#He bounces his eyes pop out he gets little birds that circle his head he can run on air so long as he doesn't look down | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

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Huma x reader (mainly showing Harry x reader) - slowburn oneshot - brand new

wattpad version (smut included)

Ao3 version (smut included)

-This is a smut oneshot(edit; turned into a slow burn oneshot that goes into smut cuz I can edit2.0; this tumblr version doesn’t have smut in it, it is hinted at but otherwise its not written but I will link to the AO3 and Wattpad versions that will have the smut posted) because im trying to practice writing it and (y/n) is written with she/her pronouns and has female body parts because, again, im still practicing on smut and want to get used to writing my own…body type before I branch out to attempt to write any other type anyways LETS GET TO IT-

Your leg bounced as you stared at the wooden swing doors of Ursula's chip shop. Harry had left to do some errands two hours ago, and usually he got those particular errands, collecting payment for the protection of shops and territory, done within two hours.

But it had been a whole two hours, you glanced at the clock again, and two minutes. Something burned in your gut, telling you something was wrong. You wouldn’t dare voice your concern in front of the crew and the chip shop customers, you would be cackled at for even entertaining the idea of worrying about someone, even if it was Harry.

You and Harry weren't close, you were just a simple crew member on Uma’s crew, you had joined after their adventure to the isle of the doomed so you didn’t have the bond that the crew had after going through something life-threatening. You were pretty sure Harry didn’t even know your name!

But that never stopped the butterflies in your head and stomach when you heard him laugh, never stopped the heat creeping up your neck when he smirked, never stopped the fuzzy feeling in your head when his ever so bright ocean blue eyes lined with black liner scanned the crew, never once locking onto you but that didn’t stop your heart from beating faster than a hummingbirds wings…whatever hummingbirds were but Gil had rambled about them one day after he found a bird fact book and that particular fact stuck in your head.

Besides, Harry practically had every vk at his feet, hell you were pretty sure Uma liked him too, and he liked her, with how they looked at each other it was a wonder that the entire isle didn’t ‘gossip’ about them.

And you were nothing compared to Uma, who in all honesty, was fucking gorgeous, so you could never blame Harry if he chose her out of all his “suitors” because who were you compared to Uma? You were just the daughter of simple thieves who had unfortunately been sent to the isle.

You looked at the clock again and frowned, it had only been another two minutes but that didn’t stop the pit in your stomach from growing. If Harry wasn’t back by 8:30, which was a bit less than a half-hour from now, then you would go looking for him…well if Uma didn’t send anyone out to look for him first, but she trusted him so she might not send anyone out at all.

But like you, Uma nervously glanced at the doors and clock every few minutes, like you, she also felt something was wrong but had to keep her usual calm demeanor in front of the crew.

You made eye contact with her after looking away from the clock again, Uma raising her brow in curiosity as you felt your ears burn and you looked to the doors quickly.

You counted down the minutes to 8:30, your fingers tapping rapidly against your tray of food and the heel of your boot hitting the leg of your stool in time.

It had been two and a half hours after Harry left for his errands, and you had finally had enough, you made eye contact with Uma as you stood and she nodded, glancing towards the doors then the sword check then back at you.

You somehow understood each other and you nodded back, heading towards the doors quickly as you snatched your cutlass from the sword check and raced out the chip shop in search of Harry.

You hopped over a rusted metal fence and landed on your toes; your eyes wide with caution. you were now just along the lines of territory a rival gang that had been attempting to take Uma’s territory for the past couple months. After you had gone to all the areas that Harry was supposed to go for his collecting route, Dizzy, bless her little heart, had nervously told you about Dylan, Clayton’s son, and his gang had ambushed Harry just a bit after he had finished up at Dizzy’s and kidnapped him and stole all the money he had just collected.

So you went to go collect the pirate and the money they had stolen, they were probably going to keep him for ransom against Uma, but what ransom would they have if there was no pirate or money?

You may have been the daughter of two ‘simple’ thieves but….then again, they were simple on the isle, not in Auradon.

Your lip twitched as a bout of cruel laughter echoed out from the building, you sprinted forward silently as you noticed one of the gang members on lookout duty starting to come around the corner to your right. You took a leaping step, catching yourself on an open window ledge and pulling yourself up swiftly, jumping up the three feet gaps between the windows as the guard passed below you not even knowing you had been where he was walking just a moment ago.

You thanked whatever god was out there for your (dad/mom) teaching you how to free run when you were younger. You peeked into one of the dark floors of the building, pursing your lips a bit as you remembered that their gang site was in an abandoned parking lot. Not much room for error, or hiding places.

You hopped through the window and landed silently on your feet, stopping as another bout of laughter echoed below you.

They kept to the lower floors then, which was good to know, it also meant both an easier and harder escape once you had Harry. Easier because less distance between Harry and the exit, harder because less distance between the exit and the gang.

You ran over to the stairwell; glad you had decided to wear your shoes with no heel as it made running quietly much easier. You grinned as you stepped into the stairwell, no door. hopefully, the other floors didn’t have them either, or else if they squeaked both you and Harry would be in for some shit.

You glanced at the faded number on the wall.

The seventh floor, wow you had climbed quite a bit, hadn't you? You shook away the thought, swiftly yet carefully climbing down the stairs, scanning each floor as you arrived to check for the gang.

Finally, you arrived on the third floor, the only floor with any light coming from it. You moved to stand flush against the wall next to the doorway of the floor, peering in as best you could without anyone seeing you, glancing every now and then to the stairway for any other gang members.

You huffed quietly as Dylan pushed at Harry's limp head, cackling and muttering to himself as he circled Harry like a bloodthirsty shark. You grit your teeth as you got a good look at Harry in the dimly lit area he was in. he was tied to both a structural beam and a folding chair, blood dripped from the side of his head down to his jaw and off his chin, he was starting to bruise on his face, neck, and possibly his torso and wrists, but those weren’t visible at the moment so you settled for guessing his injuries.

His right ankle was also at a VERY worrying angle…you might have to take some drastic measures to get Harry out of this parking garage.

Dylan was muttering something about how Uma would bow to him when she found her ‘precious’ first mate all bloody and beaten, and how he would finally have command of the wharfs.

“not on my watch” you muttered, quickly coming up with a plan and digging into your thigh bag, pulling out a handful of mini smoke bombs that your (dad/mom) had made forever ago in case one of the three of you needed them. You took out your lighter and lit the fuses, chucking them into the room and smirking as they landed right beside the gang members, luck seemed to be on your side today.

“what the hell-HOLY-“ Dylan let out a high-pitched screech as smoke burst from the nozzle of the smoke bombs and quickly filled the room, for being the size of ping pong balls they sure packed a wallop of smoke.

Pulling up your bandana to prevent any smoke inhalation you dashed into the room, running towards Harry but was stopped as a foot came arching your way. You held up your arms in front of your face and blocked the kick, stepping back quickly as the gang member started swinging at you, grunting with effort as you dodged and misdirected his punches.

“WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!” Dylan yelled, you smirked under your bandana, you weren’t really a known member of Uma’s crew, liking to keep to the shadows and out of sight.

You took the moment of disorientation from Dylan’s yell that caused the gang member to slip up and ducked under his next swing, one arm grappling around his next ant clasping with your other hand, your right foot going behind his ankle and pulling him forward flipping him over and slamming him into the ground with a loud crack.

He was out for the count, now, you looked up and around you, through the smoke you could see maybe 9 members left, including Dylan. Should be easy enough, you glanced at Harry, frowning slightly as he started to cough, but you would have to work quickly so Harry didn’t get all the smoke in the garage in his lungs.

You threw yourself back as another lackey of Dylan’s threw a punch at you, you decided to make quick work of them and grabbed their wrist, pulling it up and back towards them, smirking at the sickening pop that sounded from their shoulder. They screamed and dropped to the ground in agony, yelping as you leaned back from a sweeping air kick and slammed your hands onto the floor, using the momentum and lifting your legs back with you.

Your foot slammed into the next lackey's chin and he fell back, his skull slamming against the floor with a crack. You rolled back into a summersault and stood on your feet, catching the leg that was aimed at your chest and pulling the lackey towards you, kicking them twice in the stomach then throwing them over your shoulder with a twist of your torso and a spin of your feet.

They crashed to the floor just next to Harry, who was just barely coming to consciousness and jumped at the loud noise. He squinted through the smoke and dimly lit area, eyes widening as he spotted the spray panted symbol of Uma’s crew plain on your jacket sleeve.

Dylan watched in shock as you easily took out his gang members, and when the final one fell, he could feel the smug grin you had when you turned to face him.

Dylan let out an intelligible yell and rushed at you, only for his world to go black as you stepped to the side, grabbed his arm, turned your back to his chest, and swung him over you using his momentum.

Dylan and his gang were out for the count. And with Dylan knocked out the smoke finally cleared and all that was left was the dimly lit floor, the unconscious bodies of the gang, and an injured Harry.

You let out a soft sigh and pushed down your bandana, walking towards Harry and flipping out your pocket knife, kneeling next to Harry and cutting the ropes around his wrists and legs, then the ones around his torso keeping him to the beam. “woah-“ you pressed your hands against Harry's chest gently as he tried to rush out of the chair. “-hold up, you’re really hurt” Harry looked down at you, and you winced as you saw his swelling eye and bleeding nose for the first time, his lip was busted too.

“who-“ Harry slurred, trying to ask for your name or your rank in the crew but was unable to get the words out still being very much out of it from being jumped and beaten.

“im (y/n), im a regular ol’ crew member, and I got worried about you and came looking, come on, there are still some members on guard duty and we need to skedaddle before they come up” Harry gave a slow nod and with your help got to his feet, letting out a yelp as he put too much pressure on his broken ankle.

“um, okay” you quickly thought up a plan and had Harry lean on you almost completely, cursing Dylan for making the main part of his hideout on the third floor, now you had to get Harry down three flights of stairs just to get him to the doors. You and Harry froze at the sound of heavy footsteps running up the stairs, you let go of Harry's hand and lowered him to the ground, quickly jumping into a fighting stance and glaring at the stairwell doorway.

You felt Harry's eyes on you as did so, but you did your best to ignore him and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You slumped as Gil’s concerned face popped above the stairs, his eyes widening as he looked at Harry “holy heck, what happened?” Gil asked, walking over to Harry and checking him over.

“Dylan wanted him for ransom for the captain's territory, I took care of it” Gil gave you a look, you were never one to take initiative in the crew, well he didn’t either but you always stayed in the background, always seeming too scared to do anything about…well anything.

So for you to go out of your way to save Harry made Gil want to scratch his head. It clicked for him a moment later when he remembered how you always stared at Harry, with a look he could never put his finger on. Yes, Harry was the first mate and any of the crew members should put their life on the line to rescue him if needed but you didn’t do this as a crew member, you did this out of your personal feelings.

Gil, for once, didn’t think aloud, just hoisted Harry into his arms, ignoring Harry's protests and light smacks against his shoulder, and walked down the stairwell, you taking a moment to collect Harry hook that had been attached to one of the lackeys and running after them.

You stood awkwardly at the door frame of Harry's room as Gil set the injured pirate on his bed, you had never seen his room before, it was…a decent size, but you forced yourself not to memorize it for…reasons.

“I’ll tell Uma” you muttered aloud, walking away from Harry's room as you saw Gil nod, not seeing Harry strain his body in an attempt to keep his eyes on you.

When you arrived back at the chip shop and quietly informed Uma of the situation, she cursed and looked to the clock, she wasn’t off till midnight and it was only 9:15, she had another two hours and forty-five minutes before she was off and then she still had to clean!

“just-have Gil take care of him” she muttered back, pushing you back towards the chip shop doors “there's a medical kit in my quarters, under the board just left to the door, it'll jiggle when you step on it, give that to Gil and he’ll know what to do” you nodded and ran back to the ship, not wanting Harry to suffer for any longer than he was.

You went to Uma’s quarters, whistling a bit at the size of the room, and turned to the left, flipping up the loose board and taking out the large duffle bah with the red plus symbol on the side. “this has to be it” you muttered, standing and walking out of the room, closing the door behind you and making your way to Harry's room. you peeked into the room, frowning at the sight of Harry's very swollen turning very red and dark purple ankle. You knocked on the door frame and stepped into the room, handing the duffle bag to Gil.

The boys seemed to realize exactly where the bag was from and looked at you apprehensively, gosh sometimes you forgot how protective of Uma they were, even if it was a simple item. “she gave me permission to get that, I'll be out of your hair now” you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of the room, ignoring the butterflies in your gut as you felt Harry's eyes on you again.

It took Harry almost two months to heal from his injuries, his ankle still had ways to go so he was forced to be on the bench for crew activities and his usual errands until he could walk without his ankle being at a weird angle or him wincing in pain every time he took a step or shifted his ankle.

Gonzo and Bonnie took over his usual errands as Gil took over as temp-first mate until Harry was all healed up.

During those two months, you had noticed something….new.

Harry and Uma had taken to staring at you…a lot…like a lot a lot.

At first, you thought you were imagining things, the feeling of eyes constantly on you, then you thought that maybe some of Dylan's gang members had found out you were the one to sabotage his plan and were spying on you.

Those thoughts went out the window when one day you turned to look over your shoulder and saw Harry and Uma staring directly at you, Uma leaning on the long table on her elbows as Harry covered his mouth and some of his nose with his chin resting in his palm. You snapped your head back around and curled in on yourself, willing the heat growing up your neck to go away.

The next odd thing to happen was Uma beginning to actually…use you for crew things? Usually you just kinda…sat back and watched as everyone else did stuff, not of your own violation or laziness, it's just that Uma and Harry never seemed to…have anything to do for you?

But now it seemed like Uma was actually trying to include you in pirate activities, even once assigning you to her when the ship needed some maintenance on its ropes. She also started to either keep close to you as you trained in combat with the crew or sometimes even training you herself.

Which led to some…situations, you see, while you were pretty much an expert in hand to hand combat you fucking sucked with swords so once in a while you fumbled with your sword and…Uma while not being a PDA person, well unless it was Harry but even then, would walk toward you and correct your grip, stance, your free hand for balance, and even lead you in some sort of weird dance to help you learn your footwork.

It was like she was…sizing you up, if that was the best word, always keeping her eye on you, asking you random questions, making you help out in the chip shop, and just…having you be around her more than you used to.

Then there was Harry, after two months of just staring at you, he started talking to you, first “thanking” you for saving his ass from Dylan, aka he made you a bracelet and tossed it in front of you with a nod and a mutter of “thanks”. Gil had muttered next to you that Harry liked to make people stuff as a way to thank them, and held up his own bracelet that Harry made for him when they were younger “it's just one of the ways he shows appreciation!”

Then it moved to small conversations about random things, they weren’t long, just…small talk when you ended up in the same place as each other or when you were both on nightshift guard duty. The staring hadn't stopped, but you didn’t mind it as much as you used to, knowing it was Harry and Uma keeping their eyes on you, for whatever reason, but it made you feel….safe? you didn’t know the feeling that came with them watching you but you knew it wasn’t scared or threatened.

One day Harry asked you to practice some knots with him, setting up two crates and making you sit across from him. As you worked on learning how to make a round turn and two half-hitches knot, Harry stared at you, watching you ever so carefully, drifting his gaze from your concentrated face to your swift and calloused fingers as you successfully pulled the knot together, looking up at him with a shy grin, seeking his approval.

He smirked and nodded, patting your knee and beginning to instruct you on how to do other knots, in a softer voice than before. Next, is something that took you a pretty long time to notice but, they started to get physically closer to you when they could. Like when the crew crowded around the table for mealtime at the chip shop. In the beginning, you always sat at the farthest end of the table, always keeping to yourself and trying not to bother anybody.

But as time went on, you were slowly being pushed towards the middle of the table where Uma, Harry, and Gil always sat, or sometimes you would sit in your usual seat and Harry or Uma would be away from their seats and closer to you. You didn’t notice any of this until your shoulder was in line with Harry’s, his jacket brushing against your arms and legs knocking into yours.

They both seemed to also attempt to get you into conversations more, Uma’s hands ending up on your arms or shoulder when she talked to the crew if they weren’t on Harry's shoulder, Harry leaning in close to you when you had your little conversations, Uma staring intently as you trained with the crew.

Most of this you didn’t notice, being the oblivious and overthinker person you were, you brushed off the thought of a possible connection with the two and thought they were just doing what captain and first mate did, have a good relationship with a crew member was essential.

What you didn’t see was the crew smirking as Harry stared at you, snickering when Uma rested her hand on your shoulder, whispering to themselves as their eyes always flashed over to you when you walked through the doors, gossiping when Harry sneaked his own food onto your plate.

Even Gil, who was admittedly a bit airheaded, could see what was going through the minds of his two oldest friends. He just grinned and leaned back, knowing he had started it all when he had told Uma of his “theory” of you possibly having feelings for her first mate/kinda boyfriend.

She at first just wanted to size you up, to see if you were “worthy” of her best friend, she and Harry had an open relationship, if either of the others wanted to get with someone else as long as they talked it through and got consent it wasn’t a problem. Uma just wanted to see if you wouldn’t hurt Harry.

She didn’t expect to catch feelings for you. It was something that boiled beneath the surface of her skin as it developed, she didn’t even notice it happened. The feeling of sparks dancing across her fingertips when her hand touched yours when she fixed your grip on your sword, the burst of warmth beneath her skin when she locked eyes with you, the flutter in her gut when you laughed at one of Gil’s stupid jokes or Harry’s dumb stunts.

It was all the same feelings she got when she was around Harry, but it took only one moment for her to realize she had fallen for you. It was just supposed to be a regular Sunday on the isle, it was her day off so she decided to spend it with you meandering around the marketplace, not particularly looking for anything just browsing.

Their time at the market had been shortened by the arrival of Dylan, taunting Uma and getting in her face. “come on shrimpy!” he snickered, his gang behind him cackling loudly “too scared to go against me-GUk” Uma snapped her head around to look at Dylan as he suddenly gasped for breath and her eyes widened in shock. Dylan was on his back, holding his gut as you stood in front of Uma, tilting your head dangerously as the gang took a step back.

“not a good idea to disrespect the captain, Dylan” you growled, sending a shiver down Uma’s spine, you weren’t much a talker, and when you did it was soft, but now? There was a thick tension to your voice, almost reminiscent of Harry's low growly tone when he got angry.

Dylan slowly sat up and glared at you, eyes widening as he realized who you were “you’re-you’re the bitch that” he paled at the smirk on your face.

“that kicked your asses? All on her own? Yeah, I’m that bitch, now back the fuck up before I snap your teeth with my boot” Uma swallowed around the rising heat in her neck, rolling her shoulders to get rid of the uncomfortable tension that was growing inside her.

Dylan let out a snarl and snapped his fingers, three of his lackeys running towards you, all yelping as you took them down with ease. Uma smirked as the lackeys landed next to Dylan, who then stood quickly and bolted the other way.

Dylan stood and looked behind him, freezing as he noticed almost all his gang had abandoned him, the only one left was his right-hand man, who stared at you with wide fearful eyes. Dylan slowly turned as he heard you crack your knuckles and squeaked as you gave a sharp smirk “this is the part where you run away~” you giggled, holding in a loud laugh as Dylan and his last lackey turned and ran with their tails between their legs.

You rolled your shoulders with a sigh and turned back to Uma, feeling your cheeks burn as she stared at you with wide eyes “uh…captain?” Uma snapped out of her trance and smirked at you.

“and here I thought Harry lied to me about your fighting skills~” her smirk softened as you tugged at your shirt. “come on, let's finish up here”

It was only when you returned to the ship and Uma got a moment to herself, that she realized what those feelings were in the market, they were the same feelings she got when she looks at Harry.

She liked you…a lot. Uma let out a low groan and sunk into her chair in her quarters, now she had to deal with feelings for her chaotic dumbass first mate and the oblivious yet badass crew member.

She went from just checking you out to make sure you were good for Harry to now fucking liking you…what a trope huh?

Harry on the other hand, had realized his feelings from the start, they were very small to start with, he hadn't even known your name before the fateful day when you saved him from Dylan.

It felt like his heart was jumpstarted as he locked eyes with you as you flipped Dylan over your back, sparks running across his skin when you undid the ropes around his wrists.

First, he was impressed, you had gone out of your way to save him and then took down almost an entire gang, some of the members easily overtaking you in size and strength but you took them down as if they were nothing. Then you had been so protective of him as you tried to make your way out of the parking garage with him, even getting ready to fight Gil before you knew it was Gil.

As you walked out of Harry's room after giving Gil the medical pack, he had asked Gil what your position on the crew was. As Gil told him about you, he remembered when you told him your name and he quietly muttered it, smiling slightly as he decided it fit you perfectly

Then he was amused, you were much shyer than he thought you would be, you were always by yourself in a corner, keeping to yourself and never talking to anyone. As he moved closer to you during meal times, he enjoyed the little sarcastic comments you muttered to yourself as you listened to whatever the crew was talking about. He giggled to himself at the look on your face when he dropped the ‘thank you’ bracelet in front of you, mentally dancing in excitement when he saw you wearing it the next day and then never take it off, he didn’t know why he mentally danced in excitement but he brushed away the implications of it.

Then he and Uma started to attempt to get closer to you, well Uma was doing…her own thing while Harry was trying to get closer. First, he started with having you learn and help him tie the ropes around the ship, watching you as you at first fumbled with any type of rope he attempted teaching you, his heart fluttering when you finally got it and looked up at him for approval, a shy grin on your face.

He watched enraptured as you trained with Uma, chucking as he could imagine the steam coming off your face as Uma placed her hands on your hips and hands and corrected your stance. He cackled when you knocked Gil to the floor on a hand-to-hand combat training day, falling to his side as you leaned over Gil's dizzy self with your hands moving about unsure of what to do.

He watched you interacted during the quiet moments of the night when you would both be on night shift watching the ship, your shy nature seeming to melt away under the cloudy black sky as you rambled about whatever you were thinking about. He never really noticed himself leaning ever so close as you talked, only able to focus on you.

He noticed the crew teasing him and Uma pretty early on, though they were easily silenced when either him or Uma glared at the crew.

One day, he realized he was smitten with you. The crack of your voice when you got nervous, when you fidgeted with your rings, the smirk on your face when you flipped one of the crew members over your back, the laugh that spilled from your lips when you finally got the hang of using your sword, when you rubbed your thumb against your lips as you zoned out, it all made him feel warm inside, the same feelings he got around Uma.

