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#x gn!reader
The Sweetest Thing
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Jake Lockley x GN!Reader • Rating: T •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •
Summary: A heatwave hits London
🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜
A/N: Set in London.
Warnings: Just some fluffy fluff, swearing, reader isn't american so there's a little playful celsius vs fahrenheit moment, jokey mention of foot stuff (which I am blaming @romanarose for, for no other reason that they are the Foot Stuff gender neutral King.), over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 669
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You sigh heavily, shoulders slumped as you just stand in the chilled food section of sainsbury's. 
Despite it being a little after 8am London was so hot  it was like it was trying to rival the surface of the sun. 
And the humidity… disgusting. 
Why did you have to live in one of the seemingly dampest countries that still expected people to work and use public transport and just live without most buildings and businesses not having air conditioning. It was inhumane. 
Jake appeared at your side, grinning. Despite the oppressive heat (given that it was quite cool in the supermarket) he somehow managed to not melt into a puddle on the floor. 
“How are you not sweating?” You grumble and he laughs. 
“I sweat.” 
“You’re a fucking liar, you know that?” The smile in your voice made him laugh louder. 
“Sure, sure. Hmm, maybe it's secret moon god perks?” 
“Tell Khonshu I will be his foot of the night or whatever if it means I don’t feel sticky and gross.” 
“Foot?” He wheezes.
“Yeah, you’re his fisting of the night and-”
Jake spluttered as you both walked to the self service machines. 
“I’ll be the one that does the kicking.”
“So,” he scanned the tub of ice cream, glancing at you. Thankfully there were practically no queues at this time on a Tuesday morning. “I’m doing fisting? But you’re just doing kicking? Shouldn’t you be doing foot stuff at the very least.” 
You tried to give him a look and not laugh. You did not succeed. “Can’t he at least make a breeze or something?” 
Jake smiled and shook his head. 
“What kind of god can’t even do that?” You grumble.
Jake pays and takes his receipt, holding your hand as you walk towards the sliding doors. 
“What if we don’t go, what if we stay and live in here? It’s cool?” 
“Can’t do that baby.”
“Why?” You grumble, pouting a little. You know what you’re saying makes no sense but the heat has made you grumpy. 
Jake snorts. “You’re looking forward to it. You’ve been talking about it all week.” 
“Yeah, that was before London decided that 38c was a good temperature.”
Jake opens his mouth, a shit eating grin on his face. 
“I do not want to hear about fahrenheit. Or  how it was hotter in America when you were there.” 
He blows a kiss to you. “You know me too well.” 
“Hmm. You’re predictable more like.” 
He mock gasps. “I’m insulted.” 
“You love it.” 
He smiles again, squeezing your hand in his. He does love it. Loves that he’s put down roots. That you can guess what silly comment he’s going to make and tease him for it. 
The air outside of the nice cool supermarket hits you like the air of a just opened oven. Two steps out and you’re already sweating. 
Jake leads you to the brick wall slightly down the road, the one that is bathed in shade by an old magnolia tree and sits, encouraging you to do the same. 
He takes the lid of the ice cream carefully. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Eating ice cream.” He says matter of factly, “you want some?” 
“How you gonna eat that?” 
“Ahh,” he grins again and pulls out something from his pocket with a flourish. It takes you a moment to recognise it as a swiss army knife. “Glad I can still surprise you.” He flicks it open and shows you a small metal spoon. 
You laugh. “Very impressive.”
“As long as you don’t mind sharing my salvia.” 
You pull a pretend thinking face for a moment that amuses Jake no end. “Hmm, well considering some of the things we’ve done… I think I’m okay with it.” 
“Good.” He digs the spoon in and then holds it out to you, letting you have the first bite. 
You lean forward, but dart to the side at the last second and steal a soft kiss from his lips. He was the sweetest thing around anyway.                                            
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sockmeat · 2 months
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Alastor in rut but instead of him being horny he's just really lovey
This man is trying so hard, bringing you shit and killing your enemies just so you think he's a worthy mate
If you're already in a relationship, he's so much clingier than usual. This mf is literally hovering around you and using any excuse to touch you
He also gets a lot more possessive than usual, getting upset if anybody takes your attention away from him (he's less patient with men than he is with women)
So obviously he has to claim his territory, and he does that by dressing you in a lot of red and making sure your outfits are always matching
He's only a little embarassed about it when he's back to normal
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spdrvyn · 3 months
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thoughts about miguel before i go to bed because i have a sudden creative burst and i need to release it otherwise i'm going to implode, i just love him so much, you guys, it's actually painful
miguel tends to stare a lot. not in a creepy way that has you wanting to put a lock on your face, but the way that he does it just makes you melt. there's nothing more than pure adoration that he has for you, it makes you question a times what exactly is so special that gives his gaze the power to melt you into a puddle.
he usually stops though when you notice. when you ask him about it, he dismisses your claim with a flick of his wrist and a "ah, it's nothing" even though you know damn well that it's something. sometimes, when you two don't say anything, just staring into each other's eyes, you're rewarded with a sweet kiss.
miguel's also big (not just in that way because i know what you're thinking, you whore), it's rubbed into your face basically wherever you go at home. taking off your shoes and leaving at the door only to look down and see a giant's footwear right next to them, getting a stain on your shirt due to a messy outing for dinner and having to wear his gargantuan jacket to cover it has your head reeling.
adding onto that, he is also touchy in the very subtle way that gets you all hot and bothered. barely a few minutes into your morning routine as usual, you can feel the hard contour of miguel's bare stomach press up behind you. his toned arm enters your vision as he reaches for something in one of the high cabinets, morning voice straight into your ear mumbling a small "lo siento" before he walks away and leaves you so dumbfounded.
he'll put a hand on your waist to gently move you aside if you're blocking the way, more unneeded, quiet apologies slip from his mouth and you get so frustrated that you have to resist the urge to just pull him in and kiss the smarts way from him. whenever you two are resting on the couch, rewatching yours or his favorite movie for the hundreth time and you pipe up with a question on what to order for dinner, where he always answers "whatever you want" with a peck to your cheek, where you always end up steaming hot from such a small gesture, all because of him.
remember what i said about mornings? well, miguel is always a treat in the morning. it's every so often that you two wake up at the same time, he wakes up excruciatingly early, while you are normal. though on days where he doesn't have to be up the same time the rooster crows, you are in for a sight.
you just never expected your life with him to be like this. meeting him first as a large, hunkered down, and emotionally constipated man to being so delicate and warm in the more intimate slices of normalcy that you have the privilege of sharing with him.
every line, every detail about him with you just feels so much softer. eyelashes fluttering as he wakes up, lips puffed out from snoring, and natural curls frayed from shifting in his sleep. beautiful. just beautiful.
don't even get me started on his morning voice. for someone that could command a whole battalion if he wanted to, he sounded so gentle. small rasps and utterances of good morning and i love you that squeeze your heart so tight that it could burst.
sometimes he's too lazy to dress up properly when he gets home from a long day of work, he'll slip on a pair of sweatpants and call it a night. you don't mind though, he's even clingier in the morning. immediately moving towards you when he notices that you've drifted a little too far from him for his liking during your sleep, the skin on skin causes you to shiver every time.
he always knows how to make you feel safe, protected, and loved.
