#also take a shot every time u see something red | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tlouadditc · 9 months

Note

Hiii, first of all I love all your content. Could you pls make a one shot or a story about y/n as a cheerleader or something else and ellie as a football player in college? <3

touchdown.

college football!ellie x cheerleader!reader.

a/n: tysm for this req!! i had fun writing this even though i have no idea what goes on in sports (oops). keep that in mind so if i got something wrong, forgive me!! also ellie has the farm!ellie haircut because thats my fav ellie. anyway, enjoy <33

warnings: smut with plot, 18+ (MDNI), lowercase intended, a lil bit of fluff at the beginning [if u squint!], dirty talk (a lot of it.), daddy kink [oops!!], mean ellie, teasing, short nipple play [literally one line], ruined orgasm, no aftercare [eek.] NOT PROOFREAD LOL.

it's late august, the mild heat hitting your back as you walk to your dorms. the season officially starts in a couple of days- meaning the first football game is also gonna happen in a couple days- and you're the most worked up you've ever been. the break was nice; being able to see your family consistently for a couple months was much needed. but as you opened the door to your dorm, you realized you can't reminisce about the break. get ready for the next week.

as you begin to unpack your bags, you hear the door slightly open behind you. you smile, knowing who's there already. a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling your hips back slightly. "she's baaaaack," ellie says quietly, kissing your neck gently as she rocks your hips side to side. you chuckle slightly, turning to look at your girlfriend. "missed you, babe," you say, fully embracing her in your arms. you feel her smile into your neck. pulling back, you give her a small peck on the cheek and admire her.

"new hair?" you question, noticing a small change; the length. she steps back, nodding. "you like it?" she says, still smiling. her auburn hair was cut right to her chin with a side part plastered into it. "i love it, actually," you declare, tucking some stray hairs back behind her pierced ears. "suits you."

she grins before sitting on your bed. "enough about my changes," she begins, "how was your break? you ready for another season of being my personal cheerleader?" you laugh, "babe, i have to cheer for everyone. but my break was good, i guess. was thinking of you the entire time."

"whaaaatever," she teases, rolling her eyes playfully. "i missed you more. almost went crazy without you." ellie was always super dramatic when it came to you; the entire break, she complained about how she was gonna die if she didn't see you in the next couple of hours. it's something you loved about her.

"oh, that reminds me," you suddenly utter, rushing to your closet to grab something. "we got new outfits!"

"oh, yeah?" ellie sat up on your bed, fully attentive to the outfit in question. "let me see it." you excitedly hold it up; a black mini pleated skirt with red glittery trim on the bottom. a matching cropped tank top came with it. it had your college's mascot plastered on the front with your last name on the back.

"wow," she clears her throat, eyes blown wide while eyeing it up and down. "i think you should t-try it on." you giggle and turn to go change.

after a couple minutes, you get it on. before you leave, you assess how it fits on you; your boobs are perfectly sitting inside the tank top, making your figure look sleek and classy. the skirt, however.. bend over and your ass is completely out. you stare at yourself, taking in everything. you snap out of your daze when you hear ellie knock on the door. "babe? you good in there?" she asks, a slight tone of concern being heard. without answering, you open the door to reveal yourself.

for a few seconds, she stands there, mouth open. no words. just admiring every part of you. she moves her hands to your sides, mouthing wow as her eyes travel up and down your body. "you like?" you ask, slightly smirking as you look into her eyes.

"god, i love it," she breathes, her eyes moving from your body up to your eyes. a hand goes to your skirt, lifting it up. "but this lil' skirt's gonna distract everyone, y'know that?"

before you can respond, someone bangs at the front door, causing you both to jump. "y/n!" they yelled, "practice is starting! hurry up!"

goddamnit, you think. you look at ellie with apologetic eyes, grabbing your stuff. almost as if she can read your mind, she goes to the door and yells, "i'll see you down there, babe. tell em' i'll be late!"

practice was boring. a lot of forced small-talk with your teammates about their break, the drills were actually ass, it was a bad start to the season. ellie, who was on the other side of the field you were practicing on, was eyeing you the entire time. the way your skirt went up and revealed your ass took away every ounce of attention that was meant for her sport.

you knew what you were doing. you felt her eyes on you the entire time. anytime you had a chance to tease her when nobody was looking, you'd flip your skirt up and play it off as you fixing your outfit.

after practice, you go back to your dorm and take a quick shower. as soon as you grab your towel, your phone vibrates.

ellie: open the door

you look at the text, confused. nonetheless, you walk to the door in your towel and look through the peephole. ellie's there, waiting impatiently. you unlock the door and twist the knob to open it.

as soon as you open it, ellie forces her way in. she pushes you onto your bed, turning back to close and lock the door. when she turns back to you, you see her dark expression. she's definitely frustrated, pissed even. before you can ask any questions, she simply states:

"you think you can tease me all day and get away with it?"

you're still confused, forgetting completely about practice. when it hits you, she has a slight smirk on her face. "yeah, you remember."

she gets on top of you, planting small, but passionate kisses from your cheeks down to your collarbone. "flipping up that small fucking skirt, thinking i wouldn't do anything to you," she mumbles, pulling down the top of your towel, exposing your breasts. she cups one in each hand, running her thumb over your nipple. "these pretty fuckin' tits," she continues, "bouncing every time you jump.. fuckin' driving me crazy, y'know?"

you whimper, getting wetter by the second. "oh, you want me to fuck you, huh?" she coos, moving down to your ear. "want me to fuck you dumb? make you cum all night?" all you can do is mumble small yes's, feeding into your submission. "oh, i know, baby."

she pulls the towel off of you, fully exposing your damp body. her hands roam from your sides down to your sopping wet cunt, earning a small gasp from you. "what? you want me to touch you here, doll?" she asks, slightly in a mocking tone. you nod feverishly, opening your legs a bit. the wetness coats your inner thighs, glistening in the light above you two.

"god, so wet just for me?" she asks, looking you in the eyes. her middle finger traces along your slit, collecting your slick on her finger. you whine, opening your legs wider so she can slip a finger in you.

"what do you want? hm?" she moves right in front of your face, keeping her middle finger at your entrance. "use your words, baby."

"p-please fuck me, ellie."

"that's not the name you use. you know that."

"fuck- please, i n-need it."

"what's my name?"

you hesitate before answering quietly, "daddy."

"that's right. good girl."

she slips her middle finger into you, earning a gasp from you as you clench around her finger. she moves it in and out as you try to gain any friction from her palm. you look so needly, so helpless in this state; it turns ellie on so much. she's just looking down at you, watching you get off like a fucking dog.

"fuck, you look so good like this baby," she whispers, teasing another finger at your entrance. you pathetically whimper and hold her arm with both hands. "you want another?"

the way she asks you is in a mocking way, making you feel dumb under her touch. but it feels to good to stop now. you nod, almost crying, chasing your orgasm.

"do you deserve it, baby?" she speaks, looking you directly in your eyes. "do you really? answer me."

she's slowing down. you beg and plead for her to keep going; all you can hear are your babbles, "pleasepleaseplease daddy, i need it, i'll be good i promise, im sorry"

"you should've thought about that before you teased me, slut."

she completely removes her fingers, making you whine in frustration. you're mad, but to be fair.. you brought it on yourself.

a/n: this took so long omg writers block is an ass. anyway. might make another part, i just need more ideas if i make another.

#tlouadditc #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #the last of us smut #ellie williams x black reader #tlou smut #tlou2 smut #ellie williams x reader

622 notes · View notes

cosmal · 1 year

Note

AYO CONGRATS ON 3K!! love ur blog and ur writing and u immensely.

(tbh i have this irrational fear of making requests even if people are like "make a request pls" but i saw ur post and literally u don't have to tell me twice. for future reference blink twice if u want to hear every single thought of mine ever.)

spacey jane: james potter + you're here, that's the thing by beabadoobee

"i've got you wrapped around my finger like a piece of ribbon, you just won't admit it that you're smitten"

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 — 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

thank you thank you!!!! please omg request whatever yo whenever you want. i love all requests i get and appreciate them so so much. omg.

summary — james let’s you take him home when he’s drunk. james’s friends think he’s whipped.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, drunk!james

You can hear him before you see him. It’s not out of the ordinary for him to be loud, you know that too well. You follow the noise from the front door all the way to the sitting room.

You’re not sure what you and James are. He’s not your boyfriend. But, he calls you sweetheart and he kisses your cheek sometimes when you want him to. He invites you places with his friends but spends the entire time with you. He gets you flowers, not ones from the florist on his street, ones he finds when he walks to your house that he says remind him of you. He visits you with lunch during your breaks when you’re studying. He gets two of the same, but no meat in yours because he knows you don’t eat it. And sits and eats with you, listening to everything you have to say about how school is going.

But despite those things, he’s not your boyfriend.

But when he sees you for the first time tonight, and his face lights up more than you’d hoped it would because you’re really trying not to get ahead of yourself, you sort of wish he was your boyfriend.

“Y/N!” he cheers, still loud. Still very hearty.

“Hey,” you smile. You try to direct it around the room. You really like his friends and you don’t want to play favourite. Even though you’re definitely softer on him than the others. You’ve never kissed Remus on the cheek because you fancy him.

You sit on the arm of the sofa he’s at and try not to act too affected when he sets his hand on your thigh. His palm flush with the hem of your shorts.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. It’s more of a slur. Words sticky with intoxication. His face is flushed and you fight the urge to press your fingers into his warm skin.

“I’m your lift,” you remind him. Like you hadn’t spoke on the phone no less than an hour ago.

“Y/N!” he’d yelled down the line. “Y/N, could you pick me up tonight?”

“Yeah, of course, James.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I owe you one.”

You didn’t have the guts to say it, but you’d do anything for him if he asked.

“Oh, right,” he laughs, attention turned back to the plastic cup in his hands. He swigs whatever’s in it. “We’re playing strip poker.”

Everyone’s still clothed. You think maybe they haven’t started yet.

“Wanna play?” Sirius asks, shuffling a deck of cards. He looks almost as drunk as James. Remus and Emmeline look like they’re on their way to join them.

“Shut the fuck up, Pads,” James groans. He might be blushing. You might also be imagining it.

“What?” he snorts.

“She doesn’t want to play.” James sits up in his chair, sniffing, he adds, “neither do I, really.”

“It was your idea!”

“Whatever.”

You don’t want to play. If James Potter were to ever see you naked, you don’t want it to be with his friends as well.

James sips from his drink again to occupy his mouth. If you weren’t here, he might’ve said what he really wanted to say to Sirius. Something he usually does when it’s just the two of them.

He spills the majority of his drink down the front of his lovely red shirt. You take it from his hands, wiping the mess from his cheeks. James sits and lets you do it with no problems.

“Can we do shots?” Sirius asks. You glare at James’s friend. A look that reads your friend is off his face and you want to do shots?

“Yes!” James cheers through a hiccup. You stable a hand on his back.

While Sirius gets up to go find shot glasses, you lean down to whisper into James’s ear. “Do you want to go home?”

James stops splashing around his drink in his cup to look at you. “Maybe,” he says, blinking slowly. You think it’s quite adorable. “Do you?”

“Only if you do.”

“I am feeling a bit sick.”

And he wanted to do shots. “Yeah?” you ask, squeezing his shoulder. “You can stay at mine if you want.” You only suggest it because you live close by.

James grins. “Can I do a shot first?”

“I don’t think so, baby.” You run a knuckle over his flushed cheek. “C’mon. I’ll take you home.”

You don’t mean to be that girl that steals the boy they’re talking to away from a party. But you think if he drinks anything else he might be sick. He needs water and a bed.

When Sirius gets back you’re helping James from the sofa, hand held through his. He wobbles and you stable him with a hand behind his back.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Sirius asks.

“Home,” James tells him. “Well, not really. I’m going to Y/N’s house.”

“As if. It’s 9pm on a Friday.”

“Sirius, fuck up,” James argues. “I’m going to a girls house and you’re gonna get over it.”

“You’re drunk, Y/N won’t touch you.”

You balk. “I’m gonna clean him up and put him to bed.”

James grins boyishly. “She’s gonna put me to bed.”

“God, you’re fucking whipped, mate.” Sirius finds it hard to act incensed over his friends happiness. It’s still fun.

“Shut up. Go finish reading that book Moony told you about.”

Sirius blushes. Grumbling all the way back to his seat. “Moons, my best friend sucks.”

James forgets about the idea of shots as soon as he gets into your car and you keep your hand held in his when you can the entire drive to yours. He won’t let anyone know how much he loves getting doted on by you at your house. He might get drunk a little more often, he thinks, if there’s a chance you’ll wash his face and help him into your bed.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x female!reader #james potter x female reader #james potter drabble #james potter one shot #james potter headcanon #james potter drabbles #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #james potter fan fic #marauder x reader #the marauders #the marauders fanfic #the marauders fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

heartbreakgrill · 8 months

Text

stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt. 3, “devils rolls the dice, angels roll their eyes. if i bleed, you’ll be the last to know.”

description: situationship x stiles.

stiles: hey :)

y/n: hello! don’t let coach see u on ur phone, loser :)

stiles: i know, i know. just thinking of you

y/n: oh?

y/n’s throat tightened. she looked up across the lunch room, past danny’s head. her stare blanked at the wall. he was thinking of her. thinking of her…how? that was a very loaded statement to make. it was…flirtatious. caring. it was a strings attached kind of statement. it was dangerous.

her phone buzzed.

stiles: thinking of that lacey bra you had on the other day, mostly :)

y/n flushed, a red, hot buzz radiating off her skin. she nearly choked on her spit, and had to take a quick sip of water. danny- who was shooting off at the mouth about something during the lacrosse game last friday- barely glanced at her. he kept blabbering.

this? y/n was good at this. she didn’t have to look him in the eye while saying the dirtjest things she could. this was just her, her phone, and her imagination.

y/n: today it’s red

stiles: pics or it didn’t happen

stiles…was not good at this. she didn’t expect him to be. he was awkward, no matter what. but, it took the pressure off of most of the stressful things in life. that’s part of what she was starting to value most in his character.

y/n: come see for yourself ;)

stiles: fuck, i’m in econ!

y/n: excuses, excuses

stiles: no, no, i would if i could, i promise!

y/n: prove it, then ;)

stiles: meet me in the locker room in 5

y/n pocketed her phone, grabbed her bag.

it had been nearly a week since their first time. she thought about it almost every second of every day. it was clouding the heartbreak that had lingered on her like freezing rain. it was loosening her mangled mind.

she hadn’t expected for them to fuck every single day since then. but, neither of them had said anything about it. she was half-worried that she was so terrible, he didn’t want anything to do with that aspect of their relationship. instead, they’d just been texting a lot about other stuff. music, movies, books. they were bonding.

it was cool to have another friend, but god- she wanted him.

stiles had been dealing with his own issues. he, scott, lydia, allison- they’d spent a night tracking boyd and cora, after searching for a week to find them in the vault. it was an exhausting gig, on top of lacrosse practice, the game last friday, homework. he hadn’t had time to really think about getting laid.

but, now, here he was- monday at 12:10pm, during economics, with coach yelling like a banshee- he tried to focus on the chalkboard, on the text highlighted in his book. all he could think about was her. her skin, delicate beneath his fingertips. her lips, so plump against his neck. her legs-

he dumped his shit into his backpack and shouldered it quickly. scott whipped his head towards his friend, concerned. then, the werewolf caught a whiff of stiles’ hormones. scott crinkled his expression, grossed out. but, he shot stiles a half-hearted thumbs up.

coach called after the boy, “hey, next time, let’s try, excuse me, may i use the restroom, k?”

coach continued on with some angry remark, but stiles ignored him.

he made it to the locker room, quickly, nearly out of breath from how fast his pace was. stiles tossed the door open, and it slammed shut behind him. y/n wasn’t visible to him. he set down his bag, “y/n? hello?”

stiles looked around every which corner, but she wasn’t there. he pulled out his phone, and saw a text from her.

y/n: was on my way, but danny made me go stalk the new boy ethan in study hall. i’m so so sorry stiles! i’m totally going to make it up to. what are you doing 6th period?????

stiles’ shoulders dropped. he slouched down on one of the benches, feeling a little blue-balled. then, a second text dinged.

y/n: also here, for now ;) 1 attached photo

he nearly broke his phone. it flipped out of his hand, and he jumped from the bench to grab it before it hit the floor. he fell onto his knees, awkwardly holding the device in the air. the picture stared back at him. she’d slipped into the school bathroom to take a picture for him. for him. stiles.

he fell over, again, this time onto his stomach. stiles groaned, annoyedly, into the concrete floor of the locker room. his life sucked so bad.

the bell rang for lunch.

–

stiles: all yours, baby. see you, then

y/n, now in history, felt her breath hitch at the text. baby? baby. he called her baby. she knew, a lot of the times, people used pet names when they were sexting. but, this…was strange for a guy like stiles. he wasn’t fluid or, by any means, good at sexting. he wasn’t the type to know to say that. he wasn’t the type to…y/n overthought it every which way that she possibly could.

and, then, he texted her again.

stiles: you are so, so beautiful. 1 attached photo

y/n choked on her spit this time. she dropped her phone onto the desk, coughing hysterically. danny, seated behind her, leaned forward. he patted her back, asked her if she was okay. she gave him a thumbs up, kind of.

stiles was wearing underwear with pickles on them.

and he was very, very hard.

the bell rang, signaling the end of the transitional period, and the instructor began the lesson. y/n took a swig of water. she was sweating a little bit. she was struggling to sit still.

someone’s phone dinged. the instructor called out, “please, everyone, take a moment to put your phones away.”

y/n grabbed her cell, staring intensely at the photo as she slowly, painfully, leaned over to put it in her bag.

–

y/n: do you know how hard it was to pay attention in class, thinking about you like that?

y/n: i want to take care of you so badly

y/n: i’m in the locker room, where are you?

y/n: please, stiles. need you

stiles phone buzzed, four times, in the back of his jeans pocket. scott, ethan, and aiden glanced over at him. he cleared his throat, scratched the side of his neck.

“let me, just…” he stepped aside from the conversation to look at his phone screen.

his face turned beat red.

he hasn’t forgotten about their plans, but time got away from him. it was 6th period, and he was stuck interrogating alpha werewolves about supernatural shit. it was in times like these, when he wished life was normal. unfortunately, life is anything but.

stiles: i’m so fucking sorry. scott needed me for something. please don’t be mad at me. next period, promise

y/n: you know girls can get blue ball too?

y/n: it’s just easier to hide.

y/n: good luck :) 1 attached photo

oh, fuck.

–

7th period.

y/n was marching towards the locker room. she dumped her book bag at her locker, intending to be done with school for the day, since her next class would be her free period. she had one very important, very…big thing on her mind.

y/n was just around the corner from the locker room when a voice called out her name. she skidded to a stop, shoulders tense, and a huff on her lips, where stiles’ should be.

“y/n…the bell rang four minutes ago,” miss blake spoke, looking pointedly in y/n’s eyes.

y/n smiled, so painfully fake, “yes, ma’am.”

“so, you have one minute to get to my class on time. yet, you seem to be headed for the locker room. do you have a late pass?” miss blake was on her high fucking horse today, it seemed.

y/n shook her head, lips pursed in annoyance, “no, ma’am.”

“oh, silly me, then,” she rolled her eyes in a funny manner, “you must just be turning around then. here, we can walk together?”

miss blake looped her arm through y/n’s, and led them towards the english classroom at the other end of the hall.

y/n didn’t get a chance to text stiles back, but she just knew the poor boy was about to burst.

–

stiles: here

stiles: i can’t wait to touch you

stiles: oh my god i just saw miss blake literally drag you away from me

stiles: i’m gonna die

stiles: don’t even try to apologize, it’s literally not your fault. and i can survive with not getting off for a little while longer. guilt free zone here :)

stiles: but oh my god you’re so fucking pretty

stiles: you look so good today. and your ass looks good in those jeans

stiles: ok have fun in english. text me when you’re out. if you can. please. thanks

incoming call from: y/n :)

“y/n?”

“stiles!”

“speaking?”

“it’s my free period.”

“meet me at my jeep in 5.”

“im already here.”

–

stiles parked his jeep behind the lacrosse field. he watched y/n climb into the back seat, painfully slow in her movements. she settled onto the bench in the back of his jeep, blushing already, smiling shyly. stiles waited but a second to climb towards her. only he was a million times more awkward about it. stiles clambered through the vehicle.

“oh-!” y/n touched his back gently, assuring he safely made it back there.

his face was close to hers once he was seated. stiles flashed a sweet grin, “hi.”

“hi,” she giggled lightly. “how are you doing?”

