julietta67

Latest Posts by julietta67

oh snap

Clan of Three Series

Clan of Three - Series Masterlist

A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Word Count: 137.4K

Season One:

Chapter One: The Mandalorian, The Child, and The Thief

Chapter Two: The Sin

Chapter Three: Sanctuary

Chapter Four: The Gunslinger and Past

Chapter Five: The Prisoner

Chapter Six: The Reckoning

Chapter Seven: Redemption

Season Two:

Chapter Eight: The Marshal

Chapter Nine: The Passenger

Chapter Ten: The Heiress

Chapter Eleven: The Siege

Chapter Twelve: The Jedi

Chapter Thirteen: Tragedy

Chapter Fourteen: The Rescue

The Book of Boba Fett:

Chapter One: The Mandalorian and The Jedi

Chapter Two: Return of the Mandalorian

Chapter Three: From the Desert Comes a Stranger

Chapter Four: In the Name of Honor

Season Three:

Chapter Fifteen: The Apostate

Chapter Sixteen: The Mines of Mandalore

Chapter Seventeen: The Challenge

Chapter Eighteen: The Foundling (7/12)

Chapter Nineteen: The Pirate (7/19)

Chapter Twenty: Guns for Hire (8/2)

Chapter Twenty-One: The Spies (8/9)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Coming Soon

Drabbles/One-Shots:

Crossing a line - (one-shot) high stakes can be the reason the innocence begins to crack. (Takes place between the end of Season 2 and BOBF)

I'm Finishing It

Requested by:: @lizzydutton

Pairing:: dad!Rip x Reader

Warnings:: swearing, fighting

Gif not mine, credit to the owner

My dad didn't want me staying in the bunkhouse. The only female boarding with the wranglers was not going to end well. For them.

Everything had been going okay for the most part. The guys just had to get used to sharing a bathroom with me. If I caught them looking at me, I'd say something to make them remember who my father was. Worked every time.

Then, the new guy shows up. He didn't understand the rules of the bunkhouse but he also didn't understand the rules about me. I knew it was going to end badly as soon as he walked in the door and looked at me.

"What's your name?" he asked, tipping his hat a little after he strode over to me from across the room. I didn't look up at him, too focused on my card game.

"Y/N," I answered. "What's yours?" I tossed my cards down, smiling up to Colby. I had him beat. As I pulled the chips to my pile, I waited for the new guy to answer.

"Mike," he chuckled. "You good at poker, Y/N?" He sat down next to me, putting his arm on the back of my chair.

"Yeah," I scoffed, pointing to Ryan. "Deal 'em." The guys watched as I didn't pay any attention to Mike as he undressed me with his eyes. I knew what he was doing. I didn't have to look at him to know.

"You know, I've been to a few different ranches," he chuckled, shifting forward so more of his weight was on the back of my chair. "Never seen a woman in the bunkhouse."

"Yellowstone 's different," Lloyd grunted, tossing his chips in the pot. "Call."

"Check," I sighed, knocking my hand on the table.

"I heard this place was different," Mike nodded. "You wear the brand too?" He reached out, pulling the collar of my shirt away from my chest.

I jumped up, shoving him backward. His chair tipped and fell back, hitting the floor. The guys jumped up, taking their cards and chips with them.

"You don't fucking touch me!" I yelled. He stood up, towering over me. Raising his hand, he backhanded me and I fell into the poker table. I could feel my blood boiling as my blood dripped onto my cards on the table.

"Hey, no fighting on the ranch!" Lloyd warned, pointing at Mike. Wiping my bleeding lip, I stared up at him.

"I don't care about the rules anymore," I growled. I punched him as hard as I could. He barely moved as I punched him in the stomach. When he didn't move, I knew I was screwed. He drew his arm back as the door kicked open.

"What the fuck are you two doing?" Dad yelled. I turned around to look at him and he noticed the state of my face. It wasn't looking good for Mike, raising his fist like that. "You hit my daughter?" he asked.

"Yeah, but she started it when she-"

Mike's tattling was cut off by Dad's fist connecting with his jaw. He didn't even give Mike a chance to hit the ground. Grabbing his shirt, he launched him across the table. The guys jumped out of the way of the thrown body and table.

"What's the rule about fighting?" he yelled in Mike's face as he held him down. "You wanna fight someone, you come fight me because I'll fight you all fucking day! And you don't touch my fucking daughter!" He punched him a few more times, dropping his head down on the floor.

He turned to face me. I was expecting the same treatment. Anyone who got in a fight got beat by him. I puffed up my chest, preparing for the blows. Instead, he touched my cheek. I winced under his hand. There must've been a bruise there already.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" he asked me softly. "You know the rule." I looked down at the ground, trying to find a way to explain it to him.

"He looked down her shirt for the brand," Jimmy said, trying to help me. "It was self-defense."

"Shut the fuck up, Jimmy," Dad scoffed.

"Yeah, I know the rule," I said quickly so he wouldn't go after Jimmy. "But you also told me I had to protect myself in here. Which is what I did."

He tried to find a way to argue with me. I like to think that he knows I wouldn't just start a fight because I knew he would come end it. I only throw a punch when I need to.

Mike tried to stand up, using the collapsed table as support. It gave way under him and he fell back down. His face was already bruised and starting to swell. He stood up, looking over at us. Grabbing his hat from the floor, he put it on his head and walked out the door.

"Clean this shit up in here," Dad said. He followed Mike outside, either to ask him to stay and work or take him to the train station.

Colby and I fixed the broken table as Ryan picked up the cards and chips off the floor. As we sat down around the table, I held my beer against my cheek. Jimmy passed out the cards, counting to himself.

Dad walked back inside, taking his hat off and hanging it on the hook. We all turned to look at him, wondering what happened. He went over to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Pulling up a chair, he sat down beside me.

"Deal me in, Jimmy," he said. Ryan handed him some poker chips as he took a sip of his beer. "Mike's leaving us." We all nodded, not really caring. "He didn't want a ride, so he's walking to town."

"More beer for us," I chuckled quietly as I took a sip.

CHAPTER 6: FIRST LESSONS - BABY STEPS PART 2

CHAPTER 7 : LESSONS FROM A WARRIOR PART 1 SOON

five days have passed since meeting the na'vi mother and learning to be na'vi brought major challenges in their side mission that could take an effort with immense time and patience. the recom's knowledge on the language starts becoming sense with simple words about animals, plants, the anatomy, and greetings were sometimes confusing as hell, but the pain of all.. is forming a complete sentence.

some of the recoms struggle pronunciation with their throat or tongue including and others form a sentence well. it was an on and off lessons between spider and ingyen teaching their assigned students since two is better than one. spider's been asked about what he knows about the culture and forest he grew up in, his eyes light up brighter than any star ingyen seen. there were parts of his stories that were exaggerated for the impression he wants to give off towards the recoms but his mother let him be.

in a distance were miles and ingyen practicing more pronunciation because it was what he struggled, complaining that none of what she tries to explains makes sense. everytime he complained, she hits his forehead with her palm and repeatedly calls him a stupid man.

his ears drop back and his tail moves irritated of the treatment he received than his colleagues. his expectations of becoming close with her is drastically further and further away than he originally thought they were in.

"darling, we're not getting anywhere with this if you keep doing that and i am trying to understand- just it's a pain to even say it right, take pity on me." miles displays his exaggerated hurt expression he tried multiple times on her but it didn't budge her in the slightest.

"you are their leader so you get extra lessons that will benefit your position when you run into another na'vi. if you are trying to learn our ways you have to find whatever is holding you back. it's a struggle within you.. in your memories demon. you have much to learn and that will help you discover what's inside of you that truly wants." she guides his hand over his chest over his heart, holding hers against his as a way to hunt himself.

the hand under hers felt rough but delicate at how tenderly she placed them, looking at him with sincerity. miles takes it as a semi step in their relationship.

something he hasn't ever felt since he was born a few days ago basically. the memories consume his daily routine in reminding himself that he is colonel miles rick quaritch, someone important and valuable to the mission and not some confused man in a na'vi body. at this point he's going with what the rda put him because they know much more in the previous years than he and his soldiers. he just woke up with a burden weighing on his shoulders he'd have to endure.

ingyen takes notice of the silence in timid air they're experiencing so she pulls her hand away which made him kind of missed her touch, "well your na'vi is getting there, you are a skxawng when it comes to creating a sentence. meanwhile we make through the forest, me and seykxel will be teaching how to hunt and herbs that'll be essential in any case of situation."

with a playful scoff to shrug off her change of attitude, "oh come on sweetheart, we were havin' quite a romantic moment."

"quite the opposite what you think of. you are a demon and i am a mother teaching babies learning how to walk. you have the mind of a teenager looking for a mate which is unlikely." nonchalantly tells him every other day he attempts in his failed flirting.

a mate? he wonders when he could bring up the topic someday in their days that come they're adventuring since he's not oblivious what she meant. his curiosity goes where he can gget the chance asking her if she is mated or not so he'd see what else he can use to his advantage other than the kid. the more insite he learns about her and spider's life.. his advancements to find jake sully will be closer.

before she could stand, the demon wanted to know about something that night spider sang the same song she sung on the first night. he was curious at how they could be related.

his hand reaches to grip hers slightly to stop her and she's startled by the contact looking at him with a questionable expression.

are you touching me? her body language said and he took the warning to back off, " sorry sweetheart i wanted to ask you about something, princess? i genuinely want to know.. truly." he says putting his playfulness aside for now.

the woman nods with a calm expression at his serious nature and passes this incident only once to know what was on his mind.

in her perspective, only as few days spent with the demon she learns there's something heavy in his heart and soul that causes him switching personas.

"uh.. it's about this song." he says scratching his head looming over the thought he's had for a days now. "a song?" she tilts her head to the side, quipped curiously.

"i don't know the words but spider was singing it the day before we came to the forest. the lines were about a birth within and thanking eywa." after he explained what he catched on that night, ingyen understood his explanation.

ingyen reaches into her small pouch, grabbing her son's song cord protected in a cloth, decorated beautifully with colored beads by the hands of a loving mother. she gently extends the song cord horizontal to present it properly to the demon, "what seykxel sang that night is a song from his song cord. waytelem. it is what i sing to him every night, what na'vi sing to remember of the story of our lives and with each bead like this one" she points a vibrant green from starting point on the thread, "is what we put at the start of our birth. i put this bead for my son when the great mother guided me to my baby and view it as his birth within me, as he grows i add another that makes his life important. there are other ornaments used such as crystals, bits of bone, and plant material. children's song cords are shorter in length than adults because of their young age but we sing what is close to truth in a different version. "

miles sees the hand made cord with small and big beads showing the significance, listening what she describes a meaning in life here on pandora. it's fascinating that instead of photographing the memories of that person's birth and accomplishment what he remembers in his memories but with songs and the cords.

songs that were sacred to the mother in front of him when she drops her stone cold demeanor for a second and changes back. he smiles at her slight grin staring at spider's cord so he's curious if he reached out to touch it but fought against it, it didn't hurt to ask.

"may i, sweetheart?" his extended hand asking permission. at first she retract her hand to hold it protective of the boy's cord but if she was going to be a positive influence them on the great mother's will, she'd withstand letting him on a hint of the culture with process.

ingyen reaches putting the cord in his large hand and by the way she acted a few seconds ago, his careful touch on the thread and beads that meant so much to put her at ease of his actions.

there wasn't much decorations on it since spider is still a child and still human pushes him back than any na'vi kid.

in his hands it felt nice. he can't imagine the work and love and care out into a wonderful ritual that signifies life of someone. her threads and jewelry represent spider well and has a meaning to how he lived on pandora.

a human child with a na'vi mother.

the wonder floating in his mind on how the child survived for so long among the mother's people and life style to be included in their culture and raised as a fearless kid. his resistance against humans who treated him as a delusional, savage kid and doesn't know the betrayal all those years ago was treated less human.

the humans in bridgehead city treated him far different even if they were the same race. the child was treated a savage and delusional, living a false life of lies because his biological parents died in battle.

they didn't see what miles saw. his blurred memories with his mother. someone who raised him as her own which makes him who is today

this kid is proof of his survival even when he was with the remaining humans on pandora.. this na'vi woman, ingyen, raised him as her own son and loves him and fights an eye for an eye if harm is done against her boy.

the song cord tells his story. a kid more na'vi than the avatars and recoms together.

ingyen's observes his characteristics in the way he held the cord. every touch and glance does something to him she's never seen in anyone.

at home everyone is accustomed with the culture and traditions including the scientists were willing to learn but with this demon taking in her son's cord and gentleness about it felt.. warm. no other avatar took his time in looking over the details and held it like a delicate flower in the palm of their hands.

miles is an interesting being she came across. other than avatars and scientists and her brother jake, she's curious on how he became into this life and who he truly is by the way he shows himself in front of others and times he is conflicted about himself but turn a blind eye.

just by watching him has her decide in showing them deeper into her and her son's way of life to connect and see everything through their eyes. embrace what life lead them here.

looking at how mesmerized he is at seykxel's cord gets her thinking, "i will be making song cords for all of you." miles is bewildered at her statement, "are you sure darling? there ain't much about us we know ever since we woke up."

she flicks his forehead what seemed the billionth time much to his disliking, "does not matter demon because you were born from the skies and the skies brought you here to the forest which eywa can embrace all of her children, you just have to believe what you can do with your new body if you put your heart and soul into the way of the na'vi."

"you like my body princess?" his smirk creeps onto his face and there no hint but a show of disgust on ingyen.

"i mentioned your body because you demons are not used to navigating with that much clothing holding you back. we wear loin clothes and anything we make so it'd be easier to run, hunt, and fly."

miles chuckles shaking his head handing her spider's song cord, "you ain't forcing me into those strings you call clothes lookin' like a joke. i am fine like this."

she shrugs with a whatever face, "suit yourself demon but i do suggest in cutting this part," hers hands moves to demonstrate the length of his pants, "traveling with only your feet helps better grip and agility in your ankles."

"alright cupcake i'll keep your little secret between us." he sends a friendly wink that causes her to push her ears back and tail rapidly move.

she scoffs, "there is no secret and no us, only me and my son. i mentioned your body because it does have a great shape by your shoulders that'll help you in your hunting but your posture is what i'll help you fix. your hands have a nice grip on things that'll be an advantage for you in hand to hand combat but your lower body lacks more muscle. with proper nutrition and work in the time we are stuck with each other, make it count."

she sees how he doesn't pay mind to what she says with his body in a relaxed position leaning on one of his hands. to keep edging the demon into a corner, she thought of a way to encourage him with minor manipulation.

by questioning his abilities and compare him to who he sees competition.

"jake sully didn't see a problem in withstand learning to be na'vi. in fact, he learned quick in a few weeks.. he's inspiring for the men in my village to become good warriors and the women swoon over him even when he is mated with neytiri. oh let me tell you how he helped rescuing my son one-" as she goes to ramble on and see the look on his face but meet an annoyed, bothered demon with his fists clenched.

with her smirk hidden under a stoic one, "what's wrong?"

miles tcks while he stands on his feet staring down at her, "i can do it quicker than sully did."

"really? well he finished his iknimaya in three months, i don't know how you're going to do that in a short amount of time. you have to be serious about it."

the demon smacks his lips with an exaggerated sigh, "i can do it in two months."

she catches her giggles by covering her mouth with her hand, "oh you demons make me laugh. let's make it one and some days, i feel we are going to have a tragedy." she stands on her feet facing face to face even when she a few inches short.

both of them didn't retreat from each other showing who's more dominant in this game of cat and mouse. standing tall and confident in their own skills. ingyen learns the way this new type of demon can improve what the great mother has in store for him that can alter everything in their lives and paths.

"well if, by any chance, make it to complete that ritual before sully you owe me a date sweetheart, without backing out." he suggest of getting the upper hand in developing a mutual relationship.

ingyen already figured out his true intentions just like every man and demon she's confronted but this demon somehow differs from any of them.

but she won't let her guard down showing her wrinkled expression in disgust, "you probably won't survive to accomplish that ridiculous ideal mission."

a finger settles below her chin, raising her head to meet his line of sight, yellow eyes dilate from the intense tension none of them are going to admit and their heart rates changing rapidly, "we'll just have to see and find out princess because i never heard you mentioning a mate."

at the moment, both back down and head back to their camp. there they see the recoms learning more na'vi with spider squatting in front and waving his hands around.

the young boy notices her mom's foot steps and stops what he was teaching them, sending her one of his pure smiles and immediately bolt towards her. he calls out to her like a small child showing his mother a rock he found just for her. ingyen smiles softly to welcome him in her arms. not too far from where she was, appears miles out of the shadows catching spider's attention so to make matters difficult and mildly out of reach, he puts his arms around her neck and jumps in her arms to carry him like a syaksyuk with it's baby.

without hesitation she went along whatever he pleased and spider used his thumb to go over his throat indicates that he'll kill him if anything harms or saddens his mother.

miles rolls his eyes not feeling an inch of threat he's been receiving for the past few days. jealousy over his mother's attention is something he thought he'd never seen from spider.

"good. everyone is here now i can tell you what's next on our lessons."

one by the name of alexander spoke, "what kind of lesson are we getting?"

"lessons that will help you survive on your own in any case of emergency or danger. become fierce warriors for the na'vi after you complete your iknimaya."

zdog raised her hand, "pardon my lady but what is a iknimaya?"

ingyen shakes her head out of kindness that they have no clue about the passage. she'll teach them about the training and hunting and fighting from na'vi and jake's lessons he taught her.

"iknimaya is a rite of passage for young na'vi hunter in order to become a warrior and taronyu.. hunter. this will be a difficult task that little have passed theirs in order to select one another and successfully bond with your ikran. a mountain banshee who will choose you if it attempts to kill you, their future partner."

now it was lyle's turn to ask, "wait a damn minute! you mean the ikran chosen when it wants to kill you! how does that makes sense?"

she chuckles at their sudden reaction that their is more to what she wants to say, "when you make tsaheylu with your ikrans, they will only bond with one na'vi for life and each of you spend time training and learning each other so you'd become close in the beautiful skies above our beloved forest. to build trust."

"yeah the rites of passage are sacred and important for warriors among the tribes. ikrans come in different colors with awesome teeth and as soon they come into contact with your sight they.. attacks!" spider exaggerated on the experience with the laughter he's getting when the recoms flinch. he's witnessed his friends complete theirs and he wishes he can do it.

the mother pats her son then to see how tense they all are.

"but before we can talk further about it; i teach you how we navigate the forest with our hands, feet, bodies, ears, and eyes. they're to be important when you hunt for your own food and water. you will learn to thank the great mother for hunting." she points out and miles butts in, "alright then ladies, gather your weapons we're goin' hunting."

the recoms start grabbing their armed guns and pistols when ingyen holds her bow out to whack the demon's head, he groans holding his throbbing skull, "sweetheart i think you're enjoying this a little too much. what did I do now? you said we were going to learn and you smack me." she hums, "exactly demon but not with your demonic tools, make too much noise and useless in the forest. you'll torture the animal."

"then what the hell are we suppose to use?" she puts her bow and arrows and dagger out to show them the obvious.

"this is what na'vi use to hunt and finish. it'll be more quiet and useful than a loud machine that can scare the prey." ingyen explains bringing out a handful of bows giving them a few arrows, and hand carved daggers she kept in some bush that surprised the recoms.

they didn't know how the hell she crafted them quick within a few day and kept them hidden well but they rather not question. they noticed each dagger is designed its own color and styles that are almost similar to theirs in their pockets. these daggers have their own signature to who holds it represents.such detail and work put into these gems.

miles was the first to get his own bow and analyzing each detail from the woods to the string attached then eyes his own crafted dagger, "this is what were going with?"

she nods, "yes and if you have problem then you can not complete your iknimaya to earn your ikran. if seykxel could, he'd done it less than jake and when you wish to do yours." spider puffs his chest out at his mother's high praise she gives.

"alright darling, how do you suggest we use them since all we used is our demonic machines."

"to use tsko you got to have good posture with correct breathing and your aim requires full concentration. i will show you." she waves them to walk behind her with spider on her back.

with the speed she was going it's difficult for them to catch up as they stepped on rocks, overgrown roots, slippery grass, and plants in their way. they're all out breath which got her smirking because they were all cocky and think some demons can out smart a na'vi woman and her child who loved here all their lives.

they all arrived with tired expressions to an open area where the sun shines through the outline of the trees. around the circle were placed with targets.. small, large, wide, narrow, high above the trees and few in between plants and branches.

she slightly bends down for her son to get off. as spider stood next to his mother, she let out a bird calling out to in the area and in the distance was a long screech. their ears flicker trying to locate the sound when a flying creature flew above them searching which the mother let out another call.

it locates her sound as it dove at a high speed where they were, making them think it was going to attack. they felt vulnerable but the creature spread it's wings to have a swift landing. looking at it closely is an ikran with a rider's seat strapped on it's back and screeches with ingyen offering a piece of meat to her ikran that accepts. she soothes the creature with a smile petting it, "this is tsìlpey. if you want to live, do not look at her in the eye." the recoms were too shocked in seeing one so soon that they averted their sight somewhere else fast before it offended the creature.

ingyen pats her ikran's neck to the chest as she grabbed a bow that was attached offering it to the child, "seykxel." her son saw the bow she brought with her knowing they were going to meet again, "nga tsko ma'itan. fkew tsamsiyu kin sneyä tsamsä'o."

your bow my son. a mighty warrior needs his war weapon.

spider grabs the bow to lay it down before he hugs his mother, appreciating that she brought his gift, "irayo sa'nok." thank you mom.

her smile grew everytime she feels his touch and warmth nature he brings. miles observe their interaction what seemed like a gesture of appreciation since the bow looks rather new without use and what he can understand is the bow of a warrior. it's different from what she showed them hers. there was a probability of earning your own signature to it.

the kid goes back to hold his bow in his hands and sits a nearby rock making a few adjustments to his comfort, "with the bows i made for you, we'll practice on correct posture and aim before you can shoot your arrow that may determine i let you hunt on your own and prove your skills."

"i think we'll get the posture down in no time sweetheart. we're military." miles spoke that caught the recoms to look at him to not push it and spider's wide eyes, side eyeing him like he didn't just hear what he told his mom since they've been seeing how much ingyen punishes the colonel everytime he got something wrong.

she quirks her blue, striped eyebrow while crossing her arms over her chest, "if you are a great demon warrior then show me. you fail, you run around the circle and do it again with what good posture i show."

miles takes the bow off his body and in his hands ready to show her what he's made of. with arms ready to raise at shoulder length with his right hand gripping the string and the other holding the base and placed arrow aiming the tree in front of him. he tries to imagine it with a gun when he locks eyes where he wants to shoot and he lets go. it hurt like hell holding for a few seconds by the texture he felt at his finger tips.

a smack and a tug at his tail burned his rage turning his head a full degree towards the mother. what the hell could he have done wrong this time like his posture wasn't bad? ingyen points her finger where he supposedly shoot but was no where to be seen, "you fail demon. i want you to go run, wait for your turn once your back."

she orders him since he doesn't have a choice, "my posture was at least good. i held the bow how you na'vi do it even if my shot is by a long shot perfect."

"you did not. your arms were low. your gear is in the way checking if you were sucking your stomach in properly and the way you held your bow is on wrong side so you did not do any. now go before your punishment gets worse." with those demands the man groans and starts his one lap.

it's staring to feel like military training all over again.

his team began to snicker when he left just by seeing him give in easily, let alone be a na'vi woman demanding him like a sergeant. they found it amusing and hilarious as spider ran beside him to taunt straight in his face.

ingyen turns her head in their direction and they quit their horse play to focus in avoiding of facing her rath.

"who wants to be next and what do you prefer? i teach or test your skills blindly?"

...

hours and hours of bow training spent the recoms in cardiac arrest, with punishments they faced of any slight error ingyen notices.

you miss a shot.. run.

your posture is in incorrect. smack!

your fingers get cramped. you get cussed out by her.

you didn't raise your arms right.. just pray to the great mother the looks she gives doesn't drop you dead immediately.

it went worse for their colonel. his left hand became more cramped and gained bruises, his body aching has come intolerable for him to move a muscle, his head hurt like bitch from the whacking, and is done being cussed out by her.

the worst is the kid watched the whole thing as soon her back was turned making the situation worse by taunting him.

finally the day full of clouds were adorned by stars in the eclipse, they can rest for another learning experience of the na'vi life. nobody said it was going to be easy but they didn't expect it to be this challenging with learning the language at the same time.

miles spent his few minutes of break on composing himself as quick as can before she comes back from her hunt, "you know you can always quit dude. just tell my mom and she'll see how unteachable you are compared to the others.."

spider appears in his line of sight smiling at watching him suffer at the aftermath, groaning to even consider the thought in quiting.. not when he's close.

"give you the satisfaction? no way i'm doing that. quite frankly i am starting getting used to this and your pretty momma." he spits back to shut him up which works everytime he changes his cocky look to a displeased one.

"don't look at me like that kid, you were poking fun at me."

spider crosses his arms over his chest, "yeah that's funny but mentioning my mom isn't."

miles chuckles at his immaturity thinking that he'll be with her in the slightest.

i mean.. he does find her attractive. her face holds an immense grudge but once her walls are knocked down, she looks beautiful smiling and laughing whenever they mess up. when she's teaching him how to hold a bow, makes him look at her with a fierce personality and a passion for teaching her culture and lifestyle. the colonel only seen a small glimpse of her features.. like her eyes have a nice shade of vibrant yellow, her lips hold a blush of purple that suits her blue skin, her braided hair moving swiftly as she goes, the way she cares for spider in her motherly nature; even if he's human she holds him dear to her heart watching the love she gives to the boy.

the hardcore training is just the tip of the ice berg but with the their training and development on getting to know more of their culture and lifestyle.. he'll be able accomplish his goal soon.

he admits he admired her fierce personality and rude behavior because he's usually not the one receiving orders including punishment. no matter how much he got smacked, yelled, and punished he handled it professionally so he'd investigate on how she acts, the way she speaks, and how she comes off as.

miles dozed off when the snap of the kid's fingers brought him back to his senses as he is now sitting near where he laid.

spider's hesitant on asking the recom about something but in the end, "so you just woke up with the memories of the demon?"

"what?" he turns his attention back to him.

spider sighs, "did you wake up with the memories of that man? like that's all you know about yourself? no memories or anything that makes you different from him?"

the question he made is a good one. is that all he really knows? was he someone before the memories? he's thinking the last time his memories were suddenly input into his system as he suffers the consequence of questioning his identity. there's no recollection of who he was before he woke up. that is until-

those dreams he's had.

miles hasn't developed a head ache for a while now which is odd because they were down right painful.

"i guess no but there were dreams i've had about the forest." he explains as he moves his head to look up the sky.

"the forest? how? when-" spider spoke but got interrupted by him.

"i haven't born or ever been on pandora. i do not know, same thing i'm asking myself kid." miles sighs covering his face with his arm.

they stay in silence with no clue what else to say but spider did the talking again, "these dreams of the forest, what are they about?"

the recom thinks about what he dreamt about since he didn't have time and proper way of coping with such unknown thoughts he can't even mention in reports.

"i was running through the forest basically and that i barely noticed i was bare foot, let alone being in na'vi attire." this caught the boy's attention one hundred percent, "i just realized in it, i could manage a bow and was hunting."

"nah i don't believe dude! you managing a bow when you've sucked the whole day!" spider laughs at his confession loudly to embarrass miles.

miles grunts and sits up beside him, "ha ha ha. laugh it off squirt, have your little laugh off."

the boy wipes his fake tears regaining his composure after awhile, "okay i'm good now. so what else have you dreamt other than false information?"

miles glares at him for a second and places a hand under his chin, "from what i remember is a woman and a child. they were acting like if they were my family or something."

spider looks at him to see if he's lying and making stuff up to sway him into becoming close but there was no such sign.

the recom continues, "i don't know much but it seemed a happy family in my perspective. there are times i do have memories of human quaritch time to time when that dream vanishes but you can say it's a reminder about who i supposedly am. i was basically birth to do this. what do you think it means?"

the way he explained what he truly felt is a strange experience for the young boy to hear when the recom is the embodiment of his biological father. watching and hearing him be vulnerable for a moment pulls his heart string a bit. he sees what miles can't understand himself.

a confused recom born into this world with the memories who he should take revenge upon betray and disloyalty when he doesn't know the purpose of his life. born into someone that he thinks is him but not himself.

spider shrugs now acting mature in this kind of conversation, "to be honest.. i don't even know. i also had stranger dreams of a na'vi man being mated with my mother. i never seen so happy with someone. my mother may know something about these dreams because my grandmother is tsahik, they talk about these kind stuff. i can ask her."

miles nods in accepting the kid to find the information he needs for personal reason aside from finding jake sully's whereabouts. it doesn't hurt to find out what he's been wanting to find out more about himself and what his purpose is from what happened with the glowing jellyfish.

he had an idea to get closer to spider, "hey i've been meaning to ask your mom but i never got the chance since she seems she has it out for me," it earns him a genuine chuckle from the boy and shares a soft smile, "why does she call you say- saylkeyel cay? something along those words, i'm curious if that's your name?"

spider's eyes widen a bit at his question. it was so strange he manage to catch a small detail that as an enemy wouldn't take into account.

maybe- spider thinks maybe this miles quaritch is far different from the stories he's told by the omatikaya and jake.

he doesn't know where to begin, "it is my name. from what my mother told me is when guided by the great mother, an atorkirina led her where i was asleep at hell's gate and she saw me.. my mother basically didn't question her fate or hesitated in becoming a mother to a human child. she hated humans especially at the demon for causing so much pain and nightmares that she couldn't stand none of them when war was over. her hatred and resentment grew more in her heart."

miles listened carefully what can be useful for a future purpose and spider continues, "many thought eywa led her to her doom because of her hatred and spite against sky people but it was the complete opposite. she called me her syawn." the man picked up what it meant, "blessing."

the kid nods with a cute smile that ignites a sentimental sensation inside miles, "in the beginning she didn't like the idea of asking the help of humans to raise me but she decided it was the best she has knowledge on my growth and health that'll be safe for me to grow strong."

"i bet you looked really tiny in her arms." they laugh simultaneously that you see them carefully.. they were identical to a great extent.

ingyen watched afar of her son's interaction with the demon between the large leaves. her skills of hiding in silence helped her witness their alone time to an advantage if the demon was going to take action in manipulating her son.

but she saw for a second how lively seykxel shined brighter than a star when he was asked about himself. no disgust or fear in his entire life radiating off of another being.

"dude i was compared to a an animal called a kangaroo and her joey. the scientist showed me pictures because they thought it was cute on how i cling to her in a prrsmung." he shows how as a baby his mother took him everywhere.

they were like in their own little world that ingyen wished her son had someone to call a father because of her prise to choose someone who accepts her son just the way he is but it cant be him..

truly not in her years she sees the first someone genuinely interested in her son about himself would be a demon who appears as the sky demon but not entirely.

"then when she asked of my name, she disliked it because it wasn't unique and wouldn't have a strong meaning. seykxel is strength.. emotionally and spiritually as she intended on how i will be facing hard ships with the people accepting me as her son and omatikaya." he continues his explanation, "kay is from now in the future that can be combined together. seykxel kay. 'your strength from now in the future'. if your new it's complicated to understand but she chose this name to be meaningful. i guess i never saw that until i felt i would never se my momma again."

spider became vulnerable in front of someone other than his mother and kiri. ingyen never expected him to feel comfortable around the demon in sharing his feeling and thoughts in his life he kept inside long enough that to tell it to him.

miles didn't know how to react or how to respond but he does know this kid never had a father figure that he always wanted and his mother had to fill in the role so he'd be accepted. to the point he is wiping a tear away before it could fall down his face, "but now I have her here with me. she must've felt at a loss when i couldn't go back. thanks by the way for torturing my mother without me," he sarcastically says and quaritch rolls his eyes, "either way we're stuck here with you and planning to kill you at some point."

miles laughs, "you killing me kid? i bet you don't know hand to hand combat."

"hell yeah i can cuz! jake taught me what was taught to me."

"hah! sully learned that shit from me so it is my training. i have to knock in some sense into you brat. see if you are capable landing a punch on me." he nudges him with his elbow, leaning half way to his shoulders.

the young boy pushes with all his strength barely moving the recom sitting stiff. ingyen smiles at their interaction but keeps in mind that he plays mind games to gain what he needs most from them.

for now she'll let her boy be a child that need acceptance from someone who willingly heard him and sees him.

she knows the demon doesn't know the concept of 'i see you' in their culture but she can teach him into becoming someone far different than who he's suppose to be. she just wants to go home with her son away from war, in that case she will try accepting this demon into learning their lifestyle.

ingyen disappears into the woods to not alert their instincts and come back to seem she never heard their conversation.

she is rethinking her mother's words wisely before her son was taken.

"sa'nok i've been experiencing these dreams of a man. a man i do not know or familiar with because nobody here has the exact image. no long hair, small ears, five fingers that are touching me and looking at me with admiration. we act like mates in what i dream and i am frighten by what it'll mean for me and seykxel. what do i do mother? what does it mean?"

mo'at experiences in this kind of field where one dreams of another at where they could possibly meet or their destiny even when they have never met.

her mother knows something is upon her daughter and her grandson. she takes a deep breath before she spoke, "'ite, what is upon you you choose what is right and whatever the path you are lead to, helps you in what you're looking for. what seykxel desires in his life. there's someone waiting for you both."

ingyen now is frantic what got her mother to the conclusion of finding what she was looking for as someone was waiting.

she didn't need anything else other than her child. and this someone she doesn't know, are they looking for them as well?

mo'at continues, "my child. there is someone who changes your life for better or worse it's what you want and decide in accepting this person. in their downfall, mistakes, and sins. whether it be demon or not, it's what the great mother chooses. the sign she gives is what has been waiting to be searched for a long time but there is darkness upon this person. that is all i can say." she pecks her daughter's head and creases her face.

"and if it affects my son. mother i don't what i i'll do if something were to happen to him." she starts to tear up and her lips wobble at imagining her seykxel in any kind of pain.

"then choose how you act on it my daughter. there are mistakes to be made other wise how would the great mother balance the way of life." she explains playing with her hair for comfort.

her mother was right.

how she approaches these challenges and obstacles are the balance eywa measures within us.

if her son choose his own path then it's something she'll accept as a mother.

she can't shake off the idea of the demon being the possible mate she chooses because out all the bachelors to choose from.. it can be the sins of the devil.

all of them were aware of their coincidental dreams but none of them want to go specifically into detail in any case something happens or doesn't. depends on what they chose and how they react to such vivid memories.

...

after some time miles returns with spider bumping into each other like friends to see who's stronger. of course miles was by a long shot knocking him into a couple of plants on the way and left leaves in his hair as evidence at their childish play.

they see ingyen in a distance cutting the animal in focus to prepare the meal correctly. spider runs to her, ready to help in anything she will need.

"oel ngati kameie sa'nok." he motions the greeting and she does it back with her kind smile. i see you mom.

"fyape aynga lu ma'ite? nga tìsop nìltsan?" she questions on his weird, euphoric behavior. how you been my son? your adventure went well?

"säro'a. miles kar oe tsyokx wä' tsukfäru!" he shows a pretend move against nothing in front of him to show off his skills. it was great. miles taught me hand to hand combat skills.

she giggles watching him be a child again with everything going on. nothing can defeat the flame within him.

she tells him she needs a few things in the forest for the meal. he happily obliged to help her in anything possible.

as he made his venture out alone, miles watch him disappear in the depths of the forest, "you think it's fine he goes alone in the forest?"

she scoffs at his worrisome, "he is a mighty warrior. he is my son. i am his mother. this is his home and it's where he belongs. he knows his way around and if he was in any kind of danger i can get there. i found him and you in a day."

miles squats to her level on the ground and reaches a hand out under her chin since she keeps avoiding eye contact, "seems to me you are an overprotective mamas but you give whatever the kid wants, darling."

she hisses a warning, shrugging off his touch, "of course i am. i am his mother."

he sighs knowing he won't get nowhere with how she acts and does his thing again. grabbing her chin gently to move her attention towards him as he gets close to her, face to face.

he knows he's not repulsive when it comes to appearance and is physically fit making him think how can she resists. he has charm to the authority he radiates within him. there's gotta be a way to sway her heart.

"yeah you did found me and him. what else did you find?" his low sultry voice made her heart a bit tingly but disguised it with a blatant look.