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astarion-approves · 8 months
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Tav making astarion a flower crown?
Astarion x GN! reader
Tav makes a flower crown for Astarion. 400+ words drabble
Fluff, just 100% fluff, short and sweet. Third person. No beta and rushed proof reading.
----
Through the woods and over countless bridges, Tav was always stopping to pick up a flower along the way. Didn’t matter if it was raining, if there was a battle waiting in the distance, or if the team was exhausted and needed to stop for the night— Tav was always grabbing flowers.
None of the others saw exactly what they were doing with them, mostly assuming it had something to do with creating potions or that it dealt with their magical abilities. Sorcerers were always a strange breed after all.
Perhaps chewing on some flowers would grant them the ability to talk to animals or even as a quick caffeine boost. They all paid no mind to it.
At night, for weeks, Tav would sit away from the rest of the group, fiddling with something in their lap, little glows of light coming from them as they worked in silence.
But then, one morning, Astarion woke up to a surprise waiting beside him.
A crown made entirely of flowers, little daisies and peonies, roses and hydrangea, lillies and buttercups, more flowers than he could even name or count. They were shrunken down so that such a wide variety could fit in a single crown. Their stems weaved together in such a delicate and elegant design. Each flower looked like it just bloomed for the first time, even when Astarion recognized some of them as being picked from the ground weeks ago.
“What’s this?” He picked it up with careful hands, and a sudden warmth flowed through his fingertips and down his arms.
“It—“ Tav sat in their own bedroll, watching Astarion as he studied the crown. Tav was nervous, their hands closed together and blush filling their cheeks. “It’s a flower crown.”
Astarion snorted. “Yes, I know that. Allow me to rephrase. Why the flower crown?”
Tav took a breath, their eyes cast down words as they spoke quietly, “We don’t know what the future holds with these tadpoles and… The crown— it’s enchanted. Protection from sunlight. The flowers will absorb any sun that touches you.”
“You’re telling me,” Astarion began, his lips pressing together for just a moment. “That you… made me a crown to protect me from the sun?”
“Y-yes, but I can’t guarantee that it works. I just… I wanted to at least try.”
“Without asking for anything in return?”
Tav shrugged. “We’re friends, why would I?”
Astarion sighed and put the crown on, looking up to the sky he saw that the day was mostly overcast, but it felt like the sun was shining directly on him and keeping him warm.
He would never admit how good it felt.
“Well, how’s it look?” Astarion leaned back, facing Tav and posing with the crown. “Am I still as handsome as ever?”
Tav smiled. “Always.”
It felt strange having someone you barely knew care so much for you… and to expect nothing in return. Now Astarion felt all warm inside, his heart aching as he gazed back at Tav.
And it wasn’t because of the crown.
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fangisms · 6 months
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playfight
A/N: first of all, she is REALLY in her active era, hold the applause. second this is so borderline smutty and disgustingly self indulgent... it had to be done gif creds: @drunkblushed
Pairings: Theodore Nott x GN!Reader
Summary: Theo finds a way to motivate you out of bed. Hint: it includes body heat and physical contact. 0.5k words
Warnings: fluff with like a self indulgent pinch of smuttiness, more like heavy petting and a little spicy, lovesickness
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You'd been inside all day, soaking in the cool tranquility of the Parkinson family lodge. With your group of friends always nearby and a good book always in hand, it can't get better than this.
"Topolina mia..."
Theo calls you like an emergency siren before he pounces on top of you, straddling the backs of your thighs and leering over your shoulder like a hungry leopard. You whine and he just giggles boyishly into your ear.
"Theo!"
His cold, pink nose presses to your pulsing jugular, teeth pinching the delicate skin. You whine and reach around, cupping the back of his head and resting your book against the pillow. Soft puffs of air fan out across your throat. He groans with contempt.
"It's cold in here"—his fingers fuss with the edge of your sweater—"If you want to be cold, why don't you come outside with us?"
"Too cold."
His laugh rolls up your spine, and when you try to flip yourself over, he pins your forearms to the bed. Suddenly, you're defenseless and he spreads your thighs with his knee.
Theo whispers into the tender warmth of your temple, "you're losing."
You let him overpower you, resting your cheek on the mattress but wriggling in his grasp to test him. 
"Not fair," you protest, "Rules unclear."
It's not so entertaining to Theo who gives you a little less wiggle room, pressing his hips to yours. Slotting his hips between your thighs.
"Are you coming to the pub later?" he asks. You pinch your eyes closed.
"I could. Or I could stay here and nap."
He groans. Just one shift of his pelvis has you relaxing beneath him. It's snowing, but he keeps you warm.
"You've been napping all day. Come with us," he pleads, pushing your sweater up and smiling when you writhe under his icy touch, "per favore?"
You mumble something into the mattress.
"Can't hear you."
You lift your head and sigh. "Damn you. Oh, how I love to stay in. But then again, oh, how I love you."
With Theo's weight loose on your upper body, you manage to twist, and he smiles and nudges your nose with his like a lover. Like he's your lobster, but he looks more like a buck. Then he kisses you.
It's slow and syrupy. He wastes no time in pushing his tongue into your mouth. It's his favorite party trick because you always let him show it off. Only with the promise that you'll cradle his face while he does it, though.
Theo hastily pats your ass and rolls off the bed. Holding out his hand to you, he cocks his brow expectantly.
"Coming?"