“i’m doing swell, thank you,” stiles eyed her lips, the low curve of her v-neck t-shirt.

y/n took a breath to speak, her chest expanding. stiles watched her watched the tops of her breasts move. she barely said, “i was-“

before stiles interrupted, “i am so totally interested in what you have to say, but i really fucking need to touch you and kiss you, so please shut the fuck up.”

the soft sound of the low-volume radio and the idling engine was background noise. stiles’ windows were tinted just enough to dull out the light inside. it was tight, and they struggled against each other more than once. but stiles was more than happy to bend into strange positions so that y/n was comfortable. she didn’t ask him to- but he insisted. he insisted on putting his jacket beneath her head, so she could have a makeshift pillow. he insisted that she didn’t have to give him a blow job, so that she wouldn’t have to squeeze onto her knees behind the front seat. sure, they might have been bare minimum, consensual things that weren’t anything to write home about. but in this day and age, a boy muttering, “‘is okay?” each and every time he moved against y/n was enough to give her butterflies. it meant he cared. stiles cared.

the first time they had sex, it was just sex. they fucked, she went to the bathroom afterwards, and when she got back, he was dressed, ready to leave. stiles hadn’t known what he was supposed to do, but he figured she didn’t want him to linger.

this time, after he pulled out, wrapped the condom, and tossed it into the mini trash can in the front seat, stiles scooted over far enough on the bench to allow her room to lay down beside him. this time, it was heated…passionate. romantic.

y/n wasn’t even thinking, she was just caught up in the moment. she lay her head on his bare chest, ear cupped so she could hear his heartbeat. he was sticky with sweat, and his breathing was quick and loud. but he was warm, comfortable, and…strong. she’d never noticed that before. how defined his chest was. he was a lacrosse player, after all. even if he spent most of the time on the bench, he was still working out.

stiles tensed up under her affection, at first, but he became comfortable soon enough. he peered down at y/n. she stared off into space, and her expression was hidden from him. stiles gently slid his arm around her and the tips of his fingers floated up and down her bicep.

“what’re you thinking about?” stiles found himself saying.

y/n took a breath, regaining some semblance of awareness after she had been caught up in a daydreaming feeling. usually, after sex, she always felt…distanced. like she was behind glass. the air was slowly being sucked out of the box by her own lungs. she was suffocating.

the first time with stiles- it had felt like that, if only because of her internal battle with her feelings for sam. her mind had been racing with over wrung thoughts.

other times, like with sam, it was because the sex had felt like a transaction, like a consummation of some small part of her she’d never get it. this whole new generation was focused on sexual liberation- and y/n was into that. sex was awesome- it felt good. but, that idea completely ignored the fact that, most often, sex between a teenage boy and girl was laced with miscommunication and manipulation.

this time- this time was good. this time felt- liberating. it felt good. she got off. sure, she’d gotten off a few other hands, if only at her own hands. but, this time- stiles had made her feel good. and, she didn’t feel shitty because she wasn’t trying to get some small form of intimacy from someone she wanted to love and have. no, this time it was really just sex. sex with someone kind, considerate, and unattached.

(even if they were cuddling and neither of them wanted to admit how good that felt.)

“not much,” y/n lied through her teeth.

stiles caught a piece of her hair between his fingers and tugged at mindlessly. it tickled the back of her neck. stiles was hoping she was going to say something heartfelt, something sweet. he had gotten his hopes, for no reason. after all, he knew the rules. “fair. uh, hey, listen…i should probably-“

“oh, yeah, no, of course,” y/n sat up quickly, covering herself with his jacket.

they settled, side by side, on the seats of the jeep. y/n shifted awkwardly, reaching across his lap for her t-shirt that shoved between the wall and the seat. stiles reached her direction for his own shirt. they stumbled over each other for a second or two, muttering sorry’s and elbowing sides. then they were holding their respective clothing pieces.

they dressed in silence.

“i’ll drive you back, okay?” stiles offered.

y/n tugged her shirt down her torso, breathing deeply, “uh, sure, yeah. yeah.”

so, stiles drove them back over to the main parking lot. school was just letting out for the day. stiles spotted scott running down the front steps, seemingly in a rush, as the jeep came to a stop beside y/n’s car.

“listen, uh,” she turned her knees towards him, jaw open with a buffering conversation.

stiles wasn’t paying attention, but she didn’t notice. he was too busy watching scott, who was now talking to allison. and, then he saw derek power walking towards them.

“yeah, hey, um, could you send it in a text? i’ve gotta get somewhere. thanks for- that. yep!” stiles popped open the jeep door. he slid out, in a hurry, slamming the door shut before she could get another word in.

y/n sat there, for a moment, in utter shock. she took a deep, unsettled breath.

she needed to call danny.

–

“yeah, that’s fucking strange.”

y/n plopped onto her bed, rocking danny in his spot beside her. she took a hit from her cart, letting the smoke roll out as she replied with, “isn’t that fucking strange? like, it’s not that i expected we cuddle for twenty minutes and be all cutesy. but, the way he just rushed me out of there? that was weird.”

“maybe he’s pushing you cause he’s scared of having feelings for you,” danny tossed a ball of popcorn into his mouth, shrugging nonchalantly.

y/n rolled her eyes. she shifted onto her stomach, shoving her head into her pillow. “ugh,” she groaned, loudly. “you know, maybe i should end things right now. it’s gonna get complicated, i can already tell.“

“wait, okay,” danny pulled the pillow out from beneath her. she looked up at him. “let’s do a pro and con list before we make any rash decisions.“

“literally why?” y/n questioned.

danny waved her off, “cause it gives me entertainment. besides, it’ll be fun. now, give me a pro…”

she thought, tapped her chin as if it helped, “i think it’s helping me get over sam. i mean, i’ve stopped driving past his work. and i unfriended his mom on facebook. don’t think about him as much.”

danny clapped lightly, “aw, wait, yay. that’s such good news! best pro ever. okay, now, con.”

“um,” she hummed, “maybe…i don’t know. like, it’s complicated. like, it’s gonna be complicated.”

“yeah, but what’s complicated about it? nothing! so, one of you catches feelings- fuck it. you figure it out. i know another pro- the sex if fucking good. it’s making you feel good. you’ve got a goddamn glow about you, babe. you’re getting over bitch boy, you’re moving along. it’s not complicated.”

“i just,” y/n lay her head down again, “i’m just scared of getting hurt again, so soon. i feel like it would wreck me.”

“if you get hurt,” danny set his hand on her arm, “then, we’ll get through it, again. it’ll pass, it always does.“

she smiled up at her friend, only a little encouraged by his words. she still felt off. danny could tell by the distant look in her eyes. “but, you know, if you’re that worried- just end it. don’t continue. don’t put yourself in a situation where you think you could end up getting hurt.”

y/n didn’t know what to say. he was right, both sides of his argument were right. danny was the type of person to always be.

“you know what we should do?” y/n sat up, suddenly, the light bulb above her head aglow, “throw a party!”

danny laughed at her, leaning his head on his hand. “really? you are the last person i’d expect to want to throw a party.”

“i know, but- let’s do it! i wanna get fucked up and just chill out for a night.”

“you know,” danny pointed at her with a smug expression, “that’s the best idea you’ve had all year.”

#derek x stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles x lydia #stiles x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf x reader

250 notes · View notes

jujutsubaby · 2 months

Text

after hours (part 5)

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: after your wild night with toji, you're forced to return back to reality. and by reality, you mean geto and gojo's house party. you're so tired, but nothing a few shots won't fix :) wait, hold on, who's that girl gojo is all over? wait, are you...jealous? ☆ warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! implications of sex, moderate to heavy drinking, partying, jealousy, sexting, over the shirt action, kissing, y/n and other characters get high/drunk/crossed and horny lol ☆ tags: modernAU, academiaAU ☆ a/n: HAPPY VDAY BABES xx 💜🖤💜🖤 sorry it's been a while since i updated this series (i got my period and then had lots of werk to do but im BACK). hope u guys enjoy some gojo and reader sexual tension >:) also to the anon who sent the passive aggressive msg about me not updating after hours...hope ur happy now 😒 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

“morning, riko!” you greet the raven haired barista sleepily, “iced cappuccino with soy milk, please.”

“what…are you sure?” riko says, her face surprised. you always order your signature iced matcha latte with oat milk, unsweetened of course. riko knows it, every one knows it.

“yeahhh, i know. i just had a late night and then an early morning…” you groan. you won’t lie — you feel like you just got hit by a thousand trucks and your eyes are stinging (and probably red from the lack of sleep). “i’m bad at time management,” you confess sheepishly.

riko giggles. “not as bad as your friend trying to order a latte and pretending he likes it”. you sneak a glance at geto, who’s taking a sip of his americano and grimacing at the taste, which makes you smile at his lovesick gesture. “does he know we have other beverages?”

“ehh, i think he does but…he’s just trying to impress a very pretty girl who works here,” you say, trying your best to be obvious…but not too obvious that geto would be upset.

“oh my god, y/n! you know kuroi is happily engaged!” riko jokes, laughing lightly.

“oh darn, i have to break the bad news to suguru…he’s gonna be sooo upset,” you say sadly, pretending to wipe away a false tear dramatically, as riko rings you up for your order. just then, you think of something awful that suguru would definitely kill you for, but you’re already pretty bold for wearing the same outfit from last night that you got fucked in and showing up 30 minutes late to meet your friends, so fuck it.

“speaking of which, riko…are you doing anything tonight?”

“besides closing up…nope.” she answers.

“well, a bunch of us are going to the new barcade that opened up downtown this evening. i’m thinking around 9, think you can make it? you can tell suguru himself to lay off kuroi,” you joke jovially.

riko laughs heartily. “i’ll see you guys there”, she says, handing you your receipt, as you wave goodbye and head to your friends in the corner table. you try not to act flummoxed as you approach your friends, suddenly acutely aware of the how your hair was all over the place (why doesn’t toji own a hairbrush?) and that your jumpsuit was clearly wrinkled and that you hadn’t been able to take a shower yet. god, this was not your sexiest look.

“do they usually allow walk of shames in this cafe? i thought it this was a safe space?” satoru grins, already thinking of 30 ways to roast you for showing your face here after being 30 minutes late. he’s trying to push away any thoughts of you getting fucked by toji out of his head.

“shut up! i…i didn’t bring any extra clothes and i woke up late, okay!” you say, defending yourself earnestly.

“leave her alone, satoru,” suguru chastises, as he scoots down a chair to make room for you. “anyway, why were you talking to riko for such a long time? did she…say anything? it’s my haircut isn’t it? i just wanted to trim the bangs a little bit but they went sooo overboard and now-“

“oh my god suguru, chill!” shoko says, rolling her eyes. “he hasn’t been able to shut the fuck about riko and it’s so annoying that me and satoru are thinking of just asking her out on his behalf, at this point.” suguru tries hard to hide a blush before trying to deflect, but you interrupt them both.

“no need,” you say, turning to face suguru, “you can ask her yourself what we talked about…tonight. at the barcade.” you smile wide with your teeth and give suguru pleading eyes, hoping he won’t get upset with you for taking the liberty to speed run his first date with riko.

his face immediately is unreadable, and satoru elbows his ribs hard and hits his back. “congrats, pal! you finally have something to look forward to tonight that isn’t on your nintendo switch.”

“yeah. i mean…i d-don’t care. at all. i mean…good for her for coming. i don’t know if i’ll even be there but if i see her then i see her. no big deal…” suguru says, mostly to himself.

everyone at the table laughs, and you find your initial weariness of your extended walk of shame slowly melt away. you take a sip of your cappuccino, as utahime complains about how tired she is from playing animal crossing with shoko all night. you feel soft thinking about how utahime probably stayed up later than her usual early bedtime for shoko, knowing full well she has to wake up at 7am the next morning for both getting coffee and teaching her 1st period homeroom at the local high school. shoko has been recently trying to fix her sleep schedule from her night float rotation all junior residents had to do at the hospital their third year.

“also, before i forget, pre-game at ours at 7. we’re inviting nanami and haibara and some other people,” satoru says absentmindedly, his eyes focused on responding to a text on his phone before turning and facing you. “you’re still good on giving me a ride to lab today, right y/n?”

oh shit. “oh, umm, yeah, definitely still good with that.” you say quickly. you don’t exactly remember when you offered to give satoru a ride, but you assume it was one of the many times you tuned him out when he spoke. who’s satoru texting? the intrusive thought came out of nowhere, but you push the newfound irritation back where it came from.

satoru and you walk back to your car while you both lament about how awful this week’s lab has been. “i mean, why even give us a lab when we have a final in like less than a week?” you say exasperatedly, as you search for the keys to your cream white mini cooper and unlock it.

“speak for yourself, i finished that lab last week.” satoru boasts, grinning at your when you give him a confused look. “i’m only going to help the cute girls in class with their work.” he shrugs. what a slag.

“you’re a whore,” you scoff, slightly annoyed at satoru. so he has time to help some random cute girl in class but not his best friend. you buckle in, and take pleasure in watching satoru struggle to situate his legs inside your tiny cramped car. his knees are bent at awkward angles, and his head practically touches the roof of the car.

satoru groans loudly and dramatically. “you have the smallest fucking car in the world, y/n, y'know that?”

“fits me perfectly,” you say nonchalantly, as you back up and drive out to campus.

“well it baaareeelyyyy fits me,” he pouts, the sun visor bumping his head while he pulls it down.

“it’s not even that tight,” you assure him..

“it’s very tight, y/n. i can feel the walls squeezing me.”

“get over it.”

“oh, so it’s okay if toji says that to you but when i say it, it’s a fuckin’ problem?”

you practically choke on your saliva and swerve into the other lane upon hearing satoru’s comment. “h-how did you know…he said that to me?” you say incredulously. there’s no way he like…hacked your phone or something right? maybe you accidentally butt dialed shoko last night and they all heard you moan god knows what. the storm of thoughts in your head is interrupted by satoru’s laughter.

“i didn’t know he said that but now i do.” oh, god. you fell for it like a fucking idiot, y/n. you try to retort something back but you’re left speechless. actually you’re a bit impressed — satoru got that out of you masterfully, and you have to appreciate the tact (or perhaps lack thereof) he had. you try to be angry towards him, but it’s futile as you both start laughing.

“i hate you — stop making me laugh it’s not funny i need to focus on the road, idiot,” you say in between giggles. your eyes stay fixed on the road as you playfully flick satoru’s head (he lets you — your laughter makes his heart beat faster and he ignores it). satoru grabs your hand with his and starts rubbing your fingers together in an effort to warm them up.

“you’re hands are so cold all the time…” he murmurs. to him, it feels so natural to play with your hands, and you let him (his touch brings an undetectable heat to your face…and other parts of your body). you look steal quick glance over at him, and are overcome with a sudden and foreign shyness that instinctually forces you to retract your hand back to the wheel almost immediately. you clear your throat, before announcing to satoru that he was here.

satoru’s knees and joints crack as they are finally released from the prison of your mini cooper, and he dramatically lets out a sigh of relief. he gets out of the car and makes a show of stretching his long legs and arms. his collegiate basketball crewneck slides up, and you catch a glimpse of his toned abs and happy trail. you hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch before snapping out of the trance and rolling your eyes. “have fun harassing the cute girls in your class!” you say sarcastically, as he flips you off before heading to class.

during your drive back home, you don’t want to process the familiar feeling you felt last night when satoru texted you before you had sex with toji. the thoughts you had of him choking you and kissing your while toji played with your titties. oh god, you’re thinking about it again! stop it!

your neck aches from staring at your laptop screen for the last two hours as you try to make going out tonight worth it by studying extra for your final exam next week. your neck cracks loudly in all the right places and you head straight for a quick hot shower. you practically moan when the hot water hits your scalp, and allow the water to wash away all the stickiness of your complicated relationship with toji and satoru. tonight’s just for having fun and not doting on the future, you tell yourself, but not before taking a look at your soapy chest and thinking this is just the perfect picture for toji to see. you quickly snap a pic, promising yourself you won’t be one of those desperate girls toji always brings over to his house.

y/n: [1 Photo] hi :)

okay, you know you had just sent the photo to toji, but it did kind of break your heart that he didn’t immediately respond. okay, sure he’s a single dad so he might be busy…or he’s fucking some other girl. your heart drops slightly at the thought of him blowing some other unsuspecting girl’s back out, and the sadness quickly turns to annoyance. you’re better than this, y/n. who cares anyway — no one sucks dick like you do. you smirk. you definitely aren’t the type of girl who would hook up with anyone, but you know how to not sell your skills short. if toji was busy with his own life, well, so were you.

you hop out of the shower, checking your phone once again to see if toji had responded, only to be met with a text from satoru in the group chat:

satoru: [1 Photo] got the goods 😛

you open the photo to see him with a couple packs of white claws, and suguru in the background looking intently at two wine bottles in his hands. no way is satoru’s lightweight ass is gonna make through even one can before getting sloshed, you think to yourself.

shoko: what’s sugu doing?

satoru: deciding on what wine to get for riko lmfao

you can’t help but smile at how cute suguru was, being so nervous for something that wasn’t even a formal first date.

y/n: awww 🥹 get the rosé bby

shoko: y/n if ur ass isn’t ready in 10 mins i s2g i’m gonna leave without u

you scrunch your nose and throw your phone on the bed — if you really hurry you could easily be out your door in fifteen. after thinking for five minutes, you decide on a classic little black skirt with a slit on the side paired with a lace cropped bralette (that honestly really did wonders to your boobs). you wore an oversized leather button down shirt, sheer black tights, and a pair of black gogo boots. you quickly fixed up your hair, figuring that “wet” look was already trendy anyway. after applying your makeup at the speed of light (you went for a subtle yet sultry neutral look), you grab your little purse and sprint out your room, and see that shoko was staying true to her word, as she was just about to head out the door. she sees you, stops, and grins.

“you barely made it,” she teases, as she holds the door open for you.

“you bitch.” you respond, rolling your eyes. “is utahime meeting us there?”

“yes she’s already there,” shoko says, not looking up from her phone as she calls an uber. so that’s why she’s been dying to get out of the house so impatiently.

as both of you get into the uber, shoko pulls out two gummies from her purse and offers one to you. “pregame the pregame?” she says, and you both start giggling as you pop the gummy in your mouth. it’s probably not going to hit for a while, which leaves you plenty of time to get there and say your greetings to nanami and haibara before you get extremely crossed. you check your phone one last time, only to be met with no texts from toji.

“thanks for the ride!”, shoko yells out as the uber driver speeds away.

“umm, i’ve never been to oovoo javer…”, you say through giggles uncontrollably. oh, fuck. this must’ve been one of those fast acting gummies. shoko must have been feeling the effects too because she starts laughing noiselessly and you both are doubling over outside of satoru and suguru’s apartment, grabbing each other for support so you both don’t fall from how much you both are laughing.

the door of the boys’ apartment flies open and it’s some couple open mouth kissing each other, stumbling their way out of the confines of the living room rager that lied ahead for both of you. you and shoko both bit back another giggling fit before stepping in. suddenly, two arms engulfed both of you in a strong yet familiar bear hug.

“himeee~” you hear shoko greet cheerfully.

utahime hiccups, already a bit tipsy. she pouts jokingly before shoko kisses her cheek and you squeeze her torso back in another bear hug. “you bitches are awful for leaving me with dumb and dumber…” she says, punctuating her words with hiccups.

“i’m sorry, 'hime. let’s grab a drink. i also packed you a joint,” shoko apologizes before utahime drags the both of you to the kitchen for a drink. in the kitchen, you find nanami slouching against the fridge, looking annoyed as ever, and haibara animatedly talking to some lower class men. haibara locks eyes with you and immediately turns and embraces you in a warm hug, while nanami manages a shoddy wave.

"ahhh my favorite little babiessss~" you squeal, pulling both guys closers to you and giving them a strong hug. you always get very touchy and sentimental when under the influence. "i haven't seen you guys in sooooo long!"

"please let go, y/n." nanami says calmly, but not before briefly squeezing you back for what felt like half a second. wait a minute -- what the hell is nanami doing here? he never comes to these things.

"wait why are you he-"

"save it," nanami interrupts, running his fingers through his hair. "i'm only here because i wanted a referral to the lab gojo works at, and he said yes but that i needed to come over this evening so he could ask me some questions regarding the referral application."

"oh, yeah! what questions did he want to ask you?" haibara asks quizzically.

nanami takes an even deeper sigh. "i showed up and he asked if i wanted to take a shot and when i sad 'no just ask me what you need for the referral', he was like 'that's the question, do you want a shot?' and that's how i got fucking tricked into coming to this godforsaken rager." nanami seems truly miserable having fallen for satoru's scheme so easily. "anyway...given the circumstances, i did take a shot..." he groans, slowly sliding down the fridge onto the kitchen floor.

you and haibara laugh, and utahime hands you a white claw. you open the chilled can, and take a sip, your hazy state of mind helping you not feel the slight burning in the back of your throat.

"speaking of that idiot, where is he?" you ask, your eyes scanning the room for his bright white hair. you frown not seeing him anywhere, but your face quickly relaxes when you see suguru and riko heading to you and your friends. oh nice, suguru finally managed to ask riko to come to the pregame, too.

"hey riko!" shoko greets, "didn't expect to see you here..." she teases.

riko giggles and take a sip of her wine. "i couldn't say no to seeing my favorite customers!" she steals a quick glance up at suguru and you swear you see him blush. "also, this wine suguru picked out is amazing! how did you know i love rosé?"

you bite back a smile, making quick eye contact with suguru. "oh...lucky guess..." he shrugs, playing it off nonchalantly.

"oh by the way, i got a joint for us to share," shoko says, pulling it out of her bag. "anyone interested in puff puff passing?" she asks, already holding utahime's hand and heading to the balcony. suguru and riko follow suit, and you quickly bid nanami and haibara farewell.

as you turn around, you bump into the man you've been looking for, wearing the same basketball collegiate crewneck, white hair disheveled, and a drunken flush to his face.

you don't even get to say hello to satoru as he lifts you up in a giant hug that encompasses you and spins you around, making you squeal. you can't help but wrap your legs around him, knowing full well you probably shouldn't since your skirt was not long enough for it, but you needed to feel the warmth and comfort of his body around yours. you always got a bit too touchy feely when you were under the influence...