He had to tell Uma about his feelings for you, they were in an open relationship but he wanted to make sure she was alright with you before he pursued anything with you.

One night after Uma finished up at the chip shop, she arrived to her quarters to see Harry sitting on her bed, playing with the curve of his hook as he waited for her. “Harry?” Uma groggily asked, she was exhausted but Harry never seeked her out after midnight, so something was up “what's going on, what do you need?” she closed the door to her room with her foot and slipped off her boots and hat, walking over to harry and flopping down on the bed next to him. “um-“ Harry stuttered, the red in his ears creeping down to his cheeks “yeh know (y/n)?” Uma perked up at that, pushing herself up with her hands and staring hard at Harry.

“yeah?” Uma’s heart sped up at the mention of the girl she had fallen for, god she hoped Harry wasn’t going to say he didn’t like her, and then Uma would feel like shit and she’d never be able to kiss the shit out of you till either of you couldn't see straight. “what about her?”

“I-um…I-…I like ‘er…like I like yeh” Harry’s face was almost crimson now, staring down at his lap as he played with the loose threads on his pants. “and-and I was wonderin’ if I-I could…um, invite ‘er into our relationship?” Harry's voice cracked at the end, oh so nervous and scared for what Uma was going to say.

“thank fuck I thought I was the only one” Harry snapped his head around to look at Uma, his mouth dropping open slightly “god fuck isn’t she so fucking pretty?!”

Harry let out a small sigh of relief and fully turned to look at Uma, sitting up on his knees “YES! Fuck she so pretty I just wanna smoother her in fucking i-gaaah ya know?!” he lifted his hands in front of his face and clenched them in an odd motion of frustration from (y/n)s prettiness. Uma laughed and nodded, grabbing onto Harry's hands and gripping them tightly.

“I do know, and I would be a hundred percent down for inviting her into our relationship, but!” Uma held up her hand as Harry gave her a wide grin, he deflated a bit and tilted his head “we need to make sure she's gonna be okay with this” Uma motioned between her and Harry “hell we don’t even know if she has feelings for us” Harry looked hurt at that, just wanting to drag you into bed with him and Uma already so he could smother you with cuddles and whatever couples did with their adorable significant others “I know, but we need to play this safe, I don’t want to scare her off”

Harry gave a slow nod, he wanted to do what he always did, rush into an idea with no real plan and just hope he didn’t die. But he would listen to Uma on this, she was a lot better with relationships then he was…well the logical part of them, he was better at feelings and physical stuff.

So the two talked into the night, deciding in the early morning that they would tell (y/n) about their decision on Sunday when Uma was off work.

Their talk happened on Wednesday, by Saturday afternoon Uma was off the isle, having dived through the barrier just before it closed and swimming to Auradon in search of revenge on Mal and to free the vks still on the isle.

It was only after she left that you realized you had fallen for Uma alongside Harry. The piercing feeling in your chest and gut every time you thought about your captain or even just being on the ship or chip shop slapped you in the face as you realized you fucking missed Uma, more than you should have.

You knew Harry missed Uma too, he had shut himself in his room soon after Uma disappeared at cotillion and refused to come out even when Gil asked. It wasn’t till his sister Harriet stormed onto the ship and dragged him out of his room that he seemed to be a little more like his usual self, he also started to hang around you more often and on the nights where you were on night guard duty he would join you, even when he didn’t have to anymore now that he was captain until Uma’s return.

Your mind was a maze, just trying to maneuver your feelings for both Uma and Harry, the feelings you had for Harry had multiplied for Uma, and now you couldn’t even think about either of them without heat rushing up your neck or butterflies rushing around your stomach.

Great, you had a crush/probably in love on the two people who were already “dating” each other, and both of them were so.damn.pretty. You groaned to yourself, covering your face and sinking to the ground in a crouch. Yeah, you had no fucking chance.

On the bright side, it did seem you were getting closer to Harry? So unrequited love aside at least you were getting a friendship out of it? The two of you started hanging out together more often than not, as you had mentioned before Harry joined you on night guard shifts, the two of you continued rope tying practice, started hand to hand combat training, he took Uma’s spot in teaching you how to use a sword, and sometimes the two of you would just…chill, hanging out in the bird’s nest drinking and eating whatever snack or food Harry had found, you leaning against his legs in the cramped space.

About five months after Uma had left the isle, the crew, aka Bonnie and Drey, decided to have a “bonding” night, forcing everyone into the chip shop after closing time, surrounded by rum and leftover food from the day to play truth or dare/seven minutes in heaven.

The rules were if you didn’t want to tell the truth or accept the dare, you had to spin the bottle and play seven minutes in heaven with whoever it landed on, and if you refused to play that, you'd have to take a shot of Desiree’s strongest liquor.

Bonnie, being the one who made the rules, went first, pointing to Gil and asking him truth or dare.

“Truth!” Gil chirped, already halfway through on his fries. Bonnie hummed for a moment and tapped her bottle of beer, trying to think of something good since Gil did tend to blurt out everything.

“who do you have a crush on?” Bonnie finally asked with a teasing smirk, laughing a bit as he pointed at Harry. “yeah, okay we knew that”

Harry blew a kiss towards Gil and Gil grinned and caught it, smacking it on his cheek and going back to his food as the crew burst into laughter. Gil tossed a fish stick into his mouth and looked around the group, pointing at Gonzo.

“truth or dare Gonzo” Gonzo let out a low hum and shrugged.

“dare” he muttered, thinking that Gil wouldn't be able to think of anything that bad. Oh, boy was he wrong.

Gil gave a nasty grin and stood, walking over to the kitchen and rummaging in the fridge for a few moments “oi what the hell are you doing?” Harry yelled, pouting as Gil didn’t answer.

Gil returned with something in his fist, his other hand keeping the unknown object hidden from sight. He stood in front of Gonzo and opened his hands, showing a snake egg. “eat up!”

“OH HELL NO” Gonzo yelped, smacking the egg out of Gil's hand, Drey and Jonas screeching as it smashed against the floor and black goo spread from the destroyed egg. Half the crew scrambled back from the egg, its rancid smell already beginning to spread around the chip shop

“ah Gonzo come on!” Emanuel complained, diving behind Gabe, the two pushing each other away and towards the egg in desperation to get away from it and doom the other to the smell.

You covered your mouth as you held in your laughter, falling to your side a bit and your head hitting Harry's shoulder as he cackled. “okay okay Gil, clean it up, Gonzo, either spin the bottle or drink” Gil begrudgingly cleaned up as Gonzo pouted at Harry.

Bonnie held up the empty rum bottle and wiggled her brows at Gonzo. He glared at her and snatched a shot glass from Desiree and took the shot, gaging a bit as it went down his throat “holy shit that’s strong” he shivered, the rest of the crew booing as he handed the shot glass back to Desiree.

Since Gonzo had forfeited the dare and seven minutes in heaven, Gil went again, this time picking Drey and the girl chose to do truth. “Ummm okay…uh, ever give a blowjob?” the crew whistled and hollered at the speedy turn towards the sexual end of questions and Drey snickered, shaking her head and holding up her hand to her mouth, only her pointer and middle finger around her lips as she winked and stuck her tongue through. “I’ll take that as a no” Gil laughed, taking a sip of his rum and leaning back on his elbows.

“your turn Drey” Bonnie called, stealing a crab cake from Zhao and laying halfway down on the floor, resting her chin in her palm. Drey tapped her chin, looking around the crew before her eyes landed on Yamato, who quickly leaned behind Gabe but was too late.

“Yamato, truth or dare” he kept behind Gabe for a moment longer before he sighed and leaned back to sit straight and looked at Drey in surrender.

“dare” he muttered, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. Drey gave a wicked grin and looked around, trying to find something that would best work on Yamato.

“oh! I got it…lick Gabe's foot” the crew yelled out in disgust as Gabe laughed and pulled off his boot, shoving it towards the disgusted Yamato.

“NOPE gimme the bottle, GIMME THE BOTTLE ID RATHER MAKE OUT WITH ANYONE ELSE THAN LICK HIS FOOT GABE GET THAT AWAY FROM ME OR WE WILL THROW HANDS” Yamato shoved Gabe away from him, the cackling pirate falling on his back holding his chest.

Bonnie cackled and pushed the empty bottle of rum into the middle of the circle, Yamato sighed and leaned over to spin it, sitting cross-legged as everyone stared at the bottle in both excitement and anxiety.

Finally, the bottle slowed and landed on Zhao, the crew cheered and the two boys laughed, Zhao biting his bottom lip, squinting his eyes, and raising his brows.

“Alright come on Zhao les make out!” Bonnie stood and ran over to the closet that she had declared “heaven” the two boys joining hands and swinging them as they walked into the closet and Bonnie closed the door after them.

“have fun~ Gonzo set the timer!” Gonzo leaned over the took the timer/stop watch from where Bonnie was sitting and set it for seven minutes “im so glad that thing is basically soundproof I do not need to hear Yamato moaning” the crew snickered at that, Harry rolling his eyes and leaning towards you.

“five bucks Zhao gives Yamato a handy” you felt your cheeks burn at his low-toned voice and laughed a bit, nodding as he grinned at you.

“you’re on” you whispered, biting your lip as Harry patted your thigh and sat up straight again.

“who’s next?” Jonas asked, taking a swig of his rum and glancing about the room.

“I’ll just go again and when Yamato comes out hell go” Drey waved it off and looked around the room, pointing at Gabe “Gabe truth or dare!”

“Dare” Gabe snickered, falling off balance a bit as Drey pointed at Gil.

“sit in Gil's lap till someone picks you again” Gabe sighed and stood, plopping in Gil's lap and crossing his arms.

Gil didn’t seem to mind, reaching his arm over Gabe's waist to grab his food tray. “all right, Gonzo truth or dare!” Gonzo groaned, having only gone a couple of turns before but chose truth this time “have you ever given head before, doesn’t matter girl or boy just head” Gonzo tilted his head then nodded. the crew, minus you and Harry, wolf-whistled “yooo who!?” Gonzo grinned and shook his head.

“hey, I only had to answer if I have given it before not to who” Gabe pouted and leaned back into Gil.

“party pooper” Gonzo perked up and looked around the group, eyes landing on you, smirking as you shrunk into yourself in an attempt to make yourself invisible

“(y/n) truth or dare” you tugged at your shirt, trying to decide what to do, go with truth, and possibly reveal your crush on Harry and Uma? Be dared to do something embarrassing? Play spin the bottle? Or take a shot?

“um, truth” you squeaked out, Gonzo looking up at the ceiling as he tried to figure out what to ask you. Finally, he snapped his fingers as he looked back at you, having found the perfect question.

“Have you ever had sex? Or been with anyone for that matter?” you shook your head, you were a virgin through and through, you haven't even kissed anyone before. “huh, all right your turn”

You looked around the group, finally landing your eyes on Desiree who had been untouched the entire game “Desiree” she looked up at you, mid-sip on her rum “truth or dare?”

“Dare” she answered immediately, smirking as the crew ‘oooh’d at her. “gimme your best shot (nickname)”

“umm” you had never really…dared anyone to do anything before…this was gonna be tough. “lick the bottom of Bonnies boot” the crew stared at you for a moment as Desiree looked between you and Bonnie wide-eyed “what?”

“holy shit I thought you were gonna like, I don’t know, make me eat twenty crackers or something! But I’ll do it” the crew cheered and Gabe leaned over to give you a high five.

Bonnie lifted her boot into the air and cackled as Desiree just went for it, going sole to toe “AHHHH” Bonnie cackled, falling backward and holding her leg in the air. Desiree backed into her spot again and shook her head, hanging her tongue out of her mouth as she made gagging noises.

“tha’ wath stho groth” she gagged, grabbing a paper towel and scraping her tongue of the taste of Bonnie's boot. after a few moments of the crew laughing at her, along with the timer of Zhao and Yatamo’s seven minutes in heaven beeping, the two coming out of the closet with Messy hair, bruised lips and Zhao’s pants unbuttoned.

Harry pouted at you and took the five out of his wallet, placing it in your hand as you gave him a smug grin. “yeh won tha’ one lass” he laughed quietly, freezing as Desiree locked her eyes on him.

“Harry, truth or dare” Harry kept a staring contest with her, trying to predict what she was going to do.

Finally, he sighed “Dare” Desiree let out a cold cackle, Harry freezing again at it.

“let Gil give you a haircut” Harry immediately shook his head, Gil had cut his hair once before and he ended up with the worst patchy hair cut he had ever had, he only trusted two people with his hair, Uma, and Harriet. “alright then spin the bottle!” Harry sighed, he had a lot of work to do in the morning so drinking wasn’t the best idea so he took the bottle from Bonnie and spun it, mentally crossing his fingers that it would land on you.

You watched as the bottle spun around, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You did want the bottle to land on you but at the same time you hoped it wouldn’t land on anybody so you wouldn’t be going behind Uma’s back or so Harry wouldn’t be kissing someone other than you or Uma.

You felt the heat climb up your face as the tip of the bottle landed directly on you, the crew whistling and cheering as you buried your face in your knees. “wooooooo come on you two! Get to the closet.” Harry glanced at you and while he really wanted to go into the closet with you, he felt bad as you had completely turned into a ball of embarrassment.

“come on guys she obviously-OI” Gonzo and Jonas grabbed Harry's arms, carrying him to the closet and tossing him in, Drey and Desiree grabbing your hands and tugging you in after him.

They closed the door behind you, Bonnie going the extra mile and locking the door “Have fun~ seven minutes!” Bonnie’s muffled voice yelled through the door before it went silent.

You pressed yourself into the wall and sunk to the floor, holding your face in your hands and pulling your knees to your face. “(y/n)?” Harry quietly asked, kneeling in front of you and cupping your face with his hand, pushing your chin up to make you look at him “are yeh okay?”

“I-I just-“ you buried your face again, if you looked at him anymore you would throw your moral compass out the window and just kiss him silly.

“do yeh not like meh?” he asked, feeling a pit form in his chest at the thought of you not liking him in ‘that’ way, he blinked in surprise as you shook your head and looked back up at him.

“no-its, not that, it’s more…I like you…like a lot…more than I should, a lot” you whispered, biting your lip as Harry stared at you, not noticing him glancing at your lips “but you’re with Uma and I don’t want to ruin anything between the two of you even if it's just a dumb game and I don’t want to ruin our friendship with my dumb feelings even though I just blurted out every-“ you were stopped by a soft pair of plush lips, and in the dark of the closet you saw Harry very very close to your face, his eyes closed and hands gently cupping your jaw.

You decided to just let yourself enjoy the next seven minutes and closed your eyes, pressing back ever so gently back into Harry…your brain reminded you that Harry was your first kiss and you smiled, helluva first kiss if you did say so yourself.

Harry pulled back slowly and you fluttered open your eyes, biting your lip as Harry gave you a soft smile “yeh wouldn’t be ruining anything between Uma an’ I, we both like yeh and actually” Harry let out a nervous chuckle “we were goin’ ta ask yeh ta’ join our relationship a couple months ago but…Uma left before we could tell yeh…we were planning ta ask yeh the weekend that ended up filled with all the beasty boy stuff…” Harry hoped that you wouldn’t reject Uma, he loved both of you and he didn’t want to have to lose one to keep the other.

“I…Uma-“ you leaned forward, burying your face in Harry's shoulder “I like Uma too” you whispered into his shoulder, squeaking as Harry picked you up by your thighs and pushed you against the wall, his hips pressing into yours.

Harry smiled at you, pressing another kiss to your lips “good, we can have fun when she gets back okay?”

You whimpered into the kiss, nodding as he pulled back “okay” The two of you spent the next seven minutes exchanging kisses and feeling the room heat up as Harry continued to press his hips into yours.

You were soon interrupted by Bonnie yelling through the door “Times up you two!” Harry groaned and set you back on your feet, letting you hang on to him as you balanced on wobbly legs.

Harry knocked on the door, Bonnie quickly unlocked it at that and swung it open, giving the two of you a smug grin before her shoulders dropped

“oh come on it's like you didn’t do anything!” Harry rose his brow; he had bitten your neck and dry-humped you did it really seem like he did nothing? He turned to look at you, raising his brow as he realized you had quickly fixed yourself up and the only evidence to your heated time in the closet was your heated cheeks. “All right come on, Zhao’s on a dare right now and Gabe drank a shot”

You and Harry glanced at each other then back at the crew, walking out of the closet and taking your previous seats next to each other, Harry's arm now resting behind your back.

Things changed after that, the small conversations at night turned intimate, faces always close together and bodies touching, breath mingling, and Harry's lips pressing against your lips or neck every so often. Practicing knots went from sitting across from each other with Harry instructing you to you and Harry sitting so close your knees touched the inside of his thighs, his hands ever so gently guiding your fingers through the motions and his voice soft.

He started to pull you away at random moments to a hidden corner and curl himself around you, pressing his lips to yours with the others oblivious to your recent activities.

The two of you hadn't gotten to resume your session from the closet, leaving you frustrated and needy. You honestly just wanted Harry to ravish you until the sun came up.

What you didn’t know was that Harry was feeling the same way, frustration building in his body every time he looked at you, eyes burning into your lips and body, just wanting to drag you to his room and show you a whole new world. He thought of you every night, almost stomping to your room and taking you but holding himself back.

It was just getting too much for both of you, so one night, when Harry knew neither of you had anything to do the next day, snuck to your room and knocked gently on your door, not wanting any of the crew to hear knowing you wouldn’t want everyone to know your business.

“Harry?” you whispered, looking around the dark halls of the ship as Harry stared down at your lips, your body barely covered with only a loose shirt and some sweat pants “what's wrong? It's like, 2 am?” Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to yours passionately, curling his hands around your face and humming into it as you pressed back needingly.

He pulled back, just enough for your breath to mingle “darling” he purred, enjoying the way you squirmed at the tone of his voice “do yeh want to continue our little session from the closet?” he grinned as your eyes went wide and you nodded erratically. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of your room and closing the door, the two of you sneaking back to his room.

That night was filled with heated kisses, whispered confessions, and bruised hips.

Everything changed again after that, the soft hidden kissed behind corners turned to heated make-outs, you still had soft kisses but more often than not it was passionate. You slept in Harry's room more often than not, not to have sex but simply because you liked being with him and him you. Your midnight talks being shoulder to shoulder turned to you being engulfed in Harry's arms and sitting between his legs as you talked about whatever you wanted. The practice tiring ropes became teasing, Harry sneaking kisses whenever he could

Harry went deeper into himself, and you learned almost everything from his favorite drink to his deepest fear, and he told you about Uma as well, letting you get to know her through another and you fell for both Uma and Harry more each day.

And you told him what you could, from your favorite color to your most embarrassing moment, it was…bliss, well as blissful a relationship could be on the isle.

About a year after the two of you got together, you watched as Harry and Gil dove through the barrier just as it was closing after the core four and Celia, messing with your bracelet nervously as you watched Gil and Harry fight with Carlos and Jay. Harry forced a blue gem out of Mal's hand and it soared over the water, Mal letting out a small scream before a turquoise tentacle reached up and caught it.

Your breath caught and you let a grin grow on your face “Uma” you whispered out, bouncing on your feet as Uma rose out the water, looking even more beautiful than the last time you saw her. Harry looked directly at you, the same feeling you had at seeing Uma swimming in his eyes.

Uma was back.

After Uma submerged into the water and sent a tunnel of water up and splashing the vks, she reappeared on the other side of the bridge, holding up the glowing gem Mal had been holding.

A few minutes of negotiating later, with Mal being stubborn as always, the vks were off to do whatever they were off to do, you didn’t know, the most you had heard was Mals muffled scream of ‘no’

Uma suddenly glanced back, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she looked at you. You gave her a grin and waved back, you guessed Harry had told her about the two of you and you hoped to hades that you would see them again and be able to kiss Uma finally.

Only a day later, in the early morning, Harry and Uma stepped into his room, Harry gesturing to his bed where you were sleeping curled up in one of his shirts and his blankets.

“aw,” Uma cooed, walking over to you and caressing your cheek, flinching back as your eyes snapped open and you sat up, a bright grin growing on your face as your vision refocused and you saw Uma.

“Uma~!” you squealed, launching yourself at her and tossing the two of you onto the ground, Uma chucking underneath you as her head was pinned to your shoulder. “you’re back!”

Harry smiled as you and Uma hugged on the floor “so Harry tells me you like both of us? And want to be with both of us?” Uma asked, sitting up with you in her lap.

Your face burned slightly but you nodded, smiling as Uma cupped your cheeks “good, but just so you know I will always choose sea ponies over both of you” you and Harry burst into laughter, a smile growing on Uma’s lips as she watched two of her three favorite people laugh.

“Harry already told me that part of the contract” you teased, leaning in and pecking Uma’s cheek, snickering as she froze and stared at you “what? I can’t kiss my girlfriend~?”

Harry chuckled and kneeled next to you and Uma, wrapping his arms around you and whispering in your ears “I think Uma’s bed is a bit better to fit all three of us eh?” you grinned, Uma’s face burning as she saw Harry wiggle his brows.

“I leave a virgin first mate and a shy oblivious crew member and come back to two horndogs…Christ remind me to never leave yall alone again”

“noted” you and Harry sang in unison, Uma laughing at it and shaking her head.

“Alright come on, let's go to my room.” you and Harry grinned, your arm going around Uma’s and grabbing onto her hand as Harry tossed his arm around her shoulder and the three of you walked into Uma’s room.

To which Uma was very VERY glad her room was soundproofed a long time ago.

-end-

side note with the smut, this was 50 pages and 15,676 words, without the smut its 32 pages and 9943 words which is still a lot but woza, like, 16 pages of the fic was dedicated to smut XD

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange (thank you for beta reading the smutty version don worry ill link the full version lol)

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @rintheemolion

@jatp-rules-my-life @verboetoperee

@thecaptainsgingersnap @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @imtryingthisout

and because you asked me too since i used the crew names you created @askauradonprep

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #huma #huma x reader #smut implied #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #uma descendants #lost revenge #lost revenge crew shinanigans

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downywrites · 3 years

Note

There is literally no Lee!Slimecicle stuff and I am literally starving for Lee!Slimecicle. Maybe Charlie gets himself into a sticky situation? And any ler or lers of your choice are tired of the puns and wreck him? Thank you, I love your work!

Yes. Bird has something for you.

