadryl, he’s been dead to the world since.” You slowly nodded.

“Uhm, Akinori?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “How much benadryl did you give him?”

He left to grab the box, coming back with it in his hand as he continued to look at it.

He shook his head in confusion. “I gave him the amount the box said, 1 teasp-”- He paused.

Uh oh.

He in fact, had not given his son a teaspoon of benadryl.

He had given him a tablespoon.

*Kita Shinsuke: 

You had to leave early one morning for a doctors appointment; you were pregnant with you and Kita’s second child. 

Usually for these appointments Kita’s grandmother would watch your 3 year old daughter Kyoka.

But she had something to do that morning so Kita was the one responsible for getting her ready for preschool.

Kita was a good father so you weren’t worried.

You knew she would be put together, fed, and on time.

There was just one thing you couldn’t account for.

“Daddy?” Kita looked away from the mirror he was shaving in and down to his daughter, washing away the traces of shaving cream. “Yes sweetheart?”

She held out her small hand, 2 bright pink hair ties with little butterfly charms on them held out in her palm.

“Can you do my piggy tails please?” His eyes widened.

He hadn’t done hair...like...ever.

But from the puppy eyes his little princess was giving him, how could he not do it?!

Plus, it couldn’t be that hard...right? I mean, he had watched you do it plenty of times, and it was pretty straight forward.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed he had her stand on the ground in front of him.

He grabbed her brush and put the two hair ties she had given him on his wrist.

He brushed her hair and parted it as evenly as he could, trying to be gentle in the process.

Now time for the pig tails..

He pulled her hair back, trying to make it tight to it would stay.

...But he might have made it a little too tight.

He turned her around and realized he had made them way too tight.

Not only did her hair look like he had slicked it back with x4 strength hair gel, but it was so tight that her eyebrows had been stuck way up on her forehead.

He was quick to turn her back around, loosening the hair ties so she looks like a 3 year old again.

His face turned undeniably red as he told you what happened later that night, you light heartedly laughing at his misfortune.

Suna Rintaro: 

Suna had just gotten out of practice, and now he was on the way to his kids school. 

You and Suna had 4 kids, 2 boys and 2 girls. 

The youngest 2 had a doctor’s appointment earlier that day, which you had taken them too. Meaning Suna needed to pick the older 2 up from elementary school.

He had been listening to music, his music to be specific.

He had pulled into the parking lot, changing the playlist to a kid friendly one right before his children got in the car.

After they had told him about their days, and he had told about his, he switched back on the music.

It had been fine for a song.

Until he realized that he had a few songs qued.

The fun little song had just ended when the bass dropped, the color draining from his face as soon as the song started.

The mentioned song being “Big Bank” by YG, 2 Chainz, Big Sean and Nicki Minaj of course~.

He was quick to turn the radio off, waiting until he could pull over, empty the que, and turn on kid friendly music.

He told the kids to ‘forget what they heard’ and he continued on his drive home.

Now, you’ve got to remember, his daughter is in kindergarten and his son is in 2nd grade, so they’re still kind of at that “monkey see, monkey do” age range.

Or rather, “monkey hear, monkey repeat.”

He thought it was gonna be okay, they were good kids so he figured telling them to forget they even heard it, they would let it go.

There was just one thing about his children that he didn’t account for.

As obedient and well behaved as his children were, they were also very curious.

That night at dinner they had all been sat down at the table, eating dinner and talking about their days. 

You had been feeding your infant son while Suna had been watching the 3 year old, the other 2 older children happily eating their food. Until...

“Hey mommy?” You looked at your daughter with a smile, “Yes baby?” She continued to eat her dinner, “What’s a b!tch?” Your eyes widened as your husband choked on his food, your baby laughing at the scene before him.

Hitting his chest and taking a sip of water Suna tried to catch his breath.

“Nezuko we don’t say that, where did you hear that?!” She tilted her head as she looked at you confused before turning to look at Suna, pointing a small finger at him.

“It was on the radio, daddy told us to ‘forget’ but I didn’t know what it meant...What does it mean?” You sent a glare towards your husband as you sighed.

After explaining to your daughter why it was bad to say those things and not to repeat everything she heard you cleaned up your kids and put them to bed.

...You had quite the conversation with your husband later that night.

Ushijima Wakatoshi: 

Ushijima had been on grocery duty this week since you had a meeting with a friend.

He had the Friday off, and since you weren’t home he took the kids with him.

Now, I would like you to know that you guys have 6 kids. S I X.

Growing up with no siblings and divorced parents, Ushijima wanted to make sure none of his kids were lonely.

Originally you guys had two, each kid had a buddy.

...but then you had a third, and you couldn’t just leave him alone...

so you had another...then another...

And now you guys have 6. But it’s okay cause you both love kids anyway~

He was doing his best, he truly was. He had his 2 youngest sitting in the little seat by the handle bar, 2 kids in the basket, 1 hanging onto the side and the oldest walking alongside him.

When they got to check out he had to take one of the kids out of the basket, so he opted for his 3rd oldest, his son Kazue, figuring he was older so it’d be a-okay.

He checked out his extensive amount of groceries before loading them up into his car, and his kids.

He pulled out of the grocery store parking lot and got on the road, his kids singing along to the radio and chatting amongst themselves.

They had been driving for 6 minutes when his oldest child, Ren, spoke up. “Uh, dad?” He hummed, briefly checking the rear view mirror before returning his gaze to the road. “When are we going back to get Kazue?” His face lost all color as his eyes widened.

As swiftly and safely as he could he pulled over to the side of the road, whipping around in his seat to take a head count. ‘1..2..3..4..5...oh sh-’ Turning back around he got back onto the road, taking the nearest u-turn and rushing back to the store. 

Unbuckling his kids from their carseats he hurried them back into the store, his oldest holding the 2nd borns hand, as he held all 3 of the younger ones in his arms.

He frantically entered the store, almost collapsing with relief when he saw his son sat at the customer service desk with the security guard, eating a lollipop before smiling when he saw his dad come to pick him up.

After giving proof that yes, he was his father, he took all of his kids back home after getting them some ice cream.

...this would be one conversation he was not excited to have with you....

Yahaba Shigeru: 

Yahaba and his 2 sons had been hanging out in the living room while you finished making some snacks in the kitchen.

Yahaba had been trying to set up a DVD player, you guys were going to watch some home-videos from your high school days but they were all on CD.

So, after borrowing one from his parents house, he set out to hook it up to the TV.

...Which was proving much more difficult then he first anticipated.

His two boys, Itsuki (6) and Hayato (8) were in there with him, ‘helping’ as they had called it.

Yahaba groaned as he sat back, a hand ruffling through his hair as he racked his brain to think of the problem.

You had finished preparing everything so you came in, with the food, and set it down on the coffee table.

You came up behind your husband, kneeling down behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders.

“How’s it going?” He sighed, leaning back into you.

“Well, I think I know what I need to do, I’m going to have to stick my hand back there though. Hey Hayato, can you help me out buddy?” The 8 year old excitedly nodded.

“Great, I need you to hold this flashlight here, hold it steady okay?” Hayato nodded with a ‘Yup!’ before Yahaba laid down on his side, maneuvering to where he could see the back of the TV.

All had been going well, he had just got it hooked up, and after having you test it, it worked!

He tried to get himself out from behind the TV, until a sharp edge caught his finger.

“Sh!t!” Your eyes widened, “Shigeru!” He hadn’t realized his slip up until he was out from behind the TV, faced directly with your glare.

“Kids, don’t say that.” His youngest blinked at him. “But why?”.

Kneeling down in front of him Yahaba tried to explain, but it was a little hard when you were glaring holes into the back of his head and his oldest was giggling at the situation.

*Iwaizumi Hajime: 

It was a weekend in summer vacation, and you and your husband were both off work.

This meant, you guys got a whole day to spend with your 3 boys, and one of the things you guys loved to do as a family was play games.

On this particular afternoon, your sons had chosen to play twister.

You were a little skeptical because you had 3 competitive, rambunctious boys. 

And an equally competitive rambunctious husband.

But after getting 4 identical pouts you couldn’t say no...

But, you elected to be the spinner. (..for your own safety)

“Left hand, green.” This put your middlest son in quite the predicament.

The only space available was the Green directly by his fathers hand, meaning he’d have to crawl under Iwaizumi.

“Okay Hajime, right hand, yellow.” Iwaizumi grimaced as he tried to reach it.

 This wasn’t good, the mat was slick, his hands were sweating-

“oOf” Before he could catch himself he had completely lost his balance, landing right on his son.

You gasped in horror as you saw the life get squeezed out of your 5 year old, scrambling from where you sat to check on your now pancaked son.

“...Hiro..are you okay..?” 

His small head shot up with a “I’m okay!” Before he, albeit wearily, stood up brushing off his godzilla t-shirt before continuing on with his life.

You took a deep breath as you sat back down, flashing a warning look towards your husband who sheepishly smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

And after checking that yes, your son really was okay, you guys continued on with some...safer games.

Futakuchi Kenji: 

You had left for a weekend visit to see your parents in your hometown, leaving your husband and Your 3 girls alone.

It was a friday night, so after having a less than healthy dinner, ice cream and a fair amount of other sweets, Futakuchi figured a movie before bed would be a good way to finish off the night.

He scrolled through netflix trying to find a movie he could watch with his girls.

“Daddy, can we watch snow white?!” Futakuchi looked down at his oldest, Hayami, before he shrugged. “Sure.”

He may be a guy, but he was not above watching princess movies if it meant his babies were happy. Besides, it was a disney movie, what bad could be in it!

Everything was going swell, until the witch showed up.

He felt the sick feeling of dread in his stomach as soon as he felt his middlest curl in tight to his side, his youngest hopping off of the couch and climbing into his lap.

...Disney SHOULD have been a safe bet, but with the way his 3 girls were clinging onto him for dear life, he probably should have previewed it first..

That night he put them to bed, reading them a quick story before giving them each a kiss on their forehead and tucking them into bed. 

15 minutes.

15 minutes of almost sleep when he heard you guys’ bedroom door creak open, 3 sets of little feet pad over to his side of the bed.

“...daddy..?” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he opened them, brown eyes meeting the teary ones of his 3 children as they stood there. Speaking in as soft of a voice as he could he tried not to sound as tired as he knew he was.

“What is it munchkin?” His daughters all fidgeted where they stood, fiddling with the hems of their princess night gowns as they stood there.

“...We’re scared...can we sleep with you..?” Knowing he wouldn’t be able to get them to sleep like you could, and being incredibly tired himself he moved to the side, opening the covers and making room for all 3 of his princesses.

...This was going to be a long night for him.. 

Daishou Suguru: 

Daishou had been playing outside with his kids, his 2 year old son Kento and his 5 year old daughter Shizuko.

His son was sat on his shoulders, one of Daishou’s hands wrapped firmly around the boys ankles while the other pushed his daughter on the swing.

You had been inside getting dinner ready while they had been outside; smiling fondly at the smiles that were plastered on their faces.