"eeep satoru~ put me down!"

"nope, missed ya", he mumbes into your hair. oh, he's definitely drunk right now. sober satoru would never openly admit something like that and it makes you giggle.

"please~ my skirt is too short for this ahh~" you plead, unwrapping your legs from his torso, all of sudden feeling embarrassed through the warm haze engulfing your body. satoru finally puts you down and shamelessly eyes you up and down while taking large sips of his beer.

"that skirt can definitely be shorter," he says cheekily, his blue eyes filled with drunken mischief. you roll your eyes dramatically and also take a sip of your claw.

"you're drunk, satoru..."

"and you need to get drunker!" he yells, already grabbing you a shot glass and pouring some of rankest shit you've ever smelled. the music starts pounding louder, and you need to raise your voice even higher to make sure he hears you.

"aren't you gonna take one with me?" you shout.

"y'know i'm a fuckin' lightweight, baby~" he frowns, handing you the shot, a little bit spilling with his sloppy actions.

you scrunch your nose at the strong stench. "i'm a bit stoned though so only one, okay?" you say to him. you close your eyes, hold your breath, and down it. your eyes water and you have to prevent yourself from dry heaving as you immediately grab the nearest can of cola on the table and chug it as a chaser.

"wooow, you're such a baby," satoru jeers, thinking about how you've always needed a non-alcoholic drink to wash down your alcohol. you're not a heavy drinker by any means -- not even a moderate drinker. as as a social drinker, you always feel the need to try to at least sort of keep up with your friends when they drink the rankest and cheapest liquor. thank god satoru has always been a lightweight.

"shut up~" you say, rolling your eyes. you grab satoru's arm and pull him closer to the balcony where all your friends are. he slides his arm down so that you're holding his hands. your heart beats faster, knowing full well your vices always made you...hornier than usual. you're trying really hard to not look back at satoru, but you steal a glance anyway. his flush face and tired eyes are all of a sudden looking really attractive to you. your eyes slide down and look at his hands, the shape of his long calloused fingers gripping your hand and you can't help but imagine how they would feel pumping inside you. oh god, was he always this attractive? ugh! why can't toji just message you back so you can just go over to his place instead of having to lust over your best friend?!

you both enter the balcony, and the cool yet humid evening air hits your face, allowing you to finally breath something that wasn't beer and sweat. that is, until the stench of weed hits your nose.

"ugh, this shit's gross! i dunno how you guys can fuckin' stand the smell," satoru complains, dramatically making a gagging face.

"and you call me a baby?!" you snort, still trying to not be obnoxiously flirtatious throughout the night to satoru. you cannot let the horniness win tonight. god, what's gotten in you? you're never this...desperate? it's satoru's fault because he's looking so good tonight, you tell yourself. you pass on the joint, and try to focus on the conversation at hand, but it's hard when satoru puts his arms around you and pulls your closer to his chest.

almost instinctively, you melt into his chest, allowing yourself to feel his warmth and focus on his breathing chest. you smell the beer from his mouth as he laughs at something suguru said and you giggle too so people can know you're sort of paying attention.

you're a perfect mix of drunk and high, and you're feeling blissful being out on this balcony with your best friends, albeit minus the thoughts of how good satoru was looking tonight. is it even that wrong to think that your friend looks hot? you're not being delusional right?

"suguru is definitely being a comedian tonight for riko, isn't he?" you tiptoe up to satoru and whipser into his ear, thinking you're being subtle. unfortunately for you (and suguru), the loud music isn't being carried out to the balcony, and everyone hears you, and starts laughing. oh shit. you immediately pan over to suguru and see him pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"oh my god, suguru i- riko, i'm obviously joking!" you say really fast, slurring through your words as the shot finally is taking effect into your body. "obviously, suguru is the funniest person i know!"

"second funniest but i'm letting suguru tell all the jokes tonight. he needs this more than i do." satoru smiles brightly, looking at his best mate and making a kissy face at him.

"okay, riko, we are actually. um. we are leaving. and going to my room or the living room or literally anywhere else but here," suguru says, abruptly standing and helping riko up.

"wait what no, i wanna hear more about this-" she starts to tease, but ends up laughing.

"you're taking her to your room?!" shoko teases, raising her eyebrows comically. utahime chokes on the joint and starts laughing coughing and you do too, before you immediately stop. you cannot get on suguru's nerves tonight, as you know that'll make him too in his head to actually focus on having a fun time with riko.

you lift your body weight off of satoru and make way for suguru to leave. satoru side steps in front of suguru and pulls him into a hug, to which he scowls and tries to break free of. "mate, we LOVE you. i love you. and y/n loves you. and i'm going to absolutely obliterate you at street fighter at the barcade tonight." satoru slurs through his words and you almost feel bad for riko for having to deal with you and your friends.

you give a sympathetic look to riko as she trails behind suguru, patting his back softly and giggling. you're about to whisper a quick sorry to her, but she takes you by surprise by whispering "i hope i get obliterated by him tonight."

your jaw drops and you could almost cry laughing at what riko just said. i mean, okay, yeah it makes sense, and good for her but oh my god? i didn't know she had that in her?, you think to yourself.

"queen, i hope it happens. i'm for real manifesting this for you," you whisper back quickly and she sips her wine and giggles and follows suguru out of the balcony.

you turn around incredulously to shoko and utahime and look up satoru, all of them completely in shock at what they heard. there's a moment of silence to process before the intrusive thoughts win in your head. "honestly, i hope i get obliterated tonight, too."

shoko groans. "shut the fuck. up! you literally got obliterated last night! can you be normal about physical touch for just one night?"

"i can't, shoko, you know i get horny when i'm crossed~" you whine, your doe eyes getting wider in desperation. oh cool, you're off the deep end now. you're just fully horny and admitting it in front of satoru who will, at the very least, use this as incriminating evidence tomorrow.

"i can help with that," satoru flirts brazenly through the alcohol in his system, bringing you closer to him and holding you tight.

"desperation is such a turn off," utahime says almost immediately.

you giggle as you melt into satoru's chest once more. "what's going on, toji not treatin' ya right?"

your body almost instantaneously goes rigid upon hearing his name, and your senses almost clear up. you whip your phone of your purse, completely ignoring satoru's question and check your messages to see if you got a notification from toji, only to see nothing. you groan and rub your temples in stress. "okay guys, gather around. this is an emergency," you say as everyone huddles closer to you.

"it's not an emergency, FYI", shoko clarifies, already having heard this story in the uber ride here.

you explain to utahime and satoru about how toji had not responded to your explicit picture since this afternoon, and how you're feeling stupid and insecure about it. "i mean, is there something wrong with me? did i cross a line? how can you ignore the same titties you sucked on less than 24 hours ago?" you say frustratingly, the alcohol once again allowing you to give way more detail than you normally would.

"you see, it's a bit hard for me to, like, understand exactly what the situation is. i think i need to see the picture you sent him to really understand and help you out, y/n." satoru says with dead seriousness as he locks his eyes with you.

"oh yeah of course!" you say as you unlock your phone and are about to show him before shoko grabs your phone away and utahime flicks his forehead.

"you nasty disgusting pervert..." she mumbles, shaking her head.

"she was literally about to show me~" he whines. "i was asking as a friend, a homie."

"okay, listen y/n. he's probably busy. he's literally a single dad, and maybe he's busy with megumi. maybe he's trying to find a real job besides being a gigolo, we don't know but it's lame to dwell on it. let's just finish up this joint and head to the barcade soon, okay?" shoko assures, holding your hand as utahime puts your phone back in your purse. god, you love them so much it hurts.

you nod your head rapidly, as satoru gets a chime on his phone.

"ohhh, shit!" he exclaims, "this girl i helped today during lab is here. and she might actually show me her titties unlike you guys, so...i'm gonna leave."

you roll your eyes in even more annoyance. great, now satoru is gonna be hanging out some random airhead while you're left to your own vices for the rest of the night? you really don't want to spend the night waiting for toji to text, and you don't care to particularly ask satoru for help. but it does make you even more desperate knowing that you're still pretty drunk and everyone in your friend group seems to be getting laid tonight except for you. maybe you can find someone cute in the barcade?

as you all bid satoru goodbye, you continue to enjoy a couple more minutes with shoko and utahime while they finish smoking the joint. once it's finished, you all are ready to head out.

"okay, you get satoru, and we'll get suguru and riko," utahime instructs. that's so high school teacher of her, you think and bite back a smile.

"who's gonna kick everyone out of this...pregame house party thing?" you ask, gesturing to the 20 or so people getting progressively more drunk and sweaty in the boys' living room and kitchen.

"suguru will handle it, not our problem," utahime says, lighting out the joint into the nearest succulent pot in the balcony. she grabs shoko's hand and leads her out of the balcony, and you follow suit.

your nose is once again met with the stench of beer and sweat, and you make a face. your eyes scan the room full of party goers for satoru, as it shouldn't be hard to find the tallest person in the room with the brightest hair, but with no luck. ugh, he's probably somewhere in the rest of the apartment with that girl, you think, not looking forward to meeting some random slag satoru was probably going to sleep with.

as you made your way through the living room to the hallway to the boys' room and bathroom, trying your best to avoid the damp sweaty skins of people and sticky floors, you realize you need to pee really badly. you shove your way to the empty hallway and quickly down the rest of your white claw before beelining to the restroom at the end of the hallway.

as you're nearing the corner turn, you hear...oh god, are you hearing? moans? of course, someone is bound to hook up at this trashy party and make you feel even worse for being so drunk and horny and having no one tonight. that's okay though, you have a plan: you'll do your best not to make eye contact to the couple just turn right into the bathroom. just as you're about to execute this plan and turn the corner, you hear them moan, "o-oh satoru~" and your head immediately whips to the direction of the person who made the offensive noise.

you're not sure what you feel and you think you feel many things, including but not limited to: disgust, hostility, annoyance and...jealousy? wait, no, that can't be right.

your eyes widen and your jaw drops and you scoff as you see satoru french kissing some floozy outside his room, his hands up her shirt feeling her titties. wait, are you jealous or turned on? wait, what's happening?

satoru hears your scoff and rapidly removes his hands from the girl's shirt and stops kissing her to look at your bewildered and exasperated face. you give him a look that says "are you serious?" before you chuck your empty white claw can at him (he deftly dodges it) and shout, "get a room! but also get ready, you horndog, we're leaving to the barcade!"

you don't wait to hear an answer as you immediately slip into the bathroom and lock the door. god what was that? okay, let's break this down, you think to yourself, desperately scrambling to get your intoxicated thoughts in order. your head is slightly spinning and you lean on the bathroom sink for support as you try to sort out why you're feeling your chest drop in what you can only identify as jealousy. no, you're not jealous because you're in love with satoru, you're jealous because it just doesn't make sense.

if satoru is gonna fuck around with anyone tonight, it might as well be you, right? it's just rude, like as a friend, to kiss someone else who's not your friend when your friend is really horny, right? god, are your inebriated thoughts even making sense?

you try to snap out of delirium by turning on the faucet and drinking some water, trying to sober yourself down. or maybe you actually need to just get another drink? maybe you just need to find some cute guy to buy you a drink at the bar later and you'll snap out of it.

actually, maybe toji should just fucking text you back so you can go crawling to him at the end of the night so he can obliterate your pussy. you fish your phone out of your purse only to be met with no notifications from toji. you click on the message between you and toji, and start to draft out some lewd and lecherous texts to him. you thankfully, you don't have time to contemplate your actions or hit send before you hear the music die and people groaning.

you hear suguru yelling at everyone to get the fuck out and either go home or to the barcade, and you hear satoru start singing closing time, slurring the lyrics. this is the guy you're jealous about? this is the fella you want to lowkey fuck?

you pray that either a) toji messages you back or b) you find a nice non-creepy guy at the bar who's willing to at least make out with you, or 3) you instantly get sober after peeing.

only time will tell.

102 notes · View notes

prettyboyeddiemunson · 2 years

Note

omg vampire!eating eating u out on ur period because 1) he knows how much better/more intense orgasms r when ur on ur period 2) even as a vampire he still loves giving head 3) he just wants to eat ur blood 😭

OH FUCK YEAH

your period is his favorite time ever. like he can smell it on you before it starts, because your blood has a different scent a few days before. he can also hear it in your thoughts, because you’re going over what you need to get done before it begins, or just dreading the cramps that will come along with it. he hates that you have to suffer so greatly with pain, and wants to do anything he can to help you. he’s a gentleman with you—taking care of you, getting your favorite snacks or things in general for you, letting you sleep on his chest as he watches you, cuddling you, drawing you a bath, rubbing your stomach, anything you want.

but he’s also a goddamn beast, because you’re basically free-bleeding for several days, and the smell is going to overwhelm him.

so what does he propose as a solution to your discomfort? period sex, obviously! at first, you feel a little shy and self-conscious about the idea; after all, wouldn’t that be really messy and maybe not the best course of action because of how gross it could be? but of course, your boyfriend is a fucking vampire now; it makes sense that he would want to do something like that. you decide to give a shot, because what could honestly be so bad about it? he was on board, it would be something new, and you may end up enjoying yourself.

and dear god, are you fucking glad that you gave it a chance.

he goes down on you, right? your pussy is always far more sensitive during your period, so even the lightest little traces with his tongue are going to set you on fucking fire. believe me, this man is going to tease. he wants nothing more than to dive right in and devour you, but he also wants to prolong it, because he’s a smug fucker. the tip of his tongue gathering blood, dragging it from your entrance to just below your clit with a hum. you’re mewling, hissing at the contact, his hands in a vice-grip on your thighs. in fact, he’s holding you so hard that there will definitely be a litter of bruises, or at least sore spots where his tips dug in. his hair is in his face, his red-tinted eyes on you as he reads your mind. he can see in your head that you’re getting impatient, and that only makes him tease even harder. maybe the tip of his tongue ghosts your clit, or perhaps his fingers pull your inner lips apart so that he can drag his tongue through every little crevice not accessible before. no matter what his method, he is going to enjoy teasing you, and savor in the scent of both your period and the blood pumping through your body. he’s going to go into a frenzy from all the different sensations, and that is when he’s going to absolutely devour the shit out of you.

if you thought he was amazing at eating pussy as a human, on just any normal day? fucking god, no. this is a whole new level. the first full taste of your blood mixed with your cum, and he’s off to the goddamn races. to him, that is the best taste in the whole damn world, and he cannot get enough already. two of his fingers keep your lips apart, his mouth pressing wherever it can reach, his tongue lapping at every last inch of your blood-soaked folds. when he moves those fingers back to your thighs, they are still covered in blood, smearing crimson all over your skin as he starts to eat you out vigorously. his eyes are rolling back at the taste as he moans around your cunt, and the vibration of it nearly makes you cum already.

and the image? oh man. like his dark hair will be a mess all around his head, brushing against your thighs as he eats your pussy. his brown eyes tinted red, gazing at you as his mouth does its work. blood appearing all over his lower face as he draws back to look at you or tease your inner thighs, and some of it even gets in his long hair. he won’t stop moaning or talking about how good you taste, about how he just wants to just fuck the shit out of you when he’s finished.

speaking of, this man would jerk off as he eats you out like this, no question. he’s going to gather some of your period on his fingers, wiping it across his cock before beginning to touch himself. it isn’t only your blood flowing into his mouth that’s got him so worked up; it’s the filthy memories & fantasies of the two of you in your head, ones that he can see in his own mind as clear as day. touching himself only aids in his pleasure, and you can hear the sounds of him beating his cock, along with his groans & the wet sounds of him eating your cunt. he shakes his head back & forth quickly, and he can do it much faster now with his superhuman speed. he might even finger you with his free hand, and that’s a lot faster & harder than before, too. all of that combined—the overwhelming sensitivity from your period, the way he was eating you out, the way he was jerking himself off to you—sends you into an intense, toe curling, mindblowing orgasm.

but we know eddie. he isn’t going to stop just because you came, and that’s going to ring especially true now. you’re not done until both of his hands are completely red, until his face is drenched in blood & cum, and until the sheets are an absolute fucking mess. then, and only then, are you getting your shit absolutely wrecked.

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #vampire eddie munson

2K notes · View notes

rubyreduji · 8 months

Note

HI JJ!!!!!!!!!!!! HAPPY 3K!!!!!! im sorry it took so long to send an ask <\3 BUT I WAS WONDERING 💭 if i could req a short bff!vernon fluff drabble? where he’s kinda nervous about confessing or something silly like that 😅 it literally can be a short 200 word scene, idc!!! I LAUV U SAUR MUCH AND U DESERVE EVERYTHING GOOD!! im so proud of u, ur so wonderful <33333

— sleepover event now over!! 🧸️

summary: vernon knows you two will be best friends no matter what, so why is it so hard to tell you he likes you?

tags: fluff, best friend!au, gn reader wc: 1.4k an: hi star sar thank you for the request this is so cute :((( (also a great break from smut adjskla) ily. side note why is this man so hard to find photos for

Vernon doesn’t think he’s ever sweat this much in his life.

His whole body is hot as his heartbeat quickens in his chest, the rumbling of the organ banging against his ribcage deafening in his ears. His hands shake as he glances at you across the table.

You look cute today, but then again you look cute everyday. You did your hair up for today and even slid some rings on your fingers before leaving your house. You look over and notice Vernon staring so you shoot him a smile. It takes Vernon a second too long to process this and smile back.

Shit, he has got to calm down. If nothing else but to stop sweating, because it is not an attractive look on him.

“Nonie,” you say, startling him slightly. “You’ve barely touched your ice cream.” You nod at the cup of chocolate ice cream melting in front of him, only a few bites taken out of it. You on the other hand have half of your cone gone.

“Oh,” Vernon mutters, staring down at the bowl as well. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? You’re the one who paid.” You take another lick of your cone. “What’s wrong? You’ve been off since I picked you up.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Vernon lies, his voice cracking a bit in the middle. You narrow your eyes at him before flicking your eyes to his ears.

“You’re lying,” you say matter of factly. “Your ears only get red when you’re lying. Or when you’re nervous.”

Vernon doesn’t want to tell you he’s both nervous and lying, so he instead lies even more. “You’re right, sorry. I think my stomach is just upsetting me a bit. I ate something weird for lunch.” It’s really only half a lie, because his stomach is in complete knots right now, you just don’t need to know why.

Well, you do. That’s the whole point of this outing. But Vernon can’t tell you just yet, not like this.

“Oh no,” you frown at Vernon, deeming him to be sincere enough. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“No!” Vernon shouts, causing a few glares to be shot his way from the other ice cream parlor tenants. You also stare at him curiously. “Sorry I just, no, I’ll be okay. I want to spend time with you.”

You laugh easily, the light sound gliding through the air and forcing Vernon’s heart to clench. “We see each other every day.”

“That’s different,” Vernon says, ducking his head. “This is just us, without any obligations or other people to bother us.”

In Vernon’s opinion you’re too popular, too many people vying for your attention, him included. That’s why he does his best to spend time with you like this, doing whatever you want to do, because all that matters to Vernon is being able to be with you, your full attention on him.

“I do agree it’s nice when it’s just us,” you say, smiling at your best friend. “How about this? I’ll finish my ice cream and then we can go walk around the shops, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Vernon says.

It doesn’t take long for you to finish your ice cream, and even though Vernon is anti-food waste, his stomach absolutely would not be able to keep the sugary confection down even if he tried. As soon as you step out of the ice cream parlor your hand finds Vernon’s, grasping at him to tug him along with you.

Though the act of holding hands isn’t new to you two, the feel of your warm hand against his still makes Vernon’s mouth go dry. He can’t focus on what you’re saying to him, too busy trying to figure out if you can feel how clammy his hand is.

Even if you can feel it, you don’t mention it, pulling Vernon along as you ramble on about life and things you see in the shop windows and how the weather is just perfect today for being outside. The whole time Vernon makes small comments, letting you know he’s listening. Every so often he steals glances at you, watching as your face lights up as you talk about whatever topic comes to your mind. The sun glows against your skin, like it was made to shine for you, but maybe Vernon’s just a bit biased.

Vernon isn’t sure when he fell in love with you, but isn’t that how it always is?

You two have been best friends for years now, after an unassigned assigned seat stealing incident in the 10th grade. It wasn’t instantaneous, you two shared some mutual friends and would hang out casually after class, and then before Vernon knew it you two were together nearly every day of the week. You two would go shopping on weekends or go to each other’s houses to study on school nights. You two unknowingly integrated so seamlessly into each other’s lives to the point where his mother calls you “hun” and your father calls him “son”.

Going off to college didn’t change that, and now you two are living in the same city once again, pursuing your dreams together. And somewhere in all of that Vernon just…happened to fall in love with you. Somewhere between late night grocery trips and early morning sunrise watching and crying through final exams and cuddling during movie nights and taking pottery classes because you think it’ll be fun and yeah, Vernon really should have seen this coming.

He knows it’s cliche, but he isn’t that upset about it, because now he gets to be in love with you, his favorite person in the world. The only issue now is telling you that. The thing that’s been bothering him the whole day.