Lol I lost motivation halfway through this I am so sorry lmao APs are kicking my ass

The sound of pickaxe slamming into stone could get monotonous. The echoing ring of the iron bounced back and forth through the narrow space. Small pants of exertion could be heard from the miners, the only source of steady light flickering dangerously within the torch-powered lamp. The smell of sweat permeated the air, a scent that made Slimecicle scrunch up his nose distastefully. “Ew.” “What’s ew, big man?”

He barely glanced at the owner of the voice. “Tubbo, mine your own business.” A small sound of goat-like annoyance greeted his ears moments later. “Seriously, that’s the 10th pun. Dude, stop already.” The man ignored him, focusing on a small piece of ore that he found below his feet. He grunted quietly, feeling the strain of his muscles increase incrementally as he swung. With one final ‘crack’, the ore beneath his feet gave way. A large hole gaped beneath the ore he was standing on. With a start, he grabbed at the smooth stone desperately as he slipped into the hole of his own making.

Panicked eyes locked with squarish pupils. “Tubbo, get the others-” Tubbo smirked, a menacing look flickering across his face. His tail wagged softly as he crept towards his prey. “...T-Tubbo?” “You know, your puns have been getting to me a little more lately.” He neared his hands, gingerly pushing at a few fingers. Slime shook his head, hair bouncing slightly as he moved. Small little ‘nonono’s’ escaped his mouth as the goat pushed his fingers off, one by one. “You d-don’t have to do this…” A sneer. “Yeah, sorry. I think I do. Besides….” He gently pushed the man off the block he was holding onto. “You don’t take fall damage.”

Slime’s scream of fear slowly decreased in loudness. The only sign that Tubbo heard him at all was a single twitch of his ear. Grinning like a child in a candy store, he turned around swiftly, clapping his hands as to clean off the coal dust from his hoof-hands. Slime closed his eyes, wind whistling loudly in his ears. He braced himself for a painful landing, curling up into a ball. The sensation of something squishy stopped his fall abruptly. “What?” He opened one eye, then the other. He glanced around in confusion, placing his hands down on the gooey surface curiously. “Did I…?” He gasped quietly. “Oh no. Uhhh...Tubbo?” Pulling at his hands and his relatively-enveloped legs, he struggled to escape the sticky gel. “I got stuck on my brand!” Tubbo’s voice reverberated off the walls as he replied. “You got stuck on a slime, big S? Don’t worry! I’ll get you some...er...help!”

“Why did you hesitate on help?” A minute fluffy head popped out of the hole above him. The sight of blocks around the boy being mined made him sigh in relief. Ranboo and Tommy waved down at him. “Yo, Slime! We’ll help you, hold on a sec!” The winged boy hopped off the platform, gliding down in a tight circle. Ranboo glanced at Tubbo for a moment. “Hold on.” He scooped his platonic husband up in a hold that could remind a pet owner of a dog being cuddled to their owner’s chest. In a burst of allium-colored particles, he disappeared with a ‘vwoop’. Ranboo reappeared in front of the mass of slime. A small shriek of surprise greeted the enderman. “Dude, you can’t just teleport in front of me! I thought you were going to… ender me.” Slime winked, pushing up his glasses with his shoulder awkwardly.

A pair of blank looks greeted the comedian. “Uhh...tough crowd?” Tubbo stepped on the slimy substance, flicking his hooves when he got stuck for a moment. “The only reason this slime got you is because of your hybrid traits, you know. And you’ve made one pun too many.” His eyes glanced back at his husband, who looked back at him in mismatched confusion. “You know, I always wanted to know just how sensitive a smile hybrid is.” His eyes widened. “Tubbo, nonononono-” The goat hybrid sat to the side of him, ears twitching in amusement. Slimecicle himself was not as amused. He sputtered out protests and apologies. “Plehease, don’t! Ihi’m s-sorry, dohohon’t!” A single finger traced his neck slowly. Even the slightest of sensations sent the poor man into a fit of giggles. The added feeling of helplessness didn’t help him tamp down the swirl of butterflies in his stomach. He shook his head and scrunched his shoulders up, trying to escape Tubbo’s hand.

“That’s a pretty big reaction. Does the slime make you more ticklish or something, big man?” He fluttered more of his fingers over the nape of his neck, relishing in the small shivers he felt from his ministrations. Ranboo, not wanting to leave Tubbo hanging, climbed slowly onto the mass, wincing whenever gel smeared on his suit. He sat on the other side of Slimecicle, carefully kneading at his side with a single hand. The slime hybrid leaned away from the sensation at his side, giggling loudly. “Nohoho! Ihihi sahahaid Ihihi’m sohohorry!” “Sorry doesn’t cut it anymore, Slimy~ Now you have to pay in laughter!”

Tubbo shifted his focus from his neck to his other side, dragging his fingers over his clothed sides. Slime’s giggles climbed an octave, getting slightly more high-pitched as Tubbo roamed higher. “Oh? Are your sides a wee bit ticklish? Kitchy kitchy coo!” The man turned his head away from the goat, squeaking out a quiet protest. Ranboo awwed at the sound, tilting his head and letting his dual-toned hair cascade down on one side. He grabbed at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up slowly as to not disturb his partner on the opposite side. Picking up the end of his ponytail, he wiggled it over the man’s side experimentally. His reaction was instantaneous. “Guhuhuys, doho- RAHAHanbohOo!” Slime pulled at his gelatinous restraints half-heartedly, not really wanting the tickles to stop. Tubbo peered over his stomach to look at what the enderman was doing, before a wicked smile painted his face. “Oh Slimelee~” “Y-yehehes?” “Do you like nuzzles?” “Waahahahait, nohohohO-” Before Slimecicle was able to brace himself, the feeling of soft, fluffy wool made him shriek and squirm violently. The feeling of not one, but two fluffy tools on his sides was almost torture. Everytime he moved to one side to avoid the sensations, the other side would increase, forcing him to move back into place.

After a few minutes of desperate pulling, one of his hands came free. As soon as he had the chance, he pushed at Tubbo’s head, laughing even louder when Tubbo’s wooly hair dragged against the palm of his hand. “CUHUHUT IHIHIT OHOHUT!” Tubbo grinned, tail wagging from side to side almost violently fast behind him. “Oh, okay!” He pulled away quickly, motioning to Ranboo to stop as well. The enderman vwooped in slight confusion, tilting his head and pulling back in tandem with him. Slimecicle fake-pouted a little at the loss of the sensations. “Whihiy’d yohohou stohohop?”

“You told us to, big man!” The goat boy cheerfully quipped, getting up slowly. “Guess it’s time to go~” He began to walk away, trying to avoid sinking into the gel himself. Ranboo sat by the man’s side, tails lashing in slight confusion. He leaned closer to Slime, whispering out of the corner of his mouth. He strained to listen to the taller of the two. “I have no clue what he’s thinking.” Slime muffled his giggles with his free hand. “Listen, dude. I think I can free myself, but let’s do a bit just to piss Tubbo off. How about it?” Ranboo’s ears perked up. “I’d never pass up on something that could piss my husband.” Slime began to whine loudly about his predicament, wiggling in the gelatinous mass and shaking a large part of it. “aaaAAAA-” Tubbo winced from his position a few paces away from them. “Slimeci-” “I DON’T WANNA BE A PORNSTAR YET! I’M NOT THAT STUCK!”

Ranboo held it together pretty well, tails wagging behind him and grabbing onto a clump of rocks for balance and support. “Pff-” “What the FUCK?!?!” Tommy alighted on the rocks, russet color wings folding behind himself fluidly. He hurried over to Slime, pulling at him with all his strength. (Not that he has that much strength.) Slime let him, pushing at the gel himself in a weak attempt to escape. “T-tommy, how much did you hear?” A slight panicked Ranboo asked. “All I heard was that last thing. And no, Slime, you won’t be a pornstar. Pornstars need to be pretty at the very least.” Tubbo shouted from his spot outside the ‘splat zone’ of the gel. “And you sure as hell aren’t!” Slime retorted with a small smile on his face. “Well, neither are you, Mr. ‘I have hair covering the majority of my face and I have to gel it back so I can see’!” Tommy and Ranboo rolled their eyes. “Alright, let’s not mess around anymore. We need to get Slime out.” “Tommy mature pog?” “WHAT? I’M ALWAYS MATURE, YOU FUCKING BITCH!” “Here we go again.”

From then on, Slime vowed to never fuck around with Tubbo and his friends. At least, not for a few hours afterwards. (He may have made a few slime-related puns after he freed himself.)

#downywrites #mcyt tickle #my writing #dsmp tickle #ler!tubbo #ler!ranboo #lee!slimecicle #please help me I am so tired #sfw tickling

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fortunesfavours · 3 years

Text

My gift for @casismymrdarcy as part of @starrynightdeancas wonderful gift exchange. I had so much fun writing this! Definitely going to try AUs like this more. A short and sweet one-shot featuring Dean as a camp counselor, ghost summoning, and the cute counselor from Cabin Three getting caught in the rain. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1189

Continued below the cut, will be up on AO3 once I decide on a title.

CW: slight mention of John Winchester/rough family life

Generally, in all of Dean’s sum 25 years of life experience, letting a pack of eight-year-olds that were already positively intoxicated on sugar near candles, a lighter, and his co-counselor’s Ouija board was a truly horrific idea. Yet, here he was, weary head in his hands, attempting to supervise the most hare-brained idea of the week. His co-counselor, an energetic woman named Clara he had first met at the staff meeting a few days before, was on her break, leaving him alone with their cabin. She had pulled him aside in the dinner line and told him that she had “stuff to let the kids experiment with” in a box under her bunk. He had (foolishly) assumed this would probably be art supplies, perhaps some glitter glue and cardstock, or maybe pony beads and string, but alas, here he was.

He had opened the box that had once apparently held Kirkland-brand orange juice to find an intricately-carved wooden plank, detailed with curling vines and celestial objects, as well as the alphabet, numbers, and a small selection of words engraved in a rather medieval-looking font. On top was an equally-ornate planchette, a pack of tea lights, a lighter painted with a spiderweb, and a sticky-note addressed to him.

“Dean,

Have fun ;) Break ends at 1 am, going into town. Don’t burn down the cabin.”

Dean had sighed, rolling his eyes and mourning his choice of summer job. Charlie had sung the praises of her childhood camp to him when he had mentioned his search, leading Dean to sign up as a counselor.

One of the kids, a little girl named Ella, was calling for Dean. He shook himself back to focus to see her frustratedly trying to work the lighter. The kids had set up a wobbly circle of candles around the board, and were clustered around it. Ella’s nose is scrunched up with concentration, and Dean pushes himself out of his chair to light the candles for them. He deftly sets the tea lights alight, and the room starts to smell of beeswax. One of the kids has scrambled over to the lightswitch, and with a flick of a switch, the cabin is filled with warm, flickering candlelight.

The kids promptly start an eager discussion of the proper way to summon a ghost, and Dean so desperately wants to just go to bed. Sure, his dad had been a little over-interested in these sorts of things, but that sure as hell didn’t mean he was going to pull out his childhood familiarity with the paranormal. He can almost see himself as a young child in their faces, bright with eager curiosity and uninhibited trust in the world around them. His chest twinges a bit at the thought, but he catches himself before he can start to dwell on his family issues. He and Sam are out now, out and living their lives. He can be a camp counselor now, he can think about the cute guy in charge of Cabin Three with the blue eyes and not hate himself for it. Dean chuckles, leaning back in his chair, and jokingly calls out, “You should try Latin.”

Charlie, a tall, gangly kid with serious eyes and a way of walking that vaguely reminded Dean of a bird, bounces in their seat at this suggestion. “I know Pig Latin! My cousin taught me!”

This new addition is eagerly accepted by the children, who clearly have decided that this is quite a good substitute for proper Latin. Dean closes his eyes and yawns, mind drifting to thoughts of rest and the chocolate bar he had stashed in his backpack. He could almost fall asleep here, listening to the crackle of the candles and the pounding of the rain outside. Reluctantly keeping himself awake, he tuned back in to hear the group chanting something that with translation was most definitely “ghosts of Lakeside Camp, we summon you” interspersed with humming of what might have been the camp theme song, and which also may have been some pop song Dean can’t conjure the name of. Their voices start to crescendo, getting more discordant but also more eager. All at once, there’s a pounding knock on the door combined with a boom of thunder, then a flash of lighting. One voice lets out a quickly-muffled scream as a gust blows through the cabin and extinguishes the candles. The cabin goes silent but for the rain, full of wide eyes and scared faces.

Dean looks around and as he opens his mouth to comfort his campers, is interrupted by another knock. He silently moves to the door, opening it a crack so as to not startle the campers. When he locks eyes with Cabin Three’s counselor, dripping wet and wiping rain off his face, Dean decides that this is either his lucky day or the gods cursing him. Only one way to find out, he thinks.

“Man, you’re drenched.” he says, and immediately curses internally. What an introduction. The man blinks a few times, and responds entirely genuinely, “My umbrella broke. May I come in?”

“Oh- yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll grab you a towel.” Dean swings the door open, and the man steps in, only to be greeted by twelve terrified faces.

“Yeah, um, sorry about that everyone. This is just… uh-” he glances over at the man, who realizes after a moment what Dean is asking for. “Castiel. I’m Cabin Three’s counselor.” The kids murmur amongst themselves before one speaks up.

“You’re not a ghost, right?”

Castiel squints, and Dean can’t help but find it adorable. “Not as far as I know.”

Hurrying off to grab a towel, Dean rifles through his suitcase before returning with his pool towel and handing it to Castiel. He gladly accepts it, and promptly wanders off to stand in a corner and attempt to dry his rain-drenched hair.

Dean spends the next hour herding campers through the process of getting ready for bed, sneaking conversation with Castiel in between. However, all this does is further send Dean absolutely further into his developing crush. With every sentence exchanged, Cas is nothing but clever, kind, and utterly unlike anyone Dean has ever met. By the time the kids are all asleep and the cabin is tidied up, the rain has subsided into a light drizzle. Cas, though, makes no mention of leaving. Instead, he and Dean wander out onto the porch to continue talking. By the time Dean’s co-counselor returns, Cas has to excuse himself back to his cabin. As Dean turns to go inside, Cas calls out and offers a folded piece of paper. Before Dean can open it, he smiles a beautifully soft smile, turns on his heel, and vanishes into the foggy night.

When Dean opens the paper later that night, he can’t contain the smile that breaks out over his face.

“Dean,

Go out with me tomorrow? I know a place I think you’d like.

Cas <3”

When they get ice cream the next day, they share a kiss over a sundae and Dean decides that taking this job was the best decision he’s made yet.

#spn #supernatural #supernatural fic #destiel #destiel fic #deancas edit #deancas fic #userstarry #my work

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lilyharvord · 3 years

Note

If you get the chance can you write a short fanfic about mare having baby fever? LOL the idea just popped in my head of like all her friends having kids and baby clara making it extreme and at first shes all like no kids and suddenly is like to cal gimme like 10, and ofc hes happy to do so :)

I love conflicted Mare. :))))

Baby Fever Drabble

“He’s gorgeous Lou.” Ruth announced as she held her fifth grandchild, and bounced him until he cooed and then gurgled. Turning to face the window so the light shone down on the massive blanket she was cradling, Ruth glanced him over again. The room was mostly empty, a majority of the cousins had been shuttled out to the little café downstairs to grab breakfast, and the rest of Mare’s family had gone with them. It was just her, Tramy, Lou, their daughter Elowyn, Bree’s eldest son Wes, Clara, Farley, and Ruth. It was nice though, the room had been so loud a couple minutes ago. Silence was precious by this point.

Glancing over her shoulder, Ruth grinned at her daughter. “Mare have you held him yet?”

Glancing up from listening to Wes as he chattered her ear off about the frogs he’d caught over the weekend with Kilorn, Mare shook her head. Next to her, Clara was napping in Farley’s lap after trying to stay awake all night waiting for her cousin to arrive, and stirred before sighing and settling again.

Before Mare could protest Ruth had already slipped the baby into her arms. “Oh, um, I—” He was heavy and Mare had to stifle a grimace as she imagined how much Lou’s back must have hurt the entire pregnancy. She seemed pretty content now though, and Tramy looked more like a bird puffing out it’s chest, as if he did anything for the past nine months. Their daughter Elowyn was napping in his arms exhausted just like Clara. How had her family gotten so big in the past few years? It seemed like the number of nieces and nephews had multiplied exponentially when she turned her back for a day. First Bree and Tora had Wes, and then Elowyn came along, and then Bree and Tora had announced the twins, and now there was this new baby. Even Sara and Julian had one of their own, a toddler now who stared at her like Julian used to over his desk. Everytime she turned around there was a new baby, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t felt an… itch.

Because that was really all it was for a bit, just an itch. She scratched it by watch Wes and Elowyn, and babysitting Clara for a day. But after the twins and this baby, that itch was like a crawling wave all over her body. It drove her insane that she was thinking about it all the time. She’d think about it for hours while lying in bed, just watching Cal sleep. She’d think about it while making coffee, and while she showered and while she trained. She had started noting any new baby at the little market near her apartment every time she went. And a week ago, she’d almost not taken that little white pill that ensured everything stayed exactly as it was. When she had done that, she realized there might be a problem.

Her nephew yawned, stretching tiny pink lips into a perfect circle before closing his eyes. Ruth had been right, he was gorgeous. With little tufts of bronze hair, and delicate cheek bones that no baby really needed. Honestly, it was surprising Lou had let anyone else hold him. If this was her baby, Mare wouldn’t have let anyone near him. Her baby would be a lot prettier, she decided right then and there. Not that it mattered, she wasn’t planning on having a baby… ever. Mare Barrow was not built to be a mother. She was a wonderful aunt, because she could give the baby back whenever she needed to, and she could leave for the front whenever she was called for like she had to do. A baby did not fit into that mix.

But a baby that was half her and half Cal? She’d been thinking about it again yesterday while Cal was leaned over the sink shaving. It would be a boy, she decided that while he ran the razor over his jaw. He’d have Cal’s height, and build, and maybe a few of his other features. Those amber eyes wouldn’t hurt, and that smile? Well, maybe not the smile. That smile is what made her fall in love with Cal, and she could not deal with a string of broken hearts trailing her son around. Because without a doubt he would have her track record in that department. He’d have a face that was impossible to say no to, and a laugh that made her world a little bit brighter every time he let it loose. She’d name him Shade. It had been something itching at the back of her mind ever since her brothers had decided not to name any of their sons that.

“Now that is a sight.” Farley teased, making Mare startle and wake the baby in her arms.

Glaring at her friend, who smirked in response, Mare grumbled. “What’s a sight?”

“That face tells me you’re weighing the consequences and options.” Farley at least had the decency to drop her voice when she said that. It still brought all the blood to Mare’s cheeks at the insinuation, and the fact that she had been so obviously caught. She recovered quick enough that she wasn’t completely embarrassed though.

“What consequences and options?”

“Nine months doesn’t seem too long anymore does it, Mare?” Farley shrugged as she shifted Clara and went to rise from the plastic couch they’d occupied for the better part of three hours. “And besides,” bending down so her next words were for Mare only, Farley tilted her head in mock consideration, “Making it will probably be the fun part for you.”

If she didn’t need both hands to hold a baby, she would have actually slapped Farley for that. Mare’s neck joined her cheeks in burning bright red, and she tried to shrink away from that searching smile.

“You were thinking about it.”

“I wasn’t thinking about anything.” Mare grumbled before getting up as well, forcing Farley back a step so they didn’t smack foreheads. She stole across the room and deposited Tramy’s son in Lou’s arms, before trying to slip out of the room at the same speed. But Farley knew her too well, and Mare cursed her short legs once more when Farley’s strides caught up with hers.

“Just admit it, you have baby fever.” Farely teased as she shifted Clara to a better hold so she could nudge Mare’s shoulder. Not expecting the push, Mare stumbled to the side, and glared as Farley laughed.

Crossing her arms and standing her ground, she looked Farley up and down. The general was still beautiful, and would remain that way for the rest of her life probably. Even balancing a child on her hip, she was imposing. Mare twisted her lip at the thought. With a baby on her hip, Mare knew she would be far less terrifying.

“I don’t have baby fever because I don’t want kids.”

“For someone who doesn’t want them, you spend an awful lot of time staring wistfully at your husband while he plays with them.” Farley raised a brow, and smothered another smile which only made Mare raise her chin in argument. Even if she was right, she didn’t have to state that out loud within earshot of anyone.

“I don’t stare wistfully.” She argued, the words clipped and sharp. Like Farley, she had her own military tone now. It normally refuted any argument before it could begin, but Diana Farley had never been afraid of her. And that was not going to change with a few sharp words.

Rolling her eyes with a mocking nod, Farley turned on her heel to continue down the hallway. “Of course Mare.”

“I don’t!” Mare shouted at her back, drawing the attention of a nurse at one of the stations. Glaring in the woman’s direction, Mare stomped after Farley. It was pointless to refute whatever thought her friend had, because she wasn’t wrong. Mare just refused to admit it. She did sometimes catch herself sitting on her parent’s back porch watching Cal play with the horde of cousins. He never got tired of it, and the way he laughed when he was with them sometimes bit at her heart. They all adored him, and followed him around as much as the young Ardents had at the Notch. She knew he’d caught her watching a few times, and had given her a knowing, bittersweet smile she never returned.

And sure they’d… talked about things like that. But never seriously. It was always after one too many glasses of wine when they were sprawled out of the couch half-dressed and teasing. Fantasizing about kids was fine then, because they still didn’t physically exist. And Cal had never made an overt moves or comments to tell her that he wanted to have kids right this second. What if she was the only one feeling the itch this strongly and he shot down her idea? He was just as practical, if not more than her sometimes. They both knew the truth and the risk of having a child far outweighed the idea of having it. There were too many variables they couldn’t control, too many horrible outcomes that they’d face. It was better to just fantasize.

“It’s too dangerous.” Mare spoke quietly, and even though she thought her friend wasn’t listening, it got Farley’s attention.

Pausing so Mare could catch up, Farley raised her brow again. “What isn’t dangerous in this life Barrow?”

“This would be even more so. The Silver Secession has not let up, and with the State still in a precarious position—”

“The States will always be in a precarious position. It’s the nature of that mess of a country.” Farley argued with a huff. She wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t change the fact that Cal was always going to be running back and forth to uphold his duties as a general.

Pursing her lips in irritation, Mare glanced to the side to avoid Farley’s stare. No matter how many times she faced it, it still cut her to the core. Those diamond hard eyes were too perceptive, and they always found the truth, even when Mare buried it deep.