"a son of a bitch." ingyen spits back showing off her fangs in a threatening manner.

miles smirks, "bet those little fangs of yours can give me a heck of a bite like your dirty mouth. right, cupcake?"

she slaps it away clearly showing disgust. before she responds her son comes back with the tools his mom needed with a huge smile.

talk about right timing. miles thought looking smuggling towards her.

her eyes tell him that when they're alone.. he's dead meat like the animal she's skinning.

thinking how this woman is the one in his dreams has him question some stuff that are unanswered. just as spider said about a na'vi man mated with his mother.

he wonders in asking her at the right time because she still seems hostile and closed off to goof off a bit but it makes her unique to him.

what do you think your doing boy? use the kid against her?!

huh? who is it? is it the same voice?

seems you forgotten your place as colonel, soldier?

miles is getting the severe head aches once again. his vision starts getting blurry seeing a blurry image of a man. a human.

the human stood there in military attire staring in his direction.

you haven't got soft have you? is this pathetic savage and boy getting you butterflies and rainbows? no!

why are you holding back?!

holding back.. you mean ingyen and spider? i don't know what you mean? who are you?

you are me and i am you. do what you born to do!

it irritated him how much he keeps hearing that voice constantly. like a virus fighting its way to spread through his body. poison him into it's bidding every time he speaks.

are you tormented by memories my child? a soft and influential voice spoke. miles felt torn between everything. the woman and spider. human quaritch's voice and memories torturing his mind.. manipulating. now another figure or something.

ingyen observes how quickly he changed the way he act a second ago. she feels this intense vibe or curse weighing on this demon battling his inner self.

spider felt his mother's aura full of overwhelmed emotions as she carefully watches over the recom, gripping his head with heavy breath, ears pressed back, and tail swaying in anguish.

spider goes to stand in front of him and place his small hand on his arm for comfort. in response, miles looks at him with eyes full of hesitancy, misery, enragement and doubtful expression he can't manage to tell.

ingyen drops her resilience to join her son to condolence the demon. both of their touch slowly decelerates his heart beat and regains his senses but there is still doubt and immense fear in his eyes. it kind of hurts the mother, she goes as far as bringing him into her arms, pulling her son in as well.

she doesn't know why she's doing it for his sake but there's a curse among him that haunts his day to day life. she's noticed his change when he enters into this state.

the three stayed in silent.

miles close his eyes, taking deep breaths to regain his conscious, and does what he can on making the figure of human quaritch disappear for a while.

ingyen somehow thought of petting his head slowly and started to hum of a lullaby her mother sung to her child self.

little one, do not fear

for i am here, just let go

let your worries disappear

you are everything to me

here i stay

release your fears and nightmares

as i cradle you in my arms

close your eyes and take a breath

feel the love and joy i see

i am here to see that precious smile

brighter than the stars

i see you little one

for i am to protect you

daughter of mine

the mother repeats the melody in hopes of calming the demon which in the end actually worked since her son hums along. miles goes to grab onto each hand and rubs their knuckles.

as soon as he recovered he looks at ingyen, thanking her with his eyes. communicating with one look says it all.

spider watches the moment closely how they give each other the look of sincerity displayed. it's different than how they usually show their own character.

his mama never gave someone a gentle, concern expression.. much less a man who's tried flirting with her and teased her on many occasions.

miles was a different story. the young boy witnessed different scenarios when miles acted different than who he met on the first day. one moment he's a colonel doing what he thinks is right and ordered to do. an intelligent bio weapon the humans rely onto completing what they should've in the beginning. a lost na'vi with the memories of the demon haunting him to influence his choices. someone with a resemblance of his biological father who was never there in the beginning, is acting like they were buddies since the beginning.

he's conflicted with the variety of miles in his eyes that he believes there's only one that can determine the truth of miles identity.

just as the emotional moment slowly died in a pregnant silence, ingyen moves her body away from the demon with her son following.

"you seem to have calm down." she says trying to avoid eye contact again, "i have to prepare our food for the night. i will see you with your friends."

ingyen excused herself and walks where her prey was to take back to camp where the other recoms are. miles and spider stay in their silent bubble trying to grasp what has happened.

"are you feeling alright?" spider asks with eccentricity.

miles nods, "yes it's something that stuck ever since so i'm figuring out what's causing this when it's reoccurring for me. i have to report it back at bridgehead city of my condition. bummer delivering the bad news, both of you have to come with us."

the boy whistled a long one rocking side to side, "my momma is not gonna like this one."

the man chuckles, "yeah. you are right in something."

"you gonna tell her now?"

the recom sighs readies himself before he interacts with the na'vi woman, "have to."

eclipse has started to set in the night sky as everyone prepared their bedding on the trees.

ingyen is set to lay down with her boy when the colonel appears behind her, along his presence known.

he fake coughs to catch her attention which she took her time to look back at him, "yes?"

"i need a word with you, sweetheart." he turns where he'll lead her to a secluded area to talk privately. she tilts her to side at his awkwardness but pushed it behind her as she pecks her son's forehead and a whisper prayer.

she smiles fixing his hair and leaves him to rest to talk with the demon. the recoms all watch this happen until they can not be seen and zdog decided to release the tension.

"so how much we betting that one of them falls for the other? i'm putting two hundred colonel does first."

the recoms choked on their last bit of food and with a croaking voice mansk rebuttals, "what the hell are you on about z? we're on a mission and you seem to forget she and the kid are sully's allies."

"yeah but doesn't hurt a little complicated romance waiting to build. the classical forbidden romance. have you seen how the colonel looks at her!"

brown shrugs, "i'm betting four if ingyen turns smitten for him. she may look as if she can't tolerate and wants him dead but there's care in her heart. she told me my balance was off by tilted my arm this way and it worked! she says i am getting there to earn my ikran."

"i'm putting eight hundred if both of them fall at the same time!" lyle states loudly eating his last bit of meat which shocked the recoms at his theory.

"that's certainly impossible wainfleet. it looks like a one sided if we're speaking on facts." mansk rebuttals.

zdog scoffs, "as if you know women. i know my girl better than anybody."

meanwhile the recoms are discussing among themselves on their bets, miles and ingyen reached where it was far from the group.

"look cupcake, i know you're not fond of us or the humans but we're gonna have to take you with us. i have to be checked on and we can't just let you go." miles explains seeing how she didn't take it lightly.

"me and seykxel are not going to that place." she plainly says to get her point across.

miles sighs knowing it's not going to be an easy task in convincing her, "well sweetheart agree to disagree whether you want to or not, you're comin'."

she hisses at him displeased at his response.

"i get who you're trying to protect but it's risky enough spider has a mask with a tracker on it and if you take him, it'll lead us right where your home is," he holds her arms to think straight of what he's saying, "i promise with me around, nobody won't touch you or the kid."

her ears perk up at his offer to keep them out of reach from harm.

"i can not forgive what they done to my boy.. he is a child. why use innocent children to gain what you need?" she gasps in between breaths, rage filling her body to even think they'd use a kid to manipulate the situation.

"i'm asking myself the same thing but i guarantee that you'll be close to where i'm at. just follow what i tell you and everything is fine."

she hesitates, "if they hurt seykxel i will kill all of them. i swear to end you for not holding what you are promising-" miles interrupts her declaration of slaughter on those she calls demons in her eyes, "they won't touch him and you. not a single fingertip doll."

he seemed true to his words by the way he looks at her and in his voice with determination. she doesn't know why in her heart she's going to believe the vivid memories of the very demon who took everything from her and her people.

there's a battle between the now and past. both have a role in her life changing how she acts and how she lives with her life. by seeing this demon telling how her what could be empty promises.. has her thinking differently about him.

her eyes keeping searching for an answer in his manipulation tactics to trust him and give into his sins.

through his eyes... there was only promising.

they only known each other for a couple of days but somewhere along being stuck.. both of them have the impression they'll get along some day that is destined by these dreams.

they for sure want avoiding in and hesitate when the time comes of war because in the end... no one wins.

it'll be their doom if it counts a face off and they have a choice of choosing in their belief and motivation, ingyen saving and defending her home from the sky people's return for her son. as for miles, all he knows is jake sully betrayed the man who's memories engraved in his system and nothing else. he can't acknowledge himself because of the sole purpose of being created as back up in case the humans didn't accomplish what they were sent here for.

they met at a wrong time.

for sure there's nothing they could do about it but live how life is goin right now and prepare for the worst.

TAGLIST

@skinmittensgoblin @eternallyvenus @winxschester @perseny @cleverzonkwombatsludge @reallysparklychaos @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @liyahsocorro @violet-19999 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ratchetprime211 @analuw @alexandra-001

𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔

miles quaritch x oc navi

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐄𝐘𝐖𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑.

𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐖𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇.

a navi mother willing to do whatever it takes and amount of will to save her baby from the sky demons who've taken her child. she will not rest until he is safe at home but on her journey, she encounters avatars that aren't from her tribe.

one avatar in particular who she has seen before.. the father of your child.

and so does he find her familiar..

"I'm with you, ma yawntu. i see you."

"let eywa guide you to me when you have chosen. be the person you want to be miles."

RATING : EXPLICIT

WARNINGS : ANGST | ENEMIES TO LOVERS | FLUFF | SMUT | SLOW BURN | ROMANCE | | PREGNANCY?| CANON VIOLENCE | DEATHS EXPLICIT LANGUAGE | CHILD NEGLECT | DEPRESSION |MENTIONS OF COLONIZATION | TORTURE

CHAPTER INDEX

PROLOGUE

1. MA'ITAN

2. RETURN OF A GHOST

3. SEYKXEL'S PATH

4. A MOTHER'S MISSION

5. ONCE UPON A DREAM

6. FIRST LESSON - BABY STEPS PART 1 | PART 2

7. THE THREAT WITHIN

8. LESSONS FROM A WARRIOR PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

9. ???

10. ???

11. ???

12. ???

＿＿＿ BONUS ＿＿＿

SEYKXEL KAY'S FIRST COMMUNION WITH EYWA PART 1 |

PART 2 | PART 3

???

???

＿＿＿SPECIAL CHAPTERS＿＿＿

HAPPY MAMA

＿＿＿WHAT IF?＿＿＿

???

???

TAGLIST

@skinmittensgoblin @eternallyvenus @winxschester @perseny @cleverzonkwombatsludge @reallysparklychaos @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @liyahsocorro @violet-19999 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

I See You - Chapter 3

Miles Quaritch x Fem! Na'vi OC

Summary: Vira Te Wou Auhew’ite, an albino Na'vi and future Tsahìk of the Tayrangi Clan, The Ikran Riders of the Eastern Sea, keeps needing to save the demon Miles Quaritch at Ewyas command. When she's given a sign to try to teach him The People's way, both she and Miles struggle with their growing feelings for each other.

Authors note: Sorry this took so long guys, I don't love this chapter and it has been rewritten like 3 times and I just couldn't do it anymore. I also just got back from vacation to 99+ notifications and I'm floored but also too overwhelmed to go through them so I will be updating the tag list if there are any AFTER CHAPTER 4, which is going up tomorrow as an apology for taking forever. I do enjoy the next chapter so hope you guys do too!

PS I tried moving the taglist to the comments, please let me know if it doesn't work! This is my first time ever using tumblr, still learning!

Rating: T (last T chapter just FYI)

Warnings: Canon typical violence, strong language/swearing, mild mentions of mating/sex, depiction of animal birth

Words: 5820-ish, give or take a few.

--

Chapter 3

Miles stayed up into the night, the albino Na’vi passed out beside him snoring softly on his shoulder, the hammock she worked on tirelessly draped over her small form and partially over his legs. Anyone else and he probably would have shoved them off him but he let her and the mess of white-blonde hair stay put as he watched the fire smolder down to ashes. 

Why did he touch her hand like that? He’d been interested in watching her experiment with his had, she wasn’t scared of his pinky, she found it fascinating, found him fascinating. Miles saw no fear in her like the other natives had for him, except that time he’d pushed her up against the tree.  She even liked hearing the stories about humans l, Bridgehead city and earth, curious little thing she was. Her orange eyes lit up sometimes like he was talking about magic. 

But he had no explanation even to himself why when she'd put their palms together he’d folded his large hand over her small pink one. Reflex? It had felt right when she lined up her little hand, it was something maybe his grand pappy had done once when he’d gone to visit as a kid. It was something he felt boarded on affection. Couldn’t be having that. He told himself he was just trying to make her happy so she wouldn’t run home. Swore to himself he’d be damned if he ended up like Jake Sully, abandoning his people for some local tail.

The thought did cross his mind briefly that he was even less human than Sully had been when he’d taken a Na’vi mate, he’d merely been an avatar driver. Quaritch was a damn na’vi, grown in some lab with human memories and his own human DNA spliced together to create who he was now. 

Miles felt sleep getting the better of him, yellow eyes growing heavy as he started into the embers . He moved Vira’s little pink body as gently as he could off his shoulder and the tree so she was laying on the mat, facing away from him. She didn’t even wake up as he easily cradled her in one arm to move her, her sweet scent filled his nose. If he left her sitting up she cursed the whole morning under her breath about her back hurting and he didn't want to wake up to her whining again. Miles didn’t know what to do with her hammock and he threw it over her like a blanket and laid down beside her, back to her. He did put his tail over her small pink waist, so he’d feel if she moved, couldn’t have his na’vi teacher falling off the tree. 

Quaritch fell asleep knowing well enough that there was room to sleep 4 more full-grown na’vi on the branch and none of them would have fallen. 

What was he doing? 

He just cared because they were in close contact, she was the only person to talk to for a thousand clicks. Even soldiers who didn’t like each other got close living together in barracks. 

That’s all it was. 

—

Vira rose with the sun, deciding instead of hunting again today, she would use the day to try and teach Miles to better move through the higher limbs in the jungle. They had gone hunting the past few days on the ground with little success, it was time to take their hunt to higher ground. She’d gotten them a Syaksyuk to eat from the ground that would last a few days yesterday but Miles needed to master hunting with the bow. She blamed Miles' noisy clothes for scaring away the animals on the forest floor. From above though, their sounds would be less suspicious to the wildlife and it would be advantageous if they could move quickly and quietly through the trees with bows. Their prey would never know they were even there.

The Na’vi swiftly could move from layer to layer of the jungle, swinging on vines, using their bodies to propel them, and jumping from high places. Miles needed to learn to move like them in addition to living and hunting like them, it was part of their way of life. 

Vira sat up from the sleeping mat, Miles still snored softly beside her and she removed his tail from being draped over the nivi and her midsection. She’d worked on the nivi every moment she didn’t have anything else to work on, she looked forward to a good nights sleep in a hammock. Many times she had fallen asleep against the tree’s trunk but Miles lately had been moving her to her side and covering her with it. She woke up nearly every morning with his tail somewhere on her too,  Every spare moment she dedicated to it, when she’s seen the elders work on it in other villages it was something special to add a new one, something not to be rushed and could take several short cycles to finish but in this home tree they selected they had no other place but the branch to sleep on. She wanted them to have comfort for their stay and be well rested. Her back and limbs were sore most mornings, the grass had been more comfortable but it was dangerous for only two na’vi to stay on the ground. 

Back at the Eastern sea her people slept in small huts in a large cave. They slept on soft beds of glowing moss and soft spun linens of all colors spun by their own elders. Families shared a hut until they were mated. Her sister, her three younger male cousins who her mother had taken in after her sister, Ìveye passings. She had lost her aunt, closest confidant at that young age but gained 3 brothers, even the youngest who had lived for eighteen full sky cycles had mated and left their hut. Only Vira and mother were left in their hut, she wondered what her mother would do once she left. In truth she could take another mate if she desired and even have more children, she was not too old. Na’vi could live over 160 full sky cycles, mother was not even halfway through her lifetime, at 56 full cycles. 

But Vira did not foresee her mother doing this, she was rigid, she was Tsahìk. She would likely stay alone or move to the hut that housed the elder females who were widowed, the village Aunties. 

Vira stretched and popped her limbs, not wishing to think of her mother or home anymore. She gathered her nivi back up into her pink hands and continued weaving.. She got lost watching her pink hands in the repetitive motion, looking at them made her mind wonder back to several nights past. Thinking back to her hand being dwarfed by Miles own with his fingers folded over hers. They had not spoken much after, eating the Yovos in silence until Miles fell asleep. She’d stayed up weaving until her eyes could no longer stay open and her fingers were numb but when she’d awoken that was the first time he’d moved her to sleep on the sleeping mat. The act made her already tender heart soften to him, a kind act even amongst all his sharp edges. 

The pink Na’vi was intuitive, she sensed much conflict in his heart. Miles heart was torn between embracing the Na’vi teachings and being one of the sky people. She saw it in his actions, in the way he spoke. In this short time together she felt his growing connection to the forest, to the Na’vi ways, how he had used the spear so perfectly was proof enough to her. But he could not shed himself yet of the alien clothing nor fully of their weapons, he still held the gun on his hip and the wicked metal knife behind him.

Vira did not take offense to his lack of change, change was hard, even for the Na’vi. She knew the change that waited for her when she returned home would be hard, she would become a mated pair with Huärì and leave the safety of her mothers hut. She would no longer travel, would no longer teach the younglings of the other clans and customs. Tsahìk training would be how she spent her days, a task she was unsure if her heart truly desired but it was what it was meant to do. The only change she looked forward to was having her own brood of Na’vi babies. Na’vi women had anywhere from one to ten children in all stages of their life. Her own mother had only bore she and Ikeyni. Vira secretly prayed to Ewya she would have more children than that but any child would be a gift. Her sister already had three of her own, surely she would have as many. 

Her thoughts and hands stopped when Miles finally opened his sleepy yellow eyes. 

“Mornin’” voice deep and grumbly with tiredness as he sat up. 

“Big day today,” 

“We huntin’ with the bows again?” 

She shook her head of white, wild curls. “You need to learn the upper forest, how to move quick and quiet, it will make you better hunter.”

“I’d say I’m pretty damn good with a spear” he gestured behind him with his thumb to her etching of him with the Yerik. 

She smiled, he was a prideful one. “How many kills have you made with bow?”

Miles made a thoughtful sound and the corners of his mouth turned down in reluctant acceptance of her plans. They’d gone out on the ground with their bows and had seen lots of wildlife but they had not gotten a kill. Vira blamed Miles loud pants for scaring off the animals but he didn't seem to agree. Either way, a kill from above would be better for them, helping hide any noise or scents.

They’d been eating fresh Teylul they gathered over the past few days as well as fruits. She’d gotten a syaksyuk one night and roasted it over the fire spit they’d made but she wanted Miles to be the hunter, he needed to learn, not her. 

“Once you master hunting from the tree, the next step will be from Ikran.”

“Now I like the sound of that Princess .” He grabbed his bow. 

With bows in hand, they scaled down to the mid branches of their home tree. A fall from this height would not kill Miles but it would not be pleasant if he fell. To the Na’vi sometimes pain was a necessary tool for teaching, not corporal pain inflicted on purpose but the pain from an experience, to learn from it. Vira said a small silent prayer to the great mother that Miles would be sure of foot and not do harm himself. 

She held her bow in one hand while Miles kept his slung over his shoulder so he could easily use two of his hands. Vira ran along the branch they stood on and jumped to the next tree over, the gap was small and Miles followed her with no problem. 

Vira took off then through the jungle, a grueling pace but she judged Miles a quick study in all things physical. Hunting, weapons, and now even racing through the tangles of branches. The injuries he sustained no longer seemed to affect him, Ewya had healed him quicker than expected was her only explanation. The great mother must have wanted him to learn quickly, Vira would obey her command. 

She’d been right to go fast and strenuous, Miles was keeping good pace with her, running and jumping with ease. He only paused when there was a small gap between two branches but a low hanging one overhead could be reached. Without hesitation, Vira jumped to grab the branch and rolled her body, using her body weight with one hand to propel her pink body forward. 

The Na’vi woman turned back when she did not hear the large blue Na’vi behind her, he was standing on the edge of the branch, staring at her with his jaw wide. Vira beamed a smile at him.

Miles let out a low whistle. “Didn’t imagine you could move like that, Princess,” he complimented from across the branches. His yellow eyes looked back and forth from where Vira stood. 

“You can do it!" she encouraged "Move back, spring up with your body, and swing yourself over. “ she instructed, doing her best to illustrate the movement again from where she stood.

“I got this one Tiny, don't worry 'bout me. " Miles backed up a few paces, easily jumping up with his large body, he grabbed the branch Vira had swung from with two hands and swung himself over with ease. 

“Have you done this before? You are quick. Fast learner.”

“Someone taught me a little bit, never gone so fast before.”

“The sky boy?” She remembered him from the beach, from when the Ilu was shot. From when the huts were burned. The boy had dressed and spoken Na’vi as though he was a true-born son of Ewya.  She remembered he had painted himself with blue stripes in an attempt to appear more like one of The People.

Miles nodded. “Spider, he likes to go by Spider.” He looked down at her, she couldn’t quite read the tall Na’vi’s expression but his yellow eyes were sad. They reflected the sadness and conflict she knew resided in his strong heart.

“He’s my son.”

Vira couldn’t hide the surprise on her face, her orange eyes opened wider and wider as she thought of question after question.  Was she keeping him from returning to his mate, to his child by teaching him to be Na’vi out here in the forest? Miles had already told her when they shared stories around the fire in the evenings, about how he was once a sky person, a human, but was now was in a Na’vi body. He didn’t dream walk like others who had came before. The details entranced her, all the science the Sky People possessed seemed like magic to her. She had not thought that he had a family from when he was human. She sometimes forgot he was anything more than Na’vi. 

Guilt and something else twisted deep in the pink na’vis stomach. Vira had never considered he was spoken for and she didn’t enjoy the thought, even though she had a betrothed of her own waiting for her at the Easter Sea. 

“Am I keeping you from him?” Her mouth felt dry, like no amount of water could quench her thirst. A lump formed in her throat. “From your mate?” The question came out meeker than she intended.

“No, nothing like that Tiny. His mom is died a long time ago. Spiders off somewhere with the reef people, pretty sure anyway,” there was a bitterness and maybe a hint of jealousy in his words. 

Something he left unsaid.

Vira swallowed hard, feelings she couldn’t place swirling in her head and her stomach. Did she really feel relief to hear someone had passed on from this life? Why did she feel relief at all? What kind of monster was she to feel this way? Miles did not seem particularly sad at the mention of Spiders mothers death. Na’vi could not have children without being mated for life, surely the sky woman had been his mate. If a Na’vi’s mate passed on in an untimely way, they were able to choose another to mate with, any other circumstance it was not possible to mate with another. 

The pink told herself it was because she had grown fond of Miles, she did not want to see him be alone. Part of being Na’vi was mating for life once you came of age and completed your trails. He would not need complete Iknimaya as he had already claim an Ikran, with her assistance, but he would need to have a Uniltaron to be full considered a member of any Na’vi tribe. Once he completed that, maybe another Na’vi woman would learn to accept and be fascinated with his five fingered hands as she had. 

The thought of another na’vi woman mating with him made her stomach turn sour, as if she’d eaten something gone to rot. 

“We could go look for him, take the Ikrans and go,” Vira suggested, pulling herself out of her own thoughts. She gently placed her pink hand comfortingly on his large, toned bicep. 

“Naw, he chose not to come with me.” 

She removed her hand from his arm, there was a silence between them. Questions and unspoken words hung in the air. Vira felt shifted uncomfortably on the balls of her feet, both equally avoiding not looking directly at each other. The pink Na’vi wanted to ask more questions but his words had felt final, putting a hard stop to the conversation.

Miles flicked his tail against her leg. “C’mon, let’s move out Princess.”

They pressed on further away from their Hometree. The farther they ran the more obstacles they encountered and Miles seemed to be fit to conquer them all, even if his mind was far away with the boy. His boy. Vira still tried to wrap her mind around it. 

Partially to distract herself and partially to distract Miles, Vira would slow her pace sometimes to let her own tail playful smack against Miles or wiggle it just out of his grasp, in turn Miles would try to playfully grab it. Vira played often with the children of her village and those of the other clans she visited, this was a common one played across the clans, it helped teach balance and coordination in the trees. Miles even succeeded once in successfully snatching her pink tail, eliciting a playful yelp from her as she snatched it back from his large blue paws. It made the large na’vi give her a fanged, triumphant smile. She rewarded him by sticking out her tongue. 

Vira was truly impressed by how well Miles did with managing to not fall from the trees and keep his eyes fixed on her tail. It all seemed natural to him, moving swift and graceful as he always seemed to. She always found herself comparing him to the great predator palulukan, graceful, strong, and deadly. Perhaps she could convince the Anurai clan to teach him how to ride one, it is what their rite of passage was instead of claiming in Ikran.  She had a good relationship with them, it was not unfathomable that she could persuade them. In her mind's eye she could practically see the large Na’vi male astride the equally large carnivore in full na’vi dress with a spear in hand. 

As they ran, they came across a large gap in their path that made Vira skid skillfully to a stop, Miles so close he nearly bumped into her. She could feel the heat of his closeness behind her, his body barely brushing against her. The feel of pants brushing gently against her bare legs, if she leaned her head back surely it would undoubtedly rest upon his chest. 

She felt him take a step back but not before she was nearly positive he took a deep inhale. Was he scenting the air, for her? The pink Na’vi pushed the thought away, he was just filling his lungs, they had been moving quickly for some time, attempting to catch his breath.

Her orange eyes measured the great divide between the branches of the great trees, obvious that it was far too large to jump but there were many vines in between they could swing from to get across, not an easy task to master. She looked down and saw the large leaves below that would catch them if they fell and bring them safely to the forest floor. 

Without warning, Vira quickly flew across the divide, swinging skillfully from vine to vine, ending up on the other side in a pink blur. He had not cared for her instruction the last time so she decided to let Miles figure it out for himself. 

She watched Miles from the branch across the split. She watched him take a deep breath and run and jump into the vines, he held strong and true amongst them but his movements were too slow and unsure from vine to vine. Each one swayed precariously, his arms while large and strong lost more and more strength. One needed to be quick and sure on the vines. 

Vira watched him slowly skid down a vine, the horror on his face as he tried to use his legs to stop from falling as gravity worked against him, she heard him let out a yell as he fell and smacked face first into a leaf. 

The future Tsahìk of the Tayrangi Clan let out a loud laugh. For the first time, she thought Miles did something that was not graceful.

Vira jumped down from the branch she stood on and let the large leaves of the jungle gently guide her down as she softened her limbs, bringing her to him in the rainforest lower level. He was laying on his back staring up towards the branches he’d just been in, breathing heavy. 

“Are you hurt?” 

From that fall he might have been swore but she was sure he would have no serious injury. 

“No darlin’, I could hear you howling like a damn prolemuris up in the damn trees so just my pride. ” grunting as he stood, he turned to show his backside to her “and my pants.” 

His whole backside was soiled with mud and sap all the way from kuru to his bottom. A large hole was exposed from his tail down, showing his under clothes. He’d either gotten stuck on something or it was simply a mix of overwear and then the friction on the vines. Vira changed twengs frequently to help prevent overworking of the cloth. 

Vira couldn’t help herself, she covered her mouth to try and hide it but seeing the large blue Na’vi such a mess, she let out small squeaks trying to coverup. Normally he was so sure and dexterous in all he did, seeing him so out of his element made tears prick at the corner of her eyes. 

Miles looked down at her, she felt the scrutiny in his eyes. She could see the flecks of gold in his yellow eyes at first she thought him mad but he just let out a small sigh of defeat. “It's alright let it out, Tiny. Laugh it up.” 

He gave into a little laugh too, even though his pride was bruised. 

“I don’t think I can fix” gesturing to his pants between small snickers. 

“Guess it's time for you to make me some skivvies.” 

—

Quaritch hated to admit, he really did but Vira had been right about his clothing being noisy. He felt ridiculous having his ass out in the jungle but on the other hand he felt like deadly silence as he moved swiftly through the trees, raining death from above with his bow to unsuspecting Hexapede, his prey of choice. He even managed to say the prayers over the bodies when he made a kill that Vira taught him without his voice dripping in sarcasm or rolling his eyes. Vira had yet to proclaim any of his conquests yet to be what she deem a clean kill, she said she still didn't feel he meant the words and would repeat the prayer after him so earnestly it tugged at something deep in his chest. 

While he did not believe in the tree god, no matter how often she tried to demonstrate the miracles or give him proof. The pink Na’vis faith was palpable, something pure, something to be admired. A devotion he’d never seen before and couldn’t fully comprehend.  Miles did admit there was something strange in the woods, something about it all. He did feel believe in what Grace Augisitbe had said about life being connected, he'd believe that since they'd drank the nectar in the woods but a diety? He could not stand all the circle of life. tree hugging crap. It was too much, a step too far for him.

Miles had been wearing the traditional Na’vi clothing for well over a week, he still marked the days but he’d have to count the marks to have any idea how long he’s been there. Maybe 20 or 25 days if he had to throw a number off the top of his head. Vira had added a new etching of him shooting the bow from a branch. The days in the jungle seemed to blur together and he found he didn’t hate it. Just like he didn’t hate the loincloth, or Tweng as Vira called them. She’d used his shirt and pants as the base materials of the ones he wore, each mostly the soft green of his shirt with a single thick strip threaded through the hide ties down the center of camo. It was a nice touch.

Vira has apologized to him for the size of the loincloth, the tweng, she’d said it was a bit smaller than she would have liked to make but he was rather large, even for a Blue. She’d explained in a more eloquent manner that her people, the Tayrangi, tended to cover their asses a little more than the clan Sully had joined but he found himself not minding and feeling more adjusted to the clothing. Each clan had different clothing customs, some wore intricate beadwork, others made clear armors, some made entire outfits just of leaves and flowers. While Quaritch had never been one to care about clothing as a human, always choosing functionality over any kind of fashion, learning the social customs around them for the different clans was at least mildly interesting. 

When he first started wearing the tweng he had continued to wear his belt and gun holster but felt it left him unbalanced when he made his way through the trees, which is exactly what Vira had told him the first time he’d put it on. He’d worn it a few more days just to spite her but but ultimately Miles had since abandoned the RDA standard issue holster and weapons days ago, leaving them somewhere back at their tree camp. 

He’d come to value Vira’s opinion, it was hard for him not to get annoyed and be gruff towards her at times with how often she proved him wrong but he reminded himself this forest moon was her home. She’d had a lifetime of living this way. He’d only been living this way for a few weeks. Qauritch was used to being the one barking orders and teaching new recruits, he scarcely remembered being a Boot himself it was so long ago. 

The recombinant Na'vi had come to appreciate her as a teacher, overall she was patient even when he got frustrated. She’d get a little pissy if he messed up too many times on his Na’vi, saying he knew better. Most of the time she was right,  he did know better and was just screwing up to push her buttons. More days than not she spoke to him in Na'vi now, he could understand her but did not always come up with a reply in the alien language and reverted to English. Her English was more than sufficient to understand what he said and parroted most of his phrases back to him in Na'vi. There were things he knew he'd never stop saying in English, they got lost in translation like the Recom Na'vi's pet names for his pink na'vi teacher, swears, and phrases. He couldn’t help himself.

To his surprise, Vira actually enjoyed some of his more colorful language in English and adopted saying them in his native tongue rather than her own.

They were hunting hexapede today and explored the jungle through the upper branches. Miles felt as though he was starting to know this part of the jungle just as well as Hellsgate or Bridgehead city, maybe even better. In the short time they’d been staying here, he and Vira had found common hunting grounds that he knew like the back of his hand. His movement through the branches was better every day. Miles felt himself getting stronger and moving with more ease, all of it becoming second nature and natural. He still needed to master swinging on the vines but he’d improved a hell of a lot since he fell and ripped his pants. 

From behind he watched as Vira’s little lithe body moved instinctively through the branches as though she was part Prolemeris. It never failed to impress him really how easily she moved from running to jumping to swinging on the vines in fluid movements. Miles closed the distance behind the small pink form he’d playfully tug on her tail. It’d become a game they often played when he walked behind her.

Vira turned to playfully hiss at him and slapped his hands away from her tail, shushing him playfully before speeding up to avoid him being able to tug at it again, as they hit all their normally hunting spots.  When they saw no Hexapede from the branches they took to the ground to look for tracks. 

Miles was surprised when Vira ushered him ahead of her letting him take the lead, choosing to follow behind him like a silent pink shadow. Even if he couldn't see her, he could smell her scent with his sensitive Na’vi nose, that syrupy scent that was just her. Even though they bathed before a hunt he could still always smell her natural odor underneath those slightly perfumy, lavender-like herbs. With each passing day Qauritch felt he became more and more aware of the cloying odor. Sometimes Miles found himself sniffing the air, seeking the scent. He wondered how between her overwhelming smell and the pink coloring she didn't get gobbled up by something. 

Miles remembers thinking before he could track her by scent anywhere within 100 clicks with his new and improved sense of Na'vi smell but he was starting to be damn near sure he’d be able to find her anywhere on Pandora.  That smell was forever ingrained into his senses.

Sometimes he swore he sought out her scent.

They padded quietly on the lush jungle floor, he knelt to observe the freshness of the tracks when a savage yowl filled the silence of the jungle. Miles turned around to face Vira, his ears swiveled, straining to discern where the sound came from and what it was. 

“Nantang”  Vira whispered, her orange eyes lighting up as a second strangled howl echoed through the forest. Why she was so excited to see a Viperwolf he couldn't fathom. He reflexively touched the side of his face which was now absent scars he’d gotten from one of his very first day on pandora.

“Za’u”  Come. She beckoned quietly, now laying on her stomach and started doing an army-style crawl on knees and elbows, keeping her small body low to the ground through the brush and towards the animal's pained cries.

Miles shrugged and slung his bow over his shoulder and joined her in crawling through the underbelly of the jungle, the back of his mind told him this was foolish and dangerous. This was not Kansas, this was Pandora.

“Are you sure you want to go in that direction?" He couldn't help but question her judgment. "Of that thing? They're meaner than a two-headed snake.”

She whipped her pink face around, cheeks slightly puffed out in annoyance white curls flailing as she held a finger to her lips to silence him. She moved her head in a gesture that he took for him to move closer. Miles dragged himself forward so their shoulders touched as they both laid belly down in the grass. 

Vira extended a petite pink finger towards an opening in the brush. Quaritch narrowed his yellows and saw that she was pointing towards a pair of Viperwolves, a larger male standing protectively over the smaller female that lay on the ground, letting out mournful, agonizing howls.

Miles understood immediately why Vira’s orange eyes lit up like fireworks to go get a closer look at the creature. The bitch was whelping, that's what those long, mournful cries had been for. He glanced between the Viperwolf pair and Vira, he saw the large male lean down over her every so often to give his bitch supportive licks on her muzzle as she let out her howls pierce through the jungle with quickening succession. Of course Vira had wanted to see the puppies, some things didn’t change even across species Miles mused to himself. She laid beside him clasping her hands together, whispering as gently as the rustle of the wind a little prayer in Na’vi repetitively. 

“Oh great mother, please let our sisters' labor come quick and safe. Let her and her mate have many healthy pups.”

They came quickly just like she prayed for alright, before he knew it Miles had lost count of how many pups there were but he figured at least five or six. They were a lot less threatening than their parents with their bright pink ears, yet to darken as they grew and matured. 

Vira and Miles sat in silence as they watched mom and dad lick each one clean of afterbirth and a few of the pups playfully nipped at each other's long ears. Quairtch couldn’t deny they were pretty cute. His yellow eyes looked over to Vira, she rested her pink cheek against her hand, a wistful look on her face as she stared at the infant Viperwolves. 

“Gotta admit, they’re pretty cute” he half whispered half drawled but he wasn’t looking at the pups anymore, he was looking at Vira. “For being little shits.” 

He ever so slightly stuck his tongue at her. 

That pulled her from her dreamy gazing and she lightly batted at his shoulder, not wanting to attract the attention of the proud parents.

 “You're the shit.” she whispered back to him with a big smile on her face. 

Miles let out a quiet laugh at his foul language rubbing off on the pink Na’vi. He clutched his chest over his heart in mock pain.

“You wound me, princess, here I thought we were sweet on me.” 

Her face flushed and she gave him a playful shove but didn't say anything, starting to creep backward from the pair of Viperwolves and their little brood back towards the game trail. 

Miles sat there for a moment, was he really flirting with the little pink Na’vi? 

He then gave a small sniff to the air out of instinct as she backed slowly away from him.

Not for the first time Miles thought to himself, what the hell was he doing? 

--

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Master List

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.

KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER

A 500 FOLLOWERS SERIES!

❥SYNOPSIS: as the years went by, bakugo realized that he was the last to get married. the days grew cold and the nights turned lonely. bakugo want's to marry, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. at least he has his trustee secretary!

CHAPTERS: 0—1—2

❥ WARNINGS: implied fem reader, aged-up!, Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥ MASTERLIST

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WORDS: 6.7K

CHAPTER 1: THE SIMPLETON; YOU.

"accept calls from strangers."

You are a hard-working citizen, you are straightforward, diligent, focused, and most of all. You don’t take anyone’s shit.

Since a young age, you harbored grand aspirations of collaborating with the renowned hero Dynamight. Even during your high school years, witnessing the fledgling hero proclaims his ambition to become the top hero to millions of viewers on live national television deeply resonated with you.

He was a hero you admired deeply, whether that was in combat or in any other position.

Driven by an intense desire to be in close proximity to the fiery and passionate hero, you applied yourself with unwavering diligence. Night after night, you immersed yourself in rigorous study, methodically reviewing each cue card until the ink was exhausted and the pencils were rendered brittle from the forceful strokes onto your notebook.

Before you knew it, you graduated college majoring in hero analysis with a minor in communications.

the first few years after college were hard, without any significant connections, you had little to no experience beforehand to get any major positions in well-affiliated agencies.

Pizza for breakfast and granola bars for dinner, staying up for days and sleeping fewer nights. Going to countless amounts of intervals, passing trial after trial.

yet denied, denied, denied.

you began to lose hope, you felt that all the hard work you did was for nothing. You were fearful of the eventual future set in place for you. A dead-end office job at some random corporate office that could barely pay the bills, "comfortable" housing, and an urge to die because you never lived up to your expectations.

On a rain-soaked day in Japan, a biting chill permeated the air as the relentless downpour battered your umbrella, the droplets cascading off its surface with effortless ease. As you made your way from yet another failed interview, the weight of repeated rejection hung heavily upon you.

This time, however, you didn't feel particularly upset about it. The hero's demands were simply unreasonable, and you had no intention of acquiescing to such outlandish requests. After all, the hero's accomplishments were hardly noteworthy and their reputation was far from impressive. Barely reaching the top 100 rated heroes in Japan, he wasn’t worth any second of your time.