When dinner had finished you walked to the sliding glass door, opening it and calling to them. “Dinners ready! Come inside and wash up so we can eat.” Your daughter and husband replied with ‘okay!’ as you went back to get plates. 

Slowing down the swing Daishou brought it to a stop so Skizuko could safely get off.

In all honesty, he was a good dad.

He was very mindful of his children and their surroundings, so they didn’t get hurt too often.

He was also very careful not to accidentally hurt them.

But accidents happen.

Walking to the back door, he, somehow either forgot or the thought didn’t register in his mind that his son was still perched on his shoulders.

He didn’t remember until a loud *whack!* was heard, and his sons cries sounded above him.

..He had tried going inside, through the door, with his son on his shoulders.

Bringing him down from his shoulders he quickly brought him inside to set him down on the counter, you almost screaming when you saw the bruise forming on his little forehead.

“Ah-wha-how- SUGURU! What happened?!”

Groaning Daishou gently put a small ice pack on his sons head, “...He whacked his head on the door frame...” You looked at him, “And how did he do that?”

Daishou sighed as he looked down, grimacing at the purple mark already present on his sons head.

...For the next few nights the couch became a good friend of his.

Numai Kazuma: 

Today was your son, Kazuya’s birthday. Today he would be turning 1.

Kazuya was the first, and so far only child you had with your husband of 3 years Kazuma Numai.

You and Numai were still learning how to be parents, and it had been an interesting journey to say the least, but you guys were doing good!

Your relatives and friends had just left, leaving you, Kazuma and your son.

It was pretty late so you started cleaning up in the kitchen and Numai started in the living room.

Kazuya had been pretty fussy, you both figuring he was tired, but when you tried to put him to sleep he wouldn’t even close his eyes.

So, deciding it’d be best to get it out of the way Numai held Kazuya as he was cleaning.

Things had been going just fine before Kazuya had reached out to grab at something on a nearby book shelf, causing the book shelf to start tipping over.

At that moment the only thing going through Numai’s mind was ‘stop the book shelf’, because at the moment, getting his son and him crushed by a bookshelf seemed like a very bad thing.

But what he hadn’t thought of was the fact that reflexively he had used both of his arms to stop said shelf (which didn’t even fall), the same two arms that had been holding his- “WAAAHH”

His eyes snapped down to the BABY he had just let go of, now crying on the floor.

You rushed into the living room, seeing your husband now cradling your still crying son, whispering apologies into his hair as he kissed the top of his head.

“Kazuma what happened?” 

He avoided eye contact. 

“...Kazuma...” Looking down he spoke.

“...I dropped him...”

...

“...you what?”

#akaashi x reader #washio x reader #konoha x reader #kita x reader #suna x reader #ushijima x reader #yahaba x reader #iwaizumi x reader #futakuchi x reader #daishou x reader #numai x reader #hq headcanons #hq imagines #Haikyuu!! #haikyuufanfiction #haikyu x reader

[chyanxrene]

Sweetheart Part 1

♡ Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Y/N

♡ Summary: Draco and Y/N are friend’s with benefits, however Draco doesn’t stick by the rules he created, so Y/N decides to teach him one last lesson.

♡ Warnings: Degradation, pure smut, female receiving

Being friends with benefits with none other than Draco Malfoy was— different. Y/N had expected this however wasn't prepared for the extra feelings that came along with it. She wouldn't dare tell him, that was a secret that was kept to herself and herself only.

It all started at the end of 5th year, Y/N had been paired with Slytherin in potions. It only took two weeks for the duo to act on their sexual tension.

Draco had always been outspoken however she was left speechless when he asked Y/N if there was a potion to stop himself from getting hard around her. Let's just say Y/N and Draco were no longer studying potions.

Though there are many benefits of having sex with Draco Malfoy, the quickies between classes, after classes, sometimes during. Y/N couldn't help but want more from him.

It had been almost a year now and they were still in the same place. Y/N began regretting agreeing to Draco's rules, which at the time she didn't care— but after doing the things she done with him, she found it hard not to grow attached.

There were five rules— the consequences if you were to break one was to cut all ties with one another.

1. No catching feelings— At all 2. No sexual relations with anyone else 3. If you are to get in a relationship with another person then let the other know immediately 4. Stays between both parties, no one else should know 5. No catching feelings

The five rules, well technically four were easy at first. But it became harder for Y/N to grasp the fact that Draco would never truly be hers.

It had been a month since the last time they fucked. Usually it was a few times a week— always on Draco's time. But something had changed, she didn't know what. She couldn't just ask him as she was in Y/H/N and he was in Slytherin.

She walked into the great hall and sat on her house's table. She picked apart her food whilst reading over her charms book, her head snapped up when she heard a deep chuckle and a giggle from the Slytherin table.

Her heart sank, she watched as the boy she had feelings for wrap his arm around a blonde witches waist. His mouth was attached to her neck, kissing it lightly, she was blushing and laughing.

Y/N felt sick, she couldn't watch it anymore. Draco had broken rules two and three and didn't even tell her— she had to cut all ties now. She stood up quickly and rushed back to her common room, she sunk into a deep sleep after wetting her pillow with tears.

The next day Y/N woke up, she felt a tension headache from all that crying. But she knew she had to be stronger, she sucked up her tears and decided to get Draco Malfoy back— before she cut all ties.

Y/N was already beautiful, her hair was always well managed. She had a few admirers and was seen as the Y/H/N's sweetheart. Today she wasn't going to be a sweetheart, the anger inside of her wouldn't let her.

She wouldn't change her appearance for him, oh no, she'd never let a boy effect her in that way. She just wanted revenge, her first class was potions, she sat next to Draco in this and this would be the perfect time to initiate her plan.

Y/N completed her normal beauty routine— although she did add an extra layer of lip gloss. With her head held high she walked confidently into potions class, Draco hadn't arrived but she knew he would soon.

"You're late Mr Malfoy" The Professor spoke.

Draco had walked in with his hand slumped over the same blonde girls shoulder. She pecked his cheek and ran to her seat which was at the other end of the room.

"Sorry Professor."

His smell was overpowering, the smell she had grown so accustomed too. It gave her goosebumps but she had to stay strong.

"You're not going to say hello?" Draco whispered, whilst writing notes.

Y/N looked at him, sending him a small smile "you didn't either, but Hello Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" He laughed "You know I prefer it when you call me Draco."

Y/N let out a small laugh "we're not friends."

His eyes caught hers, he smirked and then nodded.

The class went on, Y/N was feeling better about herself however she nearly jumped out of her seat when she felt Draco's hand on her bare thigh.

Y/N's hand pushed his away however his hand only held onto her thigh tighter.

"What are you doing?" She whispered harshly.

"Can my hand not be here anymore Y/N?"

His finger was becoming dangerously close to where she wanted him most. She was aroused, her underwear becoming wet from his soft touches.

"Get off."

"No."

She tried to move his hand he was too strong. He looked around before leaning into her, pretending he was talking about work as he still continued to write notes.

"I want to be inside you Y/N."

Her heart was racing, she wanted that too. She was conflicted, her body was betraying her but her mind was more stronger, time for Plan B.

"Y/N." Draco growled, his finger now stroking up and down her clothed pussy.

She licked her bottom lip "yes?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

Y/N hummed in response as his finger brushed slowly against her clit.

"Meet me in the broom closet after class, I want to feel your wet cunt around my dick."

His finger paused, he was searching for a response, Y/N was suddenly breathless. She couldn't give in to him. Without him knowing he was playing her around, it wasn't fair— but the pleasure he gave her was unmatched.

So she nodded slowly.

Draco smirked "you're a good girl, my good little slut."

Y/N couldn't help but let out a whimper, which resulted in him letting out a short laugh. His fingers were now on the desk, he continued to listen in class as if he wasn't just touching her clit.

Class was soon over, both Draco and Y/N got up slowly. They didn't leave together— no that would be too suspicious. Draco strolled over to his arm candy, he whispered something in her ear, causing her to blush and giggle.

Again Y/N felt stupid, she suddenly wanted the ground to swallow her. His eyes met hers, she knew that look, it was his look to tell her 'go now'.

Within ten minutes Draco had Y/N against the door, attacking her neck with his mouth.

"I can't believe I've managed to wait this long" Draco whispered.

"Did you miss me sweetheart?"

She did, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction, so she simply looked away. His hand slowly trailed down her body and slipped under her skirt.

"Don't make me ask twice."

Y/N moaned as she felt her underwear now being tugged down her thighs by him, his thumb brushed her clit slowly, circling it with the right amount of pleasure.

"I-I, oh God."

His middle finger entered her slick pussy, curling and rubbing against her rippled walls. Draco's other hand sharply grabbed a chunk of Y/N's hair, dragging her head back.

"Answer the fucking question."

His breath was heavy on her face as he searched her eyes. His hand was tighter in her hair, she winced at the pain.

"Yes— fuck, I missed you."

His finger pumped in and out, whilst the pad of his thumb rubbed her clit harder.

"Tell me what you missed sweetheart— maybe I might give you it."

Y/N's mind was hazy, her breathing was heavy. Draco's hand was still nestled into her hair, his eyes boring into her own.

"I—I missed— shit."

He added another finger, kissing along her collar bone, they were wet kisses, just like how he liked. He wouldn't dare leave a mark— no that would be wrong.

"Go on, speak."

"I missed, your— mouth."

Draco's tongue ran up the side of her neck, he knew exactly where her sweet spot was. Y/N moaned quietly at this, her pussy was aching for a release.

He hummed in response, his mouth and fingers still working their magic.

"What about my mouth Y/N?"

Draco knew Y/N wasn't comfortable speaking like this, but that only turned him on more. She was innocent in his eyes— she'd let him do anything to her, that’s why he kept coming back.

"Come on sweetheart, use you words— let me hear your voice."

"I missed when you— oh fuck."

A third finger was added, stretching her, she felt full but this was nothing compared to what Draco had in his trousers.

"Do you like when my mouth is on yours? Hmm— or on your clit?"

"B-both."

"My greedy little slut" he laughed.

Draco's hand released Y/N's hair, she could hear the wet noises that came from her pussy as Draco's fingers thrusted in and out of it at a rapid pace.

"You'll be a good girl and cum on my tongue?".

It was more of a statement than a question. Y/N's eyes were screwed shut, her mouth was open slightly, she couldn't think.

Draco slapped her cheek— not hard but enough for a stinging sensation to occur.

"Answer me" he growled.

His fingers never slowed down, they continued fucking her with an unimaginable speed. She was going to cum— soon.

Her eyes widened, she felt her left cheek heat up as the sharp pain wore off.

"Y-yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes Draco."

He fell to his knees, his hand pushed her knee, forcing her to widen her stance. His mouth was on her clit straight away, sucking and biting at his.

The shockwaves of pleasure was amazing, Y/N knew this would be an intense orgasm.

"Oh— God."

"No, say my name— it's me— it's me who's doing this— say my fucking name."

Y/N's head slammed back onto the door as her body arched off it. Draco lifted her right leg over his shoulder, allowing him more access to her pussy.

His fingers now went to her clit whilst his tongue entered her tight hole.