“I think there is something else keeping you. You’ve never been worried about the Secession and you’ve never been worried about Cal and the States.” Farley tilted her head to the side before shifting Clara again. The young girl blinked awake, honey eyes still dreamy as she looked at her mother and then at Mare. “But you’re obviously not ready to talk about it.”

Shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket, Mare fidgeted with her ring. She knew there was a truth, a deep one she didn’t want to admit. A fear that ran deeper than the pestering Silver Secession and the nagging worry when Cal was gone in the States. It had haunted her for her whole life, and it would probably continue to do so.

“When you want to talk about it,” Farley whispered, her voice slipping into that gentle tone she so rarely used, “I am all ears Barrow.”

Mare considered it for half a second and opened her mouth to say something, only for the doors to burst open next to them and the twins to race by her, shouting like banshees. Clara perked up immediately, and squirmed until Farley sighed and set her down to race after the rest of the cousins. They all skidded around the corner together, pushing and giggling as they went. Craning her neck to make sure they went the right way, Farley sighed before turning back to Mare with an expectant eye.

Bree’s shoved his way between them though, grinning down at Mare and saying, “Pardon me, didn’t see you there.”

“Very funny. The short jokes died when we were ten, Bree.” Mare let a few sparks snap at his elbow as he tried to avoid her. Yelping at the sensation, he rubbed the spot and glowered like a child at her.

“Glad I’m not the only who gets that punishment.” Cal’s warmth always proceeded him, and this time was no different. Sliding an arm around Mare’s shoulders he pulled her close. “Is Lou finally sleeping?”

Pushing Bree along when he tried to linger, Farley responded for her. “Doubtful. The baby will want to eat, and then he’ll have to be passed around like a sack of potatoes for a little bit longer before she can sleep.”

“Sounds miserable.” Cal’s hand slid along her shoulders until his fingers brushed along Mare’s neck, tracing scars that he knew like a roadmap. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, and brought goosebumps to the surface. Glancing up, she considered him for a heartbeat. Maybe he hadn’t been joking when he told her she’d look lovely pregnant, when she’d insisted she wouldn’t. Maybe he had been serious when he said they should consider moving to the same neighborhood as Bree and Tora. Maybe he had been feeling this insatiable itch just as long as her.

When she finally dragged her eyes away from his profile, it was to see Farley struggling to hide a smirk. Even though it was completely childish, Mare stuck her tongue out at her bitterly.

“I obviously missed whatever just happened.” Cal’s hand slid away from her, but not before Mare caught it and laced her fingers with his.

“Farley’s being annoying, which is why we’re leaving.” Mare announced before pulling him toward the doors. Farley only laughed in response to her.

Throwing one more good glare over her shoulder as she pushed Cal through the doors, Mare stuck her tongue out one more time.

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

Siren Song: The Mer

Follow-up to Anacapa’s Own: Get to Know the Mer on Everyone’s Minds

CW: Dehumanization, nonhuman whumpee, blood, shoulder injury, drugging, abduction, nonconsensual touching (nonsexual)

The night is deep, the mer is alone.

He feels held in the warmth of it, as though he were still a small calf cradled in his mother's arms.

The dark air is indistinguishable from the ocean, except for the difference in the inflation of lungs or the cool rush of water along gills. The sky above is full of stars, a bright full moon shining a stripe of light along a calm sea.

The mer slaps his tailfin to watch water burst upwards in a shimmer edged in white. Like smooth fishbelly just before he bites down, the pretty fish that live near the mating grounds. They shimmer like this.

What he loves most about the nights is the sky full of stars. The mer thinks sometimes the sky must be as deep as the darkest places beneath him, those places in the ocean where the weight of the water will flatten unlucky mer dragged down by the monsters that live in the trenches. Even the Big Teeth, the black-and-whites who sometimes talk to the mer families, wouldn't go so deep even if they could breathe water like the mer.

What the monsters wait for, the mer don’t know.

But they know better than to find out.

The mer boy drifts with the softest dip and rise of the water beneath him, floating on his back looking up at the brilliance of stars. His fingers splay with the webbing stretched between them, settled out to either side. He can feel the water as it moves against the fin on his back, at his elbows, lapping just at the edges of his ears.

The water is getting colder.

The time the sun spends warming the upper layers is lessening each day, and so the mer knows that soon his family will come back.

They should have at least five new baby calves for him to meet, tucked beside their mothers. The others his age will have stories about the days spent exploring, scaring the brightly colored schools into scattering, burying themselves in sand. He will miss getting the chance to do it all himself, but the stories will help him enjoy the long swim towards the brightest star.

What he dreams about is when they’ll be back home in the coldest waters, where there is warmth that simmers beneath the earth to keep their dwellings comfortable in the village while they spend the winter doing slow, soft things. They will help the new calves grow and flourish, so they will be ready for the long swim to come again in spring.

He’s not worried - his pod will know where they lost him and come back.

He only has to wait.

He tilts his head, taking in a mouthful of water, spitting salt up into the sky and then closing his eyes tight as it splatters back down over his face. Waiting is… hard.

It feels like all he does is wait - he swims around in the same circles, suns his thick, smooth skin and shimmery iridescent scales on the same rocks, letting the sun dry the salt in his pale hair. Waiting is hard, but they will come to bring him home, soon soon soon, and he can wait for them.

At least there are many birds and fish here, so he won’t go hungry. And the ones who don’t swim are always interesting to see. They stumble around on legs, live only on the little lands that break up the oceans, and they’re always fun to say hello to.

The mer likes to smack his tail in the water to see their small dark eyes turn his way, and their unwebbed fingers like bits of driftwood pointing at him, the bright colors they drape on themselves like a beacon of poison, a warning, only the mer knows they don't wear them that way.

He likes them.

They come out in big fake whales made of ringing metal that make it hard to hear under the water, but they smile and wave, and the mer has learned to wave back. Sometimes they throw him things, although other ones yell at them when they do. Sometimes the ones who all wear the same colors will come and sit by his favorite rock.

He likes them and their legs, but he likes the ocean more. He can’t imagine a life spent breathing only air.

Drifting in the water, he can feel, through the smallest vibrations in his fins and fingers, one of their big metal whales somewhere nearby, unseen in the dark. He turns his head and trains his eyes, thinking maybe he can see where the metal whale is blocking some of his view of the stars.

Then he hears it, low and mournful, and twists over to sink beneath the water and listen to see if he hears the sound again.

His podsong.

Not all of them, not even most, but he can hear their voices raised, some of them, together. They are singing, and calling out, for him. Missed you, missed you, come to us, come home. A shiver runs through the mer from where his hair drifts around him to the very tip of his tailfin’s long, fluttering edges.

His pod has come back.

He zips through the water then, following the sound. The land-walkers have nice voices but they don’t sing, not like this, with voices made for traveling through the waters. There’s something odd about the podsong that he can’t place, some tinniness to its sound, but maybe that is just distance, or some way the sound moves. He calls back, pulling on the primary vocal chords, the sound vibrating down through him to the tips of his fingers.

Missed you, missed you, I’m coming, I want to go home.

He is joyful as he follows the podsong, as it gets loud enough to surround him and warm him like an embrace. He will miss the land-walkers, and he is sorry not to say goodbye, but his family is here and he thinks that the land-walkers have pods, too, just very small ones. They’ll understand.

He calls out, again and again, but the podsong of his family never changes. A stir of unease takes his joyful rush of blood and nips cold at it like the calves at fish from their mother’s hands, and he slows, finally coming to a stop. He should have seen them by now, or there should have been some change in the song as they saw him.

He should have felt the way they would move the water around them, the sense of them even from this far. He should... but he doesn’t.

He clicks, soft and puzzled. No one clicks back.

The big metal whale from earlier is nearby when he pops his head up out of the water again, looking as the rivulets run down his face to see if he will see his pod breaking the water, a sign of them other than the song.

“There he is.”

The sound is distant, and the words don’t mean anything to the mer - they are the mush-mouth way that land-walkers speak. There must be some up on the metal whale, and he cranes his head back to look up at it, lifting his hand in an echo of the wave they have taught him on their visits.

No one comes at night, not since the standoff between the island land-walkers and the metal whale land-walkers, that had ended with shouting and fists shaken and the mer hiding in the smallest place he could find under the water, hugging the coast of his favorite islet.

“Got him.”

Flash of cool moonlight on something in a land-walker’s hands, a bright burst of something like light, and then the mer’s shoulder erupts with pain.

He screams, a shrieking cry that bounces off the water and the metal of the land-walker’s whale, thrashing, his hands up to try and pull out the long dark cold stick that has burst through his shoulder. It has a rope attached, and as the mer tries to slice at it with the claws on his fingers, it pulls quickly taut and the pain of it pulls him through the water, closer to the whale.

He cries for his family and pleads in wailing for the pain to end, but the podsong continues on and on as though they can’t hear him at all. He is dragged to the big whale like a calf pulled away from inattentive parents by a shark, and he keens as he claws at the thing in his shoulder. The drag of it feels like it will pull his body apart. He splashes loud, manages to throw himself up and back against the water, slapping his tail as hard as he can, again and again, making sounds he knows will carry far. His pod will hear the warning in the splash, they will scent the blood that he is losing even now to the water. They’ll know to avoid it, the big whale.

Why do they keep singing the same song, when he is calling for help?

When he’s close to the boat, the pulling stops, and for a second he is left to thrash and try to pull the thing from his shoulder, keening, his hands slick with his own blood, shuddering at the unending pain.

Then there’s a clunk, the soft whirrrrrr of land-walker machinery, and the mer feels himself closed in by a thousand knotted ropes that pull tight at the top, capturing him in what he understands is a land-walker’s fishing net as it lifts him out of the water up alongside the whale.

They have no good teeth or claws, so they use the nets, and every calf knows to avoid them. The mer cannot escape, no matter how he thrashes and fights, and the net swings horribly in empty open air.

He gasps, choking until he remembers to use lungs and not gills, and the net moves, bringing him over the top of the metal whale, before lowering him down to its floor. The pain throbs from his shoulder down through every inch of his body and his tail flops, miserably, as he tries to fight his way free of the net to no avail.

“Turn off the speaker.”

The mer doesn’t know these words. But a moment later the podsong stops, stops all at once mid-word, and the mer cries, thrashing harder. His pod is so close by, and they gave up so quickly. He calls and calls but they don’t sing again.

“God, listen to it. That’s beautiful. Recordings just don’t do it justice, do they?”

The land-walker’s voice is too close and the mer twists in the net. It goes from horror to hiding place, all at once, and he curls up under the heavy lines of rope, groping weakly at the thing through its shoulder, but it doesn’t budge.

He looks with wide, terrified eyes as a land-walker female moves towards him, dressed in black so her pale skin seems to float through the air, just a head and eyes, hands. Her hair is back like a tail - he has seen some of the ones who visited him wear it like that - and she moves into a crouch, arms resting at her knees, looking at him with a soft smile.

A man behind her speaks, and she speaks back to him. Their words are mush, they are sharp, spiky dead coral, and the mer looks from one to the other and understands nothing. He calls for help from his pod again, to a dull, dead silence that sends dread rippling through him stronger than the pain.

He doesn’t understand why his pod isn’t coming. They were right there.

“Shoot it. If it keeps making sounds like that, we’ll have the fucking park rangers to deal with again.”

“Oh, hush, Anders. We’ll be long gone before they notice anything’s missing. But fine.” There is a new thing in her hands, like the thing that sent the metal stick through his shoulder but smaller, and then mer whimpers in panic, curling up around his tail. He cannot imagine any more pain, and his blood is slicking the floor beneath him purple in the darkness already. “Sssshhhh,” She says, gently, and he clicks at her in a kind of useless warning to stay away.

It’s no good. He can’t do anything, wrapped up in their net like a fish.

“Careful-”

“I know what I’m doing.” Her fingers find a hole in the net and grip tightly into the mer’s pale hair, yanking his head back with precision and without gentleness. “Let’s get you some rest so I can deal with the harpoon.”

“It’s not strictly a harpoon-”

“Anders.” The rounded end of the thing in her hand presses through the net against his neck, just beneath his ear-fin and above his gills. There’s a click - he flinches - and then a sudden new pinch of pain that fades as quickly as it came. She lets go and scrambles back as he tries to claw at her, just missing the swipe of his fingers, the gnash of sharp teeth. “There we go.”

The world spins, suddenly, and the mer’s limbs feel heavy, dropping to the floor with his head. He chirps, weak and scared.

Something is very wrong.

He tries to call out to his pod again, but his song is warbling, too soft to carry.

“Get him into the travel tank and we’ll move him to the facility.”

“Warehouse.”

“Anders-”

“All right, all right.” Footsteps moving away, and the mer blinks slowly, blearily up at the woman as she smiles down at him.

“I know this was a rough way to meet each other,” She says, and he wonders at the nonsense words and why she bothers to say them. “But don’t worry. I know how to care for you.” His head thumps uselessly into the floor, unable to so much as move, and the salt of the ocean is the same as his tears. Her blunt dull fingers are back in his hair, then, but more gentle, and he whimpers. His body trembles, waves of whole-body shivers, and his gills shift, open and close, desperate for the rush of water against them. He has to breathe with his lungs, through the slits on his face, and it’s tough to breathe deeply enough when his whole body feels like it has been weighed down. It takes all his effort simply to breathe in and breathe out. “Sssshhhh, you’re okay. It’s okay to be scared. But we’re going to learn so much about you.”

She pets him, like the land-walkers pet their own animals, and the mer is so, so afraid.

“Look at you, you’re so scared.” He turns, tries to snap at her arm with sharp teeth, only to have her shake his head violently enough that he feels like his mind is rattling. “Hey now, none of that.”

Her hand moves, closing over the thing that is still stuck through his shoulder, weeping red-violent blood, and she pulls, just a little. The pain is too much even for the mer to make a sound. His vision goes white, and his mouth is an O, gasping, rigid as he waits for the swell of agony to recede, to shift away like the tide from the shore.

“Remember, we have a deal,” The man from before says, and the mer stares blankly in his direction. The meaningless sounds wash over him, they don’t land, they fly away. His ear-fins twitch a little, as he hears a low sound from a great distance. “Shit, we need to hurry. We have a deal, still, right?”

The woman looks up at him, briefly, and the mer doesn’t know their words but he sees the disdain on the woman’s face. “Of course we do. I get what I want, you get what’s left. Get us out of here, Anders.”

The man walks away, and the woman goes back to rubbing just under his ear-fin, and the mer wonders, still, why his pod stopped singing so suddenly. Were they also caught in the nets? Were they also hurt by the sharp thing in his shoulder to pull them close enough to catch? Why did he hear them and not see them, or hear their bodies in the water?

The woman moves to cup the back of his head with her hand, and she does a grotesque expression that shows all of her flat white teeth. Her voice when she speaks is strange, falsely soothing, like a mother cooing to a calf but without love. Sh rubs her thumb over the spot below his ear where he had felt the pinch that turned him into this useless lump, maybe dying here on the metal whale, with no water to take his body back home.

He shudders. The spot she is touching is a spot that only mates touch on each other, and the mer feels his stomach flip and twist in nausea, clicking in disgust at the violation. She doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’m Dr. Rachel, little thing, and I’m going to take really, really good care of you.”

The metal whale jerks into sudden motion and the mer can only raise his eyes, with difficulty, to watch the stars.

The night is deep, and the mer is alone.

----

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @misspelledwitch

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square-blunt · 3 years

Text

It's honor among theives, it's all that we've got.

Just a silly little c!karlnapity fic I've been working on. It's a little out dated but yknow, it is what it is.

Tw- Major ptsd, trauma/abuse flashback, panic/anxiety attack, it's lovely for Q Wc: 1624 AO3:link

It’s early in the morning, light filtering in through the blinds, dust suspended in the air. Quackity turns over, trying desperately to hold onto the remnants of sleep. The birds grow louder, as does the soft drone of life outside the walls, and he realizes his attempt to slip back into unconsciousness will be unsuccessful. He lets sleep slide from his grasp. Q sits up, and the room is a lot colder than he’d hoped. He bends sideways, feeling around for a hoodie he might have thrown on the floor last night, finds one, and tugs it over his head. There’s a knock at the far door, and he smiles as his partners walk in, padding across to him with a tray of food, very loudly- and badly- singing happy birthday. Q’s grin grows wider as he notices that he’s not wearing his own hoodie, but one that belongs to one of his boyfriends- the one who’s putting the tray down on his lap- and his other slides into bed next to him to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, Q!!” Karl grins, handing him a napkin.

“Happy, happy,” Sapnap says, immediately cutting off a piece of pancake and shoving it in Quackity’s mouth. Q groans and playfully smacks Sapnap’s hand, and the fork, away.

“Thank you, I’m gonna be honest I was not expecting you guys to do this- I forgot about today completely, anyways.” Q, mumbling around the bite of a rather dry pancake, takes the fork and knife back from Sapnap.

“Of course we would, we fucking love you, dude.” Sapnap adjusts his position to lean back against the bed frame, steading the tray with one hand.

“I know that, dumbass, but I didn’t even ask you to do this- like I said, I forgot that today was my birthday at all.” Q fidgets with the fork.

“Well, we didn’t- Sapnap didn’t at least,” Karl says, giggling- Q loved that little laugh he does.

“You didn’t have to ask us- don’t tell me you’ve never had breakfast in bed before,” Sapnap says.

“I- no, I guess I haven’t-” Q begins.

“In all your years no one’s ever brought you breakfast in bed?” Karl asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I mean, yeah, once, but I kinda spilled it everywhere.” Quackity tries to put a lightness in his voice, but Quackity couldn’t really manage it. He did have breakfast in bed once. The reason he got it was because he couldn’t get out of bed in the first place, the night before that had been absolutely awful. Maybe the worst of his life-

“Was that when you were a kid? You got someone to do it again?” Sapnap reaches over and sneaks a piece of bacon and stuffs it in his mouth, snapping Quackity back to reality.

“Not exactly. I- I didn’t know that was something you could do when I was a kid, and, uh, y’know, there’ve been only a few people willing to do… this… for me at all anyways,” Q mumbles, passing the fork through his fingers. He hopes they don’t press any further.

“Well, had it or not, you have hardly eaten anything so hush and let me feed you.” Karl seems to have completely missed what Quackity just said, and he was relieved.

“Wait- no- Karl I wanna do that.” Sapnap grabs the fork out of Quackity’s hand again, making the coffee mug teeter. Quackity shoots out a hand to steady it.

“Hey that’s not fair you get to sit next to him I wanna do it.” Karl crawls over Quackity’s legs and reaches out for Sapnap-

“Hey- guys-” the plate is sliding around on the tray, and Quackity would very much like to not stain the sheets. Not more than they already were, at least-

“You got to bring the tray to him I wanna do it-” Sapnap rotates away, hiding the fork- and his knee pops up, flipping the tray over. Quackity holds onto the steaming hot coffee mug, so at least that didn’t burn him, but the pancakes, bacon, and eggs fly everywhere. The plate bounces off the bed and shatters on the floor, leaving a sticky circle in its wake. The three of them are silent- but Quackity’s head rings with the sound of the plate breaking. It sounds so much like glass. It sounds like glass breaking. It sounds like a bottle being thrown and hitting a wall, missing your head by inches. It sounds like him. The tray clatters to the floor, but Quackity pays it no mind. The sound of shattering glass, porcelain, is drowning out the sound of his breathing, of the blood rushing through his skull. He doesn’t know if Karl and Sapnap are talking to him and quite frankly he doesn’t care. He doesn’t know where he’s looking, the image doesn’t make it to his brain. Another image, a memory, takes its place. He can’t feel the mug in his hands, but he knows it’s there, because every one of his muscles are tensed. He is completely still. He was never able to hurt him if he stood still. The ‘seeing-double’ myth was true and it always worked. If he got drunk, he got drunk enough to see quintuple. He never knew which Quackity to hit. All but once. The morning after, Quackity had leftover steak and potatoes, and a whisky stained kiss, for breakfast.

Quackity jumps as a hand cradles his face, some of the coffee spilling out- he braces himself. The coffee burns his hand. His mind spirals down and crashes back to reality.

“-you ok? Q?” An image of Karl, brushing his hair out of his face, and Sapnap, bent down cleaning up the plate off the floor, attacks his mind. The clinking shards, Karls light breathing and even lighter questions bombard his ears. His eyes sting. He pushes the mug into Karls hand and rushes out of the room, running down the hall and out to the balcony. It’s way too loud out here, too. Birds, cows, sheep, the distant sound of gleeful squeals and song. It’s too bright. There are too many colors. There’s too much going on. He just wants to hide.

“Quackity?” Sapnap calls from down the hall. Quackity loves him but he can’t do this right now. He digs through his pockets, and somehow, he has a three minute invis pot. That’s more than enough. He unstops the bottle, and downs it, the light liquid making his skin feel funny. He’s used to the feeling. He pockets the bottle, and turns down the hallway, Karl has joined Sapnap, the mug still in his hands. They both look really worried. He would be worried, too.

‘They wouldn’t hurt you and you know that. They’d rather die than hurt you. You know that. They’re not like him.’ Q tells himself. Karl and Sapnap pass by him, the breeze they produce ruffles his hair. Q hopes they- wait. He should be hoping they worry. Why is he hiding? He should talk to them about this. He’s running away from it, from them, again. But it's all he knows. Running from people who were supposed to protect him, when they didnt- when they hurt him- they left him- stood by and watched. No one protected him. No one ever cared enough to protect him-

"Sapnap-" Karl is stood in the middle of the hallway, he had come back up after checking for Quackity downstairs. Karl in front of Quackity, and Sapnap responds from a hallway out of Q's sight.

"Sapnap the balcony is open-" Karl says, worry tinting his voice.

"Yeah? Is he on the balcony?" Sapnap jogs back into view.

"Sapnap the front doors are still locked. He'd have left the front doors unlocked if he left through there." After a beat, both Karl and Sapnap break into a sprint down the stairs.

'What are they doing?' Quackity thinks, confused. 'What did it matter if the balcony- was the only way he could have gotten down- oh god-' Quackity runs after them, stopping to grab a bucket, he might be able to find a cow. Out on the patio, Q frantically looks around, trying to find any sign of movement, when a message pings on his wristband.

[S a p N a p]: H a s a n y o n e s e e n Q ?

Does he answer? Does he want- yes. Yes he wants them to find him. Q wants them to know he's safe. He's spent so long hiding from him, he needs to be found now.