With a resigned sigh, you trudged out into the bustling streets of Japan, surveying the sea of faces before you with a critical eye. Among the throngs of people passing by, you observed carefree children strolling hand in hand with their parents, and trendy teens sporting high-waisted shorts and fishnet stockings, flaunting their disregard for the curfew that surely awaited them.

The distinction between the two groups of people made you notice something, you either abide by the rules or defied them. So then what were you?

You were the simpleton of course, sadly...

Like so many others trudging along these rain-soaked streets, you found yourself caught up in the unrelenting hustle to secure a job that would never truly fulfill you. Your expression was weighed down by the burden of this unending search, with a heavy heart and a growl in your stomach. you absentmindedly made your way into a nearby ramen shop.

the chill of the rain subsides to the warm embrace of the restaurant. Bustling voices of citizens and the loud clanks of kitchenware. you were greeted by the workers and you bowed.

setting your things down at an absent table, you look over to the ordering tablet. clicking a couple of buttons, you ordered your meal. Before you could sulk in your seat, your phone buzzes.

Jolting in surprise, you pick up the phone to read the contact name:

UA WORKFORCE CORP.

Your eyes lit up with unbridled joy and a rush of adrenaline surged through your body. The reason for this sudden surge of excitement was none other than the prospect of being selected as a trainee with UA Corporations, whether it be through the prestigious school or one of the legendary hero agencies affiliated with it. It all began last year when you submitted your application, and the possibility of this dream finally becoming a reality now had you feeling electrified.

Around a couple of months, you've passed through multiple rounds of other people who have applied for the position. Interview after interview, test after test, you knew that if you got the job you'd be on the track that led you to your dream.

"hello!" you said excitedly.

"yes, hello, is this l/n y/n?" a woman says on the other end of the line. You quickly confirm your identity with the woman. "hello there, I'm here to give you acknowledgment of the results of the final round pick for the UA CORP. affiliates position." the woman's voice rang through your phone, heart beating fast...breath staggered your reply.

"y-yes?" you stuttered.

"Yes, l/n, I'm sorry to inform you--"

[CALL ENDED]

With a swift press of a button, you ended the call, tears streaming down your face as you lowered your head to the table. Your body was wracked with sobs, each tear that fell causing your breath to catch in your throat.

why are you not good enough?

As the weight of reality bore down on you, your tears flowed even harder, your throat constricting as you tried to swallow. Was all your hard work for so reason? Are your dreams non-attainable? Is this just not the past you're destined to take?

After a moment, you sat back up in your seat, heedless of the tears and makeup staining your white button-down shirt. With red-rimmed eyes, you reached for your phone and began to scroll through Google, determined to find some sort of solution to the crushing blow you had just been dealt.

'office jobs near me.'

biting your lip, you try and stop your lip from quivering. you felt as if you were destined for despair since you were a child.

Like so many others, you too idolized heroes when you were a child, running around your house with makeshift masks and capes that resembled the same heroes you watched on TV. Full of youthful hope and possessing a fairly decent quirk, you dreamed of one day joining the ranks of these legendary figures.

Fast forward a few years, and you found yourself in middle school. After a long day of classes, you trudged your way back home, collapsed onto your bed, and drifted off into a deep sleep, ready to take on whatever the next day had in store for you.

but the only thing is, you didn't wake up.

you didn't wake up for another three days to be exact. when you finally awoke in the hospital, your parent broke the news to you. You seemed to catch a very rare parasite, this parasite can leave the host sickly with fever, very drowsy, and worst of all...

quirkless.

The following week at school, you shared the news with your classmates: you were essentially quirkless now. But instead of receiving words of encouragement and hope, you found yourself labeled an outcast by everyone around you.

"the girl who lived, but at the cost of her quirk."

Years later, the news still shook you to your core, and you couldn't help but feel stunned. present day, you've noticed that you could still use your quirk from time to time. around 10 times a year, your quirk would come and go in little spurts. but as time grew long, you became accustomed to not using it for a long time, so you never did.

so now here you were, alone, quirkless, and a soon to be slave to the corporate world.

cheeks stained with mascara, eyes red, and head pounding, you look over to the ordering tray, sliding out the hot ramen ready to be consumed.

"at least this ramen can make me feel better," you mumbled to yourself. Taking the large bowl from the tray, you set it out on the table and began to dig in.

As you eat, you begin to scroll ok your phone looking for regular office jobs…

Manager at printing company? No.

Office associates needed at tech company? No.

Receptionist at steel company? No way.

Senior communications analyst? What?

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Deny, deny, deny!

This can’t be your reality right? How are you going to break this down to your parents?

Deep in thought, you didn’t even realize that someone slid in your booth. Tapping away on your phone, you open your messages.

Group chat: Mom & Dad

you: hanging in there! So close!

letting out a sigh, you open the camera app. Looking at the screen you see yourself, torn up from the floor up. Eyes a faint pink contrasting from the red they were a few moments beforehand. Pressing your lips together into a line, you quickly tap your screen to flip your camera.

Flipping your camera, you stare at the screen. A man appears on the other side, as he looks at the camera in embarrassment.

Eyes widening you gasp, “Excuse me, but there’s other seats around,” you try to sound as nice as possible, but why should you be nice if today hasn’t been so nice to you back?

The man was covered in black from head to toe, black hood on tight, as he looks at you. Black-shaded glasses and a matching face mask on him.

“Um, can I sit with you please?” He says.

Rolling your eyes, you become irritated, “no. now if you can please move–“

“Please, I can’t sit alone, people will notice me!” He whispers, body leaning in towards you, jolting backward, you frown in confusion.

“What?” You say, tone cold and filled with irritancy.

“Um…listen this is the only time I’ve got to myself, and I love this place! And if people see me alone then they’ll notice me, so can I just please sit with you?”

Blinking rapidly, you grew quiet.

Looking around, you see no one looking toward you or the mysterious man ahead of you. Looking back, you then sink into your seat. Grabbing your face with your hands, you soon let out a deep sigh.

“Sure, fuck it, go ahead, this day can’t possibly get any worse!” You laugh to yourself. This makes the man’s head tilt.

“May I ask why your day is bad?” He says. Removing your hands from your face you give him a deadpan look. Licking your lips you sit up from your chair and grab your utensils.

Stirring your noodles around you let out a dry chuckle, “Let’s just say things never go the way I want them to—and there’s also a random man in front of my face when I could really like being alone at the moment…the small things.”

You say, sarcasm drenched with every word you spoke. This makes the man laugh, “Sorry your day has been shit.”

Leaning into his seat, you crossed his arms. “Maybe I can make your day better? Go ahead, have at me,” the man says.

Letting out an irritated sigh, you confess.

“The only thing that can make me happy at the moment, is if you can somehow give me a job at UA Corp.”

You chuckle, the utter impossibility of what you just said made it humorous. “Really?” The man says. “Really,” you replied back.

“I think I can do that,” he says, his tone relaxed and suave—he sounds as if he can in fact…do that.

“As if,” you snort.

“You wanna make it a bet?” He says, his tone was playful and a tad bit flirtatious. “I can get you to work for the top pro-hero’s in the country, all I need to do is make the call.” He says as every word falls off his tongue with no effort.

This peaks your interests.

“You don’t say?” you reply back.

“Who do you want to work for sweetheart? Just give me any name.” He says.

“Okay…Dynamight, I—I want to become a secretary! That’s the position!” You say, your tone desperate and hopeful.

The man smirks behind his mask, “Okay.” Pulling out his phone, he hands it to you. “Give me your number, you’ll be getting a call soon.” He says, biting your lip you grab the phone and do as he says.

You're well aware of the dangers of blindly accepting what strangers say; it's like common sense 101. And yet, here you are, drawn towards a man who's covered in black from head to toe. It's not the smartest move, but there's just something about him that makes you want to place your faith in him. You can't quite put your finger on it - maybe it's the intensity of his gaze, or the air of mystery surrounding him - but you can't help but feel a strange attraction towards him. It's a risky move, but sometimes you just have to trust your gut, even if it defies all reason.

“Do you promise?” You spoke softly, this earns a chuckle out of the man, “Of course! You’re making a deal with a god—not a devil.”

As you gaze into the stranger's dark eyes, you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. There's something about him that doesn't sit right, and whatever god he may or may not represent, he's not exactly acting like one. But despite your reservations, you continue to chat with him, and as the conversation flows, you begin to let your guard down. Eventually, you find yourself sinking back into your seat, pouting slightly as you polish off the rest of your meal. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's just something about this mysterious man that's drawing you in, despite all the warning signs.

You're not quite sure how to process the choices you've made, given how impulsive they were. It's not exactly the wisest decision to act on a whim fueled by intense emotions, but you simply didn't give a damn. Life's been pretty rough lately, and if things are already this bad, then why not make them even worse? That seems to be your thought process, as you ride the waves of your tumultuous feelings, consequences be damned.

throwing your utensils into the empty bowl, you gather your things and shuffle out of the booth. Standing before the mysterious man, you frown. "are you going to eat anything?" you ask.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna eat somewhere else...you've made me have a taste for something else." Soon, the man jumps out of his seat and walks away, brushing past your shoulder with ease.

Astonished, you look back and watch the man leave out the restaurant in a hurry.

What just happened?

for the rest of the day, you carried yourself through your regular routine. eat, think, cry, repeat. As day turned to noon, and noon falls tonight...you grew anxious for a reply from the mysterious man you met earlier today. Heart pounding and blood running cold you sit in your apartment kitchen, your phone a couple of feet away from you on the kitchen counter. As you were sitting on the other side, the wooden chair creaked with every movement you made.

You didn't know what to think of the situation before you, looking around the apartment, the shadows grew as you fell deeper into the times of night. Looking at the clock, it read 10:39pm.

Letting out a sigh, you rise from your seat and grab your phone. you head into your bedroom, crashing onto your bed (that could be softer) you lay and stare at the ceiling.

"Is this my life now?" you questioned yourself.

You purse your lips and shut your eyes tight, hoping to drift off into slumber and escape the terrible day that's left you feeling like crap. Sleep seems like the perfect distraction - a chance to shut out the world and forget all the stress and negativity that's been weighing you down. With a deep breath, you try to clear your mind and let yourself sink into the warm embrace of sleep, hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

the sounds of your phone sound an alarm through your body, shooting up from your bed you scramble to your phone. breath staggered and heart pounding, you reach for your phone and read the contact number.

ANONONYMUS CALLER

eyeing the phone more, you read the time. 5:57am? It's way too early to be answering calls...but you knew this call could be important. Taking in a deep breath, you answer the phone.

"h-hello?" you say, you breathed hard onto the other end. Anticipating the voice on the other end of the phone. A moment has passed by, the phone still attached to your ear, you sit on your bed waiting for someone to speak.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" you ask again, you hear nothing but static on the other end. Swallowing your spit, you curse and begin to end the call.

"l/n, isn't it?" a familiar voice rang out, eyes widening you press your ear back onto the phone. "yes! This is she!" you softly exclaimed.

"you've got the job, I'm sending you the location of where you need to be...meet me there at 8:30am sharp not a minute before, not a minute after. Do you understand me?" the voice rang cold, monotone, and raspy.

your heart was jumping out of your skeleton at this point, unable to refuse, you complied. "Okay! Thank you again, for helping me...whoever you are," you say.

"Don't mention it, you'll know who I am, and soon everything will fall into place," maybe you were hearing things, but you could hear a twinge of humor in his tone.

before you could reply, the phone disconnected from the call. you couldn't believe it. "I'm working for Dynamight?" you say aloud, in disbelief. A smile etched onto your face, but you soon wiped it off.

Standing from your bed, you began to pace. "let's not celebrate now y/n, there are still many factors that need to be noticed..."

factors which are:

where is this location?

this could be a trafficking scam

you could be dead in a couple of hours

but what if it was real?

The power of belief was astounding - it seemed that the mere possibility of something being real outweighed all other considerations tenfold. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you prepared to head to the location, eagerly zooming around your room to fix your hair and makeup. You even practiced your best customer service voice, running through lines and mentally rehearsing how you would handle different scenarios. All that mattered was making a good impression, and the prospect of the unknown made your heart race with anticipation.

"How can I help you Mr. Dynamight?" "Your meeting is scheduled at this time Mr. Dynamight" "Would you like any coffee Mr. Dynamight?" you in your sweetest voice possible. Giggling in excitement you reach for the bottom drawer of your dresser.

Pulling the drawer, you smile with excitement. "The time has come, you're finally getting what you deserve." Looking down at the clothes before you, you planned on wearing this outfit for the first day on the job.

You expected to find your outfit covered in cobwebs when you pulled it out of the drawer, but to your surprise, it was in impeccable condition. Not a single wrinkle marred the pristine fabric, and there wasn't a single stain to be found. You had ironed and steamed everything to perfection, determined to look your absolute best. Your outfit was the epitome of sophistication - a classic white button-down paired with sleek black work pants and matching heels. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you admired yourself in the mirror, ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead.

throwing your clothes on, you read the clock, 7:51am. eyes widening, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before grabbing your things and rushing out the door.

flagging down a taxi, you hurriedly give the driver the location. your heart leaped from your chest once more when you read the location details on the screen.

DYNAMIGHT RIOT HERO AGENCY ©

this is seriously happening? you thought to yourself.

"you work there ma'am?" the taxi driver asks. a new rush of pride washes over you, "yes, I do...it's my first day." you say, a shy smile paints over your face. "congrats, I heard it's not so easy getting a job at places like that, my niece tried to work there but got denied after 2 years of interviews."

"wow," was the only word that could come out of your lips.

"how'd you get in? connections?" he pries. "um...you could say that, but I think I got here out of pure luck, you wouldn't believe it." You chuckle, the man smacks his lips at your reply, obviously upset at your success. Forming your mouth into an "oh," you sit back in your seat and look away from the man.

The silence between you and the man lingered awkwardly for what felt like an eternity, as the taxi sped on for the next 20 minutes. You were relieved to finally see the agency's headquarters looming up ahead, massive in size and bold in color. The building stood tall, almost like a skyscraper, with bright hues of red and orange radiating from its walls. Your eyes widened in amazement as you watched countless people streaming in and out of the entrance, going about their day-to-day business. As the taxi slowed to a stop, the driver tried to navigate his way toward the front of the building, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nervousness at what lay ahead.

"thank you!" before the taxi could even stop, you jump out of the vehicle. Throwing your total amount for the ride into the car, you slam the door and rush towards the building. Clutching your briefcase tight, you swallow the lump in your throat.

Before stepping forward, you feel your phone vibrate. It's another text from the man you met yesterday.

ANONYMOUS:

walk into the building and head straight into the right elevator by the bathroom, when you get in go to the 21st floor.

when you get there, there will be a front desk. ask for red. tell them your name, and they'll know who you are.

a lady will lead you into a room, wait there until further notice.

"here goes nothing," putting the phone away you do as you were told and walk into the building. you were absolutely astonished by the size of the first floor, to the point where you became overwhelmed. businessmen and woman hustling to their destination, mascots dancing to the faint music, trying to stay on the beat but the sound of children screaming in amusement drown out the tempo. tour guides leading the way for curious visitors.

this place was a workplace war zone...

letting your heels carry you away, you head towards said elevators. you waited patiently in line to enter the elevator. looking at the elevators, you look at the vinyl art on it. It's a picture of Dynamight and his partner Red Riot, fists in the air and victorious smiles shining bright you read the quote on the elevator.

"work hard, grab victory by the throat, and win!"

very Dynamight coded, you'll say.

packing into the elevator like sardines, you notice there's an assistant there who presses the buttons. Do they seriously need a position like that here? "Floor 21 please!" you yell out. You notice the multiple workers give you an unreadable look, frowning you hang your head low in embarrassment.

after a good 3 minutes of waiting your turn, you finally reach your designated floor. squishing past the still rather large group of people, you take in a deep breath of fresh air. Holding your briefcase tight, you look back and thank the assistant.

"good luck, you'll need it," the assistant and everyone else in the elevator starts to burst into a fit of laughter. confused, you were about to ask why but the elevator quickly closed. adjusting your uniform, you bite the inside of your cheek.

"don't let them get to you y/n, this is your dream," you reassure yourself, stepping towards the front desk. you see a lady, her mid-forties at least. typing rapidly at her computer. "Excuse me, ma'am," you say softly, you watch as the lady's typing comes to a swift halt.

"yes?" she says, rather rudely, still looking at her computer.

blinking, a little bit held back from shock "Hi, I'm here to see Red? I-I'm l/n y/n." the lady soon lets out a chuckle, turning away from you, she opens up a drawer and pulls out a paper. pulling at the paper, she grabs a pen and writes your name down and hands you a name tag sticker.

As you examined the sticker more closely, you couldn't help but cringe at its childish design. Tiny caricatures of pro-heroes adorned the borders of the "Hi, my name is!" label, and you felt a pang of embarrassment as you peeled it off and quickly slapped it onto the left side of your chest, right over your heart. It was a small gesture, but it hurt your pride to have to wear something so unprofessional.

"Please walk into that room over there...and also, word of advice, you should start wearing all black," the lady smirks, taking her hands and running them down her body. showing you that she is in fact, wearing all black.

looking down at your white shirt, you face heats up from your embarrassment. "may I ask why?" you say. The lady continues to do her work, not even giving you a look of acknowledgement.

nodding, you give a polite bow and head into the waiting room. As you walk into the room, you're filled with shock. the room was quite large...but there was only one seat? Deadpan in the middle of the room, the metal chair sits unharmed. you laugh out of nervousness, the sight of the chair makes the embarrassment you felt merely seconds ago wash away.

walking to the seat, you sit and patiently wait. The sound of the fluorescent lights buzzing, at the white noise, fills your eardrums. you quietly tapped your fingertips against your briefcase to the imaginary beat in your head. looking around, all you see is the grey carpeting and white walls, and the tv straight ahead of you.

you waited for a good 30 minutes in silence, distracting yourself on your phone as you waited, and waited, and waited. You constantly kept checking your messages, hoping for another anonymous message. but was left with a dry phone.

letting out a sigh, you frown. "is this some joke?" looking around the room, you spot a security camera behind you in the corner of the room. it's blinking red light flashing into your eyes, turning around you ponder to yourself.

"This must be a joke, that's why everyone has been laughing at me this whole time. I should've never come here," defeated, you began to gather your things. As you stood up to head for the door, the lights soon cut off. you let out a yelp, hands extending out towards the chair, and you sit back down.

the tv you saw soon cuts on, a bright white screen shines and takes over the whole room.

"WELCOME L/N Y/N!" the screen says blankly, the text blinking on and off, if this was supposed to invoke excitement, it's doing the bare minimum. you stare at the screen and wait for anything else, but the screen soon goes black. another minute in the dark passes by as you sit in your seat absolutely dumbfounded.

the screen turns on again, this time there's faint music sounding from it. soon you see a random person on the screen, probably a paid actor. "hello there fellow newbie! Welcome to Dynamight Riot Hero's Headquarters! Today, I'll be with you along the ride as we both become secretaries!" the actress, obviously way too happy to be here inquiries.

after watching the 10-minute-long do's and don't's video, the screen blinks to white again. squinting your eyes at the right light, the black sans serif font shows on the screen again.

KEY REMINDERS:

DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE A SECRETARY!

BE A GOOD WORKER!

ALWAYS BE ON TIME!

AND MOST OF ALL: WORD HARD!!

soon after the screen, turns off. a couple of seconds do by and the room lights flash back on, covering your eyes so that you don't get flash-banged for the fifteenth time. eyes still covered, you hear a door open and footsteps walk towards you.

uncovering your eyes, you look towards the floor to adjust to the bright white lighting. "so sorry, just give me a second!" you nervously chuckle. "don't worry, take your time!" the voice says politely.

wait, that voice.

it's the man you saw yesterday. your hand soon uncovers your eyes and you look up. "it's you-" eyes shooting wide, your hand flings to your mouth.

Red Riot?

"ah, guilty as charged! Happy to see me and not some creep aren't ya? You really need to have a better guard, I could've just been anybody!" he laughs.

a frown soon comes towards your face, "so you were the guy at the ramen restaurant? Why the hell was you there?" you growl. The pro-hero frowns playfully at your attitude.

"tone, little miss. that isn't a way to talk to your new boss. you know I thought we let in a complete stranger, you look so different when your face isn't soaked with tears and runny mascara." he jabs at you with a mischievous grin.

"What? Boss? Dynamight's my boss!" you argue. Red Riot rolls his eyes at your words, "Last time I checked my name is out on that building and in that shitty little video you just watched. and you're gonna wish you worked for me and instead of him by the time this day goes by."

your frown never left your lips, "can we start now?" you say.

"Sure! right this way!" he says, walking away from you, you hurriedly grab your bags and walk alongside him. before you could reach the door. the hero turns and blocks your way from seeing the other side.

"Also, um...wear all black next time." he says, his eyes travel down your figure, and you bite your lips in embarrassment. "why?" you ask. "Because it is a thing we do here, we want everyone to be seen as equals to us, we are all people here at the end of the day, hence we all wear the same thing. Plus, it's because we say so and it looks cool." he chuckles to himself at his last words, turning around he walks away.

As you walked into the office setting, you couldn't help but feel a sense of shock and disbelief. Everywhere you looked, it seemed like the people around you were robots going about their tasks with mechanical precision. Everyone wore the same drab black outfits, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was some kind of strange joke.

The more you walked, you could feel the eyes of the other employees snapping toward you, their stifled chuckles and whispers following you with every step. It was as if they were all in on some kind of inside joke, and you couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this strange, black-button-down world.

As Red Riot led you around the office, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over you. Here you were, walking alongside one of the most legendary heroes of all time. It was hard to believe that this was actually happening - that you were standing in the same room as Red Riot himself. Despite your nerves, you couldn't stop smiling as you walked, eagerly listening to every word that he had to say. It was as if you were soaking up every moment of this incredible experience, committing it all to memory so that you could remember it forever. As you continued to explore the office, you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget.

"And here's our final stop! The boss's office, the one and only Dynamight's quarters" he says. "you'll be in and out of here often, so get ready for that," he chuckles. you quickly nod at his words, "before I let you in this room, do you have any questions?" he asks.

you shake your head no, licking your lips you look forward at the doors. The golden plate shined brightly as it read his name:

PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT: かつき ばくご

"Alright then!" soon, the hero bangs on the door. "see you around, fresh meat! by the way, cute sticker" he laughs, walking away from you. You were left standing in shock, did he just leave you here all alone?

"Come in," you hear a voice say. eyes snapping towards the door. You let out a shaky breath. Grabbing the door handle you slowly twist. "don't be a pussy y/n, you wanted this!" you whisper to yourself. Pushing the door open, words couldn't express the emotions you felt at this moment. Looking at your one and only inspiration in front of you, in all his glory.

Dynamight!

The sun was rising outside, casting a golden light over the room and illuminating the blond hair of the number one hero. As he looked into your eyes, you couldn't help but notice the way that his amber irises seemed to glow in the light. It was as if he was lit from within, radiating power and confidence. You took a quick glance at his attire and noticed that he was wearing a simple black shirt and matching sweatpants. It wasn't exactly business casual, but who were you to judge? This man was the number one hero, after all. He could walk in wearing a clown suit and you wouldn't bat an eyelash.

"You're the new hire? Right?" he says, his voice deep and captivating, way calmer than what you've seen on tv as it is early in the morning. You nod your head, the hero guides his hand towards the open seat in front of his desk, you follow and sit in the comfortable leather chair.

"Yes, my name is L/n Y/n!" you spoke softly, "I know." He spits back, you blame it on the early mornings. "Here are some ground rules we need to set in place, firstly..."

As he continued to speak, you found yourself hanging on his every word, completely swept up in his presence. It was almost surreal to be sitting across from the pro-hero, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and disbelief. You quickly pinched your thigh, just to make sure you weren't dreaming.

As you looked at Dynamight, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Seeing him in person was a completely different experience altogether - and you couldn't help but think that he was even more attractive up close. Maybe it was the fact that he was being so soft-spoken with you at the moment. How many people had actually seen him like this before? You couldn't help but wonder if this was a rare occurrence, and you silently thanked the heavens and the stars above that you were one of the few lucky ones to witness it.

The way his muscles flex as he holds your résumé–

Wait, how did he get your résumé?

“Excuse me?” You chime in, the pro-hero hangs his head low for a moment. Lifting his head up, he lets out a sigh, “I don’t like to be interrupted…l/n” he says. “I’m sorry I just have a question,” you state.

“Shoot,” he says, sarcasm oozing from his tone.

“How exactly did you get my résumé?” You asked, “What? Did you think we weren’t going to do a background check on you? You could be some psychotic fan for all I fuckin’ know,” he says, the morning rasp in his tone sends you ablaze as heat rises to your face.

“Oh! Right, well I’m not so,” you awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah I know, you’ve gotta…pretty good lookin’ résumé here,” the hero flips through a couple of pages, confirming his words.

You couldn’t believe it, the Dynamight called you qualified for the job! “Thank you so much! It means a lot to me that–“

“Okay listen, l/n, it’s early in the morning, and me and my partner just came back abroad from a goddamn mission. So imagine how I feel sitting here at this desk talkin’ to you and filling out these papers instead of in my bed sound a fuckin’ sleep. I’m gonna need you to tone it down alright?” He says, his tone raises as he grows irritated at your chipper attitude.

Blinking you bow in your seat, “I’m sorry Mr. Dynamight!” You spoke softly. “Don’t call me that, please just…don’t.” The hero rises from his seat and walks towards the door, you quickly stand up and follow suit.

“What should I call you then?” You spoke, his back facing towards you, the man let out a deep sigh, his palm cradling his neck. Rubbing the sensitive spot as he quietly hisses in pain.

“Just call me Dynamight, I don’t need people to go around calling you a lost puppy looking for their owner with the damn honorifics,” he says.

A brief moment of silence enveloped the large office, as the sound of the ticking clock grew increasingly louder with each passing second. Suddenly, Dynamight broke the stillness with a deep, audible sigh, turning to face you with a look of slight exasperation on his face. It was clear that he had a lot on his mind and a lot to worry about. And it seems like you're not making it any easier.

“When you came up here to this room, I hope you noticed why everyone was laughing at you. I want you to take what you went through into deep analysis…l/n.” He says, his tone sharp and crude as his eyes bore into your being.

“Why’d you sit in that waiting room with only one fuckin’ chair? Eh?” He says, a hint of humor in his tone. Your frown at him, looking down you try to really think back as to what happened.

“I’m sorry, Dynamight—I’m not sure.” You spoke, this makes the hero frown. “The reason why—is because every Secretary that has worked for me has quit.”

oh.

Swallowing your spit, you nod understanding the real reasoning behind the dirty looks and laughs. “Every single secretary that has been under me quits in no less than three months has quit, you wanna know why? Because of me.” He says as a sinister smile tugs at his lips, almost as if he’s proud of it.

“Well…how do you know that I’m not different?” You mumbled. The hero lets out a chuckle, because—I got a feeling you won’t last a month. You can prance around here with your happy attitude and white button-down, but I and you both know that you’re supposed to wear black.”

Why the hell does wearing black matter so much here?!

“So you’ve already defied me once, you get three strikes, no if, and's, or but's about it. And we both know what happens when you get to strike three,” he says smugly. “Don’t we?” He asks.

“Yes…Dynamight, we do.”

You couldn't deny the fact that you were a little bit scared about what the future held for you here. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you walked through the office. You were determined to make the best of this opportunity, even if it meant dealing with a difficult boss or two. After all, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way, as long as it meant being able to take this incredible opportunity.

“Good,” he says, his smile drops and he soon opens the door, letting it slam onto the wall. This makes you jump, you quickly gather your things and foll

behind.

You watch as all the employees ride from their seats and greet the hero. But he doesn’t give as much as a mumble back in reply.

“You’re going to be following me around for the day, can you do that task?” He asks, you nod and speak, “Yes, Dynamight I can.”

You were happy to be alongside the hero, he was your inspiration, your happiness, your sadness, but little did you know from now on.

You’d hate his guts.

HEY GUYS! Honestly did not expect for this to blow up, thanks so much for the kind words! ALREADY CLOSE TO 600 FOLLOWERS? It’s literally been two days you guys are crazy!! I wanted to make sure that I got this done by today, even though this literally took me forever to complete.

I have so much on the way, trying out a different format for my theme. Hope you guys take notice in it. Till then!

— 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 ❤︎︎

❥ : @skeletonblush @smolbeanzzz @gold24fish @stablecreator93 @itgetzweird08 @xo-evangeline @akqsa-xxi @gaby-11 @suchagoodgirlxoxo @r-ans @hunny-hotline @superkittywonderland @jolynegf @sad0nion @nar00 @gingerbread-ginza @noxva08 @xaslieex

What to Expect

synopsis: "Exes can have a baby, right?", a story in which Jake finds himself having a baby with the one person who can't even stand the sight of him. Slow burn, exes to lovers.

warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, cursing, smut, mentions of infidelity, fighting, blood, broken hurts, trust issues

prologue

chapter 1

Chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

EXTRAS:

coming soon. . .

talk with my hands, maybe take it real slow (jake seresin x fem!reader)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: Jake's roommate has a new tattoo and can't stop itching at it...what kind of friend would he be, if he didn't help distract her?

Warnings: this fic is 18+, minors please DNI – we go pretty quickly into smut, featuring the usual--explicit oral sex (both receiving, bc we're feminists like that), and then also PiV sex, including but not limited to, condescension, overstimulation (bc what's the point of fiction if we're not wringing multiple orgasms out of our self insert?) and creampies (do not have unprotected, unnegotiated sex pls)

Length: 7.8k

A/N: sorry about the moodboard being lacluster; I couldn't find a tattoo pic that wasn't on a size 0 thigh or white, so we went without

You hadn’t considered yourself to be a person with particularly awful self control, but then again, you’d never had a tattoo healing on your inner thigh, driving you mad with the need to scratch at it. It’d been 3 weeks since the appointment and your ink was probably 95% healed; the redness had faded entirely and a couple raised patches of roughness were all you had to show for the fact that it was new. Which somehow made the incessant need to itch all the more frustrating, because you were pretty sure it was mostly phantom at this point. 

“Listen, honey, you gotta chill.” Jake’s voice interrupted your inner monologue, from his seat on the couch across the living room. 

Your roommate had started in hard on the Southern pet names when he’d seen that they’d flustered you. Honestly, there was precious little the man wouldn’t do, if it meant making you unnerved. You two didn’t have what you’d call a friendship, but the playful Something between the two of you felt safe and fun. Even if it did mean that Jake seemed to take a little more pleasure than he should’ve, in the face of your pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you replied drily, “are the literal thousands of abrasions on my skin irritating you?”

Jake rolled his eyes at your melodrama. “I can feel you thinking from over here, and it’s taking up real estate that belongs to Maya Hawke,” he gestured to the TV where the latest season of Stranger Things was playing.  

“It itches,” you mumbled, hearing the complaint in your voice and knowing it was pathetic, but too over it to care. 

Jake cut you a long look, like he also heard it, and was embarrassed for you. “Want me to get you some ice?” he asked, and it was sweet of him to offer, but…

“We’re out of ice,” you sighed. “I went through the last two trays in, like, record time, and they’re refreezing now.”

“We have like fourteen trays,” Jake frowned.

“Yeah, well someone,” you paused meaningfully, “drastically depleted our resources when he decided to have a bourbon tasting over the weekend.”

Jake had the grace to look guilty for a  moment. Then it was his turn to sigh dramatically, lifting his arm to the back of the couch and swatting at the cushion next to him. “Alright, kid, c’mere.”

In retrospect, you probably should’ve asked why, or at least deliberated for half a second before doing what he asked. In reality, you pushed off the settee you’d been lounging on, and flopped ungracefully onto the couch next to Jake. You shared a bathroom with the man and he’d seen you on the second day of your period; dignity was a distant memory. 

Still, it didn’t prepare you for Jake pulling your legs apart with one of his large hands, and spreading his fingers over your tattoo, all while calmly turning up the volume of the TV with the remote in his other hand. 

“Jesus, Jake,” you choked out, telling yourself the goosebumps erupting over your whole body were entirely because of your surprise, and not any other reason. “Buy a girl a drink first.”

Jake chuckled, somehow managing to shake his head at you while not looking away from the TV. “You’re the one who’s always telling me my hands are cold as ice.”

Had you said that?

It sounded like something you’d say.

But Jake’s hand on your leg felt anything but cold. Okay, no, if you separated your brain from—well, from anything—you could recognize that his fingers were quite cold, and it was incredibly soothing having them over you. His thumb was brushing lightly over your skin, while the rest of his hand stayed still, and you knew that ice cubes couldn’t do that, but damn, it would’ve been great if they could. You settled back into the couch, relaxing into the soft material and the relief brought by Jake’s hands.

It was a wonderful two minutes. 

Good to know that that was how long it took for the fourth law of thermodynamics to kick in, and for Jake’s fingers to warm up after extended contact with your skin.  

Then a new problem was presented—you couldn’t scratch at yourself without scratching him. You shifted slightly, to see if you could get any type of friction, but Jake’s touch was light enough that he moved with you. You snuck a glance at Jake’s profile, still fixed on the TV screen, and his expression could best be described as incredibly pleased with himself.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” you muttered accusingly.  

“Absolutely,” he said, smugly. “You could fidget up a storm over there, but here you have to just deal with it.”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from sticking your tongue out at him petulantly. You folded your hands in your lap, determined to ignore the rising propensity to scratch at yourself. At some point, you’d sunken into the couch until your shoulder was pressed against Jake’s arm, and you shifted so your cheek was resting against him too. His tshirt was soft, and he smelled clean, like a freaking linen candle, which was annoying, because it didn’t help clear the riotous tangle of thoughts rushing through your head.

You did stop fidgeting, though.

“Atta girl,” Jake said quietly, his thumb still moving over your thigh.

Was it hot in here?

It had to be hot in here.

Because this was Jake, your roommate, who’d never shown an ounce of interest in you, being calm as anything with his hand literally on your thigh, and saying things that would’ve sounded like come ons from anyone else.

You tried to focus on the TV, and whatever ridiculous shenanigans the children on it had found themselves in, pulling a deep breath through your nose.

(Immediate mistake, because of said linen candle bullshit). 

On the TV, Nancy’s hair got frizzier, Steve’s life got shittier, and all the while your leg was getting itchier and itchier.

You reached to press a hand over the skin distractedly, forgetting momentarily that Jake’s hand was there until you encountered his fingers instead of your skin. He turned his hand over, his knuckles pressing against your skin while his fingers intercepted your own.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice lightly mocking, and you wrinkled your nose. It wasn’t fair that he wasn’t affected, his hands so close to your burning skin, and he still had the wherewithal to tease you for your poor impulse control.

“Jake,” you whined, trying to untangle your fingers, but his grip was unrelenting, “I’m not gonna scratch, okay, I just need to do something.”

He looked down at you, which you had to admit, was a hell of an experience when your head was practically on his shoulder. 

He blinked slowly, looking at you closely before he opened his hands, letting your fingers go. You pulled your hand back, eyes closing in relief when you pressed them against your skin. It wasn’t as good as scratching, but the pressure helped, and you shifted your fingers—and your nail accidentally dragged against your skin. 

Which was pretty much the worst thing that could happen, because it was like a tease and it shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, but you were half a second away from clawing up your thigh when Jake’s hand closed around your wrist again. 

“Seriously?” he asked, amusement coloring his tone. 

“Just let me,” you pleaded, trying to pull your wrist back. “It’ll take like two seconds and then it’ll hurt and I can stop.”

“You could also get infected or mess up the ink placement,” he said, and you stopped pulling for a moment.

“When did you learn so much about tattoo care?” you grumbled, and Jake chuckled again. It sounded different this close to him, deeper. 

“When my roommate decided to mark up the inside of her leg,” he replied easily. “Now don’t you have a lotion or something you can put on this?”

“I do, but it doesn’t help,” you said, annoyed that he was right. 

“Well, let’s at least try it, yeah?” Jake asked, and you rolled your neck, sighing. 

“Fine,” you pushed yourself off the couch. 

You felt Jake’s eyes following you to the bathroom, so you didn’t scratch at your leg, not wanting to hear more of his teasing. You found the jar of lotion, dropping back onto the couch as you unscrewed the lid. 

“It’s just gonna be sticky and leave white marks on the couch,” you groused, looking confusedly over at Jake when he held his hand out. “What?”

“What do you mean, what,” he retorted, like it was obvious. “I’m not gonna let you do this; you have zero impulse control.”

You were too stunned to resist when he plucked the lotion out of your hands, dipping his fingers into the jar. 

Had you said that the worst thing was an accidental nail brush against your tattoo?

That wasn’t true. 

Because the actual worst thing was having to sit there, pretending everything was fine and normal, as your ridiculously hot roommate started spreading Aquaphor on your inner thigh. 

Jake was nothing if not thorough, his long fingers smoothing the cool lotion over your skin, pressing slowly into you and fucking kneading into your thighs, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that he was entirely serious. Gone was the teasing condescension, the knowing look, and in its place was an unfamiliar gentleness. 

Jake’s head was bent, some of his perfect hair falling in front of his eyes, as he properly tended to your leg like he was a nurse and these were doctor’s orders. Like he wanted to be absolutely careful as he looked after you, like looking after you was even something he did. You swallowed, forcing your breathing to remain even. 

This was fine, this was normal. 

This was absolutely not complicating the tenuous relationship the two of you had, and wasn’t causing you to read into the pet names, the caring, the fact that his big hand was literally between your legs. 

He had to stop, or you had to stop, because now was not the time to be thinking risque things about your roommate, not when he was genuinely being sweet and trying to help.

“I think that’s good,” you said, hoping Jake couldn’t hear the tremor in your voice. 

