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powderblueblood · 4 months

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FOUR TIMES YOU WERE STRUCK INCAPABLE OF IMAGINING YOUR LIFE WITHOUT EDDIE MUNSON

(+ one, of the many, where he felt the same about you)

part of the hellfire & ice universe eddie munson x f!reader, reader is nicknamed lacy, you know the drill, minors dni only warnings are for fluff and eddie and lacy being cute and in denial word count: 2k tagging @chiefbonkpruneegg happy birthday pal <3 enjoy this nonsense

TRACK ONE: LET'S STICK WITH TELEVISION FOR TWO HUNDRED, ALEX

You and Eddie balance on either side of Ronnie Ecker's couch like faithful gargoyles, armed with soup and homework. Ronnie's caught the worst end of some green-gooed virus, so you two have taken it upon yourselves to deliver the necessities; tomato soup with extra hot sauce ("To snot out the demons," quoth Eddie) and history homework. But something on the television sucked you both right in, Poltergeist style, as you entered the Ecker trailer. Some hot young thing called Alex Trebek, captaining the maiden voyage of a brand new Jeopardy.

"You know who would kill on this show?" Eddie says, settling himself on the armrest to Ronnie's sniffling left.

"Guh, who?" Ronnie asks, huffing the steaming vapors of the spicy tomato soup like it's paint fumes.

You're pitched on the other armrest, pointing the rolled up history homework toward the screen. "What is the White H--US Treasury, are you fucking stupid?! Have these people never seen a twenty dollar bill before? What is the White House!"

You toss a glance over to Ronnie and Eddie for reassurance, just in time to catch them sharing a look. A good ol' Lacy know-it-all look. "Oh, shut up. as if I have more useless information rattling around in my brain than--"

Both you and Eddie snap at the TV in unison, "Who is Elvis Presley!"

Your turn to share a look. Game on? Game on.

It rolls on like that for a couple of categories, Ronnie sipping her soup straight from the container between you, hiding a smile as you and Eddie gradually bark louder and louder. Who are the Marx Brothers! What is 'break a leg'! Who was Napoleon!

"What, you're paying attention in History all of a sudden?"

"I'm a solid C student thanks to you, baby."

It occurs to you suddenly and begrudgingly and all at once; Eddie's right. You would kill on this show. But more than that, you want to wipe the floor and wring Eddie Munson out like the mop that he is.

"The greeting which opened each episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents."

"What is," both of you, in perfect Hitchcock tonality and without missing a beat, "Gooooood eeeeevening."

TRACK TWO: LIKE IF BECKY SHARP WAS FRIENDS WITH A BIG GOOFY HOUND DOG

Your first honest-to-god paycheck from the Bookstore was a fat wad of tens and singles plus change and it was handed to you in a brown paper bag. Invest this wisely, said Ivana, so of course, you followed your heart and your hard earned cash directly to the thrift store.

The front bell ding-a-lings and you walk through the door holding your moneybag aloft like the biggest, blue ribbon winning-est gourd at the county fair. You are proud as hell, because you did this! On your own! This isn't your daddy's money, this isn't the result of a once-toyed with idea that you might make a really good cat burglar, this was yours all yours!

"Put that down already! It's like you're wearing a sign saying mug me!" Eddie, bringing up the rear, yanks your arm back down by your side.

You laugh, mirthful and Hepburnian. "More like try me! I'm a working woman now, Eddie! I can hold my own! I can buy boots, guilt free, no strings, no blood money!"

"Uh-huh. consider that glass ceiling of having an after school job well and truly," he picks up a lamp from the scarcely populated homewares section, mimes slow-motion smashing it, "shattered!"

"Plus!" you cheerily pivot on your heel, a spring in your step that cannot be unsprung, even by Eddie's welcome to the real world, jackass flavored attempts. "Who would ever dare try and rob me when I've got a big, tough guard doggy like you three feet behind me at all times?"

Eddie's eyes narrow, like he's not all the way peachy keen on how you've pointed out your inseparability. But. He doesn't deny it either. A broken-stringed tennis racket bops you on the head.

"You owe me gas money."

"Shut up, please. I am shopping."

TRACK THREE: BUSTER MOVES

We'll always have the movies.

You sit, glassy-eyed, in your regular seats at the Hawk as The Cook starring Buster Keaton ticks along on the screen ahead of you. This Keaton retrospective, which you had been looking forward to for weeks, which you had been threatening to drag Eddie to for weeks, is going down a little... bland.

Not even that over-the-shoulder gaze that has Keaton beaming lasers of lust right into Virginia Rappe's skull adds any spice. You don't even bring up the whole scandal with her and Fatty Arbuckle, which would ordinarily be fertile territory to plow through with Eddie as a rapt audience.

In fact, you don't even tell him to kick his feet off the seats.

You've zoned out, because you still have the chill of the penitentiary's visiting quarters under your skin. Your dad and his cruelty that the bulletproof glass couldn't dull. The usual escape to the movies bit isn't doing the trick.

Then, you feel shaggy waves tickling your shoulder.

"I can do that."

"What?"

Directly in front of you, Buster is giving it his best Salome, his dance moves all angles. This display of pure deadpan goofiness was what made you obsess over Keaton in the first place, falling head over heels for a man who kicked it long before you were born.

And to your immediate left, you have Eddie Munson in your ear, telling you, "I can do that."

"No you can't," you say, and it doesn't sound like half the challenge it usually would.

Then, in a jolt that makes the whole row of rickety theater seats shake, Eddie's on his feet and stripping off his jacket. And before you can utter some totally perfunctory what're you... he's hot footing it down the steps to the splash zone, the front row, of the screen.

"You know I've seen this movie a million times?" Eddie says, projecting his voice right out like he's performing a one man show. Munson: Meditations on Dumbassery. You sit upright, glancing around to double-triple check that you're definitely alone in the screen. And you are-- Hawkins doesn't have as much a taste for the non-talkies as you do. And you were pretty sure that Eddie didn't either, and yet...

"Are you serious?" you ask, a laugh starting at the back of your throat.

"Does this look like a call and response? Let the maestro work, please," Eddie chides you over his shoulder, turning his back and hopping in place like a boxer about to take the ring.

And then, all of a sudden, he's... dancing? Sort of? Well, he's certainly moving his body, but it's nothing like what Buster's doing, and it's nothing like anyone's ever possibly done and not been hospitalized for, because the way his limbs are moving is borderline inhuman and you are laughing. Laughing, laughing, laughing in a way that feels like Eddie reaching right through the fog of your horrible, dissociative feelings and bringing you back into the light.

You toss popcorn at him and he totally fails to catch it in his mouth, his face lit up in shades of black and white by the projection.

"A million times, huh?"

Eddie, breathless, shrugs, "Alright, I lied. But you laughed."

Point to Munson.

TRACK FOUR: LIBERATING MY MAGAZINES

It was a favor that he'd agreed to before you even offered to buy him breakfast after, a favor that didn't need sweetening up. As his van rolled into Loch Nora, Eddie's brows knit a little bit-- and you wondered how much of him regretted saying yes so hastily.

"On a scale of one to felony..."

Your house hadn't been sold yet. Repossessed, sure, but not sold. It stood there, darkened and quiet and gathering dust and the sheer sight of it being the only house on your street with an overgrown lawn made your chest feel tight. You bet the neighbors had something to say about that. You bet the neighbors had a lot to say about you. Curtains were no doubt twitching when you and Eddie pulled up in front of your old driveway.

"It's fine. It's my stuff, anyway."

About a half hour later, Eddie drops a pile of slightly-weather beaten copies of Rolling Stone bearing your name and old address onto a table in the diner, the remnants of your now-cancelled subscription.

"You gotta wonder what they're putting in that new print format that kept those things from totally composting."

"Thank god they didn't! I need to finish that Tom Wolfe serial or I'll die," you declare as he picks up a menu and you rifle through the pile. "Order whatever. It's on me."

Eddie snorts. You're still carting around that dwindling brown bag of cash. "You don't have to do that."

"No," you say, eyes darting around to anywhere but his face, "but I want to. For helping me to liberate my magazines."

"Lace. I'd happily liberate your magazines without the promise of pancakes," his mouth twists into this little grin you can't help but think of as sweet, "but they do help."

"Order enough to keep us here for a while," you say, and pass him a Rolling Stone.

The next while passes silently between you two, passing issues back and forth until one of you picks out something the two of you can fight about. Eddie twists his rings around when he's reading; you gather this from the looks you keep sneaking.

It feels eerily relaxed. Slightly domestic. And by the end, over-caffeinated with the way you two are soundlessly cackling over an imagined world where the cover of Springsteen's Born in the USA isn't an ass shot, but a full-frontal dick shot. "But where does he put the flag?!"

It's one way to kill a Saturday.

SECRET SONG: SWAPPING NOTES

In the relentless waves of the morning crush to get to his next class, he almost misses you-- just like he'd like to almost miss this next class. But then, there you are with freshly-manicured nails digging into his elbow.

For whatever reason, you've taken it upon yourself to make sure that Eddie Munson doesn't skip! At least, where you can help it.

"Yoohoo! Spanish is this way," you say, reorienting him in the right direction in that insistent little way that you do. Eddie's pretty sure that if he sat on you, you'd snap, yet he lets you completely manipulate his clearly superior physical strength anyway.

"We're not in Spanish together!" he tries, a last ditch to get you to turn around so he can ditch.

"No, but French is juste par là so you are pas de chance, my friend!" you tell him with a stare that says I've been tracking your movements like a hunter, dumbass. See my big spear? From that gargantuan folder you're clutching, you dig out a paper. "I have that thing you wanted me to look at."

"Sssshut up, I don't need everyone to know," Eddie flushes. It's not homework he begged to copy from you for once. It is actually this comparative essay that he actually thinks he might not have completely screwed up. But he kind of wanted a professional not-screwer-upper-of-homework's point of view, so... that's why your little red pen marks are all over it.

"Why, whose reputation am I sparing?" He sees your point. You are basically walking arm in arm with him. You. "But, y'know, I was right about you! The thought is there, the execution just needs a little fine tuning."

"So it was..."

"Not amazing! But not awful. I've done my edits and you can just copy as per-- but absorb them, please, okay? Learn something?"

Eddie's head rolls back on his neck with this petulant groan and he almost clocks a freshman at elbow level, shaking his arms in total frustration. God, now you were giving him homework on top of his homework? He should have just paid you to do the homework!

"I hate when you want me to better myself! Shit!"

"Well!" you say, in that bright, adorable, annoyingly-self satisfied way, "I wouldn't do it if I didn't see potential, so suck on that."

#published by powder #e. munson by powder #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x oc #edlacy #blurbs #need to stop tagging things over 2k as 'blurb'#anwayy your honor i LOVE THEMMMMM this is just silly and fun #cba making a banner i'm too tired #hai brainrot #l. doevski by powder

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sloppy-syrup · 3 months

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My submission for @shalaaex ‘s dtiys!! (Sorry for the tag) and congrats on 1k!!