/ m s g [S a p N a p]: I ' m s t i l l a t t h e h o u s e

He hears a semi-distant noise, the sound of running, as Karl and Sapnap round a tree and come barreling up the path. Q doesn't trust himself to speak. He reaches out and his hand brushes Karl's arm, and Karl stops.

"Karl?" Sapnap catches himself on the doorframe, and Karl looks down to where Q's hand rests on his arm.

"Quackity?" Karl asks, looking about three inches left to where Q actually is. Q squeezes Karl's arm. "You're invisible, honey." He covers Q's hand with his own, a twinkle in his eye.

"Is he here?" Sapnap walks up to them, and Q cups Sapnap's face with his other hand. Sapnap jumps, obviously, but still swoops in for a hug, getting Karl, but completely missing Q.

Quackity laughs. He joins the hug for himself, sandwiched in between Karl and Sapnap, and very faintly, "Thank you for not being like him."

The invis wears off.

Quackity doesn't need to hide.

He's been found.

#tw trauma #tw abuse #tw ptsd #tw panic attack #tw anxiety attack #karlnapity #c!karlnapity #dream smp #dsmp #dsmp writing #c!sapnap #c!karl #c!quackity #sapnap #karl jacobs #quackity #i miss them :pensive:#gremtalks

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broadstbroskis · 4 years

Text

surprises- pt 8 | mat barzal

oooffff it’s been quite a long journey and thanks for sticking with me through the wait! it’s finally here- the next and last part of surprises! thanks to everyone for reading, thanks for all your lovely feedback and kind words throughout this series, and all the support as i worked through this last part! it’s meant the world to me and i hope you all enjoy this last part!

When you wake up one morning to absolute silence, you get suspicious. No baby cries, no sounds of Mat breathing next to you, nothing.

But when you investigate, you find Mat sprawled out on the couch, holding Maeve against his chest, and they’re both passed out. She’s grown, definitely grown a lot since you brought her home, but his hand still covers most of her body. You reach for your phone, snapping a picture (to add to the many you’ve taken of the two of them over the past month), only to fumble it when you see the instagram notification on the front screen.

Mat’s tagged you in a post and you sit down on the floor in front of the two of them as you slide to open it. And then, you gasp, immediately reaching to cover your mouth and hide the sound, as you look through the roll of pictures that Mat posted.

One Month with Maeve: You Like: eating, sleeping, anything your mom does You Dislike: tummy time

When you look up, Mat’s watching you, with a hopeful look on his face. “Hi.” He says quietly.

“Hi.” You return, flipping your phone around to him. “I call bullshit.”

He laughs-gently and quietly, so as not to wake Maeve-and then grins. “Oh yeah? On what?”

“That she likes anything I do.” Maeve’s just...so content anytime she’s in Mat’s arms. Anytime he’s just in her proximity. She’s recently started to recognize his voice, turning her head for it anytime she hears it...sometimes even over FaceTime. “You are definitely the favorite.”

Mat kisses the top of Maeve’s head gently; it’s a favorite thing for both of you right now, you’re pretty sure. “Maybe, but we still like anything you do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “We?”

“Yeah, both of us.” Mat says, like it’s something he says everyday, totally normal and casual.

Cheeks flushed, you stand up. “I’m going to go make breakfast.”

“We’ll come.” Mat stands, careful not to jostle Maeve too much.

“You don’t have to.” You offer. You know how tired he is all the time now, between Maeve and playoffs. He could use all the rest he can get.

“I want to.” Mat settles himself on one of the chairs by the counter and re-adjusts Maeve. “I feel like I barely get to see you guys right now.”

“Somebody’s gotta pay off that nice, big house.” You chirp, pulling out the eggs to make omelets.

Mat laughs. “Can’t even move into it yet and it’s already costing me money.”

“Don’t think about the price tag until you get paid this summer.”

“Once again. You cannot max out my credit card in the Target Home Section. Even with a bonus this year.”

“I gave you the most perfect human ever and this is how you repay me?’

Mat looks down at Maeve, unable to stop the smile that grows over his face, and in return, you feel one spread across yours as you watch him. “Go crazy.”

-----

Two Months with Maeve: You Like: the new hockey mobile Uncle Tito bought you, when your mom and i talk to you You Dislike: the carseat, more tummy time

When you slip into Maeve’s nursery in the new house (just barely unpacked, but still the most unpacked room in the entire house by far), Mat’s got the same sad look on his face that he’s worn for the last three days, standing in the middle of the room, watching her sleep. You give him a minute, see if he notices your presence, and when he doesn’t acknowledge you, you slide behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, dropping your head between his shoulder blades. “You’re still amazing.”

Mat’s laugh is hollow and you know he’s thinking about how he was held scoreless for the last two games this series, thinking about all the things he could have done differently so that they weren’t eliminated. “You’re biased.”

“Like I’ve ever held back from telling you that you suck before.”

It’s not a smile, but the corner of his lips do turn up. “Fair.”

You smile, hiding the grin in his back. “We’re happy to have you home more.”

“Even though this means we won’t get to put Maeve in the cup?” You can picture his eyebrows raise with the question, even though it’s dark and you’re not even looking at him.

“I mean, she would have looked really cute in it.” You poke his side. “But I’ll get over it. We’ll just have to take cute baby pictures with her somewhere else.”

“You mean, like this new house we just moved into?”

“This new house we just moved into where every room is either filled with boxes or has no furniture?”

You feel Mat hesitate. “Maybe there’s a park nearby.” He says and you laugh.

“Maybe.” You agree, slipping around to curl into his side, so you can both watch Maeve sleep.

-----

Three Months with Maeve: You Like: that new activity mat, music, afternoon walks You Dislike: pop goes the weasel, noisy birds on the walks

“These came out so good.” Molly enthuses, beaming as she stares at the pictures of Maeve that you and Mat had professionally taken, shortly after your conversation about it, to send out in cards to everyone you know.

“Right?” It had taken a little to decide where you wanted to have the pictures taken, the house still not finished and immediately eliminated. Almost all the parks nearby had been eliminated by your photographer due to lighting and the one that hadn’t, had been nixed by you. You and Mat had both scrunched your nose up at the thought of bringing Maeve to the beach already, as well as a few other suggestions. In the end, though, you can’t imagine anyone will be shocked to see the ice rink in the background of a few of the pictures, and it seemed only fitting.

As usual, Maeve’s perfectly at ease in Mat’s arms, who’s beaming down at her, in your favorite shot of the afternoon, as you hang onto his arm gently to keep yourself upright, the same wide grin on your own face as you look at the two of them. There are so many other shots from the day- Mat skating while holding Maeve; the two of you laughing while you move easily on the ice; close ups of Maeve sleeping peacefully in Mat’s arms, just happy to be close to him (unless it’s the proximity to the ice- she is definitely his daughter). And then there’s all the candids.

“Some tough choices for the photo wall.” Molly muses.

“Gonna need lots of frames.” You agree, as the back door opens and Tito walks in, bouncing Maeve gently in his arms, closely followed by Mat and Brian.

“Alright, patio’s done.”

“Perfect!” Molly claps her hands together and you give her a look because she sounds too excited. “Great timing.”

Tito huffs, still bouncing Maeve, who’s smiling away at him and probably going to start giggling at any minute. She’d laughed for the first time last week and it felt like since then, she hadn’t stopped. “We said we’d have it done in time, didn’t we?”

“In time for what?” You press, skeptically.

“Yes, “Molly ignores you completely. “But I honestly didn’t believe you.”

“Rude.” Brian teases. “The lack of faith.”

“Yeah.” Tito adds. “What’d we do to deserve this?”

“What are you three talking about?” Mat huffs, and you feel ten times better already that you’re not the only one left out.

“Oh!” Molly blinks, like it’s only just occurred to her that she hasn’t actually told you what’s going on yet. “Right. You two are going out tonight. We made you a dinner reservation and we’re going to stay here and babysit while you do.”

You hesitate, relieved that when you look over to meet Mat’s eyes, you see the same look. “I don’t know.”

“We’re not going to force you to go.” Brian says, before Molly or Tito can jump in, with what’s certain to be a much less soft comment. “We just thought you could use a couple hours out. Without having to worry.”

It’s not...the worst thought, if you’re honest, and you can see the idea growing on Mat as well. “I mean, we’re probably still going to worry.” He says, even as you can see him start to grin.

“What, now, you don’t trust me with your kid?” Tito says, feigning hurt. “And to think, I almost made godfather.”

“Because YN’s brother almost didn’t show up.” Mat throws back at him.

“Classic Christopher.” You grin at the memory of your brother literally running into the church last month for the baptism only just in time.

“You two go get moving; we promise to take perfect care of your baby.” Molly says.

“Team Baby.” Tito sticks his free hand, the one not holding Maeve to his chest, into the center of the circle you’ve all formed, and stares at you all expectantly, until each one of you piles a hand on top of his. “Team Baby!” He cheers again, and then he steers Maeve over to her activity mat and lies down on the floor with her.

“Go.” Molly gestures and it doesn’t take much more for you and Mat to turn and start getting dressed because that’s her I mean business face. “Dress nice!” She calls after you. “Suit, tie, dress, heels. The works!”

“Where could they possibly be sending us?” Mat mutters as the two of you climb up the steps toward your room, and you hide your snicker much better than he does.

“Mathew!” Molly calls, warningly.

“First shower.” You call dibs to him, and rush past him for it, laughing at the look on his face.

While Mat showers after you, you fix your hair and makeup, and then step into your closet, already pulling a face at all your dresses before you even look at them.

You’re starting to feel more like yourself after giving birth, finally, after three months, but you don’t feel completely there. You’re not sure you ever will, that’ll you’ll ever feel that easy and carefree again, or that you’ll ever look the same again, and you’ve talked with Grace and Lauren, and are coming to terms with it. Have come to terms with it, really. The trade-off for Maeve’s smiles made everything worth it.

But.

But you don’t have a single dress that fits the way you like now.

There are four dresses on the floor of your closet and at least five more that you couldn’t even bring yourself to try on before you find a charcoal colored slip dress that’s covered in a pattern of dark sequins. The strappy heels that go along with it are an old comfort; they, at least, still fit you.

Mat’s holding a tie up in the mirror when you come out of the closet, like he’s debating if he actually has to wear it, but the second he sees you through the glass, his eyes go wide and the tie drops from his hand.

“Now those hands aren’t going to earn you that new contract.” You tease, unable to handle the thick silence that’s fallen between you.

“What?” It’s like he didn’t even hear the joke; his eyes are roaming up and down. “Fuck. You want to skip dinner?”

You actually kinda do. You’d seen Mat leaving the old apartment all spring in a suit on his way to the airport or the arena, all the way up until they’d been eliminated, so maybe it was just the context of the evening, but he looked unreal tonight. You nod, but then immediately bite your lip...which just makes Mat groan. “They’re not going to let us just stay here, though.”

Mat grins, reaching for your hand. “Trust me on this.”

“I do.” You smile at him, squeezing gently in return,

And it takes the two of you almost thirty minutes to leave the house after that, despite the heated looks in your bedroom, because neither of you wants to leave Maeve again once you see her, but Molly shoves you out the door with threats about missing your reservation, and once the door’s closed, that’s all it takes for Mat to turn his gaze right back to you.

There is, blessedly, still furniture in his old apartment, still his as he continues to decide whether to sell it or rent it, and you’ve never been so thankful for his unusual moment of indecisiveness as he lies you down into his old bed, pressing kisses onto any spot of skin he can find.

-----

Four Months with Maeve: You Like: playing with your toes, sitting, laughing and babbling You Dislike: when anyone takes a toy from you

Expecting Mat, you’re a little surprised when you turn and see that the form that’s flopped down in the shade beside you and Maeve is actually Tyson. “How’s my best girl?” He coos at her, as entranced with her as anyone else has been since you and Mat had come up to Canada last week to see Mat’s family.

Maeve giggles, babbling some noises back at him, and reaching her hands out for his curls. “Don’t.” You warn him, but he’d learned that lesson already this week, and he intercepts her with his thumb instead, a wide grin on his face. “Sucker.” You tease.

“How can you say no to this face?” He cries and yeah, when she’s laughing and smiling like that, you can see what he means. Especially because it’s Mat’s smile she seems to have inherited, even if it looks like the rest of Maeve’s features might be all you.

“Mmmm, you get used to it.” You tell him anyway, and Tyson grins knowingly, so you close your eyes, relaxing in the sun for a moment, confident that someone is watching your baby and you can get a few minutes of rest.

It doesn’t last long, because shortly after closing your eyes, you feel something heavy and wet plaster itself to you and you open one eye to glare, which is as much as you can be bothered with out by the lake. “Mat!”

He’s already grinning down at you, water from the lake dripping from his face to yours. “You looked a little hot.”

“I was very comfortable.”

Mat lays his head down on your chest. “Well, now I’m very comfortable.”

“You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” You say, and you don’t need Tyson to laugh to know that you don’t sound serious at all.

“Liar.” Mat says, and you can feel him grinning against your skin. “You love me.”

You pause for a moment, unintentionally, as you move your hand up to play with his hair, but it’s long enough that you feel the smile start to slip from his face. “Yeah.” You tease. “I guess I do.”

Mat’s grin returns and he presses the softest kiss to whatever piece of skin he can reach, but before he can say anything else, Maeve starts babbling away. “I know.” Tyson coos at her. “They’re so cute it’s disgusting.”

“Hey!” Mat frowns. “Let go of my baby so I can push you down.”

Tyson laughs. “Well thanks for that get out of jail free card!”

-----

Five Months of Maeve: You Like: hide and seek, bananas, applesauce You Dislike: peas (can’t blame you, kiddo)

“Do we really want to try peas again so soon?” You frown at Mat, holding up one of the other jars of baby food.

He shrugs. “Gonna have to jump back in eventually.”

You pull a face. “Spoken like the man who didn’t get puked on.”

“We get puked on like ten times a day!”

“It was green!”

He laughs. “I’ll do the peas this time.”

You laugh. Sucker. “Deal.”

It’s super gratifying then, to see that Maeve hates the peas this time just as much as she had before. She’s not about Mat’s airplane noises once she realizes what’s on the spoon he’s trying to feed her with and none of his usual tricks are working to try and calm her down once she starts crying.

But when Mat looks at you for help, you don’t do anything but laugh, continuing to film the entire disastrous event. “Really?” He gives you a look.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” You fire the video off into, like, three different chats- the one with his family, to Team Baby, and the Islanders Moms chat, because he could probably use the ego deflation- and then reach for Maeve, who settles almost instantly against you, her crying quieting as you hold her against your side.

“Sure.” Mat grumbles, dropping the spoon against the high-chair’s table. “All calm now.”

“Oh hush.” You tell him, with a smile, knowing exactly what he’s annoyed about. “You’ll go back to being her favorite in an hour; don’t worry.”

Mat tries to hide his grin by ducking his head to clean the high-chair but you see right through him.

-----

Six Months of Maeve: You Like: bouncing, rolling, wiggling, literally any kind of movement You Dislike: teething (but we dislike you teething too), staying still

“I think she’s going to really start crawling soon.” You remark to Mat, the two of you both seated on the floor, opposite sides of the room, to catch her before she could wriggle into any walls.

She hadn’t quite pushed herself up there yet, but she scooted around pretty well.

“Don’t say that.” Mat groans, reaching out for Maeve and ignoring her cry of protest as he placed her back on the ground, safely away from the wall. She gave him a look, but then went right back to rolling around, rolling onto her back and then over to her stomach again, scooting toward you. “Fuck, imagine when she can walk. Chasing after her.”

“Inability to sit still for sure comes from you.” You try to distract Maeve with a toy, watching as she puts it in her mouth and starts to gnaw on it. Her first tooth had come in the other week, an absolute nightmare, and you were pretty sure another one was following.

“Can’t prove that.” Mat says, eyes fond as he watches Maeve.

“Wanna bet?” You tease. That’s an easy phone call to make.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” Mat beams at you and you burst into laughter because you haven’t showered and you’re covered in baby formula.

“That’s what I thought.” You grin, and then reach out to pull Maeve away from the coffee table.

-----

Seven Months of Maeve: You Like: blocks, knocking down block towers, clapping blocks together, anything blocks You Dislike: noise-cancelling headphones

“These are so cute.” Grace beams, scrolling through the pictures on her phone and simultaneously bouncing a wriggly toddler on her lap. “I’ll send them out as soon as we get upstairs.”

You smile, thanking her already, fixing the earphone covering Maeve’s tiny head. It’s the Islanders’ home opener, Maeve’s first game actually attending, and there’d been a well-documented photo shoot with all the kids prior to the group of you heading down to the glass, to wait for warm ups to start.

She wasn’t a big fan of the headphones you’d placed on her ears, constantly reaching up to bat them off, but she was looking around, eyes wide as she stared at the crowd around her, even after both teams skated out for warm ups, unable to grasp what exactly was happening.

But she was smiling, beaming the whole time, a grin that only got wider when Mat skated up to the glass in front of you and put his fist up against it. She reaches for it as you bring her closer to the glass, grabbing out for it as he taps it with a grin, and then she babbles a bunch of nonsense when she’s stopped by the glass, retracting her hand immediately.

You and Mat both laugh and he gives one last tap on the glass to you both before skating off to rejoin warm ups.

He absolutely lights it up that night, but the gifs of the the three of you at the glass during warmups cycle through the internet for days.

-----

8 Months of Maeve: You Like: your favorite blankie, Cheerios, cheese You Dislike: i really tried with those peas, kid

You’d do literally anything for some sleep right now, even just a power nap. Mat had been gone on a road trip for a few days now, due back shortly, but Maeve had been so clingy the entire time he was gone, not even wanting to be held by Molly when she’d stopped in to visit, and fussing anytime you’d walked away from her.

She was playing with a couple of her toys on the floor right now, and it took everything in you to keep your eyes open to watch over her. You contemplated moving her into her bouncer, even as she kept side-eyeing you to make sure you were still close, just in case you accidentally dropped into a nap.

Suddenly, an arm drops over your shoulders and Mat’s pressing a kiss to your temple. “You look sleepy.”

“I’m exhausted.” You lean against him immediately. “When did you get in?”

“Just now.” He squeezes gently, smiling and waving as Maeve, who’s abandoned her toy the moment she saw him, clapping her hands together and beaming at him, babbling at him happily. “She keeping you up at night?”

“She’s just…” You trail off, not sure how to describe what Maeve is right now. Because on one hand, she’s not normally this clingy, and it’s certainly a change of pace. But it’s not a bad thing to have her so close to you all the time, for her to want to be so close to you- you don’t dislike it at all. “I’m just tired.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead, but before he can say anything, Maeve reaches her arms out for him. “Da!” She’s frowning, probably because Mat’s been ignoring her in favor of you. “Dada!” She reaches out again, and this time Mat’s face lights up, both of yours do, as he sweeps her into his lap.

“Say it again!” Mat prompts, tickling her, which of course doesn’t get her to do anything but giggle.

“Dada.” You try, leaning closer, and she repeats it then, but won’t say it again, for all that Mat tries, struggling out of his arms right after that, to go back to playing.

Mat runs his fingers through his hair, looking absolutely floored, and you still haven’t stopped smiling either. Your baby’s first word! You have to tell everyone! But there’ll be time for that later; Mat’s comfy to lean against right now and he doesn’t look like he wants to go anywhere either, so you press a kiss to his cheek and then lie your head back against his shoulder, content to watch Maeve play with her blocks.

-----

9 Months of Maeve: You Like: walking, giving your mom and I heart attacks while walking You Dislike: sitting still for any length of time (stop laughing at me mom)

“You,” Mat sweeps Maeve off her feet and up into his arms as she toddles past him. “Went from walking to running in like two days! Give your mom and I a rest, kiddo.”

“She gets that from you.” You tell him, tiredly. He’s not wrong though. She’d started pulling herself into standing not long ago, and then shortly after, taken her first steps, and then it felt like the next day, she was off to the races. You spent most of your day chasing her around the house now; she almost never wanted to be picked up anymore.

Even now, she was squirming to get out of Mat’s arms and be back on the ground, already starting to whine about it. Mat obliges, and she takes off- or as well as she can; she hasn’t quite mastered it yet, her feet make that distinct slap noise on the floor that you associate with all babies walking.

Mat chases and brings her back, but you two quickly have to settle each on one side of the room, eyes watching Maeve and turning her between the two of you. “She needs a friend.” You mutter, steering her back towards Mat, for what seems like the hundredth time in ten minutes.

Mat nods furiously. “Suddenly I understand why people have more than one of these.”

You burst into laughter, loud enough that it stops Maeve for a second. But only a second; she’s right back to toddling over toward you, throwing herself at you, giggling along with you for a moment there. “One of these?” You call Mat out, and he joins you in laughing, as Maeve uses your arm to pull herself back up and starts walking again.

Mat shrugs it off laughingly. “You know what I mean.”

You do. “God, I used to not even imagine being able to have another one of her, but god, if another one meant they could entertain each other; I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“I’d have five more if it meant we didn’t have to chase her like this.” Mat pulls Maeve back into the room, a small noise of protest coming from her until he puts her back on the floor.

You give him a look. “You can find someone else to have five more with.”

When Mat smiles at you, it’s softer, not his usual bright beam. “Alright.” He says. “We won’t have five more. Two or three more.” You side-eye him, trying to gauge how serious he is, but he must take your silence for agreement, because then he does beam.

-----

10 Months of Maeve: You Like: patty cake, waving, causing chaos You Dislike: bananas, apparently, even though you loved them last month

“Tito!” You gasp excitedly, only just remembering to pick Maeve up and bring her with you, ignoring her fuss in favor of Mat and Tito walking in the door with something much more exciting. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting a dog?”

Luckily, she’s easily swayed by the dog, eyeing the wriggling puppy in Tito’s arms. She still doesn’t look like she’s 100% certain about it, but it certainly captures her attention; she stops moving in your arms entirely, blinking at the dog, unmoving.

“Uhhh.” Tito says, in response to you, looking at Mat and then back at you. “Not exactly what happened.”

Mat grins. “So you wanted a dog, right?”

Your jaw drops and the next words are out before you can even think about stopping them. “Shut the fuck up.” And then you immediately wince, because you’ve been on Mat recently about watching his language around Maeve, who’s soaking up words now like an absolute sponge.

But Mat only laughs, reaching to pull the puppy into his arms, and stepping closer to you and Maeve slowly. “Her name’s Blue, but we can change it.”