"Yes— Draco" Y/N cried out, one finger entered her again and joined his tongue inside her.

She was close, ready to cum in his mouth. He knew this as he felt her pussy tighten around his finger. His spare hand flicked her clit and then rubbed it quickly.

"Mmm— fuck— Draco."

Y/N's eyes closed as she felt herself cum, her leg was shaking on top of Draco's shoulder. He lapped up her orgasm— humming at her taste. Giving her two more pumps with his finger, he kissed her clit and stood up.

His dick was hard, the outline of it evident against his school trousers. His mouth was lips were wet from her cum.

He took his finger, tracing his lips and then pushing the finger into her mouth. She closed her eyes, sucking on the taste.

"Good girl."

Draco began palming his cock, unbuttoning it and then unzipping it, his eyes were heavy, full of lust.

Y/N who had now regained her normal breath, reached for her underwear and slipped them back on, she smiled at Draco. Who had a puzzled look on his face.

Y/N smiled at him sweetly and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Thank you for the great orgasm."

Draco's face was in a frown now "where the fuck are you going?"

Y/N's hand was on the door handle, opening it slightly. She looked him up and down and then smirked.

"I got better things to do— sweetheart."

And with that she slammed the door shut, Draco's protests were heard as she exited the room. She felt amazing, empowered and satisfied.

But deep down she knew— he would be coming for her and he would be coming with vengeance.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco smut #draco malfoy smut #draco x y/n #harrypotter #harry potter #dracomalfoy

[mandoinevarro]

NO APPOINTMENT, NO MEETING

Rule Maker, Rule Breaker: Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Words: 9.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: so ok descriptions of blood (it’s only one sentence and I don’t think it’s too bad but just in case), remembering trauma/triggering memories, angst. now for the fun part: SMUT, one (1) thigh spank, a sprinkle of dirty talk, a dash of praise kink, spitting, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, maybe cockwarming but for like two minutes

a/n: happy 2021!!! only one chapter left after this one so enjoy. for the hornies who only want fun and sexy times: scroll to the bottom and work your way up, smut is like 3/4 in.

……………

In the blue morning light, Nevarro is almost beautiful.

The deserted lava fields spread in flat terrain as far as the eye can see, bumps and dips where magma cooled creating waves like a black ocean. Among the tide, obsidian turtle shells shimmer like dark mirrors, where Din Djarin studies his face. It startled him when he crawled from the tent to take the pram inside; when he glanced at the ground and the ground glanced back. His face cloudy and warped by irregular volcanic rock, he barely recognized it. It’s not rare for his features to blur in his memory sometimes, especially when he’s out working for days at a time unable to catch a glimpse of himself. Vanity is not one of his many shortcomings—hiding your face for decades is a mighty vaccine against it.

But today something’s different. The reflection peering up at him belongs to a stranger. Relaxed eyebrows, a hooked nose (has the curved always been so pronounced?), lips that faintly curl up. Content brown eyes. His mirrored counterpart is a sentient being below him, plump with blood and oxygen. Alive.

He looks happy.

However, morning weighs heavily on Din, he can see it in the bags below his eyes. It stings like a hangover, like the only hangover he ever had, back when he was an eighteen-year-old idiot and used the credits of his first bounty to get a flask of spotchka from some seedy bar. He remembers sitting in his crammed quarters at the old Covert, chugging the bottle on his own, methodically forcing himself to swallow against the burn. Waiting. Waiting for the alchemy to kick in, for the magic toxins that flushed drunks’ faces, lubricant that oiled their scowls into easy smiles. Waiting to feel what everyone else felt, just for a moment.

Lifting his head, Din peers ahead. Shadows of the city’s buildings creep above the horizon like a bad omen. The opposite of a promised land. Hunchbacked buildings stain the blue-gray sky, abruptly interrupt the intricate lava patterns, Nevarro the planet versus Nevarro the city. Din’s stomach crumples. One, maybe two hours by foot. One, maybe two hours, and last night will fade into a distant memory, a collection of ghost sensations.

But not yet. Right now, last night is still real. You are still real.

Crawling back into the tent, he licks his lips for the millionth time today. He can still taste you: that thick, salty-bitter taste, so much better than he could’ve imagined. He hopes it stays on his lips for a long time; or, at least, that he can replace it soon.

Inside, you’re curled up with his cape, a blooming bruise above your shoulder peeking out, the baby’s pram hovering next to you. He sits down, careful not to awake either of you, and runs a finger down your shoulder, feels the skin prickle. He buries his nose on the back of your hair and inhales: rain and earth as usual, but his soap too, a part of him that clings to you. Lips on the crook of your neck, Din smells himself on you, wonders if you’ll want to wash his scent away, or if you’ll want it to stay on you. You stir, your soft exhales gain a rasp. Din smiles. You do snore, after all.

He’ll have to wake you soon. He knows. He knows. You need to talk about last night. You need to have the frank conversation that you’ve both been postponing for way too long, back when you floated in dead space, no deadlines, no rush at all to make decisions. But things have changed, and he knows what he wants now, and he knows it can’t wait. Yet every time his fingers brush your shoulder to nudge you awake, he pulls them back. He’s never seen you so peaceful, not moving except for your expanding and contracting chest, the light fluttering of your lashes. All the fight in your body gone, those tall bridges around you down and inviting. So different from when he met you.

If there’s one thing Din’s good at, it’s sniffing out trouble. He had to be, if he wanted to make it in the Fighting Corps. In the Bounty Hunter’s Guild. He can sweep a room with a mental black light, spot the people who flare up white and bright, the ones he needs to stay away from—or approach, depending on the situation. And that day at the cantina, the first time he laid eyes on you? You glowed with it. Talking big game in Karga’s booth, laughing with your pretty smile and shuffling cards, you beamed with trouble, bright as radiation and just as dangerous. What needed to happen was clear as day. The Mandalorian needed to turn on his heels immediately, strut out of that bounty hunter hive without a second look, and never, ever, ask about you.

He’d been there before.

Mandalorians, despite common belief, are not made of beskar. Not on the inside, at least. They’re all warm blooded organics, burdened with flesh and internal organs and skeletons; pain and pleasure receptors. Older Mandalorians cautioned younger ones when they came of age and finished their training, when they were ready to become providers. Tall stern warriors, his superiors, warned that there would be temptation, situations that would make him doubt the Way. “Even the briefest taste,” Din’s former Alor said with that cavernous voice he had, “can be the point of no return.” And he was right.

Outside the Covert, there was so much…stimuli. Voices and colors and movement, a twenty-four-hour beehive, the galaxy buzzed and vibrated to no end. It was equally wonderous and grotesque, like a circus. The strenuous noises that rattled his ribcage, the strong smells, the different food, his senses had never felt more exhausted. The faces…stars, the faces. How muscles stretched in a big smile, the glint of teeth, the deep creases between eyebrows that signaled anger. Always moving, always changing, Din hadn’t seen so many uncovered heads since he was a child. His first few weeks outside he’d stare at people for hours until they scurried away or tried to fight him. Tried.

Then, when the initial shock wore out, he noticed other details. The way children’s eyes filled with admiration when they’d look at their parents, how that dimpled girl in Alderaan would blush and stutter whenever he bought something from her stall. And Din would wonder, despite all warnings, what it’d feel like to be one of them. To share so much of himself with the outside world. With time, curiosity morphed into obsession, obsession into desperation, and soon enough he found himself with Rand and the others, running rampant in an already chaotic galaxy.

One war, two decades, and a thousand regrets later, the curiosity died down. The helmet helped him tune out the outside world, made it easier to retreat into his memories. The galaxy seemed duller by the day, emptier. Lonelier, though he didn’t dwell on it.

That is, until he met you.

Until his resolve circled the drain and he asked Karga who you were and where to find you, walked into your store without an idea of what he’d say. Behind the counter, eyes shining and that silky voice asking what you could do for him, you reset the galaxy for him. Every time he visited you felt like his first day outside all over again.

But last night—that was stronger, set in stone. It felt like commitment. Something was born last night, something burgeoned in his chest and took root. Din can feel the fullness in his body, like he grew an extra limb, similar to the swell that tangled in his insides when he went back for the kid. He doesn’t have a name for it yet, but it reminds him of the day he swore the Creed. The fresh sense of purpose, the carved-out path in front of him, knowing what needs to be done:

When the siege is over, he’ll take you with him.

“Are you watching me sleep?” you mumble, cotton mouthed. “Kinda creepy.”

Din chuckles, then remembers. Stars, his heart stops beating for a second. Dread and natural reflexes throw his palm whip fast over your closed eyes. Maker. What the hell was he thinking, sitting next to you without the helmet. Maker, one second too late and you could’ve opened your eyes and—

“Didn’t see anything. Promise,” you say with a smile and pull his cape over your face. “Cover up.”

He pats around for the helmet (where the hell did he drop it last night?), finds it abandoned by your feet. When he fits it around his head, the familiar padding hugging his skull, he swears it feels heavier than it did yesterday.

“You decent?”

“Yeah.”

You lower the pseudo blanket, sleepy eyes and easy smile. As if you purposefully want to make it harder for him to strike up a conversation. But do I really need to— Yes. Yes, he does. He has to know where you stand and ask the big question: If you’d be willing to leave with him once the siege is lifted. Stars, his hands are sweating. But he can’t imagine you’d say no. Not after last night.

“Listen…”

As if on cue, whimpers and sniffles float from the closed pram. Great timing, kid. The baby’s ears droop like wilting leaves when Din places him on the ground, and the little bundle waddles with his eyes cast down until he reaches your ankle.

“What is it, kiddo?” you ask softly, your voice gentler than Din’s ever heard, sitting up as you hug his cloak tighter around your shoulders.

“I think…” Din begins, watching the baby sniffle and hug your bandaged calf. “I think he’s apologizing.”

A pair of eight-ball eyes blink at you, shiny with unshed tears, and Din feels an ache deep in his chest. This sweet little kid, all he’s been put through…

“Oh, don’t worry,” you coo, as one of your hands wriggles out the cloak and cradles the baby’s cheek. Your thumb brushes away a fat tear. “I’m tougher than your dad.” You wink at Din: Just kidding. But it’s true. Living in this planet for so long, all on your own. “Tough” is a survival skill for you, not a choice.

Also…dad. He should probably correct you. Din is not the kid’s real father, even though he’s caught himself thinking about the baby as his son once or twice, when he’s not too aware of his inner monologue. But he can’t bring himself to tell you the truth. Actually, he belongs to a race of wizards that I’ve been quested to deliver him to. Can’t adopt him if I’ll eventually give him up. Not when the kid’s shedding quiet tears into your leg and you’re doing your best to soothe him. Nevarro’s not child friendly, and Din can’t imagine you’ve got much practice with baby stuff, but he can tell you’re doing your best. And that’s enough to spread warmth through his chest.

What a troop you must make: Mandalorian bounty hunter, black market dealer, magic green baby. You could set up a three-person circus and retire. Yet the image tugs at a memory tucked away in his mind, something familiar but blurred.