I don’t expect to win or anything, this was just fun to do :)

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TUMBLR PLEASE DONT COMPRESS THIS PICTURE IT HAS SO MANY SMALL DETAILS I DONT WANNA LOSE

Link to original dtiys post below cut 👇

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makeste · 7 months

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do you perhap have bakugou whump fic recs?

I have many such recs! not all of them are "whump" in the purest sense of the word, but they've got angst and hurt/comfort in abundance, so yeah.

I also have an older rec post from like five years ago which has quite a few Bakugou whump fics as well, so I'll link that here.

and here are like 16 new ones lol.

some quick notes:

I'm just including links and summaries here, so please make sure to check the tags for each fic if you have certain squicks or triggers you're trying to avoid!

please be aware that I am not very nitpicky about grammar and style and spelling and the like, so long as I'm feeling the characterization and general vibes. so while I can't promise that all of these fics will read like Nobel Prize-winning lit, I can say that I personally enjoyed each one enough to go back and reread more than once.

although it tends to be one of the most common tropes in Bakugou angst fics, I do not vibe with the "abusive Mitsuki" angle, so you won't find any of that in the works below. same goes for Midnight-bashing (which is also surprisingly common).

I also did not include any fics with sad endings just because I didn't feel like depressing myself today lol.

I don't think there are manga spoilers in any of these fics except one (which I noted and marked with an asterisk), but definitely check the tags just to be safe.

lastly, though I'm by no means a prude when it comes to fanfic, all of these particular fics are SFW, just FYI.

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gen Bakuwhump:

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It's Already Tomorrow on the Other Side of the World by Nicole_Silverwolf

In the absolute immediate aftermath of his rescue at Kamino, Bakugou just wants to sleep. If he sleeps then this nightmare will be over. Except he's freezing in the mid August heat. And he can't stop shaking. A glimpse of two imperfect humans trying their best told in 3.5 parts.

post-Kamino Dadzawa and Katsuki. easily one of my all-time favorite BnHA fics. it's so sad and cozy.

Coming Up for Air by achievingelysium

Katsuki has nightmares. He doesn't think he deserves the comfort, but Aizawa-sensei sits with him anyway.

more Dadzawa dealing with nighttime Kacchan angst, since that's like my #1 BnHA fic aesthetic. this is so well-written. like, there are a couple of lines in here that just... guh. just hit right to the core of me.

Bakugou's "Super Fun" Three Day Vacation by Marvelless

Bakugou and his parents arrive home after the Kamino Ward incident for some much-needed recovery time.

post-Kamino Bakufam angst. lots of paranoia and dissociation. this is one of those fics that's sort of a guilty pleasure for me, because Katsuki definitely feels a lot more... fragile?... in this than I think he would have been in canon. but he's still enough of a grump during all of his spiralling that it still feels like him. and I do love me some Bakufam wholesomeness, and this fic has got that in spades.

the art of poor judgement by emelinelou

It's a Tuesday when Bakugou admits to himself that maybe, maybe he is sorta, kinda under the weather. Things go quickly downhill from there. . Alternatively: Bakugou's too stubborn to be "sick," Midoriya and Kirishima are in over their heads, Todoroki is the Most Useful in a pinch, and Aizawa is not paid nearly enough for this.

probably my favorite sickfic. chapter two especially. Bakugou's narration in this is fucking fantastic. he's so fucking done with life. meanwhile everyone around him is freaking out, and he himself is a complete mess even though he won't acknowledge it, and it's just great. it's equal parts funny, sad, and absolutely adorable.

(incidentally, even though this fic is marked as incomplete, it really doesn't feel that way and ends at a perfectly reasonable stopping point, so don't let that put you off.)

Solar Flare by TheQueen

Three weeks after Katsuki Bakugou receives his quirk, he takes a short tumble off a bridge and watches, dumbfounded, as stupid Deku extend a hand. Don’t take it, the universe commands. Don’t tell me what to do! Katsuki snaps.

this is a really cool AU in which Baby Katsuki accidentally starts defying the universe and ignoring his predestined path, which has a profound ripple effect on his life. sort of like a time-travel fix-it, minus the time travel. also just a heads up that Bakugou is like five years old in this so I guess it's technically a kidfic. and there is plenty of angst, a little bit of whump, more Bakufam, and plenty of baby Kacchan and Deku being cute like it's their job.

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BKDK/DKBK whump:

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lose it all (with eyes wide open) by ghostwriterofthemachine

Katsuki is blinded. Izuku is muted. Both of them are kidnapped. Things get worse.

this is one of those fics that just kind of leaves you stunned at how freaking good it is. featuring: psychological mindgames, hopelessly bleak situations, and codependency so utterly raw and desperate that it broke my heart roughly 17 times.

When Ice Doesn't Float by Ma_skee

A simple rescue exercise goes south when Izuku falls through the ice and it goes from a class assinment to an actual rescue and a race against time to keep him from freezing to death.

technically this is more Dekuwhump than Kacchanwhump (though we do get a bit of the latter toward the end), but I'd argue that few things could possibly stress Katsuki out more than being in a tense survival situation in which Deku is hurt and needs help. anyway so yeah. this is classic hurt/comfort and very good.

spinning out of control by mollE

Katsuki joins the 'I've Been Mind Controlled' Club. He wishes he hadn't.

please see above re: how all Dekuwhump scenarios are secretly Kacchanwhump scenarios in disguise. anyway so basically a mind-controlled Bakugou beats the shit out of Deku while being fully aware of it the entire time, and has a complete (and understandable) emotional breakdown afterwards.

all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing by maxisnotokay

Izuku has had this thing about him that Katsuki has never been able to name, but he's been chasing it since he learned how to run. It takes a catastrophic building collapse during their third year and a severe concussion for him to realize what it is. Aizawa loses ten years off his life. When does he not.

gotta love a good building collapse fic. this one has a concussed Katsuki, a very worried Izuku, and the usual "thanks to this intimate life-or-death situation, I have belatedly realized some fundamental truths about the nature of our relationship" tropes. but it's good. a lot of really good banter and back-and-forth dialogue in this one too.

takes one to know one by Sour_Idealist

Deku has left UA. Ochako still looks for him in unguarded moments. Bakugo is, unsurprisingly, being a jerk.

some good emotional hurt/comfort post-Jakku. Ochako has a chat with Bakugou about Deku. specifically, Bakugou's feelings toward Deku. it's good shit.

*fear is the heart of love by nikkiRA

*please be advised this fic contains major manga spoilers!!

Bakugou gets hit by a quirk that amplifies his greatest fear for 24 hours.

losing Deku. the thing that scares him the most is losing Deku. this is a good fic. emotional hurt/comfort for days. though once again do keep in mind that there are a couple of major spoilers in this.

silence is what i do best by notreally

the one where both Izuku and Katsuki were hit with a truth serum sort of quirk, and things aren't going all too well.

not just a truth-telling quirk, but a truth-compulsion quirk, to the extent that (spoiler alert) the quirk causes them physical pain and distress if they don't speak the truth. which, as you can imagine, leads to all sorts of extremely vulnerable conversations and a lot of good h/c.

close by not quite by blossomshed

When Bakugou goes after a beacon during a class-wide rescue op, he doesn't expect to find Deku - or to find himself dealing with the fallout of a gift he doesn't want, and a side of himself he'd never bothered to examine. He deals with it nonetheless.

this fic is so dear to me. it's yet another "Deku transfers OFA to Bakugou fic", but it's just so fucking good. and it also features a (very much confused) ace Bakugou, which is such a rare find. there are lines from this fic which I still think about constantly. it's funny and profound and adorable and so wonderfully IC, please go read it.

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BONUS NON-ANGSTY FICS because I just felt like ending this list with some happy stories where Kacchan gets a lot of love:

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give me compliments (i said give me compliments) by wonhaebunny

“It’s just cute,” Ashido is telling them as she walks into the classroom. “Like, when you compliment someone and they get flustered so easily, don’t you think it’s endearing?” Kaminari blinks. “Like Bakugou?” he asks slowly. - 1-a realises that katsuki is really, really bad at receiving compliments. exposure therapy ensues.

he is bad at accepting compliments. this is a very, very cute fic.

The Friendship Ladder by nikkiRA

Bakugou and Kirishima tell their classmates they're dating, but everyone seems more interested in who gets to claim the newly vacated spot of Bakugou’s best friend.

as the summary implies this is technically KRBK, but the focus here is very much class 1-A as a whole. there's just something about seeing the entirety of the class squabbling over their Kacchan love that tickles me to no end. Deku is also fantastic in this lmao.

The Yoshida Trail by WinterSwallow

Mitsuki Bakugo returns with her gift to the mountain.

last but not least we have this gorgeous character study with a criminally low view count. Mitsuki climbs Mt. Fuji with an eight-year-old Katsuki in tow, as the fic explores his childhood and young adulthood through a series of vignettes. the insights in this really have no business being as profound as they are, given that they're voiced from the perspective of one of the most graceless characters in the series as she observes her equally graceless son through all the ups and downs and tumbles of his life. but somehow that just makes the whole thing even better. idk I just really love this a lot.

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anyway that's it for now. hope at least a few of these are enjoyable. thanks for the ask!

#bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bkdk #fic recs #bnha fic recs #bnha #boku no hero academia #makeste reads bnha

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blacklesbothatlovestowrite · 9 months

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On My Mama Pt 2

Shuri x Fem Reader, Fem Reader x OC

I'm new to the tag list and tagging so bare with me if I left anyone out just let me know and I'll add it in.

Tags: @mixedfandxms @shurislover @sweetalittleselfish-honey @desswright29

Side note: I had an idea for a fic with Jada Kingdom Reader (looks) and Shuri, maybe ShuRiri. I'm Jamaican so you know seh big tunes ah guh run. 💥 reader could be an aspiring model trying to break into music and she meets Shuri or Shuriri at an event and they decide to produce her music wanting to do a fusion between Jamaican, African and American music. And a whole lotta smut and messy, toxic shit in between. 😮‍💨

I be in the section dolo, baby, oh

You chose to go to the club on a Friday night, you'd been ducking Riri and Shuri for days. Expensive gifts were delivered daily, Beautiful flower arrangements, your favorite foods. Things you wanted but had no clue as to how they knew that.

Some girl you barely knew invited out out with her group of friends. You weren't very interested at first as you knew girls were catty and competitive by nature and you weren't interested in having to be on the defense all night. You'd done the trying to be a girl's girl before and it never worked out. Girls tended to be weird and you had no time nor energy for the bullshit.

Making acquaintances was the goal. You couldn't spend all your time in college doing nothing but doing work and keeping your head in the books. You wanted some fun, some irresponsibility. You were tired of being a 'good girl' someone that was a people pleaser. You had no people to please any longer. Your mother was a cheating whore and your father the star of your eyes was gone.

Your look + Outfit (with a more subtle eye look)

The club was lit. You noticed many POC students from campus. Which wasn't surprising as this club was marketed towards POC's on the low. Owned by a black couple, and ran with POC staff. It was a safe space for POC's to have fun without fear of harm.