In reality, even if you don’t reciprocate him back, it’s not going to change anything. Vernon knows you two will stay best friends and will continue to hold hands while walking through stores and eat burgers together at two am, but maybe that’s what scares Vernon the most. The idea that you won’t like him back and he will never be able to get over you because how could he when you let him lay his head on your lap while late night talking or when you invite him over to dinner just to make sure he’s actually eating something that’s not chewy noodles and burnt toast.

He can’t not tell you though, because what if you do like him back, and it’s perfect and amazing and Vernon gets his happily ever after. So he has to tell you.

You’re looking at something in a window of an antique shop when Vernon starts to feel that suffocating feeling again, the sun suddenly becoming a bit too hot as his heart starts to race in his chest. He wants to spend everyday with you like this. He wants to call you his and you to call him yours.

“Vernon?” You’re his best friend. “Are you okay?” What if something bad happens? “Hey!” What if something good happens?

“I LIKE YOU!” Vernon shouts, the words spilling from his lips like he physically can’t keep them in anymore. His breathing stills as he stares at you, the only sound he hears being the hammering of his heart trying to escape his chest.

You start to giggle, your face lighting up in glee as you smack his shoulder. “You’re a dumbass, you know that? That’s what’s been stressing you out all day?” Vernon can only nod slightly. “I like you too, stupid. I thought you knew that.”

Like a weight being lifted off Vernon’s chest, he can finally breathe again. “How was I supposed to know that?!”

“You’re my best friend, I thought we knew everything about each other. I certainly knew you liked me.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Vernon whines.

“Why didn’t you?” You shoot back.

“I just did!” Vernon counters and you start to giggle once more. You tug at Vernon’s hand, pulling him closer to you to lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek. Vernon feels his face heat up.

“And I’m glad you did.”

“But that means you have to plan the first date,” Vernon tells you. You gasp.

“That is not what that means! You confessed first, so you plan the date.”

“Like you don’t have a million date ideas already planned out,” Vernon retorts and you huff.

“Fine, I’ll plan the first date, but I better now hear any complaints.”

Vernon just grins and wraps his arms around you. “If it’s you? There’s nothing in the world I could complain about.”

It’s your turn to become flustered, sputtering out a “whatever.”

Vernon laughs and presses a kiss to your head. Of course he had nothing to worry about, after all, it’s you.

taglist: @ckline35 @toruro @jeanjacketjesus @namjoonbaby @n4mj00nvq @lovelyhan @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @im-gemmy @lllucere @tulipgarland4 @embrace-themagic @sulkygyu @leejihoonownsmyheart @synthetickitsune @yeosayang @miraclewoozi @d0nghyck @soonhoonietrash @violetvoo @yongi-lee @spilled-coffee-cup @morklee02 @17kwans @candidupped @ressonancee @m1nghaos @1-800-jeonwonwoo @anothershorthuman @chwecardcaptor @dinoissupreme @speaknowlwt @jwnghyuns @flwrshwa @valentxi @heavenly-mobo @pandorashbox @enhacolor @starlight-night0 @todorokiskitten @miriamxsworld @just-here-to-read-01 @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @seuomo @tinkerbell460 @feat-sun @1694 @strawberri-uyu @ryuwonieebae

join my taglist: here!

#hansol vernon chwe #vernon #vernon fluff #vernon fanfic #vernon x reader #vernon x gn reader #gn reader #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #rru.fics #rru.requests #rru.moots #sar!!#★ sfw #rru.writes

205 notes · View notes

crappymixtape · 1 year

Text

eyes half shut

hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington? | ( 3.9k – a little angst, a little fluff, kinda enemies to kinda lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

E Y E S H A L F S H U T 🎶 dream boy, savannah conley

“Now, please don’t be late, Steven. Jason’s done with his shift right at seven and we don’t want to keep people waiting.” Miss Click tapped on the clipboard in her hand before hanging it back up on the nail hammered into the wall of the booth, “Robin Buckley volunteered to cover the cash register for your shift too! You remember Robin.”

Steve felt his jaw tick with irritation as he tried to hide the grimace on his face, his old History teacher practically beaming at the very mention of his friend. Of course Robin volunteered to run the register. She just wanted a front row seat for what was sure to be the most humiliating night of his life.

“Great. Robin Buckley. A real grade A student,” he said with a forced smile, jamming his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s.

“I thought so too! Such an attentive pupil,” Miss Click agreed before checking her watch. “Oh dear, I need to go check on the cake walk. I’ll see you back here in a few hours, I’m sure we’ll have record donations!” and with that she was off across the football field leaving Steve alone in the small booth to freak out about what he’d just agreed to.

A kissing booth. Great. Perfect. Totally fine.

He definitely wasn’t sore about Tommy getting to run the alumni basketball game instead of him. Wasn’t stressing the fuck out about the idea of having to kiss people for an hour straight. Or worse, kiss no one at all and have to live under a rock for the rest of his life and he totally wasn't going to kill Robin for ‘graciously volunteering’ to take money at his expense.

Loosing a sigh from his chest Steve ran his hands through his hair and kicked at the frame of the wall, KISSING BOOTH written above him. All curly letters and lipstick marks and bright red paint, taunting and teasing him about what would be happening in a few short hours.

It was going to be fine. Totally fine. Steve Harrington could handle a few smooches for charity. Right?

Right?

Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you? You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two. I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you.

Joan Jett was yelling through the speakers of your stereo as you leaned over your dresser, swiping mascara through your lashes in the mirror, trying your best to hurry up and get ready for the Hawkins High Jamboree.

Did you want to go? Absolutely not.

Was your room mate and best friend making you go with her? 100%.

“So, like, are you gonna be ready this century or should I plan on arriving in a coffin? Actually. Steve’s gonna probably put me in one anyway, might be doing him a favor,” Robin mused around her toothbrush from across the hall in the bathroom.

“Hah, are you kidding? That guy came out of the womb as a fully formed show boat. He loves shit like this,” you shot back, shaking your head at the thought of Steve posted up at the kissing booth. A stupid, shit-eating grin pasted on his face. Signature hair all perfectly coiffed. A ridiculously long line of girls just waiting to fawn over him.

“Can’t argue you on the show boat bit, but he’s still totally gonna kill me,” Robin said snorting as she spat her toothpaste into the sink.

You weren’t sure what had happened between senior year and now, but somehow your best friend had also become Steve Harrington’s best friend and it made absolutely no sense.

At first you’d been extremely skeptical, even overprotective of her, and made it a point to tag along with them where ever they were going to make sure he wasn’t going to do something shitty, but much to your chagrin he proved you wrong every single time. He was even nice and somehow made Robin ugly laugh more than you did. How dare he?

“C’mon, I don’t wanna keep Nance waiting, she’s gonna be downstairs soon,” Robin popped her head in through your door and you shot her a grin.

“Ooo, eyeliner. Are you two going out after?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at her and she frowned, cheeks flushed.

“Yeah. Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing!” you held your hands up in surrender and gave her a little smile, “Just–it’s about damn time. You two have been dancing around each other for months.”

Robin was pretty private about her love life, especially after things hadn’t worked out with Vickie, and you were one of the only ones who really got to be in the know. Well. You and Steve, but you had to hand it to him. He at least seemed pretty damn empathetic and supportive in that regard toward Robin and you were thankful to him for it.

“What, are you keeping track?” Robin grumbled, smoothing her shirt down a bit and picking at the chipped black polish on her nails.

“You’re the one with the scoreboard,” you gently teased back, shoving your feet into the Chucks next to your dresser, but then your expression softened as you looked up at her, “You know I’m not. I’d be one to talk anyway, my love life is non-existent.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe you should try. It’s not all bad. Look at me, put myself out there and already have a date,” she said pointedly, scrunching up her nose at you.

“No, thanks,” it was your turn to grumble and you shouldered past her into the hallway.

“Wait. Wait a second. Yes. Yes, thanks!” she said, tone suddenly shifting into the one where you knew she was up to no good.

“Robs, whatever you’re about to say? Don’t,” you grabbed your wallet and chapstick off the kitchen table and turned to fix her with a look. The way she was grinning at you was horrifying. “Oh my god. What?”

“Kiss him,” she said simply and you looked at her blankly.

“What?”

“Put yourself out there! Kiss him!” she said again more enthusiastically and your stomach flipped over.

“Steve? Oh, wow. Let me go ahead and put a ‘hell’ in front of my no. No, Robs. No way,” you crammed your things into your pockets and shook your head, opening the fridge to try and find a beer. Booze suddenly felt very, extremely, necessary.

“Seriously! C’mon! What, are you chicken?” she make a little squawking noise as you cracked open the last beer hiding at the back of the fridge.

“Seriously?” you parroted back, “What, are you twelve? No, I’m not doing it.” You took a long drink from the can in your hand and grimaced as the carbonation fizzed in your nose. Too much.

“If you do, I’ll leave you alone for a whole week,” Robin’s tone was sing-songy, dragging out the vowels as she leaned on the open fridge door and smiled at you all sweetly. Full of mischief.

You waited, took another drink of beer and narrowed your eyes at her. She’d been begging you to go on a double date with her and Nancy and the thought of it made you want to throw up. Not only were double dates super cringy, but one: you didn’t have a boyfriend and two: Robin always suggested Steve and you’d immediately have to shut it down. He was absolutely not your type and there was no way you’d make it more than thirty minutes.

“Two weeks,” you countered, “And if you’re gonna hang out with him it can’t be here.”

“Deal!” she said much too quickly, sticking her hand out to you and you frowned, taking it and shaking it aggressively.

“Great. Deal.” It was just a kiss, right? Not stupid Seven Minutes in Heaven or Spin the Bottle, just cramming a dollar into a jar and a quick peck on the lips and you’d be free from Robin’s meddling for two whole weeks. Worth it.

Buzzzzz.

Someone was at the door, a Nancy Wheeler shaped someone, and the color drained from Robin’s face.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re fine, you look great,” you took another drink of your beer and then offered the last half of it to Robin who finished it off in one go.

“It’s not—“ Robin burped, beer was a bad choice, “—too much?”

“No, it’s not too much. The eyeliner is nice, really brings out the black in your heart. Now let’s get go,” you grabbed the empty can from her hand and tossed it in the recycling before shoving her toward the door.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna kiss Steve,” she said, grin tugging at the corners of her lips and your expression soured.

“Oh my god, just go,” and despite your grumbling, despite insisting on your irritation, all you could think about the entire ride over was a sliver of a memory from last summer.

It was smack in the middle of July. Sun beating down with the intent to fry you alive.

Robin had practically begged you to go get ice cream and it wasn’t like you were gonna say no. It was hotter than hell out, of course you were gonna get ice cream, but then Steve tagged along. Sat across from you in the booth and ordered a strawberry milkshake. Wrapped his perfectly pouted lips around the straw and sipped it slowly. Licked whipped cream from his fingers. Ate the cherry last and looked up at you when he’d pulled it from the stem with his teeth and for a split second all you could think about was him.

What it would taste like. What it would feel like.

What it would be like to kiss Steve Harrington.

“Bye now,” Jason was smiling all saccharine sweet. Pure sugar. Too much and too fake as the girl he’d just kissed slowly backed away from him. Unable to pull her eyes away as he leaned against the frame of the booth effortless and on display for the girls waiting in line, all of them disappointed they hadn’t beat the clock to seven.

And as Steve walked across the field to take Jason’s spot, he audibly groaned watching the other boy soak it all up.

Fuck this. He was not excited, he was not looking forward to this, and he did not want to stand anywhere near a damn kissing booth. Roughing his hands over his face he sucked in a deep breath. It was only an hour. Sixty minutes. It would fly by.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the King!”

Yeah, no. This was going to suck.

“Haven’t used that since Junior year, Carver,” Steve’s voice was flat, unamused, and when he walked up on the line a few of the girls huddled up and started to whisper.

“Ah, c’mon, Harrington. Return of the king! Back on top!” the grin that pulled at the corners of Jason’s mouth grew as he fed off Steve’s negative energy. “C’mon, the ladies love it,” and as he turned back to the line a couple girls toward the end started to walk away, “Oof, guess I’m a hard act to follow.”

Steve jammed his tongue into his cheek, hands balling up at his sides as he eyed the other boy, wanting nothing more than to put a fist into Jason’s face. “It’s for charity, dumbass. Not a damn competition,” Steve grumbled as the other boy pushed himself off the wall of the booth.

“Whatever you say, King Steve. Dropping like flies. Least you’ll get out of here early,” Jason sneered and gave Steve a too-hard clap on the back. Biting down on his lip, Steve struggled to keep himself in check, struggled to keep his hands at his sides until someone else chimed in.

“Carver you better get goin’, gonna be late for Bible study,” Robin walked up on the boys with you and Nancy in tow and gave Jason a too-sweet smile of her own, “Don’t wanna let Jesus down. Well. More than you already have I guess.”

Jason’s face turned beet red and Steve stifled a laugh with a very unconvincing cough, a few scattered giggles coming from the line.

“Shut up, Buckley.”

“Tsk, tsk. How’s it go? Love your neighbor or whatever? Anyway, so nice to see you!” Robin punched him a little harder than she should’ve in the shoulder and walked up behind the counter to take over for Chrissy Cunningham. “Alright, ladies! Now that we’ve taken out the trash – come give the King of Hawkins high a big ol’ smooch and help buy new basketball uniforms! Real win/win here, friends,” her voice was so loud it made people’s heads turn over at the cake walk and Steve wanted to die.

“Jesus, Robin,” he hissed, scrambling over to take up his post under the giant red sign.

Nancy turned to you shaking her head, but smiling all fond over Robin, “I kinda feel bad for him.”

“I don’t,” you said with a laugh, watching the line perk up a bit with Robin’s encouragement as Steve looked like he wanted to pass out, giving the first girl in a line a kiss.

“You know, he’s not that bad,” Nancy said, giving you a nudge with her elbow.

Glancing back over at the booth you saw the second girl walk up and give her dollar to Robin, Steve’s face still flushed and pink, but lips just as pouted and perfect as they’d been that day at the diner. Sipping down strawberry milkshake and pulling the cherry off the stem and you felt your stomach flip over.

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, but Nancy chuckled when she saw how rosy your cheeks had grown.

“Okay, well you better get in line or you’ll have Robin on your ass worse than before,” she reminded you of your deal and you groaned. “It’ll be easy,” she said giving you a grin, “And he really is a good kisser.”

Your blush only deepened with her words and you tried to hide it, throwing your eyes down to your feet and starting to walk away, “Okay, great! Can’t wait. So awesome. Just the best.”

“Relax! It’s just a kiss!” she called over her shoulder as you fell into the last place in line behind someone from your old AP English class, trying very hard to not turn and run away.

At first it was an extremely awkward and uncomfortable exchange of events for Steve.

People would give Robin their money, she’d say thank you in her silly sing-songy Robin voice, and then they’d walk up to Steve and smile. Sometimes it was shy, sometimes it was overly aggressive, and sometimes there’d be a weird pause where they’d just stare at each other. He’d clear his throat nervously or stress about whether or not he should’ve brushed his teeth two more times before he’d left the house, but eventually she’d lean in and they’d kiss and then it’d be over.

It was ridiculous because he used to kiss random girls all the time at parties and shit in high school. Used to love it. Maybe because it stroked his ego. Because he liked showing off. Maybe he didn’t get enough affection at home. Maybe Nancy Wheeler broke his heart and he just wanted to forget, but now? Things were different now. He was different now.

He didn’t sleep around, he didn’t kiss and tell, his dating life was abysmal and this kissing booth just seemed to add insult to injury.

“Steve,” Robin whisper-yelled between customers as if she could tell he was spiraling, “You’re doing great. Only two more to go and you’re done!”

“God, Robin. Please stop talking,” Steve hissed back and gave the next girl a weak, half-hearted smile.

“Just saying–”

“Hi,” Steve cut Robin off and greeted the shorter, blonde girl he recognized from Senior year science. She was second-to-last in line ahead of you and you fought back a laugh, watching the awkwardness unfold.

“Hi, Stevie,” she purred and Steve’s stomach lurched.

Stevie? Oh god. Why?

She’d clearly just applied a fresh layer of shiny, pink gloss right before her turn came up and when she leaned in toward him, Steve waited til her eyes were closed to grimace. What? He wasn’t a monster.

It was slippery and wet and not good, but Steve gave her what he hoped was a friendly enough smile as she pulled away all starry-eyed.

“Maybe see you around? When you’re done?” she asked and he swallowed thickly.

“Yeah! Ye–maybe,” he stuttered and she slipped him a piece of paper with her number on it.

“Call me,” she winked and Steve died.

“Okay, sure. Thanks,” he stumbled over his words and when she finally turned away you watched as he screwed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath.

You caught the words stupid and want to die and you almost laughed, but it fell apart in your throat as the girl walked away and left you there. Last in line and panicking as you suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen next. Why were you just as nervous as he was?

Shaking off the last kiss, Steve was ready to just be done. Only one left Robin said, but when he looked up the pained expression on his face softened.

You.

Robin’s room mate. Her best friend. Her cute best friend. The one who fought him over best friend duties. Who teased him relentlessly and gave him shit all the time. Wasn’t afraid to eat an entire pizza on her own and always ordered a chocolate shake with sprinkles at the diner. Who wasn’t afraid to call him out on things and had a mouth like a sailor. A mouth he’d wanted to kiss more and more every time he saw you, but he could never find the right time to ask or try or make a move and–

“Oh,” fell from him, quiet and surprised and your lips twisted into a little frown.

“Oh,” you said back trying to tease, but it came out sounding a lot more hurt than anything.

Steve’s brows pinched together with worry and he took a step toward you, the most he’d moved all night. “N-no, sorry. I didn’t mean it like…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying hard to put words to what he was trying to say, but they weren’t coming out.

“That’s okay. S’for a good cause, right?” you shrugged and forced a smile.

“Yeah. Right,” he agreed lamely as you crammed a dollar into Robin’s hand with a glare. Two weeks better be worth it.

Then turning back to Steve you took another tiny step toward him and he did the same putting you two dangerously close. Almost toe-to-toe. The scent of fresh laundry and spearmint and boy making you feel dizzy, making you feel dumb, and when you pulled your eyes off the ground to look up at him your breath caught in your throat.

Fuck he was pretty.

That pout. The twin moles on his cheek. The soft slope of his jaw. The way his hair fell messy across his forehead and into his eyes all warm honey, liquid amber, melted caramel. He was making it hard to hold your grudge and you could feel the wall you’d put up around yourself start to crumble.

“So. We just–” you didn’t finish your sentence as he looked down at you, his lips parted, waiting, anticipating.

“Yeah. Yeah, uh–” Steve’s voice was low and made your tummy twist as he shook his head a little and leaned down. Tried to do the same thing he’d been doing all night, but suddenly so damn unsure. He paused, close enough you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek, “Is this–is this okay?”

“Mmhm,” you murmured and you didn’t have to wonder anymore. You were nervous, just like he was was, and it scared the shit out of you.

“Okay, guess I’ll just–” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he closed the gap between you and finally, finally pressed his lips soft and sweet to yours.

And it was everything.

It was slow and curious and a little shy, but the feeling of him against you pushed you to be brave and you tilted your head. Deepened the kiss. Opened for him and he slipped a hand wide and warm and soft at the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair and holding you even closer.

His tongue chased along your bottom lip and you sighed into him, letting him swallow all your soft pretty sounds until you were both breathless and needing air and when he started to pull away you swore you’d give Robin every single bill in your wallet to do it again.

Steve huffed a laugh, hand still holding you gentle at your neck and you bit your lips between your teeth to fight off a grin, too caught up in each other to care about anything else until–

“Yeah, think I’m gonna need another dollar for that one,” Robin was beaming at you two like an idiot and you both fixed her with a look, all sass and attitude.

“Robin,” your voice blended with Steve’s and Robin laughed so hard she snorted.

“Oh my god, please, please make this work. Look at you two. This is ridiculous. Here, go get a drink,” and she fisted a wad of dollars from the register, counting it out and replacing it with money from her own wallet before practically shoving it at Steve.

“What–”

“No, seriously, Harrington. Leave. Get outta here. It’s eight anyway,” Robin cut Steve off and pointed at her watch. Eight on the dot. Kissing Booth closed.

“Uh,” Steve started, looking back over at you with a lopsided smile, “Wanna get a drink?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, hummingbird wings and nerves and a feeling you hadn’t had in a long time. A tiny flicker breathed into flames when Steve pressed his lips to yours and you felt your cheeks warm again at the thought of it.

“For charity?” you teased, trying hard to will your blush away as you pulled your eyes up to meet his.

“No way,” he said, too quick and suddenly his cheeks matched yours. Pink and rosy and warm and you laughed. “No,” he tried again, smile tugging into a smug grin. Just a tiny bit King Steve, but the show of confidence made you weak in the knees, made you want to kiss him again and you grinned right back.

“Okay, but you’re driving. Robs has a hot date,” turning you winked at Robin and her jaw dropped, fighting the urge to dive over the counter and kill you.

“A hot date?” Steve’s eyes grew wide and he reached up to slap at Robin’s hands, “With Nance??”

“I’m late, gotta get this to Click, told her I’d close this up by eight so she could go home,” Robin rambled, trying to pretend like there was so much to do, but failing miserably.

“Have fun!” you teased, throwing her sing-songy tone back in her face, but she ignored you, walking off across the football field still mumbling under her breath.