His rumination’s cut short when Din notices the kid’s pudgy hands extending strategically on either side of your right leg, his eyelids beginning to flicker. Shit, shit, shit.

“She forgives you,” he tells the kid hastily as he scoops him and lays him on the open pram. He doesn’t need to be the little womprat’s real father to tell he was about to whip out his favorite party trick: healing witch powers. So far it doesn’t look like it permanently harms him, but it does weaken him, and Din can’t take chances. Plus, he skipped the part about the baby having supernatural powers when he told you his story, and there’s not a hell of a lot of ways one can explain fresh wounds disappearing.

“So,” you say after the baby’s settled in his pod. “What are we going to do,” you start, and Din’s throat knots with dread and excitement, “about the jammer.”

Oh. Stars, straight to business

“You said you have one.”

“I said I might have one,” you answer, grabbing for your discarded skirts. You fumble with them under the cloak, one hand clasped tight around it. It’s funny—after everything you’ve shared, you won’t undress in front of him during the day. “I mean, jammers aren’t picky like motors, they’re more one-size-fits-all.”

“But we still have to rewire it,” Din completes, wiping dry drool from the kid’s cheek with his thumb.

“Right.” Holding the cloak with your chin while you clasp your tunic, you seem to slowly draw your way out of a maze. That restless abacus in your head adding and subtracting. Your brows relax, and Din knows you’ve figured it out. “But I’ve got my equipment in my workshop, and we’d save time not having to remove it from a ship. And, no offense, but the Crest’s jammer was an antique. Way more complicated than newer models.” You finish dressing and hand him the cloak. “Only problem is the potential trooper stakeout outside the store.”

“I’ll take care of troopers.” Din takes the cloak and hesitates. It’s day nine, that time bomb still ticks in his head. Could it be that easy? Could you really do all this in one day? “What if we don’t finish on time?”

“Then,” you say, “we’ll figure something out.”

We, Din thinks, and smiles. Somehow, that’s all the reassurance he needs.

≈

Nevarro couldn’t look more deserted if tumbleweed rolled in the streets. The city’s a populated ghost town, no man’s land that’s filled with men. Well, men is a strong word. How did Viszla put it that time? We live hidden like sand rats. Yes, rats seems more fitting. Packs of them, scurrying around the former Covert, stealing Mandalorian armor to be bartered for scraps. Karga didn’t have to spell it out when he told him about people finding the Covert. Mando is familiar with the ways of the Outer Rim: Anything unclaimed is up for the taking, and beskar’s too tempting to resist. Knowing doesn’t make his blood boil any less, though. If Din focuses, he can almost hear their squeaking echoing from the sewers, the scavengers of this gray rock serving themselves to the abandoned armor of his people.

Movement to the left. The Mandalorian draws his blaster and bars you with his forearm, to see…a tunic. A short tunic. Tiny red lights. A Jawa. He exhales and sheathes the blaster. Stars. With the vembrance turned off, he has to rely on bare eyesight to scan for danger.

The Jawa drags a sleigh behind him. On it lies a dead or unconscious trooper (it makes no difference to these creatures), its gloved fingers drawing traffic lines on the mud and ash of unpaved streets. Red stars below the cowl focus on you for half a second, the bounty hunter’s hand approaches his blaster, and…

…and the Jawa waves at you, says “hello” in its squeaky language. You wave back, smiling, and the lump of shadow continues on its way. A neighborly gesture that in this context is plain bizarre.

“Old friend of yours?” Mando asks, walking again.

“Associate,” you correct, running a finger along the kid’s left ear until it twitches and he giggles. “Jawas scavenge parts straight from the wreckage, eliminate the middle man. And they don’t report to the New Republic.”

You mean steal from the wreckage, Din almost says, but bites it back. He supposes he can’t judge you for trading with Jawas. Prospects on the Outer Rim are bleaker than ever, and everyone’s got to eat. Especially during a siege.

Maker, sometimes he can’t believe he convinced himself to leave you here. Marooned in the type of place Core World citizens only talk about with shaking heads and disapproving voices. The type of place that makes people feel better about their lives, because hey, it could be worse, at least I don’t live in Nevarro. Granted, Din didn’t know then there’d be a siege. After the fight, after he bid goodbye to Cara and Karga, he hovered on the atmosphere for longer than was safe, gazing down at your store’s roof from the Razor Crest’s cockpit. His head a seesaw, weighing his options and unable to make a decision. You were still so close. He could fly back down to the surface, knock on your door, and take you away with him like he did with the kid.

Would you say yes? Reject him?

But most importantly: what about his quest? What kind of life would you lead travelling with him, a fugitive of the Empire and the New Republic? Life for Din has been defined by survival. Every day he’s had to get up and fight; fight to an inch of his life, fight with concussions, frostbite, shattered ribs. Knife wounds, blaster wounds. Personal wounds. He didn’t want that for you. You’re young, clever, resourceful. After that day, maybe you’d decide Nevarro was too dangerous. Maybe you’d pay your passage on a cruiser and start over in the Core Worlds, make your luck own there. Find a good man, if that’s what you wanted.

So he started the thrusters—the same ones he bought from you so long ago—and jumped into hyperspace with a semi clear conscience. This was best for everyone. You probably wouldn’t have accepted his offer, anyway. For five months he lived with his decision. And then he learnt about the siege.

In the sky, a string of river pearls forms a pattern like a necklace. Imperial cruisers, tie fighters, every ship that Guideon commands, solemnly presiding over Nevarro, itching to shoot down runaways. They’re too far up in the atmosphere to make out anyone in the surface, but Mando grabs your arm and coaxes you behind him all the same, his grip on the pram tighter. The memory of that imp’s blaster on your forehead is still too fresh. The dried blood on your legs.

Din glances back at you briefly. You catch his eye and smile—not grin, not smirk—but smile, a pretty, kind smile that would put to shame any of the imaginary Naboo girls you were so worked up about two nights ago. He should know, he’s been to Naboo, and none of the women there had your kaleidoscopic face, those hints of life that send his pulse on a sprint. The Mandalorian wonders what else you could be hiding under that sharp tongue, behind those clever eyes.

“Mando,” you call and point at a blackened mass to your right. “Nursery’s this way.”

All buildings in Nevarro emerge from volcanic rock, pushing away from clumps of hardened magma. They’re half-manmade, half-volcano hybrids—it’s a useful layout that gives their structure grip against constant earthquakes. It also, however, makes the buildings look like tumors growing on the navel of an ill planet. Your store’s the only one that’s never looked malignant, more like a sprouting flower than a parasite.

And now, the cantina too. Burned to a crisp, blacker than night, the former Church of Nevarro seems to have been swallowed by its unwilling host: the volcanic rock it was built upon. It’d be near impossible to know there’s a cantina inside, if not for the wide window peering inside. And it’s far from impossible for you or Mando, who know by heart where all the doors stand. He pushes one open for you, and together you walk inside.

“Thumb on the bottom, middle and ring fingers on the top, index to the side,” instructs Cara from behind the cantina’s crisp black counter. “The other side.”

Greef Karga sits on a stool opposite her, fumbling with a deck of cards. “Got it. Then what?”

“Then…” The veteran moves aside a flask of ardees and places a matching deck on the bar. “Pressure with your index, release the thumb.” She acts out her instructions and creates an arched ribbon spread on the surface. The Mandalorian can’t remember the last time he walked into the cantina and didn’t see the hypnotic patterns on cards, didn’t hear the wing-flapping noise of their shuffle. Although if he thinks about it, it makes sense that sabacc is the local sport around here. Dumb luck is the only god in the Outer Rim, where inhabitants gaze perpetually at their uncertain future and never look back. Tomorrow they’ll get a better hand, yesterday’s lost credits are forgotten. Everyone here seems to shed their past like snake skin.

“Nice spread, Dune,” you call. Greef and Cara follow your voice, realize they have visitors. “You should job hunt at Canto Bight.”

“Oh yeah?” replies the ex-shock trooper with an impish grin, both elbows on the counter and a rag over her shoulder, all bartender swagger. “What do you know about Canto Bight, hot stuff? Heard you’ve never been off this rock.” She spies a sly glance at Mando, enough to confirm that she’s annoying him on purpose, openly flirting with you. He squares his stance, rolls the helmet to pin her down with the visor, but (he really should know this by now) it does little to intimidate her.

“No trash talk before nightfall, ladies,” quips Karga, walking towards the pram. “And certainly not in front of babies. Hello, little one!” Said little one coos and lifts his skinny arms to be lifted by the Guild Leader, who sits back down delighted at having the baby’s favor, the little rascal on his lap. “He likes me!” Greef Karga smiles wide, flashing those white glinting teeth that’ve always reminded Din of a wolf’s. He’s not happy to leave the kid here, but he can’t take him if there’s a stakeout in your store. Beggars can’t be choosers and so on. But Cara’s here, and Din knows he can trust her with the baby. Though not with you, evidently.

“Tell you what, Mando,” Cara continues, apparently not done peacocking around you. “We arm wrestle, just like last time. Winner gets a flask of spotchka and the opportunity to take the lady to Canto Bight after you lift the siege.”

“Help us lift the siege and I’ll consider winning that flask.”

Dune lets out an long whistle, giving you a complicit look. “Big words.”

Your eyes rake along the Mandalorian’s armor slowly, boots to helmet, a dark tint in your eyes. Din flushes, the oppressive heat of his clothes suddenly thicker.

You shrug and answer, “Big man.” Your fingertips dance idly around the nape of your neck, which makes Mando think about last night, about his tongue on your neck and the purple bruises he sucked, the salty taste of flesh, the heady one between your legs. The memory steers blood into…into awkward places. Which, knowing you, was your intention. Maker, he needs to talk to you about teasing him in public.

“Help you how?” asks Greef, lifting the baby into the counter, whose six little claws hold on to two of his gloved fingers.

“Look after the kid, we won’t be more than a few hours.”

“Sure thing!” booms Karga, at the same time as Cara says, “Fuck no.”

You fold your arms at the veteran. “You scared of an infant, Dune? It’s only one of him, and…” you squint at the cantina’s black shell, like something’s out of place in its burned remains, “…two of you. Where’s—” you start, before glancing at Mando and swallowing the second half.

“Duma?” supplies Karga, tapping the corners of the deck on the counter. “Don’t know, probably boiling beskar to make broth. Rumor has it she’s running out of supplies, fast. Did you ever take her up on that deal?”

Your eyes shoot vibroblades at him, your mouth a flat line.

“What deal?” Mando asks.

“Nothing,” you reply, still glaring warnings at Karga, who sighs, shakes his head, and tickles the baby’s tummy. The kid giggles and kicks half the deck off the counter. “Nothing important. We should get going.”

Outside, you guide the Mandalorian through a maze of back alleys, the ugly underbelly of a planet that’s already the galaxy’s own underbelly. Mando glues a palm to his blaster’s grip, lifting it only as muscle memory to turn on the vembrance and activate the setting to scan footprints, frustrated when he remembers his own piece of equipment would immediately snitch on him. Yet you glade past dark corners that beg for their own knife-brandishing mugger with the grace of someone frolicking in D’Qar’s moorlands, postcard-calm.