"Y/n, I'm a little miffed. I invited you out and you out here making us all look bad." Gina says, her eyes narrowing at you playfully.

"Girl hush, she couldn't do normal if she tried. Even in casual wear with no makeup she looks hot." Nina giggles, greeting you with a hug.

"I'd kill for your looks and figure..." Gina pouts. You laugh at her. "No wonder your mom's a model. You need to follow in her footsteps, all that damn beauty."

"I'm good. Beauty and Brains is the goal. I'd rather be known for being pretty and a genius rather than pretty and an airhead hoe." You shrug and the girls look between each other in shock. "My mother isn't my favorite person so you'll never hear a compliment out of my mouth about her so it's better to not bring her up."

"Noted..." Gina muttered, clearing her throat. You could practically hear the silent judgment.

"Let's go get some drinks." Nina suggests, leading the way to the bar.

"I want a margarita." Gina calls to one of the bartenders. A pretty tall caramel skinned girl with highlighted curls and a bright smile.

Bartender

"Make that two." Nina agrees.

"I'll have whatever you think is best." You say, watching the girl eye you seductively.

"Coming right up, gorgeous." You bite your lip as she looks you over as she makes the drinks. The look she was giving you had you weak in the knees already.

"Oooh..." Gina giggles, bumping your shoulder. "She feeling you..."

"Here ya'll go." She places each drink down, before handing yours to you. "This one's new, I'm sure it tastes just as good as you look."

You fight the urge to break out in a cheesy smile. Her fingers grazing yours as you take the glass. You down the drink, eyes widening at the sweet yet potent taste that slid down your throat. You felt slightly hot as she smirked at you.

"Ok... I'll have what she's having!" Nina says, wide eyed. The bartender laughs but nods.

"Lord Ha'Mercy I'm too gay for this." Nina fans herself. You smile a genuine smile. Something you hadn't done in a very long time.

"What's your name ?" The bartender asks, as she passes Nina her drink and a hands you a refill.

"Why should I tell you?" You raise a brow, while nibbling on your bottom lip.

"Ok, Smiley it is." She licks her lip and you internally fan girl. "You have such a beautiful smile."

You're making me forget my past

"I'm Jess by the way." She adds.

"Ok, Jess by the way. Thanks for the drinks." You say, your tone playful. You grab a $20 and slide it towards her before heading to the dance floor. You wanted to let loose and have fun, and a small part of you wanted to show off for her.

You let your body sway to the beat, your head slightly tilted back as you gyrates your hips to the beat. As you danced your mind went to Shuri, the lyrics swirling in your head. Your eyes snapped open wanting to remove her from your mind.

You'd been trying to stop thinking about her. You couldn't help your attraction to her, she did something to you but you refused to go there. She was the cause of your family's downfall. She'd been with your mother. It was disgusting to even be thinking about her after that.

Your eyes locked with Jess and you put every effort into seducing her. Something that wasn't so hard since she seemed interested in you. You needed Shuri the fuck out of your head and Jess seemed like the perfect way to do that.

You were sure fucking with Riri would work two fold. Take your mind off Shuri and fuck her over at the same time. Yet you couldn't stand the fact that Riri was friends with the girl. She was bright and from what you'd heard she was by all accounts a morally good person.

The two being friends made no sense to you. How could you trust someone so messy and chaotic unless you had that in you as well? Maybe Riri was better at hiding her dirt and kept it on the low. Regardless you weren't interested in finding out.

As the song finished and you went to make your way back to the bar a familiar face stopped in front of you. She looked bothered, and you couldn't find a fuck to give.

"I see you've gotten my gifts." Riri eyes your body in the outfit she's sent you. You wore it hoping she'd see you in it because you wanted to prove a point to the duo one you knew would be relayed if the other wasn't present.

"And I see you weren't listening." You deadpan. "But if you'd like to send me stuff who am I to stop you? It's giving fan behavior, and I find that very amusing."

"Oh, so you got jokes?" Riri cracks up. She steps closer, her body almost touching yours. "You can continue acting like you don't want me but we both know you secretly like my attention. You like being chased and that's fine. Just know once you get caught, you'll have to beg for my attention."

"Your head being big clearly fits you, Williams." You say her name with malice.

"And that's not the only thing big." You can tell by her tone exactly what she's talking about but you choose not to acknowledge it.

"Well have a good rest of your night." You dismiss her before stepping around her and heading back towards the bar. You see that Nina and Gina are gone. You look around to see them with the other people they were supposed to meet up.

"So Riri's your thing?" Jess says, settling back in front of you.

"Thing?"

"Your type." She clarifies, her eyes sparkling. She had the prettiest eyes you'd seen.

"I think the only type you need to worry about is yourself." You flirt. She raises a brow.

"Word?"

"What do you say to heading home with me?" You get straight to the point, watching as she grins.

"Oh you go for what you want, huh?" She seems impressed. You simply stare at her. "We can head out right now."

She walks over to some guy and they talk for a bit before she gathers her things from under the bar and motions for you to follow her. She leads the way to her car, a black Camry with blue and black interior. Her rims are even blue and her windows tinted.

The next morning you're woken by Jess with her skillful tongue and you take pleasure in the fact that you're loud. She'd put you to work the whole night, and you'd returned the favor showing her exactly how much you appreciated her attention.

You sighed as you piled your straight hair into a messy bun and pulled on a oversized t-shirt and walked her to your dorm door. You yawned as you let her out and thanked her for coming over. You made a note to text her for another session as she was definitely a generous and thoughtful lover.

As you watched her leave and was about to close your door you watched in victory as Riri walked towards her dorm room. She'd left at some point in the early hours of the morning, slamming her door. You knew she was jealous and that thought sent chills of satisfaction throughout your body.

"Good morning, Williams." You said, smirking as she clenched her jaw. "Sorry about the noise. I'll try to be quieter next time."

And with that you closed the door with an enthusiastic kick. The message you'd sent very clear. Little did you know, you'd just started a war. One you wouldn't win.

Your day was starting to turn to shit as your RA left your dorm. Angry was an understatement. You knew someway somehow your current predicament was curtesy of Riri. You couldn't prove it but you knew it was her.

You'd been reported for having an off campus visitor spend the night. A violation that meant you lost your dorm. You were pissed. You'd already made your dorm home. Decorated it how you wanted and even saged it to clear any bad energy out. Clearly it hadn't worked.

You were being moved to another building where you'd have two roommates. The only upside being you had a room and there weren't many rules. You just hated the fact you had to share a space with people you barely knew in closer and smaller quarters.

It took you the whole day and the help of the sisters Nina and Gina. Once you'd moved into the new apartment, you noticed the apartment was huge. You looked around, steering clear of the other bedrooms not wanting to invade anyone's private spaces.

The apartment was styled nicely. By the door was a shoe rack with dope sneakers, expensive heels and slides. You could tell whoever your roommates were they came from money.

You were so exhausted you knocked out on the sofa watching some old show.

A loud sound and a cuss woke you up. As your eyes adjusted to the dark you could barely make out two figures.

"Hello?" You called out, you knew you locked the door so the two had to be your roommate. The light was switched on and you instantly jumped up, anger building in you.

"Are you fucking serious!?!?!?!" You bellow.

"Told you she'd be happy to see us." Riri wiggled her brows, bumping Shuri.

"Y...you..." You couldn't find the words to express what you were feeling.

"Chill ma, we just thought you'd like some company." Riri grins, heading for the kitchen.

"Stop antagonizing her, Ri." Shuri speaks up, her demeanor is different. You glare at the duo.

"Fuck you look so good when you're pissed." Riri chuckles, grabbing a water and taking a sip. "Adorable really."

Realizing there wasn't much you could do, you swallowed down all the things you wanted to say and headed for your room. You slammed it, locking it behind you.

They didn't know what they'd started but you were damn sure going to finish it. You started scheming.

💕

#Spotify

133 notes · View notes

prettymrswright · 1 year

Text

Lockdown.

pairing: koffee!singer x black!fem choreographer/artist

content: fluff, barely angst, innuendos, a lot of patois (Koffee is from Spanish Town, she has a strong JA accent), mentions of God/spirituality, artistry, choreography, flashbacks.

background: you had been spending quite a lot of time with the reggae artist after meeting her at a Reggae Fest a few months back. as time went by, the two of you grew closer, but in attempt to keep up your guard and protect yourself, you pulled back. the artist didn’t like that too much, and def used she would double down on her interest. she wasn’t letting you go that easy.

a/n: to this day, there are not Koffee fics to be found so guess who’s here to change that like the manifestor human design that I am?? ME! i unintentionally made this character almost identical to me.. by accident. there are so many things about y/n in this book that is my true life story lmaooo.

I’m gone try to insert some translations here and there, even though patois is still english, I know some things are harder to comprehend. But it’s important I insert it because 1, it’s sexy and 2, I like to maintain accuracy. hope unnu like it. <3

translations:

deh - there

yah - here

nuff - a lot, plenty

dung - down

guh - go

unnu - you (plural, like you guys/ y’all)

dem - plural, noun (i.e friend dem (friends) )

pan/pon - on

guh - go

suh - so or how (A suh you feel? That’s how you feel?)

dolly - slang for attractive girl/woman

taglist: @dejaonline @saintwrld @inmyheadimobsessed @venusdraco @vampzxi @msplayas @abenomeiiii @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @verachii @shuriszn @shurislover @sapphicvqmpires @ventingfanfics

if you wanna be apart of my taglist, apply through the link pinned to my page!

If you wan to opt out, or only want to be tagged for someone specifically, those are also options!

LOCKDOWN PART 2!

"Okay sexy!" Your friend and fellow artist, Sabirah-Amani paraded your ear with praises and hype as you checked yourself out in your hotel mirror. You had been working for the past few months, project after project, and although you were grateful, you were two hops and a skip away from burnout. Between choreographing for artists and late nights in the studio in hopes of being your own artist, you hadn't much left to give. You were very clearly overextending yourself in all areas. You were ambitious and focused, precise about your work; You're an artist, and you were sensitive about your shit! However, you were beginning to neglect yourself emotionally and spiritually. You and Sabi came to the mutual decision that a vacation was much needed. The two of you spent the week catching appointments, pampering and refreshing your appearance. You give a small giggle before looking at her briefly and mimicking a hair-flipping motion. "Look you," She continues in her trini-yunese accent. "In short ting. All yuh collarbone outside." The two of you erupted in laughter. "And all of Jamaica will continue to see my collarbone, okay?" you responded, still laughing. Ochi was so beautiful. It was full of sights and bashments and raves and just beautiful people having a beautiful time. For a reason unbeknownst to you, everything out of Jamaica just resonated with you and held your heart so deeply. It had been your first morning in JA, and as expected, the sun was blazing. The bright sun and tropical breeze shone through your plexiglass balcony doors. You and Sabi were going to get breakfast as well as check out the rest of the hotel. A cocoa-beige brown triangle bikini set hugged your body, overlapped with a long, knitted skirt of the same color. A white, knitted long-sleeved cropped coverup laid baggy over your toned arms. Your feet rested in some rhinestone encrusted strap sandals. Your hair was braided in cornrows falling right above the dip in your lower back , swirl designs in every direction. It was entirely too hot for a full beat, so your fresh lash set was holding you down. "You ready to go?" You asked. "Let's do it. " Sabi replied, and with that, you were out of the room and off to the lobby.