Jake tipped his head to the side, considering his work, then nodded to himself, satisfied. He rubbed his hands together, wiping the excess lotion on the backs of his knuckles, and screwed the lid of the jar back on. You were readjusting on the couch when he leaned across you to leave the jar on the coffee table and when he shifted back, one of you messed up, because his forearm brushed against your chest. 

“Uh, sorry,” Jake said quickly, “I wasn’t—”

He was interrupted, of course.

Because you could tell yourself you were fine, everything was fine, all day long, but turns out that the slightest, accidental brush of Jake against your breasts had an ungodly whimper spilling out of your mouth before you could stop it. 

He froze. 

Shit. 

“Shit,” you said aloud, hands covering your face in embarrassment, “no, I’m sorry, that wasn’t—uh, we can ignore that—I don’t know what’s going on with me, sorry to make it weird, it’s not your fault—”

You stopped babbling when Jake’s hands closed on your wrists, and, for the upteenth time that night, you let yourself be guided by him. When he pulled your hands away, your breath caught at how close he was, and the unfamiliar expression on his face as he looked between your eyes. 

“I need to know right now,” he said, his voice serious as anything, “if you’re apologizing because you’re embarrassed, or because you didn’t mean it.”

You pressed your lips together, not trusting what sounds would come out of your mouth with Jake’s hands holding your wrists, and his eyes this intense. Whatever he read on your face had Jake’s lips parting, a shaking breath drawn in through them, before they thinned in a lazy smile. 

“And here I thought I was the perv, taking any excuse to get my hands on you, darlin’, when you’ve been wanting me just as bad.”

Your jaw dropped at his blunt words, but what, were you going to say he was wrong? 

Jake’s head cocked sideways when you didn’t say anything, and he guided your hands to the back of his neck, before letting go of them. Your fingers wound around his neck, the ends of his hair brushing your thumbs, and you realized he was waiting for you to say something before this—whatever ‘this’ was—went any further.

“Probably worse,” you admitted, not even trying to hide the breathlessness in your voice, “if I’m honest.”

Jake’s eyes darkened and his grin grew wider. “If that’s how honest sounds, I think I want to hear more of it,” he said.

Fuck, he was going to ruin you.

“Kiss me and find out?” you managed, and Jake huffed out a laugh before reaching for you again. His hands settled on your waist and he lifted to drag you towards him. 

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered before his lips crashed into yours. 

You were still reeling from the title, and how you liked the sound of it a little too much, but Jake’s mouth against yours drove that thought from your head. He kissed you like he’d wanted it for longer than you could’ve expected, his teeth biting at your lower lip, his tongue soothing after it. You shifted to help him as he pulled you towards him, both of you gasping when you settled in his lap. You were thankful his flannel pajamas could stand a bit of residual lotion, just as you were thankful for the pressure of his hands on your waist, fingers pressing into you and pulling you closer. Jake licked at the seam of your lips and you opened for him; when his tongue swept into your mouth, you felt it in your core. And suddenly, or maybe not suddenly, maybe finally, after months of build up, you were desperately needy. 

Your fingers pulled through his hair, and Jake’s hips pressed up when you pulled lightly on the strands. At the motion of his rolling hips, your pajama shorts pressed tightly into your core and the friction felt like building, and Jake broke away from your mouth with a gasp. His hands tightened on your waist, holding you still, and while you appreciated his restraint, you wanted to feel him again. 

You whispered his name as he trailed kisses down your neck, and your breath quickened when he found your pulse point under your jaw. Jake hummed, the vibration echoing over your skin, through you, and you realized he was muttering things against your skin. 

“D’you know how hard these last three weeks have been,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed kisses to new goosebumps, “with you always in those tiny shorts, saying it’s because you can’t have tight clothes over your tattoo?”

You felt lightheaded at the idea of Jake wanting you this whole time, maybe longer, locking it away and refusing to act on it because he didn’t know what you felt.    

“It’s true,” you managed, and Jake laughed, a puff of warm air over your skin. 

“And if that wasn’t enough,” another kiss, another soft suck, “you’ve been so whiny, haven’t you? Always pouting, always needy, making me wonder how you’d sound…”

Your eyes were closed, your world distilled to the heat of his mouth, the heat of his words. You pulled at him, needing his mouth over yours again, and Jake obliged. He was so much softer than you expected, gentle but firm, and he tasted so damn good. 

With him distracted, you rolled your hips again, rewarded by the friction over your core, and you could feel Jake hardening in his pajama pants. It was addictive, and you sought him out again, pouting when Jake stilled your hips again. 

“Baby,” he murmured, and heat shot through you at the pet name, not one he’d used jokingly before, “what was the point of the lotion if you’re going to grind it off against my flannels?”

“You can reapply it later,” you rationalized, but Jake shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. His lips were swollen, his cheeks reddened, and you loved the look of him like this, almost dazed. 

“C’mon,” he prompted you, and guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you managed, and Jake’s hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs. You were between his spread knees, and his hands played with the hem of your shorts before he pulled them down your legs, taking care to not scrape them over your tattoo. The air felt cold on your exposed skin, and Jake swore quietly as he dropped the shorts, staring at you in your underwear with something that felt dangerously close to adoration. 

He leaned closer, and at first you thought it was so he could be more gentle with your fragile panties, but then he pressed a kiss to the outside of your thigh and you jumped, pushing him away, embarrassed again. 

“You don’t—” you started, pursing your lips, “um, you don’t have to…do that. We can—”

Jake’s hands smoothed over your thighs, coming around to cup under your ass. Had you said his hands were cold earlier? You were sure they were burning, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched. 

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against your thighs, his nose brushing the soft skin there, as his hands squeezed you, “nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming ‘bout for months.”

Well, fuck, when he put it like that…

“Okay, then,” you said quietly, weaving your hand into his hair again, and Jake flashed a smile up at you. 

“Okay, then,” he echoed, and his fingers pulled your underwear over your hips. He scooted to the front of the couch, a motion that should’ve been cute for his enthusiasm, but instead was simply devastating. He looked so good like this, eager and hungry, and your breath caught when he licked his lips, your hips canting towards him. 

He didn’t look away from you. 

His green eyes locked on yours as he leaned closer, not pausing when his tongue crept past his lips and you were the one to break, your head tipping back when he licked you. His tongue was flat against you, like the first taste of ice cream, and your head spun at the shamelessness of it. You whimpered when he pulled away, and Jake’s breath was warm as he leaned back again. 

“There’s that sound I was after,” he murmured, his soft words a cutting juxtaposition to his filthy tongue. 

He teased you with soft licks, lapping at your arousal that’d only grown since he’d first touched your thighs earlier tonight. His hands snuck around to pull you apart, spread you on his fingers like he needed his tongue closer, tasting you and drinking you. He was unhurried and it was maddening, and you pulled at his tshirt distractedly, needing to feel his skin.  

“Ah, honey,” Jake muttered as he pulled back. “You taste so good, fucking unbelievable.”

You opened your eyes to find his chest heaving, his eyes dilated and your slick smeared across his chin. He looked so good like this, drunk on you, and you imagined you looked nearly as wrecked. He leaned back to pull his tshirt over his head, and your fingers smoothed over broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, as it was bared to you. 

He tossed the shirt aside and a moment later he was leaning back into your cunt, nuzzling your clit with his nose as his tongue lapped at you. Your knees nearly buckled at the sensation, and Jake groaned, the vibrations only increasing the intensity of the feelings flooding you. His strong hands held you up, spread before him, and he lifted his mouth to tease at your clit. You whined when his tongue rolled around you, alternating tight circles and slow, and your eyes rolled back when he closed his lips and sucked. 

“Jake, oh my god,” you gasped, feeling your stomach tighten. It was too soon, you knew it, but you also couldn’t fight it, and it was practically crashing over you—

Jake pulled back. 

You whined in confusion, looking down to find him looking up at you, a familiar expression of smug awareness on his face. He turned his head to press a gentle kiss to your thigh, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. 

“Told you I’ve been waiting on this for months, honey,” he teased, another wet kiss slightly higher on your thigh. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”

Nothing about this felt easy. Not the way he had your body primed for release, every nerve wound tight, not the way you felt it slipping away, and your desperation only climbing. 

You whimpered his name, too gone to be embarrassed by how fucked out you sounded. 

“Aw, baby…” Jake cooed, and you saw his shoulders shift as he repositioned. Before you could anticipate his next move, a broad finger was stroking through your folds, and you cried out, your hands flying to his shoulder to steady yourself. 

“So pretty like this,” Jake soothed, pulling his finger through you, stroking back over you, the pressure perfect, but not enough, “needy. Desperate.”

“Jake, please,” you cried, appalled to find real tears were pushing behind your eyes. After being so close to release, then being denied, then held steady wherever his fingers pulled you, you couldn’t be responsible for the way your body was shaking.

“Bet you’d beg me for it, wouldn’t you?” Jake said, voice even and unbothered. He added another finger, still not entering you, just teasing over you, languid. “You’re all proud when you’re strutting around in those shorts, cute when you ask for help, but not like this, huh? Like this, you know who’s in charge.”

Any response you had was cut off when he plunged both fingers into you. 

No warning, no easing, just sudden pressure and thickness and your body tightened around the sudden intrusion, unrelenting and unexpected and fucking perfect, and you couldn’t stop your orgasm as it ripped through you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake groaned, as he recognized your walls tightening around his fingers. “Thatta girl, come on, give it to me.”

You moaned, your core clenching as your denied release rolled over you, scalding and strong and you felt it in your toes. You didn’t know how you were still standing, you knew the sounds pouring out of you were unbridled, and Jake was proudly talking you through it. 

“So beautiful, baby, you’re doing so good,” he said, his other hand stroking up your neck to support your head. You turned your head desperately, pulling his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it, needing to be grounded. 

“Fuck, baby,” Jake moaned, and his fingers kept their pace inside you. You felt the edges of your orgasm soften as he worked you through it, and as the fingers not in your mouth brushed against your cheek, you realized he was wiping away tears. You were shaking, it was perfect, but his fingers inside you were pressing deeper and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to push you higher again. 

“How we doing, honey?” Jake asked, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes. He was watching you carefully, and he pulled his thumb from your mouth so you could answer him.

“Good,” you whispered, through the clearing haze, “really, really, good.”

Jake hummed, tilting his head as he considered you. His fingers scissored inside of you, and you clenched down on him, hands grasping his shoulders. 

“Then I think you should give me another,” he said, smile growing as your eyes widened. 

“Jake, wait—” you protested, but you went without opposition when he pulled you back to the couch. His fingers paused their exploration but he didn’t pull out of you as he guided you onto your back, propping your knees up carefully. 

“Have to be gentle with that thigh,” he said, his voice growing husky as he settled between your legs. He stroked his fingers again, and your core clamped down on them, still not fully returned from your first high. Any other protest you had died when he bent down again, his mouth returning to your cunt. 

You’d had his tongue, you’d had his fingers, and they’d made you cum like you hadn’t in months. And now suddenly you had both at once, and you were pretty sure it was going to cost you your mind. 

“Jake, fuck,” you keened, your back arching off the couch.

Jake didn’t respond, too busy lapping up your release and thrusting into you. His tongue traced a maddening pattern over your clit as his fingers pressed deeper into you, stretching you.  

“You taste even sweeter like this, baby,” he mumbled into you, and you moaned as you felt his words. His fingers brushed something deep inside of you and you couldn’t breathe; you reached for Jake’s hair, pulling desperately, hoping he could read how impossibly taut you were. 

“You know something,” he mused, like it was the calmest thing in the world, “you came so quick, didn’t you? Came once you had something fucking you, and it was so beautiful, honey…but I never got to hear you beg.” 

“Jake,” you whispered, his name the only word you could manage, the only thing you could say with his fingers brushing that spot and his mouth just a breath away from you. 

“Nah,” he said, his voice low, “I know you could do it so prettily. Won’t you do it for me, sweetheart, won’t you let me hear it? Let me make you cum again?”

He kissed you again, his mouth light and teasing, brushing caresses over your mound but not where you were aching, throbbing, for him. His fingers slowed, torturously, pushing you closer but not fast enough, and you felt your eyes filling again. What was he asking for?

What was anything, what did he need?

“Jake, please,” you gasped, your voice thick. “Please, please—”

“Please what, baby?” Jake asked, another soft kiss. “What do you need?”

“I need to cum,” you practically sobbed. “Please, need it so bad, please, Jake—need you so bad, need you to—”

“That’s right,” Jake practically growled, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “You need me. And I’ve got you, honey, so you can let you go, since you asked so nicely, and I’m gonna take care of you…”

His forearm was banded across your waist, holding you still as his fingers found that spot inside of you, pressed up against it, and your thighs shook as your second orgasm bowled over you. Jake’s tongue was over your clit, then his lips closed, and when you thought you might be ready to let go of the high, he sucked, and you fully shattered. You could feel your nails raking into his back, feel his responding groans through the mouth still pressed to your cunt, as your world dissolved into white heat. It swept over you and you stopped trying to ride it, just let yourself be thrown, buffeted by Jake’s mouth, Jake’s fingers, Jake’s soft words.  

“Fucking gorgeous, baby, you did so good,” Jake was murmuring into the skin of your stomach. His fingers were still inside of you, gently rocking but no longer trying to stimulate you. It would’ve brought tears to your eyes, if they weren’t already streaming, how tender he was being with you. The whiplash was incredible—how quickly he’d brought you to orgasm, how easily he’d denied you, how thoroughly fucked out you were, now that he’d given it to you. 

God, and you hadn’t even had him yet. 

“Jake,” you croaked, your throat hoarse, and he lifted his head to look up at you. 

“What is it, honey?” he asked, voice soft. He was propped up on his elbows, and he shifted slightly, pulling his fingers out of you. You pressed your lips together to stop a whimper from escaping and trying to ignore how empty you felt, and watching quietly as he wiped his hands absently on his pajama pants before looking back up at you. 

You lifted a hand to brush away some of his hair that’d fallen into his face. You shifted slightly, pulling the hem of your tshirt down to wipe at his chin, clean him up a little. It was rough, not the intended purpose of the garment, and Jake laughed a little at the clumsiness of the action, pressing his jaw into your cotton-covered hand, to help you as you wiped at his face. 

You bit your lip, more to stop yourself from smiling so wide it made you hurt, looking down at him, propped up on his elbows 

He looked proud. 

He looked content, and it made your heart swell uncomfortably in your chest, that he’d look like that after taking care of you. But the longer you looked at him, something like doubt flickered behind his eyes and he cleared his throat, looking away. 

“If…” he started, and he shook his head, like he was clearing the fog after a night out. “Uh, you know, if that’s too much…or not what you wanted, or something, we can just say it was a distraction. You know, to get your mind off the tattoo.”

You hadn’t thought about the thing in what felt like a lifetime.

More importantly, you saw Jake still wasn’t meeting your eyes, like he expected you to say that that’s all this was, and he was worried you’d see too much if you were looking at him when you said it. It broke your heart, that he would push away his own repressed feelings, if it meant protecting yours. 

Although, to be fair, you’d both been more honest in the last thirty minutes than you’d been in the months before, so it was probably on you, as well as him. 

You carded your fingers through his hair again, waiting.

It took another couple seconds, but Jake steeled himself and looked back at you. 

You hadn’t realized you’d missed the green of them. 

In the height of everything, they’d been hooded and dark, the bright color nearly lost in his blown pupils. But like this, clear and sweet, you thought you might like this better. 

“It wasn’t too much,” you said, simply.

Jake’s shoulders dropped, just slightly, and you saw him wanting to contest it, and so you shook your head. 

“I think that’s a conversation for later,” you said gently, “when we’re both a little more clothed, hmm?”

“Oh,” Jake said, his head turning quickly as he looked around for your pajama shorts. “I can reach—”

You wanted to roll your eyes and you wanted to pinch him, just a little, to get him to listen to you. “That’s not what I meant,” you corrected. “I’m not…I’m not ready to be done. Besides, we han’t gotten you off yet.”

“Oh, that’s okay, that’s not what this was about,” Jake said quickly and you tilted your head, pushing yourself up to sitting. 

Jake was still between your spread knees, your faces close together now, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek, a quick reassurance before you reached between the two of you. 

Jake jumped when your hand slid over the front of his pajama pants, and you felt like cooing. Even through the thick cotton, you felt him respond to your touch. The fabric had to be adding to the illusion, because he felt enormous under the flannel. 

And it was very gentlemanly that this was for you, that he didn’t want this to be a thing about reciprocity, but in a much more tangible way, he’d made you feel infinite, just a few minutes ago. If you could do the same for him, you imagined you’d probably feel just as proud as he had, to see you come undone.

“What’d you say,” you asked innocently, your fingers trailing up the length of him, “about distracting me?”

When you looked back up at Jake, his eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly, deliberate, like he was holding his breath. 

Sweet man. 

You leaned back up to kiss him gently, waiting for him to kiss you back. It took only a moment, and you bit back a moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. You kissed him softly for a minute, gentle lips, gentle tastes, coaxing. When you pulled back, Jake’s lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes to look at you. 

“I don’t know,” you lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I think I’d be pretty distracted if I were choking on your dick, Jake.”

“Jesus,” Jake whispered, and his hips bucked into your touch. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

You licked your lips, his words from earlier coming back to you. “Nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

Jake surged forward, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you to him. You tasted his longing in this kiss, the tight reins he held himself in check with, and how desperately he wanted to give them to you, if only for a moment. You wanted that, and maybe for a little longer. So you kissed him for a moment more, then slid off the couch, settling between his knees like before, but this time, he stayed with his back against the back of the couch, and you were on the ground. 

“Wait,” he said, leaning over to grab a pillow, and gesturing for you to use it under your knees.  

Forget rolling your eyes or pinching him, did you want to marry him?

You shook the thought out of your head, settling on the cushion and reaching up to help Jake slide the pajama pants down. He hooked his boxer briefs along with them, and once they slid past his hips, his cock sprang free. 

“Holy fuck, Seresin,” you whispered, looking up at his face. Jake shrugged, a kind of bashful you hadn’t seen him before. One of his hands fisted his cock loosely, like he needed something to do, and you reached up to pry his fingers away. 

No wonder he walked around like he did. 

As you wrapped your hands around him, replacing his fingers, you couldn’t deny a fresh wave of arousal washed over you. His wasn’t the longest dick you’d seen, but he was thick, a dusty rose color that you’d kill for a lipstick match of—which just made you think of why you were waiting so long to get him in your mouth. 

But he’d teased you, and when you glanced up at Jake, his hands clenched at his sides, his stomach tight, you figured he was due for a taste of his own medicine. 

You kissed up his thighs slowly, loving the contrast of wiry hair over smooth skin, and when you got to his cock, you let out a warm breath over the tip. As you watched, a smooth drop of precum appeared at the edge of his cock, and you frowned in mock sympathy, knowing how worked up he must’ve been from finishing you, while denying himself. 

“Bet you’d beg something pretty yourself, Jake,” you teased softly, licking at the drop of moisture and pulling his salty taste back into your mouth. You hummed, immediately salivating for more, but Jake’s hips jerked up as he choked in a breath.

“Darlin’...” he said, his voice low, and you had mercy on him, not needing to hear the words to know how badly he wanted this. 

“Good thing I’m nicer than you, hmm?” you asked, before you licked at him again. 

Jake’s head fell back limply as you tongued his tip, teasing the sensitive head before you licked up the length of him. This was supposed to be for him, but as you were here, you were lost in the exploration of him—the gorgeous weight of him, the musky scent of him, the rich taste, and the sounds he was making. 

You kind of loved how quiet he was being, when it was clearly costing him dearly. 

It meant that when he did burst, it was going to be loud, and you wanted that break. You kissed your way lightly back to his tip, before opening your mouth and pulling him in. 

You’d been joking earlier, about it being distracting, but fuck. The ache to your jaw was immediate, your mouth open as wide as it could to accommodate his thickness. But it felt so good, deeply satisfying, to be able to hold him like this. Warm and thick in your mouth, stretching you—you moaned around him, imagining him filling you. You hollowed your cheeks lightly, sucking, and Jake groaned above you. 

There it was. 

You pushed yourself deeper onto him, holding your breath and fighting your gag reflex, and Jake’s hands shot out to hold the back of your head, his breath a low moan that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. 

You clenched your thighs together, the sound of him and the weight of him had you feeling so empty, while you knew you were physically stretching to your limits. You pulled off of him, a trail of saliva falling from between your lips and his tip, and Jake swore softly at the sight. 

“That mouth, baby,” he groaned, and you felt his thumb trace your lips, smearing your spit across it. You opened your mouth, holding out your tongue and Jake groaned again, feeding his cock back into your mouth.

You felt like he could see straight through you.

That was how it felt, his eyes boring into you as his cock stretched your jaw and his hips pressed slowly deeper. Your nostrils flared and your eyes were streaming again, but you wanted this, wanted him, wanted him to find his release in you, as you had in him. You couldn’t take him all the way down your throat, not now, although you relished the idea of training, so you found a rhythm that seemed to work for both of you. 

Jake’s hips rose slightly to meet you, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, alternating sucking and swirling your tongue over his tip. Your other hands stroked the part of him that you couldn’t fit, squeezing and pulling and you heard Jake’s breathing getting heavier. You were lightheaded, overwhelmed by him, but you couldn’t stop, not for something as simple as air. 

The stretch of him was so good, unrelenting and perfect, and the steadiness with which he held himself in check, it felt like a promise. It made your core ache, throbbing and empty, but you reached up to play with his balls. One of your hands cupped him lightly and then Jake was pulling you off of him. 

You choked at the sudden influx of air as Jake set you back on your thighs, his hands smoothing over your face as he checked you were okay. You couldn’t remember a time you’d felt better, lightheaded and dreamy, but you nodded obediently in answer to the unspoken question, and Jake pulled you to standing. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you knew with absolute certainty that you’d follow him.

Mercifully, it was just around the couch, and when you understood his plan, you whimpered slightly, hoping you could take it. You braced your forearms on the armrest of the coach, rocking back on your hips, presenting your ass to him, and Jake was already behind you, covering you. His long arms draped over yours, pressing you into the couch, even as his knee worked between your thighs, spreading your legs. You moaned when you felt his cock slap against your thighs, and one of Jake’s hands fell to between your legs to cup your cunt. 

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, voice somehow both rough and awed. “Is this new? You work yourself up, getting me off?”

You meant to say ‘obviously, asshole’, or ‘as if you didn’t know it’, but what came out was a truly pathetic, “Jake, please…”

He chuckled, his body stretched over yours, and the sound broke off when he guided his cock towards your core. 

“Honey, you’re so wet and warm, fuck. Need to be in you, baby, need to feel this tight cunt—”

“Do it already,” you cried, rewarded by another deep laugh from Jake, and then you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because that thick cock was pushing into you. 

It was a good thing he was holding you up. 

Your body was shaking to accommodate him, already loosened from your orgasms and his fingers, but the stretch still bordered on painful, and you dropped your head to your forearms as he pushed into you. You weren’t doing anything, you were simply there, letting him fuck into you slowly, and you couldn’t think of anywhere better to be. 

“Fuck, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake groaned, and you knew he was trying to go slow, but that didn’t make the stretch any more attainable.

“Need you,” you managed. “Please, Jake, want to be full—”

His hips slammed forward and you cried out as he bottomed out into you. 

You felt impaled, you felt him in your throat, you felt like this was everything you could want and you trembled but held him in you. You felt full, and it was so, so good.  

“Honey,” Jake gritted, “I’ve got to move, but I need to know you’re okay.”

“I’m good,” you whispered, “let me feel you.”

He groaned, another gorgeous iteration of that sound, and when he pulled back, you clawed at the edge of the couch. It was like he was shifting your center of gravity, but the pull was re-orienting. You had no choice but to surrender to it. 

Your whole universe was balanced on the edge of the sofa. 

Jake’s thick cock, stuffing you. Jake’s strong chest, pressed against your back, his arms holding you up, pulling you to him. Jake’s sweat, dripping off of him and onto you, sweet and sticky and heady. The pull and push of him, overwhelming and deep, remaking you. 

You weren’t going to cum from this; it was too much, but it was too good to stop. You’d already had yours, and you could hear how good it was for Jake, could feel it in the tight clench of his hands and the short length of his thrusts. 

Jake groaned, a throaty sound that jolted through you as he pulled you back onto his dick.

“Sweetheart you feel so good…is this what we’ve been missing out on? This tight as fuck cunt, that I can just feel clenching around me? Touch yourself, honey, I need to feel you come again, want to feel you come on my cock.”

You couldn’t be sure if you were crying or babbling, but when Jake told you to play with yourself, you summoned your boneless limbs to do as he asked. 

When your fingers brushed your clit, you immediately pulled back; it was too much. 

“I can’t,” you gasped, hands falling back to brace against the couch. “It’s too much, Jake, I can’t–”

“Poor baby,” Jake gritted, and one of his hands smoothed down your back before dipping around to your stomach and finding his way to your clit. Your knees buckled and your hips jerked away from his hand, but a moment later you were pressing into him, needing the perfect pain of his touch. 

“Honey, you’re doing so good,” Jake’s voice was tight. “God, you feel unreal, clenching down on me like that. Are you gonna cum again? Is this pussy going to cum for me?” 

“Jake,” you sobbed, his name the only prayer you could manage.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothed, his touch gentling, even as his hips sped up. “I’m almost there; I know you are too. Where can I come, honey, where do you want me–”

“Jake,” you moaned, your head thrashing from side to side. It was too much, it wasn’t enough, but you knew you needed him. “In me…please..Jake...”

“Holy fuck,” Jake groaned. “Baby, are you sure I–”

You bucked back into him, the thought of losing his heat and his presence nearly unbearable. “Need you,” you whimpered. “Jake, please–”

“I’m right here,” Jake’s hips pistoned impossibly faster. “Fuck, I’m here, I’ve got you. Shit, honey, you feel so good, you’re gonna make me cum, baby, please–”

He ground his hips deep into you and rolled his fingers over your clit once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out and you felt Jake grunt as he caught you, his hips pounding into you a couple more times and he stilled with another beautiful moan as he pumped his release into you. You felt him, hot and pulsing inside of you, and you wanted to curl up into that feeling forever—warm, full, safe. 

Jake summoned some kind of strength as he turned the both of you, him settling onto the ground and you on his lap, your cunt clenching around him, like you still couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. You turned into his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you, cradling you, somehow knowing how intense that had been and that you needed the warmth of his chest before you could come back down. 

You were shaking, incredibly exhausted but deeply satisfied. And as you drifted back, you became aware of the tangible things around you—Jake’s chest hair prickling your face. Stranger Things still playing, on the TV. The cool air in the room around you, the sticky remains between your thighs. 

You lifted your head to find Jake looking down at you, his expression careful, like he was worried what he’d see. Your eyes closed again, and you managed a smile before you turned your face into his chest again, pressing a kiss to whatever was closest. His hands were locked around your back, but you could feel his thumb brushing over your skin, lightly. And it was wild, that that was what had started this all, and if you’d had the energy for it, you would’ve laughed. 

You could deal with the repercussions later, what this meant for your roommate situation, if your thigh was any worse for wear, any of that. Because that motion, that comforting gesture that Jake didn’t even seem to be aware he was doing—that meant that this was always where you were gonna end up. 

//

tagging: @bradshawsbitch @callsign-fangirl @laracrofted @datemephoenix @mandylove1000 @withahappyrefrain @gigisimsonmars @babyonboardfloyd @blue-aconite @mxgyver @hangmanbrainrot @lt-bradshaw @wildbornsiren @fuckyeahhangman @double-j @sebsxphia @javihoney @jadore-andor @teacupsandtopgun @thedroneranger

Three's a crowd

Word count: 32k

It's not often you and all your best friends can hang out and have a movie night together, not while balancing everything else required to live the model adult life.

So you take advantage of the rare opportunity to make, potentially, a very dumb decision.

What harm could there be in taking three edibles at once? Your best friends are here to take care of you, there's nothing for you to worry about.

What could be so scary about the fact that not a single one of them is paying attention to the TV? (Except Bo, at least he's invested.) Or, the way that they can't seem to keep their hands off of you. You're rather open with your affection, but they've never been so touchy before, not like this. They've never had you sit in their lap while they run their hands over your body, they've never knelt between your legs with a crooked smile, never slid their hands beneath the waistband of your shorts.

What might be scary, though, is how they wait until they're absolutely sure your edibles have kicked in to drop the façade, when they know for sure you won't be able to remember a single thing they do to you.

What harm could there be, indeed.

(Dubcon-turned-consensual, orgy, dom/sub dynamics, drugs, fem!reader, double penetration (same hole,) anal m!receiving, roleplay, oral, hand jobs, overstimming, reader is put thru the ringer, hella aftercare, poly dynamics. )

“Are you sure that taking three isn’t going to be too much?” 

Akaashi’s voice is fairly dubious, heavy with suspicion as he’s eyeing you with an expression of blatant concern and doubt. 

He’s seated in an oversized armchair nestled against the window, just barely out of reach from your spot on the far right of your well-loved couch. Your legs are tossed over Bokuto’s lap, his warm hands rubbing absentmindedly at your calves while listening to your conversation. 

“It’s not gonna be that bad y’know, I took two before and felt fine.” You try to reassure him, twisting around in your spot so that you can actually see him while you talk. The look on his face, however, is far from promising. The intense furrow in his brow is enough to tell you that you’re not as convincing as you might want to be. 

After all, ‘fine’ actually meant that you were completely laid out and had to have Tsukishima take care of you while you were sprawled on his kitchen floor trying to explain to him why your arms were so tingly, so you can’t be too surprised that Akaashi doesn’t believe you. 

Kuroo snorts out a laugh from his side at the other end of the couch, his legs overlapping with yours. He throws a particularly cocky grin your way, eyes like dark whiskey glinting in the light from the TV. “You were definitely not fine. Tsukki called me that night, freaking out because he couldn’t figure out why you were telling him you had bees in your arms.” 

You snicker, but said blonde looks less than pleased, glaring at you from where he stands in the kitchen with his elbows leaned on the counter while he scrolls through his phone. “I’m seriously not taking care of you this time, not again.” He warns you, his scowl deepening when both you and Kuroo share a doubtful look. 

He says the same thing almost every time, that he’s going to leave you to fend for yourself, that you’re just going to have to ask someone else for help. He never follows through with it, always one of the first ones to get you whatever you need. Even if he complains about it. 

“If you say so!” You grin, trying to stifle it when Kuroo gently kicks your leg, barely able to hide a smirk of his own. Kei glowers , hunched over the counter with his phone held tight in both hands. His face is tinged pink, and even far away you can catch the hard swallow that bobs his throat, because he knows, and he knows that you know. 

He’ll always take care of you. 

You turn back towards Akaashi, stretching your arm out as far as you can in his direction and wiggling your fingers to catch his attention as though you didn’t already have it to begin with. His expression is decidedly unimpressed, leveling you with a look that you could almost assume is a glare, if you didn’t know better. Akaashi rarely gets angry , so you’ve picked up the horrid habit of pushing his buttons when you know he’s more likely to indulge you. 

You wave your hand around dramatically, making grabby motions with your fingers until he’s rolling his eyes and smiling, though he tries to hide it by biting the insides of his lips to keep them from curling. 

“I’ll be okay, ‘Kaashi.” It’s a flimsy assurance, your impulse control when under the influence is, to say frankly, utter shit. You’re constantly getting into shit you shouldn’t, constantly trying to do things that you shouldn’t, and you’re always trying to make weird, spur of the moment decisions. So, you don’t bother trying to promise him that you won’t do anything stupid. He'd just call you a liar anyway.

But you’re not alone, so at least when you’re making dumb decisions like this you aren’t by yourself in case something goes wrong. You’re with your closest friends, people who you know and trust to take care of you, you wouldn’t be doing this otherwise. 

Kuroo especially, even though he’ll never admit it outloud, he actually likes it when you get high around him. He’s seen firsthand during old college parties the way you would decline any weed or alcohol flat out, unwilling to let yourself be in that kind of vulnerable position without being near people you trusted. That you feel safe enough to do it around him says volumes, and so he tends to coddle you a little whenever you get high, though he refuses to acknowledge that he does so.

He’s usually the second one to sneak you snacks though, only rivaled by Bokuto in his efforts to spoil you when you get stupid. 

Bokuto, in contrast, has always been vocal about how much he loves it, loves the way you giggle at nothing and the way you always get a little clingier towards everyone. He’s never gotten high with you, but his energy is infectious, and the two of you feed into each other with horrible impulse purchases and loud peals of laughter well after everyone else has gone to sleep, to the detriment of the others. Your late night edibles have been the cause of many a midnight trip to the convenience store for snacks, trips that Bokuto is more than happy to accompany you on. 

No matter how much these edibles might fuck you up, you have your guys who will take care of you, so you aren’t worried in the slightest. 

Akaashi sighs, his stern expression faltering when he sees the easy smile on your face, your arm still stretched out towards him. The facade cracks a little, but you don’t find blatant concern hidden beneath the surface like you expect. 

He looks excited. For just a second, pupils blown wide against the navy expanse of his iris, a flush that simmers high on his cheekbones, fingers clenched tight on the arms of the chair as he sucks in a quick breath. 

Then it’s gone, he gives in and moves to take your hand, having to lean over the side of his chair just to reach you. His fingers are gentle as they wrap around yours, weathered from years of volleyball and keeping up with the other three on the off occasion when they can convince him to set for their practice. You squeeze once in an attempt at a comforting gesture, wanting to try to reassure him, but then his thumb glides over your knuckles in a ghost of a caress that feels strangely possessive. A shiver races up your spine and his grip tightens, if only briefly, and you suddenly feel much more aware of the other three pairs of eyes on you.  

You pull away, instinctive, hiding another shiver when his face sours at your retreat. Bo keeps you steady when you lean forward to snag the bottle of edibles from your coffee table, hands warm on your calves and firm enough to pull you back up when you begin to slide off the couch. 

You pop three gummies into your mouth, grimacing as the bitter, astringent taste coats your tongue. Even with a thin layer of sugar on the outside, it does nothing to disguise the flavor of THC. It tastes like you licked the floor of a recently sanitized hospital. 

“Gross.” You groan, sticking your tongue out as if that will help remove the awful flavor from your mouth. Kuroo snickers at you, gently bopping you with his leg again to get your attention. You nudge him back, playfully scowling at his sly grin, the way he tips his head back to peer at you with half-lidded eyes. 

“That bad?” He asks, like he does every time, grin stretching when you throw the small container at him. Bo catches it instead, pointedly ignoring the look of utter betrayal you send his way. 

“Awful, tastes like juice and sanitizer.” 

An arm stretches out from over your shoulder, a bottle of juice held loosely between slender fingers and dangled in front of your face. You let your head fall against the back of the couch to see Tsukishima curled over you, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. He frowns at you, clearly waiting for you to take the bottle so he can move, but you wait a little longer to drag it out. He’s pretty like this, with his eyes bright from the reflected light of the TV. 

When he sees you aren’t going to take it, he makes a low noise of frustration and drops the bottle in your lap. 

“Thank you, Kei.” You sing sweetly, uncapping the drink to take a small sip and pointedly ignoring his pissy huff, watching as he turns away to return to his place in the kitchen. 

You had tried to get him to come join you on the couch before, but with Bo and Kuroo sprawled into the small space beside you, there wasn’t enough room and he didn’t seem to want to relax anyway. It’s like he’s on edge, fingers tapping at the kitchen counter while he watches the TV with blank eyes, seeing but not really paying attention. 

You turn back to the show, settling against the arm of the couch and reaching out towards Bokuto, waiting with your hand upturned for him to take it. His fingers immediately lace between yours and tighten until your palms kiss, and the sweet smile he gives you is enough to make you feel molten and dewy, soft beneath the warmth of his affection. 

Part of you wants to reach for Akaashi again as well, the urge to touch him is almost a tangible thing that festers, but he’s too far away and looks comfortable in his spot, so you reign in the urge to pester him for his hand. It’s hard to shake, and the fingers of your free hand curl inwards to form a fist as a tangible way to quell the desire.

Kuroo bumps his foot into your leg, though, almost like he knows you’re at the stage of your budding high where you begin to want some form of physical contact. You bump him back, grinning when he smirks at you, Bo stuck in the middle as you begin trying to push each other’s legs off of his lap. He has the advantage, stronger, legs longer than yours, but he goes easy on you when you’re high. 

If you were sober, though, he’d be merciless. Kuroo hates losing. 

Nights like this are common, or as common as they can be when your friends are athletes, an editor, and a businessman, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is different tonight. Kuroo is messing with you as usual, Kei is being a grump like every other night, Akaashi toes the line between being a disgruntled parent and being just as mischievous as Kuroo, and Bo is your willing cuddle buddy as always. Nothing is different, but you can’t quite relax.  

You can’t figure out why. 

Maybe it’s the way none of them are actually watching TV, other than Bokuto. They’re stealing glances in your direction, sharing undecipherable looks with each other when they think you aren’t paying attention, touching you more than usual. You don’t mind the affection, but it feels a little off. Unease creeps up your throat, but Bo’s hand is steady against your calves, warm and reassuring as he’s always been, soft from the lotion he’d let you apply hours ago. 

If there was something wrong, you’re sure he wouldn’t be this calm or collected, he’s terrible at hiding when he’s upset and he never really tries to. You tighten your grip on his hand, a questioning squeeze, and he answers immediately. Reassuring, and then Kuroo reaches out to curl his fingers along the sensitive skin of your ankle, thumb smoothing over the arch to capture your attention. 