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fr-ogii · 3 months
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daisy chains
luke castellan
x child of demeter!reader; poc friendly
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you often find yourself sitting on a random hill at camp, letting the warm morning sun soak into your skin and the slightly damp grass leave soft green stains on your jean shorts. you fiddle with the grass, often pulling out one or two strands and braiding them.
over, under, over, under. the patterned motion relaxes you as it continues. over, under, over, under.
you toss the strands of grass aside and opt for the daisies that lay around you. it was probably bad karma to rip flowers out of the ground and your mother would probably be at least a bit peeved if she saw you do this. it didn’t matter much to you, you never met demeter and didn’t feel indebted to her in any way. you could make as many daisy chains as you wanted, no one could stop you.
it was similar to how eliza, your friend from athena, would make paper stars whenever she got anxious. your daisy chains and her paper stars were just motions.
either way, luke didn’t mind your habit. he thought it was cute how your twitching hands could make such a beautiful little thing. the intricate braids laced around white daisies and took shape of whatever you wished. sometimes it became a crown. others, it was a necklace. you tried to make a bracelet once, but it fell apart and you hadn’t tried since, instead sticking to what you were more confident in.
speaking of luke, the son of hermes was making his way over to you. “what’re you doing up?”
“i could say the same to you.” you said with a smile so soft it rivaled your voice, unnecessarily quiet as to not wake any campers.
perhaps unknowingly following your example, luke lowered his voice as well, despite being far away from any cabins and not being loud to begin with. “you got me there. i was gonna go to the range to practice the bow, you know i’ve been trying to improve?” he added a lilt to the end of his sentence as if he was asking a question.
it took you a second to process what he was saying. “no… i didn’t know that. why? you’ve seemed fine with the bow last i saw you, no?”
“see!” he put emphasis on that word, as if he had proved you wrong. “i seemed fine, not good. big difference, love.” he looked down at your hands, noticing for the first time what you were fiddling with. “you wanna come join? i’m sure there’re plenty of flowers over by the range.”
your smile continued to widen at the goofy expression luke held, clearly proud of himself for finding a way to get you to join him. most times, luke preferred to practice his weaknesses by himself — that was why he was up so early, after all — but he always appreciated when you joined him. he called you his “good luck charm.”
“of course i’ll come, luke.” you popped up off the ground, now no longer as damp as it once was. green stains from the grass painted your shorts, but you ignored them. your hands scurried to snatch up the daisy chain that laid on the ground right below you. the chain was quickly stitched into a crown before you placed it on luke’s head. it was slightly too big and almost fell in front of his eyes.
he linked arms with you and the both of you continued down the hill, sitting course for the range.
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not proofread
my tags are also rlly glitchy so pls excuse if any of them are wrong
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vampdes · 9 months
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( cw. quick drabble, makeout sesh. könig & reader. grinding / dry humping. + google translate german used. )
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“mmh! schatz, wai—”, könig and you had a mission no less than four hours from now. both of you knew that, if the two of you were caught by price, again, only god knows how he’d reprimand the two of you this time. [t. sweetheart.]
but könig’s lips were so distracting. they were full, his upper lip being a soft pink and his lower lip being rose pink, with a scar on the left side. if he didn’t want makeout sessions all the time, why would he put on a show just for you?
“jus’—fuck, hands on my hips, babe.” you said between kisses, placing his gloved hands on your hips before going back to gripping his hair and grinding against his cargo pants.
“too—engel, engel–gott, ich werde— zu viel!” he cried, squeezing his legs shut after you had pulled his swollen lips away from yours. [t. angel, angel–god, i’m gonna—too much!]
you grinned, wiping away the stray tears from his tear-stained cheeks, “we have . . a little longer, yeah?”.
“liebe, trainin’—hah, ah!”. you pressed your hand against his mouth, you motioned for him to be quiet as you unbuckled his belt. könig bit his lower lip, nodding slightly as he watched you place his belt on top of the duffel bag. “we—training, though, the mi–oh, god–the mission!” you situated yourself on top of his lap before tilting your head. [t. love.]
“we have time. three hours and some minutes, [we] won’t be late like last time, swear.” you mumbled, pressing kisses against his jaw whilst slowly grinding against the crotch of his black briefs. könig nodded slowly, his mind becoming clouded by his urges, “we—yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, agreeing, his hands going underneath your shirt and situating on your waist.
you pressed soft kisses against his adam’s apple to which he tipped his head back with a soft groan. “yes—we definitely . . hah, we definitely have more time.” könig whispered, licking his lips before smiling and gently pressing his lips against yours.
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munsster · 10 months
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brain like a sieve
A/N: i am on a MAD ONE with the way im writing. she has motivation and inspiration and fingers of STEEL. (gif creds: @neblisi )
Pairings: Eddie Munson x GN!Reader
Summary: Eddie’s on top of the world when you tell him you love him. So much so, in fact, that he forgets to say it back. 0.8k words
Warnings: established relationship, kissing, fluff, insecurity, obliviousness, pet names (bunny, bug, lovebug), ONE half swear word (i SWEAR it took so much self control, i dont know how i limited myself)
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You’ve got this fiery look in your eye right before you say it that distracts him.
“I love you, Eddie.”
And your hair is wild and your hands are wound into the collar of his shirt and he can’t help but wonder what divine force of nature got him here. Made him so lucky.
And in the midst of everything: Eddie forgets to say it back.
He kisses you sweetly and holds you at the waist, drinking in the way you look at him and tug him closer. But he still doesn’t say it back. A minute passes, and everything settles and he thinks you’re beautiful and you love him, and he forgot to say it back.
You go home in a frenzy. Why didn’t he say it back? You can barely do your laundry without running the conversation over in your head. Did you do something wrong? You think you’ll wait a week, give it time, maybe he’ll call and say it. Maybe he’s still processing it. Does he not love you back? You end up waiting two days before calling him in the middle of the night.
“Okay! We can talk, lovebug. Why don’t you come over tomorrow night? I’ll order takeout.”
You can hear Eddie’s smile through the phone, completely unfazed by the ungodly hour and by the confusion and hurt in your voice. Your eyes go wide, and you slowly nod.
“Yeah… that works,” you say.
“Alright, I’ll see you then.”
But you’re still confused. He spoke and smiled like nothing was the matter. Like you hadn’t been down on your knees with devoted confession for him. Maybe he just didn’t hear you. Except you know he heard you because you said it in the rest between laughter and conversation and the way he gave you a soft smile meant he had to have heard you.
“I brought cupcakes.” You stand on his porch steps, shivering from the cold, wind licking your face and threatening to blow you off your feet. Eddie grins and takes the plate from you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the kitchen. He sets the soft yellow platter down beside the bags of takeout and whips around to leer at you like a big cat.
“Hi, bunny,” he whispers. And you’re already flustered.
Eddie smiles because he knows and plants one on you like you’ve never kissed before. Like it hasn’t been his favorite pastime the entire time he’s known you. Despite how stone-faced you told yourself you’d be, you crumple into temptation and whine when he pulls away.