After getting off the elevator, the two of you walked through the lobby to reach where you would be having breakfast at. After filling up your plates at the buffet, you took a seat in the far corner of the restaurant, a clear view of the beach across from you. "I know we just got here and everything but," Sabi started. "I kinda wanna jump into the vibes tonight." "Um absolutely, that was the plan from jump," You say in sort of a 'duh' tone. "But I know you need your rest. You know, some unwinding time." She says concerningly. Sabi was always looking out for you in that way, it was one of her greatest assets as a friend. "Girl, mi neva come a Jamaica fi lie dung. I got another week and a half to rest!" You say in a comedic way, but you meant it. You were already starting to feel better being in a newer and fresher feeling environment. Rest would come, but right now? Vibes. "Okay, okay!" Sabi laughed in a hearty manner. "Yo you and this Patois accent, knowing you not even Jamaican is frying me." You playfully rolled your eyes. It was true. You were in love with all things of different cultures, so each one you immersed yourself in, you began to pick up. Growing up in NY, all you were around were Caribbean people, so it wasn't out of the ordinary for you. "Speaking of Jamaicans," Sabi began, and somehow, you knew what direction this was going in. "When's the last time you spoke to Mikayla?" "Who?" You lie, lazily spooning through your bowl of porridge. "Mikaylaaaa, Mikayla, Koffee, Big bad reggae artist from Spaintown, Jamaica, your woman--" She goes into a rampage and you cut her off. "Alrightttt, alright, alright. I get it" You rush her to end her tangent, hoping no one around you guys heard. "I don't know.. March?" You say, voice dying down at the end in cowardice. "MARCH?" Sabi's draw drops. "Y/N..it's June." A guilty expression washed over you. "I know, Sabi." "Why you duckin' her?" Sabi cocks up her left eyebrow and leans forward, curious to hear your answer. "I--" You drop your utensil in audacity. "Why you assume it was me?" "Girl, please okay. She was on your ass like back pockets at that Roc Nation Brunch. We both know you're Miss Ghost Town." Sabi says reading you for filth, pulling an accidental laugh out of you.

“I mean, she’s a big artist, she could have anyone she wants.” You shrug. “Her not hearing from me is barely putting a dent in her life plans.”

The truth was, prior to your disappearance, you two were becoming closer by the minute. You really liked Koffee. And with that, your body began to do that thing that it does when you’re about to be fully consumed by that feeling of infatuation. It wasn’t so much the idea of a relationship that you were scared of, but more-so of the uncertainty of its stability. Koffee was now an international artist, who meets thousands of people every day. You knew how it was in the industry, you were in it. It was one thing to really like someone, but to like someone in the entertainment industry was like setting yourself up for heartbreak. And you had entirely too much on your plate to go through that shit again.

“Who reached out last?” She asks.

“.. Her.” You say in a “so” type of tone.

“Mm.” She responds, strategically setting up her “aha” statement. “And who gave who an unlimited backstage pass for all her shows, in ANY city?”

“…her.” your defeated responses began to get smaller.

“And who—“ you cut her off, in attempts to stop the physically pain of her being right.

“Okay, okay, damn,” you laugh. “But you know how that shit go, Sav. One minute she thinks she wanna be with me and the next, she’s in some European country, with who knows, doing God knows what.”

“Uh, uh.” She says in disapproval. “Now you know she ain’t hunching with no white women.”

You burst into laughter. She could always tie something together comedically while simultaneously giving you the real.

“It don’t hurt to just say wassup, Y/N/N. I mean besides, when’s the last time you had any ‘fun’. Let loose a lil. If anyone needs to, it’s you.” Sab says, voice full of concern, but direction.

You looked off outside the window, pondering on her message. You missed her dearly. Who were you trying to fool? I mean maybe you were a little harsh. She didn't really give you any reason to be. Sure you'd seen some photo ops with her and other female artists, but that was her job. You didn't like the feeling it gave you though. When you look back towards Sabirah and her now empty plate, she was smiling at her phone. "And who exactly got you smiling like that?" You ask, now shining the figurative spotlight on her. "Oh it's nobody for real," She waved off. "Nobody huh," You chuckle. "What nobody say?" "Well actually, Nobody is gonna be at this party tonight that I planned on dragging you too." "Party?" You say frowning. "With all these white folks? Since when you wanna go to a resort party." "Oh girl, be so for real," She says scoffing. "My cousin JJ and his girlfriend are here at her family house, and they're throwing a bashment, off the resort." Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You were actually ecstatic to be getting into some real vibes off the resort. I mean, truly you had no real complaints, after all, you were in Jamaica. But country had the homegrown, feel good energy you were dying to be around. It was more authentic. "See now, that's what I'm talking about!" The two of you embraced in a dap across the table. "How we getting there?" "You ever been on a dirt bike before?" Sabi asks sincerely, yet you think she's joking. "What?!" ꨄ︎ Night begins to fall and as you and Sabi make your way out of the resort, a warm breeze surrounds your body. You two are greeted by JJ and his friend, Dwayne, and hop on the back of their blue and green dirt bikes. You wrap your arms around Dwayne's torso, tightly shut your eyes, say a small prayer and with a loud rev, you pull off into the rocky roads. When you finally gain to courage to open your eyes, you're blown away by how beautiful the scenery was. The hue of the sunset was mixed with orange, pink and purple, and tall trees took space along the sides of the open road. Each refreshing breath you took smelled like rain-bathed plants, summer and adventure. As a result of the fast-paced vehicle moving swifter and in the opposite direction of breeze flow, your braids flew past you forwardly. You couldn't help but to smile, in awe of all the beauty around you. "Woooo! JAMAICA WE REACH!" Sabi yells, cheers carrying across the sky, 80-mph. You beamed at her enthusiasm. Truth be told, you were just as excited. 20 minutes later, you pull into a backyard seemingly as big as 1/3 of the island. You were nowhere near the DJ booth, but you could feel the bass bumping through your entire body. If it weren't for the spacious area, you'd be packed like sardines. Everybody from the parish you were in were in attendance. Men dressed in their straight jeans, belts and button downs, marinas and cut-up shorts; most with spliffs in hand. Women in their mesh top and shorts, mini skirts, mini dresses, heels and bamboos, nails done and hair laid to the gods. This definitely wasn't the event to come looking regular. The aroma of seasonings and a burning grill slithered through your nose canal, causing you to avert your attention behind you, where hot plates of food and alcoholic drinks were being given out to the people in the line. It was definitely a vibe. "Ayeee allyuh mek it!" Sabi's cousin JJ comes and greets us both with a hug. "I saved two plates for y'all, cuz if it was any later, you'd be chewing your lip." You all erupt in laughter. "Omg J," you began. "You're the literal best because I am starving." "No sweat," JJ throws his hands up, emphasizing the 'no big deal.' "Your plates are in the fridge in the kitchen. Shelly's mom is holding it down, so you don't gotta worry about nobody theifing it." "Thanks Knucklehead," Sabi pinches his ear.

"Ouch! Remind me, I ent doing anyting nice fa yuh no more, yuh could starve!" JJ says to Sabi, rubbing his pinched ear.

"yUh couLd sTarVE!" Sabi mocks him. The two of them couldn't get along for more than 5 minutes, but it was always love behind their quarrel.

"Well look at you twooo!" JJ's girlfriend, Shelley approaches you with beaming smiles and open arms.

"Hot gyal Shells!" Sabi starts. "It's been a long time."

"Naa tell no lie! When JJ told me you two were visiting a resort so close by, I had to pull you for at least one night." Shelley says holding both you and Sabi's hands individually.

"Your home is beautiful Shells." You sincerely confess. "Thank you for the invite. Look at the turnout! You doing your big one."

"Thank you, babydoll. You know you're welcome absolutely any time. And I gotta put my ex party-promoting skills to some use!" Shelley replies.

Shelley threw crazy parties back in the day. She always was hosting, and was sure to not only bring in a crowd, but a GOOD one. Amongst many talents, she had the gift of gab for sure. She also always had artists in her venues. From Spice to Konshens, Shenseea to Aidonia. Everyone knew Shelley.

"I know that's right. Besides, I was getting tired of the resort food." Sabi says honestly, making us chuckle. The food was still good, but definitely a watered down version.

"Well!" Shelley clasps her hands together. "Dolly nuh come a party fi hug up pan wall. Unnu guh dance!"

"Don't nobody wanna dance with Paula the Preying Mantis." JJ teases Sabi, bending his arms up like the insect.

"Shut up, JJ!" Sabi says, giving his shoulder a hard nudge.

"Leave Sabi alone." Shelley follows up with a back-handed slap over his other shoulder. "I ain't wanna dance with you when we met. I just felt bad."

"Ohhhhhhh..." You and Sabi both say simultaneously, gagged by the way she just read him.

"Now why you had to go there? You ain't ha-" JJ began and Shelley cooed, half consoling him, half mocking. You and Sabi laugh your way all the way to the middle of the backyard, where the bulk of the party was.

You took in the scene around you and allowed yourself to get lost in the music. Sean Paul & Sasha’s I’m Still In Love with You is pouring out of the speakers and into your ears, filling you with nostalgia. You begin to rock side to side and slow whine your hips. It was definitely a bittersweet feeling. This was one of the songs you danced to at Reggae Music Fest with— her. You missed her. But she could’ve reached out right? You know, besides the 3 times she did already, that you were seemingly to busy for? That didn’t mean give up!

You and Sabi spun each other around and shared some whines and some laughs. You truly felt at peace for the first time in such a long time. You broke away for Sabi for one minute, and the next, she had a new dancing partner. You smiled at the interaction, and before you could really take it in, somebody approached you to dance with you as well.

“Excuse me likkle miss,” A tall, brownskin man with locs down his back approached you with a smooth, but respectful hand on your waist. “Beg yuh a dance nuh?” He smiled, showing off his fanged teeth.

He wanted to dance. Why not? You were out there to enjoy yourself. And at least you know the two of you could dance and that be it. It’s not like he was your type anyway— (obviously). What was truly the harm?

You gave him a smile, accepting his request & began to dance with him. Long before you knew it, you were dancing to another song with him. The man knew how to move. And he smelled phenomenal. Your moment was disturbed, however, when you began to notice two men in the far, right corner of the yard staring at you. And not in the admiring way; it was almost as if they were discussing you. Like they knew you from somewhere. The guy obviously felt it too.

“Yuh know dem from someweh?” He asks, semi-concerned. You just gave him a confused head shake, no.

“Yow yow yow, people, if yuh a enjoy yuhself tonight, mek some bloodclat noiseee!” The dj scratched and lowered the track to speak, and the crowd erupted.

“Outside nice, man. Good weather, sexy ladies, hot tunes. If a Jamaica yuh come from and yuh proud of it, buss a blank!” He continues.