When he has it, he smiles, unlike the typical catlike smirks that curl at his lips, it’s inviting and indulgent. He squeezes your ankle once and shares a look with Bo, something hidden and secret passing between them, but your thoughts are turning syrupy and you’re finding it a little hard to remember what had you so stressed to begin with. 

They touch you slowly, warm hands sliding up and down your legs in rhythmic loops that have you melting into the couch, missing the way Akaashi watches with burning eyes as you let out a pleasured murmur and how he tenses up in his seat, missing how Kei nearly chokes on air at the sound and covers his mouth with one hand, brows knitted tightly together. 

You can’t feel the weight of their attention, but if you could it would surely be stifling. 

Each passing episode of your show begins to bleed into the next, a blur of colorful pixels and noise that slowly melds into a single cacophony against your senses, as if you’ve fully zoned out. Sometimes you startle out of it, muscles tensing up as you straighten, before relaxing when you remember where you are. 

Somewhere along the hour, you end up in Bokuto’s lap, his chest snug against your back and his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. He’s warm, his chin tucked over your shoulder so he can still see the screen, humming happily when he squishes his cheek against yours.

You giggle and press your face against his in return, the two of you snickering together even though he doesn’t really know why you’re laughing, but he likes that you’re happy and that’s enough to have him join you. You sink into him slowly, the plush of his thighs much more inviting than your couch. He’s like one of those really big teddy bears, all soft and squishy when he’s not flexing. 

And with a newly freed space opened on the couch, you can turn your attention back towards Tsukishima to convince him to take the vacant spot. 

But he’s being difficult.

“Kei.” 

He’s still not answering you, eyes locked onto the screen of his phone, those pretty fingers tapping an unfamiliar rhythm on the cold countertop. 

You shift a little, turning so you can face the kitchen a little easier. “Kei!” 

He lifts his head, brow furrowed. “What?” 

“Come sit with me.” You demand once more, perhaps a little petulantly, waving one of your arms in indication of the empty space beside you and Bo. 

Kuroo has moved from your side to the floor, sitting between your legs, and he’s propped them up over his shoulders so he can rest his hands on your ankles. Bo’s legs are stretched wide around the width of him, which gives you ample room to stretch out in his lap and slump against his chest. Kuroo’s trembling a little, and you can hear the faint wheeze of his laughter, the sound high pitched and a touch manic because you’ve been bugging Tsukishima to join you on the couch for five minutes straight and he’s this close to losing it. 

“I don’t want to.” Said blonde declines, expression pinched in frustration with his eyes thinned nearly to slits, lips pressed tight together in a thin grimace. “I’m fine right here, pay attention to the TV.” 

You scowl. “I’ll pay attention when you come over here.” 

“I don’t want to.” He repeats, and Akaashi groans softly, dragging a hand down his face as if that will wipe away his exasperation. 

Kuroo tips his head, muffling his laughter against the skin of your knee, butterflies stirring low in your belly at the way his breath warms where his lips nearly touch. Bokuto is chuckling too, soft little puffs of breath that skim over your ear, and he’s languid beneath you, molten as opposed to being hardwired with energy like he usually is when you get like this. 

“Come sit.” You demand, and yet another circle is completed, this time Akaashi’s groan is louder, his gaze pointed and sharp and very intentionally avoided by you. 

When he sees that you’re ignoring him, he gets up to take your previous spot, sitting on your right and pressed into Bokuto’s side so he can reach for you. He cups your chin gently with slender fingers, turning you around to face him and forcing you to meet his intensely unamused expression. His hand is cold, unyielding when you try to twist out of his grip. 

You swallow, and his eyes dip to track the bob of your throat, his grip on your face tightening a little. Fingertips press into your cheeks, small divots he uses for leverage to pull you closer. 

“Leave Kei alone, love.” He murmurs, releasing his hold on your face and letting his hand fall to cup your jaw instead, his thumb sweeping wide arcs across your cheek. “You shouldn’t try to make him come if he doesn’t want to.” 

Kuroo snickers, which chains into Bo trying to stifle a laugh against your shoulder as well, the two of them struggling to keep from amping the other up and setting off an inevitable bout of hyena cackling. Your lips twitch, but you manage to contain your smile so Akaashi doesn’t glare at you like he is at them. 

“I miss him.” You say it softly, a secret that draws his focus back to you, your voice little more than a quiet rasp so that Kei can’t overhear. Akaashi melts, practically coos at the softness you’ve revealed . As much as he enjoys your snark, he likes your vulnerability more, when you’re honest rather than stubborn with him. 

He tips close to press the bridge of his nose against your cheek, pleased when you lean into him. “You could tell him that.” He drops his voice to a whisper as well, playing along. “Instead of trying to make him angry, you know annoying him isn’t going to get you anywhere.”  

Tsukishima is frowning now that he can’t hear your voices, leaning across the counter with his scowl morphing into more of a worried frown, phone flat on the countertop and forgotten. 

“I would rather die than admit I miss him to his face.” You tell him seriously, and that’s the last straw for Bokuto or Kuroo controlling their laughter. 

Akaashi bumps your forehead with his, a gentle chiding that makes you whine, but he’s unrepentant. 

“Try asking him nicely, I’m sure that would get you much farther than ordering him to sit here.” His fingertips glide down the arch of your throat, a pleased noise sealed tightly behind his lips when you tilt your head to give him better access. 

The air sizzles, pops with simmering tension that you’re, unfortunately, a little too far in the back of your head to really notice. 

“Feels nice.” You murmur, voice thick and slurred, unfamiliar on your tongue. 

“Does it?” He breathes, fingers twitching as they trace invisible lines over your collar bones, drifting lower as you crane your head back as if to invite him in for more. 

Something about it feels more intimate than you anticipated, like he’s branding you with his touch, possessive in how he curls closer to you as though trying to climb into Bokuto’s lap as well. The thought makes you giggle, cutting through some of the tension and allowing Akaashi to relax into you, resting his forehead against your shoulder to stifle a heavy exhale.

“Ohhh, is someone a little up in the clouds right now?” Kuroo tips his head back with a grin, something playful on his face that softens when you reach out to swipe his bangs out of his eyes. Your fingers linger against his cheek, and his eyes dip to half-closed, a sort of smolder that brims with unidentifiable heat. 

“Just a little.” You admit, a shiver crawling up your spine when Bo’s hands dip beneath the hem of your shorts, fingertips grazing bare skin. You feel raw, wildly sensitive as a pleasant buzz builds at the base of your neck. You shudder, full-bodied in his lap, and his hands press down as if to hold you in place, pulling you back into him with a noise that you feel in his chest more than hear. 

Before you can ask if you’ve hurt him, Tsukishima has finally gotten sick enough of not being part of your conversation that he’s decided to join you. Not at your side, like you wanted, but seated at the other end of the couch, as far from you as possible. You pull away from Akaashi’s gentle touch to scowl in his direction. 

“Kei!” 

He mirrors your scowl, though there’s a light dust of pink across his cheeks. “What? I came over here, what more do you want?” 

“I want you to come closer. ”

"No.” A steadfast refusal, and he’s already turning back towards the TV, completely prepared to ignore you.

You groan, kicking your limbs out as best you can with Kuroo’s hands on your legs and Bo’s arms tucked beneath yours. “Kei! ” 

Akaashi sighs, a hand on your thigh to reign you in, a subtle reminder that you reluctantly adhere to. 

You decide that it might be better to play nice, for now. You back off, repositioning yourself in Bo’s lap so you’re looking towards the TV, squirming a little when his hands squeeze your hips tight. You giggle, and then he rocks you back into him again, a breathless puff of air spilling against your ear that you think might be a laugh. 

“Bokuto.” Akaashi’s voice is sharp enough that you nearly jump, and Bo definitely does. He startles beneath you, hips twitching, and you gasp when, for a moment, he grinds you down hard on his lap, muffling a noise against your neck that sounds almost pained. 

But he settles after that, apparently properly scolded. He hugs you to him, face buried in the crook of your neck, warm and solid and you’re almost sure you could fall asleep just like this. Kuroo is trying not to laugh, you can feel the tremble of his shoulders beneath your legs, and your hand instinctively goes back to the top of his head, fingers ruffling his already messy hair and making him swat at you half-heartedly. 

It’s harder to focus on the show now. You hear the voices, the screech of metal on metal, and the blur of colors whips by leaving you dazed, staring blankly at the moving screen even though none of the information is sticking. Completely glossed over, you turn your attention inwards to the sensations around you instead, your favorite part after the incredibly deep sleep the high provides.

Kuroo’s hair is silken, soft, you bury both hands in it and begin massaging his scalp. He makes a startled noise that begins as a yelp but ends in a pleasured sigh, melting beneath your hands.

Bo removes his right arm from your waist and lifts it, coaxing Akaashi into coming closer with two pairs of puppy eyes tossed in for added effect. After a brief moment of hesitation, some unsaid emotion shining in his eyes, Akaashi dips close and leans into Bo’s chest, and by proxy rests his head against your shoulder. 

His hand moves to rest on your thigh overtop Bokuto’s, their fingers lacing together in a gesture that makes you smile, feeling warm and buzzy all over. 

Your patience is rewarded when Kei begins to move closer as well, shifting subtly at first, half an inch at a time, then scooting the rest of the way until he’s pressed into Bo’s side. Wordlessly, his left arm lifts, and then Kei joins you and Akaashi resting against the spiker’s chest. 

One of his hands finds yours, clammy, his fingers tight as they squeeze down on the spaces between yours. You rub your cheek against the top of his head, feeling the soft silk of his hair and humming contentedly even as he makes a low grunt of protest and tries to duck away from you. You follow, leaning far off to the left to chase him as he moves, and Bo has to hastily snap his arm back around your waist to stop you from falling over completely. 

When you let out a breathy, high-pitched giggle, grabbing for Kei to try and pull him back in, Akaashi reaches out to drag you upright by the shoulder. 

“Behave.” He reminds you, watching as your head tilts, lolling lazily to one side, your eyes a touch glassy and dazed. 

The buzz is louder now, droning on like you’ve stuffed the inside of your skull with cotton, and you feel it like a tangible weight settling over your body, static on the top layer of your skin. You begin to hum, softly to yourself, and Bo presses his cheek against yours with a small, affectionate murmur, once again tickling you with the light scruff of his stubble, pleased when it draws more laughter from you. 

Your fingers end up combing through Kuroo’s hair again, buried to the scalp and scratching until he’s leaning back into your touch with a groan that rumbles deep in his chest. His hands squeeze your calves tighter, head tilted back so he can look up at you with heavy eyes. His smile widens a tic when he sees the clearly drowsy expression you wear, like you’re not even paying attention to anything else but him.  

“Whatcha doin, pretty?” He drawls, low and slow and content. 

“Jus’ playin’.” You murmur, just as soft. “Your hair feels nice.” 

“Yeah?” He lets his eyes fall shut briefly, indulgence oozing from every pore. “Glad you think so.” 

It’s nice being like this, and you wish you could take a picture of him right now. Relaxed, lines of tension normally creasing his face are gone, a light smile that you’re not sure he realizes is there. You think if he were a cat, he’d be purring up a storm with the way he rolls his head against your hands to encourage you towards a specific spot. 

“Are you comfy?” You ask, voice a little breathy as Bo turns his face in towards your neck, his lips warm as they ghost over your racing pulse. It makes you squirm, writhing in his lap until his hands clamp down on your waist, squeezing once in what feels almost like a warning. 

“Sure am.” Kuroo’s eyes glint with mirth, deception like a honeyed glaze that you don’t have to try all that hard to see through. 

You frown, poking the back of his head with a low whine. “The floor isn’t comfy, Tetsurou, don’t lie.” 

He softens, chuckles, patting your thigh affirmingly and catching your hand to bring it to his lips. “Your lap is plenty comfy enough for me, don’t worry.” 

Ignoring him, you turn towards Tsukishima, who has been trying to act like he’s paying attention to the show and not listening to you talk. “Kei?” You call softly, leaning forward in Bo’s lap so you can try to catch his eye. 

He looks at you warily, shoulders hunched up towards his ears as if that will offer him some defense from whatever you’re about to say. “What?”

“Would you pass me that throw pillow, please?” 

He blinks at you, owlishly, head cocked to one side with something vaguely like confusion . “What?” He repeats, baffled.

You gesture towards Kuroo. “I wanna give him somethin’ to sit on, the floor hurts. Please?” 

Bo hums against your skin, a soft puff of laughter that skims across your shoulder. “You’re not usually this nice to Tsukki, what’s got you bein’ all sweet?”

His hands move further down, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pajama shorts. You squirm when he pushes them lower around your thighs, pushing against him and trying to blink away the thick haze blanketing you in cement. Slow, muddled, feeling as if you’re moving through water as you bat at his hands weakly.  

Kuroo lets out a soft croon as he turns, kneeling between your legs with a grin. The view of your knees propped up over his shoulders suddenly looks a lot less innocent. “How sweet of you, what a thoughtful girl you are.” He teases, warm, rough hands gliding up your thighs, pushing the material of your shorts higher up to meet where Bo is pushing them down. Their fingers lace together briefly, a look shared between them before Kuroo’s eyes are back on you. 

You gasp, jumping a little at the ticklish sensation of their fingertips ghosting over your skin, sending racing shivers and goosebumps all along your arms. Something hot pulses beneath you, then Bo groans softly in your ear and rocks his hips, jostling you slightly. Before you can question him, even Kei is coming closer, brow pinched but with a look of yearning in his eyes that’s completely foreign on his familiar face. 

“Guys?” Your voice is breathy, confused, and you try to blink away the fog only to realize it’s not your vision that’s muddled. Your body feels heavy, sluggish, and some distant part of you is strangely fearful of how intense this particular high feels. 

Akaashi sighs, soft and chastising, cupping your cheek and coaxing you to face him once more. “I tried to warn you.” He murmurs, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip and testing it’s give before leaning in to kiss you.

It feels natural, at first. Akaashi is one of your best friends, and you’re a rather affectionate person even platonically, so it doesn’t strike you as odd. He kisses you with an ease that belies the desperate way he clings to you, his other hand lifting to cup your jaw and pull you in just a little closer, a moan muffled against your lips when he licks into your mouth and covers your tongue with the taste of salted popcorn. 

Then you feel the heat of Kuroo’s breath on your legs, working his way up from your knees to the hem of your shorts where he and Bo still have them bunched up between their hands. His eyes burn when he looks up at you, taking in the way you try to pull away from Akaashi’s kiss, your face panicked but not quite fearful, still lagging a little far behind even as he maps out the plush of your thighs with his mouth, teeth nipping and dragging until it feels as though you’re going to bruise everywhere he touches. 

“Hold on, wait…” You whine when Akaashi pulls you back in, mouth slotted over yours and swallowing your protests. Bokuto is rocking up against you, you realize, the hard press of his clothed cock rutting into your ass, grinding into you and muffling his voice against your shoulder. 

“Easy, Kou!” Kuroo laughs, pulling back so he can get a better look at you, the slackened weight of your body, limbs twitching but unable to find the strength to really move. Three edibles was definitely too much for you, but there’s no way to take it back, no way to dampen the effects. You’re stuck on a rollercoaster ride that’s way more intense than you bargained for, and there’s no exit in sight. 

You take advantage of the vacated space between your legs to snap them shut, knees pressed tightly together while you twist your face out of Akaashi’s gentle grip. 

“Don’t be like that.” Kuroo breathes, leaning up over your lap to try getting in your face, a grin unfurling across his lips when you jerk your head to the side to avoid his stare, to avoid Akaashi’s attempts at coaxing you back to him. Both desperate and eager, thinly veiled anticipation swelling behind a flimsy barrier of self-restraint.

But Kei is there to meet you, a hand at your jaw, he ignores your shaky whine of protest and pulls you in with unabashed want in his eyes, flushed high on his cheeks with color when his lips slant over yours. It’s a hungrier kiss than you’d have thought him capable of, hard and hot with greedy, wandering hands. He grips the back of your neck tight to keep you from ripping away, a shaky breath that warms your lips as he tilts his head, the sound muffled when he takes your mouth again. You feel lost in him, swept up in it even as a quiet part of you remains acutely aware of the eyes on you, refusing to allow you to fully submerge yourself in incoherence. 

Bo is at your neck, kissing, sucking, teeth scraping over sensitive skin while he rolls his hips into you, hands that are searing hot pulling you back on every upstroke so he can grind himself against you at his leisure. Everyone, everywhere, all of it at once stifling, the rough fingertips that drag over your bare skin, lips like velvet that drop kisses onto every bare inch of you within reach, the flicker of something silken that leaves a trail of wetness as it draws a path along the clothed apex of your thighs, as much as it can reach with the way you squeeze them so tightly together.

It’s too much. You feel like you’re burning all over, filled with puffy cotton and bees that buzz around inside your ribs and your skull. It’s hard to think, hard to move, like motion blur that’s happening in real life. 

You open your mouth to protest, or complain, anything that might voice your displeasure but then Tsukki is kissing you harder, slipping his tongue into your mouth and chasing the lingering taste of Akaashi’s popcorn. His teeth click against yours in his eagerness, desperate in how he tries to get as close as he can. It’s like the facade from before has completely dissolved, leaving something behind that you’re not sure you recognize.

You’ve never seen desire like this on his face before.  

Rough hands pry your thighs apart, a cheshire grin curling between them as Kuroo settles in the space there once more, eyes half-lidded and glassy with lust staining his cheeks pink. “Just wanna play with you a little, baby.” He breathes, mouthing hot kisses into your inner thighs, sucking bruises deep into the skin until you’re squirming. 

“Stop it, Kur–!” You try to protest, but your words are muffled around the tongue that fills your mouth, the fingers digging into your cheeks to hold you in place. Then Bo is hoisting you up a little, letting Kuroo slip your panties and shorts down your shaking legs. You try to kick out, to fight it, but your movements are slow and he catches you by the ankle easily, giving you a cheeky grin before hooking it over his shoulder and pressing a kiss there. 

He works his way up your leg that way, with kisses and sharp hisses of his teeth digging into your skin, his tongue laving over each bite as if that will soothe the pain. Bokuto settles you back against his chest, a large hand dipping down to cup your sex possessively, fingers curling to gently pull you apart and spread you a little wider for Kuroo’s greedy eyes. You try to buck away, but his other arm keeps you locked securely in his lap, sturdy and unmoving.

You feel a new sense of vulnerability that you’ve never felt with them before. Scared and scraped raw like an exposed nerve, shaking as Bo circles your clit with thick fingers. You aren’t very wet, but that doesn’t seem to deter him. Akaashi has just been watching, heavy-lidded with one arm draped across the back of the couch, leaning in close so he can see Tsukishima ravage your mouth, so he can watch Kuroo smother your legs with kisses and hickeys, rapt attention unwavering as Bokuto tries to coax arousal from the hot clench of your cunt.

You’re mortified when he succeeds, the sounds of his fingers gliding between your folds growing slick, louder, your hips twitching against your will. 

“Don’t fight it, sweet thing. Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel good, alright? Our girl is gonna have a real nice night.” Kuroo dips down to press one more kiss to the sensitive inside of your thigh, meant to soothe, to placate you, but you just won’t stay still.  

Despite the heavy, sluggish quality to your body, you don’t stop moving. Your hips buck, twist, you try to pull away from the iron arms encircling you from all sides, the lips that ruthlessly claim your mouth again and again every time you manage to get a sliver of space between you.

“Stay still! ” Bokuto groans, voice too thick for his throat, cracking as you continue to rub against his cock in your attempts to get away. He’s whining softly, rutting his hips into you, panting as he kisses along the back of your neck and your shoulders while rolling your clit between slick fingers. 

“Be patient, Bokuto.” Akaashi murmurs, tipping forward to leave his share of kisses along your neck, significantly more gentle than the bruises that Kuroo covers you with. “She’s high, you know she’s more sensitive like this.” 

Tsukishima mutters something into your mouth that sounds vaguely insulting, undeterred when you try again to break away with a loud cry. Once more he pulls you back in, once more he molds the plush of your lips to the shape of his own, and he sucks gently on your tongue in time with the swipe of Bo’s fingers over your clit. It hurts a little with how hard he kisses you, your mouth feeling raw and sensitive to the touch but every time you try to twist away, he only holds you tighter, kisses you harder. 

It’s too much. 

Your chest is heaving now, lashes fluttering as the thick blanket of your high threatens to overwhelm you completely, fracturing any coherent train of thought you try to cling to. Whenever you break the surface, someone is there to push you back under, to keep you contained in the fuzzy headspace that makes you physically pliant, even if your mouth still runs with protests whenever Kei lets you take a breath. 

“It’s been two hours, we’re sure it’s fully set in?” Kuroo asks, finally using his mouth for something other than marking you up. He rests his cheek on your knee, watching with slightly swollen lips curled into a smile as you begin lifting your hips to press against Bokuto’s hand, your brow a little furrowed as Tsukki tries to gentle his kiss, wanting you to reciprocate, needing to feel you kiss him back. 

“She was giggling during the music intermission.” Akaashi points out, slow and soft just below your ear, teeth scraping over the shell of it and making you keen. 

It’s a good enough assurance that they don’t bother to question it further.

Bo chuckles softly, nuzzling the nape of your neck in a gesture that would almost be tender if not for the cruel way he teases your cunt with his fingers, gathering your slick and rubbing circles into your clit with it. “See, baby? It’ll be okay, we’re gonna make you feel good and you won’t even have to remember any of this.” He croons, like that should be comforting to you.

But there's part of you, the small, fragile part of you that’s just coherent enough to understand what he’s saying, that’s just purely terrified.

You whine into Tsukki’s mouth, trembling as you try to force your body to cooperate, to fight back, to move . Pliant, soft, you’re molten in their hands no matter how you try to make yourself get away. Your hips buck, warmth building steadily between your thighs that you wish you could ignore. They work you over gently, insistently. Akaashi runs a hand through Kuroo’s hair, guiding him with a firm grip to move him closer until he’s mere inches from your drooling cunt. He makes a strangled noise that you feel against your slick skin, eyes hazy and half-lidded as he watches you begin to crumble.

It feels good, so much better than even if you were sober, everything feels more intense and it’s like Bo knows exactly how to touch you. 

Like he’s done this before. 

Something cold settles in your gut, hard like a chipped diamond. You whimper again, bringing your hands up slowly to press against Kei’s shoulders, though your effort is abysmally weak. 

Finally, he pulls away. Flushed, panting, glasses a little skewed with his honey eyes heavy-lidded and his pupils blown wide. He moves to cover one of your hands with his own, squeezing gently and bringing it to his lips to kiss your palm. 

It almost feels sweet, but then he’s kissing you again, swallowing your flimsy protest with a needy sound that strikes you hot like a match.

Then you’re being pulled back, a cool and soft hand guiding you by your jaw close enough for Akaashi to kiss you as well. It’s a little messy, the way two mouths like hot silk glide over yours, but something in it stirs heat in your belly, the gentle way Tsukki murmurs in your mouths and rubs your cheek with his thumb. It feels more intimate than it should, romantic in a strange way, even as you mewl and whimper and buck your hips, lost to it all.  

Kuroo groans, low in the back of his throat before he’s straightening up and drawing close enough that you try to break away, but Akaashi holds you firm, not letting you shy away from them, and he murmurs something that sounds like it might be meant as a reassurance, but the words are slick and sticky like syrup, filling your mouth with sugar but doing nothing to ease you beyond that. A hand cups the nape of Tsukishima’s neck, and then Kuroo drags him in for a kiss of his own, giving you just a little more space to breathe before it’s filled with Akaashi’s tongue. 

“Stop.” You whimper, muffled by silken lips, your thighs tensing as you try to move your legs, to kick against Kuroo’s grip in an attempt to gain some kind of leverage to push against, but he just keeps your leg locked tight against his shoulder while Bokuto holds the other one hooked over his knee, forcing you to spread wider until your hips start to burn. 

“But you’re so close, baby.” Bo coos, teasing and almost enamored when he asks– “Don’t you wanna cum? For me?” 

At his words, it seems like everything else comes to a halt, hands frozen in place and lips stilling against yours. Kuroo and Tsukishima separate, with the former leaning back far enough that he can watch, mesmerized, as Bokuto swirls glistening fingers over your clit, sloppy circles that only falter when your bucking hips throw off his rhythm. Akaashi helps to hold you down, keeping you from ruining your own orgasm despite how you practically wail in protest. 

“Close?” Kuroo breathes, eyes bright and wild with something frenzied. “Gonna cum for us, pretty? Want us to watch you cum?” He leans in, inches from your dripping, messy pussy, you can feel the warmth of his breath as he moans softly at the sight before one hand comes down hard on your thigh, a sharp slap that rips a cry from deep in your throat. 

Akaashi lets out a ragged sound and presses closer, panting softly as he reaches out to lay the flat of his palm across your throat. He applies no pressure, just curls his fingers loosely around your neck to feel the thrumming of your pulse and the noises you try to choke back, the vibrations he can feel but cannot hear. “Bokuto.” He rasps, hips twitching, and one of Kuroo’s hands slides up his thigh to palm the hard outline of his cock. It’s blissful, he nearly moans aloud at the relief. “Harder, a little harder.” It’s a soft command, and even unclear as to who he’s speaking to, both of them hurry to obey. 

Kuroo strokes him slowly through his slacks, though his eyes remain locked on your face, watching as your features begin to screw up in a weak attempt at staving off the pleasure foisted upon you. Futile, as Bo presses down just a little harder as Akaashi demanded, tight and measured circles that make you feel like you’re about to simultaneously melt and combust all at once. 

You nearly sob when the pressure between your thighs increases, building rapidly and crawling up from the base of your spine. “Please. ” You beg, voice scratchy and strained, eyes rolling back when it begins to ripple through you, the first flickering touch of your orgasm. 

“Oh, baby, don’t start begging yet.” Kuroo coos, sickly sweet. “We’ve barely started.” 

You’re horribly aware of their eyes on you when you cum, wishing you could drown it out, wishing you could pretend that it’s just you and some faceless figure bringing you to the brink in your inebriated state, but that’s not the case at all, they would never let you forget who is making you feel good. 

Kei is unmistakable, the tight way he squeezes your hand, the burning brand of his focus with you being the sole recipient of his attention. He’s coaxing you along, tipping your chin up to keep you from ducking your head to hide your face, forcing you to bare yourself to them as tears well up along your lashes, glittering.  

Akaashi is praising you. His face buried in your neck, the soft whisper of his moans an echo of his worship. “So beautiful.” He breathes, lips tracing the heady thrum of your pulse. “Look at you, you’re so good for us, so sweet. Do you like it? Does it feel good?” 

His voice drops, then, a low rasp. “ Tell me, tell me it feels good, love, tell me how Bokuto makes you feel.”

You can barely croak out a whimper, shuddering as Bo drags your orgasm out. It’s longer than you’ve ever made yourself cum before on your own, nearly overwhelming to the point of overstimulation even though it hasn’t even ended yet. Weaker, small tremors that flutter through your abdomen, muscles clenching and contracting around nothing, but still enough to leave you breathless and boneless. 

Kuroo shoves Bo’s hand out of the way, impatience rearing its head as he buries his face between your thighs. The slick glide of his tongue is a shock, drawing a sharp, shocked cry from your lips. He shuffles closer on his knees, hooking both your legs up high over his shoulders now while he loses himself in the sticky mess of your cunt, a moan muffled that sends vibrations all the way up your spine. 

You try to scramble away, the shock of oversensitivity bordering on sharp and painful, but Kuroo doesn’t let you move too much. Bokuto spreads your sex apart with his fingers, splitting you apart for the heat of Kuroo’s tongue to glide along the full length of your slit. You buck upwards on reflex, a moan catching in your throat when he meets you halfway, pressing you back down before you can try to squirm away from the greedy pull of his mouth. 

“Too much!” You choke, blinking back the sting of tears in your eyes, vision blurring sharply. His mouth is too hot, the pressure too much when he sucks on your clit. It’s surprisingly gentle, all things considered, but you’re three edibles deep and it’s still just too much.  

“You can take it, come on baby.” Bokuto encourages you with a warm kiss just below your ear, breaths heavy and thick as you rock back onto his cock, a steady circling of your hips that you’re not even aware of. 

Kuroo cradles you like you’re precious, hands gentle but unyielding while they grind your hips against his mouth, still firm with the way they hold you tight, lifting you to ride the flat of his tongue until your knees are shaking atop his shoulders. 

“She’s close already.” Kei breathes, then swallows a sharp noise when you squeeze his hand mindlessly, your eyes snapping to catch his gaze at the sound of his voice. 

Helpless, he leans in, his breath hitching when you tip your chin up to meet him in the middle. Your hips jerk once, a thick haze spilling over you like hot honey, and then you melt, molten beneath them as Kuroo brings you to the brink. It’s slower, this time, but it feels hotter, brighter, your body coiled up ready to snap with warm hands pressing all over you, bringing you back down when you arch off of Bo’s lap with a cry. 

Kei holds you to him, gasping into your mouth like he’s the one cumming instead of you. He cradles the back of your head lovingly, gentle in a way he’s never been with you before this. Part of you feels a stab of bitterness at the thought, but then he deepens the kiss and you can’t focus on anything else. When you press into it, he moans into you like you’ve just given him his first sip of water in the height of a draught. Even as you’re coming down from your second high, he’s only getting more amped up, harder and harder he kisses you, desperate, hips rocking against nothing in a fruitless pursuit of pleasure. 

Gentle fingers circle your clit, then, and your knees reflexively attempt to clamp shut. Kei nearly whines when you pry your lips apart, and the neediness of his voice would have given you pause if not for the firm insistence of the hand between your legs.  

“Akaashi!” You whine, jerking away when he strokes along the slick glide of your sex. It’s too raw, too sensitive, his touch burns but he leans towards you with a soft murmur and presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“Don’t worry, love.” He hums, tilting his body further inwards to face you, kissing you again to distract you when he slowly pushes a single finger inside of you. It’s easy, the way you seem to suck him in, and his moan is breathy when you tighten up around him. “Still feels good, right?” 

It doesn’t, but he pulls his wrist back slowly, and this time when he presses in it’s with two fingers, crooking gently once he’s all the way inside. 

Slow, methodical, his fingertips ghost over the spot that makes you squirm and his lips quirk into half a smile. “See? You can give us more like this, right?” 

No. No you cannot. You’re sure of it, even as he begins to fuck you slowly, the slick sounds making your face burn with shame even still flushed hot from your high. Already, you can feel your legs twitching, a steady, practiced build that pulls a sob deep from your chest. 

“Please.” You babble, tears welling along your lash line. “Please, it’s too much, ‘Kaashi. Too much. Hurts.” 

To your surprise, he actually listens to you, slowing down and pressing his forehead to yours in a gesture that should be comforting, but isn’t. “How bad?” He asks, and Bokuto reaches around to tilt your face up so he can look at you properly, twin expressions of worry that feel out of place with how they’ve been treating you. 

You swallow, for a minute unable to catch your breath, hiccuping around the sobs that you try desperately to stifle. Akaashi croons, slipping his fingers out of you and pulling you close with his other hand. He strokes your spine and kisses all over your face, tasting the salt of your tears on your skin before kissing you once more on the lips with a strange sense of finality. 

As if responding to an unspoken order, Kuroo gets up, and then Bo is lifting you, gently, standing with you held securely in his arms. For the first time tonight you find yourself really looking at him, his flushed face and glassy gold eyes that are dark with blown out pupils. He smiles at you, bringing you closer while leaning his head down to kiss you languidly on the mouth. It’s chaste compared to how Akaashi and Tsukki had bullied you with kisses earlier, but you’re not fooled by the thin veil of sweetness. There’s still tension thick in his muscles, you can feel it in the way he strains to hold himself in check, some non-verbal rule keeping him from acting on whatever pent up desires he’s harboring. 

They take you to your room, with Kei stopping by the kitchen to get a glass of warm water. 

Bokuto lays you down on your bed gently, with Akaashi pulling up a cool sheet over you and brushing the hair from your forehead. Kuroo crawls beneath the covers beside you, pulling you in until your back hits his chest and your curled body is snugly tucked into the space he creates when he wraps himself around you. 

For a moment, you think it’s over. You think that maybe they’re actually backing off, and maybe you can go to sleep and forget any of this ever happened. 

Then Kei crawls onto the bed with you, pushes the sheet up your body until it’s bunched over your stomach, and then parts your thighs slowly to settle between them. He’s broad, forcing your hips to stretch wide just to accommodate him, but the pain of it lessens when he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and uses it as leverage to pull you closer. 

The first gentle lap of his tongue is almost too light for you to feel, lost in the muddled haze that’s trying to pull you to sleep. But he does it again, and again, soft little licks against your sore clit, fingers pressed into the plush of your thighs to keep them open. You try to squirm away, but Kuroo shushes you, one hand sliding from your hip up along your ribs, gathering the material of your shirt and pushing it up. 

“At least let her drink the water you brought for her.” Akaashi sighs, apparently the only remaining voice of reason, and reaches down to lift your head up, tipping the cold glass against your kiss-bruised lips. 

You whimper softly in protest, but even the room temperature liquid feels like ice against your parched throat, soothing the discomfort that felt like sand spilling into your lungs. You drain the whole glass, and then Bokuto is leaning in over Akaashi, pressed against his back to take the cup from him. 

“Do you want more?” He asks, achingly sweet, and were it not for Kei’s head buried between your thighs and Kuroo’s hands cupping your breasts, it would almost feel domestic the way they’re taking care of you. 

“I want you to stop.” You breathe, your chest heaving once when a gentle pressure pulls at your clit. Unthinking, you look down to catch Kei’s gaze, with his half-lidded eyes and glasses pushed atop his head to keep his bangs out of the way. He muffles a moan against you and shoves himself a little more insistently between your legs, trying to crawl as close as possible without being inside of you. For now. 

“Don’t want to.” He mumbles, even knowing your statement had been directed towards Bokuto. It doesn’t really hurt, he’s lapping at you with such little force behind each glide of his tongue, it just feels hot and wet, slippery as your arousal begins to smear along his face and the insides of your thighs. He’s making a mess, but it doesn’t seem like he even cares enough to notice, small little noises that you can’t hear spilling from his lips directly into the sticky folds of your cunt. 

You feel it begin to build slowly, and you nearly sob at the first tremor of pleasure that rolls through your body. Your face screws up, the muscles in your abdomen coiled taut in an attempt to stave it off, but the edibles betray you. You’re pliant, sensitive, and no matter how you try to shift or move to escape, there’s a pair of hands waiting to keep you pinned down, forcing you to simply endure . 

You’re slack, languid beneath them when Akaashi moves down the bed to join Kei between your legs. They’re stretched as wide as they can go, your hips burning, the leg previously draped over Kei quickly moved to Akaashi’s shoulder instead to make room for him, with the other held in Kuroo’s grasp to open you up just a little more.  

Bokuto takes the chance to kiss you, displeased that he hasn’t had the chance to do it as much as the others.  It’s messier, his tongue eager as it explores your mouth, slick fingers curled beneath your chin to tip your face this way and that, changing the angle as it pleases him. 

Akaashi is gentle when he presses his fingers into you again, unperturbed by the wet passing of Kei’s tongue. You squirm, whining at the brief flare of something sharp and sensitive, but Bo murmurs into your mouth to try and distract you, to placate you. 

Kuroo is content to watch, grinding lazily against your ass while palming the soft swell of your breasts, the rough pads of his fingertips ghosting over your nipples to make you quiver. You’re caged in on all sides, the stimulation is almost overwhelming, and yet as close as you teeter along the edge of too much, they don’t actually cross it this time. Akaashi’s fingers grind gently into your sweet spot, and then he’s up, leaning across your torso where Kuroo meets him half-way for a kiss, but he doesn’t stop fucking into you even still.

You’re a little dazed at the sight of them, delirious from the intensity of it all, watching as Kuroo fists a hand in Akaashi’s hair and yanks on it, dragging a moan from the man with his fingers buried in your cunt. He pulls harder, swallowing each little noise Akaashi makes with an echoing moan of his own. It’s surreal, and then Bo nips at your lips with his teeth in a bid for your attention, muffling a whine by sucking the tip of your tongue into his mouth. 

Bo tastes sweet, like some of the cherry flavored candy he’d stolen from you earlier, and your mind tilts on its axis at the dizzying thought that you’ve kissed 3 of your best friends in one night.

“Can taste her on you.” Akaashi murmurs into Kuroo’s mouth, voice thick and hoarse with arousal. His fingers crook sharply, driving into you a little harder, the sound loud and messy even over the ringing in your ears, the buzz and the layers of fluffy, dreamy cotton. 

Bokuto groans softly and pulls away from you, a sticky, wet sound that makes you flinch when you part, and the saliva on your lips cools rapidly, strings of it connecting you still. He grins, a dopey sort of smile, before he’s leaning across you towards Kuroo. “Let me taste it.” He pleads softly, eagerly, as polite as you’ve ever heard him. Akaashi moves first, with a smile, guiding Bo in by the jaw to join their kiss. 

You wonder if you’re dreaming at this point, if you passed out somewhere along the way and this is just a strange figment of your imagination that the edible has conjured. You watch, enraptured by the sight of them kissing above you, pulling each other in by fistfuls of hair and muffling the soft moans that threaten to spill free. 

Kei suckles gently on your clit, the first sharp stimulation he’s given you, and your back arches high off the bed, though it’s quickly pushed down by a random pair of hands. You can’t even tell who’s touching you anymore, it’s all blurring together. Unbidden, you reach down to tangle your fingers into his hair, blonde silk wrapped around your hand tight enough that when you tug, he gasps. His hips grind hard into the bed when you pull on it, swallowing back another moan when you keep pulling until you have his attention. He gives it to you, eyes glassy but ultimately entirely focused on your face. 