Moments later, you’re both perched on his bed, facing each other while he’s smiling and poking at your knee.
“So…” Eddie says, batting his lashes.
“So?”
“Well, you said you wanted to talk—”
“Oh”—you press a hand to your face and take a deep breath—“I know, I’m just… okay… d’you remember the other day? We were cracking jokes on your bed and messing around in general and…”
“Yeah, I remember.” He inches ever closer, tugging at the sleeve of your coat like a needy cat. Because you don’t know how distracted he had gotten all while thinking about how pretty you looked. How pretty your laugh is and how he doesn’t know where he’d be if he didn’t have you.
“And then I said…”—you sigh—“I mean, I told you I love you, and you didn’t… say anything—”
And as if all of the blood had been drained from his face, he goes ghost-pale in embarrassment. He feels nauseous and panicked.
“Oh my God! Bug! I love you, I love you, I do, I’m—oh my God, I got completely distracted, I’m mortified, I swear, I—”
You feel relief, yet your voice is still small when you ask:
“Distracted? Distracted by what…?”
“Well”—and it makes him shy owning up to his conscience like this—“you were laughin’ so hard and… and then I snorted which made you laugh even harder and I was thinking… ‘bout how beautiful you looked smiling so wide, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. And you said you loved me and I was on cloud nine. You were grabbing me and you looked like you could cry from laughing and I wanted to kiss you and I love you. And I’m sorry I got distracted.”
Your jaw unclenches and you sit there for a second, blinking at him in disbelief and yet complete understanding.
Then you tackle him, pin him to the bed with a yelp. And once he’s done wriggling, he’s scared for his life with how furious you look pressing him down like this.
“Eddie Munson!”
“Don’t be mad at me, please! Because I love you—”
“Shut up,” you say, grinning when he cups your face and swipes his thumb across your cheek.
“I do. I lo—”
“Shh, precious few words, Eddie.”
“Too bad, that sucks, I’m completely in love with you,” he huffs, “Now say it back.”
You grin and you look like you could bite a chunk out of him right about now. And he’s pretty sure he prefers it that way when you say:
“…I love you.”
“Damn right.”
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worukin · 1 year
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╭୨୧︰ prince yandere x servant reader
・✦⇢ working as a butler was something you did willingly. after all, serving the royal family earned you lots of coin. and you were such a loyal servant that the prince couldn't help but want to snatch you up for himself.
︰꒰1・ ( warnings ) — slight possessive behaviour, yandere themes, clinginess, pet names, lots of affection, showing y/n off like a trophy.
︰꒰2・ ( notes ) — originally intended to make the yandere a vampire but i wasn't too sure. maybe in the near future? ahh idk. but i do have things planned. anyway, a little something for being absent as i work on bigger drafts! ( word count: insert wc )
( if you are uncomfy with this type of content, kindly block me instead. this was very fun to write hope you enjoy <3 )
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After a long time of working in such a place, you found your way through the maze of hallways covered with odd decor.
Sometimes there would be paintings of people who were nude and it did fluster you quite a bit. Or a statue of an unknown person, maybe even some vases filled with flowers. All to tend to the taste of the Royal family.
Now, you've been here for such a long time now and grown used to The Prince's silly antics. Always asking you to do your chores around his wing. Not that you minded.
"Oh come on Y/n~ Don't you want to rest a bit?" He cooed, laying on his stomach as he watched you with glee. "I apologize your Highness, but doing so would be overstepping boundaries."
He huffed as you continued to dust his room. Wiping the windows, adjusting the curtains, moving the carpet. Oh how cute you were in his eyes. "I wouldn't mind, you are my favourite little servant after all "
Eyes shined with glee when you turned away to hide the fact you were flustered. Such high praise coming from the prince made you giddy. "Please your Highness, picking favourites isn't fair." You sighed.
"Oh darling but you love it!" He exclaimed, a pout forming on his lips. The prince always did enjoy spoiling you with his riches. You hummed— though it was true you reveled at the fact you were his favourite, you weren't happy with it giving you a bigger advantage than the others.
You stepped back from the vase of flowers, cleaning up the roots you cut off. "I'm glad you think highly of me, but this is quite unprofessional." The last thing you would want is being banished by Her Majesty for being with the Prince as a servant and not a noble.
"Is my affections for you not enough? Perhaps I need to be more open." The prince gave a close-eyed smile at the thought of bragging how he had such a catch, a loyal passionate servant like you doesn't come around often.
Your brow lifted. "Open? More open how?" A confused expression formed when all you got in response was a giggle. "My apologies your Highness, I didn't mean to speak so informally."
The prince scoffed. "Oh please, you are my favourite. If anything I'm glad you're relaxed around me to speak like that." Heart swelling just thinking about being informal with you— maybe he could just take you away for himself.
"Awe, wouldn't you enjoy being alone? Just the two of us and away from such a stuffy manor?" He dreamed of waking everyday beside you, instead of waking to the sound of another servant's knocking. You didn't answer.
The loud ring of a bell startled you, reminding you of your duties. "Oh! My apologies your Highness, but I must go now." Hurrying out of his room you uttered another sentence. "Thank you for having such fondness towards me."
He giggled, waving a hand around. "No worries my dear, see you at dinner~" the prince sighed as you left, hearts in the air and in his eyes. "Oh my love, you don't understand at all do you? No matter, I'll lay it to you soon enough."
Various thoughts of hooking his arm around your waist as you attended a ball— everyone in awe at such a pair. Untouchable you both would be, a barrier between you two and everyone else.
He'd leave feverish kisses on your skin to tease and to relish in such jealous stares. That's right, you're his.
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ʚ ﹒ ﹕ ̟乀 all works belong to @worukin, do not repost on anywhere else with or without credit, do not plagiarise. ty!
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Another request from me 😅 again with Jake where he dates a girl with a similar personality to Bob (I imagine him to be quite and calm in everyday life, but he has another side that is sarcastic and quite perverse), and one time when Jake comes with her to the beach to meet the Dagger Squad, she's limping because he's "overworked" her so much, and he's covered in a lot hickeys and scratches on his back, and everyone's quite shocked, and they're having a lot of banter with the reader.
Additional advantages if she was about 10 years younger and was sister Bob or Natasha but I don't require it.
Thank you in advance 🤍
I fancied popping back to Jake a bit to refresh my mind while I work on my Astarion intimacy fic ~ I hope that's alright with y'all!
This isn't my best ever. I just felt like keeping it short and sweet to try and break my writer's block. Hopefully, you still enjoy it!