Gun finger emotes fill the sky, followed by mimicked gunshot noises.

“This next song yah is fi all a di people dem weh love the Caribbean.”

Soon as the song begins, you feel your heart drop to your stomach and you’re adrenaline begin to rush.

Balenciaga 'pon me structure

Who them talk, push get the duck yah

I-i-i-io!

Everybody begins to cheer and holler to the feel good song.

It was West Indies.

West Indies was your favorite song by Koffee. It was such a feel good song, and you were there while she was constructing it. You knew it was close to her heart. She had even asked for your input. You encouraged her to push it out and make it a single. You knew the people would love it just as much as you did. And they did.

You felt yourself begin to get emotional, but you stopped the tears from advancing their welled-up position behind your lower lids. You migrated away from the main section, simply to avoid being asked to dance again. Not to this song. Too personal.

Sabi found you in the crowd and shot you a look of sympathy. “You okay?” she mouthed. You gave a closed lip smile and nodded. You decided to go get a drink and take some edge of. As bothered as you were, you still loved the song.

“One rum and pineapple, please.” You ask tell the lady serving drinks. You know you don’t have to pay anything, but you slip her a $10 anyway.

The mixed beverage slides down your throat and coaxes your nerves and you begin to let loose.

Coming from the West Indies

And you know say we giving them the best indeed

Anyweh we deh, we do a flex 'pon street

And the stylе weh we do no moderatе stampede

As you sway back and forth, cup in hand, approaching tipsy, you see a group of girls walking by, double-taking your face and your frame. They then begin whispering. All you could make out was “Koffee” and “Girl”.

Alright. What the fuck was going on?

You tried your hardest to ignore it, returning to your state of groove. As the chorus began to approach, the dj lowered the music once again.

“Alright everybody, mek some noise and big up Koffee!!!”

You froze. Immediately. Ironically when all you wanted to do was melt into the ground.

She was here. Of course she was.

And there she stood. In her black tank, showing between her opened and collared olive green button down, with olive green straight pants to match. She stood in black clarks. Her toffee brown skin being complimented by gold chains and gold bangles. Her medium-long locs held back in a hair tie in a loose bun.

Damn. She always looked good. But she would be looking her absolute best when you’ve been semi-dodging her.

If you know me, I'm having the time of my life

Don't you slow me down, beg you pardon me

I wanna just party (yeah)

I wanna just, I wanna just

I wanna just party (yeah)

I wanna just party, yeah

She walked back and forth the backyard stage, she captured the entire audience and held them hostage with her stage presence. If you weren’t in such a state of shock, you’d be in awe too. She was alluring in that way.

Sabi looked back at you from the crowd with wide, just-as-shocked-as-you-are eyes. Koffee spotted her and followed her gaze, making eye contact with you. There she stood, taking you in. Almost immediately, she gives you a warm expression with soft eyes and a wide smile, showing off her braces. A couple people looked back to see who or what she was looking at; others continued to vibe.

Instantly you felt your body heat up, and you failed an attempted fight not to smile back. You missed her, and she looked great, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty for letting so much time go by. However, something was telling you that she wasn’t phased very much. Seeing her up there in her element, you couldn't help but to think back to when the two of you first met at Reggaefest. She had been on the rise, heavy in the media, and the crowd was absolutely losing it. She had amazing stage presence. She wasn't too harmful on the eyes either. She went right after Lila Ike, who's dancers you choreographed. Koffee and her dancers walked up to the end of the stage and took a collaborated bow, hand in hand. Thank you Reggae Sumfest! You sat sideline, watching in awe. Her set was amazing.

Not to mention she wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. She had on a pair of light blue shorts, accented with white lines, a plain white tee, a blue fitted and AF1’s that looked like she bought them right before this set. Neck and wrists laced with that Caribbean gold. Her skin was glowing and glistening, sweat parading the circumference of it. Her locs were out, falling and standing right beneath her shoulders. With her team following, she walked and exited stage right, where you had been standing. She looked at you, and your rose your hands to clap for the artist, giving a closed-lip smile. She stopped in front of you gave you a small bow and a smile, appreciating your acknowledgement. You killed it, are you kidding?

A dat yuh seh?! She exclaims and smiles brightly. Respect, respect mama, thank you. Her speaking voice was just astonishing as her singing voice. The accent wasn’t making it any better either. What's your name? Y/N. She hummed at the sound of your name and repeats it. Y/N. I saw you and your dancers dem inna Lila's rehearsal. You have nuff talent. I'm a fan honestly. You scoffed in disbelief, shrugging off the compliment. Oh please. If any one should be a fan, it's me. Well I'd love if you came by one of the rehearsals. Y-you want me to choreograph? Absolutely. She stood trying to read your expression. Not sure if you were happy about the idea. I mean if yuh nuh want to, yuh nuh have to-- No I'd love to. Cool. She smiled brightly. Gimmi yuh numba and mi wi sen yuh all e details dem. If that's ok with you, of course. Yes of course. She takes out her phone and you type in your information. "Y/N." It was nice meeting you officially, Koffee. You can call me Mikayla. The pretty girls nuh have to call me by fi mi stage name. She throws you and wink and walks off to meet back up with her crew. If you weren't a professional at work and if you didn't have any morals, your clothes would be off. You felt your cheeks warm-up and you began to smile against your will. Not knowing this job opportunity would lead into a far more deeper connection.

You came back to reality, visited with a bittersweet feeling of a fond but seemingly distant memory. How did you get here?

She performed a few more songs before making her way off stage to navigate through the crowd and do her rounds with all her people. Panicked seized you as you ran to grab your friend.

“We gotta go, neowwww” You grab Sabi’s arm and begin tugging her away from whoever she had been dancing with and towards the direction you so desperately wanted to go in.

“N-now? But we just got here!” She replies in a semi-whiney tone. You in fact had been there for a couple of hours.

“Yes now— JJ! You ready?” You ask him.

“You ready to go?” He whisper-mouths. You nod & he takes a small sip of his red-stripe beer, taps his friends next to him and off you guys were.

As the two of you approached the resort again, a feeling of relief washed over you. You were somewhat disappointed that you let your anxiety take over you, but at least you left before you were confronted. And you knew you would be.

You hug the boys and thank them before walking in and heading up to your room.

“That party was active, wasn’t it Sab?” you say, walking in, somewhat telling the truth. somewhat deflecting.

“Yeah, until you busted it, party pooper.”

You drop your jaw and gasp, fake taken aback as if you didn’t know what she was referring to. “Whaaat? me? What did I do?”

“wHaT dId i Do!?” she mocked you. “You chickened out on the vibes cuz your girlfriend came and you dodging her.”

“I did not! And she is not my girlfriend.” You start picking things up around y’all room and tidying up, needing something to focus you.

“Nah, Y/N/N, you on some wack shit right now, I won’t even front.”

She wasn’t wrong. If she did want to talk, what was the harm? She didn’t even do anything to you. But what if she hated you? And now you made it even worse, because she SAW you and you ran. She probably thinks you’re dodging her. But aren’t you? You desperately wished you would get it together.

“I mean what was I supposed to do?” You turned to face her.

“I don’t know, maybe talk to her? I mean what you think she gone say, marry me?” She semi-chuckled.

“K likes you, a lot. I can tell. And I think she’d be really good for you. But you gotta believe that you deserve it. Don’t let your overthinking cause her to slip out of your hands.”

You chewed at your bottom lip in thought, pondering on all of the different ways the night could’ve went. You always did this. Self-sabotage, and then beat yourself up over it. It was starting to get old, even for you.

“Imma let you sit with that. I’ll be back, I’mma hit the bar down in the lobby. Get me another lil drinky-drink, okayyy!” She says grabbing her things and you playfully roll your eyes.

“What? Okay don’t look at me like that, your night is over, not mine!” You give a hefty laugh, and slightly nudge her. You do your signature handshake, and she’s off.

Quickly after she unlocks the door with her key and runs back in.

“Almost forgot my hand fan. You know that liquor coat get serious. K bye love you!” And she’s out again. You laugh to yourself. That girl could drink.

You continue tidying up, even though there’s not much to tidy. But any form of cleaning/organizing grounded you, and now in this moment, you needed nothing more but to be grounded.

You were on your way to sit down when there was a subtle knock at your door. Leave it to Sabi to have forgotten something.

You walked up to the door, unlocked it, and began opening it. “What’d you forget this time S—“

Startled, you jump at the sight of who was actually standing before you.

“M-Mikayla?”

“Oh, so you do know who I am?” She says tauntingly, letting herself in. You close the door behind her, eyes following her movements, still in shock.

“I was starting to think seh yuh did forget about me eno?” And she flashes that smile again.

“How did you find me?” You ask sincerely, feeling sort of turned-on, not that you would admit it.

“The gyal who Sabi cousin deh wid told me you’d be here.” Shelley. I should’ve known. It was no coincidence that out of all people, Koffee would be performing there when I was. It started to click. This was a collaborative effort from Sabi and Shelley.

You gave an exhausted sigh as you prepared to plead your innocence. “Look, K, I didn’t mean to run off how I did I j—“

“Oh so you weren’t dodging me then?” She pries, stepping closer to you, waiting to see if you’d lie.

“I-i mean, no. Well, not on purpose.” You half tell the truth. She wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Oh suh yuh dweet fi accident?” She gives a sarcastic laugh. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and for once, you wish it was from sunburn and not your own shame.

“I just thought..” You paused, debated telling her the truth or not. Awaiting your answer, she folds her arms across her chest and raises her eyebrows.

You decided to give in. She went through all this trouble.

“I don’t know, I ain’t really think you’d be checking for me like that. You know, with everything you got going on.”

Sheepishly, you looked down at your feet, fidgeting with your bracelet, ironically, the one she brought back for you on your second date. She looks down at it, giving a small, satisfied smirk, thankfully feeling not totally closed off from you like she almost thought.

“A mi tell yuh dat?”

You shook your head no.

“So you assumed,” She began. “I mean which part mek yuh feel like seh I wasn’t ‘checking’ for you?” She lightly mocked. “The repeated calls, or the double-triple texts?”

You chuckled bitterly at her sarcasm, and also at the fact that you couldn’t pin her to be wrong.

“If yuh nuh interested anymore,—“ She began and you couldn’t stomach her even continuing that thought.

“No, no.” You quickly interrupted her. You gave a heap of sigh before you would began to be totally honest with both her and yourself at the same time.

“I like you. I really fucking like you. And that’s the problem. You’re charming, you’re charismatic.. you fine…” you say trailing off that last part, making her laugh heartily.

“You have such a big heart. And if I, as the tough cookie and critic that I am can fall for you, I know girls all around the world are. I’d be lying if I said the thought of that didn’t make me ragingly jealous, but I also like you so much, that I don’t wanna deprive you of that opportunity. There could be someone far better for you out there. You could meet her tomorrow, hell, you could’ve met her already. See i’m all over the place and I—“

“Y/N.” She gently grabs your elbow and gives it a tug to bring you closer. “I appreciate your interest in my well-being. But mi neva ask yuh fi do dat, baby.”