You looked back to make a joke to Steve, to laugh at Robin, but the sight of him had your words dying in your throat.

"Ready?" he asked, twirling his keys on his ring finger, looking the most relaxed he’d been all night and your heart leapt, hammering against your ribcage. Deep green henley snug across his chest. Dark wash Levi’s hugging all the right places. Hair still messy in his eyes. Those eyes. One hand jammed in his pocket and dirty blue Adidas shifting on the terf, ready to get outta there. Ready to get a drink with you and dammit, Nancy was right.

He was a good kisser.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve fanfic #steve x reader #steve x fem #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic

457 notes · View notes

kyber-crystal · 10 months

Note

For requests, maybe something with rooster where you like to play little tiktok pranks on him. like imagine telling him you paid $200 for premium air in your tires or supergluing a jar and he can't open it lol 😭😭 I just think he would have the best reactions to all of them

HAIJHSOJNSOJXN I JUST BUST OUT LAUGHING READING THIS (also despite being on tiktok i’m not super up to date on all the pranks bc they haven’t shown up a lot on my fyp. but i HAVE seen some stuff here and there so i will mostly be going off that haha). anyway i’m so sorry this was genuinely so cringe bc i haven’t done headcanons in a while but i hope it makes u laugh anyway :)) i have a better one shot coming your way i promise

rooster is the prankster of the group

but there’s only one person that can outdo him: you

this man practically falls to his feet when he sees you and worships the ground you walk on and somehow YOU CANT SEE IT

what this basically means is he will literally drop whatever he’s doing to listen to you

miraculously, cyclone is in a good mood, and thus decides to grant everyone three days off

this is the perfect time for you to mess with little rooster’s head :)

you know you go to the beach to play volleyball every friday. and this friday is supposed to be the hottest day of the month

this means that rooster will burn almost as quickly as he tans

while he’s busy chatting up some “game plan” with coyote, you swap out the sunscreen spray in his jacket pocket for baby oil

SO THEN he comes over to put it on, and not even ten seconds later he’s all shiny and sparkly and you try your hardest not to laugh (and gawk a little bc holy that man is TONED)

you’re able to get about 2 rounds in when he notices

“why do i smell like i just waltzed through a lavender field.”

“hmmmmmmmmm no idea” you smiled at him innocently

“it was you, wasn’t it” and he goes chasing after you as you shriek at the top of your lungs

(he managed to tackle you down and although you get a bit sand in your mouth and hair you count it as a win because you took him completely by surprise AND you got to see his bare chest but you wouldn’t fucking dare admit that to him, his ego is big enough as it is. rooster 0-you 1)

ok later that evening @ the hard deck, he’s on a phone call with one of his old college friends. for this one, you team up with hangman to hand him some of the most random things while he’s talking

you start off normal at first, like with a beer, then your hair tie (he always wears at least 3-4 of these on his wrist bc you always end up needing one at some point in the week.)

then hangman hands him a cube of ice. literally a cube of ice. but rooster barely reacts to this and just pops it into his mouth

then a lightbulb goes off in your head

knowing that rooster has an irrational fear of ladybugs, you quickly go out to the back to find one

then you come back and hold your hand out to him

and rooster, being rooster, LOVES physical contact (especially if it’s from you), and takes your hand in his as he continues talking

but then the bright red ladybug crawls onto his wrist and he almost immediately hangs up, drops the phone, and SCREAMS in the middle of the bar

you and hangman share a secret high five at this

but ALSOOO you kind of feel bad for scaring the shit out of the poor guy

that night you’re too lazy to walk back to your place so rooster offers to let you stay with him

and duh you say yes (it’s def bc you’re getting extra opportunities to pull pranks on him and not bc you have a fat crush on him and are hoping he’ll notice even though you’re the least obvious lil shit and prefer to show you care ab him by asking if he wants anything from costco or his fav restaurant down the street)

he ends up sleeping in the next morning, and you’re up pretty early, so you decide to make breakfast

you make a mental note to yourself to go on a grocery run together next week bc you were almost out of strawberry jam

he comes downstairs w/ messy hair and sits down at the counter

and he tries to open the jar of jam

but it won’t budge

he keeps trying for a minute straight but then gives up

so his eyes immediately go over to you and you play dumb

“i didn’t do anything i swear!”

“y/n.”

“i’m innocent!”

“y/n.”

he suddenly brushes your cheek with his thumb and you find this a bit strange since it’s so sudden. and still, your heart does that annoying thing where it skips a beat every time he touches you

“superglue…” he murmured. “i wonder how that got here?”

hahahahahahahaha you sure wonder. it’s not like you stole it while he was sleeping one night

anyway

later that night you ask him if he wants to go for a drive down by the coastline and he says yes.

“yknow, i paid $200 to get premium air for these bad boys!” you told him as you started the engine.

“you…what…”

“for my tires!”

he looks flabbergasted

“y/n, i think you got scammed”

“ok”

you keep driving anyway, the car did NOT feel any different like the mechanic promised it would

but you were no way in hell about to admit that to an already smug looking bradley bradshaw

rooster has finally, FINALLY started to catch onto your antics

so he starts scheming all week to figure out how to get back at you

during this week you’re extremely busy flying back and forth with payback, lessons with maverick, and staying up way too late with phoenix to talk about the latest season of your favorite show

so you don’t even notice that he hasn’t been around for a hot min

then one thursday afternoon right after you got out of the shower, you get a text from him that tells you he’s grabbing some fancy dinner with the guys in an hour and to dress fancy

this has you SCRAMBLING to change bc the place he’s referring to is absolutely legendary

so you show up to the restaurant all polished up and find him in a private booth in the back

“hey…”

rooster is suddenly speechless bc when he told you to dress nice, he didn’t expect you to look like an actual angel

“y/n…you look beautiful”

“thank you…but hey, where is everyone?”

“running a bit late, they should be here soon”

so you order first and wait. and wait. but nobody else shows up

and suddenly the space between you two felt like it had been chopped in half and now you were sitting a lot closer than you remembered

“okay i lied, i’m sorry” he says all of a sudden and you’re like huh tf u talkin ab “i never asked them to come. this is a date. we’re on a date.”

“we are?”

“yes”

so in the end…it’s ultimately you who gets pranked :)

:) :) :) :) :)

…

taglist (add yourself here!): @uwiuwi @queenbbarnes @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @and-claudia @bittergomez @julia-marshal @elenavampire21 @totomoshi @lyn-lc @lunamoonbby @paintballkid711 @yeehawnana @hazelgirl355 @spawn0fsatan @teacactusworld @icemansgirl1999 @cherry-waved @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @hoedameronsworld @aerangi

also quick PSA: my taglist spreadsheet hasn’t been updated in a while so this list may not be completely accurate, sorry for any inconveniences : ‘/

#top gun: maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #top gun imagine

234 notes · View notes

rottingpirate · 1 year

Note

if this is kinda morbid and makes u uncomfy feel free to ignore but here i go: theres this news report about a florida man getting accidentally shot in the head by his wife, but he survived, the bullet lodged behind his ear and only felt a bad headache. now i was wondering how the 141 would handle a situation like that (only the getting shot in the head and not even realizing it part) w/ the reader and him being unaware

IF THIS IS TOO MUCH i apologize again lmao😭

Bro I really had to look this up. Florida is a fever dream frfr.

Also I was hella confused if you meant them or the reader getting shot. So this time it's gonna be them ig. Also it's kinda rushed-

Price

Price started complaining about a headache that wouldn't leave him alone.

You freeze when you see red, sticky liquid near his ear

I mean, it was confusing, like was he shot? There didn't appear much blood, but wh- how- dude- stop-

When he notices you staring his smile falters as he asks what's wrong

When you take him to the nurse

She just looks at him and confirms what you though. He was shot.

Even he was taken aback. When and how and why did he get shot and didn't notice??

You just wondered as to how was he this careless

He knows you well, so when he sees your worried expression he convinces you that he's okay.

You sat by his side highkey judging him for not knowing how he got shot in the head

Ghost

Bro came back after a mission with a huge headache, like he thought his head was gonna explode or something

He didn't think much of it and just went to bed after taking painkillers

He didn't sleep that night and only layed there with throbbing pain in his head

He removed his mask, hoping maybe that would help, but no-

He decided to ask you for help

You being tired and not in the mood, took him to the nurse

He said he's fine the entire way there

The nurse just looked at him like 🤨

Moment of silence for him to process.

Huh?

You know this is a serious situation, but it's kinda hilarious ngl

You found his expression entertaining to say the least

Soap

He comes to cuddle you after complaining about a headache

At first you don't think nothing of it, but then you feel something warm and sticky near his ear after playing with his hair

Umm...Johnny, why you bleeding?

...

He's thrown off balance

Like he accidentally got shot by Gaz after having a play fight with him and now he's dying??

Rushed him to the doctor who already deals with him and his stupid injuries every other day so he's not that surprised by it

Weird that he didn't feel anything though

Always fully examine him after missions and play fights

Won't trust Gaz for the next two weeks

Gaz

You don't have time for this, as thoughts began to stir up your head

You examine his head and sure enough there's a little bloody bullet hole behind his ear

Panic flashes through both of yalls eyes

You take him to the doctor not knowing whether to be mad or to laugh

He freaks out, starts planning his funeral

Tells everyone in 141 how much he loves them

He acts all dramatic and shit

I could've died and you're laughing???

Yes, indeed you are laughing at his pure stupidity

How could he be so careless?

Don't lose sight of him during missions ever again

#confusion #Florida man 141??#call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #cod x gn reader #cod x male reader #x gn reader

539 notes · View notes

bi-bats · 6 months

Note

trick or treat!! 3-sentence fic or wip sneak peak? (up to u!)

HELLOOOOO MY BELOVED!! HAPPY HALLOWEEENNNNNNNN

For YOU I have a snippet of the one shot I'm working on that was like. supposed to be a drabble for the prompt you sent me and has gotten. long. lmao.

also it's going to be a fic with smut in it and I haven't even gotten to the smut yet and it's already 2.5k words lmao

so here my TRIUMPHANT RETURN TO WRITING JAYTIM

~ ✨ ~

“Do you… well… I mean… I could give you a massage?”

Jason blinks at him.

“Did… I’m sorry. Did you just say you could give me a massage?”

Tim’s face burns furiously hot. What does he say, no?

Well. He kind of wants to say no, actually. Maybe he can just gaslight his way out of this one—

No, no. Jason heard.

Damn.

He tries to say yes, but it tilts up into a question at the end.

“Yes?”

Jason blinks at him, and Tim’s skin feels too tight. The material of the couch is suddenly itchy on the back of his arms, but the heat on his face distracts him from it. Mostly.

“…Okay.”

There’s a stutter in Tim’s breathing, the slightest hitch between in and out, right after Jason answers. It’s unnoticeable.

If you aren’t a bat.

Jason raises an eyebrow, because of course he fucking noticed.

Tim can’t just sit there while Jason looks at him like that, so he moves.

He shifts forward on the couch, scooting an inch or two closer and waving his hands in what he hopes is a gesture indicating ‘turn around so I can rub your shoulders’ and not ‘I have no idea what to do with my hands right now this is so awkward why did I offer this oh my god’.

He’s probably fine. The gesture for that would have had more flapping.

Probably.

It still takes Jason a second to get in gear. He shrugs, tilting his head to the side in a way that says something like ‘eh, why not’, which isn’t exactly what Tim had been hoping for when offering to touch a guy he’s had a crush on since he knew what crushes were, but he’s letting Tim do it, so it’s better than rejecting—

Jason slides his shirt off in a smooth motion, reaching over the back of his head to grab the neck of it and tug it off.

It’s like one of those fucking thirst trap reels on Instagram.

Tim was just watching him move over on the couch while his thoughts went on a little spiral, and then Jason reached for the back of his shirt, and bam.

The lights drop, the music starts, the speed slows down, and Tim can see every ripple in the muscles of Jason’s forearm, every inch of skin revealing as he lifts the shirt, every angle of the dips in his spine, every scar, every scab, every damn freckle — for god’s sake, he can even see about a half an inch of elastic above the top of his pants.

It’s red.

Of course it’s red.

Tim takes a deep breath, trying to disguise it by shifting closer to Jason, who’s sitting with his back to Tim, his arms threaded through the shirt in his lap.

He can do this. He can do this.

It’s just a massage.

“Come on, Timbo. Let’s see what those scrawny fingers got.”

Tim lets out an exasperated scoff, and Jason’s shoulders shake two or three times as he chuckles.

He considers digging an elbow into Jason’s spine, just to be an asshole, but he has a better plan.

He’s going to wow him. It’s going to be the best damn massage in his life.

Scrawny fingers, Tim grumbles in his head as he places his hand down on Jason’s left shoulder.

Immediately, Jason flinches and lets out a noise of surprise, and Tim flinches back because he’s surprised.

Great start.

“Jesus fuck, your fingers are like ice!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tim mutters, even though he isn’t, not really. Still, he rubs his hands together quickly, just a few times to get some of the cold out of them.

He puts his hands back on Jason’s shoulders, and Jason stiffens, but he doesn’t flinch away this time.

Okay. Good.

Tim starts applying pressure, rubbing up and down the muscles, and after a few moments, it’s easier to shift into a more clinical headspace, even with the warmth of his skin seeping through Tim’s fingers.

“Where is it bothering you?” he asks.

“Oh, uh. By my spine. And…” Jason pauses for a moment while Tim’s palm digs into the meat of his shoulder, and when he resumes speaking, his voice is a little higher. “…my neck.”

Tim nods, letting his palm dig in again. He wishes he had lotion or something. Jason’s skin drags against his every time he moves his hand, and it’s uncomfortable. Also, Jason’s skin is warm, flushing pink under the area he’s been rubbing, and… a little bit up his neck, too actually. The tips of his ears are pink, Tim realizes as he works his way up to the crook of Jason’s neck.

He digs his thumb into the muscle right by the top of Jason’s shoulder, and he’s just starting to lose himself in it when he hears a breathy noise, almost like…

No. No, Tim’s making shit up. Jason did not audibly moan. Tim is putting things where he wants them to be, because that’s what he wants.

On the next roll of his palm, Jason says, “Ngh, Christ, Tim.”

With Tim’s hand frozen on his shoulder, he can feel the way Jason tenses, has a front row seat to the burst of color across his neck.

Thank god they’re in Jason’s apartment. In Jason’s living room. With Jason’s cameras recording. He doesn’t have to memorize the way that sounded coming out of Jason’s mouth.

No, he can go hack into his files and save it as a clip and then back it up on three separate servers, and then also a hard drive, and maybe also on a USB in a lockbox buried in the woods somewhere, because he doesn’t think he can live another moment of his life without having access to the way his name sounded coming out of Jason’s mouth.

“Sorry,” Jason mutters, and he sounds… meek? It’s weird, but Tim doesn’t think he’s ever heard Jason sound shy.

“No worries,” Tim says, feeling like he’s regained some ground.

“You can… make noise,” Tim adds.

Immediately, he feels like he’s lost that ground.

Jason clears his throat a little. “No, it’s — it’s fine, I’m good. You can, uh. Keep going.”

A grin tugs across his mouth as he resumes his massage, listening to the way Jason’s breathing is getting heavier.

“I thought my fingers were scrawny?”

#batwrites #batsasks #☁️ eidoloony #jaytim #jaytim fic #writing snippet

102 notes · View notes

swiftgreatest · 1 year

Text

Daylight | Eddie Roundtree x Reader

request by anon: "Heyy i loved the eddie oneshot you made!! So i wanted to ask if i can request another eddie roundtree x reader inspired by daylight by taylor swift, especially this part " And I can still see it all (in my head)/ Back and forth from New York (sneaking in your bed)" ?? Thank uu, love your writing <3"

a/n: hello!! I'm so happy to write a one shot based on taylor swift song, I LOVE THIS WOMAN!!!!! i love her lyrics she's fantastic. so thanks for request, hope u like.

words: 3.5k

Drowning your sorrows with alcohol in a random bar in Los Angeles was not what you expected for the weekend. In fact, you expected much more. Being with the one you loved and who claimed to love you was what you wanted, watching random movies, kissing, comforting each other was all you wanted. But he didn't want that, in fact he didn't want only you.

You were cursing yourself for never noticing, all the times he ran away, ignored calls, made excuses, it was all in your face and you couldn't see it. You thought this was the one, your happy ending, the one you would love until the last day of your life, the one with whom you would share every part of your life. But it wasn't.

He betrayed and abandoned you, put you in his sea of illusions and lies, only to find someone else and abandon you. The love that you thought would take care of you and love you, the famous red love, romantic love, was actually a pack of lies, pretenses and betrayals.

You have never felt so used and hurt as you do now, it's as if you were trapped in a 20-year dark night, with no way out, no light, nothing to help you or guide you out of this darkness, everything was black and white for you.

As you were about to order another drink for the barman, a man sat down on the stool next to you. He was tall and handsome, his hair was a shade of blond with a bit of brown, his brown eyes watched you and with his slightly reddish mouth he smiled at you, he already had a beer in his hand and asked you for another, you arched your eyebrow in confusion and he finally spoke to you.

"Sorry I didn't even ask if you like beer.

"No problem, I like this stuff a lot" You pointed to the bottle, you were a little drunk but still understood what was going on around you and were aware of your mind.

"Well, my name is Eddie, Eddie Roundtree." He held out his hand and you shook it back, the way he introduced himself was different like he was used to people recognizing him or something, you even stopped to think for a moment and analyzed him. Who he was or who he could be.

Being an actress, working mostly in plays and musicals, you knew many famous people in various fields, actresses, actors, musicians of all styles and even other types of artists, so you tried to think if he was one of those artists. The style was typical of the rock movement, but many people followed that style.

"Y/N L/N. Have we met before?"

"No, but I think you may have heard some of my band's music" So he was a musician but that didn't help you "You know, The Six..." Oh so you recognized it.

"Oh, Daisy Jones and The Six! I remember that" You met them with Honeycomb, that song stayed in your head for months and when Aurora was released you were quick to buy a record for yourself. "Oooh we can make a good thing baaad" You sang, it was a bit of a disaster because you were a bit drunk, your voice was better than that but you allowed yourself to laugh at yourself singing like that to a guy you just met.

Eddie laughed at that, his voice came out a little slurred with the music and he loved that, he even sang the next part with you, and you both ended up laughing together at each other. You clicked very quickly. You started talking to him, about the band, the songs, and the current Aurora tour.

After that Eddie started telling you about his career, how he was a guitar player in the beginning of the band and then a bass player, he also told you about music, how it was something important in his life and how he intends to work with music forever.

"But I talked a lot about myself, what about you? Tell me about you?"

You told him all about yourself, every little detail, and Eddie listened to everything with excitement and curiosity, he saw you in the bar and thought you were the most charming woman he had ever seen, there was no way he could resist, and now each thing you said he was more fascinated by you.

From your life as an attendant in a market to the stages of Broadway and other theaters, you told your whole story to the bass player. He was surprised that you were an actress and was dying to see you perform, he was sure you were amazing.

With every word you said about your work, Eddie could see how passionate you were about your profession, passionate about what you did, and you had a great passion that he found beautiful as well as everything about you.

Between talking about your lives and other things, you and Eddie talked about the most varied subjects, it was as if you were old friends who had met and already knew each other's life story. The conversation was wonderful, you never felt so caught up and excited in a conversation with someone as you did with Eddie and you had only known him a few hours. You spent so many hours talking that the bartenders had to kick you out because they had to close, and you were the last ones to stay.

The musician and you left the bar laughing, who could imagine being thrown out of such a place? Nevertheless, this event didn't spoil the evening, nothing could. And who knew that you would have so much fun on a night that began full of sadness and disappointment. You were so happy that you met Eddie, he was like a light bringing clarity and joy to your evening.

After you left the bar, Eddie called a cab for you because neither he nor you could drive after drinking alcohol. You got into the cab and he leaned out the window to talk to you.

"So when will we see each other again? You were surprised at yourself for saying that sentence, it was so fast you couldn't even think, it seemed strange, you had just ended a relationship and were already going out with a guy? But this is your life, so you make the rules here and live as you like.

"Whenever you want, for you I am always at your disposal..." Roundtree smiled as he stared at you, he looked at your mouth, then at your eyes and you did the same to him. But he couldn't do that yet, you hadn't even had a decent first date and you had been drinking a lot and he wanted to do it sober.

You took a piece of paper from your purse and wrote your phone number "Call me, I'll be waiting for you rock star" You kissed the paper before handing it to him. After that you told the driver to go and waved to Eddie as the car pulled away. And if you had looked back any longer you would have seen Eddie kissing the paper with your number on it and looking at it like a winning ticket.

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in

Everyone looked worse in the light

There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

Many months passed after that, there were many meetings, kisses, moments, jokes and conversations, but you remember everything in your mind. From your first meeting at the movies to when Eddie introduced you to his friends, the guys in the band loved you, everyone was kind and polite and you liked all of them, except Billy. Eddie told you some things about Billy before you met, but you left it to your own opinions without influence from anyone. So in your own judgment you didn't like Billy Dunne, nothing about him pleased you, his arrogant and smug air made you feel sorry for those who had to live with him every day.

But apart from that, you and the band created a good relationship, you became very close to Karen and she even revealed to you her relationship with Graham, you were happy but not surprised anyone could see how much the guitarist liked the keyboard player and you think they are cute. You also became very close to Warren the drummer was very happy that his friend had found a girl, especially one as special as you, so you became friends and you even saw Rollerball with him once.