Cradle Snatcher - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x gn!Reader
Wordcount: 1,117 Warnings: Illusions to sex but no descriptions Notes: gn!reader, no use of physical descriptions or pronouns besides the reader being younger than Jake.
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“When are we going to see y/n again? Don’t tell me they have dumped your ass already?” Coyote’s voice called over the bar table. Jake scoffed as he pushed off of the pool table, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his beer as he sat down across from him, watching Nat take her shot. 
“They’ll come out again when they’re ready, you know they aren’t a fan of the loud music and pool scene.” 
“Ah, so they have seen sense and left then?” Javy pushed back, smirking into his bottle as Jake shot him a cocky look, eyebrow raised.
“Left my bed? No, they’re probably still there waiting for me to get back,” he joked, smirking back as Javy’s eyes widened a little and he choked on his drink. He composed himself quickly as Jake stood again to rejoin the game.
“I still don’t know how you managed that one,” he reflected, standing too to lean against the table as Jake lined up the cue. 
“Managed what?” Javy paused for a moment, picking his words carefully. “They’re just so different…”
“They’re like Bob,” Nat perked up, tired of watching her fellow pilot trip over his words. 
“So?” Jake quizzed, stepping back from the table again and leaning against his cue. 
“Well, someone like Bob is more likely to get with someone… well, like Bob.” Javy continued. 
Jake paused for a moment before smiling to himself again. “Please, Baby on Board couldn’t keep up with them.” It was Nat’s turn to stifle a laugh.
“Keep up with a college grad that prefers to spend their nights at home with the dog than out with the squad? Isn’t that Bob’s idea of the perfect night?” 
Jake stayed quiet, simply smiling to himself as he recalled the night before, and the night ahead you had promised. Stepping forward, he potted the final ball with a smirk, handed his cue to Javy, and downed the rest of his drink. 
“Well, I better go keep them company then.” His smirk didn’t falter as he swung his jacket over his shoulders. “See you tomorrow, guys.” 
“Goodnight!”
“Sleep well cradle snatcher,” Nat shouted over Javy, evidently biting back a laugh. 
**** 
“Do you think they guys would mind if I tagged along to the beach?” you asked as you stretched out on the bed, watching as Jake threw on a t-shirt. He smiled at what you presumed was your suggestion, but with his eyes raking up your bare legs, you weren’t too sure. 
“Why not. They were asking about you last night.”
You looked at him confused as you moved to stand up, only to be pinned down again as he leaned down onto the bed, his head naturally gravitating to the juncture of your jaw and throat as he placed a few quick kisses there. You couldn’t help but laugh at the feeling of his stubble. “Nothing bad, scouts honour,” he mumbled against your skin, continuing his kisses further down the column of your throat. “They just don’t think I’m right for you.” 
You cocked your head a little, pulling away from his lips to look down at him. “Is this advice I should be listening to?” you joked, running your fingers through his still-messy hair. 
“Well, if you think you would be better off with someone more your speed – someone like Bob, apparently – then maybe.” 
You looked at him for another moment before you both started laughing, your giggle starting off as more of a snort. “And what did you say?” 
“That he couldn’t keep up with you,” 
“And you can, old man?” you teased, laughing harder as he pulled back to give you a disapproving look. 
“If I didn’t know better I would have thought you were talking to Birdman. I’m only eight years older than you know.” 
“Still a certified cradle snatcher.”
“You have been spending too much time with Nat.” “And not enough time with you, it seems,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Now, why don’t you prove to me you can still keep up?” The look in his eyes changed as you challenged him as his lips dropped down to your throat once again. 
**** 
“Oh thank god, someone to have an intelligent conversation with,” Nat called as she spotted you walking over the sand towards the team huddling around the beer cooler. You sniggered as you flopped down in the sand beside her, thanking Bob quickly as he handed you a water from the cooler beside him. 
“I didn’t think you played sports, y/n?” Bradley enquired with a somewhat knowing smile as Jake sat beside you. You looked at him puzzled as you sipped your drink. 
“I don’t?” you asked more than stated as you looked towards Jake, wondering if he had said something when you weren’t around. His subtle smug look only gives you more questions than answers. Bradley didn’t look at you as he replied, instead opting to look out across the beach nonchalantly. “Oh, my mistake. How did you get that limp then? Nothing too serious, I hope.” Jake downright choked on his water as he tried to suppress a laugh, knowing Coyote’s eyes were boring into the side of his head as he caught on. 
You could feel your skin heat up, and you knew it wasn’t the sand or the sun responsible. You were a little uncomfortable after the last two nights and this morning, but you didn’t realise it was noticeable. You would have shot back, or thought of some excuse if you had been so flustered. The others starting to snicker didn’t help. 
“Come on, guys, that’s enough…” Bob started, registering how you shifted a little. He stopped mid-sentence as Jake pulled off his top, revealing a spattering of scratches and bruises that had certainly not been there an hour ago but had rapidly developed on the drive to the beach. Almost instantly, even Bob broke into a laugh. 
“And here I was thinking he was the one overworking you,” Javy interjected. 
“Please, at his age?” you snickered under your breath, watching your boyfriend grow more flustered as the attention turned to him. Javy’s near howl of laughter set you off too, as Jake flushed red but tried to brush it off. He always struggled with the attention he hadn’t directly drawn himself. You placed a reassuring hand behind his back as you leaned into him a little. 
“Well, we’re on for a game of dogfight football, if the old man is up to it,”
Jake scoffed but started to stand up regardless. “You’re one to talk. Are you sure your joints can handle it?” He raises an eyebrow at the moustachioed man. 
“Oh, it’s on.”
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hanasnx · 5 months
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knuckle up
MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: gn!reader | dom!hobie | kinks: size | breathplay: choking | finger sucking
HOBIE BROWN's got big hands. For a guy his size it's natural to have, and you're fixated on them. You're entranced when he ropes his webbing around his palm; how his nimble fingers traverse the neck of his guitar; and you become weak when he puts them on you. Even a touch as simple as a stroke of his knuckles against your cheek elicits a whimper out of you. "You like that, eh?" he murmurs with amusement, tenderly cupping your cheek as you lean into it. Experimentally, his hand slides over until the pad of his thumb can stroke your jaw on the other side, tucking the webbing under your chin. It involuntarily pouts your lips, and he knows you're putty in his hold. He steals a kiss from your pliant mouth by inclining you towards him. So tall you have to stand on the tips of your toes to comply.
"Aren't you a pretty thing? Bein' so sweet f'me." he croons, yet it's said to call attention to how uncharacteristically agreeable you're being.
You squeeze your eyes shut as your delicate countenance skews. "Don't make fun of me."