“Boo!” Maeve repeats, which really ices the cake on that one, and brings a smile to both of your faces. She’s reaching out for the puppy as Mat steps closer, and you prepare yourself for the worst, but Maeve bursts into happy giggles the second her hand touches the puppy.

Blue sniffs her tiny little hand tentatively, and then licks it happy, and Maeve giggles even harder as she does. “I might cry.” You announce. “This is the greatest day. I thought you’d never cave.”

Tito snickers. “He was worried he’d come home one day and you’d brought a stray home.”

“I considered it.”

“Thought this was better.” Mat agrees. “At least I got to screen for a good one.”

“All dogs are good dogs.” You state firmly. “Let’s put her down and let her explore a little.”

“Come on, Menace.” Mat takes Maeve from your arms, who goes happily, reaching for his hair as she does, but you’ve both caught onto the move by now, so he intercepts her hand with his thumb. “Let’s go follow your new best friend.”

-----

11 Months of Maeve: You Like: baby dolls, baby doll stroller, your fancy new cup, Blue You Dislike: puzzles- you’re not really about toys you sit for anymore

“How soon,” Mat starts one night, when you’re getting ready for bed, both child and dog already asleep in crib and crate from an exhausting evening of playtime. “Is too soon, do you think, to bring Maeve out for a skate?”

You’ve got a mouth full of toothpaste, but you think you still manage to convey what you want with a look. “You’re asking me this question?”

“Good point.” You rinse your mouth out and join Mat in bed. “Maybe we’ll start with mini-sticks and a soft ball.”

You burst into laughter. “You think she’s ready for that?”

“Oh she’s got this walking thing down now.” He brushes that off. “My girl’s an expert.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, we knew that was coming.”

Mat grins. “Work on that hand eye coordination now.”

You give him a look, trying to decide how serious he is, and then when deciding that he’s absolutely 100% serious, you press a kiss to his shoulder-the nearest spot of him that you can reach. “Please don’t kill our baby.”

Mat’s already scooting in closer to you, already half asleep because this asshole somehow manages to fall asleep like the second his head hits the pillow basically, and he throws an arm over your waist. “Mmm, kay, promise.”

-----

It was a mistake to sit down, you knew that before you even did it, but you’re exhausted from the day. Between spending your morning getting ready for Maeve’s birthday party, playing hostess throughout the afternoon, and then starting the clean-up process, you honestly think you could fall asleep right here against this wall that you’re leaning against.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you slip it out-it’s another message from Molly, probably just more pictures that she took throughout the afternoon-but it’s the instagram tag from Mat that really catches your attention.

The app opens to a picture of the two of you standing on either side of Maeve and her smash cake, both wearing happy parent smiles, as her hand brings another fist of icing to an already-covered face. There’s a picture with the three of you standing with his parents and sister; another with Maeve, Tito, Molly, and Brian; and the last one, just you and Maeve, sitting on the floor and her trying to play with the party hat Molly had put on your head, right after you’d fixed the bow on her headband.

1 Year of Maeve: Happy Birthday to our favorite girl! It’s been an entire year with you already and your mom and I can’t wait to see what comes in the next one

You can’t help but smile at both the caption and the pictures, unable to settle on one and still scrolling through the post when you feel Mat sit down next to you. “Somebody’s getting sleepy.”

The same dopey, fond smile is definitely still on your face as you turn to look at Mat and Maeve, who’s curled in his arms in a way she only does now when she’s absolutely exhausted. But she’s fighting it for sure, eyes fluttering shut and then popping back open again. “Big day.” You agree with him. “And it was a nice day. But I’m happy it’s just us now.”

“Yeah.” Mat says, and it almost sounds like his thoughts are completely in another place for a second as he shifts around on the floor for a second. “It was a great day.” It was; it truly was, and even though there’s still a mess to be cleaned, you’re perfectly content to just sit here for a while longer with Mat and Maeve. When he settles, you lean your head against his shoulder, reaching your hand out to rest it on Maeve’s tiny little wrist. “Hey.” Mat says gently.

“Hmm?”

“Marry me?”

“What?” You laugh, until he brings a hand out to you and opens his fist to show off a diamond ring, and then suddenly you’re not laughing at all. “Oh my god.”

“I just-I want a million more days like this with you,” Mat smiles. “I want forever like that. Marry me.”

“Yes.” You breathe. “Yes, god yes, of course.”

And immediately, Mat’s kissing you, or well, trying to, because you’re smiling and kind of crying, and he’s still holding Maeve in his arms, so you both pull away pretty quickly. “I love you. God, I know I don’t tell you that enough, but I do. So much. It-”

“I love you too.” You cut him off. “I really can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

Mat beams at you and you reach your left hand out, biting your lip to avoid giggling as he fumbles a little, one-handedly sliding the ring onto it. But he succeeds, and you admire the ring on your finger, as you lean back against Mat’s shoulder.

The silence that follows is comfortable; the only sound the slight wheeze of Maeve’s breathing. “I think she’s finally out.” Mat says quietly, after a moment. “I’ll take her up?”

“Nah.” You clutch at his arm. “Just-let’s just stay here for a while.”

Mat smiles against the side of your head before he kisses it gently. “Okay.” He kisses it again. “But you know you’re stuck with me forever now, right? Not going anywhere.”

You squeeze his arm. “Not stuck.” Mat beams. “Well, I guess I might feel differently in a month or two.”

“Brat.” Mat says fondly.

“Yup.” You grin and then throw his own words right back at him. “But you’re stuck with me forever now.”

“Never stuck.” Mat says, and it sounds like such a promise that you can’t help but lean over and try to kiss him again.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fan fic #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #my hockey fics #surprises series

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takachirou · 4 years

Text

obey me

pairing: sugawara koushi x fem!reader

summary: frustrating your pretty little husband wasn’t something you do often... except during sex

genre: fluff, smut

warning/s: nsfw, brat!reader, soft to hard!dom suga, slapping, choking, oral (giving) and daddy kink

wc: 1.2k+

the softness of his lips traveling from the nape of your neck to your shoulders is the first thing you feel in the morning. he pulled the blankets just enough so he could leave a trail of kisses on you, his nose lightly bumping against your warm skin. he hugs you tight, arms around your waist, snuggling beneath your hair.

“i love you.”

his whisper, along with the arms tightly wrapped around your body, slowly woke you up. you stirred lightly, releasing yourself from his embrace to face him. you leaned close, just a breath away from a kiss and said, “brush your teeth, you stink koushi,” making him throw his head back, letting out a soft yet raspy laugh. you leaned forward into his chest as he held you. you stayed here for a while, laying in silence, the faint sounds of cars and your breaths the only thing audible. “i’m serious kou, i can’t kiss you yet,” you murmured, his heart beating a little bit faster than before.

you feel his tight grip loosen and the bed shifting. you open your eyes to see your husband walking to the bathroom. you moved your body so you were laying on your stomach, admiring him. hair messy from deep sleep, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. after he’s done, he walks up to you by your shared bed. bending down to rest his hand on your cheek and giving you a kiss on your forehead, “get up angel, time to shower.

he heats up the shower and turns on some music as you brush your teeth. the song social sites by cosmo pyke started playing softly as you both underdressed yourself and got in the hot shower. it started out as soft touches, massaging his back and peppering his back with innocent kisses. “your turn,” he whispers, his fingers finding its way to your scalp. his fingers were like magic, you moaned at his gentle fingers, “needy aren’t we, princess?” turning you so you could kiss him.

it was slow and sexual, the type of kiss that ignites a fire in your sweet cunt. his hands massaging your breasts, his thumb grazing against your hardened bud. he slips his tongue in your mouth, the warm muscle exploring your mouth, you tug at his hair growing needy. his thumb drawing circles on your hip, parting from the kiss, “fuck,” he breathed out. the sun finding its way through your bathroom window. you looked up at him, laughing along with him, admiring the sight. cheeks flushed, lips red and parted. and before you know it your hand was on his cheek, and kissing him one last time before enjoying your shower, knowing you’ll continue this later.

the bright skies slowly turned gray, the chirping of birds turned into thunder and it suddenly got colder. both of you resting on the couch, legs entangled with his as he plans his work for the week. you suddenly got needy, you weren’t sure if it was the sudden change of weather or you needed warmth but you were rubbing against koushi. you sat up and started peppering his neck with kisses, inching your to his chest to leave light hickies on him.

usually this would end up in a very long make out session between you since you loved the teasing and the slight tension between you, he knew you loved waiting. but today it got heated quickly, his hands finding its way to your neck, pressing your naked body on him.

you were straddling him as he sat on the couch while you kissed. they were agonizingly slow, your tongue pressing against his, tasting the coffee he was drinking just awhile ago. his hands were on your waist, rubbing circles on it, making your pussy clench. you slowly bit his lip, licking his ear as you palmed his length. “f-fuck,” he panted out.

you asked for consent before kneeling in front of him, taking him in your hands. you spit on his cock before taking it all in, hitting the back of your throat, gagging at the feeling. he guides down his length, fingers in your hair tugging it gently. you moaned at the feeling before gagging again as he thrusted in your mouth. “w-want to fuck y-you,” he stammered out. you loved it when he was needy for you, you knew you could do whatever you want and get away with it.

you take out his cock from your mouth with a pop before getting on the couch. he positioned you so you’re facing away from him, he grabs you by your throat to kiss you. he slides himself in your cunt, you moan into the kiss as he bottoms out. his thrusts start slow and deep, making you feel every inch of him. he rubs your ass before giving it a light smack, making you gasp at the feeling.

“f-fuck, more p-please.”

he grabbed your body so you’re closer, his cock literally so deep in your pussy, you’re seeing stars. hand rubbing your breasts, toying with your nipple. the heat made its way to your core, your walls pulsating against his wet dick. you fell forward, you couldn’t hold yourself anymore. it was already so hard to move around on the couch, you’re grabbing the head rest of the couch. your whole body pressed against the couch, as he drives his length deeper and deeper in your wet pussy.

“a-ah! y-you’re so h-hot angel.” you were truly a sight to see, your own spit dripping down your mouth, mouth watering and cheeks flushed. his slow movements was not enough to send you cumming, you fucked yourself, using his cock, and he loved this. he loved fucking you so slowly that you’re needy enough to use his cock like a fucking sex toy. bouncing on his dick, harder and harder, his cock hitting the right places while his fingers found its way to your clit. his magical hands toying your sensitive bud like it was owned by some random fuck doll. “s-shit, koushi, p-please! a-h!” the string of curses exiting your pretty cock hungry mouth. the overwhelming pleasure his fingers and cock was giving you was too much, his fingers digging into your hips, a pain that you quite enjoyed.

“please what? use your big girl words for me. i know you can do it,” he said. his fingers building momentum while his other hand steadies himself so the both of you don’t fall. he tugs at your hair so you could face him, “come on baby, tell me what you want,” his voice raspy.

“k-koushi! fuck! i n-need to c-cum!” you whined out in frustration, trying your best to meet his thrusts. “

“stop being a little brat and let me fuck you,” he spits, growing frustrated by the way he couldn’t fuck you properly this time, his soft exterior turning darker. you whined in response before he drove his cock in you, the thrust sharp and deep, moving you and the couch forward.

he grabbed you by your throat, forcing you to kiss him in the very weird angle. it was hot and heavy, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking his length back into your dripping cunt. you didn’t have time to gasp for air because he had gathered the string of spit and your cum, shoving his fingers in your throat.

“i said stop being a little brat for daddy, princess.”

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#haikyu!!#haikyu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara smut #hq!! smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyu!! smut #sugawara koushi smut #mine.txt

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delimeful · 4 years

Text

you will see a better day

donation drive commission for @starrykid with the prompt: Remus dealing with intrusive thoughts and the others helping him through it.

warnings: canon setting, intrusive thoughts (a fair amount), gore mentions, implications of thoughts of self harm, Remus Going Thru It

Before, whenever he had a Bad Day, it was just more fuel on the trash fire that was his brain.

It was routine: Remus would wake up with a litany of grotesque images on the back of his eyelids, present every time he blinked or squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. These thoughts weren’t the fun kind of gross, the type that was fascinating or funny. They weren’t fun because he didn’t choose them, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of them if he didn’t like them.

Guess that was how everyone else felt about you. Remus mashed a pillow over his own face as though it would muffle his own mind. What a stupid thought. He was a luxury few could afford, thank-you-very-much!

Back then, as soon as possible, he would find someone else in the Mindscape to bother, because if he had to deal with the awful thoughts carving and chipping away at the inside of his skull, it was only fair to share.

That was before, when things had been black and white and he could be a monster all he pleased because it wasn’t like anyone else thought differently. It wasn’t like Thomas thought differently.

Until he did.

And now they were all in one muddled up Mindscape and the others were trying, making an effort to clot their own bad habits and setting a place for him at the table. It was slow-going, like shoving a square peg into a circular hole, but it was also the most he’d ever had. Until something splintered, he was going to soak in every minute of it.

Or at least, that was his plan, up until he hit another Bad Day like a semi truck hit thrice-dead roadkill.

Same thoughts, same pounding (heh) headache. The difference was, now he couldn’t go word-vomit all over the nearest Side until he felt a little less like he was drowning. He was working to keep the delicate peace in his own way, and that meant not bothering the others with his… himself-ness on days like these.

He couldn’t stay in his room all day, though. For one it was boring, and for two, ever since they’d all agreed to try and cohabitate, Patton and Janus in particular were insistent on checking in if anyone acted strange. Cooping up in his room and not being his usual fantastically sickening and outrageous self would definitely pop up on their radar. If that happened, there was no way he could fool Janus outright. He preferred his own brand of frank honesty anyways, so clearly the only solution was to behave normally enough that nobody looked twice.

His version of normal, anyhow.

He groaned loudly and then dragged in a breath, manifesting a pair of slippers that looked uncannily like dead fish onto his feet. He would just have to put his excellent acting skills to use.

—-

Remus’s willpower was put to the test as soon as he reached the kitchen. A new record of his ability to destroy plans, this must be why Janus never told him anything.

Patton was spinning himself in circles on one of the round stools by the bar counter, humming a cartoon theme brightly to himself. At the stovetop, Virgil was sedately flipping pancakes, an easy set to his shoulders that meant he had probably recently taken a long-overdue nap in Logan’s room.

Normally, Remus would already be halfway into teasing the hell out of him, but now his brain felt scrambled with panic. Virgil was particularly susceptible to getting dragged into the cycle of intrusive thoughts on days like these, which meant the anxious Side was the last one he wanted to run into at the moment.

Two birds with one brick, his stupid hell brain suggested slyly. Send Virgil into a spiral and then it’ll be him who gets nagged, his fault for ruining the friendly atmosphere.

Stop it. Remus’s face twitched into a self-directed snarl for a moment, and he forced the thought away as Patton finally slowed his rotation to smile dizzily at him.

“Remus! Good morning!”

Virgil glanced over his shoulder, sending Remus’s heart rate briefly into the triple digits. Be normal be normal be normal. “Hey, Re. Morning.”

He didn’t even notice. So much for being your friend. If you’re subtle enough, you could sidle up behind him and smash his face into the hot burner—

“WHAT’S UP, FUCKERS!” Remus shouted, teeth spread in a too-wide grin. He bounced into the kitchen, depositing an assorted handful of teeth (his preferred currency) into the swear jar before Patton could say anything, and planted himself on the middle bar stool.

Patton scooted one stool closer to be next to him, because of course he did. Remus resisted the urge to start prying out handfuls of hair, his own or— no. Toned down, he was keeping it toned down. Buttcheek on a stick, this was difficult.

“Want to spin with me?” Patton asked, shifting antsily from side to side with barely contained energy.

“Whoever pukes first wins?” Remus replied automatically, and felt a bright burst of giddy joy when Patton giggle-snorted instead of recoiling.

“I think upchuck is actually supposed to mean you lose your lunch and the spinning contest, kiddo.”

Of course it did. You were designed to be the loser, even if you try to change the rules.

Remus knew that this time Patton had spotted the way his lips twitched down into a grimace, but before the fatherly side could say anything, there was the clink of ceramic plates on the counter in front of them.

“No spinning and/or vomiting if you want to eat my pancakes,” Virgil demanded, wielding a spatula threateningly at them as he clicked the stovetop off. “We’ll never hear the end of it from Princey if he has to reconjure all the furniture.”

Irrational, heated anger burned through him. Like Virgil could do anything to stop you. Social interaction was enough to give the guy a panic attack, he couldn’t tell Remus to do or not do anything—

“You good, Re?” Virgil asked, and he jerked, avoiding the other Side’s gaze as though eye contact would expose his thoughts. After a beat too long, his mind finally caught up with the plate in front of him.

His pancake was covered in a truly disgusting amount of cheese and ketchup, the way he always requested it back when they’d all been Dark Sides. Despite the fact that he always made a face back then, Virgil had made a point to remember, had done it without asking.

Like ravenous wolves, his thoughts instantly turned against him.

Pathetic. How could you think things like that about people who trust you? You shouldn’t even be here, pretending to be a person. You deserve everything coming to you.

His hand made it halfway to the fork sitting innocently next to his plate before he remembered himself. Virgil was still looking at him, clearly having caught the motion, and Remus lowered his hand, white-knuckled.

“Me, good? That’s a funny one, V-mo!” he tried to joke, but the odd edge to his voice made it fall flat. Virgil was outright frowning now, and out of the corner of his vision Patton’s eyebrows were drawing together.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil asked, his frame tight with tension and his gaze drilling into Remus. “Are you hurt?”

“I could be!” Remus blurted, trying to keep his tone saucy but ending up with something closer to desperate. “You ever think maybe bashing my skull in would be better than having to deal with its contents?”

The two of them winced, and he knew he’d given himself away completely. Shit.

Virgil reached out, and then stopped himself before he could make contact. Can you blame him? Jumping into an electrified tank of leeches would be more comfortable than willingly exposing himself to you.

Something of his internal diatribe must have shown on Remus’s face, because Virgil’s hesitant expression flickered into regret.

“Shit,” he swore, and this time Patton didn’t chide him. “I can’t-- I don’t want to send you into a spiral, Re. If I touch you, we’re just going to be stuck in a feedback loop of bad thoughts.”

“Like how you’re perpetually stuck in 2009?” Remus offered, instead of listing all the ways he could feasibly remove Virgil’s eyes from their sockets. It would almost be fun, if it wasn’t his friend’s eyes he was contemplating prying out with a spoon handle.

Virgil’s lips pulled up slightly. “Yeah, just like that. I’m gonna go get the others. They’ll be able to help you for real.”

He sunk out, and Remus’s head started to ache more severely as terrible and often gory predictions for the future began to crowd his mind. He shoved his hands into the roots of his hair and tugged ferociously.

“Hey, buddy, you shouldn’t pull on your hair like that,” a concerned voice chimed in. Remus had almost forgotten Patton was still there, sitting only a seat away.

He pulled harder on his hair, both out of spite and to distract himself from the urge to summon a weapon and see if Patton would still look at you with so much pity if you shanked his ass and tied his intestines into little bows.

“Hey, what do you call a seasick croc?” Patton asked, abruptly enough that Remus managed to shake his train of thought. He glanced up to look at the Heart, who offered him a tremulous mischievous smile. “A crocobile.”

Remus snorted, and Patton’s smile seemed to firm up.

“How about, why do ducks have tail feathers?” the moral Side asked in that same leading tone.

Remus thought for a minute. “‘Cause otherwise they’d lose their balance in flight and go splat against the nearest window?”

“I mean, maybe, but also!” Patton held up a finger for emphasis. “They have tail feathers to cover their… butt-quacks.”

There was a beat of anticipation where they both stared at each other, and then Remus threw his head back and outright cackled. Patton fist pumped in delight.

“I thought you might like that one, kiddo,” he said, beaming. Before Remus could reply, possibly with an atrocious pun of his own, Roman strode into the room.

There was a brief, awkward pause as the two of them made eye contact. Patton looked rapidly between them with concern, and Remus couldn’t blame him. Even now, their one-on-one interactions tended to end with vicious spats. They were too good, too practiced at pressing each other's buttons to settle into the newfound peace easily.

“... Bad one?” he finally asked, as though he could spot the wrong-evil-awful all over Remus from a mile away. Remus felt his expression drop into an irritable glower worthy of Anxiety, but before he could retort, Roman was seating himself primly on the communal couch.

He ran his hand through the hair at the nape of his neck in a nervous habit Remus constantly teased him about, and then straightened his shoulders and patted the cushion next to him. “I’ll… like when we were kids. If you want.”

Despite Patton’s confused head tilt, Remus got it immediately, and ignored the screaming violence in his head in favor of bodily throwing himself over the couch, jostling the hell out of his brother and eliciting a Grade-A Bitchface from him in the process. Remus grinned maliciously in return.

“Do the one that looks like a snake,” he demanded, running a hand through his hair and lengthening it. Of course, in addition, thick clumps of hair ended up falling out entirely, leaving weird-feeling bald patches that might have been interesting if he’d actually intended to create them.

“On purpose or don’t want it?” Roman asked, echoing a familiar question from their childhood. It had been a royal decree, before they grew so divided, that one had to ask before ‘fixing’ anything the other did, just in case it was on purpose.

“How are you supposed to braid what isn’t there?” Remus grumbled, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he unwillingly imagined restapling his hair to his skull. “Don’t want it.”

Roman dragged his fingers through Remus’s hair, lengthening it until it was long enough to do all sorts of stupid-complicated braids. He also made the new hair unforgivably glossy and apple-scented, but Remus could get him back for that later, when he was sure it wouldn’t be (nails through nasal cavities, a cloud of suffocating darkness, decaying hands pulling you down into freshly turned soil and burying you alive) disproportionate retribution.

Two braids later, Logan appeared, rising up in the mindscape with his tie perfectly aligned but lab goggle imprints around his eyes. He only took a moment to absorb the scene, as though it was normal that everyone was crowding around Remus attentively. “Virgil informed me that you could use some assistance?”

Remus snorted. “Maybe you can perform some impromptu brain surgery to stop me thinking? Hey, if you don’t use anesthetic, I promise not to squirm too much, doc.”

“I don’t believe that man’s ever been to medical school,” Roman quoted absently, still caught up in combining three braids together into one.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Regardless of my unfortunately lacking PhD status, I believe brain surgery to ‘stop one thinking’ is also colloquially referred to as an induced coma.”

“Perfect!” Remus cheered, and then yelped when Roman tugged on his hair harshly in retribution. Patton was making that half-pitiful, half-furious face that he always made whenever the emo talked bad about himself, strangely enough.