Between the trips you had to make for your job to perform in theaters around the country, Eddie also had to travel for the Aurora tour, so from one city to another you would meet up when your schedules matched or you got a break and when you couldn't Roundtree would call you every day after the shows, this was like a rule to him, he wouldn't sleep or rest without talking to you, in fact he doesn't even know if he could because your voice calmed him down and talking to you made him forget about the problems of the tour.

On one of your days off you joined the band to go to Pittsburgh. Eddie was very excited about this trip, he talked about it for weeks and his joy was contagious. He really wanted you to see the city where he was born, and to meet his family, especially his grandmother. The bassist talked a lot about his family and all he wanted was to introduce the person he was completely in love with to the most important people in his life, his family.

The trip to Pittsburgh was good, you talked with Lisa, Warren's girlfriend for a while until you felt tired and you and your boyfriend went to sleep, you were in armchairs close to each other so he only had to put his arms around you and you put your head against his chest to sleep. You slept soundly feeling safe in each other's company and didn't even notice that Camila took a picture of you. She gave the picture to you a few days after the unveiling saying how cute you both were. And now you carry that picture with you everywhere you go.

The days in Pittsburgh were the best, Eddie was so happy, you fell in love with his family and the city, it was all so comforting, everyone was so kind to you. Eddie's family loved you, they were very loving, you spent the days talking to Eddie's grandmother, she was very kind, you formed a great friendship and Eddie was very happy about it. To see you with his grandmother at the show in Pittsburgh was very important for him.

But not everything was perfect, in the show Billy Dunne stole Eddie's part in Daisy's solo. In front of everyone, your whole hometown, your friends, your family, you. You spent the whole night after the show consoling your boyfriend, after the show was over you realized how upset he was, you were spending the days at his family's house so when you came back and went into Eddie's old bedroom, where you were sleeping, you hugged him and he started to cry.

He was so tired of being belittled, manipulated and used, he had so much talent but all he got was depreciation. Being in the band was a dream for him, but he never imagined that a dream could become a nightmare. You knew about what Billy was doing, about re-recording Eddie's basses and how he always belittled the bass player and other members of his own band, you were disgusted by that man.

"He couldn't have done that, not here in Pittsburgh, in front of my grandmother, in front of you. You sat on the bed as you continued to hold each other, his face was on your neck and you felt his tears on your skin, you were moving his hair trying to reassure him, it broke your heart to see him like that.

"He's an asshole. I know how much you want to prove to people how talented you are, but you don't have to prove anything to anyone, it's not your job." You pulled his face away from your neck to look him in the eyes "Your grandma knows how talented you are, your family knows it, your town knows it, and I know it Eddie, we're all proud of you.

"I know my love, but I can't understand how such a horrible person as that guy can get anything he wants, or do anything he wants and nobody says anything. I wish I could make him feel the same way, excluded, despised, ignored, he deserves it."

"Don't let this bad feeling consume you, it will only break you, or worse, it will make you just like Billy, a person who is so broken inside that he needs to belittle and break the people around him to feel better or superior. You are not like that Eddie, you are bigger than that, your music and passion is bigger than all that.

And it was looking into your eyes at that moment, inside your childhood bedroom, with the curtains open where the window allowed the moonlight to shine on you, that the bass player had an epiphany, a confirmation of how everything you had was something so precious and unique, that he wanted it forever, to be with someone who supported and loved him the way he was with all the flaws and faults, a love that told the truth but would never say good-bye

You once told Eddie that he was like daylight, that he brightened your days, cleared your thoughts and brought you out of a dark night of twenty years, and that now with him you could only see daylight with him. He had never understood that, until today.

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

I've been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night

And now, I see daylight

I only see daylight

Sometimes life changes so fast that when we stop and look back we think how real was it? How much we felt and all that we experienced. It's crazy how fast the night can change. And that's what happened in your life and in Eddie's life.

After the Pittsburgh show the tension in the band increased, everyone was uncomfortable and in trouble, except Warren. Eddie was at his limit and you knew it, when he told you that he was leaving the band, you were sad for him, because you knew that this was his dream and he dedicated so much of himself, but you respected his decision and supported him in it, all you wanted was for him to be okay.

And your boyfriend really admired this in you. In the beginning he was afraid to tell you that he was leaving the band, he was insecure, the band was the only thing he had, he was afraid that you would see him in a different way now that he was not part of one of the biggest bands in rock. And he was relieved when nothing changed, you still believed in him and his talent.

You still remember the day after the Chicago show, you were at your home in New York. Last night Eddie didn't call you as usual and you were very worried, you called but he didn't answer. Then in the afternoon when the thoughts were troubling you, your apartment doorbell rang and you answered. At the door was Eddie, with a suitcase and a black eye, the only thing he said to you was "It's over" and you understood everything. You cared for him that night, you loved him, supported him, and cared for him.

In the months after the breakup, Eddie surprised you. He bought a new apartment, a bigger one than you had, a place of your own, where you could be who you were and love each other the way you wanted. Starting to live with Eddie was amazing, you had a great life, waking up with daylight shining on you, cooking meals together and making messes, sneaking in your bed, Eddie helping you rehearse lines for the plays you were in.

It was so funny, he was always so dramatic in his lines and so expressive, you laughed at him most of the time and it made the work lighter. Roundtree went back to playing guitar, he went back to writing, making some songs and meeting new bands, labels and musicians. And this is how Eddie slowly entered the world of music production. He got a job at a record company and became the producer of a hard rock band that was starting up.

After the first album, the band took off and Eddie's work was recognized, so the record company called him to produce other music and other artists and this is how he established himself as a popular and good music producer. You couldn't even describe how happy you were, you were so happy that Eddie would continue with his dream, you were afraid that he would quit music after the band and when he started producing music you could see how excited and happy he was, so you were happy too.

You accompanied him to all his events and he did the same with you, without the touring life he had more time now, so he went to all his shows and was your biggest fan as his co-workers said. His job remained the same and that's why you still need to travel.

And I can still see it all (in my mind)

All of you, all of me (intertwined)

I once believed love would be (black and white)

But it's golden (golden)

And I can still see it all (in my head)

Back and forth from New York (sneaking in your bed)

I once believed love would be (burning red)

But it's golden

Like daylight, like daylight

And that's what you were doing now. Sitting in front of a dressing table in your dressing room, you were getting ready to go on stage. You were in Arizona performing your new play that was showing in several states. It had been a month since you had seen Eddie and it was so hard for you, you spent so much time together, it was like the time he went on tour, you kept calling and even exchanging letters. In some of them Eddie sent you some lyrics he wrote about you, writing music was something he never gave up and you were proud of it.

Now looking in the mirror, you think back to all the moments you remembered, the first time you saw each other, life with him in the era of The Six, building a life in New York. And you could only feel grateful and happy to have built such an amazing life next to someone you loved so much and who loved you with the same intensity. Real love, with difficulties and battles, but together you overcame everything and grew to become what you are today.

You smiled at the thought, and were so thoughtful that you didn't even notice when a production employee walked into your dressing room.

"Miss Y/N L/N, this came for you" He handed you a bouquet of flowers, they were yellow daffodils, they were beautiful.

"Oh, thank you so much, do you know who sent them?"

"No, but this note came with them" He handed you a small envelope "And you go on stage in 5 minutes" You nodded your head in agreement and he left, then you opened the note.

"I have traveled a long way just to see my star shine with my own eyes on this stage. Greetings from New York."

The note was unsigned but you already knew who it was from, you cracked a big smile, kissed the note and put it away with the bouquet. Then you came out of your dressing room and ran onto the stage. Lights were turned on and the curtains opened, and when you looked out into the audience there he was.

In all his glory, he was standing in the front row applauding you and smiling at you proudly, the man who changed your life, who taught you that love was golden, that love is about good things and not about making the other person feel belittled, the love of your life, your daylight.

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you (I can never look away)

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

(Things will never be the same)

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

(Now I'm wide awake)

And now I see daylight (I see daylight), I only see daylight (Ah)

— — —

I LOVE WRITE THISSSS, HOPE U GUYS LIKE

masterlist

#eddie roundtree #djats #daisy jones and the six #eddie loving #request #swiftgreatest's write #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie loving x reader #eddie roundtree one shot #eddie loving x you #eddie loving imagine #eddie loving one shot #eddie roundtree imagine #eddie roundtree x you

269 notes · View notes

jstarr86 · 3 months

Text

I braided my hair into buns I had different colored pieces red and gold weaved thru it and glitter tossing on some mascara and lip oil. I slipped on my jersey that said our last name on the back Joe and I matching. We also has jackets. Only he had on his custom 49er shoes and no doubt those damn socks. Me I had on my red and black Jordans. I’d never buy these at most forces were the most expensive I bought but Joe nah and he bought us both every pair and me tons of forces and tons of shoes for the kids. He was definitely the spender and the more lavish.

“You look so good aulelei.”

“You too handsome.”

“You ready.”

“Yea.”

“Mmm smell good.”

“Mmm. Baby don’t.”

“You do.” Joe gently grabbed my face kissing me. His other hand slid to my waist pulling me into him before he slid it back caressing my ass as I moaned softly in his mouth causing his grip to tighten. We pulled apart as his phone rang. “Yeah, ok we on the way.” He hung up looking at me. “They downstairs.”

“Ok let’s go.” We headed downstairs meeting with Jon, Trin, Josh, Pam and Mercedes. Theyd met us here in Vegas. Joe and I had flown in for the Mania press conference which was a shit show that I was stuck in the middle of the only positive from that was the mind blowing sex that was a result of a very pissed off husband. I’d talked Joe into checking out tailgating I mean this was the Super Bowl a once in a lifetime thing and his team, we was taking in everything.

I took pictures smiling as he had a good time and the game that was going even better his team was doing really good. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have a voice come tomorrow. Joe held my hips holding me from behind. He bent speaking in my ear

“You def getting this Super Bowl championship dick tonight.” He leaned his head up “yessir!” He yelled loudly before he looked down at me winking as I shook my head laughing. If it was up to him and he could make it happen it wouldn’t surprise me if he tried to fuck me on the damn field. We’d done a lot of crazy shit in our relationship. Hell if we was alone in this suite he’d probably find a way to do something. I snagged some food while he chuckled taking a sip of his drink. It was good to see him relaxing, the smile his laughing and being carefree for once and he was kinda cheating on the diet and drinking but one day out of any it was ok.

“What what now it’s my part of the Super Bowl!” Trin yelled as I laughed.

While we was watching the halftime show it def was club vibes and we was def all dancing. I leaned my head back on Joe dancing as he held me in his arms I was singing but I could tell he was too by the way his chest was vibrating against my back. Joe leaned his head into my neck his chin on my shoulder singing U got it bad as we danced together.

So far the Niners were killing it. 6 months ago when we were on ESPN and he said it be the Chiefs and the Niners although I’d agreed with the Chiefs I didn’t with this but my man had called it to a T and he was close to being right and the Niners winning a championship for the first time in 20 years. It was down to the wire the Chiefs having the ball with 10 seconds left and Kelce’s fine little self killed it they were in field goal range and finally decided to go for the field goal and send it to overtime. The guys nervous but they still had a shot but football that overtime used sudden death whoever scored first won but they recently changed it and now the other team had a shot and while the Niners hit a field goal the Chiefs had the chance to score.

“Don’t fuckin blow it it come on yall!” I smiled at my husband as he yelled. I’d never seen him more happy and hyped. This was probably in his top five of life

experiences minus our wedding kids who I’d group collectively and a mania. I watched as my husbands team heartbrokenly lost in a hard fought game that was close and good as fuck but he was pissed. It hurt seeing him go from so happy and elated to sad if I could describe the look on his face, it broke my heart. That last minute touchdown was it, the Chiefs became the first team in 20 years to get back to back championships.

We finally after what felt like forever made our way out of the arena and into a limo. We’d split from everyone else and I watched as he angrily leaned back into his seat.

“Aye least yall made it further than dem boys did.”

“Aulelei no offense the Cowboys choke post season.”

“Hey I’m tryin to console you and you talk shit.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Shh and I’m sorry they lost really thought they had it.”

“Me too that’s why I hate OT and of all nights for the new rule to take effect.”

“I know your teams expense.”

“Exactly.”

“It was a good game though.”

“It was we almost had they asses we def gettin it next year.” He was still pouting as I rubbed his face.

“My big bad husband upset.”

“Yeah.” I leaned up straddling his waist as he looked over my shoulder. “Least the partition is already closed.”

“Joe.” I giggled hitting his arm. As he brought up the one time we fooled around in a limo. We made out a bit his hands resting on my ass that he squeezed. I moved when the car stopped and took his hand as he helped me out and we made our way back into the hotel. I quickly grabbed pajamas and discarded my clothes going to hit a shower until my husbands hand stopped me

“What.”

“You ain’t gonna need that for awhile.”

“Why’s that… tama.” I asked meeting his eyes as the darkened a grunt leaving his lips.

“You know why, especially with that word.”

“Na’o le fue ia te a’u tama” I replied smirking as his eyes darkened more and his chest rumbled. He reached forward grabbing me as he passionately kissed me before lifting me into his arms.

“Be careful what you ask for aulelei.”

“Mmm don’t make promises you can’t keep.” I gasped a moan as he slid inside me I wasn’t expecting him to do that so quickly.

“Talk that shit now.”

“Mm fuck.” I muttered as he grabbed my hands pinning them above my head. The way he could hold me down with one hand while absolutely wrecking me with pleasure never ceases to amaze and turn me on. The duality of the sweet love of Joe and the rough dominance I still didn’t know which was better although right now angry Joe was amazing.

“You feel good, I’m gonna make you cum aren’t I.”

“Joe.”

“Jayla.” He grunted slamming into me rougher as I fell over the edge hands desperately trying to cling to his wrist. He lifted one of my legs into his arm making his stroke hit different as he slammed into my gspot

“Oh my god.”

“Nah just your chief.”

“Shut up.”

“Lo’u masiofo likes it huh.”

“Yes.” I moaned out. Joe chuckled knowing exactly what he was doing. He knew it and his fan girls were welcome. He’d posted some things here or there about him and usually they’d say he saw and knew and he did. He liked going on different sites seeing what was being said about him. The vulgarity of some of it made me laugh cause I felt that and he was my husband.

“ma e talia a'u e lo'u masiofo.”

“Joe.” I moaned out voice cracking as he made me cum again. His grunts in my ear as he thrust four more times before stilling. “God if that’s how you lose ima need them to win next season.” I muttered as he laughed pulling me into his chest a kiss pressing to the top of my head.

“They win you won’t be walking for two weeks.”

“Two.”

“Yeah cause we’d be partying and the parade and in between all of it your getting this dick let them win.” I kissed his chest as I relaxed letting his heartbeat lure me to a much needed sleep.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #jey uso smut

25 notes · View notes

mr-bas00nist · 1 year

Note

Bro I'm stupid and I press send without fucking finish the sentence

ANYHOW, YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT HAVE YOU DONE BY TELLING MR YOU WRITE FOR KÖNIG

I look at your pinned post and you said you write angst

CAN I GET A ONE SHOT, HC OR WHATEVER YOU WANT REALLY WITH LIKE KÖNIG ARGUING WITH HIS S/O? BUT LIKE they're arguing and he ends up saying something really mean. Good old hurt/comfort or hurt/no comfort, do what you deem fit 👀

CAUSE IM TIRED OF SEEING SHY UWU BOI KÖNIG AROUND, I WANT THIS MAN TO DESTROY MY FEELINGS

This one was kinda self indulgent because I’d do the same thing König would do to really close friends and people I knew. 😕 This one is a sadder on so be aware.

Reader is Non-Binary!!!

Cw! Angst with no comfort, Arguing, abuse mentions

You and König had a great relationship, very open and loving. You guys always respected each other no matter what. But König had outbursts due to his anxiety. He constantly would belittle himself and look for comfort from you and usually you had no issue helping him out but It got tiring. He just got more and insecure about your relationship and himself that you just started to leave him to his feelings.

He’d get anxious, yell at you, start crying in your arms and say it’s all his fault. And it was this almost every single day. You tired to reassure him but it was like he was just using you for comfort not even like a real relationship anymore. You believed that he thought you were just his therapist. He’d barely ever kiss you hug you it just turned into yelling and sobbing and you turning into the ‘asshole’.

You were so fucking tired of it. And what do you know it happened again like usual. König was beating himself up about stuff yelling at you about it while you just sat there with a blank expression. When he finally calmed down he spoke shakily. “C-can I have a hug?” He asked sadly and you continued to give him that exhausted expression.

He was confused beyond belief, why weren’t you rushing to comfort him?

“No.” You stated turning the TV off. “W-wha- why?” You stood up. “Because I’m sick and tired of you just using me, we used to have such a great loving relationship now all you ever do is take your emotions out on me and expect me to comfort you!”

You rubbed your temples and you could tell he started to get mad. “I’m not u-using you! I didn’t say you couldn’t talk to me about anything-“ you cut him off “every-time I’d ever try to talk about anything you were always busy and didn’t have enough time for me. But when I’m doing something you can say whatever you want, I’m so done with it!” You shout angrily.

“B-but you can’t just-“ you cut him off again “No just shut the fuck up for five seconds! I understand you have problems and struggles and I have no issue with helping you but it’s become to the point where all you ever do is yell at me to make yourself feel better than leave me with a headache and heartache.”

He begins to cry while you can do nothing but glare at him. “We need to take a break, if you can’t see what you’re doing is wrong than the last thing I need is to be in a relationship with you.” You grab your phone. “Get your shit and get out, I’ll call you a taxi. When you’ve finally decided to not be an asshole you can talk to me, now go!” He drops to the ground sobbing uncontrollably on the ground holding onto your leg as he begs for forgiveness.

You kick him off making him stumble back. “If you don’t hurry up I’ll also add a restraining order to the list, now go. Get. Your. Stuff. Or I will set it on fire.” He slugs himself up sadly still crying as he goes to get his stuff. You turn the TV back on scrolling through whatever is on. He comes back down a few minutes later with his eyes all red sad. You look at your phone. “Taxi’s right around the corner go wait outside.” You speak emotionlessly.

He sniffles as the bright glaring lights of a car show up. You stand up putting your hand out. “Keys.” He whimpers not wanting to give them up. You yank his keys out his hand taking the one to your house. “Go.” He cries weakly walking towards the taxi. As soon as he sits down in the car you slam the door shut.

You sighed tiredly. You looked around the house, at the pictures of you and him. You both were so happy, but not anymore.

#könig x y/n #könig x male reader #König x NB reader #König #cod mw22 #call of duty

216 notes · View notes

naviamin · 4 months

Text

𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎 + 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎 + 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 ★ “SINISTER”

✿ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: graphic depictions of violence, mentions of gore/blood, vomiting, mentions of vomit, panic/anxiety attack, manipulative arlecchino, mentions of betrayal, upset lynette, no mentions of lyney and freminet, lore accurate arlecchino, implied mentions of pedophilia (not directed at lynette), slight implications of misogyny/weak woman.

✿ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: hihi! my first ACTUAL writing based post on here, hope you enjoy TvT. But before we begin, I wanna say something this is not a ship one shot AND this is not in the genshin impact verse! also ty to @theshinazugawaslut for helping me edit this 🤍 go check out their works and show them support! that’s all for now, i hope u all enjoy <3

Lynette is still. So still. She stands and watches her father—no, a monster— take the life of a man. It's a selfish act in and out of itself. To kill someone.

Lynette is aware that the man is not the greatest of men; he is a man who worked hand in hand with evil. The man is a coward. The lowest of the lowest. He is happiest when hurting people, innocents; especially young women. Woman like Lynette. Women of small stature, women with nimble fingers, women with thin legs—women that could fit perfectly in the palm of his hand; the size of a snack, something to eat. Something to rip apart with teeth so sharp that-

Girls like Lynette are entertainment to him. Pretty little things to suck the blood right out off when there was no water. Just so he could watch them cower, watch them shrivel up beneath his feet.

But...

Lynette never knew someone could go grey, never knew what it meant to become a corpse, never knew what grey meant until today.

She watches the man writhe and scream in pain that went beyond simple agony.

The torture just went on and on. Endless.

At some point, beyond this grey expanse of time, the man begged to be released.

Arlecchino seemingly got upset with this simple request, and so she snatched his eyeball right out of his eyesocket. She even made a show to crush it between her black fingers, all until the eye was split into two parts of mush.

Lynette watches as the man held the empty space that once held his eye, letting out a shriek so loud—it sounded inhumane, the sort of sound a dog would make; like a dog being ran over. Lynette swore she had heard a crash of some sort. The man is hurting and... and all Lynette could do was just stand there.

She couldn't focus, she didn’t know what to focus on. The crimson blood staining her father’s once pristine white shirt? The thick, foggy haze of scarlet, like misted blood spray? All the different shades of red she could count from just one man?

The sight is grim, gory, and absolutely wretched, and seeing her saviour, the woman she calls—called—her father standing above it, was just... despicable.

Though at the time, she would've just said stammered and told you she was scared.

And the sounds she is making... Eerie.

Eerie in the way that Lynette could not put a finger on it, just wrong.

They sounded wrong—the sadistic glint in cruel eyes as Arlecchino’s actions ooze from her monstrous noises.