“Tsukki…” You whine, rolling your hips and keening when he holds the flat of his tongue steady for you to grind against. “Gentle…” 

You can feel the way he grins, the shaky breath he lets out at your acquiescence. As if, in some twisted way, he takes this as permission granted.

“Okay.” He agrees, barely audible. “Gentle.” 

Though you hadn’t thought they were paying attention, Akaashi slows down as well, massaging the gummy spot inside of you instead of fucking into it. His fingers are so long and lithe, cool before but now warmed and slick from being buried inside the needy squeeze of your cunt. 

Impossibly, they manage to wring one more orgasm from your tired, buzzing body. The three of them separate when Kei murmurs aloud that you’re getting close, with Bokuto returning to your side and Akaashi retaking his spot between your legs. Kuroo snuggles into your back, cooing sweetly in your ear and helping you grind into Kei’s mouth by pushing into your hips with his own, purring out praise while watching you ride the slick heat of his tongue. 

You move along with him mindlessly, allowing Kuroo to grind into your ass so he can control the pace for you. Kei squeezes your hips with fingers that tremble, his voice pitching a little higher when Kuroo has you fucking yourself on his tongue. He presses his mouth to you with a near whine, brows knitted tight together as he begins rutting against the bed in earnest, unable to help himself when he can tell that you’re seconds from cumming in his mouth. 

“Wanna cum, pretty?” Bo asks, pitching forward with his knees digging into the mattress, bowed over you and caging both you and Kuroo in with his arms. This time he gets to see up close, he gets to watch your face when you cum. As much as he loved being able to feel the full-body tremors that ripple through you while you squirmed on his lap, he missed the sight of your pretty face all twisted up in pleasure.  

You don’t answer, can’t answer. Your tongue feels heavy, leaden with honey and sugar, candied. The bees are louder, buzzing bright in your arms and your head, drowning out nearly everyone else. It feels like you’re on fire, and any protests that might have lingered, any desire to stop, all of it falls away. 

They can see it, the way you melt, the way you lean in to silently ask for a kiss from Bo, the way your free hand dips to catch Akaashi by the jaw, stroking the cut of it with gentle, but clumsy fingers. Kuroo grins when he feels you begin to rock back against him, torn between grinding into his cock and fucking yourself against Kei’s tongue. 

“That’s it…” He breathes, calcite eyes bright in the dim lighting of your room. “Let go, baby. We’ve got you, go ahead and get nice and sweet for us.” 

You pull away from Bokuto, breathless, glassy-eyed when you turn to face Kuroo, twisting in his arm just enough that you can reach him easily. It’s difficult, and a little awkward, but Kei has a bruising grip on your thighs that keeps you from turning onto your back. Kuroo smiles at you, a little questioningly, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek and slowing the forceful push of his hips to give you a chance to speak.  

“Kiss?” You murmur, your voice catching when Bo’s head dips down to litter kisses atop your breasts, lashes fluttering as another pulse of hot pleasure courses through you. You know you shouldn’t be asking for this, but you can’t think of anything beyond wanting to feel good, the mindless pursuit of all of the pleasure that they’re willing to give you. You don’t care about why it’s happening anymore, that they weren’t giving you a choice, the only thing that matters is how they’re making you feel. 

He groans quietly and props himself up to lean over you. “I would love nothing more.” 

Kuroo’s kiss is intense, the way he squeezes your cheek with one hand, pulling you into him with a soft, aching noise muffled against your lips. He swallows your cries when you try to babble out that you’re going to cum, tasting the lingering flavors mingling from all the other kisses you’ve shared tonight with the others and steadfastly ignoring your pitching voice. You pull harder on Kei’s hair, feeling him groan against you before one of his hands wraps around yours, coaxing you into doing it again. You do, fisted at the roots and trying to drag him closer even though there’s nowhere left for him to go. 

“You’ll make him cum by doing that.” Kuroo croons, both a warning and a tease. “Careful, baby, Tsukki likes when you get rough with him, lets him know that he’s making you feel good.” 

In response, Kei lets out a whine into your pussy, muffled but high and needy, desperation raw on his face as he looks up at you through sunkissed lashes. It’s so unlike him, so different from the passive looks he’d given you earlier, disinterest feigned from across the room. Akaashi twists his wrist, fingers curling inwards until your back is bowing off the mattress and Bo has to pin you back down. He grins, head cocked, blue eyes glinting as he lowers his mouth to lap at your clit, and Kei stops just long enough to share a kiss with him before they take turns mouthing at your twitching cunt. 

You break, coiled taut like a rusted spring that snaps against the pressure. 

Bo sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth when you cum, feeling the way you twitch and spasm in his arms, watching your legs quiver with the effort of straining to slam shut, only kept apart by the two men sprawled between them and the hand keeping one hitched up to the side. He watches with pinpricked eyes as Kuroo’s tongue glides into your mouth, opening you up so that they can hear the way you murmur and gasp with pleasure as you ride it out.

They guide you through your orgasm slowly, gentle fingers and eager tongues, with Bokuto and Kuroo alternating between kissing you and each other, and with Kei and Akaashi trading off between suckling gently at your clit while the latter continues to abuse your sweet spot with his fingers. You’re spinning, floating, cradled along the surface of the ocean as you begin to lose the sense of whose hands are on you. Faceless, formless, little more than the pressure that bleeds hot and sweet between your thighs. 

It takes you a long time to come down, to come to, with saccharine lips pressing small kisses into your hair and all over your face. There are slick, steady fingers still grinding into you slowly, less for the sake of pleasure and more to offer a push and pull that you follow mindlessly with your hips, and when your eyes flutter open you find Bo waiting with a small smile. It widens when you look up at him, then dims as he lowers himself to kiss you. 

“Do you need a break, love? That seemed like a bit much.” Akaashi asks in a quiet murmur, carefully pulling his fingers out of you and scooting further up the bed, straddling one of your thighs while reaching to cup your face and tip it towards him so he can see you better, hooded navy eyes almost deceptively sleepy as they take you in.

Bo catches Akaashi’s wet hand by the wrist, humming as he brings it towards his mouth, the pink of his tongue startlingly bright when it flicks out to glide along his middle finger to gather the lingering taste of your arousal. You can’t even muster the sense of self to be embarrassed, too far immersed and merely coasting along the line of consciousness, but Kuroo groans quietly at the sight and you feel him throbbing against you. Akaashi kisses you, cradling your jaw with his free hand since the other is currently occupied. You taste yourself on his lips, his tongue, though the potency has lessened with all of his shared kisses.

Kei sits up, absentmindedly wiping his mouth on his shoulder while watching you, flushed and with mussed up hair, his glasses all tangled up in it. Kuroo snickers, reaching out to gently remove the frames from atop his head and setting them safely on the nightstand on his side of the bed. 

For a moment, they do let you breathe. Bokuto leaves to get you all some water, Akaashi helps you drink it, and Kei lays between your legs with his head resting on your stomach, pressing tender kisses into your skin to soothe you, mindful of the way you twitch and convulse beneath his weight. 

It’s comforting, in a way, and almost enough to make you forget how all of this started in the first place.

Then Bokuto is moving, kissing you once on the lips before withdrawing from your side to stand at the foot of your bed. Your eyes flutter open when Kei lets out a strangled, high-pitched noise, and you look up to see Bo dragging him back by the hips until he’s propped up on his elbows and knees, scowling but painfully hard, a dark stain spreading out from his crotch from where he’d been rubbing against your sheets while eating you out. All the friction has bunched up the material of his sweats, and the head of his cock pokes out from the waistband with a thick drop of prespend beading at the tip. He looks at you, sees you staring, and chokes on a noise caught between embarrassment and yearning. 

“Come on, might as well give her a show while she’s taking a break.” Bokuto grins, a little wolfish as he grinds his hips hard into Kei’s, rutting shamelessly as greedy hands pull at his waist to yank him back on every forward thrust. Kei's jaw is gritted, flushed to the temples as he tries to avoid spilling too early when Bo tugs his cock free, though he can’t help fucking into the tight clench of his fist despite himself. 

“Look at that, you got him all worked up, pretty.” Kuroo murmurs, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Never seen him act like such a slut, I guess he couldn’t hold back anymore.”

Akaashi kisses you once, hot and thorough as he licks the seam of your lips until you part for him. But it doesn’t last long, he pecks you once more, and then Kuroo, before he’s sliding off of the bed to help Bokuto strip Kei down, gentle hands followed by quick kisses after each article of clothing is removed. 

Kei is flustered, you note distantly, some far off part of you recognizing his embarrassment. Flushed and pointedly avoiding your gaze, his eyes stubbornly locked onto your sheets, the muscles in his arms tensing as he holds himself up. You’re enamored with this new side of him, the greed and the surprising shyness both.

Acting on impulse, you scoot further down to join them at the foot of the bed, slipping beneath where Kei is bent over with your legs spread around his parted knees, his hands fisted in the sheets above your shoulders. Bo, leaning over his back, grins down at you and blows you a kiss that seems nearly comical despite the situation. 

Then again, you’ve completely lost touch with how the situation is supposed to feel to begin with, perhaps it’s not comical at all. You loop your arms around Kei’s neck, shivering when Bokuto dips down to kiss your fingers sweetly. 

Akaashi takes your spot at the head of the bed, curled against your pillows and leaning into Kuroo’s arms, the two sharing slow, lazy kisses while watching the three of you through foggy eyes. 

Weight presses down on you when Kei’s arms buckle, a sharp moan spilling across your clavicle when Bo begins working him open with slick, thick fingers. His hips rock slowly against nothing, back curved into a pretty arch with a heavy hand pressed into his lower back. He kisses you, messily, a smear of lips and tongue leaving a path of heat from your mouth down between your breasts. 

Then he’s cupping the sides of your head, caging you in with his arms as he leans in to kiss you properly. He uses you to muffle the way he cries out at the first press of Bokuto’s cock, burning hot even through the condom wrapped around him. You’re a little dizzy, shocked at this version of Kei, wanton in a way you’ve never seen. His lips are shiny and a little swollen from the force of his kisses, face flushed as though he’d sprinted a marathon, a light sheen of your arousal covering his cheeks down to his jaw. Between your bodies, his cock twitches when he realizes you’re just staring at him, and the little noise that he lets out when he breaks away from you is addictive. High and sweet, so unlike your Kei that you feel enamored with it, wanting him to make that sound again. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” He breathes, pants against your lips, brow furrowed in an expression tinged with shame and excitement as he tries to avert his eyes. 

“But you’re so pretty, Kei.” You murmur, voice cracked and whispery, the first words you’ve managed to choke out in what feels like hours. It’s sweet praise, and you find yourself tangling your fingers into his hair to pull on it the way you now know he likes, a twist and a tug until his head snaps back and his whole body shudders above you. His eyes blow wide, and Bo is the only one who gets to watch the way his pupils bloom and contract wildly. 

“F-fuck!” He gasps, hips canting back to meet Bokuto’s thrusts, his cock throbbing weakly as it bobs in the air just above your stomach. Pearly fluid beads at the tip, dribbling down the thick shaft with every dry thrust of his hips into nothing, swaying every time Bo’s hips slap against his ass. You can’t look away, even when he tries to cover your eyes with a shaky hand, it’s easily knocked to the side by Kuroo, who has shuffled forward to kneel beside the two of you. He and Bo share a look, mischief lurking in twin pools of honey, before his attention is on you. 

He presses a kiss to Kei’s shoulder, though his eyes are on you when he asks– “How about we help him with that, baby? Wanna?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, fingers lacing with yours before bringing your hand up to meet hot, slick flesh. Kei is like a brand against your palm, twitching at your touch and dripping with the pre that’s steadily dribbled out of him ever since he first got to put his hands on you. 

“Kuroo–you– fuck !” Kei groans when Kuroo tightens his grip, forcing the clench of your fingers to wrap around him snugly, so tight that he has to rely on Bo’s hard, punched out thrusts to force his cock into your fist. 

“There we go.” Akaashi’s voice is closer than you expect, you hadn’t even felt the mattress shifting beneath him as he moved. “Doesn’t that feel better, Kei?” 

He kneels at your side on the floor, eye-level and watching aptly as your thighs begin to twitch, with you attempting to rub them together to alleviate the ache building deep in your belly. He doesn’t miss the way you begin to rock against nothing, though the whole of your attention is on the man hovering over you, the way his face screws up tight, the sweat dripping down his neck. 

You pull him down by his hair so you can follow a droplet of sweat with your tongue as it rolls down the column of his throat, squeezing his cock a little tighter and rubbing your thumb against the drooling slit as you taste the salt of his skin, tracing its path back up the arch of his throat to his jaw. He gasps, his hips stuttering, and then Bokuto lets out a breathy laugh and starts fucking him harder. 

“What’s got you all tight like that, Tsukki?” He teases, setting a bruising pace that doesn’t seem to affect him nearly as much as it should. He’s flushed, sweaty, but his eyes are bright and he shows no signs of fatigue, no signs of slowing down. Still, he claws at Kei’s waist with mounting desperation, moaning freely and loudly as he pulls even harder on his hips, dragging him back onto his cock a little rougher each time.

You’ve always thought Bokuto was attractive, but you’ve never seen him quite like this. Primal, in a sense, lost to his passions and swept up in them without a thought to repercussions or the aftermath. He uses Kei almost like a toy, a bruising grip on his hips, thoughtlessly shoving the blonde’s legs further apart with his knees to finetune the position however he wants. Dominant in a way that isn’t aggressive, he handles control like a well-worn tool that fits perfectly in his hand. 

And he is controlling, even blissed out and near incoherent, you can tell that much. If he thinks Kei is getting too greedy, he slows down, until his gentle thrusts aren’t even enough to force Kei’s cock through your fist, waiting until his voice begins to pitch high with tangible desperation to go faster. If either of them start to get close, he stops completely, tracing the graceful arch of his spine with kisses to distract them both from the way Bo throbs, hot and thick inside of him. He controls how much pleasure Kei receives, and while there’s not a single person in your room that could be considered weak, Bokuto is physically the most capable. There’s no fighting back against him when there’s something he wants. 

“K–Kou fuck, slow do–wn!!” Kei hisses, jaw clenched so tight that he looks like he’s in pain. His arms brace against the sides of your head, fisting the sheets and pulling as if that will give him any amount of leverage, but with Kuroo using your hand to stroke his cock, and with Bo drilling into his prostate, he’s overwhelmed and outnumbered.  

And Kuroo is all too happy to quicken the pace as well, forcing you to stroke Kei on the same beat that Bo fucks into him, speeding up and slowing down at his whim while steadfastly ignoring the way it makes him cry. 

The two of them working in sync should be setting off warning bells, nothing good ever comes from their cooperation, but all you can focus on is how pretty Kei looks when he’s like this, when his whole body is quivering from the onslaught of pleasure attacking him on all sides.

“Close!” He grits out, helpless but to continue fucking the tight squeeze of your fist, his chest heaving at the overwhelming stimulation, breath catching in his lungs and coming up ragged, torn. Part of you feels vindicated, in a way, watching the tears that bead along his lashes, the high flush that bleeds all the way down to his chest, the way it’s clearly both too much for him and not enough. 

His head dips, forehead bumping against yours as his body is rocked to the rhythm of Bokuto’s thrusts. “Please. ” He whispers, as softly as possible, for only you to hear. Then he tips his chin up, lips seeking yours, and you let him kiss you to muffle any pretty noises that try to slip free. 

Kei is silent when he finally cums, more of his weight pressing down on you when he can no longer support himself, thrusting weakly into your hand with Kuroo keeping the pace, forcing him to take it faster than he wants. It’s when the sensitivity hits that he starts to make noise, whining into your mouth and trying to shy away from your hand, then hissing when that only pushes him back onto Bo’s cock. There’s nowhere for him to run, forced to take everything that he’s given even when it becomes too much.

His whole body shakes with the force of it, broad and hot and pinning you down into the mattress as he ruts forward uncontrollably, aided by the force of the hard thrusts fucking him open that threaten to render him just as boneless as you, just as pliant. 

His cum is liquid fire as it paints your stomach, hot and dripping down your ribs to seep into your sheets. He licks into your mouth, and you can taste yourself on him when he does, when he sucks at the very tip of your tongue before you feel the teasing bite of teeth. You whine, back arching, and he lets out a hoarse chuckle as though he isn’t bent over you, still filled thick with Bokuto, as if he isn’t on the verge of tears himself from all of the pleasure.  

He throbs in your hand, softening against your palm even though he continues to rut against it, though whether or not it’s of his own initiative or Bokuto’s, you can’t really tell. 

Cold fingertips brush over your stomach, catching you off guard and alerting you to the fact that Akaashi is now leaning with his elbows pressed into the mattress, closer, heavy-lidded and flushed to the chest while watching the four of you. You swallow hard at the sight of him, the predatory glint in his eyes, the way he seems to smirk beneath the shadow cast over the lower half of his face. “Miss me? You look like you’re having fun, love.” He coos, fingers dipping into the pooling cum on your belly, smearing the thick liquid around and then guiding some of it up to your lips. You part for him thoughtlessly, mindlessly obedient as he presses down on your tongue. The taste of salt and something a little bitter fills your mouth, but it’s not unpleasant, and the look on Kei’s face while he watches you swallow it almost makes you wish you could take a picture. 

“Good girl.” Akaashi hums, and something in you swells at the praise. He does it again, though this time he’s kissing you before you can swallow, licking into your mouth where the cum has pooled and mixed with your saliva. It should be gross, it probably is gross, but then he’s smiling down at you and petting your hair and you’ve completely lost most of your inhibitions anyway, what’s one more?

Kei’s head falls against your shoulder, letting out a hoarse cry and fucking his hips forward to rut his cock against your palm. You realize, a tad late, that Kuroo hasn’t let up, using you to continue stroking even after Kei had finished. Previously softened and spent, he’s thickened out to fill the grip of your fist once more, throbbing like he’s already on the edge.  

“Come on, Tsukki.” Kuroo croons, voice dripping with something both saccharine and mocking. “Our pretty girl gave us three of those, you can give us one more, right?” 

Sparks light up in your abdomen, muscles tightening, your thighs instinctively trying to rub together even though they’re parted wide around the blonde atop of you, and Akaashi gives a small, dark grin when he sees the shock of want in your eyes. You’re blind to it, drawn in helplessly by the way Kei squirms and writhes over you, resting his forehead against your shoulder with his upper body pinning you down, the only thing keeping him up being the unrelenting grip Bokuto has on his hips.  

“Fuck her, Kei.” 

Bokuto and Kuroo stop in sync, causing Kei to choke out a sob of relief that he muffles against your neck. You flex your fingers sluggishly, sore from being squeezed so tightly for so long. Three pairs of eyes are locked onto Akaashi, a silent question hanging in the air while you distract yourself with trying to regain feeling in your static-laden arms. He smiles, tips his head towards you as if that would help them see what he has.

A fruitless gesture, Akaashi is better at reading your body language than anyone. 

When that doesn’t clarify anything for them, Akaashi elaborates with a small, fondly exasperated sigh. “She wants Kei to fuck her.” 

It clicks, and Kuroo’s answering smile is almost evil. “Oh does she?” He squeezes your hand tightly, something hard glinting in his eyes when Kei gasps out a strangled moan. “She wants him to fuck her while his cock is all raw like that? What a mean girl we have.”  

The flush from Kei’s face seems to pale, though he throbs lewdly against your hand despite the panic. “I can’t, not yet, I’m still too sensitive.” He protests, but he bites his lip, chews on it while his eyes dip down to the sticky folds of your cunt, looking like there isn’t a single thing in the world he wants more than to bury himself to the hilt inside of you.

Bokuto practically purrs, a low and sensual noise as he rolls his hips, the promise of even more pleasure driving him to keep fucking into the writhing body pinned beneath him. “I think it’s a great idea.” He grins, crooked, eyes half-lidded but far from glassy. “Don’t you wanna feel good, Tsukki? Wanna feel our princess all wrapped around you?”

Before Kei can answer, Kuroo cuts in smoothly, voice like hot velvet and chocolate. “If you don’t want to be the first to fuck her, I’ll gladly take your place.” 

If you were at all coherent, you might be able to feel the temperature drop, the tension spiking to dangerous levels, the way Kei’s eyes narrow to slits and Kuroo grins like a cheshire cat. 

You blink up at them when Akaashi tilts your face up, owl-eyed and dazed, struggling to break through the thick fog to process what they’re talking about. You’re too far gone, though, slipping deeper into a heavy, fuzzy space, blanketed with something warm and plush that is doubly reinforced by your high. 

“She’s never been in this deep before.” Kuroo muses, rubbing a thumb over your cheek and marveling at the instinctive way you turn to glance at him, your mouth parting when the digit grazes over your bottom lip. He coos, soft, and dips down to take advantage by kissing you. 

Akaashi’s voice turns from silken to sour. “I tried to warn her that taking three was too much, but she never listens to me.” 

Bo grins, bright and sunny, but the words that fall from his lips are anything but. “If she didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to do this though! So it’s like, making the best of a bad situation, right?” 

Chuckling softly, Kuroo guides your hand to bring the slick head of Kei’s cock to the messy, dripping heat of your cunt, tapping it against your clit and groaning when it comes away with thick strings of your arousal still attached. Kei hisses between clenched teeth and claws at the bed, pulling at the sheets until they’re longer tucked neatly beneath your mattress, forced to endure as Kuroo plays with the slick drooling from your pussy and his cock.

Tap, tap, tap. Over and over, with Akaashi watching intently to see how far away Kei’s cock can get before the glistening strands of fluid snap. Toying with you, toying with Kei, though you’re too far gone to realize it, focusing instead on the myriad of expressions flashing over his face. 

Annoyance is prevalent, but far overshadowed by lust, embarrassment, his eyes darting back and forth between your face and the fuckery going on between your legs. He likes looking at it, you can tell, but it gets him worked up too quickly so he can’t let himself stare for long. 

The first press of the blunt head sinking into you is easy, made so by the copious amounts of arousal and spit that have long since cooled. Kei lets out a loud, relieved moan as Kuroo guides him into you, hands balled into fists with his brows drawn low, the space between his knees widening as he uses them to shove yours further apart. 

It’s slow at first , but then Bokuto readjusts his grip on Kei’s hips, bends down to leave a trail of kisses along his spine, and then he snaps forward in a single thrust that ends with both of you being filled to the brim, all the way to the hilt in one fluid stroke. 

Your eyes roll back, a hard shudder wracking your body as you scrabble for something to cling to with a scream catching in your throat. Akaashi meets you, clasping your hands with his and bringing them back to pin against the mattress above your head, forcing your back into a gentle arch. 

“Kou!” You wail, teary eyes glaring up him before your lashes flutter when Kei begins to grind into you, circling his hips to try and fuck you as well as he can while being pinned between two bodies.  

He’s no better off, broad shoulders trembling as he bows over you, trying in vain to muffle his voice by kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of your throat, though it only makes him sound even needier, the way he mewls and whines while sucking a burgundy mark over your rapid pulse.

Bokuto laughs, breathless, and leans back on his heels so he can watch the two of you squirm. “Yeah, baby?” He asks, all sweet spun sugar and puffy clouds. “Whaddya want? More? You want more?” 

You try to shake your head, the room spinning dangerously when you do, but you’re wholly ignored. Bokuto fucks into Kei faster, harder, pinning him down against you and leaving you both with little more to do than just lay there and take it. 

It feels so good , though. It’s more of a grind, because Bo won’t let Kei pull back far enough to actually thrust into you, and you can feel the first flickers of a budding orgasm race up your spine even though you’d thought yourself incapable of cumming again. 

Kei isn’t doing nearly as well. He’s clinging to you, moaning into the hollow of your throat while trying to roll his hips, his cock aching for more friction than either of you are giving him. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, the blush staining his skin a mottled red bordering on scarlet. When he looks at you, it’s with an expression nearly as lost as your own, glassy and distant, though he doesn’t have the comforting haze of a high to cradle him. It’s all agonizing pleasure, the hard pound of Bo’s cock digging into his prostate, the wet, clingy grip of your pussy wrapped around him, and even though he’s this sore he feels like he might die if he doesn’t cum inside of you.

You tip your head back, your lashes fluttering as you try to blink through the haze to find who you’re looking for and Kuroo is there to meet you, checking in while Akaashi coos and kisses all over Kei. 

“You okay?” He asks, nosing into your jaw and kissing you there. “What do you need, baby? Water?” 

You dip your chin to try and catch his mouth, and his laughter is muffled when you succeed. His fingers thread gently into the hair at the nape of your neck, using it to guide you into the kiss, the only thing keeping you steady while Bokuto indirectly jostles your body with the force of his thrusts. It feels like you’re made of air. Incorporeal, barely a concept despite the burning pleasure pulsing between your thighs, the only thing to keep you even semi-coherent. The pleasure is the only thing that’s tangible, and they show no signs of letting up any time soon. 

Akaashi and Kuroo trade places, or rather, they change who they’re being sweet on. Kuroo cups Kei’s face gently, thumbs swiping over teary cheeks and kissing him soundly, though instead of letting him stifle his pretty voice like you were, Kuroo licks into his mouth to keep it open, each needy whine and gasp plainly audible even over the harsh slap of skin on skin. 

Cool lips ghost along your sweaty temple, shocking and grounding you with the abrupt change in temperature, the fingers pressing your wrists into the mattress are massaging your hands gently, keeping you from slipping too far into some off-strung abyss. 

When you tilt your head back in an open invitation to ask wordlessly for a kiss, Akaashi lowers himself to you easily, parting your lips with a flick of his tongue and then drinking in the soft noises you make when Kei’s cock is grinded into you. Greedy, he tightens his hold on your wrists and pins them down a little harder, even though in your current state there’s no real hope of you resisting. It’s the feeling that he’s addicted to, holding you down, knowing intrinsically that you’re completely at his mercy, he revels in it. 

But when he kisses you, there’s none of that. He keeps it contained in his hands, his eyes, the heavy throb of his cock as it strains against the material of his boxers, but you can’t feel any of it. His lips on yours are silken, a caress, you’d be tempted to think it loving if you could think at all.

It’s nice, pleasant, but then Kuroo is taking advantage of your faintly arched back by shoving a pillow beneath your hips to prop you up a little more. The change in angle is staggering, and Kei swears out loud when you start to clench up around him, the head of his cock practically glued to that gummy spot on your inner walls, and each hard thrust from Bokuto makes you keen. 

“There it is.” Kuroo purrs, leaning back into your space to cup Akaashi’s jaw, sharing a kiss that is much sweeter than they gave either of you.

“Holy fuck I think I’m gonna cum.” Bokuto rasps, groaning softly and pressing his forehead into Kei’s back, his pace stuttering as he tries staving off his orgasm. “So good, so good. ” 

His head falls back, throat bobbing obscenely around a hard swallow, bangs falling in his face from where the gel keeping his hair spiked had begun to dissolve. He looks disheveled, flushed all the way down to his chest, but still he’s the only one who’s eyes remain crystal clear. Bo is entirely alert, even while utterly wrecking Kei, and you by proxy, he’s in complete control of himself.

Which is why he slows to a stop, not to edge himself, but to grab Kei by the hips and yank him backwards, forcing him to support his own weight with his elbows bracketing you in, then pushing forward, again and again, back and forth to force Kei into fucking the two of you instead. Every time he’s pulled back, the slick, greedy pull of your pussy tries to suck him back in, and when he’s shoved forward to the hilt inside of you, Bo unconsciously seeks him out, thrusting forward and disrupting the rhythm, and then it repeats. 

Bokuto’s focus is on you while he does it, almost silently insisting that you watch as he manhandles Kei into moving how he wants, wanting to show you how easily he strings the taller figure along to his whims, making a show of how he has as little to say in this as you do. Maybe even less, though you have no way of knowing the lengths they would go to in order to please you. 

Kei makes a strange, wobbly noise at the sudden increase in friction, all too quickly feeling overwhelmed and sensitive, the loud slap of his ass as it smacks into Bo’s thighs rings between your ears, hard and fast and faster faster faster–

Kei screams when he cums this time, and it feels so hot inside you that you think you’ve been branded. He fumbles at your jaw with his hands, fingers curling around your chin to try and hold you in place while he kisses you, messy and open mouthed, panting and choking back strangled sobs when Bokuto still doesn’t let up, forcing him to ride it out. You try to reach for him, feeling like you’re in a game that’s running three frames a second, slow and squirming against Akaashi’s grip. 

“‘Kaashi.” You whine, blinking with glassy eyes up at him, trying to convey that you want him to let you go so you can touch Kei. 

He hums thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side in a show of consideration that you’re sure is fake, false contemplation that drags it out. Kei whines at the loss, mouthing at your jaw in a bid for your attention, though it’s messy and uncoordinated. 

“Say please.” Akaashi tells you, stroking his thumb over the pulse fluttering in your wrist, a wave of shivers sending gooseflesh rising along your arms. Kei’s lips move to your neck, sucking, nipping, lost as he tries fruitlessly to muffle his wanton voice against your sweat-slicked skin. 

“Please.”  

Akaashi releases you, and you immediately reach up towards Kei and curve your hands against the hard cut of his jaw, molding them to the shape of his face while you kiss him. He blinks at you, bleary-eyed, then whimpers into your mouth when you tighten around him. 

“Too much.” He croaks, forced to keep fucking you, raw and sensitive and Bo just won’t let up.  

Akaashi pulls him in for a kiss next, and when Kei moans into his mouth he echoes the sound softly, a push and pull as he’s moved around however the other wants him. 

“Baby.” Bokuto calls for you quietly, voice breaking on the last syllable, and when you look up at him his face is flushed dark and his eyes are pleading. Desperate, and he can no longer stand the slow pace of Kei rocking back onto his cock, he needs more.   

You lift your head, meeting him half-way for a kiss that he nearly growls into, bent over Kei’s back and pushing him down with a hand at the base of his spine. You’re pressed harder into the mattress as Kei is pinned against you fully, no longer able to support any of his weight with Bokuto fucking into him with rapidly rising fervor, the slap of his hips leaving the sensitive skin of his ass a bright, vivid red. Your lips are almost numb, aching from the plethora of harsh kisses you’ve been given, and this one is no different, his mouth burns against yours, bruising the soft swell of your lips until he has to rip himself away with a loud, high-pitched whine. His hips stutter, slowing, trying desperately to reign himself in but the sight of you and Kei so thoroughly blissed and fucked out is too much. 

Despite Bo clearly being on the brink, you’re the next one to cum. It’s unexpected and quick, a shock of pleasure that has your legs clamping inwards, trying to snap shut as you arch your back and scream . For a moment, you have a stark flash of clarity, bright and hot as a horribly sharp orgasm cuts its way through you. Kei makes a harsh noise when you squeeze around him, tight and sucking him in even though he’s already as far as he can get. 

It’s dragged out even longer for the both of you when Bokuto finally cums with you, hips bucking hard and deep as he pounds relentlessly into Kei, bruising handprints coloring low on his waist that are going to linger for days as a reminder. You reach for him, mindless, whimpering at the way Kei’s pelvis grinds against your clit with every hard thrust he’s forced to take. The tips of your fingers meet stubble, then they curve beneath the cut of Bo’s jaw, curling to try and coax him into coming closer. He does, falling over Kei’s back and wrapping around him, chin on his shoulder as he ducks down to kiss you. It’s hot, and you feel like three weighted blankets have been thrown overtop of you, but then his whole body goes slack and he slumps over to the side to take some of the weight with him.

Kuroo catches him before he can fall, keeping the large spiker from collapsing on top of the two of you, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead and kissing him there. He lowers him slowly, so that he’s laid out across the mattress and can catch his breath, chest heaving but with a satisfied, almost smug smile on his face when he catches your eye. 

Kei is heavy, completely slack, hips still rocking gently into you even though Bo is no longer there to make him keep going. His face is buried in your neck, murmuring some sort of incoherence that you can’t make out with his voice muffled against your skin. 

Akaashi takes pity on you and lifts the large middle blocker to roll him onto his back and off of you, cool hands tilting his face up and checking him over, and you’re finally left to your own devices to breathe for a moment. It’s bliss. 

Everything is sore, cum dribbling out of your abused cunt, still twitching with little contractions that pulse through your core. You have to be covered in bruises, and you’d be dreading looking at your legs to find the remnants of Kuroo’s attack earlier in the living room if you could wrench yourself out of whatever hazy headspace you’ve been left in. 

You breathe slowly, drifting, thick tendrils of exhaustion creeping in now that you’re no longer being moved. It’s easy, almost, to fall asleep, to give in to the edibles deep in your system that have been trying to pull you under for hours now. Briefly, for a few precious minutes, it works, but it doesn’t last for long. 

Someone new settles between your sticky thighs, and you lift your head to see Kuroo grinning down at you, cheeks flushed crimson and his hair pushed back out of his face. 

“Hi, sweet thing.” He coos, and you shiver when the blunt head of his cock slides against your clit, a sharp lance of pain cutting up your spine. 

“Kuroo,” You whine, feeling like your mouth is too dry, too slow, the shapes of words oddly fitted on your tongue. “N’more.” 

There’s more you want to say, or you think there is, but no matter how you try to force the words out, nothing comes. 

He kisses you, soft, but he doesn’t stop grinding against your sore cunt, well-loved and still dripping with Kei’s cum. “You’re not gonna leave Keiji and me unsatisfied, right?” He murmurs against your lips, unable to hide a sly smile when you let out a shaky, shuddering breath. It’s not consent, he knows, but he’ll take you realizing that you don’t have a choice over more resistance. Your subspace had made you pliant, he wants to send you back there, but disturbing you from your little nap brought you to the forefront of your mind, even hazy as it is. 

Akaashi kisses you next, briefly, having moved from his spot on the bed to retrieve a condom from the nightstand. After rolling it on, he situates himself behind Kuroo, pushing down until he’s chest-to-chest with you. You have to crane your head back a little to look up at him, and he smiles down at you, honey eyes already glassy when Akaashi slowly begins to open him up, deft fingers stretching him out patiently. 

Part of you is relieved that you won’t be taking both of them at the same time. 

Another part of you, a small sliver curated by the murky events you’ve endured throughout the night, wishes that you were. 

Unfortunately for you, Akaashi is perceptive, and he catches the second of conflicted emotion that flashes across your face. He smiles, kisses Kuroo on the shoulder once, and then pulls away. 

The latter is confused, almost whining at the loss before he catches himself. “Keiji?” 

“Help me lift her.” Is all he says, moving around back onto the bed. Kei slides out of the way, slow and a little sluggish, but he also helps with sitting you up so Akaashi can slide beneath you on his knees. The change in position has your vision tilting, black dots swimming around even when you try to blink them away. You’re draped over Akaashi’s lap and slumped against his chest, and Kuroo is settled between your thighs, your legs wrapped tight around his waist with his hands squeezing you by the hips to keep you held up against his abdomen instead of resting on Akaashi’s thighs. 

Your head lolls, tired body boneless, and you whimper when the tip of Kuroo’s cock begins to slide into you. It’s a slight stretch, your silken walls pulsing hot around him, fluttering like the wings of a frantic butterfly. He groans low in his chest and ducks down to rest his forehead against your sternum, breathing heavily and trying to keep from bullying the rest of it into you all at once. 

Bokuto passes a bottle of unscented lube to Akaashi, waiting with a cheeky smile until he’s given a kiss before relinquishing his hold on it. 

You’re a little slow to catch on, clutching at Kuroo’s back and digging your nails in just below his shoulder blades. He throbs within you, hips pushing forward in time with his strained exhale as he breathes against you. “Baby…” He warns, cracking. 

Akaashi warms some of the lube between his hands while Kei gets a little more water in you, cupping your cheek and tipping the glass against your lips until it's empty. You feel like a doll, or a marionette with snipped strings, moved around and passed back and forth until you can barely keep track of who is doing what. 

Kuroo takes another slow, heavy breath, and something in the air changes, charges, a small thrill of electricity creeping up the back of your throat with your nerves buzzing wildly. 

When he pushes into you the rest of the way, it’s wet and loud, the squelch of his cock displacing the lube and cum against your walls making you cringe. He circles his hips slowly, fucking into you with little half-thrusts that make you squirm, still far too sensitive to really endure any friction. 

Behind you, Bokuto is fisting Akaashi’s cock with a wild grin on his face, his arm curved solidly around the dip of his waist to keep him upright. “Gotta get you nice and ready, yeah?” He pants, gold eyes bright with something a little frantic. 

Akaashi makes a low, wanting noise, his hips bucking erratically beneath you and his hands squeezing at your waist, as though wanting to bring you back against his cock even though he can’t. Tsukishima drizzles more lube onto him, cold and thick and it makes the quick glide of Bo’s hand even smoother. He speeds up to take advantage of that. 

Part of you wishes you could see it. He sounds wrecked, voice breathy in a way you’ve never heard, quiet moans that only reach you because you’re so close. 

Thankfully, intentionally or not, Bo is almost always in sync with you. “Look at that pretty face, ” He breathes, thick with arousal. “You look so good, ‘Kaashi. So pretty, just like our pretty girl.” A pause, heavy pants and moans plucked from Akaashi’s lips, then– “What’s wrong? My hand not enough for you?” He’s teasing, voice light and playful, Bo doesn’t have it in him to be genuinely degrading. “You wanna be inside her that bad? You’re not usually this impatient, don’t you wanna savor it? Look how Tetsu fucks her, you wanna do it like that?” It drops then, his voice, something low and carnal. “Or do you wanna fuck her harder ?”

You and Akaashi shudder at the same time, swept up in the rough cadence that lingers on your skin. You’ve never heard him talk like that before, though it seems to be working wonders on the man behind you. 