“There are plenty of adjectives I could use to describe such a solution, but none of them would be ‘perfect’, Remus,” Logan continued. “A more effective and patient-friendly answer would be addressing your irritating or harmful thoughts through the use of various mental health tactics.”

Easy for him to say. “That might work for Tommy-boy, but I am the harmful or irritating thoughts, remember?”

“Falsehood.” Logan declared, proving that no matter what aspect of Thomas they were, the Sides were all dramatic theater kid bastards at heart. “It has become increasingly clear that while we all formed to handle certain tasks or aspects, we are all increasingly complex at heart. None of us can be diminished to simply one trait. In the same way that Virgil is much more than the experience of anxiety, there is no logical reason to reduce yourself to the thoughts that you struggle with.”

Remus shook his head, though he wasn’t sure what part of the assertion he was resisting. Logan folded himself into a sitting position and reached over for Remus’s hand, his touch grounding.

“You’ve gotten through days like this before. You’ll continue to do so after,” Logan told him.

“I got through Bad Days by making everyone’s day bad,” Remus retorted. “I’m not you, but I’m not stupid. Nobody wants me making it into a communal event.”

“That’s what family’s for though,” Patton said, shifting closer from his own spot on the rug. “Listening. Helping. Having each other’s backs when things get tough!”

Logan’s grip didn’t falter. Roman’s presence was solid at his back. Remus was beginning to wonder if he’d snorted something hallucinogenic recently.

“The sentiment is admirable, if a bit hypocritical,” a familiar voice chimed in, and Remus looked up to see Janus leaning elegantly against the kitchen archway. Virgil elbowed his way past, ruining the dramatic pose and flopping down on the couch next to Remus. He bumped his shoe against Remus’s leg in quiet camaraderie.

“Hypocritical?” Logan echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Unless you’d like to tell me that everyone here has no problems whatsoever asking for help or expressing vulnerability on their bad days,” Janus proposed, smugly.

Logan inclined his head slightly. “Point.”

“Regardless, that doesn’t make Logic or Morality incorrect.” Janus looked at Remus intently. “None of us are allowed to simply suffer in silence, anymore.”

“I didn’t exactly suffer in silence before,” he pointed out, sounding uncannily sensible. Probably from the nerd’s proximity.

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem now, hmm?” Janus replied.

Logan sighed at them all, collectively, in general. “Look at it from this angle, Remus. Your previous coping mechanism was generally detrimental due to your lack of options and isolation. Now, you have neither of those holding you back. With knowledge and assistance, you can only improve from here on out.”

Now, that was doubtful. “And what if I don’t, huh? What if I just get worse?”

“Then we’ll still be here.” Logan squeezed his hand, and Janus confirmed his words with a nod, and even though his mind was cluttered and overwhelming, they were all still there at his side without complaint.

Maybe it wasn’t too much to ask, after all.

“Well, what are we trying first?”

#sanders sides #ts remus #ts janus #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #donation drive #commissioned works #writing #my writing #starrykid #woohoo!#hurt/comfort #found family

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elylandon · 3 years

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Part 1 - Chapter 16.1: Camping and Scars

Summary: You’re running for your life when you cross paths with an ex-bounty hunter and his small, green companion. You never thought you’d find someone throughout the whole galaxy who was as lost as you.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 6,085

Rating/Warnings: M for mature content. Swearing, smut, unbelievable softness.

Chapter 16 | Chapter 16.2

Note: (Slight AU) And we’re back!! I hope you all enjoyed the start of the new season! I can’t wait to start Part 2 of this story, but I figured while I wait a few weeks to outline my plans with the events of season 2, I’ll drop a couple epilogue chapters to get us caught up with what Din and Reader have been up to! I really hope you guys enjoy this addition, and thanks for still supporting this story! 💜🤍

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Three months. It had been a little over three months since Nevarro. And in that time, Din quickly realized that he had no idea how to take a proper vacation. When he’d suggested taking a break, you said that you would follow him. But in the end, he wound up following you.

Every place the three of you visited in that time had been a suggestion on your part. Suggestions of things you’d wanted to do on Earth growing up, while Din interpreted those things and found what he knew to be similar. Grand waterfalls, deep canyons, towering cities, sporting events, pod races, museums, libraries, menageries- the works. It was as if you saw the many wonders of the galaxy on a platter and you wanted to sample all of them.

But as the two of you agreed, this break would have to come to an end soon. Your birthday happened to be two weeks away, so you had a couple more ideas as a sort of celebration before getting back to reality, and finally setting out on Din’s quest with the child, and your quest to find Zekir.

Your first idea was recreational camping.

“Camping for… fun?” Din had asked, bemused. The way he was raised with the Mandalorians, camping was for survival, and nothing more. He tried to imagine the drills he’d been put through to survive several days on his own, only using the resources around him, as fun.

“Yes! It was something my parents liked to do every summer. We’d go to the same campsite every time, a forest on a mountain, and set up our camp next to a river. My dad would fish while my mom and I would hunt for crawdads and trap chipmunks. We’d cook our meals over a campfire and find constellations at night. It was probably one of my favorite things we did as a family.”

Din didn’t think he could say no to you after hearing that, even if he wanted to. There was a light in your eyes as you told him about it. Excitement, and longing for something you’d cherished in your past. He could understand that, the desire to relive something from a time when you were so happy, so carefree about the dangers of the galaxy.

So he agreed, and the two of you made plans. First, preparation.

Din escorted you to his usual trading spot and set you loose. It was like that first time the two of you had been there, all those months ago, where you followed him to each stall as he knew exactly where to go and who to talk to in order to pawn off all the things you’d looted from Thasar’s ships. This time, though, it was him following after you, watching you haggle for things he’d never seen a necessity for, but were apparently crucial to recreational camping.

You were a fast learner. He’d been teaching you other popular languages spoken throughout the galaxy, and you were using a lot of those new skills now, speaking as if you had been fluent in these languages your whole life. With each passing day, it made more and more sense how you’d learned so quickly under Zekir’s teachings and Thasar’s tutors. Despite that, though, it also became painfully apparent the absolute waste of your potential over the last decade while you were isolated to Thasar’s whims. Din could tell you regretted that lost time, that lost education. But you didn’t waste it now.

You were almost as much of an expert on the Razor Crest as he was. You were well versed in his armor too, in case you ever found yourself in a situation where he was incapacitated and you could benefit from having access to something like the Whistling Birds. You’d improved on your marksmanship and your close combat fighting, with and without weaponry. You’d also become partial to using an ornate dagger you’d spotted on your travels, sheathing in your boot, just in case you lost the use of your blaster holstered against your thigh.

All of this was to say that, taking a break for Din meant helping you grow, watching you take advantage of your freedom, and enjoying your whims, because he didn’t really have any. Of course, you also encouraged him to enjoy things that he might have missed out on at certain points in his life, just as you were doing. However, he wasn’t really sure what he’d missed, until he was doing it with you.

Once you were done shopping, you finished prepping by packing the newly acquired camping equipment into bins down in the hull. While you did that, Din took on the task of finding a place to camp. He remembered how you had explained your camping trips from your childhood. A river in a forest on a mountain. A place that made you think of home, of Earth.

He knew the perfect place.

Before long, Din was dropping into the atmosphere of a lush, green planet. Feeling the descent, you came up to join him in the cockpit and looked around, eyes glowing, mesmerized.

“It looks… just like I remember it. I mean, I know it’s not Earth, but it looks the same.”

“I had a job here once. This planet has a large caving system. I had to walk in circles down there for three days before I finally found the guy. Once I got topside again, I thought I wouldn’t mind coming back to a place like this. If I had to walk away from the Creed, or got too old and slow for the job, this was the kind of place I’d want to retire to.”

“You’re a cabin in the woods kind of guy, huh?” you teased. He only shrugged.

Din quickly found a small clearing to land in, and you eagerly waited at the back ramp as it slowly lowered. As soon as it touched the ground, you took off into the trees, the child happily bouncing against your hip in his satchel. You followed the sound of streaming water. After a hundred or so yards, you came up to a slow moving river. Just before the bank was a small circle of clear forest floor, big enough for both a campfire and a tent. And off to the right of that was a large outcropping of rock, forming a short cliff and overhang, below it a small pool branching off of the river.

You turned as Din came up behind you, having found your trail and followed you through the trees. You beamed up at him.

“This is the perfect spot.”

You proceed to set up camp. Din moved the camping bins from the Crest to the campsite while you and the child started pitching the tent. Once that was done, you went around gathering rocks, creating a circle away from the tent to form a firepit. Then you collected firewood. Din eventually joined you, unwittingly volunteering to be the firewood carrier as you and the child slowly added to the load in his arms.

You let the child play in the empty tent while you unloaded the equipment from the bins. One was stuffed with blankets and pillows, and you used them to create a huge nest in the tent. You followed that by tossing your pack to one side and Din’s to the other, then tucked a lantern into one of the corners closer to the opening, and finished prepping the tent for basic hibernation.

Once the camp was put together, the three of you spent the rest of the day doing the activities you remembered doing with your parents. Din fished, but with a handmade spear instead of a fishing pole like you remembered your dad using. He stationed himself in the river, only out far enough for the water to run around his calves. He’d rolled his pants up, and stashed his armor away in the tent. The only thing remaining of the “Mandalorian” was his helmet. But even while he was now more flesh than beskar, he still had a way of keeping himself absolutely still as he waited for his quarry to be daring enough to swim within his reach.

As he did that, you and the child played in the pool. Or rather, you collected some more rocks and formed a small circle in the most shallow part of the pool, just a few feet off the bank, and he splashed around in that while you swam. At one point, he’d used his powers to push the water, splashing at you. You gasped in mock betrayal and swore vengeance. Several minutes later, Din came over, a basket of fish in hand, only to find you two soaking wet and a mess of giggles.

As it started to cool down in the late afternoon, you and child migrated away from the river and into the trees. You set up small traps for rodents on the forest floor, laying out a few tiny boxes, and propping one of their sides up with sticks. You both hunkered down behind some brush and waited, watching for little critters to come and snatch the bait you’d left under each box. After cleaning the fish for dinner, Din joined you, shaking his head as you and the child took turns using your power to knock out the sticks from under the boxes, so that they would fall over your unsuspecting prey. Of course, you’d let them go as soon as you caught them, and the poor rodents would dash away as soon as they were free. But they kept returning, as if the circumstances of their potential capture had changed. Needless to say, it created a couple hours of harmless entertainment.

As night fell, the three of you roasted Din’s catch over a roaring fire and feasted. Afterwards, bellies full, you all laid out beside the fire, relaxed and content after the busy day. Din pointed out several constellations as the stars started popping up in the night sky, remembering what you had told him about your parents doing the same. And it wasn’t long after that the child fell asleep against your chest to the sound of Din’s low, modulated voice.

As much as you loved this kid, there were times when you were eager for him to fall asleep, and hopefully a deep sleep at that. Between the child, the armor, and the exact parameters required for such an occasion, intimate moments with Din were hard to come by. You loved spending time where the three of you were together, but you also relished the moments you could spend alone with Din.

Said man went to grab some more firewood while you made your way up the short hill to the Razor Crest. Over the last few months, you’d managed to jury-rig a connection between the Crest’s intercom system and a long range coms device. Voila! Instant baby monitor. You snatched it up from it’s charging port on the supply shelf and tucked the child in on Din’s cot. He’d be a lot warmer on the ship, and if he woke in the night, you’d hear him.

When you made it back to the fire you found Din kneeling in front of it, stoking the wood to keep it burning. You dropped down beside him, savoring the toasty warmth of the flames with a sigh. You criss-crossed your legs, your knee brushing against Din’s calf, and glanced around the camp.

At first, your eyes went to the tent, and you contemplated how many more seconds you would last before you started dragging Din into it behind you. A wry smile played at your lips, but then your brain threw up another idea.

Slowly, your gaze swung towards the pool you and the child were playing in earlier that day.

“Now what are you scheming,” Din asked, noticing the look on your face.

You tossed him a mischievous smile.

“I think I want to go skinny-dipping.”

Din was still and silent for a full thirty seconds as he assessed you. Then he shifted in an almost resigned fashion.

“What is that?” he asked, tone suggesting that he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know.

Your grin became devilish and you stood. As you turned away from him, you tugged the hem of your shirt-- his shirt, the one he had given you the first day you’d met him-- out of your trousers, then over your head. You were already a few steps away, tossing your shirt aside when Din processed your actions enough to jump up and follow after you.

“Y/N,” he called, a question in his voice, confused. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling, then shed the band covering your chest.

The closer you got to the pool, the more clothing you lost, leaving a trail for Din to follow. He was still puzzled by your actions, the sound of your name becoming more and more clipped as that legendary patience of his frayed. You glanced back at him once, and saw that he was picking up after you, your clothes and boots a bundle in his arms. Grinning so much that your cheeks hurt, you finally reached the bank of the river and the edge of the rocky cliff face that formed an overlook above the pool.

While you were swimming with the child earlier, you’d checked the depth of the water, wondering if it would be safe for cliff jumping. The cliff itself wasn’t too high. In fact, you could compare it to jumping off the high dive at a public pool back home. And the pool was deep. Not deep enough for diving, but jumping in would be fine.

You started to climb, and that sharpened Din’s tone.

“Y/N, what the hell are you-”

You ignored him, scrambling up to the top of the cliff rather quickly. Yes, it was exactly like the high dive. Looking up at it from down below, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. But being up there, knowing what you were about to do…

Don’t think, just do it.

You stripped off the last piece of your clothing, tossing your panties down for Din to add to the pile of your clothing. You knew his gaze was incredulous and reproachful as you met it, but you winked at him anyway, then shot forward, and jumped.

As much as this reckless decision was to mess with Din-- give him a little strip tease and then a heart attack as you jumped off a cliff-- it was about you too. Earlier that day, you’d looked at the rocks and thought that it would be crazy, and adventurous, and fun to jump from them, naked, into a wild pool at night. You wanted to do it. You could do it.

So you did.

That quick fall, the feeling of your heart dropping into your stomach, a gleeful shout bubbling up from your throat- this was freedom. No shitty foster family. No Thasar. No Zekir. Just you, and the freedom to do whatever the hell you wanted, even something as crazy as this.

You hit the water, and that feeling propelled you forward, swimming out a few more feet just to feel nothing but calm, silent water around you. No pressure. No anxiety. Just serenity, and lightheartedness.

When you broke the surface, you were laughing. Laughing so hard, so unreserved that you almost took in a mouthful of water. Through your peels of laughter you shouted, “Fuck! It’s freezing!” as the cold finally started to penetrate your bliss.

You pushed your hair from your face, treading the water, and turned back to the shore. Din was standing there, arms full of your clothes, body language suggesting he was so done with your antics. Not in a serious way, but in a I-can’t-believe-you-just-did-that-and-yet-I’m-not-even-surprised kind of way.

“You’re a madwoman,” he muttered, then louder he said, “Get out of there before you freeze to death.”

“No way,” you called over, shaking your head. “Now it’s your turn.”

Again, Din was comically still for half a minute.

“No.”

You snorted a laugh at his very Din-like answer. So deadpan. So serious.

“Well then I’m just gonna hang out here.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not leaving until you join me.”

“You’re going to freeze.”

“I guess you’ll just have to live with the consequences of your actions.”

“My actions-” Din cut himself off, realizing that you were poking at him and he was biting. He turned away, like he was going to start walking back to camp.

“I’m s-starting to turn as b-blue as a Mythrol out here,” you stammered as your teeth started chattering. He just shook his head, so you sighed and tried a more serious tone.

“Din, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. But trust me, all you have to do is let go. Let it all go and just… be free. Just for this moment.”

Another pause, and then Din sighed. Not his heavy, impatient sigh. Just a slightly resigned one. Then, he dropped your clothes on the bank, and reached down to tug off his boots. You continued to tread in the water, elated at the thought that he was about to jump into the pool with you, but also pleased to take advantage of your own little strip show.

Din pulled his thick shirt over his helmeted head. While it was still dark as hell out here, the moon gave you just enough light to see more of Din than you ever had before. You never would have imagined how beautiful his skin was. For a warrior, you pictured… well you weren't at all sure what you pictured. All you knew was the feel of him. Seeing him now, it was no wonder why he always felt so warm, despite appearing cold in all that armor.

His skin was a tawny color, his chest smooth, inviting. The armor made him appear bigger, but there was nothing lacking in his toned arms, broad shoulders, and thick neck. You were too far away, and it was too dark to see them, but you knew there were scars peppering his skin too, like yours. You’d felt a few of them before, while exploring his skin. But considering how you felt about your own scars, you never asked him about his.

As Din reached for the waistband of his pants, he glanced up and noticed you watching. He cocked his head to the side, disapproving.

“You’ll still have to turn around, Y/N.”

“Oh, I know. But you’ve only ever expressed that your Creed forbids you from showing your face. You’ve never said anything about the rest of you. I think I’d like to enjoy the show as long as I can.”

As if just to spite you, Din reached for his helmet first, not his pants.

You scoffed, turning around. “Spoil sport.”

You heard the rustling of him removing the rest of his clothes, and setting them in a pile on the ground, most likely next to your own. You stared up at the sky, listening to Din’s slight, unmodulated grunting as he pulled himself up onto the rock. After a few more seconds, you wondered if he’d need some more coaxing, but as you opened your mouth, a raucous splashing erupted behind you. The waves he created rippled around you, and you sighed in slight disappointment. You didn’t often find yourself wishing you could see more of Din than usual. But in that moment, you kind of did. You would have liked to watch him make the jump.

Alas, you kept your back to him as he surfaced, laughing some more as he released his own string of curses about the chill of the water.

“Amazing right?” you called back to him. He muttered under his breath as he moved closer to you, stubbornly avoiding agreeing with you about how incredible it felt to jump off the cliff.

You glanced over towards the adjacent river. “Maybe now we should try floating the river. It doesn’t look too fast.”

“No. No- Y/N!” Din caught up your bicep as you teasingly floated in that direction, pulling you back to the shore. You laughed again, just as carefree as before.

“Kidding! I was totally kidding.”

“Alright. You’ve had your fun. You even got me in the water. Time to get back to land and warm up.”

“I know a few ways you can warm me up without getting out of the water.”

Ew, did I really just say that? You’d always hated it when men said slimy things like that to you in the past.

“I know a few things you can do with that mouth.”

You shuddered, and opened your mouth to backpedal that statement. But what came out insead was a small yelp as Din yanked you back, spinning you as he did so. You squeezed your eyes shut, as he must have known you would have to keep from seeing him, and then-

And then his lips were on yours. Cold, but soft, unwavering. You sighed, immediately wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer, seeking his warmth.

It was totally a ploy. You could tell that as he tried to discreetly move you back towards the bank, kissing you as a distraction. But you were both very naked, and you had a few distractions of your own.

Din liked to be touched. Correction. Din liked to be touched by you. You slid one hand up along the back of his neck, fingers threading through his curls. Your other hand traced over his shoulder and down his arm. Those arms were wrapped around you, his hands splayed against your lower back, never going any higher than that. As you moved against him, your breasts brushing against his chest, his fingers flexed, and he drew your hips closer, almost involuntarily, like he momentarily lost focus.

He hummed softly against your lips.

I know what you’re doing, he seemed to say.

Your retort was the tightening of your fingers in his hair. Is it working?

The brush of sand and smooth rocks against your toes said not quite. He was determined to get you out of the water, and had managed to push you back enough to be swallowed up by the cliff's shadow, solid ground teasing you, just an inch or so out of reach.

Alright, time for some more drastic measures.

Your next kiss came a little harder, tongue flicking out to tease his, to taste him. Your fingers against his arm crept down along his side, then ghosted over his stomach, lower, and lower, until-

Din’s teeth caught your bottom lip, nipping you sharply as he flinched back, hissing. You stroked the length of him once again and he seemed to hold his breath in response, anticipating, already growing hard despite the frigid temperature. When you wrapped your fingers around him completely, he breathed out a soft curse, the word not one of the basic language.

Mando’a, you’d come to find out over the last few months. When he swore or muttered under his breath in a different language, he was speaking Mando’a. He’d taught you a few words, but he’d also been teaching you many other languages, so sometimes you had to pick through the different files in your brain to decipher what he was saying.

Back to the matter at hand-- so to speak-- you brushed your lips against his strained neck as he tried and failed to regain his focus, and slowly, oh-so-painfully slow, you slid your grip over him. Long, steady strokes that made his fingers dig deeper into the skin at your waist, restraining with all his might from bucking his hips against your hand.

The thing about Din was that he was such a deliberate, controlled man. Every move he made was calculated, every reaction thought out. He didn’t rush things, or at least didn’t like to. When he lost control of a situation, he’d try to think five steps ahead, and if he couldn’t, he would at least execute his next step as efficiently as possible and move from there. It was how he overcame fighters or adversaries that were better than him, and how he kept a level head in tense situations.

So attempting to undo this man was a battle. One you’d been winning more and more over the last few months. And when you did win, when Din finally snapped and let go of all that control-- like jumping off a cliff with you-- that victory was so delicious, so intoxicating-

Just thinking about it sent a burning jolt of desire through you, and you squeezed him, just a little bit tighter, the rhythm of your strokes wavering, just slightly, and that did it. That unraveled him.

He growled, and his fingers dug so hard into your hips that you gasped. His superior height must have given him the extra length needed for steady footing on the sandy floor, for he straightened, hoisting you up without more than a slight grunt of effort. You wrapped your legs around him in response. No teetering or sinking, except he did move forward. You hadn’t realized how close you’d been to the cliff face until your back was brushing against it, rough, but not enough to cause any real pain. Din supported you with a hand gripping the back of your thigh, and the other positioned on the rock behind you.

He kissed you again, hard, lips bruising. You returned it in kind, thighs squeezing his sides, hands on either side of his face, sighing, and gasping- and then moaning as he pushed into you. You were taken aback by how rough it was, the water tricking you into thinking it would have been smoother, easier. But it was the opposite, and you threw your head back, crying out as he thrust into you again.

Oh gods!

Din groaned, dropping his forehead against your collar bone as he moved against you. Water sloshed with each thrust, but it was no longer cold. Nothing was cold. This- this was wildfire, and hard, and blinding. Din wasn’t even sure he remembered where he was, just that he was with you, and that every inch of his skin that was touching yours was coursing with electricity, his senses in overdrive.