Like an animal.

She growls as she rips the flesh of every last bit of her prey. Greedy, like a lone wolf; she enjoys every piece of meat that she rips of the bruised bone, malice hot against her teeth.

This was all so wrong—a woman, a woman?

No...this was different.

The sounds were so terrible—they were so wrong—like a clock going the wrong way, maybe a fork scratching across a glass plate.

Each sigh, each grunt, each god-awful noise that came out her lips was nothing but a sound of murder amongst blood-curdling screams.

Arlecchino is malevolence herself.

A great, natural evil.

A natural disaster—like a the fiery depths of a volcano or the deafening sound of a merciless tsunami.

She is a great sinister.

A true embodiment of the word villan.

To be the antagonist. To be the bad guy—anything disastrous, anything twisted, anything utterly sick and inhumane—Arlecchino simply is.

She is vile, so vile, and so sickly that she began to smell putrid... the acid in Lynette’s stomach starts to churn—thicken—like a witch brewing a nasty spell in her cauldron.

Her stomach begins to growl, almost scratching against her inner skin. How awful. It's an odd feeling that Lynette hasn’t had for quite a while.

She last had this feeling when... when... oh... She was gonna be sick.

Lynette felt herself go green, acidic, felt her skin grow sick from the sight.

She knew she is a colour that no human should ever be. She grew more ill as she hears the snap of a vein. It's disgusting. She had to look away then. She hears it again—a loud snap, then a bang—and when she looks at the horror in front of her, she couldn’t quite comprehend what the man had lost this time.

Was it a limb?

Or perhaps... oh.

Oh.

No... no... no... it couldn’t be... no... this wasn’t her father. This wasn’t her father. This wasn’t her father. This wasn’t her father.

(And at this moment everything made sense. This isn’t Lynette’s father).

All those emotions, all that fear, that rage forcefully ripped its way out of Lynette, ejecting out foul somethings and bile from her mouth.

Lynette fell to her knees, looking at the gooey puddle of her own vomit below her. Rotten.

Sweat clung to her forehead as she groans. Her throat felt as if it had been shredded apart. Left panting on the floor, she listens to sounds of screaming. The screaming now sounding a little distant; far, far away. Perhaps that was better. A cold distance. A nice, cold distance.

(A nice, cold distance. A distance like the shadows beneath you. Nice. Unreachable. Black. Even though it wouldn’t last long, Lynette enjoyed the moment, the pool of sick below her entwined in such a horrible memory.)

Then it started all over again. Lynette gasped for breath as she felt her sweat become solid against her forehead. The sounds of skin clashing, scratching becoming sickening.

The distance closed in. Gone.

What a sad existence... Lynette thinks. Her father, brutally torturing someone a few feet in front of her while she cowers and shakes in front of her own... self... her vomit. Doesn’t her father know how much Lynette hates to vomit? Has she forgot? No... but Arlecchino would never forget. She promised... she had promised! Why must Lynette hang her head over her own... why must life be unfair?

Why is life so unfair...? Is the world shaped—made—to make woman feel inferior? Why did that man come near Lynette; near other young, sweet, innocent girls. Why must this happen? Why...?

Lynette’s head is a even bigger mess than that of the man before her, though perhaps such a thought is cruel.

Her vision even worse than the eyeless man. Black, splotchy dots fill her vision. Focusing then not. An array of bright colours controll her sight; grey and then becoming a kaleidoscopic rainbow. Like those sweets Lynette used to eat as she layed upon... nevermind.

Lynette’s arms go weak. They snap. The floor comes to her first, crashing mercilessly into her face. Her sick bubbles against her cheek, in front of her lips as she breathes against it. And the smell.. oh. A nauseating stench that burnt her nostrils.

Oh, she really hates vomit. She really does. It’s so... smelly and has bits in it. Oh, she doesn’t wanna be sick again. And that man won’t stop screaming... why won’t he stop yelling..?!

Lyentte has to speak. To tell her father... Arlecchino... that sinister to stop. To make it stop. Like she did all those years ago. Maybe she’ll cradle her, and sing songs to her. Oh, those beautiful memories. They aren’t distant... maybe Lynette can still reach them, if she reaches far enough...

Lynette’s brusied lips tear apart as she tries to scream. Her lips won’t divide, won't open.

They... they’re stuck! Her teeth chatter with cold fear as she tries to speak. The only sound she manages to make is a small cry, that even Lynette herself almost couldn’t hear. A swarm of wasps collects at the back of her throat. Buzzing. Loudly. Lynette despises wasps. Her throat full of ants, roaches, bees. Biting and stinging. Rendering her useless. Rendering her useless.

With each choke, with each failed whisper the anxiety rides up her spine like electricity.

Each breath, each sigh felt like a shock straight to her brain. The vomit acting like the water to the electricity riding through her body. Though riding was a soft word, perhaps obliterating was better.

(Opposites attract, her ass; they don’t, she knows that now. Arlecchino hasn’t even noticed her. How foolish was Lynette to believe a woman with eyes made of tar, deep, red crosses engraved in her eyes to show her sins, lips that stretched into such a large smile—how did Lynette think a woman with features like that could ever be trusted?)

“What is this...?”

It is like Lynette’s brain spoke for her. Because she doesn’t quite know how her vocal cords suddenly came to life after surrendering a long time ago.

For the first time in a while, a silence resounds in the dark room. But it isn’t a nice one. This silence speaks of untold horrors, of terrible outcomes, and of Arlecchino. The silence stretches out uncomfortably long.

Lynette feels herself cringe, her arms tingling, going lax. She takes a long, deep breath, coughing when she feels some of her vomit splatter against her. She breathes again, she forces herself to.

She doesn’t like this silence. Even if it can be broken by her shaky breathing, it is better than standing between reality and Arlecchino.

Lynette stops breathing loudly when she hears the shuffle of clothes. A loud clack resounds in the room; ear-piercing.

Arlecchino’s footsteps sound thunderous as she begins to approach Lynette. Like, she grew extra legs. What was just the clacking of heels against a marble floor, felt like an avalanche of feet. A stampede of frightened animals, running away. Lynette is the the only one left, laying on the ground as the others run in fright. She is left to face the ultimate predator by herself.

Arlecchino’s voice is gentle when she speaks but to Lynette, it feels more like a shriek. “Lynette...?”

Lynette doesn’t know why, but she sighs. Sighs so loudly, it clears her vision. She sighs again, feeling this awful feeling leave her body.

An abrupt sob rips through her throat. Unexpected tears roll down her eyes, mingling with vomit-stained floors.

Her sobs turn loud, booming.

Lynette begins to scratch against the floor, against her vomit. She feels the filth sink in between her thin fingers, beneath her once clean nails. Her cries turn so loud that the whimpering of the abused man turns inaudible. Her throat tears with each scream, but she still cries. She cries to her hearts content. Her whole body, her whole soul cries and screams with her. She screams like a toddler, she screams like a baby. She bangs her fists against her floor, watching her sick fly everywhere. But she doesn’t care, because, for once, crying feels relaxing.

Her cries speak for her, telling the story of her irritation, her agony, her betrayal. Lynette has no idea if Arlecchino is even listening, but the silence in the room is only filled with her despair. (So, Arlecchino must be...)

Lynette writhes in her own sort of pain. And she does that for what feels like centuries, but only a couple seconds actually pass. She brings herself to her knees, away from her sick. A few minutes ago, she would have loved that. But, not anymore.

“Why must you—why did you...” Lynette rasps, she breathes hard as she hangs her head back. Her chest heaves painfully as she gasps greedily for air. “Why did you hurt that man under my name?”

Lynette doesn’t even recognise her own voice. She sounds... different? Like... someone she knows.

“Because...” Arlecchino finally responds. And Lynette hopes she doesn’t finish, because she knows what exactly Arlecchino will say.

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

Nononononono... don’t say it.

Please please please... no... no... don’t say what you’re going to say.

“You’re my daughter.”

Lynette can practically hear the evil grin that Arlecchino wears on her face. She can picture that unforgiving smile—lips stretched into a wide grin, too large for a human face. The blood prior from the mans torture running down her face, her skin... the skin that Lynette used to kiss and poke...

When did times change?

When was Arlecchino ever so malicious? Lynette doesn’t remember. All she remembers are the hugs, the kisses, the word of affirmation. Those kind words that dripped with the sweetest honey, the kind of words that felt like walking through a field of pretty flowers. Every day with Arlecchino felt like receiving a bouquet of stunning red roses. Since when did the moment of now spent with Arlecchino feel so... sad? Were they always this lonely?

Lynette recalls any memory of good, but at this moment, she can’t. She just can’t. All she could do is cry. And she did. She cried for God knows how long.

She cried until she felt Arlecchino’s cold hands hovering above her head. Arlecchino’s hands, despite dripping with thick blood and other unknown substances, were soft and gentle when pulling Lynette’s head down.

Lynette lazily looked at her father... or whatever... before her. She didn’t know what to say or do, so she blinked.

The expression on Arlecchino’s face was unreadable. No one knows what she will say, what she will do. So, Lynette sat still, let her head rest against Arlecchino’s hand as she waited for the surprise.

Arlecchino smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. It was fake. Maybe real. Who knows? But, it was probably fake. Knowing her.

Arlecchino took a deep sigh, and then her smile grew larger. She exhales roughly, and then bought her other hand to rest against the other side of Lynette’s face. Then she spoke. What it meant Lynette did not know, but she hopes it isn’t as bad as it sounds.

“You’re next.”

#𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #arlecchino #lynette #genshin impact #genshin arlecchino #genshin lynette #the fatui #genshin imagines #genshin oneshots #stories #oneshot #long one shot #dark fantasy #dark stories

20 notes · View notes

tremendum · 1 year

Text

be like me [v]

trust

pairing: din djarin x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her) rating: explicit for violence and sexual themes. (18+. mdni.) word count: 7.4k summary: there are few things in this galaxy that made Mando want to run, and you were one of them. because he is starting to see himself in you, and you in him. warnings: canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of violence, blood, and injury, reader gets injured, reader gets verbally sexually assaulted, slimy gross men, mentions of sexual themes, minor character death, attempted kidnapping lol, use of one Bacta shot so needles, lots of fluff like tooth rotting pining notes: here’s part 5! thanks for all the love, it makes me smile to see all the feedback ive been getting!! this chapter is kicking things up in the storyline a bit more, and ramping up to the next chapter! i hope yall enjoy, and as always feedback/reblogs/likes are v much appreciated! also let me know if your tag didnt work/if i missed u it got a little weird lol.

series masterlist previous next

★

your stay on Valara soured quicker than Eopie milk the moment your bounty was sealed into carbonite.

the moment he'd fastened off the bounty to his frozen fate, Mando was as silent as the day you'd met. you could feel the anger brewing beneath his armor, festering and boiling as you stand on doe-legs; your jaw clenches in anxiety as you watch him storm past you, helmet not so much as tilting in your direction as he slams his hand against the hydraulics to open the entrance to the Crest. "Mando, where are you going?" you ask, voice strong despite its retirement from the last forty-five minutes.

a helmet whips over to even with you, as if just remembering your presence. "I need to get more information about where the drop was. it was weeks ago, Zuca could be anywhere by now."

"okay, well-" you know you should mention whatever just happened, or maybe you shouldn't - you don't know what to do, Maker, everything happened so quick; your heart hasn't calmed down, you can feel his proximity still on your skin, his hand on your hip, the burning hand over your mouth... his thick thigh with its beskar casing against your aching cunt. every step you take is a reminder of the slick between your thighs, the absence of an orgasm leaving you foggy-brained and erratic. you shiver, a mixture between desire and fear - there's a bounty on your head. yours. and with your face in the galactic system and your Mandalorian shadow, almost anyone could find you.

"no. stay here." he commands it. you barely move your mouth to speak before he's pointing at you sternly, "don't try to argue. it's not safe."

you know he's right, but you furrow your brows, "exactly, which is why we should be leaving." you glare. is there even a brain behind that tin helmet? your chest heaves with a vicious rage; maybe it's your newfound freedom, or perhaps its something entirely different inside of you. but there's a clear change, you can feel it. you've felt it in the last few weeks.

you're just so angry all the time - full of rage, full of the red hot desire for revenge that keeps guiding your mouth and hands before your brain can even consider the options.

"were you not just in the same bathroom as I was?" Mando snaps, voice angry as he points out of the Crest towards the direction of town, "I know you heard what they said in there. they'll be looking for you. I need to protect the the kid, and it's a lot easier to get things done when I'm not also dealing with you." his voice is his regular, deep rumble, but it's angry and laced with something you can't recognize.

you have to fight the flustered feelings in your chest at his mention of the bathroom from the cantina, but as he finishes his sentence, anger flares ruthlessly in your chest as you take a step forward, fists tightening.

weeks ago, had any of this happened, you'd have cowered, sat back, just let it happen. you'd have simply closed your eyes with a deep breath and dreamt of the day where you find your family; now, you're boiling over, the anger making you wish you could snap his neck; put a laser straight through his stupid kriffing helmet visor.

"do you really think they'll be anywhere other than the outpost? Batuu is not that big, you told me that yourself." you take staggering breaths to calm yourself, confused as to why he wasn't listening. "for someone who hunts bounty for a living, you sure aren't trying very hard to catch it."

Mando takes a menacing step forward, closer to you. "I'm trying to keep you alive. which, if you can't tell, is not the easiest thing."

you're seeing red. "well, sorry if I'm not more grateful. you're only keeping me alive to use as insurance for your precious credits." you spit, the words feeling foreign on your tongue; "collateral, right, Mandalorian? some bounty hunter you are." you shouldn't be insulting his profession, but there's nothing that can stop the rage that boils within you. every second you stay on this moon is one less second you'll have with your family.

you turn away, intending to storm up into the ship's body and away from the infuriating man. but his words that follow just ignite the flames even more, "you don't know the first thing about hunting."

"then TEACH ME!" you all but scream, turning around again, irritation boiling over and spilling through your voice. you feel strong emotions hitting your eyes at your mention of collateral: yes, at first it'd seemed like this was true, but recently it'd felt, perhaps, as though he'd kept you around because he liked your company. it just made it all the more painful as he grumbles out his next words, the wind of the night breeze ruffling his cape gently.

"i tried. but a few weeks out of the nest and you suddenly think you're invincible." his voice is maliciously sarcastic, full of spite. it twists the blade of his words deep inside of you, corkscrewing viciously as you take a sharp breath.

"out of the nest?!" you snarl, wheeling back around towards him. how dare he make it sound like you were just some sweet little innocent girl who stumbled too far away from home - how dare he insinuate anything about your life before him? "are you kidding?" you're shocked, overwhelmed with the emotions that swirl in your gut, a sour taste in your mouth.

the two of you are like bombs. lighting each other's fuse and then dousing each other in kerosene, just to see who blows first. it was a fire lit the moment you'd stepped into that stall in the cantina; he'd coaxed feelings out of you that you'd never even imagined before... you shudder. you don't understand why it's gotten so bad recently, why you're so frustrated - but he's been just as bad.

despite yourself, a tear of frustration slides down your cheek. quickly you whip it away, holding your ground as Mando crosses his arms, "you know-" "-no, stop it!" you interject. your fingers wish to throw something at him, kick him - or hit him without breaking your fist. "fuck, Mando," you feel your eyes well up with emotion as you throw your worst look his way. "you've never trusted me. I know Zuca and the Ark'uz'iman. did you ever consider that I might have some good insight for you?"

it's quiet, and in the silence you can't held but shake your head, the anger simmering back down as you stare in wait. but it's Mando, and he's never been one to apologize. something in you deflates. you don't know why you ever allowed yourself to get your hopes up about him.

he's a weapon. a killer. he could never care for you.

Mando takes a breath. "fine, we'll go to Batuu. but I taught you how to wield a blaster," he shoves the hilt of it into your chest harshly, as he moves towards the ladder of the hull, "so you better use it this time."

you glare at the back of his head as he walks away.

Batuu's outpost is as deteriorated as your spirits when you and Mando trudged into town.

the rain leaks through the rafters that cover the market and dribbles down onto the cobblestone, the quiet bustling of the natives hushed and calm. lanterns are strung up above your heads, twinkling and reflecting onto the wet stone as though they were little stars. the market must have once been fruitful, lively - but it's now riddled with hushed whispers, empty vendor kiosks, Batuuian rats, and old stains of mysterious maroon splatters.

"look." Mando says stiffly, nodding up towards a rickety sign that swings in the rain; you have to fight the downpour to look up even through the partial cover of shelter. there's the insignia of the very syndicate you'd been tethered to for years, sitting plainly on a rusted metal, brazen and in the open. a huff escapes your lips, dry and unimpressed: it's insulting how little they tried to hide themselves in this outpost.

"subtle." you mutter to yourself, shaking your head. Ark'uz'iman was once strong, but in the years since the fall of the Empire, it'd also fallen from its grace; there was nobody to hold guard in the entrance to the building at all as you follow Mando through the alleyway and duck into the small hall that leads into the building.

your fingers are tight around the blaster at your thigh, swallowing back the warmth of your throat when Mando mutters, "stay close to me."

you roll your eyes, about to mutter something witty back before he stops in his tracks, coming upon a large room that holds crates of galactic goods; your eyes graze over the weapons stacked in the crates, strewn between canned bantha meat and other smuggled delicacies.

there are voices in the room, too. they're subtle, quiet, and you have to strain yourself to hear them. "there's six of them." Mando says quietly, and your brows barely furrow before you remember he's got heat sensors in his helmet.

your throat goes dry at the thought of him using his heat sensors - has he done it around you? could he tell how weak he made you between your legs when he so much as spoke to you?

you shake out of it as he motions for you to follow him, his helm poking over to corner briefly before turning back to you, "none of them are Zuca. they're all wearing green."

you nod, not surprised. you doubt he'd still be here, after all. he's probably out in another planet, indulging in whatever sins he can get his hands on. or, perhaps, he's out there somewhere looking for you too.

"the green jackets are for smugglers. none of them will know where he is." you whisper back, but a call from the room makes your head whip back, "hey!"

as if on command, Mando whips around the wall and starts shooting; you're frozen for a second, the fear gripping you like a vice - you'd never really fought someone yet besides Mando; and you know that no matter how much he denies it, he goes easy on you.

but these people are unforgivable; the scum of the galaxy, fueling hate and agony and danger and despair.

the thought alone springs you into action, sliding yourself around in order to latch your sight onto one of the men in the room shooting at Mando; your first shot bounces off the wall and explodes a crate of jargon fruit cans.

gritting your teeth, your face heats in embarrassment, dodging a shot that singes a few strands of your hair. your next shot in return hits the wall but then reflexes into the man's back, sending him yelling to the ground. he's out in an instant, your arm buzzes as your chest constricts - you just took someone's life.

a grunt of pain snaps you out of it again as Mando's arm jerks back, a shot taking a rip out of his flight suit at the elbow. you don't hesitate as your blaster's triggered, hitting Mando's shooter right in the chest.

the one to your left starts to charge towards you, catching you off guard as you shoot at the one near Mando. his arms are strong as they grab you, lifting you off the ground. panic floods through you at the feeling of his arms on you and you let out a scream, groaning as your breath leaves you.

you try to jab backwards towards the man's chest, but he lifts you and pulls back, effectively pushing hard into your chest cavity, a sickening crack following a searing pain that blossoms in your ribs. you let out a strangled, pained yelp, struggling to breath as the pain spreads, licking your throat, your stomach, your arms. the room smells like smoke and blaster residue, the other man shooting at Mando and lighting the room up with blaster red as the shots ricochet off of his beskar. you're panicking as you struggle in the man's arms - you can't suck in a breath, it hurts, so bad- (you have to remember to breathe, cyar'ika.)

in a split second, you suck in a sharp inhale before slamming your heel down hard against the man's foot, the cracking noise sickening against your ragged breath. there's a chink in his hold as he reels from the pain and you kick back again, hitting his shin this time. it's a good thing this man wasn't wearing the beskar you'd grown accustomed to fighting against.

you fall away from him, sliding towards Mando's legs as you roll, protecting your side as much as you can. you grab your blaster as you slide, and when you stand, the man who'd held you is crumpled on the ground with a shot through his forehead. your chest throbs along with your heartbeat, the pain making your vision swerve for a moment. you gasp to catch your breath, each shallow gulp ringing pain down your side.

the last one standing raises his blaster; but as your eyes take in his face, the excersized flush drains from your face.

you recognize him instantly. "Vros." your voice is strong and cuts through the droplets of water that trickle down the gutters outside. just when he looks at you, you pull the trigger, barely adjusting your aim.

instead of hitting his chest, his own pistol flies from his grasp; he lets out a strangled yell of pain as he clutches his hand, the smoke rising calmly from the wound in his palm. Mando kicks back the pistol as it skitters towards you both and you tuck it into your waistband.

Vros. one of Zuca's subalterns; he'd been based at Csilla's quarters for years with you, one of the largest confidants of your boss and certainly one of the most disgusting men you've ever known. shivers run down your spine, but you're shocked when you search for the fear you know would be instilled in you, instead coming up with red, hot anger.

Mando's blaster is aimed at Vros's icy blue head as the man's eyes land on you.