“I chose you fi a reason. If mi really felt like seh a somebody better out deh fi mi, mi woulda neva run down yuh phone.” You laugh at her comedic delivery.

“I’m not perfect, but when mi love somebody mi love deep. A you mi want, and I knew that then and I know that now. All mi ask of you is to put it a likkle effort.”

She raises her hand to wipe the couple of tears that began to fall from your eyes. When you finally looked up at her, all you could do was nod. Nobody had ever went these lengths to show you that they cared before, and it meant so much that the person who was doing so was someone you considered your best friend. Mikayla knew you like the back of her hand. She could pull you out of any mood and place you in a better one, no matter the circumstance. And right now in this moment you felt so safe and so seen. And all you could think about was how silly you had been acting, and how silly it would be to let her go.

“Don’t cry baby.” She pulled you close to her and held you tight.

“I-i’m sorry for n-not answering you I—“ You let your vulnerability take over, and she consoled you before you could even get it out.

“Yuh nuh have to explain to me. Just mind yuh nuh pull away from me like that again, y’hear?” She pulls your chin up to her, switching her gaze between both of your eyes.

You lean into her and the two of you share a kiss. A pair of lips you have been longing to feel and haven’t felt in months. Instantly you felt a rush of emotions, all of which you felt when the two of you first met.

“Cuz mi need. All. of dis. yah love yah.” She repeatedly pecked you between each fragment, making you giggle into her lips.

“Okaaay, okay!” You say fake fighting her off. Truthfully you couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be. You wrapped your arms around her neck and hoisted yourself up, locking your legs around her waist. You missed this feeling. You missed her. But you don’t know peace. Not yet.

“.. So who was that girl on stage who was tryna dance with you?” You playfully start an argument.

“Oh nuh start yuh fuckry, Y/N please.” She laughs and carries you out to the next room. And the two of you fall into each other all over again.

#prettymrswright hot ficpic #koffee #koffee x reader #black sapphic

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madameminor · 2 years

Text

In More Ways Than One, Part 6 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Hunter

Summary: You thought it would be a night out. Hunter decides it's finally time for your night in.

Tags: Smutty mcsmutterson. 18+. NSFW. "Basically, all the good stuff."

Warnings: Oral (m/f receiving), sub space, voyeurism, blindfold, bondage, unprotected PiV, anal play, nicknames, mentions of polyamory

EDIT 12/27/2022 Something wasn't sitting right with me, so I updated this chapter changing 'Master' to 'sergeant' on AO3. You kind find the updated chapter here. Whichever you prefer, please continue to enjoy. *bow*

Notes: Y'all. When I tell you that this was a fuckin' journey. When I tell you that this took me months and months of rewriting and scrapping whole plot lines, and perfecting and perfecting until I could not stand the word cock anymore. GUH. And so, so worth it. I give you- the Hunter chapter. This is not the final chapter, I have so much more slutting around in my brain (is that a word? it is now) and it will be glorious. First, though, I'ma take a rest and enjoy the damn holidays. Thank you everyone who cares enough to read, comment, reblog - it all blesses me. I am truly honored. ALRIGHT SHUT UP MADAME GIMME MY PORN. Ok, ok, sheesh. SPECIAL THANKS to @fandumbug and @kaminocasey for being my Beta readers through all 5 months of this!

Word Count: 6K+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

Hunter sits at the top of the steps into the Marauder, leaning against the door frame of the hatch and watching ships glide through the faded yellow sky of Brohet. Various droids waddle and wheel around the docking port that houses the wounded ship, sparks flying occasionally from the aft of the exterior as they tinker and toil. Organized insanity in a fairly small space.

His brain isn’t much better, so he feels comfortable.

His talk with Wrecker out on their mission had given him… ideas. Really, really naughty, incredibly hot ideas. Ideas that had been floated casually into conversation- and received very, very well. And now that they were free and clear of danger, albeit banged up, he was free to… meditate on them. He lay his head back against the door frame, trying to focus his thoughts on current events and anchoring him back to reality.

The mission had been a success. The squad had managed to stay intact (minus a shot to Wrecker’s shoulder), free to tell another story of a harrowing escape, but the ship, well, had not been so lucky: the poor Marauder had limped its way into friendly space with way more damage than Echo and Tech could take care of in a timely manner. They had done what they could before heading to Brohet, leaving the rest to the tireless droids here at the dock.

Commander Core, the reg with their current standing orders, was happy to see them alive.

“Just a flesh wound? That's a relief. That one wasn’t easy,” the Commander said with a satisfied sigh. “Glad it was mostly the ship. How long will that put you out?”

‘With this many droids, shouldn’t be more than a night or two,” Hunter reported from behind tented hands and interlocked fingers. “We’ll be on our way by midnight tomorrow, latest.”

The holo-image nodded. “Better than I thought. In that case, take a night in town. Get some good food, sleep in a real bed. You’ve earned it.”

Hunter smiled. You would be pleased. “Is that an order?”

The commander’s laugh was a bark, more jovial than harsh. “HAH. It is now.” He threw a quick informal salute. “Keep out of trouble, I’ll see you when you get here.”

Hunter smirked to himself as he ended the transmission. Didn’t the commander know? His squad was nothing BUT trouble.

He glances over to where his squad waits close by – Tech talking with Echo. Wrecker is benching one of the boxes full of parts despite his injury. Crosshair’s sitting on more boxes, looking up at the sky and chewing away at his toothpick. All waiting patiently for you to grace them with your unarmored presence- even if it took an extra 30 minutes. It was usually quite worth it, and you said you had a new outfit you wanted to wear…

You know, they wouldn’t mind if you kept her in tonight.

Hunter shoos the voice away, sitting up a little straighter. Perhaps they wouldn’t – but he can hold out a bit longer. He’s waiting for something, he doesn’t know what, but he’s patient. He’d know the moment. His instincts have never failed him before, it would be silly to start doubting them now. Reassured, he settles in to wait- just in time to hear footsteps coming from the bunks. Guess it was time.

“Ready to go, Sarge?”

He looks over to you, ready to tease about how he has BEEN ready to-

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

The rest of the squad pauses as Hunter looks into the Marauder- and freezes.

Tech glances at Echo, who shrugs before glancing back at their leader. Without looking at them, Hunter throws out the bag of credits they’d be using for the night, caught in midair by Crosshair with a quizzical lift of an eyebrow.

“Sorry fellas. Looks like you’re on your own tonight.” Hunter says, standing up. He glances out at them with a smirk, a satisfied glint to his eyes. “And, uh… probably best you don’t come back til tomorrow.” With that he pulls a lever, the ramp slowly closing and sealing shut with its tell-tale hiss-

And just like that, they’re alone.

There’s silence for a moment…then two…then three…

“FINALLY!” Wrecker exclaims, dropping the box and turning with his hands behind his head, starting to walk out of the docking area. “What’s good to eat around here?” The others follow him, one smirking around a toothpick, one smiling into a data pad (already looking up local fare)- and one chewing his lip, lingering a moment behind before following the rest.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You weren’t quite sure what to expect when you walked out in this new outfit.

You knew you looked good. You’d chosen this look because it balanced well- enough skin to feel sexy, but enough fabric to still appropriately represent the G.A.R. The color was one of your favorites to wear because you worked it well. You know that if you’d shown this to your friends at home, that would be cat-calling you all the way to the register. You didn’t know if the boys were really interested in what you wore- you mostly dressed for yourself anyway, but hopefully there was a nod, or a smile, or even a long, appraising look.

So you weren’t sure what to expect - it certainly wasn’t this.

You had walked out flouncing, flirty, ready to go - only to be completely pinned to the spot by the heated interest of your Sergeant. You couldn’t move as he stood, sent the boys away, closed the hatch. You watched the door to the marauder raise up, sealing away the outside world.

Now Hunter turns to look at you - and the excitement in his eyes makes you shiver. Oh. This is it, that moment he’s been waiting for. And all you can do is stand there.

His eyes t r a c e up your body, gaze caressing everything he sees. He walks up to you without a word, savoring your palpable anticipation. Stars, can he hear how quickly your heart is beating? He’s so close, his hand tracing across your cheek. “Hunter…?…”

His lips find yours, kissing you until you’re up against the wall. One hand weaves into your hair, tightening deep in your roots, not for pain, for control. It’s tight and taut and you’re overwhelmed by the sense of desire, passion, power that pulsates from his body pressing against yours. He releases your lips gently, fingers still tight, his nose to yours. You hear him growl under his breath, against your lips, like he’s savoring the word that rolls off his tongue.

“Mine.”

You have no words, only shivers pooling through your higher brain functions, calming, relaxing, sedating- so that the rest of you can feel, adapt, enliven. He watches your eyes start to glaze over, his domination already taking effect.

“You trust me?” He rumbles against your lips, barely keeping himself from ravaging them.

“Yes, sir.” You aren’t doing much better. Your body begs against his, baser desires sending pheromones dancing through the air. His eyes narrow with dark, roiling lust, his other hand tracing up to your neck and gently pressing against your throat. You moan as your head falls back towards the grip in your hair, begging him to continue.

His voice wrestles with restraint. “Safeword?”

“Meiloorun-,” you squeak. And without thinking... “-Master.”

His eyes flick to yours, and where you were afraid there would be distaste, there is only surprise- surprise that cools into a simmering, delighted satisfaction.

“Say that again. My title.”

“...Master.”

His hand pulses tighter around your throat, pushing out a wanton moan. He growls through a grin,watching you beneath him.

“Sounds so perfect when you’re so… breathless.”

He kisses you once more, slower, more possessive, back under his own control. You feel his smirk as he pulls away from you, releasing you from his grip- but not before looking down into your eyes and commanding- “Show me what you wore for me.”

You almost whimper as he releases you and sits in the cockpit chair just behind him, eyes dark, hungry, ready. Only training keeps you from falling at his feet and begging him for more. That- and the blossoming burning desire to please him.

He’s removing his gloves, eyes still trained on you. You let everything fall back the way it looked pre-ravishing, feeling the stroke of his eyes as you start to turn for him, relishing in his attentions.

“Beautiful,” he muses behind you, with true reverence in his voice. You smile as you finish your turn, basking in such simple praise.

“Thank you, Master.” So SO keen to please him, to feel him press up against you again…

“Now. Take it off.”

The tone in his voice leaves no room to do anything different. Hands drift to undo zippers and buttons, hinting at more flesh with each release of fabric. Making sure he’s watching, you slowly turn your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you let it all drop, leaving nothing but the lace panties you bought for shoreside framing your ass the way it looks best.

His sharp intake of breath sends your sub side simpering- he liked that. You turn back around to await further orders, and to let him stare at what belongs to him.

His gaze lingers, taking you in, relishing in what he sees. His eyes soften, though still filled with heat. He holds out his hand to you, inviting you forward. You take it carefully, feeling his warm, rough skin enveloping yours. He pulls you on top of him- thighs straddled, arms on his shoulders, face inches away. He gently strokes the side of your face with his fingertips, thumb stopping at your bottom lip as his hand curls to gently hold your chin.