"D'aw," he sympathizes in a feigned manner. "Wouldn't dream of it, bug." His thumb strokes at your skin, and you suck in a breath. "I like you like this." Curiously, his grip slacks to travel down until your larynx is against his palm. He idles, giving you time to expect it before his hand stretches around and flush against you. Your throat is enclosed in his grasp, your veins lovingly and expertly squeezed. In a merciful moment, he lets your feet relax, landing flat onto the ground as he raises his free hand to you. You keep your eyes closed, focusing on your heart beat, hearing your breathing. The pads of two fingers tap at your mouth, and obediently you part your lips, allowing him access inside. Eager tongue welcomes them by cupping them while your lips form around the first knuckle, until he pushes further in. Long fingers, long fucking fingers sliding over your tongue, narrowly avoiding your gag reflex as he pumps them in and out only halfway. You feel his grip around your neck tighten marginally, his own arousal getting to him as he makes you suck his fingers.
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omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!
i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33
thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!
Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)
This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.
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Tangerine, Tangerine
Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?
Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!
Word Count: 4494
_______________________________________
It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 
You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 
Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”
“Green Two check.”
“Green Three check.” 
 It was just a kiss. 
“Green Four check.” 
 It was just a-
“Green Five check.” 
Just a-
“Green Six check.” 
Just-
“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.” 
It wasn’t just a kiss. 
You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron. 
This mission was straightforward - on a holopad. 
Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons. 
The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne. 
Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure. 
Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.
You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide. 
The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them. 
Simple. 
In theory. 
Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy. 
But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going? 
No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice. 
You swallow. 
You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart. 
I hadn’t just been a kiss. 
You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline. 
He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that. 
Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead. 
It made a lot more sense. 
Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own. 
They had always been close. Always. Best friends. 
Sickness bubbled in your throat. 
You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it. 
“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander. 
“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?” 
Hank chortled. 
Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist. 
Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you. 
“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?” 
Yeah. Now you had. 
The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains. 
Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet. 
You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…
But you had thought it was…
It didn’t matter. 
You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch. 
That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. 
Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence. 
It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons. 
A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands. 
You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next. 
Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?
“That one here, you see it?” 
“Yeah?” 
“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”
You’d laughed. 
“That’s me and you Moonbeam.” 
Moonbeam. That stupid nickname. 
You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you. 
“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.” 
That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’ 
You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on. 
It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal. 
Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay. 
Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures. 
“Fuck.” 
The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled. 
“Blue in place now!”
“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”
“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!” 
“How far away is the Delta?” 
“Calling in attack pattern!” 
You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game. 
That didn’t bode well. 
You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction. 
Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.
“Targeting not working!”
“It’s out!”
“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”
“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on. 
“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!” 
You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process. 
“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.
You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?” 
“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down. 
It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard. 
The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns. 
Good. 
But there’s so, so many of them. 
Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems. 
More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together. 
The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing. 
“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear. 
You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through. 
The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on. 
“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter. 
There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home. 
Frizz.
“No…” 
“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”
You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.
“Green Two check!” Cril.
“Green Three check!” Petal. 
Nothing. 
“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz. 
The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes. 
You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist. 
There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity. 
All you need is…
Another alarm. 
“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!” 
A chorus of yells answer you. 
A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely. 
And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard. 
The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot. 
“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist. 
Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected. 
You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons. 
You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull. 
It’s not enough.
You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough. 
It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.
There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it. 
Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.
“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.
They must have scrambled after first contact. 
The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell. 
The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire. 
You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational. 
Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on. 
Two chances left. 
One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits. 
Poe shouts for you over the intercom. 
You don’t answer.
One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will. 
Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call. 
You don’t answer.
You fire. Hit. 
Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it. 
The canon doesn’t go down. 
You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him. 
You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.
“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do. 
Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 
“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 
You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down. 
Shouts over the radio, you barely make out- 
“-cannon’s down-”
“-Jump!-”
A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.
The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-
.
The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream. 
Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain. 
You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob. 
There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit. 
The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it. 
You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide. 
Make it look like you had a weapon. 
Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning. 
Can’t let them take you alive. 
There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down. 
For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull  yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot. 
You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue. 
You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…
.
When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear. 
I'm dead.
You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds. 
But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.
And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.
“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use. 
Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back. 
“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good. 
“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?” 
“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper. 
“What?”
“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-” 
“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.” 
You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe. 
Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.” 
You snort. 
He smiles. 
“Who did we lose?” 
Hank sighs, “three…”
You nod, closing your eyes for a moment. 
“There-”
There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.
You swallow, sickness building in your throat.
He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red. 
He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages. 
“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes. 
“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.
Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.” 
Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away. 
“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”
“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”
He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?” 
“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.” 
The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?” 
You nod. 
“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart. 
“You pushed her away?” 
“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…” 
“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”
“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.” 
He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes. 
“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”
“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”
“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head. 
He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper.
Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating. 
You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly. 
“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.
“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”
He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.” 
You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight. 
“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins. 
You scoff. 
“You are.” He kisses you again. 
You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home. 
“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.” 
You nod. “She’s a good person.”
He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.” 
You touch his cheek lightly. 
“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?” 
You shake your head in surprise and he nods.
“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.” 
You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper. 
Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance. 
Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted. 
“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart. 
____________________________________
Thank you for reading!
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sockmeat · 1 month
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Alastor gets horny for romance and it's a real treat to witness
The weather gets colder and his behavior gets so much stranger... To others, anyway. You're well aware of this little routine Alastor goes through every year
You know immediately why Alastor is suddenly so much more interested in travelling with you. Normally, he'd simply ask where you were going and send you off easily, but now he's insisting that he goes to your work with you to "protect" you even though you have nothing to worry about
He feeds you like he's an Italian grandma. If he's not with you, he's in the kitchen making something for you, but if he is with you, he's dragging you to the kitchen to make something for you
He gets increasingly nitpicky about your diet and lifestyle. Generally he's a normal amount of annoying with everything you do, but it gets crazy when he's in rut
Suddenly he's insisting that you work too much and he needs to pamper you
He only allows you to eat food that he's made, which tends to be from scratch. How is he supposed to know who made these noodles? Who the hell laid these eggs? Fuck this, he's getting a chicken.
You have a chicken now... Fat Nuggets has a buddy :)
No fast food for you!! Alastor insists he knows a better recipe and will make you forget about the nasty greasy food
He's crazy because he's right, guys
Somehow he does make the food better and now you can't look at it the same anymore
This is only unfortunate when you want a yummy 3 a.m. snack
But now it's 7 a.m. and you may as well have just gone to bed
It's yummy, but is it worth it?