Once in your store’s backdoor, the Mandalorian ventures a glance at the front street. Empty. Like the rest of the city, it’s like curfew was declared, not an imp in sight. Certainly not a stakeout in process. Behind him, you push the door open, the busted security panel no more than a prop to discourage robbers.

“What?” you ask when he doesn’t walk inside.

“There’s nobody here,” he answers, studying the connecting alleys like a web of arteries, waiting for a trooper squadron to materialize and ambush you.

“It’s quiet too quiet?” you tease with a lopsided grin. “Lay off the thrillers, Mando. Come on.”

You step inside, he hesitates. “Could be a trap.”

Hands on the doorframe, leaning forward, your face almost touches the helmet. “Then you’ll shoot them and we’ll be back to square one. Not much of a choice here, Mando.” Those pretty eyes, your shining, wet lips. It’s a siren’s call he knows he shouldn’t answer.

The Mandalorian follows you inside.

It takes him a moment to recognize his surroundings.

Your store hibernates in the dark, stale air floating around its vault. Your store, which used to buzz with drills and neon lights and life around the clock, looms like a beast’s hollow belly, crypt-still. Lights off and furniture wrapped in sheets, it looks abandoned, the way all those family houses in deserted villages were hastily vacated during the war. He wonders how long you’ve been out of business because of the siege. Because of him.

You walk across the reception in tomb silence. In the reception signs hang next to the front desk—store policies that gave Mando more than one headache—dark and colorless, like they turned in their badges and no longer preside over this place. Only “NO IMPS” twitches, one or two agonizing flashes of neon green, before it shuts down like its colleagues. Six rules in total, although in Din’s opinion there’s a seventh that foregoes the need of a sign: “NO QUESTIONS”.

That’s a rule that everyone in Nevarro—bounty hunter or not—subscribes to. It’s the rule you followed when the Mandalorian walked into your store, still crafting some half-assed excuse about thrusters when he came face to face (helmet to face?) with you. You never asked about New Republic guidelines or what he wanted them for. Not even for his name. No questions when he came back two weeks later. No questions as weeks passed and then months, as tension thickened between you until his internal barometer cracked.

No questions when his thinning resolve broke one night. That night. He pushed you onto your workbench, you undid each other’s belts, pawed at each other’s sides. No questions when he slid into your wet heat, when he had to stop for a second to avoid a heart attack. No questions when he finished inside you, blood roaring in his ears, your sighs clouding his visor, your hand gently pushing him back.

And then, his question: “Where are you going?”

“Upstairs,” you answered, pulling your trousers back around your hips.

It dropped on his head like freezing water. Upstairs. Upstairs to your apartment, to rest. Alone. Meaning your encounter was a one-night stand, a shortcut to let off some steam. Stars, you were basically swinging the front door wide open for him, putting away a couple of wrenches and switching off the lights to signal the night was over. The Mandalorian didn’t need questions to know he’d overstayed his visit.

But…what if he’d spent the night anyway? Maybe the next morning he would’ve been upfront with you, confess he’d wanted you for so long and that he wanted it to evolve past one furtive encounter, that he wanted it to be real. No, he probably wouldn’t have. As a bounty hunter—as Mandalorian—there are things he simply can’t have. Things that are better off unspoken, better off—

“Tucked away,” you say behind him, making the Mandalorian jump.

“What?”

“The planner.” You walk behind the front desk. “I was saying I don’t remember leaving it here. I thought it was tucked away in some box.”

Oh.

It is strange. A light sheen of dust covers the counter, yet the planner is glossy clean, a painted depiction of the Manarai Mountains on its cover. A souvenir from Coruscant. He wonders who brought you that. It tugs at something sweet but sad in his chest, the fact that you have to rely on others’ cheap souvenirs to explore the galaxy. That’ll change as soon as this mess with the siege is settled.

You flip through the planner, empty for the most part but for a few scribbles on the first pages. It’s dated 5 ABY, four years ago. The Mandalorian knows from experience that your appointment rule works mostly to turn away unsavory clients. Or to get on his nerves.

“Look at that,” you murmur as if reading his mind, your finger pointing at nothing on a page. “You don’t have an appointment, Mando.”

“We don’t have time for this,” he answers, though he knows he’ll make time for it anyway. It used to drive him up the wall whenever you refused to see him using that stupid excuse. But, as with everything with you, it was more complicated than that. It took longer than he’s willing to admit to understand that it was a game. That you liked him riled up, after the push and pull, the hot and cold, the challenge. You had a taste for difficulty. Although it didn’t take as long to figure out that he liked it too. “Just let me in.”

“I don’t know,” you drawl, glancing at the dull signs on the wall. “Rules are rules.”

The Mandalorian has played this game with you enough to know what you want. He thinks of all those memories in this building. You, pinned between his armor and the doorframe; him, sitting on that battered couch upstairs with your hands on his knees. Even those calm nights, when you’d only sit and talk and make him laugh, and sometimes he’d get a laugh from you too, if he didn’t try too hard. All the sweating and the panting and the talking that these walls have witnessed. Maybe there’s time for one last memory before you both leave this planet for good. Not maybe—there’s definitely time. If this were an ambush, you’d be dodging blaster shots by now.

“So bend the rules,” he says slowly, gripping his edge of the counter and dropping his voice to the low register that gives you goosebumps. “For me.”

Your eyes twinkle like copper at the fact that he’s playing along. “And what do I get in return?”

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. “Whatever you want.” Perhaps he’s known for a while, in the back of his head where he could ignore it, but last night the idea rushed to his front lobe. He’ll give you anything you want.

“I want…” you begin, mischief shining in your eyes, before a shadow clouds them. Slowly, your face goes soft, a special kind of longing in your pupils. You swallow, your voice becomes throaty, and the words sound truer than anything Din’s ever heard: “I want you. I just want you.”

He almost trips on his feet when he rounds the counter, his head already swimming. The hunter crowds you with his body, backs you up against the counter until you’re caged and looking up at him, hooded eyes and parted lips. Hot stuff. Cara’s shallow pet name. When he heard it he thought it was inappropriate. But now. As your mouth nestles on his clothed neck and breathes hot, damp air through the fabric—a mild sensation for most people, he guesses, but almost a mating call for him—he realizes it’s not untrue. The name fits you like a glove, hot stuff. It’s just…incomplete. If he’s learnt anything these nine days is that there’s so much more to you, enough sailor knots of emotion and personality inside you to loop around the galaxy if unraveled.

“Touch me,” you breathe, rubbing up against him, searching friction. “Please, please, touch me. There’s nobody here, we—we have time.”

Gloved palms on your waist, down to your hips, lower to your ass, Din tries to fondle you as best he can. He pins you between the counter and his hips, your leg curls around his back and holds him closer. His erection starts to bulge against your belly, your breaths start quickening, your hearts start pumping faster. The tell-tale signs that indicate you’re both ready to go hit all their usual beats. But something’s missing. There’s a step you’re skipping, something…something he’s not doing right.

Tentatively, you press a small kiss on his covered neck, and he can only feel its frustrating whisper, a promise of more.

A lightbulb flicks on.

Mando holds your hips and spins you around, the desk’s edge on your waist. “Bend over,” he grouses next to your ear, his voice sand-coarse. “Don’t turn around.”

Gloves off first. One palm cradles the back of your neck, feels you shiver. His left hand runs down your back and around to your tummy, savoring all those warm, secret places on you, the way your body opens up to him on instinct. The power trip when he cups your heat through your skirts and you moan into the counter. You nestle your hips on his lap, and he stiffens on command, a tug between his legs that he knows is far too insistent for foreplay. Stars, it’s like he’s conditioned to get hard in this store.

“Don’t—” he chokes out “—not so fast. Or I—I won’t—”

“What?” you pant. Din hears the grin laced in your voice and knows it’s bad news for him. He drops to his knees and both hands walk up your bandaged calves, squeeze the tops of your thighs. “You…you don’t…” He throws your skirts over your back. You inhale sharply at the cold air—or at his hands pulling the soft flesh of your backside. When he removes the helmet, your pitch sounds broken up, more desperate. “You d-don’t want…”

It’s a small victory when he parts his lips against your clothed core and it’s you, for once, who chokes on words. Small victory, but he’ll take it, especially after the way his cock twitches in his pants when he smells you. He kisses you again, just a peck over your clit, and your legs shake. Fucking…stars. If this is how you feel when you tease him…well, he gets it. You mewl and push back on his face, but he hardly thinks you want it that easy.

“Stop moving,” he tells you sternly, with a voice he’d use on quarries.

A shiver runs down your spine. “But—” You break into a whine when his open palm slaps the side of your thigh. It’s probably the surprise rather than the sting that makes you inhale sharply, and a combination of both that dampens the cotton between your legs.

“Stop moving,” he repeats, mouth pressed against your core so you can feel the vibration; that, he learnt from you. “Or you don’t get my mouth.”

Above him, you let out a displeased little grunt, too throaty to mean much. But you open your legs wider and brace yourself on the front desk, grant him full access to you. His index hooks on your underwear, moves it aside, and he buries his lips deep into the softest part of you. Din barely hears you gasp. He circles both arms around your thighs and pulls you closer, until his tongue is buried between your folds and you just have to take it. Fuck, it’s just…decadent. The taste, the smell, how soaked you are already, your little purrs and whimpers when he sucks on your lips. They’re not things he ever thought he’d get to feel. He doesn’t deserve any of it.

“Mmm, stars, Mando,” you sob, sneakily rutting your hips like you just can’t help it. He allows it, but only because he’s so rock fucking hard he’s practically doing the same thing. His cock trapped down one pant leg, he squeezes his thighs to try and soothe the ache. “Move—move up a b-bit.”

“No,” he grunts, and licks a slow line from the spot right below your clit to the back of your slit. It wasn’t so long ago that it was your mouth on him, you teasing him mercilessly inside this very store, him moaning and grunting and losing his mind. That’s how he wants you: sloppy, desperate, begging.

“Maker, don’t t-tease,” you moan, but it only encourages him. His tongue slides deep inside you where you’re hotter than sin, enjoying how your walls swell and tighten around it. You’re so fucking wet, he could push into you right now and relieve the pressure building between his legs. But not yet.

“Beg me,” Din groans, mouthing at the inside of your thighs and sucking tiny bruises there. You moan above him, deep in your throat, and he wonders which one of you is more turned on right now. “Put—fuck—put that smart mouth to use. Beg me.”

For a moment all he can hear is your labored breathing, the wheels turning in your pretty head, laying out a plan to make him give in faster. Then, soft and sweet, you hum, “Mando.”

One word. Probably the word Din hears the most, so generic and impersonal that everyone from friends to strangers to enemies call him that. That word coming from your lips makes his heart sprint, his cock pulse and scream at him to hurry up. Stars, but if it was his name—his real name—on your lips, soft and purring like you pronounced his nickname, he knows he wouldn’t be able to hold back a second longer.