He kisses you possessively, gently biting your lower lip as he pulls you in closer. With a whimper you let your tongue seek entry, and he grants it. Shivers overwhelm you at the feeling of his tongue meeting yours, the tenderness burning to passion with a satisfying flood of pleasured moans. His fingers trace over your body, your thighs, your lower cheeks and up to your back- your hips, against the swell of your breasts. Every curve feels seen and caressed by his steady hands, massaging, tracing, kneeding, in more ways than one. So careful and caring and kind, taking their pleasure so patiently…

But you want MORE. And you’re starting to get impatient.

You find the clips of his breastplate, craving his bare skin beneath yours – only to feel his hands take yours, pulling you away from him despite your petulant whine. His look is stern, but not unkind.

“Not yet. Knees.”

You try not to pout, you really do, but you want him now. He raises an eyebrow, and the thought of his displeasure cows you immediately. You reluctantly move to slide between his thighs, his strong arms balancing you until your knees find the cool durasteel. His near-smile is almost reward enough, hand caressing the side of your face as you settle. You lean into it, dreading to be so far away from your Master’s warmth.

“That’s my girl,” he reassures you. But there’s a glint in his eye. “Your turn to watch.”

Your hands clench where they’ve come to rest against his thigh plates. Your punishment for getting impatient? Just to watch?

He starts to take off his upper body armor, a piece at a time – not as a show, but not in a rush. You watch his languid movements as he finally pulls off his under armor shirt, revealing his tawny colored torso, his muscles flexing in the low light as he slides the shirt up, over, and onto the ground. You catch your breath at the rippling, one hand moving forward reflexively to touch him before you stop yourself, pulling your hand back towards your chest.

He can feel your excitement at watching him, can’t he? His smile is small, recognizing your obedience. He leans back into the chair, hands finding a place to rest over his head, leaving him bare under your gaze.

“Go on.”

Your eyes flick up to meet his for a moment, confirming his permission. Gently, lovingly, you slide your hands over his stomach and up to his chest, following the valleys of his muscles. He’s so gorgeous like this, so perfect. So kissable. You bring your lips to the center of his chest, trailing delicate kisses down to his belly button, nuzzling between the bumps of his abdomen. His chest lifts in a satisfied sigh. His hand slowly cards through your hair as you revere him, worship him, glancing up to see him hungrily watch you lavish everything that he is.

You trace his stomach with your hands, tracing the outline of muscles as they lead down to his groin. Beautiful. Sculpted. Breathtaking. You can feel the warmth pooling in your low belly as you lean forward to kiss along the valleys between muscles. Your kisses drift lower, meeting fabric and plastoid.

You look up to where he’s watching you, one hand on the head rest, the other still in your hair. He nods, granting you permission. Your fingers find the clips holding his codpiece in place and deftly free them with a click, moving the plastoid piece to the pile next to him with eyes still fastened to the bulge kept at bay by black fabric. You carefully pull back the pliant material, his cock springing eagerly to your hand.

Your breath catches as you take in the most intimate part of him. You look past it to him. He smirks, satisfied with your interest. You gently take him in your hand with an experimental pump or two, reveling in the quiet gasp hissing through his teeth at the contact. His pleasure sends your whole pussy aquiver, the shiver running up and through you.

You start where you can, licking the tip clean with your tongue, looking up at him to make sure he’s watching his good girl taste him for the first time. Oh the pleasure in those delighted eyes as he watches you taking the head into your mouth, tongue snaking down and around his ridges and veins.

Your tongue traces up his frenulum as you openly lavish his cock, taking him into your mouth and slowly sinking down his shaft, letting him feel your soft lips envelop him. He swears under his breath while he watches, hands gripping the head rest above him to let you work unmolested.

You start to bob at a gentle pace, hand following close behind your mouth for added pressure, slicking him with your spit, clenching as you think about riding him just like this. Your head starts to move faster, hungry to taste more of him, to have him inside of you, the first time he fills you. You quicken your pace at the thought, moaning, caring little for how you look or sound, solely focused on enjoying the grunts and strained moans coming from above you.

“Look at me.”

You look at him, unwilling to slow down, you want it so bad.

“Yes, like that. Good girl.”

He holds your head up by your hair and starts to thrust on his own, groaning up to the ceiling before bearing down on you again. His breath quickens, his hand tightens. You look up to him with pleading eyes. He’s so close, so close to giving you what you want so desperately.

He meets your eyes, bucking up against your uvula. “I’m going to cum. You’ll be good and take it all, won’t you? For me?”

You whimper around his cock in reply.

With a deep breath you open your throat and let him in. He cums with a strangled groan, thrusting each time as far as he can, your nose touching flesh. His heavy breathing fills the space around you as his thrusts get shorter and shorter, eventually stilling with a satisfied sigh. You slowly slide up and off, bobbing your head once as a parting gift, before releasing him.

There’s almost a growl as one hand grips your chin. He leans forward to kiss you, capturing your tongue with his, tasting himself on you. You mewl into it, trying not to gasp as his other fingers find your vulva, tracing through the juices practically weeping from your pussy.

“I could hear you clenching.” He growls against your lips, still held to him by your chin. “Could smell how wet you were getting from taking my cock like that.”

You can only buck into his hand, his fingers wetting themselves as one starts to slide into you. His grip on your chin keeps you from looking away, his eyes holding yours as you moan out his title. “Master-”

An incoming com beeps from the pile of armor. Without removing his finger from inside you, he releases your face to answer it.

“Echo.” Calm, not angry, eyes back to yours while he slowly pumps the finger in you.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir, Tech insisted on sending food, wouldn’t bring it himself. I’m leaving it here on some supply crates by the front.”

Hunter’s eyes glint, a flash for only you to see. “You’re inside the docking bay?”

“Yes sir, food is just inside to the left.”

“Let me make sure I see it.” The hand with the live com braces against your hip, but his other hand doesn’t move from your pussy. He lifts you up, sitting you on his lap, facing away from him- then he spins, and you’re facing outside the ship. And looking right at Echo.

You see him go still as he realizes what’s happening, what he’s seeing. Your face begins to burn, but so does your pussy, living for the look of desire that is slowly surfacing on your lover’s face.

“Perfect, I see it.” Hunter says into the com, his hands strangely absent, probably relishing how this is making you feel. “Do me one more favor, keep her distracted.”

Wait, what?

You barely see the red of his bandana before it clamps over your eyes. Your body tenses at how intensely everything is magnified- you can smell the sex in the air, Hunter’s scent, can taste him on your lips. You can feel his warmth behind you. So warm, so solid. He pulls you back against him, fingers returning to your soaked hole, and you suddenly remember: Echo is watching. Echo is watching.

You hear a thump, the com landing on a neighboring seat, his warm hand returning to hold one of your thighs up, his lips nestled by your ear.

“He’s still standing there, watching you take me.” You hear the smirk in his voice as his fingers trace through your lips, spreading them for his own access. “Can’t look away.”

You clench with a gasp- he’s still watching, wanting to watch you taken by his Sergeant- “it makes you even more beautiful.” Fingers slide into you, gently working against your tender spots, pumping through your slick.

Hunter’s own lust starts to take over. “I left the com line open,” he says, with a nip to your ear lobe. “Tell him how good it feels.”

Your head falls back with a moan. Is this really ok? “S-So good. Master’s fingers feel so good, Sir. Pumping me open like this…”

Kriff, Hunter likes this too, you can hear it in his voice, feel it against your lower back. “Do you like him watching you?”

Even more beautiful. You give in, letting him work you open for all to see. “Y-yes I love when he sees me taking you like this. Sees me taking our sergeant like this.” Kriff you are so close so quickly just by him watching.

“Good. Say his name, then.” You can hear the lewd wet of his slick fingers over your moaning whimpers as they pump you to completion. You had no idea you could fly this high.

“Echo…” you cry, nearly in tears as you feel yourself start to cum. “Echo, please, it feels so good. Please watch me cum on his fingers, Echo!”

Quietly, over com, you hear a fevered plea dressed up as a command. “Cum for him, cyar’ika…”

You cry out as you cum, clenching in spasms around the fingers working you through, imagining wide, lust-blown, amber eyes from a pale face aching to see more-

Fingers slow as you come down before withdrawing, leaving you panting in warm, safe arms.

“You did very well, mesh’la,” Hunter says into your hair. You whimper in reply, curling up against him, face buried in his neck. He raises his voice, tone amused. “Thanks for the assist, corporal.”

The reply is strangled, overwhelming desire in its throes. “Of course.”

The com line closes.

You feel Hunter spin the chair around and pick you up in his arms. You cuddle, panting, into his chest as he stands, making his way to the back of the ship- to your bunk.

You’re lain down in your bed, warm lips finding yours to settle you, reassure you, pressing you into the mattress. Your fingers nestle in his hair, strangely bandana-less, perfect for you to hold while nuzzling in this brief mid-after care.

Very brief. “Master?” You whisper against his kiss, enjoying the feeling against your lips

You feel him smile. “More?”

“More, please.”

You feel him take your hand and place it on the small of his back.

“I’m taking off the rest of my armor. Don’t break contact. Keep your hand on me.”

You do as you’re told, imagining what he must be doing from the sounds in your ears- sitting on the edge of the bed, his boots, his knee pads, his thigh gauntlets, his under armor…

Then he’s turning toward you, your hand taken and kissed before being guided over his shoulder as his warm skin slides over yours, his mouth gently trailing kisses from your collar bone up your neck. A small cry escapes you. You can’t help the quiet noise at such a gentle touch so magnified- kisses trailing up to your ear.

His fingers are in your hair again, gently moving your head to face away, lips finding the crook of your neck with teeth just behind. You can’t stop the wanton gasp as he nips- not strong enough to leave a mark, but enough to make you buck against him, grinding up against where your pelvis meets the top of his. “Master…”

He takes a deep breath, face burying itself in your neck. “I know, pet. You just smell…amazing.”

Far be it from you to be the one to keep him from his pleasure.

He holds your hands up above your head as his lips seek yours. “Crosshair told me you might need… a bit of help at showing restraint.” Fabric slips over your hands, firmly tightening around your wrists- not enough to hurt, but enough to know you aren’t going anywhere. You whimper lightly, testing your bonds, but he’s there at your ears, at your neck, kissing, soothing. “I’m here. You trust me?”

“Y-Yes Master.”

With your hands safely secured above your head his kisses start to trail down, nuzzling among your breasts, nipping at their curves, eliciting tiny wiggling whimpers before continuing towards your belly button. The contrast between smooth and sharp has you twisting in your bonds, testing their hold on you and attesting to your Master’s skill with knots. It becomes harder to stay still as he kisses lower, nips softer, until he’s just above your panties, soaked through, still trying to do their one job. You feel the wet of his tongue over the fabric separating him from your lower lips, your head falling back in a longing moan.