Kuroo catches you in a firm kiss, stealing the brunt of your focus and fucking deeper into you to keep it. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, the heat of his cock like a firm, dull pressure that rubs against you in ways that make you whine. He smiles against your lips, pecks you a few times before lifting you up until just the tip of him is inside, though you unconsciously try to pull him back in. 

“Fuckin’ greedy pussy.” He teases, but his jaw is gritted and his knuckles bleed white as he has to shove down the need to thrust back into you, to give into the needy way you try to suck him in. 

This time when he begins to press forward, Akaashi is there with him, guided too eagerly by Bo’s hands. It’s slow, and he waits until Kuroo is half sheathed within you to start the stretch. The amount of lube almost feels gross, but it makes the sting bearable, and they’re both gentle with you, taking long breaks with Kuroo kissing you as a distraction and Akaashi palming your breasts, fingers gently rolling your nipples so he can feel the way your cunt flutters around him in response. 

Kei kisses you next, and when he parts your lips something sweet like chocolate melts across your tongue. His fingers curl against the nape of your neck so he can tilt his head and then press his lips more firmly against yours, and he licks into you again to fill your mouth with the taste of a strawberry truffle. You lean into it eagerly, chasing the sweetness with little thought to how your body is being gently picked apart by expert hands. 

The burst of sugar brightens you up, clears away some of the sleep that had been layering overtop of you and drawing you in. You cup his face and pull him a little closer, suckling gently on the tip of his tongue until all of the chocolate is gone. He groans when you do, kissing you harder for a short beat before he’s pulling away. 

You try to complain, a whine creeping up your throat that is quickly cut off when Akaashi gives a short, sharp thrust into you, knocking the words from your lips and making you yelp. 

Stretched to the limit, you feel overwhelmingly full with both Kuroo and Akaashi fully hilted within you. Your hips wriggle, an experiment to test how much it will hurt, and a pleasant sharpness pierces your abdomen when you try to move. Kuroo grabs at you with a strained noise, his cock throbbing when you tighten up around them both. 

“Tsukki is already hard again.” Bo teases, but the playfulness of it is overshadowed by the raw desire you see on his face. He presses a hand to your abdomen, fingers stroking the sensitive skin of your belly before it drifts, reaching down between the press of yours and Kuroo’s bodies to gently circle your clit with his fingers, leaning over Akaashi’s back so he can still be close to you all. “You guys look so fucking good like this.” 

Kei shoots Bokuto a sharp, frigid glare that is ignored, instinctively curling inwards on himself as if he feels the need to hide, ashamed of the way his cock bobs with every erratic twitch, angry and swollen as if he hadn’t already gotten off twice. 

Listlessly, mindlessly, you reach out to wrap your trembling fingers around it, relishing in the gasp that catches in his throat. He grabs at your wrist, squeezing tight but not pulling away, knees slowly spreading apart to open himself up when you tilt your face to look at him. His face is flushed like a peach, brows drawn and his lips set in a thin line that barely hides how they tremble. 

After a brief moment, his hand moves, drops to wrap around your fingers and tightening to force them into a fist so he can fuck himself into it. He trembles, overwhelmed but still needing more, and his eyes are glued to the stretch of your pussy as it struggles to accommodate the two men who are hilted inside of you as deep as they can go.    

Bokuto mirrors him, taking your other hand and, after pressing a kiss to the back of it, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. They don’t make you move on your own, simply using your hands to please themselves while watching raptly as Kuroo and Akaashi take turns thrusting into you.

It’s awful, it’s messy, you feel utterly wrecked and debauched and your body sags heavy with the need to lay down and rest. 

And yet, you find yourself turning towards Akaashi, pressing your nose into his cheek to catch his attention. He leans into you, humming softly while slowing the already painfully gentle roll of his hips. They’ve been going so slowly the entire time, carefully alternating their thrusts to avoid hurting you too much.

“More.” You breathe, arching your back and trying to twist your hips a little, messing up their rhythm and making Kuroo choke back a moan. “More, please, Keiji.” 

His hips stutter when you say his name, fingers digging tight into your thighs and holding you in place. His cock throbs inside of you, twitches even harder when Kuroo doesn’t stop fucking into you, the slick glide of it making you both keen. 

“More?” He echoes, equal parts amused, incredulous, and yearning. Gunmetal navy flits up to catch eyes of honey, the two sharing a look before Akaashi’s attention is back on you. “Are you sure, love?” 

You nod, fingers flexing when they begin to ache, drawing deep, agonizing noises from both Bokuto and Kei. The latter tightens his hand to the point that the gripping press of your fist must be painful, but he fucks into it shamelessly, his voice pitching just a little higher as his back starts to curve, shoulders hunched as he leans forward and rests his head against Kuroo’s back. 

Akaashi hums thoughtfully, resting his chin on your shoulder and pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear while watching the myriad of expressions that cross Kei and Kuroo’s faces. He kisses you once more, almost as a warning, before his voice comes out in a soft sigh. “Alright, love. We’ll give you more.”

He rolls his shoulders, adjusts his grip and braces himself a little better on his knees so he has more leverate to fuck you. Gentle, doting Akaashi, he lines the back of your neck with kisses peppering over your skin, letting Kuroo pull you forward until just the tip of his cock remains. Then, he yanks you back down hard enough that the resounding slap! startles you, Kei, and Bo from your daze, They watch, enraptured, as Akaashi fucks up into you, hard and deep thrusts that force you up against Kuroo, pressed into his chest while he pushes on your back to smooth it into an arch. You choke on a ragged scream, feeling like they’re almost in your throat, stretching you wide and leaving you empty in the short half seconds when they’ve withdrawn. 

You’re not even holding yourself up anymore, limp as you have to rely on Kuroo and Akaashi gripping onto your waist, Bo and Kei still squeezing your fingers into a tight circle to fuck themselves into. It’s horribly lewd, and you barely feel like you have any support, but some part of you is aching for more of it, to be pushed even further.

The sugar was much needed in your system, even buzzing and sluggish as you are, the small burst of energy helps keep you from drifting into a semi-conscious state. It helps you move your hips, circling in a feeble attempt to do nothing more than take. 

Akaashi presses his face between your shoulder blades, panting heavily and dotting your spine with tiny kisses, his voice heavy and broken on certain syllables. “That’s it, love.” He kisses you again, punctuating his words with a branding press of his lips. “You’re doing so well, you feel so good.”  

The praise makes you lightheaded, your body trying to keep up with them, to move with them in the pursuit of something. You don’t think you can cum anymore, but it feels just good enough that you don’t want to stop. You’re disjointed, disconnected, your brain a solid ten paces behind your actions.

So when you lean to press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the sticky tip of Kei’s cock, you don’t think much of it. But he moans, catches you by the back of your neck to keep you there, rubbing himself against your lips until you part them again and let him grind against the heat of your tongue. 

“Oh, fuck.” He breathes, head falling back, his throat bobbing with a particularly dry swallow. 

You suckle gently on the very tip of him, swirling your tongue against the slick head and humming when the taste of him coats the inside of your mouth, and he trembles against you, letting out a noise so close to a plea that it makes your thighs clench. 

“Feels good.” You try to say, slurred and raspy. 

Kuroo makes an odd, breathy sort of laugh, bucking his hips into you once to disturb the languid pace you’re trying to set. “Does it?” He asks, tipping his face down to look at you, trying to catch you in a kiss despite the way Kei languidly grinds into your mouth. “How good, baby? How good are we making you feel?”  

Kei reluctantly allows him to pull you off of his cock, panting and flushed, twitching in your grasp. For a moment, he has to slow down, his hips barely moving while he lets himself fall away from the edge. Wordlessly, Bo reels him in for a kiss, and you’re once again surrounded on all sides, feeling almost suffocated as they wrap themselves around you, overlapping and intertwined. 

You whine, whatever feeble reply you’d been ready to offer Kuroo drowned out by the firm press of his lips. Plush and warm, it’s surprisingly chaste considering the horribly debauched way you feel. He kisses you like he loves you, like it’s just a distant moment where he’s caught you around the waist and is pulling you in for a good morning kiss. 

Not like he’s buried to the hilt inside of you alongside one of his best friends, like he hasn’t littered your body with fingerprint bruises and blooming burgundy hickeys. 

Then his tongue pries your lips apart, delving inside, and he moans at the taste of salt that lingers from having Kei in your mouth. He kisses you harder, licking into you shamelessly, clinging to your legs so tightly that you’re sure he’s only leaving more bruises. 

“Gonna–” You pant heavily, hips twitching, your eyes rolling back as every functioning muscle in your body tries to tense with anticipation, your toes curling and your fingers going slack, only held in place by the way Bo and Kei keep you fisted tight around them. 

“Yeah?” Bokuto coos, reaching in to cup your cheek with his free hand and pull you towards him, kissing you once to taste both Kei and Kuroo on your tongue, and then meeting Kuroo half-way in another frenzied kiss. Against his lips, he asks– “Gonna what, baby? Tell us what you need.” 

He’s getting needy himself, desperate to touch as many of you as possible at once, needing to be in contact with all of you. Bo likes to feel surrounded when he cums, likes having all of you nearby. His hips buck, cock throbbing against the tight squeeze of your fingers, but he slows whenever he gets too close, just like Kei is.

You hiss, tossing your head against his grip and turning towards Kuroo, panting heavy and trying to convey to him with your eyes what you’re trying to say. 

He groans at the sight of you, letting out a small wisp of breath between his teeth before he’s fucking you a little faster, brow pinched and his breath coming out in rough, shallow pants. “Come on, pretty.” He grits out, biting back a noise close to a whimper. “Come on, come on.”  

You choke on a whimper, mouthing at his jaw and trying to babble out a coherent sentence, slurred and sticky words catching on your tongue. “More.” You plead, wanting to move your hips faster but unable to muster the strength. “Please, Tetsurou, Keiji, please more.” 

Akaashi ghosts his lips just below your ear, voice barely a whisper. “Call him daddy, love.” He murmurs, loving despite the brutal slap of his hips against your ass, hands gentle as they push and pull on your waist. “Trust me, he’ll give you more.” 

You’re too far gone to even think twice about it, beyond embarrassment, beyond rational thinking. You lean forward, mouth to Kuroo’s ear, and beg for him once more. “Please, daddy? Pl–” 

“Shit! Fuck– shit!” His hips snap into you, hard and erratic without any sense of rhythm, and one of his hands grabs your face, slips to curl around your throat, though he barely applies any pressure. “Again.”  

It’s a demand, but he says it like a plea, voice ragged like he’s swallowed a mouthful of gravel. “Baby, say it again, call me daddy.”

You do, breathless and hoarse, and the way he throbs inside of you is unmistakable. He wrestles control of the pace from Keiji, the latter whom gives it up gladly in order to watch the way you unknowingly tear Kuroo apart. 

“Daddy!” You gasp, clawing at his back, nails raking down sweat-slicked skin until streaks of crimson follow, dotted faintly with blood that smears beneath your hands. “Please, please, m’close, daddy please.”  

His eyes roll back, mouth falling open as he ducks his head to suck impossibly dark marks into your skin, overlapping some of the hickeys Kei had left, uncaring that you’re overly raw and sensitive. “Again.” He rasps, watching with wild eyes as Akaashi’s mouth twists, brow pinched in an expression of agonizing need, the look of a man who’s on the edge and is trying everything to keep it together. 

Despite how hard he tries to keep himself in check, Kuroo cums first. Akaashi tries to slow down to let him ride it out, but is quickly deterred when you push back onto him with a whine, so he matches Kuroo thrust for thrust despite the way both of you squirm and cry out at the overwhelming stimulation. Kuroo chokes back a ragged sob and drops his face to your neck, squeezing you and dragging you by the hips onto his cock once, twice, only able to manage a few more thrusts before he’s spilling into you with a hoarse call of your name. 

It’s still so warm, hot and thick and even Akaashi moans against your back at the feeling, lips pressed tight to your sweaty skin to try and muffle the sound, but you can feel it vibrate through your spine. 

A strangled, high-pitched sound builds in Kuroo’s throat when he feels you cumming next, the silken squeeze of your cunt ripping a sharp gasp from his chest as it flutters around his sensitive cock. He sounds like he’s in pain when he moans against the sensitive skin of your throat, but he adjusts his hold on your waist and then helps Akaashi fuck you through it anyway. 

You’re sure that if they try to make you cum again, you’ll die, it’s too much and you’re not even confident you’ll survive this one. 

They cradle you as you fall apart, your consciousness splintering into fragments, your physical form completely dead weight as you flicker out of existence, like a shadow at the corner of your vision. It’s almost like you’re sleeping, numb to the way hands flitter over you and lift you to change your position. You’re moved easily, changed to their whims, malleable as you drift along the line of unconsciousness. 

A cool drip of water on your forehead brings you back, a finely textured cloth gently wiping down your face. 

“There we go.” Kuroo murmurs, kissing the tip of your nose and putting the rag aside. “Are you coming back to us now?” 

Your throat feels too dry for you to say anything in reply, slowly pulling yourself from the sticky grasp of whatever blackout had clung to you, blinking away the haze and trying to stretch out. 

But they’re still holding you, you’re still full to the brim, Kei keeps your slack hand pressed tight around his cock while he fucks into it, though Bokuto has released you in favor of sidling up to Kuroo and kissing him. You can’t move, but with the way your body screams in protest after even a brief attempt, you think it might be better for you that way. 

You can’t even find it in you to protest when, after Kuroo pulls out, Bo takes his place. He hooks an arm around your middle, taking on most of your weight easily and pressing the swollen head of his cock into you. Akaashi’s fingers find your clit, gentle and swirling around it to avoid stimulating you too much directly. It’s nice enough, and you find yourself rocking into it as much as Bokuto’s tight hold will allow. 

The stretch is a little more intense this time, but you’re mostly numb to it, the only feeling you get is the hard jolt of pleasure when one of them hits your sweet spot. 

Bo is surprisingly gentle considering usually he’s the one getting too excited, breaking you down to pieces and ruining you simply because he’s overzealous at the best of times. Thick arms hold you up with ease, giving Akaashi a little more freedom to move as well, to quicken his pace and to touch you like he wants. Hands skimming up your sides, cupping your breasts, free to explore the length of your body without having to support your weight at the same time. 

It’s a slow build, distant and barely noticeable, but you eventually begin to squirm when another orgasm creeps close. Impossibly, you make a strangled noise of want and roll your hips, even as part of you screams that one more is too much, it’ll definitely kill you, you can’t take anymore. 

“There’s no way.” Kuroo breathes, ragged and breathless, but he leans in to watch the way you begin to twitch, the way your lashes flutter as you blink away the welling of tears blurring your vision. “Again?” 

Your voice is essentially shot, little more than a dry rasp as you try to protest, try to ask for some form of relief, but you can’t quite get the words out. 

Akaashi lets out a soft, rough noise against your back, pressing down hard on your clit as his hips begin to stutter. Your voice pitches high, sharp, and he groans in something close to an apology. 

“I know, love.” He whispers, sounding almost regretful as he locks both of his arms around your waist, holding you tight when his pace starts to pick up. “I know, I’m sorry I– I can’t help it. ” 

It’s too much when he cums, the way he fucks into you well past the point of overstimulation. Bokuto slows down, but he doesn’t stop fully, pushing both of you beyond your limit, and Akaashi sobs into your back at how sensitive he begins to feel.

Too hot, and the sounds that spill from between your legs when they continue to shove their cocks into the wet, abused clench of your pussy make you want to cover your ears and drown it all out. You have no control over the way your muscles contract around them, tight and squeezing, and then slack, relaxed, allowing them to carve out a space inside of you even as a small, precious piece of you tries to fight it still. 

Akaashi buries his face into your neck, his voice raw and hoarse when he breathes your name, then Bo’s, a whisper of how good you feel sending a shiver of sweetness up your spine.

Then he’s choking back another sob, still thrusting into you even though he’s overstimulated, the hands roaming your body shaking as they squeeze and pet you, his skin faintly glimmering with sweat, and you’re sure if you could see his face then it would be the most unkempt version of Akaashi you’ve ever seen. 

But he doesn’t pull out, and Bo continues to fuck you both through it. 

You almost feel like you’re going to pass out again, your vision blacking out in brief flickers that leave you dazed. Enduring it is easier this way, but Kei will tap your cheeks occasionally, to gauge your attention and see if you can focus it enough to respond.

Your eyes snap to meet his every time, pupils blown wide in a clear indication that you’re still at least partially aware. 

Finally, Akaashi slips out, gasping, heaving for breath as he falls back on the bed, chest stuttering and his hips still thrusting weakly into the air, like his body instinctively searches for more pleasure even though he’s well past his limit. 

Then it’s just Bokuto, holding you tight over his lap and fucking himself into you, face tucked into your neck with his hands cradling your back. Your hand is still wrapped tightly around Kei’s cock, but he’s thrusting into it slowly now, dragging it out, and you swallow around nothing when he begins to move you, lifting you gently so he can slip into the space previously occupied by Akaashi. 

“Kei…” You try to plead, but Kuroo shushes you softly, and it’s only then you notice that he’d moved away from you. The bed dips beneath his weight as he crawls back to your side, helping hold you up so Kei can settle. 

“Just a little more, baby.” He murmurs, kissing you on the crown of your head. “So good, you’re doing so good, we’re almost done.”  

“Can’t–” You gasp, the sensitive walls of your quivering cunt clenching down when Kei slowly pushes his way inside. Bokuto groans softly at the feeling, thrusting a few times to rut against him while inside of you, and it’s enough to knock the words out of your mouth. 

“Can’t take anymore!” You wail, your nails dragging sharply over Bo’s shoulders, clinging because you feel so dangerously close to the brink of passing out that it makes your breath start to shallow out. They hold you steady, with Kei immediately crowding against your back and bending down to press his face into your neck, wrapping as much of himself around you as he can as though to keep you grounded. 

Bo slows down, though neither of them pull out of you. Akaashi crawls close to gather you into his arms, supporting the bulk of your weight as Bo releases you to allow him the embrace, though he does keep one hand resting against your hip.

“You’re doing so well, my love.” Akaashi murmurs into your hair, husky and breathless. “You’re so beautiful, you always take us so well, always so good for us.” 

You choke back a sob, shaking in his arms as he cradles you, lithe fingers stroking down your spine and his lips pressing gentle kisses to your temple. You can still feel Bo and Kei inside of you, filling you, twitching against one another with muscles straining against the urge to keep fucking you. 

But they don’t. 

Kuroo gets you more water, colder water, and feeds you a few more truffles, brushing the hair from your face and wiping you down with a warm rag. It feels nice, the cloth is soft against your buzzing skin, and isn’t aggravating despite the way your entire body feels like it’s raw and oversensitive. 

When you can breathe again, they take turns kissing you. Slow, languid, velvet against your mouth while they each lick at the sweetness still lingering on your lips. 

Kei gives you more chocolate with his turn, the truffle half-melted on his tongue, a hand cradling the back of your head to keep you pressed against him. His cock twitches inside you when you lick into his mouth with a needy whine, and his grip on your waist tightens, but he still doesn’t move despite how he clearly wants to. 

Kuroo steals you next, fingers curling over the nape of your neck and dragging you in to seal his mouth over yours. He licks the rest of Kei’s molten truffle from your tongue shamelessly, swallowing your noise of protest and tilting your head back so he can kiss you just a little harder. It’s bruising, the roughest one he’s given you all night, and it leaves you a little dazed and swaying when he finally lets you go. 

In contrast, Bokuto is achingly gentle when his lips meet yours, his large hand curving around the side of your neck with his thumb gliding along your cheek. His mouth is a little cold, like he’d just taken a sip of water, and you lean into it, a soft sigh that spills out when he traces the plush of your bottom lip with his tongue. 

You’re lost in it, so you don’t notice when he starts to move, slowly rolling his hips in tiny circles that are barely noticeable. Kei squeezes you, makes a warning noise that you barely register, and then Bo is moving a little faster, a little deeper.

You whine in protest, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep until you can’t feel the ache in your bones anymore, but Akaashi turns you by your cheek to claim his kiss before you can complain. 

“Just a little more, pretty.” Kuroo murmurs, pulling Kei into a kiss of his own, and you can feel the way his cock twitches lewdly inside you as a result. They don’t give you the chance to even try getting away, the slow back and forth rocking, pushing and pulling you from Kei to Bokuto. Their hands are light as they skim along your body, lips ghosting along your neck and your shoulders, leaving half-formed bruises that will darken even more by morning. 

You catch the flicker of pink as Kuroo’s tongue delves into Kei’s mouth, watching as the blonde’s brow furrows and his hips stutter into you, cock throbbing hard as he unconsciously picks up the pace. 

Akaashi finally gives you a moment to breathe, moving down to leave his own mark just above your collarbones, and you barely feel as he sucks the bruise deep into your skin, enough to make sure it will ache long after he’s done. 

Bo nudges against your jaw with a soft whine, breaths hard and fast as he tries to clear his throat enough to speak. “Baby.” He rasps, wobbly. “Baby, I’m gonna cum, can I stay inside you? Please? Please baby I wanna cum in you, feels so fucking good.” 

He groans then, hips hilting faster now, bruising and hard enough that Kei gives up entirely on moving and simply remains buried inside of you, the two of you forced to take what he gives. 

Kuroo snorts, reaching out and fisting a hand in Bo’s hair, pulling his head back with a grin. “What, you’re asking permission now?” He teases, rolling his hips into the hard muscle of the spiker’s thigh. “Cute, Kou. Gonna ask her to cuddle next?”

“Maybe.” He quips back, breathless but grinning, unperturbed by the taunt. “Have fun sleeping on the couch while I’m in here, all curled up and cozy.” 

Kei squeezes your hips, his chest pressed to your back as he leans over you, sweaty and trembling. Your head tilts, baring your throat for the gentle press of his lips, the faint bite of teeth when they scrape over your skin. The bickering is drowned out by the heavy pants skimming over your ear, the soft whimpers that wouldn’t be audible if you were just a few inches away. His arms tighten around you, fully wrapped around your waist to crush you against his chest, and you know that he’s getting close too. 

“Gentle.” You try to say, try to remind them, but the word comes out odd, more of a drawn out syllable that ends on a hiccup when Bokuto fucks you harder. 

Too much.  

When he cums, he yanks both you and Kei as close as possible, thick arms wrapped around you to hold you against him while he bullies his cock into you relentlessly, your body limp in his grasp and slumped over his chest. The change in angle makes you sob, a gritty noise that feels like sand caught at the back of your tongue, and he makes a tortured sound as if to echo you, tucking his face into your hair as if that will muffle how he moans and gasps while emptying himself into your abused cunt. 

Then Kei is leaning back, propped up against Kuroo’s chest with the latter’s arms draped over his shoulders. You go with him, gravity keeping you in place as Bo helps move you on your back, and then it’s just Kei inside of you. 

Gentle fingers find your clit, but it doesn’t feel good anymore, it just burns. You try to push them away, but your hands won’t listen, twitching listlessly where they’d fallen at your sides. 

“I’m sorry.” Kei breathes, shaking as Kuroo encourages him to move faster, pushing his hips forward to keep him fucking into you. “Feels so good, I can’t–” His voice cracks, pitches high, and then he’s curling forward into you, gasping into your neck and grabbing at your hips to yank you back onto his twitching cock. 

Weakly, impossibly, you try to crawl away, try to pull off of him, but it feels like you’re beneath those weighted blankets again, the air heavy enough to pin you down while Kei uses you to finish himself off. Thick, liquid heat spills into you once more, stuffed too full, feeling it drip out of you onto the sheets, smeared along your inner thighs and your stomach, wet and sticky and cooling rapidly in the chilly air of your apartment. Kei holds you to him, arms wrapped fully around your waist to hold you while he rides it out, with Kuroo stroking the hair from his face and smoothing a hand over your hip to help you both on the way down from your spiral. 

The sound is awful as he pulls out, and yet you can’t even find the presence of mind to be embarrassed, you’re sure that you’re only seconds away from slipping into a coma anyway so it hardly matters now. 

Akaashi holds you close, murmuring into your ear as he gathers you in his arms and lifts you off the bed. Apologies, mostly, because you whine with pain when he moves you, and more so when he starts to walk with you. 

Bokuto leaves the room, and Kuroo joins Akaashi in checking you over, fingertips skimming over your sensitive skin, tracing the outlines of bite marks and bruises. They fuss over you, no longer offering sugary kisses and sweet praise, they examine you with a fine tuned familiarity built up over years of aftercare, knowing when to offer sweetness and when to give you the essentials instead. 

Kei, after taking a minute or so to recover, begins changing your sheets while they’re busy with you, though he’s quicker to get dressed than any of you are. He’s come back to himself, a little, now more aware and no longer immersed in his own subspace, but his eyes still soften when they catch yours from across the room, the stoic facade melting. 

“Hey, pretty girl. Still with us?” Kuroo cups your cheek gently, patting it until your eyes move to focus on him instead. 

You hum, a vaguely affirmative sort of sound, and Akaashi sighs with tepid relief, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. 

When Bo comes back into the room, you’re transferred into his arms despite your delirious protests. He carries you into the bathroom and sets you gently on the sink, cupping the back of your head to lean it against the mirror, then he rocks back on his heels to look at you. 

You can only imagine how you look now, in the light, completely bare. You’d expect him to look disgusted, almost, finally seeing how thoroughly wrecked you’ve become. 

Instead, he sighs, hands on your hips as he dips down to kiss you reverently, murmuring into the space between your lips in a meltingly sweet whisper. “We’re so damn lucky, y’know.” 

He takes a few moments to just kiss you, soft little pushes of his lips against yours, moving like warm satin when you tip your face from one side to the other, guided by his hand. “So pretty like this, baby. So fucking pretty.” 

You bask in his praise for a moment, preening as he kisses you between each little compliment, but then Kei steps through the door into the bathroom and brushes past you, though he does stop long enough to give you both a kiss at Bo’s insistence. 

Rough hands slip beneath your thighs, and you only have a second to even think about bracing before Bokuto hoists you up and jostles you to make sure you’re sturdy in his arms. The abruptness of it makes you whimper, though, sore muscles protesting the careless movement. He winces, brushing his nose against yours in a quiet apology. 

“Be careful, Koutarou.” Kei sighs, setting down a cold water bottle on the sink and opening the cabinet that has all of your soaps. “Let me do it, go find a brush for her hair.” 

Bo pouts, squeezing you gently and pressing his cheek against your forehead, you can almost picture the dramatic expression he must be making. “No way, bathtime is the best part. You go get her brush, it’s in the nightstand on Kuroo’s side of the bed.” 

Idly, you wonder what the fuck Kuroo was doing using your brush, but the thought is a fleeting one. 

You lift your head, trying to turn to see where Kei is standing, but you quickly feel the heat of him at your back as he comes to stand behind you. His arms loop around your middle, though Bo still carries most of your weight. You melt against him, his lips at your shoulder and his hands rubbing soothing circles into some of your sore muscles, you can’t help yourself.

“Then be more careful, she’s already sore. We don’t need you making it worse, you brute.” He mutters the last part under his breath, muffling the insult by pressing a kiss to the space just below your ear. 

Bokuto bristles, a deep-set frown etched into his face. “What was that? Weren’t calling me a brute when I was balls deep in–”

Akaashi’s calm, cool voice cuts through the rising volume of the argument. “The bath is getting cold.” 

Frigid silence, both men tensing sharply even though Akaashi physically does not pose much of a threat. Kei ducks his head, slipping out of the bathroom with a muttered apology, and Bokuto quietly carries you to the hot tub of water beckoning you from the corner. It burns, at first, stinging your skin and making you squirm with discomfort as he lowers you into it, but it fades quickly and then, when you’re fully submerged with your head lolling against the rim, you think you might be dangerously close to passing out like this. He crouches down beside you, knees knocking against porcelain in his efforts to be as near to you as possible while you soak. 

It smells a little like tea tree, but softer, and the water has a green tint, something mixed in that has your skin tingling pleasantly. It’s opaque, murky with what you suspect to be a mixture of milk and honey. You already feel a little more supple to the touch, and you make a low, pleased hum as you sink into it with a drawn out exhale. 

Kei reenters the bathroom quietly, stopping briefly to accept the comforting kiss Akaashi offers before coming to join Bo, though he sits on the edge of the tub beside you instead of staying on the floor. He pulls your hair out from beneath your head and cups handfuls of water to pour over your scalp, careful to make sure it doesn’t get in your eyes, and he passes your brush to Bo in a silent peace offering. 

It’s accepted with a wide, beaming smile, practiced hands separating your damp hair to begin brushing it out, painstakingly slow. This is the most gentle Bokuto is with you, when he’s handling your hair or your body after a sore scene. Despite his tendency to be almost exceedingly overzealous, he treats you like you’re made of something even finer than gold afterwards. 

“She wanted pizza after this, right?” Kuroo calls from down the hall, though his voice gradually grows louder as he moves closer to the bathroom. “I thought she wrote her order down for us, but I can’t find the sticky note.” 

“She asked for fried chicken instead, and Kei put the note on top of the fridge because she kept trying to change things and he didn’t want her messing the order up.” Akaashi tips his face unconsciously as Kuroo stops by the door for a quick kiss, leaning into it with a soft sigh that Kuroo echoes with a smile. 

Before leaving, he stops when he sees you sprawled in the tub, a quick, inquisitive glance scanning you over. 

“I turned on the heating pad, so it’ll be warm by the time she’s ready for bed.” He leans against Akaashi with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him steady. While you and Kei are clearly the more fucked out of the bunch, nobody came out of it completely unscathed. “Fucking hell, look at her legs. Was that all me?” 

Bo laughs, almost a bark of a sound, and your brow pinches once at the sharpness of it. “Who else? You’re the only one who gets that crazy with your teeth!” He sets your brush aside, picking up one of your shampoo bottles next and inspecting the label. 

Deeming it acceptable, he squirts some of the floral scented peach soap into Kei’s waiting hand. 

Kei kisses your forehead in apology, even though you’re both used to Kuroo and Bo’s loud banter by now. His fingers scrub your lathered soap into your scalp, gentle circles that would make you purr if you were a little more coherent. Still, you push your head into his hands in encouragement, undeterred and shameless even when he clicks his tongue at your impatience. 

Kuroo comes a little closer, crouching down by the side of the tub and reaching out for your hand, kissing the back of it sweetly. “You coming out of it, pretty?” He asks, lips still lightly pressed against your knuckles. 

You hum, and that’s enough of an answer for them. 

“She’s answering us, at least.” Bo retakes his spot once Kuroo leaves to go order your dinner, a new bottle in hand as he’s lathering himself practically up to the elbows with some of your body wash. “That means she’ll probably be awake soon.” 

Kei scoffs a little, rinsing out your hair with warm water. “She’s already awake.” 

“You know what I mean!” 

Akaashi presses a hand to his forehead and tries to wave off the looming headache creeping in, eyes half-narrowed as he debates on kicking the two of them out of the bathroom. 

Unfortunately, he knows Bo wouldn’t be willing to leave. Kei could be persuaded, but he’d be incredibly grumpy for the rest of the night. Kuroo is usually the only reasonable one, but even then it’s a 50/50 chance of whether or not he’ll just choose to be difficult. 

Warm hands lathered thick with soap press down on your neck, rubbing gently over your pulse before sliding down your shoulders. It’s more of a massage than a means to clean you, but it feels nice, and Bo is careful whenever his fingers glide over bruises or sore spots. He kneads out some of the tension in your shoulders, the juncture where they meet your neck, slippery fingers ghosting down between your breasts in a touch that is far from sexual. It’s intimate, how he handles you, parting your thighs and rubbing wide circles on the insides to chase away the lingering ache from how far wide your legs had been spread for hours. 

Kei scrunches some conditioner into your hair, the scent of peaches and rose water a subtle contrast to the sharpness of tea tree. Your head tilts back, lips parted as if to speak up and call for his attention, but no words come out. He pauses when he sees you trying to talk, brows dipping low with something akin to thinly veiled concern. 

You try to gently clear your throat, but it feels like your vocal cords are made of gravel, and you’re still a little far in the back of your head. Slow flickers of clarity are coming back to you, but words are still out of your reach apparently. 

He nods once in a show of understanding, cupping the back of your head to keep it from hitting the tub as he bends down to kiss you. Akaashi comes closer, snagging the bottle of water Kei had set down and unscrewing the cap so he can hold it out for you. Before you can attempt to reach for it with an arm that feels about a hundred pounds too heavy, he’s overlapping his hand with Kei’s at the nape of your neck and tipping the bottle against your lips so you can drink.

It’s deliciously cold, and flavored faintly with lemon, soothing the ache in your raw throat a little more with every swallow. The bright flavor of the citrus helps wake you up, and you’re able to hold your own head up to finish the bottle. Akaashi sets the empty plastic container aside, then presses a kiss to your cold lips with a soft smile. 

Kei leaves to get a towel from the dryer while Bokuto rinses out your hair, knowing that Kuroo would have already thrown a few in for a cycle to keep them nice and warm for when you finished with your bath. Everyone moves in sync, in tandem with each other while you’re struggling to even remember how to function like a semi-human. 

You begin to come back to yourself, slowly, though it still feels like everything is wrapped in thick, sticky layers of tar or molasses. You’re a little more aware by the time Akaashi helps you out of the tub, when Kei wraps you in a warm, soft towel that doesn’t irritate your skin. 

Bokuto picks you up, mindful of before when he’d lifted you without preamble. He cradles you, pressing little kisses to your wet hair while carrying you into the living room where Kuroo is waiting leaned against the kitchen counter, phone in hand, wearing a pair of loose sweatpants that are definitely not his. A frown mars his face, kiss-swollen lips pursed like a pout, one that melts the moment he looks up to see you all filing into the open space.

“Hey, pretty.” He holds his arms out for you, ignoring Bo’s little whine as he gathers you to his chest, though the latter almost doesn’t let go until Akaashi hip checks him on the way into the kitchen. He buries his face in your wet hair, inhaling deep and then kissing you on the top of your head. “You look a little more here now , can you talk to us yet?” 

You lick your lips, blinking through the lingering film of your high and the remnants of your subspace, but when you try to reach for a response, you find that your mouth still isn’t quite cooperating. Closer, but not there yet. 

So you shake your head, which is at least enough to let them know that you’re cognizant. 

Bokuto goes into the kitchen while Kuroo carries you to the couch, laying you down and tucking a pillow beneath your head. Kei drapes a blanket over you, Akaashi brings your bottle of water and sets it on the floor beside you, and then the three of them are settling down on the floor in a little half circle in front of you. 

There’s a hand in your hair, just petting, fingertips that feather over the features of your face, the bruises on your legs poking out from beneath the cover, smoothing you over now that you’re laid out and they can look at you. You try to keep your eyes from falling shut, trying to clear away what little of the fog you can differentiate from your high. You’re gone for the rest of the night for sure, but if you can crawl out of your subspace then at least you can communicate with them.

They worry more on the nights where you fall asleep before fully coming out of it, and you can tell by the way they hover that they’re dangerously close to that line. Three sets of eyes are on you, almost unblinking, intense, taking in the damage that they’ve done to you throughout the night. 

“Creepy.” 

It slips out before you can even register it, a knee-jerk reaction that is too strong for even your recovering lungs to keep down. Hoarse, barely audible, little more than rasp and a pinch of your voice, but loud enough that they hear it.

Kuroo barks out an ugly, wheezing laugh that makes Kei grimace, his hand coming down sharply to slap against his knee as he cackles. 

“I can’t believe that’s the first thing you say to us!” He’s grinning, bright and relieved , bracing his elbow against his knee so he can rest his mouth against his hand, obscuring the wide smile he can’t quite stifle. “I’m paying for your dinner, and this is the thanks I get?”  

Akaashi looks significantly more displeased, unamused even when you stretch your hand out towards him, wiggling your fingers to get his attention. It reminds him eerily of earlier, when you had been trying to get him to stop frowning at you for wanting to take three gummies at the start of the movie. 

He takes your hand, curling your fingers into his palm and pressing a light kiss against your knuckles, then pressing them into his cheek with a soft, placated sigh. “You’re bad for my health.” He murmurs, completely serious despite it being a blatant lie. 

“Foods almost here!” Bo calls from down the hallway, and Kei gets up with a drawn out, pained groan to wait by the door. 

Before he can leave, you try to call for him, though your voice cracks on the single syllable of his name. He hears you still, and stops, crouching back down beside you and brushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. His eyes are soft, molten gold that glimmers when he looks down at you. “Hm?” 

“Kiss.” 

His laughter is soft and sweet, and his hands are warm when he cups your face and brings you in for a kiss. It’s chaste and gentle, the faintest pressure against your lips, mindful of how swollen and sore they’ve become. 

Sometimes it’s easy to forget how sweet Kei is, when he’s not trying to appear unaffected and distant from everything. He’s always softer when he thinks you won’t remember. 

Akaashi crawls onto the couch with you, and you roll onto your back to accommodate him as he sprawls himself over you. Tucking his face into your neck, his hands slipping beneath your back, your legs parting around the width of him as he settles between them. Warm, his weight is a comfort that helps keep you grounded as you climb out of your own head. The blanket is forgotten on the floor, though you’re sure if you get cold later someone will throw it over you.

“I got extra biscuits–Bokuto you are not allowed to touch more than one box, got it?” Kuroo sets his phone aside and gets up when Kei comes back in with several boxes in his arms, and Bo is quick to join them. Akaashi stays cuddled up with you, rubbing your back, nuzzling into your neck and whispering into your skin about how good you are, how sweet, how much he loves you. 