“You always make me feel so good,” you continue, arching your back a little to test the waters. “You’re so—so good with your mouth, stars. Want you to kiss me again—kiss me everywhere. Taste me like yesterday—” Your breath catches when he sucks on your inner lips again, closer to where you want him. Maker, if you keep talking like that… “Used to th-think about it all the time, how—mmm—how your—your tongue would feel. Never, ngh, never thought you’d use it th-there, though.” Din laps at your cunt, drinks from it. Fuck, he can’t remember the last time he got this hard. An airy laugh before you continue. “You can be so d-dirty sometimes. I’d let you do—do anything to me.”

Really, Din doesn’t know what pushes him to do it. He doesn’t know what makes him pull back and spread you open with his fingers, stare at your glistening, deliciously swollen folds, and spit at their very top. You moan raggedly above him, a complete mess of sobs and whimpers, as Din simply stares. He watches the trail of spit run down your slit, the lower it goes the more precum he feels sticking to his trousers. Half-drunk on your words and your slick, Din thinks: What did you do to me? Maker, you have him wrapped around your finger.

Saliva trails down until it teardrops on your clit, clings to it, and he doesn’t need another sign. His lips latch on to your bundle of nerves and suck. You sob and whine and cry, rocking your hips hard against his mouth, and he continues sucking through his teeth. Your knees give out, but he holds them before you can hit the ground, holds you in place as he feels you give him everything, your pussy clenching around nothing. Slick trails down his chin, all the way to his neck, and—shit. He’s going to burst in his pants just from feeling you cum in his mouth.

It takes every last ounce of self-control he has left to detach his lips from your cunt and stumble to his feet. You’re still shaking, still panting, but he can’t hold it back a minute longer. Fuck, not even a second longer, he needs to have you right now.

It’s a struggle to get a hold of his fly, fingers trembling and teeth grinding. When he finally pulls the zipper down, the sound snaps your head up.

“Are you—Mando, are you going to—”

“Yes,” he grunts, digging into his waistband for his cock, lining it up against your cunt. Stars, he’s so pent up, it hurts to touch it. “Is it—is it o-okay, can—can, I—”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you mewl, pushing your hips so tightly against his groin the head of his cock catches against your entrance. Fuck. “Please, please, please, put it inside, let me feel your big, thick, co—”

One hard shove, deep enough that he feels himself poke your cervix, and he’s cumming—hard. His spine doubles over and he grunts and moans into your hair, giving you short, stunted thrusts as he fills you to the brim. You were already so swollen before, now you feel unbearably tight, squeezing his cock so harshly his eyes roll back on his skull. And his balls keep pulling up and giving you more of his load, his teeth grinding so hard they might crack. One last thrust, nice and deep so his cum stays inside you, and his palm presses down on your eyes. Din uses that hand as leverage to turn you around and tilt your head like you showed him, just enough so he can reach your lips. And he kisses you.

Your bodies spasm and throb against each other, you clench around him involuntarily and he flinches, too sensitive to handle the aftershocks of your orgasm. Still, he could stay like this for days. Gently sucking on your tongue, running his along the roof of your mouth, feeling how your lips curve against his in a smile. Then, an alarming thought. Maybe this is the only way to do it that feels right now—sex, he means. With the helmet off, his lips on yours, his nose on your hair. Bare hands drawing circles on your hips. Every sense devoted to you. Even the briefest taste can be a point of no return.

You peck his lips and flutter sweet, short kisses around his jaw, working your way up to his ear, where you whisper, “We’re running out of time.”

The jammer. Those words are quickly becoming the bane of his existence. “I know,” he whispers back, but presses one last, long kiss to your lips that feels inexplicably sad, like a kiss goodbye. Din shakes the thought off his head. He’s too pessimistic sometimes.

You both hiss when he pulls out, slowly so he won’t hurt you.

“Keep ‘em closed,” he tells you before removing his hand from your eyes. For all he knows you could open them right there, and there’d be nothing he could do about it. Somehow, however, he’s certain you won’t. His trust is rewarded when he pulls the hand back, and your eyes are screwed shut beneath it.

It takes an awkward choreography to straighten yourselves. You try to pull your own underwear back on, but in your position it’s near impossible. So Din kneels behind you once more, fishes his helmet from the floor, tucks himself back into his trousers, and lifts your panties until they hug your hips. You push your own skirts down before Din’s upright, which results in the long fabric covering him like your furniture. You share a quick laugh before standing straight and facing each other.

“You can open them.”

Now, he tells himself, watching your sated smile and blinking eyes. The words are on the tip of his tongue: When this is over, would you like to come with me—

“If there’s a jammer here,” you say, before he can get a word out, “it’s in the workshop.”

You walk around him and open a door behind the reception desk to reveal the staircase that leads to your apartment. Din’s still telling himself that he’ll just ask you later, when you climb one step—and stop. You turn around like you can sense he’s about to ask, for the second time in this store, where you’re going.

“Gotta get some stuff from upstairs, but I’ll be down in a second.” Your voice wobbles, your foot hesitates on the step. You’re nervous. “But if you find the jammer before I come back, don’t…don’t leave.”

“Of course not.” Maker, of course he wouldn’t leave without you. Do you really think he would?

The workshop is darker than the reception. A single window, currently boarded up, so he has to use the helmet’s light. The cone of white light creates a sinister effect, like creatures lurk everywhere it doesn’t touch. Rubber tubes hang from the ceiling like lianas, circuit boards glimmer green like leaves, and yellow sensors blink from several components. Your own little ecosystem watches him dig into boxes of clutter to search for a jammer. Stars, he’s never known how you manage to find anything here. It’s probably best if he waits outside; he wouldn’t be able to find his own ship in here without you.

He’s turning to the door when the helmet’s light catches on a dark glint, like it reflected on a mirror. It stops him on his tracks. Din’s not sure what prompts his feet to carry him toward your worktable, where the mystery item lays center-front. He sees himself reflected on the dark T-visor. It’s a helmet. It’s a blue Mandalorian helmet.

At first he’s confused. Surprised to see a Mandalorian helmet here—and is it even a Madalorian helmet? Yes, yes it is. His brain lags behind his eyes, goes through different scenarios, each less likely than the last.

Is there another Mandalorian here? Did the Alor bring this? Is the Alor a client?

And then, truth.

It falls abruptly on his back like atmospheric pressure, gravity that crushes. A hot rush of blood enveloping his head, poisoning his thoughts, a ringing in his ears so sharp he thinks he might pass out. A million thoughts in less than a second—convoluted, scrambled, furious. Then an image, so clear that the Maker himself might’ve played it for him like a holo: Thieves, scammers, criminals scurrying through the tunnels of the Covert, the empty halls where his people built a refuge, where they could feel safe. The pile of beskar armor unguarded—the high price that brave Mandalorians paid to help Din, help the child—served in a silver platter for these scavengers, these fucking honorless lowlifes.

His gloved fingers grip your worktable so hard his knuckles might crack—or the table. But the Mandalorian can’t feel the pain on his joints, not when his bloodstream’s turned to acid, when it feels like somebody jammed live wires into his head.

This fucking place. This planet with its fucking people, their fucking cynicism, this fucking landfill for hazardous waste, this piece of shit skughole—

Above, the Mandalorian hears footsteps. Your footsteps. You.

He looks down at the helmet, the empty T-visor limp and black, dead. You did this. Thinking of you clears the red cloud from his mind, trades it for a gray one. A headache creeps behind his eyes, his shoulders go slack. He feels hollowed out. Like a spoon reached inside his chest and scooped away everything essential, left him a carcass. Like something died here today.

You did this.

And then the helmet is not a helmet, but a severed head. A head with a pool of blood around it, guts sprayed all over, and there’s the corrupt smell of blaster residue coming from his neighbor’s house, the taste of copper after biting his tongue running, the durasteel giants shooting red death, the deafening explosions, his parents’ screams, his school going up in a cloud of smoke, his father holding him, whispering one last sentence that he can’t hear through the sounds of war and carnage, his mother’s cheeks stained with tears and dirt and blood, their blurring faces, the darkness, the fear.

Holding the helmet, Din feels tears sting in the corners of his eyes, then hot on his cheeks. Nobody understands, why can’t anybody understand? The warrior that owned this helmet is lost forever, condemned to live like a phantom, empty without the Creed, without the Way. It’s worse than death. It’s the curse that most of the Covert was forced to carry, to walk this galaxy like living dead, violently stripped of everything that mattered. And the relic of their sacrifice sits in your workshop next to the rest of your junk, ready to be sold off to the highest bidder, somebody who’ll want to hang it in their wall like game they hunted, and how could you do this to him, how could you, how could you do this—

“Find anything yet?”

When the Mandalorian turns, his helmet’s white light locks you in place like quarry. Like guilty quarry.

You squint and raise a palm to shut out the bright beam. “Stars, Mando,” you laugh. “Are you trying to blind me? Turn that off.”

Your words are muffled by the rushing blood that wraps around his ears, loud as a waterfall, but he can understand them. The Mandalorian grips the helmet tighter between his hands and keeps the light on so you can see what he found, what he knows about you. The ugly, festered truth about you.

Once your eyes adjust to the bright light and they’re able to stay open for more than three seconds, you give him a quizzical look. The visor gives you nothing, so you drop your gaze to the hard evidence between his hands.

And you have the nerve to look even more surprised. Furrowed eyebrows and everything to add to the performance.

“Where did you get that?” you ask.

A thousand responses climb into his head in a savage, foul clutter, like army ants. I should ask you the same, where do you think?, how much are they giving you?, was it worth it?, what’s wrong with you?, what’s wrong with this fucking planet? He opens his mouth, but they swarm in his throat all at once and tie a knot around his windpipe. More tears on his cheeks, another attempt at words—nothing.

Finally, quietly: “How could you do this to me?”

The crease between your brows digs deeper, and there’s genuine worry in your eyes. Of course you’re worried, he just caught you red fucking handed. “Mando, I really don’t understand—”

“Me neither,” he hisses through his teeth, “because this is a Mandalorian helmet, and you’re no Mandalorian.” The first insect out, the rest follow like a waterfall, crawling out his mouth. “How long did you wait after I left to steal this from the Covert? An hour? Five minutes?”

Trapped under the light, where you can no longer hide in shadows, you look stricken. The harsh light shines on circles under your eyes, creases where you frown. Bleak features he never noticed before.

Your voice is low and icy when you say, “I never stole anything from the Covert.”

“Scavenge, loot, I don’t care what you people like to call it.” How could you, after everything, how could you.

“Listen to me,” you say steadily, but your eyes are hot coals and your jaw is set, your own anger rising. Good. Masks off. He wants to see who’s been hiding under his noses these nine days. All those fucking months. “I didn’t take a thing from the Covert. I have no idea where that helmet came from.”

The Mandalorian is barely listening. He’s heard more than enough lies for two lifetimes, he sure as fuck doesn’t need yours. Instead, he focuses on the one thought that manages to float in the red sea of anger and despair. He holds on to it like an anchor, clutches it until his palms bleed, but truth hurts.