He raises your legs up so your lingerie is lifted off- but he doesn’t let them come back down. Instead you feel fabric wrapping behind each knee, legs spread not uncomfortably, but definitely not demurely. As he leans away, your legs stay where they are- tied up and open. Your pussy pulses with nervous, aching excitement.

There’s silence for a moment.

“M-Master?”

“Still here, pet. You just…you look stunning like this.” His voice sounds heavy with desire. “Good enough to eat.”

As if to emphasize his point, you feel lips on the inside of your thigh, one hand based just below you as you feel him slide his body down before you, his warm breath finding its way in kisses down towards your weeping pussy. You grab your wrists’ bonds to help you stay still, hips aching to buck, to entice him lower, where you crave him the most, where you need him the most.

“Your smell is just…” a kiss at your hip, “It’s always been just…” a nip at your inner thigh, “Stars know how I was able to resist you for this long…” his nose nudging your clit ever. so. gently.

-You feel him taste your pussy, yelping at the pleasured intensity of his tongue amid your folds, your head thrown back as he starts to devour you thoroughly. His fingers tighten around your thighs, pulling your hips closer to him. “Karking hell, you taste amazing. Knew you would.”

Something about not being able to see, to touch, makes you louder, makes you so much more reactionary. You scream, you moan, you cry, you try not to buck up against him, but its so hard when he knows just how to ride your gyrating hips.

Without meaning to, you come once, then twice in quick succession, almost incapable of stopping the blissful waves crashing through you as his tongue tastes inside of you. You feel what must be him rutting into the standard issue mattress supporting you both, like he could cum by just eating you out so thoroughly. His tongue lavishes your clit, fingers gently returning to your messy hole to stretch it even more, curling up to hit that unreal point of pleasure that sends you crying into your third orgasm. You feel yourself gush over his fingers, feeding his ravenous moans. “That’s right pet, good girl, give me another one.” Then he’s fucking you with two fingers, opening you, hitting as deep as he can while his mouth closes around your clit, slightly pulsating you through to a fourth.

Thank the gods for these bonds- you’re limp and boneless, unable to do anything but feel. And there’s so much to FEEL. Endless pleasure, pleasure without end. With your nerves so focused like this, you feel you could fly forever.

You can feel his finger start to trace over your lower hole, soaked with your own juices. You gasp as his digit presses against the ring of tightened muscle while his mouth continues to lavish your lower lips. Its strange, but not unpleasurable. Slowly, carefully, he slides his finger inside of you, kissing against your thigh.

“Relax, pet. I’ve got you. Just my finger today.” You moan at the sensation of him starting to slide in and out of your ass, taking you with your own wet and opening you up for his use, his pleasure. You relax around his finger with a groan, giving in to being completely at his mercy, under his control. Nervous energy falls away as you let your legs relax into your bonds. Your moans sound in tandem with his thrusts, your hips moving to meet each pulse as you relax around the new size.

You feel him kiss the inside of your thigh, breath heavy, a growl emerging as he watches you take his whole finger deeper with every thrust. “You’ll take all of us in here before long, won’t you? Let us take you two, even three at a time?”

“Y-Yes, Master, oh please don’t stop, Master I’m going to come with you like this.” He laps at your pussy with renewed hunger, eager to taste you gush again. Fuck, his finger, his tongue, his pumping, his presence, its so much, its so damn much and it feels so amazing and you’re about to fly so high you swear you may never come down-

You feel him groan against your pussy, voice lust-laden and needy. “Karking hell, woman, your pleasure feels so damn GOOD.”

You feel your whole body convulse around him, his fingers, this feeling- The moaning cry comes from deep in your throat, whole bodied, unabashed and raw, a cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure as you cum for the fifth time.

His fingers leave both holes relaxed and empty, almost sated- until you feel his cock at your entrance, slicking himself in your wet. His voice is a low growl, speaking to himself more than you.“Don’t think that I’m done yet. Fuck, do you feel how hard I am? How much I love watching you give yourself to me so completely?” He groans into his words.

In the silence that follows, filled only with your mutual panting, you feel him breach you, starting to push in, one wet inch at a time, stretching you to take all of him. “Master… MASter! Oh gods, so big. You’re so big!”

He bottoms out with a gruff moan. “Fuck so tight, and you sucked me right in. Pussy so hungry for my cock, aren’t you?”

The darkness around your eyes lifts as his bandana is thrown to the floor- you’re looking up at your Master, his eyes so dark with lust and pleasure, all for you. His clean hand cups the side of your face as he starts to fuck into you, breath heavy with groaning, his forehead pressed to yours, his lips hot and hungry as his tongue plunders your mouth. Tied up as you are you can’t reach out to him, only let him take you, plunder you for your sweetness, for his pleasure. He emerges panting, thrusts still slow but strong. He groans through his teeth, head falling to your neck, fingers wrapped in your hair as he picks up the pace, frantically pulsing into you as hard as he can.

He’s hitting you right there, right karking there, just the way you need it to build up again, and as you feel yourself shudder into your orgasm, your body starts to unravel. “Gods I’m coming I’m coming sir it feels so good I can’t stand it Master I’m falling apart I’m coming so hard Master please.” You’re crying with the sheer intensity of it, the joy and pleasure of cumming around his length hitting you in a spot almost unreachable, tears running down through your hair as you surrender to this man, this Master of yours who can make you feel so fucking alive by just obeying orders. He comes with a growling cry, pounding in to you as far as he can go, hot seed coating your eagerly waiting walls. You’re frantically panting as your orgasm rolls on and on, the two of you coming together longer than you thought possible. You’re whimpering, completely losing all composure, bonds catching you as you melt.

And then there are his lips against yours, loving, kind, gentle, finding your pieces and putting them back together again, moving gently in you to be sure you’re riding out your high. A kiss that reaches down to your toes, claims you body and soul with its affection. His forehead stays to yours as you both breathe into each other, feeling the other coming down off of the blissful ride you both took.

He cups your face, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“I want to hold you. Let me untie you?”

You lick your lips, checking in to hear what your body needs. “…Yes, please. Just… don’t pull out yet?”

His eyes soften, grateful you’re asking for what you want. He presses his forehead to yours again. “Of course, mesh’la.” He stays leaned against you, holding you to him while he gently unties your wrists with a quick pull. He kisses them as they’re released from their bonds, making sure you see with your eyes the care he is giving to them. He places your hands on his chest while he leans back, lightly tugging on the bonds at your knees, carefully guiding each back down to your bed, massaging them gently to ease any soreness. Only then does he pull out, slowly, so you have time to adjust

He lets his body press against yours, grounding you while you come down, staying calm, present, aware. Your eyes flutter as your body starts settling in, your brain high on the plethora of chemicals swirling around. You breathe him in, the smell of him heady and soothing as you settle into the calming gravity of his presence. You reach up to touch his face, tucking his hair behind his ear and tracing lines over his tattoo.

Its hard to say anything. You don’t WANT to say anything. What do you say after something like that? The words you think to use are…too soon, probably motivated by the space you’re emerging from. So all you do is gaze, tracing his tattoo, memorizing every line of his face. He smiles, kissing your hand and leaning into it.

“Do you need anything?”

Your eyes search his face, evaluating, taking stock of how you are. You can’t help but smile at your own answer.

“Just you.”

Hunter smiles, feeling your heart slow. He settles beside you, clean hand pulling up covers and caressing skin. “Right here, your majesty.”

You turn on your side and lean fully into his chest, breathing in his calming presence, kissing whatever skin you find, unable to stop showing adoration for this man lying before you. Right here, right now, you can feel it - he’s yours here. Not your Sergeant, not your Master, just Hunter, pulling you to him, longing for you, only satisfied with your touch. He kisses you from his heart, reaching down into your soul to fill you, caress you. He nuzzles you, whispering softly for only you to hear.

“Mine.”

Verbally its a declaration, but he’s asking you. His, for his brothers, for his squad. His to care for, his to protect. You’ll follow him because you trust him, and he’ll let you because he trusts you. For life, or at least, however long it works.

You don’t have to think long about your answer.

“Yes, sir. All yours.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s several hours before either of you can pull away. You talk, you laugh, you share your feelings and insights and previous misgivings, but you don’t pull away. Something that intense is almost magical, and you can’t help but feel claimed. More claimed than bite marks on your neck, or claimed in front of your peers. Claimed down to your soul. All of them are with you now, the circle complete. A strange commitment, an unspoken vow. Hunter was the final seal on your heart.

Gross. How are you even thinking like this?

You mention it to Hunter, and he laughs along with you. Mushy? Maybe.

True? Definitely.

“Why do you think we did it this way, your majesty?” He smirks into your hair.

You snuggle in closer, feeling his heart beat against your nose. “I like that you still call me that.”

His voice is amused. “You think I wouldn’t?”

“Well…” How could he, after everything that just happened?

"Hm. I still enjoy that part of you, mesh’la. That won’t change. I just…” His hand squeezes around your thigh, his voice growing a shade darker. “like you on your knees too.”

You receive it all with a delighted gasp. Everything you could have wanted.

“Hunter,” you look up at him, struggling for the right words as he waits with a smile. Taking your time, that's what you had both just enjoyed so thoroughly. But how could you say what you wanted to say without leaping ahead? What were the words you wanted?

Mmm. Those will do.

“...I’m happy,” you beam up into his eyes. “I’m really, really happy.”

He smiles back, nuzzles you, kisses your waiting lips with his forehead to yours.

“Us too, pet. We are too.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Echo left his brothers downstairs. It had been hours and he still couldn’t get the sound of your cries out of his head. Fuck, it was so hot, thinking about what you were doing with Hunter, but HEARING part of it was… SEEING part of it was… it didn’t help that he was drunk now, imagining what you were going to look like in the morning, hearing the boys talk about how you squealed, or how your eyes rolled back, or how you tasted.

He couldn’t hold it anymore- he feigned exhaustion, “too drunk”, to get away to his room. He didn’t even bother taking off his armor, just unfastening his codpiece as he lay in his bed, grateful for his own space tonight.

He played the snippet that he’d caught from Hunter’s com, unable to hear it without touching himself any longer. Fuck you were cumming now, cumming for him again. He groaned, as he feverishly pumped his cock.

“That’s right cyar’ika. Oh kriff yes, that’s right, be good for me cyare and cum. Let him make you come, come on cyare, that’s it, that’s my cyare, cum for me again baby. FUCK you’re doing so good, one more for me baby, one more. Let me hear him take you higher one more time. Thaats it, good girl cyare, that’s my cyar’ika. Fuck I’m going to… just like that cyare, let me cum listening to him fuck you so good. My cyar’ika getting fucked…so…good…’

He came with a shudder, making a mess all over his hand and his hips. He breathed deeply, letting himself enjoy the moment before the embarrassment settled in. He hadn’t told anyone but you how hot it was to think of you with other men.

But Hunter knew. Of course Hunter knew. And he’d used it to such amazing ends. But was it… really ok? How much he loved to see you moaning for him at the other end of a brothers soaked fingers…

He felt his dick stir again and he started ripping off his armor, desperately getting himself to the fresher.

It was going to be a very long night.

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