You brushed your fingers against his cheek, and he lifted his face to meet your lips once again. In that kiss he felt the desire to be closer, push deeper. He slid his hand over your thigh, tracing the skin down to your knee, then hooked his arm under your leg, giving him a slightly different angle, allowing him to drive further into you. You whimpered into his mouth, your fingers digging into his shoulders, clinging to him as if he was your lifeline. It wasn’t long before you were trembling beneath him, your walls constricting around him so tightly that he saw stars. Your climax came on a broken gasp, and Din helped you ride that as long as possible. And then all it took for him was your hand, laid tenderly against his cheek, your forehead against his, your noses brushing as you breathed his name, the sound so quiet, it was almost carried away by the river.

The two of you hung there, as if suspended in a brief pause of time as the euphoria faded into something softer. Din kissed you again, his movements slow and tender. You tried to smoothly extricate yourself from him, and when he didn’t have to support you anymore, his hands moved up to cup either side of your face, savoring the sweetly lethargic kiss.

Seemingly every time, why was it the sound of his name one your lips that did it, that pushed him over the edge? You somehow always managed to put so much in just that one syllable, it was maddening. You said his name like it meant something, like you cherished it, like a prayer, and that would forever be his undoing.

And then the cold started to seep in.

“Will you get out of the water now?” Din asked.

You scoffed.

“You did not just do that to get me out of the water.”

When he merely shrugged, you swatted his arm and turned towards the bank, eyes opening now to navigate your way.

“If that was the play, all you had to say was that we’d do it in the tent.”

“Who’s saying that we won’t still?”

You quickly scrambled out of the pool and Din laughed. You closed your eyes and turned, waiting for him and smiling at the sound.

“Here,” Din said as he caught up to you. Your clothes found their way into your arms, and you were sure Din was grabbing his own as he said, “Lead, so you can see where you’re going. I’ll follow.”

You did as you were told. You turning your back to him, as you had done earlier while stripping and making your way to the pool, was a testament to how far the two of you had come together. Six months ago, you would have argued, falling back to be the follower. For one thing, you hadn’t trusted him yet, and for another, you used to go out of your way to hide your scars from him.

However, as the two of you grew closer, you slowly got used to it; letting him see that part of you, just as he was getting used to being around you without his armor. Din saw those scars now, your back a maze of them. They criss-crossed over each other in a mess of ruined flesh. Lashings. He knew they’d come from lashings. He’d almost witnessed new ones about to be made the day you’d finally killed your tormentor. Having initially seen your scars that day as Meck and Gurn ripped your shirt open, watching Rhet prepare to add to them, hearing the words Thasar used to crush you, and seeing the absolute emptiness in your eyes, he’d been only a breath away from vaporizing every last one of them.

Din tucked his clothes under one arm, then caught you around the middle with the other. He bent down, and kissed one of the bigger scars, starting just at the base of your neck. You jumped, gasping in surprise, more from the gesture than the touch of his lips on your back. But you didn’t tense. Another landmark, to show just how far you’d come.

“Sorry,” Din murmured, stepping back. “Couldn’t resist.”

You hovered there for a moment, dazed, unable to put to words what that had just felt like. When Din gave your hip a gentle push, you scampered forward, back towards the camp.

Still slightly disoriented, you muttered the only thing that your brain could register, and that was, “Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold.” You quickly stepped up to the fire that was barely smoldering now and said, “Fire?”

“Tent.”

“R-right. Tent.”

You unzipped the flap and clambered inside the nearly pitch black tent. Din followed as you scuttled over to your pack, dropping your clothes and digging through it to find a towel. Din did the same on his side, turning on the lamp as he did so.

“Careful,” he said, referring to the light in case you happened to turn in his direction. You hummed an affirmation and quickly dried yourself, shivering as the cold sank into your skin. After a moment, another towel landed on your head, covering your eyes.

“Come here,” Din sighed, though his tone hinted at a smile on his lips. You turned towards him, repressing shudders as he worked the towel through your hair. You couldn’t quite manage to silence your chattering teeth, though.

“That’s what you get for jumping into a river at night.”

“It was so worth it,” you countered, smirking. You could just imagine him shaking his head, but really, his eyes were skimming over your still naked form as he thought, Okay, it was a little worth it.

When Din finished drying your hair as best he could, he reached for the lamp, extinguishing it. You were both still so cold, so you quickly burrowed into the nest of blankets. You blindly searched until you found Din’s hand, and he pulled you close, tucking your head under his chin as you buried your cold nose against his neck. He shuddered, arms wrapping around you, legs tangling with yours.

You grew drowsy as you started to warm up, and you were just starting to doze when you felt Din’s thumb slowly glide up and down your right arm, tracing the scar there. The one Xi’an had given you. As if he could sense your attention on it, he stopped.

“Is this alright?” he asked, relaying an unspoken question. You understood his sudden hesitation and nodded.

“It’s fine. It’s not as bad as the other ones.”

You thought back to before, though, when he’d kissed one of those other scars, and you hadn’t arched away from his touch. You wondered why he’d done that, and why you sort of wished he’d do it again.

“Xi’an got me too, one time,” Din said quietly.

“What?” you blanched, almost jumping up to look at him.

His fingers trailed back up your arm, running along the scar, before reaching your hand, cupping the back of it in his. Slowly, he dragged your right hand over to the skin between his shoulder and collar, and your fingers ghosted over a small section of puckered skin.

“One of her knives found this spot here, right where my chestplate ends.”

You were silent, letting him tell you the story of his scar. Though, the thought of Xi’an and one of her knives being that close to his heart sent your insides roiling, that familiar rage bubbling up. Sensing the change in you, Din pushed on, this time guiding your hand up to his chin.

“This was pre-helmet. Took a pretty bad hit during training and landed on my face. Split my chin open and broke my nose.”

You’d guessed that his nose had been broken at one point in his life. Considering this, while you’d always respected his Creed, you found that you were actually feeling grateful for his ever present helmet now, especially considering how many hits you’ve seen him take in the last six months alone.

Din continued to guide your hand, taking you on a tour of his scars, and there was something just so intimate about it. So vulnerable.

I know your scars make you feel exposed, a physical reminder of the pain they had all caused you, inside and out. So let me show you mine.

There were a few on his arms, one on his collar bone, and a couple from narrow misses around his abdomen. When he slid your hand over one on his left side, your fingers grazing over what must have once been a large gash just under his pectoral, you sucked in a breath with a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation.

“I have one there too.” This time, you took his hand, and led him to your left side, letting him feel the raised skin just below your breast. He carefully traced the length of it, finding that it wrapped around your side, blending into the scars on your back.

When Din paused, not wanting to push you, you whispered, “It’s okay.”

However, he didn’t continue along your back, but simply brought his thumb back along the scar on your side. After a measured pause, he gently pushed you back into the nest of blankets, then lowered his head, and pressed his lips against the scar.

Your heart skipped and your exhale was a shuddering sigh as you watched, unable to see more than the outline of Din’s curly hair. He kissed it again, this time brushing his knuckles along the side of your breast. You didn’t dare speak as he finished, his lips trailing upward along the hill of sensitive skin before catching your taut nipple between his teeth.

This time, it was your turn to snap. You shoved against him, rolling. Din chuckled as you crawled on top of him, but the sound died away as you leaned down and kissed him. And then, you took your time kissing his scars.

---

Tag List: Please let me know if you used to be tagged in this story and have changed your name since the last real update. If you’d like to be tagged again, I’d be more than happy to add you!

@doubtedbus409 @shadowfoxey @knockbeforeyouspeak @ispilledmyink @sinon36 @marvelobsessiononastick @pascalisthepunkest @yepimthatperson @sunkissed-winter @the-feckless-wonder @fruitsaladtrees @adikaofmandalore @sevvysaurus @pisss-offf-ghostt @mrsparknuts @marvgrrl @kateb013 @readsalot73 @absurdthirst @everythingaboutnothingstuff @leo-moon @notawhitegirlblog @tastefulmisunderstanding @gracieadorable @depresseddarth66 @fioccodineveautunnale @earthtokace @weirdowithnobeardo @altarsw @mcakiecorgana @multifandom-fiasco @paryl @apples-of-february @weebnumber3622 @kirstiehenderson29 @justanotherblonde23 @paintballkid711

(Previous tags that no longer link: @sirianfromsixties @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @imaginebeinlovedbyme @stevieharrrr (miss you stevie!) @irishleesh93 @eli-bourne @legendofcilla @nanutsch @rogerandhiscar)

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x y/n #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x y/n #baby yoda

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lady-janes-smut-stash · 4 years

Text

Under the Mahogany Table-Tokoyami Fumikage Pt.2

Words: 2700

Characters: Tokoyami Fumikage & Dark Shadow x Reader

Spice: Spicy AF

Warnings: Filthy Language, Smut, NSFW, Unprotected Sex

After your steamy public study session Tokoyami, Dark Shadow, and you take things to his place.

This is lemony smut trash- read >>>>Part 1 <<<<< First.

Characters are aged up. I don’t write often so don’t spell check me-

“So now that you’ve used your quirk to fuck me, do you want to take me home and try it the old fashion way, or am i going to have to play coy and wait for the third date?”

You blushed hard, recalling your words from earlier that day.

Tokoyami Fumikage and Dark Shadow had carried you- like a princess- to a taxi waiting outside Momo’s mansion.

On the ride back to the dorms, through the afterglow of an earth-shattering orgasm- you had acted like Fumikage’s long-time girlfriend, Touching your bird boy as you pleased- not a care in the world.

Your sexual euphoria lasted until you reached the door of his room.

Now you felt just like the nervous awkward virgin you had always been.

Tokoyami stood within the dark depths of his room, feathered head quirked to the side as he studied you with those intense garnet eyes.

It struck you that Fumikage was an unknowing participant of your first sexual encounter. Not really even a participant as much as an informed onlooker- one of many onlookers.

Your eyes fell to your shoes, studying the frayed edges of your laces to buy some time.

Had you pushed too hard when you asked that he be the one to fuck you this time? Maybe he wanted to go slow?

“Is this...okay?” You whispered, uncertainty making your voice tremble, you raise your eyes to Fumikage. “Outside of...earlier with Dark Shadow I’ve never…I mean- I want to! I just-”

This was...so much harder than the sudden, random encounter you had with Dark Shadow in Momo’s dining room..

“Y/N.” He made your name sound beautiful when it came from him. “I just want to spend time with you, nothing else has to happen.”

He reached a hand out to you in invitation.

You moved towards him, but found yourself crushed against his torso as Dark Shadow wrapped himself around both of you.

“You’ll be leaving this room well fucked or not at all.” Tokoyami tensed around you.

“Dark Shadow, enough!” The shadowy entity pulled into Tokoyami without complaint.

Fumikage wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head before releasing a long sigh. “Once again, I’m sorry. Feel free to ignore him whenever he opens his mouth-”

“Easier said than done-” You mumbled, grinning into his chest as his feathers bristled in surprise. “Do you have any movies?”

“Yes!” His voice cracked, you giggled as he pulled you into his room, closed the door and led you to his bed.

You glanced around; low lighting and black walls covered in posters that screamed 90’s emo but still suited his edgy aesthetic.

You thought of the black leather corset and fishnet outfit you came across online- at the time it looked stupid and you wondered who would even buy something like that- but now...You glanced at Tokoyami- you decided it might be a good investment...

“The room is a bit- '' Hesitating, he took in his room. His hand rubbed the back of his neck, the other shoved into the pocket of his jeans. You imagined he blushed under the glossy black plumage covering his face.

“I like it.” You smiled up at him as you took your seat on the bed. The mattress dipped under your weight, the blanket was soft under your thighs reminding you that Tokoyami had taken your panties. You glanced at the hand in his pocket, the fabric moving over the motions of his fingers.

He’s touching my panties.

You licked your lips, eye trailing from his hand to meet his eyes.

“Keep them.” Your voice sounded rough, you clenched your thighs together as a now familiar heat coiled in your belly.

“I intended to.” His voice washed over you like warm honey, your lips parted. “I- I’ll get the movie.”

“Smooth.” Dark Shadow popped out to hover over Tokoyami’s shoulder, his yellow eyes trained on your breasts. You were surprised when Tokoyami allowed him to linger. “I got the movie, hope you're into horror, babe.”

Babe...

Before today Dark Shadow was just a quirk, an extension of Tokoyami, now- after your earlier exchange- Your pussy throbbed at the memory of Dark Shadows long cold tongue invading your most private place. Your thighs rubbed together as you quelled your desires.

Tokoyami wanted to watch a movie and you did not want to make him uncomfortable.

He took his seat a respectable distance away from you, close enough to touch if you reached out- but too distant for anything low key. You huffed, scooting back on the bed and resting your back against the wall, you would enjoy his company regardless, so it wasn’t a big deal.

Tokoyami perched on the edge of his bed until Dark Shadow had his laptop set up on the desk for you all to view. As the movie was loading he pushed himself back on the bed, his back resting against the wall but maintaining his distance from you.

You tucked your legs under and faced Tokoyami as you prepared to move closer, you assumed he wanted to go slow- you respected that and would not touch him- but you had to close that distance.

“You're both so stiff.” Dark Shadow snorted as he drifted his way back to you. His eyes darted to Tokoyami before settling on your face. “It’s a long movie, we should get comfortable, Babe.”

His chilly hands curled around your shoulders, you hadn’t realized how large he had grown in the darkness of the room. With a light push you landed on your back with a bounce.

Dark shadow wedged himself between your legs, nestling his long smooth body between your parted thighs, his arms moved to circle your torso as his head rested on your breasts.

The chill from his body seeped through your clothes and your nipples beaded under the weight of his transparent body. You kept your knees bent, not wanting to kick fumikage but not having a choice but to lay down.

“Hyo!”

You gasped. How could you forget?

Through the transparent body of Dark Shadow you watched Tokoyami take you in.

Your legs spread wide to accommodate Dark Shadow's larger body, your skirt bunched up well over your hips, you grew wet as Tokoyamis’ eyes roamed over your naked pussy.

You clenched your thighs together, pulling at the fabric trapped between you and Dark Shadow in an effort to cover yourself.

Dark Shadow refused to budge, pulling your arms away to lock your wrists in a chilly grip over your head, he shoved his free hand between your bodies to rest on your stomach. Goosebumps flooded your skin in the wake of his fingers as they traveled down the swell of your stomach and over your mound to reach the apex of your thighs.

“He’s never seen a pussy before.” Dark Shadow whispered into your ear, his fingers delving into your folds to open you to Tokoyamis’ rapt gaze. “Let em’ look.” You nodded, your head growing fuzzy with arousal, you spread your legs- splaying yourself at Dark Shadows’ request.

“Do you want my fingers inside you?” Cool breath tickled your ear, you nodded eagerly. “Tell me you want to be fucked by my fingers.”

Your face heated, you caught Tokoyami’s glazed eyes. A whimper escaped you..

“Please, fuck me with your fingers.” You cried, wiggling your hips to encourage him.

“She’s dripping wet and we haven't even started..” Dark Shadow turned to Tokoyami, your back arched as you felt the cold stretch of his fingers entering you. Your moan echoed through the room as his thumb circled your clit, ghosting over the hard nub. “Such a tight pussy, I can hardly fit two fingers in.”

He stilled his fingers, watching your face with a wicked grin.

“Move.” You whined, grinding yourself against his hand, “Please, stop teasing me.”

“Tell me, did you save this tight little cunt for us, babe?” You cried out as he spread his fingers inside you. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you ready for cock soon-”

“Yes, yes yes-”

“Fuck.” Tokoyami gripped your knees, spreading you wider as he watched Dark Shadows fingers fuck you. Dark Shadow hummed as your body tightened around his fingers. “She’s so wet.”

“She made all this just for us.” You whimpered as Dark Shadow pulled his fingers back to spread them in front of Tokoyamis’ face. Your juices coated his hand, strings of it connecting his fingers. “She tastes just like warm honey.”

“Hmmm.” Tokoyami leaned forward, opening his mouth to lick your essence off of Dark Shadows fingers. He closed his eyes as if savoring your taste. “Perfect.”

“Tokoyami…” You breathed.

His eyes opened slowly, locking on yours, his mouth curled into a grin as he crawled forward. Dark shadow vacated his spot between your legs, drifting down by your head he released your wrists to wrap his arms around you from behind, sitting you up in the process.

You spread your legs as Tokoyami took his place on his knees between your legs, his hot palms sliding up your thighs as Dark Shadow palmed your breasts. It was too much and not enough,

You arched your back, raising your arms as Dark Shadow yanked your shirt off and over your head, your breasts bounced with the force of it.

“No bra, babe?” Dark shadows hands curled around your chest, avoiding your sensitive nipples as Tokoyami took his time exploring your flesh. It was perfect, but not enough to get you off.

Your hand wandered down to your throbbing pussy, desperate to reach the peak Dark shadow had taken you too earlier. You had delved in just enough to wet your fingers when your hand was seized by Tokoyami.

“That’s mine.” He leaned forward, licking your fingers as he had Dark Shadows. “Tell me what you want.” His deep voice wavered as he nuzzled into your palm.

“You.” You blurted, blushing hard as you used your free hand to touch yourself once more, spreading the lips of your pussy and exposing your soaking virgin hole. “I need you inside of me, please.”

“He’s not going to last if you keep that up, babe.” Dark shadow released your breast, stretching his ghostly arms across your body to brush your hands away and undo Tokoyami’s pants. His cock bounced free as his pants and underwear were jerked down, you marveled at the size of him.

You pushed to your knees, leaning in to explore.

He hissed as you gripped his hot thick length, moaning your name as he bucked into your palm. Moisture beaded on the tip of his cock, you couldn't help but lean forward and taste him with a flick of your tongue.

Tokoyami whimpered, gripping the back of your head by the hair he rubbed his cock against your lips.

“Open that pretty mouth and take my cock.” He gasped.

Before you could open your lips and take him into your mouth, Dark Shadow pulled Tokoyami back by the hips.

“Not yet.” You whined at Dark Shadow’s voice, “I just got her cunt ready and now I want to see it stuffed with cock.”

Tokoyami grunted, as soon as Dark Shadow released his hips he had you pinned to the bed, his cock rubbing through your folds, slipping over your slit to bump your swollen clit.

“So fucking wet.” Tokoyami whispered, “Did you stretch her for me?”

His chest rumbled over yours, the fabric of his shirt felt rough against your sensitive nipples.

“She is really tight, but she was made to be fucked by us.” You gasped as the head of Tokoyami’s cock pressed at your entrance.

“Please.” You begged, your nails digging into his back, urging him on.

“Such a good girl, begging for cock.” Dark Shadow’s cold breath fanned over your cheek while Tokoyami painted on the other.

“Dark Shadow.” Tokoyami breathed, nuzzling his face against yours.

Dark shadow nodded, nibbling your ear before pulling away. “Don’t take too long.” He mumbled as he vanished into Tokoyami’s body.

You squirmed as Tokoyami pressed deeper into your body, sweat beaded on his neck as he penetrated you slowly. You bit your lip, gripping his shoulders as his girth stretched you to your limits and left you in delicious pain. You gasped as he filled you to the hilt, the tip of his cock pressing against your womb.

Glistening sweat dropped from his body to yours as he trembled above you.

“So- So tight.” His voice broke above you, “Forgive me, I Can’t- I can’t hold back…”

“Don’t hold back.” Your hands wandered down, gripping his ass. “Give me everything.”

He eased back, pulling out of you until only the tip of his cock remained inside. You cried out in protest, needing to be filled.

Before you could beg him to return he slammed into you, the bed rocked with the force of it.

“Gentle, gentle, gentle.” He mumbled to himself as he eased out of you once more only to return just as slow.

His pace was maddening.

“I’m ready for your cock,” You begged, pulling at his hips. “Fuck me- please fuck me hard.”

Tokoyami nodded, leaning back once more to pull your legs up, your calves resting on his shoulders. He returned over you, his hands dipping the bed on either side of your head as your thighs crushed your breasts.

Your body strained under the new position, but as his cock pounded you in the new angle you screamed in pleasure.

“Tell me- tell me you love me.” Erotic sounds of damp skin slapping togehter and heavy breathing filled the dark room. Your teeth gnashed together with the force of his thrusts.

“I-I...Oh, god.” You moaned as he fucked you, unable to answer. “More, please more.”

“I’m gonna fill your tight hole with my cum,” He leaned back, watching his cock disappear into your body over and over. “I’ll plant my seed in your cunt- get you fat with a child- and you will have to love me…”

You wanted to scream yes, to beg him to come inside of you, but your orgasm strangled you. The glorious pressure building inside of you dwarfed your earlier orgasm with Dark Shadow.

“Tokoyami!” You pleaded, begging him to bring you over the edge. Tears rolled down the corners of your eyes as his fingers dug into your tight hard enough to bruise.

“Come for me.” Your body trembled as you peaked, your pussy tightening around Tokoyami’s cock like a fist.

You screamed his name as your body flooded with wave after wave of pleasure. Tokoyami’s pounding thrusts became erratic as he flooded your body with his hot cum.

Tokoyami’s baby could be forming inside of you right now.

You should be upset.

Tokoyami pulled your legs down from his shoulders to wrap them around his waist before collapsing on top of you.

You rested under him, comfortably trapped under his weight as you caught your breath, pinned with his softening length still inside you. Your mingled juices formed a warm puddle under your ass and your skin felt itchy and tight as your sweat dried, but you refused to break the connection.

You could never be upset with him, the thought of growing round with his child made your insides flutter with excitement.

He lifted his head, but your hand on the back of his neck stilled him.

“I love you.”

Your soft voice was hardly a whisper and the words themselves were ridiculous considering you two had only spoken a handful of times over the span of years- and Tokoyami had demanded you say them in the heat of passion...But you had to say them.

You had loved him from the moment you had seen him.

You clung to him, your face resting in the crook of his neck, preventing him from seeing it.

His arms circled you, squeezing tight as his breath hitched. You felt his cock hardening inside of you.

“Love you too, babe.” Dark Shadow’s yellow eyes peeked at you from over Tokoyami’s shoulder. “Now get up, you're going to use your mouth to clean up this sloppy cock.”

“Dark Shadow!” Tokoyami’s arms tightened around you.

Dark Shadow shrugged, making you giggle. You were tired, but recalling the brief taste you had earlier- your tender pussy clenched around Tokoyami coaxing a moan out of you both.

You smiled softly up at your two lovers knowing that it would be a long night, and you would most certainly be leaving the room well fucked or not at all.

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