“Duma.” He doesn’t ask this time around—he tells you. He knows and there’s nothing you can do about it—nothing he can do about it. Greef Karga’s words shine painful light on fog. Boiling beskar…did you take her up on that deal? “You’re selling it to her.”

“Stars, of course not.” The stoniness of your features melts for an instant, hurt revealed underneath those layers. You look devastated, tired. Maker, you’re good. Those hours of sabacc are sure paying off. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“How can I believe you?” he snarls, his head suffocating in dark quicksand—grief, anger, betrayal all clogging his nostrils, making his head throb. How could you how could you how could you. “When I know what type of people sprout from this planet, I make a living hunting them. I know you—” his voice breaks, but the words keep flowing and he hardly hears them “—I know the kind of company you keep, I know you have no principles, I know you can’t commit to shit—”

“Commit?” you snap, face hardening cold and twisted like the magma outside, but he knows too well what lies beneath the surface. Lava, hot and bubbling, your anger as raw as his. Rawer. “You wanna talk about commitment? I waited for you for five months!” The light from the helmet no longer makes you squint, but it turns your eyes red and watery. “You left. You left me here to starve through a fucking siege that you caused—”

“I came back for you!”

That gives you pause. Then you shake your head. “No, you came back because that piece of shit official asked—”

“He asked to meet me in Belderone.” Belderone, same sector as Nevarro, not even ten minutes away in hyperspace. “Told me Nevarro wasn’t safe because there was a siege, so I insisted we meet here.” The memory drains him. How worried he was about you, the type of worried that stirs bile in the stomach. How guilty he felt. “To see you again. Make sure you were okay.” The Mandalorian looks down at the helmet in his hands, a strange mirror staring up at him. Harsher than the one from this morning. His ears ring, his mouth tastes sour, his rising headache plateaus into an unbearable, incessant throb. A ghost limb aches somewhere in his body, all over it. He wants to leave your store, your planet.

How could you?

Mando doesn’t raise his head to look at you when he walks out the workshop. You don’t stop him when he reaches the main door. You don’t stop him when he walks out to the street.

The sky is jaundice-yellow when he steps outside. Gone are this morning’s blue hues, suffocated by the sickly coughing of a million volcanos, by their fumaroles and their sparks. For all the Mandalorian cares, this planet can burn.

On his way to the cantina to pick up the kid, he stares at the marker that identifies the entrance to the city: that crooked, arthritis-ridden arch. Beyond it, he spots the outline of a ship. A sleek civilian shuttle, probably a rental. The official isn’t stupid enough to fly a Republic starship past siege lines, so if the tiny shuttle fooled Guideon’s platoon in the atmosphere, well, it’ll have to do it again. Tomorrow, they’ll just have to tempt fate and avoid tempting the batallion of Imperial cruisers. Or fly out in the Crest and hope they can jump into hyperspace before imps pulverize them. All he wants is to put as many lightyears between him and this planet.

Din’s head pounds when he walks inside the cantina. The only thought hammering against his skull: How could you.

…………

Edit: Chapter 5…’tis the end

Taglist: @rosetophighlander @hellomothermoon @newyorksins @leo-moon @benedrylcumbersnatch @corrupt-fvcker @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @multifandomlife22 @justanotherblonde23 @abysshaven @equalstrashflavoredtrash @16boyfriends-and-me @ihaveashield @dinispunk @bananaagurl @mstgsmy @absurdthirst @cowboy-kylo @roxypeanut @heyitmelexie @readsalot73 @krazykatkay456 @elusive-danger-noodle @lola-wolf @nikkiparthena @lifeisapitch15 @teaofpeach @auty-ren @anewrule @hyp-oh-critical​ @pascaliprincess​ @geannad​ @coaaster​ @frietiemeloen​ @yourbucky084​ @brynnstudies​ @elfwoodfae​

im pretty sure i forgot someone so please message me if i did!

#the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando smut #mando x reader #mando x you #mywriting #rule maker rule breaker

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 6

AN: And it all comes to an end....

Overall Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: An attack in Manhattan brings the gang back together for their final fight against Karli. (Based on S1 EP6)

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4) (PART 5)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 3,897 

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 6, Violence, some strong language, fluff

“Hello?” You put the phone on speaker as you answered it. 

“I got a hit.” Sam informed you. You looked towards Bucky who had just put both your bags down by the couch. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“Karli’s in New York. I think they’re gonna hit the GRC meeting.” 

“Makes sense.” Bucky tilted his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. 

“Right. We’ll suit up and meet you there?” You moved toward your bag to get your things. 

“With these new wings, I may even beat you.” You could practically hear Sam’s smirk through the phone. You hung up and immediately started to change. 

By the time you were kitted up and ready to go, the news had announced the GRC meeting had gone into a complete lockdown. 

“Guess Sam was right.” You switched off the tv and picked up your final knife. 

To get you down to the building quickly, you hijacked a motorbike. When you arrived there were swarms of news anchors and cops. 

You dismounted the bike and headed to the front of the crowds. 

“I’m almost there.” Sam’s voice came through on your coms. 

“What’s the plan?” Bucky asked as he walked beside you. 

“Karli’s gotta be close. Keep your eyes open.” Sam ordered. Your eyes began to search the surrounding areas. 

“Well, it could be anybody.” Bucky mumbled. He was right. Karli had a huge following, she didn’t even need to be here but you were praying she would be. 

“And by the way, I called in some backup.” Sam informed you both. 

Then, at that moment, a stranger approached the both of you. 

“Excuse me, sir. Are you supposed to be here?” The man asked before reaching to his face and removing the illusion mask. “It’s me.” Sharon was revealed underneath. 

“Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” You asked, looking around to see if anyone had been watching. 

“Relax. No one’s looking for me here.” Sharon assured you both. 

“Is that Sharon?” Sam had recognised her voice over the coms.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky retorted. 

“Hey, Sam. I thought I’d get the band back together.” Sharon made herself known to him. 

“Thank you. You’re risking a lot coming here.” Sam thanked her. 

“I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.” Sharon tried making light of her being back whilst still being a fugitive. 

“Depends on the therapist.” Bucky proclaimed. You ignored the comment as you continued to survey the scene. 

“They’ll move on the building soon. Be ready.” Sam warned you as he grew closer. And he was right. Within the building, gas was let off which set off a panic. The building had to be evacuated. 

“(Y/n), Bucky, what’s going on on your end?” Sam had entered the building through the window where the hostages were being ushered towards the stairs. 

“Nothing. All quiet.” Bucky told Sam. 

“No one’s moving toward the building.” You added as you patrolled alongside Sharon and Bucky. 

“Karli’s not coming in. She’s trying to force everybody out.” Sam had realised Karli’s plan. You looked between Bucky and Sharon. Time for you to go in. yourselves. 

“You guys are gonna have to do something.” Sam’s voice came through as you entered the doors.  “Don’t let ’em out of the building.”

“Oops.” Sharon said after realising you just let out several people.

“There’s one of em.” Bucky pointed across the building to an impressively large guard. “I’ll get the evac.” 

“I’m with Bucky.” You followed Bucky towards the stairwell. 

As you were just around to reach the stairs, a woman came forward with a phone. 

“Mr. Barnes, it’s Karli.” She handed the phone over to Bucky. 

“I’ll go.” You let him take the call and continued to pursue the hostages. 

You reached the underground parking lot in time to see the hostages being loaded up into police trucks. 

You knew you couldn’t take on all the guards at once and you’d only cause a panic with the hostages, forcing them to run off in different directions and you weren’t even sure which guards were Karli’s and which were the GRCs. 

You clocked the large guard from before that Sharon was meant to have gone after. He was applying some sort of lock onto the back of the trucks. 

As the final guards climbed into the trucks, you took your shot. You silently ran up behind the large man and forced yourself up onto his back, your hands grabbing onto the guards face. He cried out as he threw you off but the connection was just enough to use your powers. 

You fell to the floor, his memories tunnelling through your head like a bullet. He sent his boot into your stomach several times before leaving you. The trucks had already driven away and you remained on the floor so he didn’t bother with killing you. 

You searched his memories for Karli’s plan. 

“Sam.” You wheezed. “I know what Karli is planning to do.” 

“What? How?” Sam responded through your ear piece, sounding concerned. 

“She used her powers.” Sharon piped up. You looked around the garage to see her hiding behind a large concrete pillar with her eyes on the guard. 

“I’m sending you the coordinates for their rendezvous now.” You typed over the coordinates on your arm pad. 

Bucky finally made it down to you and helped you from the floor. 

“You can’t fight anymore. You gotta sit this one out.” Bucky told you as the look of exhaustion was obvious on your face. 

“Shut up and get moving.” You weren’t having any of it. You moved towards the bikes and Bucky climbed on in front. 

You pulled out a small syringe from the inside of your jacket and Bucky cocked an eyebrow at it. 

“In case of emergencies, right?” You stabbed the syringe into your thigh and injected the serum. It was a serum that Bruce Banner had worked on with you for these dire times. It gave you enough energy after using your powers to allow you to fight again. There were only a handful of them and the come down afterwards was worse than anything you had experienced but it kept you in the game when you needed it most. 

Bucky set off on route to the hostages. 

You gripped onto him tightly as he sped through the alleys and roads. 

“You better speed things up, Sam. The choppers about to take off.” You heard Sharon warn Sam. 

“Bucky?” Sam called out through the coms.

“I don’t fly, man. That’s your thing.” Bucky wasn’t going to be any help now that he was almost at the rendezvous point anyway.

You spotted the trucks up ahead along with large concrete road blocks. 

“Drop me here.” You told Bucky as you were far enough away for them to not have seen you yet. Bucky did as he was told before speeding off ahead. 

You ran down the sidewalk to keep yourself hidden. The flag smashers should be too busy dealing with Bucky to realise you were going after the trucks. 

You reached one of the trucks only to find it the locks were impenetrable. It then didn’t take long for one of the super soldiers to find you. You ducked as she sent her fist towards you. You pulled out your knives, one in each hand, and began to attack. 

Suddenly, a fire rose beside the truck. 

“Bucky!” You shouted out as you fought. You knew only he could open those doors with his strength and his arm. 

The soldier managed to get a grip on your shoulder and tossed you across the street like a pillow. You groaned as your body collided with the concrete. 

“Morgenthau!” You recognised the voice as it cried out Karli’s name. It was Walker. 

You pushed yourself to your feet and ran back over to the fight. Bucky was desperately trying to open the doors to the truck and John had started to attack Karli. 

You lunged forward as John hit the floor, surrounded by the soldiers. 

One broke away to fight you. 

You growled and grunted as you brought forth all the power you had in you to fight the soldier. 

Bucky had saved the hostages inside the burning truck and had come through to help John also. 

You grew distracted when you witnessed Bucky falling into the building site. 

The soldier took advantages of your loss of focus and managed to put you to the floor with a solid punch to the side of your head. 

You vision went spotted and blurred and your head pounded as you lulled on the ground. You were unsure of how long you were lying there when you felt someone take your arm and drag you along the concrete towards one of the trucks. 

Karli pulled the drivers door open and shoved you into the passenger seat before climbing in herself. She reached across you and crushed the handle so you couldn’t get out. 