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kazudesuu · 4 months
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satosugu x gn!reader
cw : fluff, bit of angst
haven’t written for so long so please accept this crumb of writing 😸
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— together
: riko’s death and toji’s words took a toll on geto. how do you comfort him?
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geto suguru knew he was fucked.
he knew he was fucked when he witnessed riko die in front of him. he knew he was fucked when he conversed with fushiguro toji. he knew he was fucked when he returned that night, images of the day’s events still flashing through his mind.
he was spiralling.
geto stood in the shower, letting the cool water run down his body. white noise filled his ears.
it’s too loud. it’s too loud. it’s too loud. it’s too loud. it’s too—
“suguru?” geto snapped out of whatever trance he was in. he turned, facing you. he took note of your uniform, how it was bloodied and crinkled. he hoped the blood wasn’t yours.
you stood there, staring at him. his eyes looked exhausted. dark circles were prominent underneath.
you had just returned from a mission against a grade one curse. it was a tough fight but you managed. you’d heard from principal yaga of what had happened and as the lover of the two strongest sorcerers, you were worried. you were aware gojo had been busy with more missions, now that he’d unlocked a greater power. he didn’t have time to be there for geto.
but you did.
and that was what you were doing right now.
silently, you stripped as geto turned away to face the wall. when you were bare, you approached geto and wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your right cheek against his back.
the two of you were still. you felt geto relax against you. he closed his eyes, trying to find comfort in this moment of tranquility.
after a while, he turned his whole body to embrace you from the front. he buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.
“suguru…” your voice was soft, gentle. “everything will be fine. i’m here.” geto gripped you tighter, body shaking slightly.
he’s crying you realise.
“you can cry. don’t worry, i won’t let go of you.” you weren’t really a good comforter but you knew geto needed you now. needed someone he could rely on, someone he trusted. he cried a lot, sobs escaping him one after another. the sight of him so vulnerable made your heart clenched. this was what he was going through.
the shower had already stopped running now but you felt water dripped down your back. your hand reached up to geto’s hair, stroking it.
“y/n, i don’t know what to do,” geto muttered.
“we’ll figure it out. all three of us.” you pulled away from geto, cupping his face in your hands. “you’re not alone sugu. satoru and i will always be here.” you smile at him, using your thumb to wipe away his tears. geto stared into your eyes, seeing the immense amount of love in them. he couldn’t help but smile too.
after a few moments of the two you just staring at each other, you clapped your hands together. “okay, let’s finish showering. satoru should be coming back soon so let’s all just cuddle together and watch a movie!”
geto’s eyes softened as he slowly nodded. “sure.”
when gojo opened the door to the shared dorm, he found you and geto snuggled comfortably in bed. geto’s arms were snaked around your torso. your face was covered by his long hair.
gojo breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of you two. he walked towards the bed, glancing down at his lovers. you suddenly shifted, aware of another presence in the room.
when your eyelids fluttered open, you were met with a pair of beautiful blue eyes. “toru…” you muttered hazily. gojo lowered down and kissed your forehead.
“hey.” the male then leaned over to place a kiss on geto’s forehead. “is he okay?”
you looked up at gojo then back down at geto. you smile solemnly. “not right now but he will be, hopefully.”
gojo nodded. “i should’ve been there,” he mumbled, guilt and worry laced in his tone.
“what has happened has already happened. it was no one’s fault satoru. i hope you know that.” you reached to grab gojo’s hand. “now come on, clean yourself up and join us.”
gojo chuckled and jokingly saluted. “whatever you say.”
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astarion-approves · 7 months
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Hello! So hopefully this isn't too similar to stuff you've done previously if it is feel free to skip, but may I perchance request a wee drabble of soft astarion caring for a particularly vulnerable tav after he takes maybe a bit too much blood. Like, tav is all pale and cold, tremble-y and dazed- maybe a wee bit delirious or confused, ya know blood loss things. (Someone needs to be making sure Tav is getting some juice or something after all the blood they're giving to astarion and losing in battle) thank you!!! I love your work! You're doing a great service for the astarion lovers <3
Astarion x GN! Tav
A poor bloodless Tav is just a bit out of it.
Tags: Gn! Tav/reader, OOC Astarion, confessions, hand feeding, 850+ words, short and sweet
Read below or on AO3
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“Astarion.” Shadowheart approached him, waking him from his daytime nap, her lips pressed together and a glare already prepared before she even reached his tent. “Have you noticed something wrong with Tav?” 
“Hm?” Astarion blinked up at her, his arms resting behind his back and not bothering to move as she stared down at him. “No, why?” 
Shadowheart rolled her eyes and tilted her head to the side, gesturing for Astarion to look in that direction. Astarion sighed and sat up in his bedroll, glancing to where Tav stood. 
They held a single kiwi in front of their face, their eyes narrowed as they stared at the fuzzy fruit. 
Astarion blinked as he watched them. “Shadowheart, for just how long have they been standing there like that?” 
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Long enough for me to notice?” 
“By the Hells,” Astarion cursed and stood up, jogging past Shadowheart and making his way to Tav. 
They didn’t even notice him approach, their staring competition with the kiwi still on going. 
“Tav,” Astarion gently grabbed their shoulder, earning a gasp from Tav and the thud of the kiwi as it fell to the ground. 
“Shit,” they said with a frown. “I was going to eat that.” 
“I didn’t mean to startle you—“
“Do you wanna share it?” 
Astarion looked down to where the kiwi laid at Tav’s feet, it landed directly into a muddy puddle. “I’m not sure you should still eat that, darling.” 
“Damn,” Tav replied and sighed. They turned to walk away, bumping into Astarion’s shoulder and nearly falling to the ground. 
Astarion reached out quickly and caught them, holding Tav in his arms, surprised by how little strength they had. They trembled in his arms, their skin a few shades lighter than it normally was—
“Tav, did you eat anything after I fed from you last night—?”
“Yes! Actually… No… I’m not sure?” 
Astarion clicked his tongue at Tav, letting out a quick sigh before scooping them up and into his arms completely. They both said nothing as Astarion carried them to his tent, the human opting to snuggle their head into his chest as he carried them. 
He carefully lowered them into the makeshift bed, Tav smiling up at Astarion and attempting to pull him down and into the bed with them. 
“Ah, ah, ah, not quite yet, my dear. We need to get you a little snack.” 
“I’m your little snack.” 