"oh, my my." Vros nods his head as his eyes take in your figure, "so what they say is true."

you don't say anything, your heart thundering as your hand squeezes the pistol. Mando is unmoving beside you, a statue of cold resilience, of patience - he was letting you take the reins.

at your silence, Vros grins, gesturing to you as if beckoning a lover. "i've missed you, pretty girl. i was wondering if you'd really left Csilla." he coos, and it's slimy as it slicks through his mouth. you feel sick.

"where is he?" you grit your teeth. all you see in your mind is a blaster shot between the eyes of Zuca.

"he's heartbroken." he chides, tsk-ing as he shakes his head, "he's been searching for you. he's going out to your old stomping grounds, you know." his eyes glint maliciously.

your eyes widen; Zuca? on your home planet? your heart strikes cold with fear: he knows where your family is; what if he hurts them? is he going to use them as collateral for you?

your heart flutters with yearning, desire... something else. you resist the urge to look up at Mando, yet you're still comforted by his warmth, the proximity of your two bodies. your stomach twists as you realize the burning smell is coming from Mando's arm wound, just to your right.

"what planet?" you push, your pistol almost shaking with the anger that flows through your veins. but it's like you aren't saying anything, the way his eyes move over you, a grin on his face.

"you clean up nicely, don't you? you want to come home with me tonight, girl?" he smirks at you, eyes dark. but you don't cower; no, you fume. "Vros, where the fuck is he?" you ask evenly, hand leveled with the pistol down the barrel of his nose.

but you're ignored, as always. Vros's eyes widen in understanding at his one-sided conversation. "oh, so you're... you're his. i see." his eyes flicker from you to Mando's looming figure. something sour swirls in your gut. "let me have her for a few hours, at least?" he smirks as he boldly asks Mando. Vros's words make you grit your teeth; want to squeeze his neck until it snaps.

at Vros' prompting, Mando takes a step forward, concealing half of your figure. pressing forward, Mando's weapon threatens the man's skin with unwavering calmness. you can feel the anger that swirls up around Mando in plumes as he nearly growls, "where is Zuca?"

but Vros still doesn't even bat an eye, instead craning his neck to catch a glimpse of you yet again from behind the concealment of Mando's wide body. "are you sure, Mando?" he looks to him, "I'd pay you handsomely for 'er. girls that look like her are worth hundreds of credits, even after i'm done with them-"

and then there's a loud sound, an echo of a blaster shot and a moment of a scream; then it's quiet, the breeze running cold through your veins.

Vros lays, lifeless, on the ground. Mando's blaster is smoking slightly as he lowers his arm - you can't tear your eyes away from the sickly smirk on Vros' lifeless body; the smile etched onto his blue face forever, grinning up at the stars.

you blink, deflating.

"you killed him." you state dumbly, anger starting to bubble up again in your chest. you look up at him as he turns to you, "why did you kriffing shoot him, Mando?" you yelp. he knew where Zuca was. he may have been your only chance.

it's silent for a moment, the anger radiating off of you both and onto each other. something in you twists as you swear you can see a glint from behind the mask.

"he wasn't going to tell us any more than he already had," he says simply. "he was spewing nonsense."

you swallow dryly. that's for sure.

your hands shake, the adrenaline of the fresh blood on your hands and your aching ribs causing tremors throughout your body. it doesn't go unnoticed by Mando. he says your name.

"are you okay?" he asks, hands jerking towards you before hesitating, hovering in the air awkwardly. they drop as quickly as they reached out, and it leaves you feeling colder than before.

you swallow the bile that sits heavy in your throat, pressing your lips together slightly before nodding, not trusting your voice. you drop to your knees to avoid his stare, unable to look at that pitying feeling emanating from his mask. it makes you squirm.

you rifle through Vros's dead body, trying to even your stuttering breaths as the pain throbs through you as you pull miscellaneous items out in search for anything that could hint as to where your home planet is. there's a fob in his pocket that you pull out quickly, pocketing the credits alongside it. Mando's staring at you, and you stare back, "what? it can't hurt to have some extra pocket money." you defend.

"show me that." he says, palm out stretched towards you and the fob you hold. you simply place it in his hand, standing back up to your full height to examine it with him.

there's an etched few symbols that you recognize faintly in your mind; it's associated with lights, a festival - your home. "this is- this is from my home." you say, surprised at the void in your voice where affection and yearning should be.

Mando looks at you, "how are you sure?"

you swallow. "i'm not." you admit honestly, the vulnerability leaking through your features, gnawing on your lip. this isn't the first time you've wondered if he's annoyed with the burden of your amnesia, but you realize now that the sweet sting of knowing it'd be so much easier if Zuca had never taken those memories from you is no longer just yours to bear. somehow, it almost makes you feel better despite the guilt that Mando can carry some of this weight alongside you. if he chooses.

the fob turns over in his orange-tipped gloves. the leather is cracked, and the fabric is covered in jet grease, blaster residue, and a blue smudge that looks suspiciously like the Kid's breakfast. his flight suit is a dark, deep brown, creased from a lifetime of work; your eyes trail up slowly until they land on the wound that has cauterized but is red and angry nonetheless. a strike in your stomach pangs you: you were so fond of him... you almost flush in embarrassment.

"-we still have some bacta in the Crest, right?" you say then, eyes not moving from where they observe his arm. your ribs are sharp as you take a breath, but you keep your eyes away from his gaze - the muscles underneath his left vambrace clench and flex as he turns over the fob in his hand.

"I can tend to it later." he dismisses you easily, as though his injury was a splinter and not a shot wound. you shake your head at his pain tolerance, but you gulp. you're afraid to admit your fears of the break in your ribs - was it residue from the physical trauma you endured back at Csilla? were you still afraid of Mando, after everything? did you just want to prove to him that you aren't a burden?

you lick your lips and swallow, knowing you can fight through it and possibly sneak off to find some healing ointment for yourself on your way back to the Crest. "maybe they have some information stowed here." you suggest, dropping it in hopes that he wont notice the pain laced onto your face.

"it better not be DNA encrypted." he mutters, and you huff, wincing slightly at the sharp shooting of pain through your chest. your hand holds your side as you walk towards the hall, blaster raised, "you're telling me, Mando. I'm done pricking my fingers for this piece of shit."

"I'm not going back to Ryloth with you ever again, that's for sure." Mando gently jokes as he kicks away the weapons and wipes the blood off his cuirass. you roll your eyes when his back is turned, hiding your grin as you slink around the room, grabbing some cans of food to stuff into your satchel.

"there's something here." Mando's voice calls from behind you, sifting through several papers that look like receipts on the table next to a crate of automatic rifles. you find your way back to him with winded breaths, sharp pain stinging your chest. you grit your teeth through it - how the hell did Mando just walk around so normally with such wounds all the time? you come up beside him, blinking down at the full paper he holds in his grip: just to be met with your face staring back up at you. "woah." you say dumbly, reading over your own file, as seen by the Ark'uz'iman syndicate. your name is up top, followed by your name day, height, age, an image of yourself; your throat dries up as you keep reading.

Planet of Purchase: Daluuj.

"Daluuj." you echo the words you read. "that's where i'm from..." you swallow thickly, emotions swirling around in your head heavily. your tongue feels heavy, but a sharp pain in your ribs makes you gasp.

Mando's head turns down towards you, but you avert your gaze, grabbing the file from his hands, folding it to stick into your waistband. "can we- can we get back to the Crest?" you ask meekly, the sudden weight for the day pulling you down, drooping your eyelids.

his hand falls onto your forearm with no hesitation this time; your eyes snap to the touch, surprised at the sudden contact. it's warm and feather-light, almost timid in nature. "are you okay?" his voice is soft when it hits your ears, sending a warmth striking down into your stomach.

you nearly shiver at the tenderness laced into his words, looking up at him through your lashes, "yeah. I kind of- I think that guy may have broke my rib. it's fine." you nod, shrugging lightly, playing off the pain as casual.

he's stoic, hand resting on your arm as he stares down. the visor is dark, but you can feel the concern ebbing from him, as if his brows are drawn, eyes searching to assess your injury. you almost squirm under his attention. "come on, we have a Bacta shot back home." he draws away from you, making a beeline for the exit of the building. on his way out, he pockets two smuggled grenades for himself, holstering them on his belt; though his hesitation in the threshold of the entrance does not go unnoticed by you as he waits for you gently to catch up to him.

you bite your lip; he was going to give you a Bacta shot? those are terribly expensive. you follow him, sticking close to his side as you walk out of the Ark'uz'iman building.

but you don't notice the hooded figure's reflection in the rainy cobblestone until you're being tackled to the ground, a net smothering your body.

you can't help the scream of pain that escapes you as the force of another body smacks you into the pavement, but you don't intend for it to be his name. "Mando!"

you barely see through the net as Mando's soon shot with the same kind of netting as yours, a grunt as he smacks into the side of a market building. "dank ferrik!" he groans, struggling to fight against the restraints. you moan in pain, the sharp pain aching your whole body as you struggle against the person above you; they lay on top of you, struggling to force bindings onto you through the net. you kick hard, you head-butt, throw elbows, groaning as you struggle.

hands grab at your sides roughly, pulling at your net and slamming you back down hard; you see stars float in your vision at the impact on your ribs and you can't breathe at all - kicking, shoving; your mind reels to remember everything Mando's taught you.

finally, your hands grasp the dagger that lives on your hip, unsheathing it and swiping it across the figure's body near your head as hard as you can. your knife gets stuck in something hard and you can't help the cry from your throat at the sickening feeling of warm blood, dripping down from the perpetrator onto your own face.

the dagger stays sheathed in the body’s neck as it is thrown off of you with a force of a gundark. your scream ripples through the empty cobblestone street, spitting furiously as you try to keep the foreign blood out of your mouth and your lungs full of air.

hands grab you and you kick hard, your knee contacting hard metal that sends echoes of agony throughout your shin - beskar. "M-Mando, fuck." you whimper, pain searing though you as your companion pulls apart the net that suffocates you, his own still caught by his legs and hip.

he shushes you, looking around as you blink the pain and stars from your eyes, hands shaking to help him rip apart the net. "he was a hunter." Mando explains, looking back from the slumped, lifeless body to your right. "he had our pucks."

you're dizzy, exhausted, and you let your head fall against the wet cobblestone, eyes closed as you tilt up towards the weeping sky; fuck, you needed help. you were hurt, and you needed help. "M-Mando," you gasp out with a wince, opening your eyes and craning to look at where he crouches next to you, "it hurts." you sound broken, and you hate it. the man's blood flows off of your face and throat in streaks, the hot, thick liquid mixing with the light and viscous rainfall as they swirl into the street. you spit his blood from your mouth, fighting the rising bile.

"we're going back. can you stand?" he asks, leaning back as you try to sit up, a sharp pain stuttering your movement until you wail, jerking back in pain. "fuck," you hiss lowly, hands shaking as they come up to your abdomen. "sorry." you groan, shaking your head.

Mando's glove falls onto your shoulder, the touch warm and unprecedented; you nearly jump as your eyes fall onto his mask. droplets of rain slick down his helmet, curving into the contours of false cheekbones; your eyes follow their small trails and you wonder if they curve into his skin, along the phantom jawline you'd so dreamt of in the dark hours of the night.

"okay." his hands slowly move, snaking under your knees and shoulders gently, "I'll have to carry you. hold on to me and try not to move."

his voice is gentle in his instructions as he starts to lift up, your groans cutting through the trickling of rain gutters; the outpost was miserable and desolate, and your cries fell upon empty alleys.

you don't remember much from the end of the walk back - your hand streaked with someone's blood upon his contoured helmet, holding on as if it was tethering you to this realm; everything fades fast until the sway back and forth of Mando's pace and the thrum of his heart against your cheek carries you into Mando's quarters, strewn onto the bed.

Mando hoped you couldn't tell how badly his hands were shaking.

you lay now, spread before him on top of his charcoal sheets - an image he'd seen in his mind countless times the last few weeks, though always in this circumstance.

in his mind's eye, you'd always be writhing around in pleasure, face flustered as he took you apart; methodical, slowly, passionately. your hair would be splayed out on his sad, flat pillow, your eyes shining with pleasure, ecstasy.

but as he looks down at you, all your eyes hold is pain.

Mando, you breathe out. his breath hitches as he leans down, setting the med pack next to you; he reminds himself to thank you later for replenishing your stock of medical supplies on the last run.

"I am going to have to put it into your ribs." he says matter-of-factly, eyes searching your features for any more fear, but only finding acceptance. you nod sharply at him through your shallow breaths, your chest rising and falling sharply, "okay," you say smally.

"I trust you."

his chest flutters at your words and he's thankful you can't see him blush as he nods at you, pulling out the prep swabs, alcohol, sterilized needle.

despite his worry over your injury, he was so proud of you.

you hadn't even hesitated when you'd ran into all those members of the syndicate; you'd fought and avoided and dank ferrik, you'd even remembered to go for the feet and shins. and then, after he'd been shot - you'd stood and not hesitated to shoot the man who had shot him.

Mando watches you, the way your eyelashes flutter closed, the breath that puffs from your plumped lips through sweat-flushed cheeks; he swallows roughly. everything seemed so normal, you'd barely batted an eye after killing three men; those same hands which had trembled just a moon ago when they'd first held a blaster in their soft grasp.

he can't help the shuddering breath as he realizes it: you were becoming like him.

it sends anxiety through his whole body, the crushing realization that you had been imbrued with the burden of another's life. your eyes, bright and more alluring than any sight in the whole galaxy: now dimmed with the pain that comes with his line of work.

he'd broken countless ribs in his time, and it twists his stomach to see you go through it for the first time. you were corrupted by him. he sees that anger in you now - it's in your face, your eyes... there's a vengeful anger that spits words from your mouth when he tells you what to do, there's a stubbornness in your body when a threat poses itself. and then, there was Vros, the slime that Mando had lost control of and shot dead before they could get any more information. he shudders slightly, remembering the rage that boiled inside of him at the words he'd spoken about you.

(girls that look like her are worth hundreds of credits, even after i'm done with them.)

the memory of it makes him clench his fists, resisting the urge to destroy. it makes him sick, the way that he couldn't control himself. you are dangerous for him, and you have no clue.

as he gently coaxes your shirt up, coursing over the softness of your bare stomach, your hand falls onto his forearm fleetingly before falling to the cot below you.

he sees the goosebumps on your skin under his gloves and it twists his heart even further: he'd been attracted to you immediately when he'd first seen you, though he knows he'd started to have feelings for you after only a few days of your company; that hurt him, it scared him -

there are few things in this galaxy that made him want to run, and you were one of them. because he is starting to see himself in you, and you in him.

you're staring at him again.

it's weird when you do it, so openly, so devotedly, as if you couldn't bare to look away. as if you could see him through the mask; a stupid thought, he knows, but one he liked to indulge in nonetheless.

trust was a hard thing to find in this life. it was flimsy, fleeting, unreliable - but one thing that's been constant is you. you're changing, he can feel it, but throughout it all, all of the fear, the anger, the ambivalence, the arguments that seem to bubble up daily between you and his clashing personalities; through it all, you were there.

he's realized after saving the kid that even someone like him, with a life like his, needs love.

and you are a testament to that.

Mando knows his strength, he knows that he could plow through a crowd to get to what he needed; but as he looks down at you in pain, near tears on his bed because of him, it's simple. it's clear.

he'd put the entire universe to the blade for you. every time.

you're stuck in the world of your discomfort until Mando's gentle tone cuts through the ship. the kid is in his pram, wide eyes peeking over the edge in concern. you smile to him weakly, cooing softly. his head tilts back in response.

"are you ready?" is all he says, voice low. you swallow, wiping the sheen of sweat from your brow, "yes." you respond, breathing shallowly. he nods once, moving to set down the sterilized needle onto the side table before moving to pull at his gloves.

your eyes widen as the first one is removed, a hand that nearly glows in the damp room in its bareness. his skin is tanned, the same tone as the skin of his back you'd seen last; your breath leaves you this time not from pain, no, from wonder.

you don't say anything until Mando's flicking the needle, testing the Bacta inside it. "you don't have to." you say gently. he doesn't have to. you know he could just as well give you this shot without taking his gloves off, he's certainly done everything else with them. no, he's chosen to take of his glove. to touch you.

his helmet cants towards you, "I know I don't have to." he's sure. the butterflies flutter through your torso and it makes you bite back a sheepish grin, flustered by his kindness.

you're helpless as his bare hands touch you. you're putty, pliant, giddy, full of wonder as the warmth of his dry hands cascade over your shivering body, gently easing the bacta shot into your ribs and soothing over it easily. you barely feel the sharp pinch as he injects you.

"there, done." he leans over you slightly, until you open your eyes and see him looming over you. "it should start to work pretty soon." he nods.

you send him a smile, a flush blossoming through your chest at the silence. he doesn't move, just staring down at you in peace. "so how'd I do? I shot someone." you say, the healing medicine of the Bacta shot soon coursing energy through you. you gently scoot, making room for Mando if he so chooses to sit next to you.

he actually laughs at your words, you can see it in his shoulders and the way he shakes is head in amusement. it's a deep rumble that soothes your stomach and makes your cheeks heat up. "you did. a few people."

you lift one shoulder, still breathing shallow as the pain starts to dissipate gently, slowly. "I'm sorry, though. that I got hurt. I just-" you cut yourself off, embarrassed. but Mando's patient for you, always. "i just thought maybe..." maybe you'd be proud of me, for how I fought. but you don't say that, "that if I wasn't there, you wouldn't have had to use the shot on me. and maybe you could have avoided getting hurt if I'd done better."

your eyes fall pointedly to his arm, where the skin is still marred.

"no, ka'ra, it's not your fault." he shakes his head, leaning down to his knees. you swallow as his helmet is evened with your eyes, kneeling down to your height. your handprint, crusted maroon with the blood of another man, is still smeared down the front of his helmet and it makes your heart thump in pain. "you did well. I'm glad I had you by my side."

neither of you say anything; the air is tender, thick with the memories of the last few days and everything that's happened - you briefly wonder if Mando's even slept in the last cycle.

but soon, your breath catches in shock. Mando's slowly reaching out to thumb a loose strand of your hair, smoothing it gently and snugly near your temple.

his bare hand, the skin tingling against the intimate touch of your head; you're breathless, afraid to move to as to startle him. it's like sighting a rare, desired animal while hunting in the woods. his hand is warm and bare against you and it blankets you in a peaceful comfort.

calmed by his gesture, your eyes flicker away, up towards the small ledge that holds the few items Mando keeps in his room: a spare handlight, one of the kid's llittle toy balls, and-

your heart skips.

the Sable, just next to his cot.

it sits, polished next to the other items, of which have caught a layer of dust. but the Sable, it sits proud and clean, as though he's cared for it all these weeks. he'd accepted your gratitude, he'd accepted your culture even though you didn't truly know it. you had no true religion, no culture, just a family waiting out there for you. and he'd accepted that. cherished it.

you want to cry.

your swell of emotion must be misinterpreted by your companion as his touch lingers; his hand drops from your space gently. "look at me." he says gently. though just as his hand slips away, you catch it in your own grasp; warm skin on warm skin, the electric touch of two beings who long for a connection in a vast and isolated universe.

you yearn to do it, to feel your lips pressed against his knuckles; to express your gratitude for everything he's done, despite how you sometimes treated him - but you don't.

instead, your breath hits his hand warm and heave, a breath of thank you barely a whisper as it passes your devoted lips. he doesn't pull his hand away until you release it, and you finally break the moment by looking back up at him.

"you did amazing, c'yare. and we know where to go. we will wait until you are healed." he says gently, affection lacing his words. it makes you grin, nodding a watery agreement. stars, you needed to rest.

amazing, he'd said. you want to mention the Sable. you should, you should tell him- you should tell him how fucking much he means, how important he and the kid are, how - how this is the one place in the universe you feel safe. but it doesn't allow itself to fall from your lips - not yet.

"i wish i could be more like you." you say softly instead. you're feeling better and less in pain by the second, and the soft breath that falls from Mando's modulator eases your shoulders and swirls in your stomach. "no, you don't." he says gently, a lullaby that rocks you into a deep affection as he moves, rising up from crouching in front of you to sit next to you. he leaves a sizable space between you, his thigh not touching yours.

staring down, your lips quirk up into a half-smile. despite your injuries, you can't believe you found out where your family is. you were going to finally find them. you don't let the tears fall, for fear that Mando may have a heart attack thinking he'd upset you again.

"I guess," you start, turning to look at him as you pull the med kit towards you to begin your applications on his arm wound, "despite it all, it was a good thing. I'm going home. thank you for teaching me."

Mando's pulling the child into his arm that is not occupied by your healing ministrations, "you are becoming a great fighter. I'm... I'm happy for you." you barely notice the lilt laced through his words.

"you can't have success without a hiccup, right?" you lick your lips, repeating something Mando had mumbled to you once last week when you'd been repairing the Crest, "so I guess you can't have glory without a little gore." pulling out bacta wipes and bandages, distracting yourself from your shaking hands as you prepare to help Mando dress his own wound.

it's silent, then with a huff of amusement, "that's why our faces are over every single bounty in this system, ka'ra."

and despite yourself you grin.

taglist: @toobsessedsstuff @tizylish @millersdjarin @cloufire @kalea-bane @daddy-long-legolas

@dontletyourchildrenwatchthis @ponyboys-sunsets @leithatnight @imobbssed

#din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #mandalorian #tremendum’s space cowboy✒️

111 notes · View notes