Your vision began to clear just as Karli threw herself from the vehicle. 

The truck crashed through the gates and down onto the scaffolding. You clung onto the seat as you leant back to stop the truck from moving any further forward. 

“Stay calm!” You snapped at the screaming hostages but the truth was you weren’t feeling calm yourself.

You could see Bucky beneath you.

 It was one high drop. 

You wouldn’t survive this fall. Not sitting in the front. Not at this height with the weight of this machinery. 

“Fuck.” You cussed under your breath as your heart thudded against your chest. Bucky could see you inside and he felt his whole body tremble. 

You locked your eyes with his. You didn’t want to go. You only just got him back. 

Suddenly, the truck shifted again but this time it was being dragged backwards. You glanced to the side view mirror to see John trying to save you. 

You couldn’t help but gasp when the flag smashers tore him away from the truck. They all tumbled down to the pit. You squeezed your eyes shut as the truck rolled forward again. 

You were thrown forward onto the glass of the windshield when the truck abruptly stopped.

You opened your eyes to see that Sam had finally made it. 

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?” You let out a shaky laugh as relief washed over you. 

 Sam managed to get the truck up safely. You escaped through the drivers door and embraced him. 

“Looking good.” You smiled at the suit. Sam only winked before taking you down to Karli. 

He threw the shield, hitting each flag smasher as he put you down. 

“You of all people bought into that bullshit?” Karli looked beyond betrayed at Sam’s new look. 

 “I’m trying something different. Maybe you should do the same.” Sam retorted. 

Just as you went to step forward, smoke bombs were sent down on top of you. It gave Karli the chance to get away. 

Fortunately, Sam could use his goggles to track them. 

“Hey, Sharon. We’re underground. We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.” Sam informed Sharon on your position as you all made your way through the tunnel. “Looks like they split up. Here.” Sam stopped at an intersection. 

John took off without a word. Bucky looked back at you and Sam. 

“I got it.” He sighed before following. 

“I’ll head this way. Don’t hesitate to call if you need me.” You broke off in the opposite way to Bucky and John whilst Sam went up ahead.  You kept your guard up as you silently made your way around the place. It was like a maze and you had kept running into dead ends. 

You cussed as you wished you had the app for the flag smashers in order to receive any news. It was the only way them and you would know the new meet up point. 

“(Y/n), we found Karli’s team.” Bucky sent you the location. You hesitated to follow as a bad feeling began to seep into you. “(Y/n)?” Bucky questioned if you could hear him.

“On my way.” You replied, ultimately deciding to join back with Bucky, ignoring your instinct.

When you reached Bucky and Walker, the soldiers had been apprehended. 

“Good job, boys.” You congratulated them. “Sam? Any news?” You asked over the coms. 

“I’ve got Karli. She didn’t make it.” Sam’s news made your stomach drop.

Karli didn’t make it. She didn’t make it.

“Hey, come here.” Bucky pulled you into his chest after he saw your face drain of colour. All that was playing through your head was the girl’s memories of Karli. Karli playing with the children, her smile, her laughter, her passion. 

You forced them from your mind as you made your way to the surface. Ambulances, cop cars and the press had all moved location from the GRC meeting to there. 

Your eyes followed everyone’s gaze as Sam came into view. 

He flew down to the ground with Karli’s body in his arms. 

You felt Bucky slide his fingers down your wrist and take your hand, squeezing it tightly. 

When Sam’s feet touched the ground he was ambushed with questions from reporters. He approached the senators without answering any of them. 

He was thanked by them before he asked about the relocating plans.

“Our peacekeeping troops will begin relocating people soon.” He was told. 

“The terrorists only set us back a bit––”

“––Stop calling them terrorists.” Sam interrupted

“What else would we call them?” They questioned. 

“Your peacekeeping troops carrying weapons are forcing millions of people into settlements around the world, right? What do you think those people are gonna call you? These labels, “terrorists,” “refugee,” “thug,” they’re often used to get around the question, why?” Sam started,

“Those settlements that happened five years ago, do you think it is fair for governments to have to support them?” They argued against him. 

“Yes.” Sam spoke honestly. 

"And the people who reappeared only to find someone else living in their family home, they just end up homeless? Look, I get it. But you have no idea how complicated this situation is.” They tried to put Sam down but Sam wasn’t walking away. 

“You know what? You’re right. And that’s a good thing. We finally have a common struggle now. Think about that. For once, all the people who’ve been begging, and I mean, literally begging for you to feel how hard any given day is… Now you know. How did it feel to be helpless? Now if you could remember what it was like to be helpless and face a force so powerful it could erase half the planet, you would know that you’re about to have the exact same impact. This isn’t about easy decisions, Senator.”

“You don’t understand.” They grumbled. 

“I’m a Black man carrying the stars and stripes. What don’t I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people who are gonna hate me for it. Even now, here… I feel it. The stares, the judgment. And there’s nothin’ I can do to change it. Yet, I’m still here. No super serum, no blond hair, or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better. We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meet them halfway. Look, you control the banks. Shit, you can move borders! You can knock down a forest with an email, you can feed a million people with a phone call. But the question is, who’s in the room when you make those decisions? Hmm? Is it the people you’re gonna impact? Or is it just more people like you?” Sam paused. “I mean, this girl died trying to stop you, and no one has stopped for one second to ask why. You’ve gotta do better, Senator. You’ve gotta step up. Because if you don’t, the next Karli will. And you don’t wanna see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? Look, you people have just as much power as an insane god or a misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is, ‘How are you going to use it’?” 

You smiled widely at Sam as he finished, walking away. He really was Captain America. 

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, a Black guy in stars and stripes.” Bucky teased the man as he approached you. 

You wrapped your arm around Sam, half embracing him as Bucky patted him on the back. 

“Nice job, Cap.” Bucky smiled. 

“Thanks.” Sam took the compliment. 

“Sharon?” You smile dropped when you spotted Sharon trying to perform her own medical procedures beside a car. 

“Your blocking my light.” Sharon hissed as she fiddled with her wounds. 

“We gotta get you to a hospital.” Sam frowned at the state of her. 

“She’s not gonna listen.” Bucky stated flatly. 

“It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.” Sharon admitted, avoiding the mention of the hospital. 

“Told you.” Bucky quipped. 

“Uh, Cap?” A man came forward, interrupting for a moment. 

“I think he’s talking to you.” Sharon turned her face away to not risk getting recognised.  “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there. For what it’s worth, suit looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” Sam chuckled. 

“All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky ushered Sharon to move. 

“I didn’t forget my promise.” Sam turned to remind Sharon of his promise to get her a pardon before he left. 

You decided to take Sharon back to the apartment and fix her up there. You had enough supplies and the experience to do an adequate job of it. 

“What now? Back to Madripoor?” You asked Sharon as you cup open her top. 

“Seems like it.” She winced as she spoke.

“Sam will get you that pardon. You might as well stick around.” Bucky returned to your side with a bowl of water and a cloth. 

You worked in silence for a few minutes before Sharon realised something. She had been watching Bucky watch you. 

“You finally slept together, didn’t you?” Sharon smirked as it hit her. 

“Oh my god.” You groaned, rolling your head back. 

“I mean I knew something was different...” Sharon’s smart mouth was quickly shut as you pressed into her wound.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” Bucky excused himself as he felt a blush creep up his neck.

“Bout time.” Sharon murmured but it was the last she mentioned it after the glare you shot her. 

Sharon didn’t stick around after you stitched her up. You understood why but you were still hesitant to let her leave. 

As she did, you started to really feel the come down effects of the serum. 

“Hey. Hey.” Bucky caught you as you began to sway on your feet. He sat you down on his coach and placed his hand on your head. “You’re burning up.”

“It’s the serum.” You reminded him. It had been a long time since you used it last. 

Sweat covered down your forehead and soaked your clothes. Your body ached, it felt like it was on fire, and your head was hammering.

Bucky helped you remove your clothes before wrapping a thin blanket around you. He fetched a cloth to rest on your forehead as you laid back. 

His face twisted into a grimace as you began to scream and whine, writhing in front of him. 

And there was nothing he could do but watch.

The pain of the serum leaving your body was excruciating. Bucky brought over the bin as you had flimsily pointed to it. You curled over the side of the couch and threw up. 

Bucky brushed your hair away from your face with his hand and held it behind your head. 

“I forget how bad this got.” Bucky confessed as you choked.

The rest of the night was spent like that until you eventually fell asleep against Bucky’s bare chests whilst he held you. The coldness of his metal arm was refreshing against your burning skin. 

In the morning, you woke to the news that the captured super soldiers had been blown up on their way to the raft. 

It was announced there were no suspects but both you and Bucky knew exactly who was responsible. 

Zemo. 

“There’s somethings I gotta do today.” Bucky told you as he brushed his lips against your hair. 

“You want me to come with you?” You asked. You were weak but you were better after suffering through the night. 

“No. It’s something I gotta do it on my own.” Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours as you rested against him. 

“Okay.” You nodded. “But I’m here if you need me.” 

“I know.” Bucky kissed the back of your hand before pushing himself off the couch. “Now let’s get you in the shower because you stink.” 

You laughed as Bucky helped you up.

Bucky told you in the bathroom about his neighbour. He offered for you to see the memories you had missed since you last used your powers on him but you didn’t want to be informed on every thought/memory he had during the time you were away.

He told you what his plans were. It had been a long time since he had been this open. 

You spent the rest of the morning cleaning yourself and then the apartment. Bucky helped before you finally encouraged him to get on with his day. 

He didn’t return until late. 

He walked through the door and you could see his hands were shaking still. 

You didn’t say anything. You just hugged him. 

The days went by and soon enough you were being called by Sam again. 

He had invited you for a little celebration down at the dock. So, you travelled back down to Louisiana and back into Sam’s home town. 

The children instantly went for Bucky as you both arrived. You laughed as he chased after them with a cake in his hands. 

“Where is everybody?” Bucky asked them. 

Sam and Sarah embraced the both of you warmly and an overwhelming sense of love flooded around you. 

Pictures were being taken with Sam, the food was amazing, the beer was cold and it was a beautiful evening. 

You were stood against one of the wooden pillars, watching Bucky speak with Sarah, a couple kids dangling on his arm. You smiled and took a swig from your bottle.

“Don’t get soppy on me now.” Sam joined you, sipping on his own beer.

“Me? Soppy?” You scoffed, shaking your head. 

Sam rolled his eyes as he draped his arm over your shoulders. You leant into his embrace. 

“I visited the memorial for Isaiah in the museum.” You confessed.  

“Yeah?” Sam cocked his eyebrow at you with a smile. 

“It’s a great thing you’ve done for that man.” You praised him. “I’m proud of you, Captain America.” 

Sam clutched his heart with his hand dramatically. 

“My god!” He proclaimed. 

“Shut up.” You nudged him with your hip. You both laughed before making your way down the dock to watch the sunset. 

Bucky joined you. 

It felt good to be there. It felt like home. 

AN: To be continued?? I’ll probably leave this fic here for now but I may continue it on in the future.

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