“Yes, you are. My cute little snack.” Astarion chuckled as he left the tent in search of some food. It was rare that Tav would forget to eat something after one of their feedings, the human insisting on being awake for it these days as they claimed they enjoyed the intimacy. Not that Astarion disliked that, in fact it made his bite much more enjoyable knowing that Tav was there and happy to share their blood with him. Amongst other things…
Soon Astarion returned with clean fruit in hand, cut strawberries and a few blueberries prepared and resting in a bowl for his companion to enjoy. “Here,” he said and held a strawberry to Tav’s lips. “Eat this.” 
“I wanted a kiwi.” 
Astarion smiled and ran his free hand through Tav’s hair before pausing and carefully easing their head up and into his lap. “I’ll make sure to get you more kiwis later. For now, please eat.” 
Tav pouted, but allowed Astarion to feed them the berry. 
“My apologies, Tav. I must have taken more blood from you than usual. I didn’t notice how you were feeling.” 
“Don’t be. Maybe I just like when you hand feed me.” 
Astarion rolled his eyes and pressed a blueberry against their lips next. “Then I will gladly feed you fruit every day. It’s the least I could do.” 
“I love you.” 
Astarion froze, a slice of strawberry halfway in Tav’s mouth as they gazed up at him with tired eyes. “Tav—“
They pushed the berry to the side of their mouth with their tongue, only struggling slightly as they quickly chewed it and swallowed it down. “I know you’re not there yet, that you might not ever be there, and I know I probably look like shit right now—“
“Never—“
“But I love you, and I’m always willing to feel faint for a little bit if it means making you happy.” 
“Tav,” Astarion placed the bowl to the side. “What would ever make you think that I don’t love you?” 
Tav’s eyes widened in surprise. 
“Do you have any idea how much I adore you?” Astarion laughed. “I don’t need your blood. Of course.. I do rather enjoy it, but I don’t need it.”
“But—“
“Could you honestly see me hand feeding fruit to Lae’zel because she gave me a little blood?” 
Tav snorted. “No.” 
“Of course not, my dear. Only you.” Astarion lowered himself, kissing Tav softly, briefly swiping his tongue over their berry flavored lips before pulling back with a smile. 
“So… does this mean we’re dating?” 
“I would certainly hope so. What other vampire spawn is going to feed you strawberries? You won’t find another like me.” 
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nwndrlndn · 8 months
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pregnancy
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pairing : anakin skywalker x pregnant!reader; | wc : 0.9k | 18+MINORS DNI
warnings : pregnancy kink ( but open to anyone with a womb ), possessiveness, anakin is a crep and perv, mildly objectifying, unhealthy relationships and worldviews, "mommy" is used once, mentions of oral
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for the last 6 months, anakin watched as you continued about your daily life in the short bursts of time you spent together. between missions and meetings, in the few days off, and every night he could come home to you. every moment he could spend with you he would. and when the days finally came where your clothes grew too tight and you needed looser outfits, he would offer to get you your clothes and fabric orders. in the mornings, he would pretend to sleep to watch you dress.
but it wasn’t enough. he waited patiently, smirking when people noticed the small and excusable signs of your current state. he knew you hated to lie but there was a certain wave of desire that washed over him, watching as you lied through your teeth as you claimed cravings were caused by a longing to travel freely and your irritable morning state on having rough nights. though he knew just how good your nights were, after all, he was the one helping you release after such long, busy days.
so when you finally started to show, his ego soared, especially as your bump seemed to grow faster than you could prepare for. ever the doting husband, anakin offered and advocated so that now he could help you get ready in the mornings and undressed at night. buttoning, zipping, brushing, smoothing, tying, and adjusting. and teasing, his hands had access to every part of you because you trusted him. but you also wanted to tease him. that had to be it. why else let him be the only one so close to you? to touch you each night and care for you? 
and thats why when he came home from a mission, exhausted and singed from blaster shots and swings of red lightsabers that got too close, his breath stopped when he was greeted with the sight of you relaxed against your pregnancy pillow and your pristine white robe stretched to cover your bump, with a sliver of your bump still visible. he walked over to you, hanging up his coat and kicking off his boots mindlessly, his eyes focused on you as he worked his way out of his jedi robes.
“ani, you’re home! i wanted to show you something, i was looking into a place to stay and-”
“just a minute, my love.”
anakin felt bad, taking you by surprise and silencing you, and once he saw you begin to pout he reminded himself to be extra doting to make up for it. he was on you in an instant, careful not to put any weight on your stomach, his lips kissing your neck and shoulders. he tugs off your robe, setting it behind him as he moves to cradle you from behind, easing his cock into you as he holds you gently. he was so scared to hurt you and he held himself up to watch your face for any signs of pain, and once he was fully sheathed, he returned to littering your face and neck with kisses. 
for a moment, he wanted want to hold onto your hips and your waist and squeeze as long as he could. but you would whisper to remember the baby. and anakin wanted to tell you he was, he was being so careful with you and your precious baby, so just let him kiss your soft, glowing skin. let him thrust into you carefully, no longer aiming to fuck into you as deep as his anatomy allows. just let him have you, not the parent he’s making you into. his words are punctuated with kisses, and thrusts, strong but slow. anakin’s lips lingering by your ear when he wants you to hear him.
“just three more months, im gonna put another in you as soon as i can.”
“you look so good, baby. you're glowing.”
“you’re just as tight as you’ve always been.”
“i bet you’re gonna be a great mommy, and i’ll keep putting more in you.”
“there’s gonna be so many little skywalkers running around, the council’s not gonna know what to do with them all.”
he was desperate, but he wasn't selfish. his hands knew you well, knew every soft spot and each place you needed to be touched. anakin knew you needed this, just as much as he did and he treated you like you deserved. you deserved better than this galaxy, he only felt content once he watched your face contort in pleasure and felt how tightly your hole squeezed him. anakin came in you with a grunt, holding you to him as he shuts his eyes for a moment. he promised himself that once he finally relaxed again, he’ll go down on you until your eyes are too heavy to hold open. 
he was like those royal brats he meets across the galaxy, so absorbed in their dolls and themselves that they were useless to the world around them. but he understood them now, because he had you, and you had his child. you needed the care he provided, you needed him and so would your children, it was more binding than your marriage, it was something deeper than that. 
he could listen to your endless fantasies for your child because he wondered and hoped the same things to a certain extent. only he wished for a girl who looked just like you, and you wished for a boy for some foolish belief that it would make him happy to have his firstborn be a son. he couldn't care less. he had you, and the child was the proof of it. and he would take as many children from you so he could see how happy an army of his brats would make you.
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