He always brings you back like this, talking you into coherence, wanting to make sure some of the first things you hear when you can process words again are praise and affirmations. While the others get the food set up, he’s slowly coaxing you back into full sentience. 

It’s his favorite part, so they tend to let him be the one to do it most often, just like Bo gets to handle bath time. 

When you look down at him, blinking slowly, and he sees the first real flicker of comprehension on your face, he smiles. 

“Welcome back.” He murmurs, propping himself up on his elbows so he can lean over you, watching as awareness washes over you, crystal-clear, and then you’re smiling up at him. 

“Thanks, Keiji.” You meet him half-way when he dips down to kiss you, tangling your fingers into the thick hair at the nape of his neck and tugging, pulling him closer until his weight is fully settled over you again. He sighs against you, like he’s finally able to relax, tension draining away the more kisses you give him. “Miss me that much?” 

“Don’t push it.” He breathes, but he’s smiling against your lips and he makes no effort to hide it. “Do you think you can eat?”

“I could eat literally an entire bucket of chicken by myself.” 

His body trembles with his silent laughter, and then he’s up, moving to help you off of the couch while you clutch at the folds of your towel to keep it from slipping. 

Bokuto beams when he sees you walking on your own, immediately sweeping over with all the intensity of a storm as he picks you up. You yelp, locking your legs tight around his waist and then wincing when it sends a sharp stab of pain through your hips.

Kuroo thwacks him on the back, frowning. “Oi, frosty, you’re gonna be banned from hug privileges during aftercare if you can’t be careful.” 

Kei chimes in. “That’s the second time tonight.” 

“Snitch!” You gasp, snickering shamelessly when he shoots you a sharp glare, though the intensity of it is lessened by the way he instinctively seems to gravitate towards you, already moving from his spot against the counter to approach you and Bo. Waiting patiently, Bokuto holds you steady when Kei leans over to kiss you, pretty hands cupping your jaw to tilt your face how he wants.

“Bokuto…” Akaashi sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and stopping at the entryway into the kitchen, brow cocked and lips thinned with displeasure. “You know to be careful with her.”

Even though Bokuto is both taller and larger than Akaashi, he still seems to shrink beneath the force of that unamused, deadpan stare. Slowly, he puts you down, and Kei helps steady you when you’re on your own two feet again. 

“I’m alright, guys.” You reach across the counter to pluck a biscuit from one of the boxes, though you find your body still doesn’t want to cooperate with you. Akaashi moves the box closer, and accepts the little kiss you press to his lips with a smile. “The worst of it will be tomorrow, you can rag on him a little if he’s still not careful then. Okay?”

Bo pouts, leaning into your back and pressing his cheek against yours, arms winding around your waist as he hunches over you. “I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to hurt you.” He’s genuinely remorseful, regretful, even when he’s playing rough with you it’s clear he doesn’t like causing you pain. 

You tilt your head to the side, kissing him loudly on his rosy cheek before returning to your biscuit. “It’s okay, I’m not the one you’re gonna have to deal with if you make it to three strikes though.” Your smile is cheeky, playful when you feel him tense behind you.

You, Kei, and Bo turn in sync to look at Kuroo, whose hip is propped against the counter, arms folded over his chest while he watches you three. When he sees you looking at him, his grin slants into a smirk, a crooked stretch across his face that you know means trouble. 

“Who, me?” He purrs, pushing off of the counter and stalking towards you, slowly, one hand catching Bo by the chin to pull him along as he steps into your space. “You make it sound like I’m the executioner in this relationship.” 

You lean into him when he ducks down towards you, the bridge of his nose ghosting over yours. He crowds you against the counter, savoring the warmth of your lips on his when he steals a kiss. 

He presses as much of his body against you as he can, every hard edge met with a soft, plush curve, and he groans into your mouth even though surely he should be sated by now. His hands cup your jaw, thumb absentmindedly swiping away a lingering biscuit crumb from your cheek while he curves his body around yours, almost protectively, possessively. 

You indulge him for as long as you can, but you’re starving.  

“Has everyone gotten their fill?” You ask, though Kuroo doesn’t let you pull away far enough to speak properly, kissing you through your question despite how you try to squirm away. “I will literally die if I don’t eat–Tetsurou! Quit it!”

He laughs when you shove him away, sneaking one more kiss before you can properly fend him off and then sauntering back to his previous position to check his phone. It’s impossible to keep him from work for too long, but he’s taking the entire day off tomorrow so you’ll let him get away with it this time. 

Akaashi passes you a plate, allowing you to pick through the spread on the countertop to get what you want first. Kuroo must have ordered more than you asked for, extra boxes of biscuits and all of the sides, even an extra bucket of chicken that you’re sure won’t last as long as he thinks it will. Not with you and Bokuto in the same apartment, especially not with weed in the picture.  

They hover over you while you fill up your plate, never letting you move more than a few inches away from any one of them at a time, in case your legs give out or you can’t keep yourself up. You appreciate that they let you have your independence during this, sometimes the full coddling aftercare is nice, but usually it helps you come out of your subspace a little easier if you can do smaller things for yourself. 

Still, the scene was rougher than you anticipated, and the three edibles were definitely more than you planned for. Your body is still trembling, legs weak and threatening to collapse beneath your weight at any second, so you try to use the counter for support to make it at least a little more bearable.  

Akaashi rests a hand at the base of your spine when you begin to sway, and Kei catches you against his chest the moment your legs buckle. You groan quietly and let yourself slump into him, the warmth of his hands at the back of your head and between your shoulder blades a comfort. Akaashi comes closer, sandwiching you between the warmth of their bodies to keep you from falling. 

“Do you need us to do it?” He asks, voice soft as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He won’t push, not if you really want to do it on your own, but you can tell he’s hoping you’ll say yes. 

Or, you thought that was the case. 

Cool fingers take you by the chin and guide you in for a chaste kiss, something simple and soothing that takes care not to irritate your sore mouth. You lean into it with a soft, breathy murmur, but before you can fully reciprocate your plate is being taken from your hands while Akaashi holds you in his arms, keeping you pressed tight against him while Kei carries your dinner over to the coffee table in front of the TV. 

“What’s the point in asking if you aren’t gonna wait for an answer?” You huff, all false petulance and snark as you let him kiss you again, still greedy even though you thought he’d had enough of you throughout the night. 

Silly of you to think that any one of them will ever have enough of you. 

“A distraction.” He murmurs, completely without shame, between kisses. 

“You’re insatiable, Keiji.” Kuroo teases, breezing by with a hand ghosting over your arm, fingers trailing from yours to Akaashi’s. “We’ll have time for this tomorrow, though. She does need to eat.” 

It’s not often that Akaashi is the one who has to be, even if gently, reprimanded. His face burns with embarrassment, a rare and pleasant sight, and you find yourself grinning as you hold his cheeks in your hands to keep him from hiding it from you. 

For once, Bokuto is the responsible one. He gently steers you both by the shoulders into the living room, where Kuroo has already set out a few cold water bottles and some freshly dried blankets that are warm, fluffy and inviting. 

“Are we gonna finish the movie from earlier?” You ask, stopping at Kuroo’s side to give him a grateful kiss that he accepts with a lazy smile, a hand at your hip to keep you steady before he allows Bo to help you sit down. 

You’re tucked in quickly, a blanket draped over your lap, a towel, then your plate of chicken. Bokuto beams at you, crouched down so he’s at eye-level while he runs the ridge of his knuckles up and down your cheek. His eyes are half-lidded, a pretty flush on his cheeks with a dopey little smile curling at his lips. Lost in it, he doesn’t notice that the others have already begun filling their plates when usually he’d be first in line. It’s almost embarrassing, the way they dote on you, but every gesture carries with it a sense of urgency, the need to take care of you, familiar and practically a well-oiled machine at this point. 

He leans forward and brushes a kiss over your forehead, then lower to kiss your eyelids next, unable to hide his smile when your lashes flutter in surprise at the feeling. It’s the most meticulous you see him outside of the gym or the court, the careful way he maps out the features of your face with his lips, almost ritualistic in his need to do it after every scene. 

You’ve all learned how to take care of each other, and sometimes they know what you need even before you do, so you let yourself melt into him and even reciprocate a few of his kisses when you can tilt your face in time to catch his lips with your own.

He loves when you do that, but he does reluctantly part from you when Kei touches his back in a wordless signal that it’s his turn to get his food. 

“Do you want to finish it? We could try something else, you weren’t really paying attention earlier so we could just restart it and watch from the beginning.” Kuroo leans over your shoulder from behind the couch, straightening your blanket so the towel covers most of it while you’re eating in case you make a mess. Normally, if you did, they’d tease you. 

But your arms feel like they’re made of jelly and, while your mind is a little more clear now that you aren’t in a subspace, the edible is still going strong. No more teasing tonight, not of that variety anyway. He presses a quick kiss to your temple as he withdraws, though he does pause to give Kei one as well when the latter tucks himself in at your side.

Kei, surprisingly, leans into it, letting his head fall back just in time to catch the kiss with his mouth instead of his cheek. There’s a soft, pleased murmur, and then Kuroo is cupping his jaw with a large hand and deepening the kiss. They melt into it, into each other, with Kuroo bowed low over the back of the couch just so he can reach and Kei craning his head back despite the awkward angle. 

You soften, subdued and tired, and watch with something fluttery and buzzy blooming in your chest. Bokuto settles in on your other side, a bowl of everything thrown haphazardly together with a biscuit stuffed into his mouth. He smiles at you around it, or tries to, and the silly sight makes you feel warm, protected, it takes everything you have to keep eating and not just drift to sleep right there surrounded by the comfort of your loved ones.

Akaashi comes to sit on the other side of Kei, though he pauses in passing to give both you and Bo a sweet, slow kiss. Unhurried, he takes his time, his cold hands cupping your cheeks with his thumbs feathering over your cheekbones. There’s no lust behind it, nothing more than overwhelming affection that you can taste on your lips like sugar.

The move is rewound to play from the beginning, four bodies curled in together on one couch as your fifth takes his time picking through the spread to find what he wants to eat. Kuroo isn’t the biggest fan of junk food, but after all of the calories you burned even he isn’t going to argue that shitty takeout will hit the spot better than anything else. 

Still, you can hear him grumbling to himself like an old man as he reluctantly fills his plate with greasy chicken and fried potatoes on the side, you’re already dreading the micromanaging of your meals tomorrow. 

Always on the same wavelength, Bo nudges your side and ducks down to whisper, comically loud with a glitter of mischief in his eyes. “I bet Tetsu is gonna feed you nothin’ but green stuff tomorrow, wanna sneak out for some pizza during lunch?” 

You can almost hear the sound of Kuroo’s neck snapping as he whips around to face you, but you’re both steadfastly stuffing your mouths with biscuits to avoid questions, eyes innocently locked into the TV screen as though Bokuto hadn’t spoken up at all. Kei nearly chokes on his laughter, the only indication that Kuroo hadn’t just been hearing things. 

Even when it’s accidentally, he’s a snitch. Akaashi sighs, long and exasperated, but if you were to look at his face you’d find him smiling. 

Kuroo finally joins you, settling once more on the ground between your legs so he can stay close without having to squeeze himself in whatever little space would be available with four of you crammed onto one couch. 

With everyone settled and quiet, relaxed, you can focus on the movie and finishing your food. You have to eat slowly, your arms a little late to respond when you try to move, but it’s not impossible as long as you take care not to rush. 

Everything is greasy, salty, and you’re definitely going into a food coma the moment you get into bed, but after the workout you just endured it feels like the best meal you’ve ever had. Kei shares his sides with you after you finish yours, even though Bokuto tries to insist that he eat all of it because he never seems to eat enough, and Kuroo gets up to refill your plate with your favorites before you can even ask. 

You can’t help feeling incredibly lucky, right now. Listening to them banter, bicker, trying not to laugh as Kuroo complains about different aspects of the movie that he doesn’t like, then unable to hold the laughter back when Akaashi counters all of his points with a carefully controlled monotone. One of the quickest ways to piss Kuroo off. 

You drift, comfortable, sore but sated and now with significantly more salt in your system. While good at the time, now you’re craving something disgustingly sweet.

“Do we still have any ice cream?” You ask, voice still a little hoarse, cracking both from disuse and overuse at the same time. Kei passes you your water bottle, the condensation chilling the tips of his fingers, and you gently brush your nose against his in lieu of making him endure a greasy kiss as thanks. 

He returns the gesture gratefully.  

“We got some of your favorites earlier when Keiji went to the grocery store.” Kuroo tilts his head back, resting it atop your thighs so he can look at you.  “There’s a sale going on though, so if you want then tomorrow we’ll have Kou pick up more on his way home.” 

Your lips purse, fingers itching to work their way into his hair and play with it, but not wanting to touch him before you’ve had the chance to wash your hands. His lips twitch, corners curling into half a grin before he stifles it

Bo perks up, bumping his shoulder into you gently and giving you a sweet smile. “I could stop by that cat cafe to get you a coffee too, they have those cute little cups that you and Tetsu like.” 

You perk up, recalling the little latte he’d brought back after practice one day. “Can I have one of those cat shaped marshmallows in it? The pink ones.” You muster up the strongest puppy eyes you can manage, even knowing that there’s no way he would deny you, it’s more for dramatic effect and because Bo gets insane cute aggression, you like watching him agonize over fighting back the urge to squish you into his arms.

As expected, his brow furrows strongly, lips pressed thin as his fingers curl into fists. Though he looks angry, it melts away as he dips forward to kiss you on the mouth, loudly, completely unperturbed by the mess. “C’mon, I can do better than that. I’ll get you at least two.”

“And one of their white chocolate caramel cookies?” This time when you give him the puppy eyes, Bokuto breaks. He squeezes you by the cheeks and drags you in for a much louder kiss, smacking your lips together while cooing about how cute you are, refusing to let you pull away even when you’re cackling with raspy laughter and trying to pry his hands away from your face. 

“Bokuto.” Akaashi’s voice is gentle, but still cool enough that you stop roughhousing. You’ll regret it tomorrow, sure, but as you and Bo sit and giggle beside each other, sharing smiles with his arm wrapping around your shoulders, you can’t find it in you to think it isn’t worth it. You love moments like these, the domesticity, knowing that in a few years there’s a chance you look back and reminisce on it all with your loved ones fondly. 

Bo pulls you gently back against his chest, and you don’t protest when Akaashi gets up to take your plate into the kitchen, coming back just long enough to clean off your hands and give the four of you kisses before he’s returning to start washing the dishes. You can feel yourself drifting again, physical fatigue and the edibles both trying to drag you deep into slumber, worse now that you’re full and satiated on multiple levels. It’d be easier if you weren’t still in your wet towel, you’re sure you would have already fallen asleep by now if you were wearing something warm and dry.

Akaashi probably did that intentionally, wanting to keep you awake until they could get you into bed. 

“Hey, pretty.” Kuroo twists around so he’s on his knees, warm hands resting against your thighs where he taps his fingertips to get your attention. The position makes your cheeks warm up, that grinning face peering up at you from between your legs, self assured and still somehow sweet. “This look familiar?” He teases, but his voice is soft, and his arms loop around your waist for leverage as he scoots a little closer. 

You groan softly, planting your hand against his forehead to try and keep him at bay, but he’s undeterred. “Tetsurou I am so tired, please don’t do whatever it is you’re thinking of doing.”

He softens, melts, resting his head on your lap and squeezing you gently. “Just wanna hold you a little, that’s all.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to one of the many bruises littering your thighs. “Tsukki was greedy tonight, I barely got to see you.” 

Kei scoffs, petulant, but you simply hum and run your fingers through Kuroo’s hair, brushing it out of his face and watching as he becomes molten against you, languid and content now that you’re aware and willfully touching him again. 

He doesn’t like to show it, though he’s getting better at letting himself be vulnerable with you, but as much as he likes the more intense scenes you experiment with, they sometimes make him feel a little on edge afterwards. He likes when you want to touch him, and it often seems that your aftercare is as much for him as it is for you. Kuroo and Akaashi more than any of them need the reminder and reassurances that you love them after harcore play like this. 

“Do you wanna go lay down? We can cuddle and get all cozy since Kei changed the sheets for us.” You tip forward to brush your lips over his forehead, but he lifts himself just in time to catch you in a proper kiss instead. 

“Yeah.” He breathes, putting just enough distance between you that he can rest his forehead against yours. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

Kei taps his fingertips over your knee, dappling the sensitive skin there until you turn your attention towards him, your brow cocked high and your lips pressed thin to hide your smile. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep on your own tonight?” He asks, palm flat over your thigh and warm against your cool skin. He toys with the edge of your towel and pushes it up, slowly, half a smirk playing with his lips when you shiver at his touch. 

You shake your head, fingers buried thick in Kuroo’s hair, scratching until the man is groaning softly against your thighs and clinging to your waist, unperturbed even as you lean to rest your head on Kei’s shoulder. “No, I wanna sleep with you guys, don’t wanna wake up alone either.” 

He tilts his face down to brush a kiss into your hair, murmuring softly in understanding. His other hand joins yours in petting Kuroo, slow as his nails circle over the nape of his neck. 

“Nobody said it was my turn to be spoiled.” Kuroo tries for cheeky, all velvety confidence and snark, but it’s tempered by his softness and the lovey glow that surrounds him. His eyes are molten whiskey and his face is a little flushed, brows drawn tight together in a look of content adoration. 

“But you were so good to me tonight, Tetsurou.” You murmur, dropping your hand to cup his cheek, feathering your thumb over his lips and biting back a silky sigh when they part at your touch. “Only feels right that I love on you a little after all that.” 

He lets out an odd sort of chuckle, almost sheepish, blushing beautifully beneath your praise like he’s still somehow unaccustomed to it after all this time. 

“Last one to bed has to straighten all the blankets!” Bokuto gives you approximately a single breath’s worth of time for processing before he’s zipping down the hallway, surprisingly nimble despite his size. Akaashi is still standing in the kitchen, drying towel in hand, with a single brow twitching in thinly veiled exasperation. 

He softens when he catches sight of you, however, eyes lingering on Kuroo’s head on your lap and yours and Kei’s hands in his hair. 

“Go to bed, loves.” He hums, crossing his arms low over his chest and leaning against the counter. “I’ll finish up here, it won’t take me too long.” 

Kei shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your temple and ruffling Kuroo’s hair before standing up. “No, I’ll help. We should pack something for Koutarou’s lunch tomorrow anyway. He’ll forget.” 

You watch as he joins Akaashi in the kitchen, a blissful smile toying at your lips as you bask in the warmth of your little family. Kuroo moves, then, getting to his feet with a tired groan that morphs into a hiss when his joints begin to pop and crack.

“Gettin’ old on us, Tetsurou?” You tease, giggling and pulling your legs out of his reach when he tries to playfully swat at them. His arms find their way home around the bend of your waist, lifting you against him until you’re standing fully upright and letting him support your weight.

“I was old twenty years ago.” He huffs, dropping down to hook one of his arms behind your knees, gently gathering you against his chest before taking you into the hallway. 

Bokuto is already waiting for you in your bed, tucked beneath the covers and snuggled into Akaashi’s pillow. He brightens at the sight of you, arms stretched wide for you and Kuroo to fall into. 

So you do, Kuroo’s weight heavy against your back as he presses you between his body and Bo’s, the two smothering you with kisses and wandering hands that soothe your aches and help you melt against them. 

You almost whine when Kuroo presses his hand between your legs, fingers curling gently over your sex, but he doesn’t do more than that, just giving you a simple pressure to ease some of the pain. Bo’s hand glides along the plush of your thigh, the other curled up in the sliver of space between your bodies, where his fingers hook around yours. 

“Gonna miss you guys tomorrow.” His voice is soft, uncharacteristically small.

Your eyes flutter open, mirth spilling into your gaze when you look up to see Bo pouting, worry shining clear as a sunray across his face. 

Your chin lifts, and he’s quick to meet you half-way, lips softened and plush with some of Akaash’s balm. Against his mouth, you murmur– “We’ll miss you too, Kou, but you have a game soon and can’t afford to miss practice. Do you wanna video call during your lunch break so we can all eat together?” 

He brightens, lips curving into a smile that you can feel against your own. Kuroo pushes against you gently, scooting just a bit closer, and then the mattress dips between another body’s weight. Kei, stopping at your bedside just long enough to check on you. 

When a warm, tentative hand reaches across Kuroo to brush over your thigh, you hum into Bo’s mouth and lean into the touch so Kei knows it’s welcome. Grateful that you’re able to keep the AC on, you can already feel how your body begins to heat up, and it’s only going to get worse when the rest finally join you. 

Kuroo’s lips brush against your shoulder. “Want me to put the sheets in the freezer for a minute, baby?” 

You can’t help laughing a little, rolling back so you can look up at him with a wry smile. “I don’t know what weird link you have going on with my body temperature, but I’m fine, thank you.” 

He huffs, affronted and offended even as he traces a path of kisses up the side of your neck, slow and lazy while he rubs his thumb over the edge of your towel. “I’m just a very attentive boyfriend, it’s not weird.”  

“Speaking of attentive boyfriends.” Akaashi’s voice is dry, and Bo immediately sits up to greet him, responsive like a puppy. “Help her sit up so we can get that towel off, the sheets are getting wet.” 

Bokuto is the one to lift you, holding you upright while Kuroo unwraps the wet towel from your body. Akaashi sits on the side of the bed and holds out one of his softer night shirts, one of the ones that are off limits from being stolen by greedy partners. It feels like heaven against your raw skin as he slips it over your head, mindful of how sore your arms are when you push them through the long sleeves. He moves to withdraw, already miles away as he runs through his nightly routine in his head, but you catch him by the arm and press a quick kiss to his hand before he’s out of reach.

“Thank you, Keiji.” You murmur, his wrist twisting so his palm kisses yours, fingers lacing together as he brings your hand to his lips to mirror your gesture, though his kiss lingers longer than yours did.

“Of course, love. Lay down, Kei and I will be in soon.” He pushes on your shoulders, gentle but insistent, and you’re boneless as Bo pulls you back against his chest. Laying down with you curled up in his arms and Kuroo wrapped around you from behind, Bokuto can’t help smiling, the sun in his eyes as he practically glows with warmth, whole in a way that he’d never known he hadn’t been until meeting you. 

Now dressed and ready to go to sleep, Akaashi crawls beneath the covers and settles himself between your legs, his head on your stomach, one of his hands resting on Kuroo’s thigh while Bo’s fingers comb through his hair. 

When you look around to try and catch a glimpse of Kei, you find him standing in the doorway, arms loosely crossed over his chest while he watches the four of you cuddle up, a softness on his face that melts like hot sugar when he meets your gaze, though he can’t quite muster the same angry scowl that he usually hides behind.

But he doesn’t linger long, placing a water bottle on the nightstand before crawling to the other side of the bed so he can slide in beside Bokuto, who immediately rolls onto his back so he can pull him against his chest with a happy little hum. His other arm comes around you, so you join Kei in cuddling into Bo’s sides with Kuroo wrapped around your back. Akaashi is nice and cool between your legs, a balm against the overwhelming heat encasing you on all sides.

A warm hand settles over yours, fingers curling to find home in the spaces between yours, and your eyes flutter open to find Kei watching you with a sleepy expression mirroring your own, cheek squished against Bo’s chest. You move your joint hands to rest over Bokuto’s heart, feeling the steady rhythm of it and how it quickens at your touch. 

“I love you.” You murmur, towards no one in specific but directed at everyone. 

They respond in kind, hands that squeeze you gently and rub soothing swirls into your aching muscles, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin to trace the outlines of bite marks and hickeys, lips ghost along your neck and your face, your arms, the skin of your stomach, everywhere they can reach. They whisper it back, quietly in the way they touch you, the way they treasure you in the afterglow. 

However much pain you’re in tomorrow, it’s worth it for the moments like these, and the moments that will come after you wake up. 

Kuroo will try to insist on carrying you everywhere, even to the bathroom, just to be obnoxious. It’s to hide the worry, the way he’ll tease you to see if you have the energy to even get riled up, push your buttons just to see if you have enough bite to snap. A nervous habit, he can’t help but prod you the more stressed out he is, like he has to gauge how you’re doing first before he himself can relax. 

Never to the point of upsetting you, though. He’ll stop if it’s too much, he always does. He mothers you, makes you healthy meals to eat since he knows the others will be sneaking you junk, and you’re already dreading the spinach smoothie he’s probably going to set in front of you the moment you’re out of bed.

Akaashi will probably make a dessert for you. He knows you like to have brownies or cake with your ice cream, and he likes that you can lay on the couch cuddling with Kuroo or Kei while he bakes so he can still talk to you, so he can still see you. Your aftercare days are as much for Akaashi as they are for you, just a little more than the others. 

It’s the one day where he’ll really allow himself to spoil you, to dote on you without worrying about being “too much.” 

Kei will need to be on you at nearly all times, or at least touching some part of you. In a way, he and Akaashi are similar in the sense that they both feel they need an excuse to be “overly” affectionate, even if in different ways. ‘Kaashi is just nervous about being overbearing, always wary of crossing some unseen line or imaginary boundary that he’s imposed upon himself. Kei, however, just hasn’t gotten to a point yet where he can be openly vulnerable, not easily. 

Having a day for aftercare, or even just a rest day, is the perfect excuse for him to be unabashedly affectionate. He’ll drag you down to the couch and wrap himself around you, long limbs tucked around your body with his face buried in your neck, all under the guise of comforting you as though he doesn’t need it just as much. 

And then Bokuto will come home, sweaty from sprinting directly from the gym because waiting for a bus would take too long. He’ll drop his things in a trail from the front door to wherever you are, apologies on his lips for the complaining he knows he’s going to hear from the others, but then his hands will be on you and he’ll kiss you silly. Bo probably won’t let you go for the rest of the night, forced to share you with Kei who is just as stubborn when push comes to shove. Bokuto hates being away on these kinds of days, he’s only missed one other and it was just as miserable for him then as it will be tomorrow. 

Like he knows, even in his sleep, that you’re thinking of him, Bo pulls you a little closer. He snuggles into you with a soft, sleepy breath that spills across your lips, leaves you feeling warm and dewy inside at how he responds to you even when dreaming. You kiss him once, gently, then tuck your face beneath his chin, close to where Kei is curled up. His head tilts, a silent request, and you kiss him too. 

Sleep comes quickly, easily after everything you’ve been through. You’re tucked in on all sides with an overwhelming amount of body heat that is barely kept at bay by the AC. Exhausted, sore, your arms still abuzz with the remnants of your three-edible excursion, and you drift off content with the knowledge that this is likely going to be the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. 

Ephemeral oblivion

A/N: I'm loving the remake so far. So, expect more fics in the far future.

Word count: 3.8k

WARNINGS: fem!reader, porn with no plot, a bit of blood, teasing, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex

The snow-white door, peppered with elegant golden ornaments, lead to an eerie corridor. Unnerving -almost alarming- silence had fallen upon the prolonged space, contrasting the commotion of the previous room that had been overcrowded with hostile courtiers the two agents were forced to take out. The stone brick walls emitted coolness and a cold breeze oozed from the tall windows; the dust-covered glass revealed the dreadful night sky deprived of the gentle moonlight that was obstructed by a thick sheet of puffy, smoky clouds. A lonely antique brass floor lamp stood in a darkened corner, serving no purpose other than decoration; opposite of the lamp was a small wooden coffee table atop which rested a typewriter.

"That was close." Leon panted, hot puffs of air escaped past his agape mouth, his chest rose and feel back against the door. Beads of sweat had broken out on his fair skin, making it glow under the scarce moonlight; the muscles of his arms were tense as they pressed against the hard wood, the impact caused a few of his veins to pop out, trailing deep blue and purple creeks that trailed along his pale skin up to the pinnacle of his biceps.

"You don't say." (Y/N) tsked as she shifted her attention away from his masterpiece of a body, leaning against the cold wall just mere inches away from him and relished the pleasant sensation of the stone bricks cooling her overheated body instead. Her heart raced in her ribcage; every beat echoed loudly in her ears.

Once the effects of the adrenaline began to wear off, the pleasant coolness of the room quickly turned into an unbearable coldness. Despite having her arms wrapped around her torso in a hopeless attempt to preserve her body heat, (Y/N) shivered as the howling wind blew in the narrow space; the haunting noise only caused another set of shivers to run down her spine. Beside her, Leon seemed unphased by the cool weather and his lack of clothing; it almost made her blood boil at how carelessly he would walk around with a short-sleeved turtle neck the thin fabric of which unlikely did anything to keep him warm. Her envious eyes lingered on his form, continuing to doubt he was able to withstand the low temperatures, instead she sensed a spark rekindling deep within her that brought the warm feeling of thrill she so desperately tried to repress ever since the beginning of this assignment.

Blood traveled to her cheeks, blissfully warming them up; her pupils dilated further, darkening her gaze that continued to trace the outlines of his sculpturesque form that appeared silky smooth and flawless hugged by the gray material of his turtle neck that she couldn’t help but associate with a notional look of a fantasy creature, blessing her with its presence. Her hands trembled as the adrenaline had completely evaporated from her bloodstream and she was left with a wave of cold sweat that coated her shivering form. Heat radiated from his body, drawing her in. His captivating appeal repelled her as much as it attracted her. Even if she tried her best to distance herself from Leon in the end, she found herself clinging closer to him; it was a vicious circle she couldn’t get out of and she hated herself for it. From their very first encounter, (Y/N) knew she should avoid him, not get involved in a situation that may result in a heartbreak. Though, as if it was some sick joke the universe was playing on her, fate only brought them closer and now she was forced to deal with it.

"A 'thank you' would be nice." He looked at her. The blues of his eyes were deep, different hues collided together as his pupils dilated and ate away at the beautiful ocean of emotions, instead leaving behind gaping holes that -akin to a black hole- could swallow her whole.

"For what?" She raised her brow at him, her own gaze now locked on his as her eyes squinted.

"For saving your ass." The corners of his lips curled in a smug grin; he pressed his shoulder against the door, shifting his form so he was fully facing her. Intentionally or not, he successfully anchored her attention to his broad shoulders; (Y/N)’s eyes followed the outline of his form that threw a shadow across her much smaller one.

“And how exactly did you do that?” She stood on her tip toes, almost completely closing the already short distance between them. Leon’s hot breath hit her face as he let out a deep chuckle; the melodic sound resonated through her, tingling her senses in a way they have never been. Silence fell upon them; his icy orbs bore into her (E/C) ones as he darted his tongue across his bottom lip, coating it with saliva that glistened under the dim moonshine. (Y/N) felt her heartbeat picking up once more, in anticipation for the last drop to overflow the glass of repressed emotions and release the awfully obvious sexual tension between them.

“You get distracted easily.” He tailed off; his gaze observed her face, monitoring her features. “Take it as a friendly advice from me. Try not to daydream on the job, it could get you killed and I won’t always be there to watch after your ass even if I would like to.” He breathed out the last words, loud enough for (Y/N) to hear; the tone of his voice was suggestive, giving a double meaning to his statement. Heat rose to her cheeks; anger and embarrassment ran through her veins.

How dare he?

Pulling at the strap, tightly wrapped around his muscular chest, she held him from drawing back; her gaze- ablaze with flames of anger- pierced through him, causing him to freeze in place. Her eyebrow knit together casted a shadow above her eyes; his own darted between her captivating gaze and her oh so inviting lips.

“Maybe if you didn’t flirt with me every five minutes, I would’ve been able to focus on my job!” (Y/N) snapped back at him; the force of her grip grew as Leon’s face kept getting closer to hers with each passing second. “Perhaps you’re the one, who should stop daydreaming while on duty since your head is always in the clouds.”

“Is that so?” He dared, staring right back at her.

“Yeah. You can’t have every woman you lay your eyes on. Get it in that head of yours.” Her gaze darted downwards, breaking the eye contact for a split second- the single moment that took Leon to make a choice he might regret later. Digging his hand in her hair, he tangled his fingers in her locks as he closed the space between them. Soft lips crashed against hers in a passionate kiss that was both hesitant and needy. Boldly, (Y/N) leaned in and wrapped her arms around his neck; her nails lightly scratched at his skin, the sensation caused a whimper to rip through his throat and drown in her greedy mouth. Her fingers toyed with the hair at the base of his skull, dragging her nails along his scalp and digging them, intentionally coaxing the pretty sounds that resonated against her lips. Wandering hands traveled across the curves of her body, groping at any soft flesh they came across. (Y/N) bit at his bottom lip, breaking the kiss as she took her time sucking and pulling at the velvety skin. Continuing the abuse on his lip, she punctured the pillow soft flesh, causing droplets of blood to spill on her tongue and roll down her chin. The metallic taste tingled her taste buds as she lapped at his plum lip before she continued her venture down to his jaw. Sucking and kissing, she trailed the sharp line of the bone; Leon’s shaky breath tickled her ear. Strong force pulled her away right before she could reach the warm, delicate skin of his neck. Though she didn’t protest as she took a glance of his face; so worked up and messy. His mouth blood stained and agape, his eyes lustful and desperate, yet controlled and contained as they were focused on her.

“What’s up, Kennedy? Giving up so easily?” She tapped her fingers on his arms that held her at a distance.

“I didn’t expect you to be the freaky type is all.” Her heartfelt laughter resonated in his ears.

“Well, you better buckle up for what I got in store.” She shot him a mischievous look and leaned in for another kiss that Leon wholeheartedly welcomed all the while a similar impish grin curled the corners of his mouth. His palms ran down to her ass, groping the skin in a rough manner; (Y/N) whimpered, unintentionally granting him access to her mouth, where he sucked and bit at her tongue. She hissed; her nails dug in his flesh once more this time inflicting the same blissful pain on him. The calloused skin of his finger pads ran underneath the fabric of her gear, slightly pulling them down only to toy with the plush skin of her inner thighs. Shivers ran down her spine at the sensation of his cool digits rubbing in circular motions that were dangerously close to her aching pussy; the friction of his fingers on her velvety skin brought a warming sensation that made her forget about the chill inducing breeze. The air around them seemed to thicken; she felt breathless as Leon’s lips tirelessly pressed against hers.

(Y/N) gasped for air once he finally pulled away, a string of their mixed saliva connected their plump lips; their gazes were locked on one another, their foreheads were pressed against each other all the while their noses slightly brushed. Her breath was still shaky and her hands were clasped together around his neck, balancing her weight on him. The golden curtain of his bangs tickled her flushed cheek.

“Are you sure you want this?” His low voice was delicate and sweet.

“More than anything.” Desperation flickered behind the (E/C) of her almost invisible irises, hidden behind the gaping black of her pupils. A bright smile appeared on his face, making his stupid face all the more irresistible, though (Y/N) couldn’t appreciate the sight enough as she was suddenly lifted from the ground in a singular motion as if she weighted nothing. A yelp escaped past her lips at the grip of his arms tightening around her thighs; in return her own grip on him tightened as well almost chocking him under the impact of her hold. Though it seemed that didn’t bother Leon much, for his attention was focused on getting rid of the barrier of vexatious fabrics that restricted him from the pleasure he was so eagerly seeking. With his body he pinned her against the cold wall, whilst his hands worked on undoing her gear.

A gasp escaped past her lips as the cold air made its presence known with the cool breeze caressing her exposed ass, though Leon’s electrifying touch kept the flame within her ablaze; his hot breath and the warmth emitted from his body, made for a nice contrast to the freezing cold of the stone bricks (Y/N) was pressed against. For a few brief moments, Leon stood still with only his gaze scanning their surroundings in cautious manner; his attention was caught by the odd typewriter. The typewriter itself wasn’t strange but its presence in a desolate corridor was inapposite to say the least; so, without hesitation, Leon knocked it to the ground and sat (Y/N) on the table, where the machine was previously placed.

“Salazar’s not going to be happy when he sees this.” She remarked, the joking tone in her voice brought a smile to Leon’s face.

“A broken typing machine is going to be the least of his worries once we’re finished.” He struck her with a mischievous smirk as he got on his knees; hooking his fingers under the band of her pants, he pulled the fabric all the way down to her ankles. Holding her knees, he spread her legs apart; his gaze found hers all the while his palms crept up to her inner thighs, where his fingers rubbed circles into her plush skin. (Y/N)’s body jolted at his touch gentle and teasing as he avoided the place, she needed him most. Keeping his keen gaze on her, he toyed at her entrance, circling and pressing at her dripping hole without thrusting even an inch. The impact of his fingers on her aching core had her squirm, yet the stimuli was far from enough to grant her the actual pleasure she was seeking- or at least not in the amounts she wanted.

You’re so wet, sweetheart.” He remarked, a smug grin had curled the corners of his lips. “But I don’t skip prep so, you’ll have to wait a bit. I promise it’s gonna be worth it.” At first (Y/N) wasn’t pleased with his words; having thought of this moment in her wildest dreams for so long, her patience was wearing thin, though the words of protest drowned in the base of her throat and her mind went blank as she felt familiar pillow soft lips press against her sensitive bundle of nerves. Numerous moans and pants rolled down her swollen lips, her body shivered as the shocks of pleasure ran through her nerves. Pleased with her responsiveness, Leon hummed in delight; the vibration of his voice sent a new, stronger wave of pleasure that had her head rolling back and shamelessly moaning his name.

“You know..” He trailed off, (Y/N) practically felt his words against her pussy as her head was too clouded with the obscene delight of the situation, she found herself in, to be able to hear him properly. “As much as I like to hear your pretty sounds.” He spoke in between quick licks, making sure to not deprive her of the sensation that had her in the state of trance; his slick covered hand traveled up her body. “You’ll have to be quiet. Could you do that for me? I wouldn’t want anyone to crash our party.” She nodded eagerly, obliging without hesitation.

“Good.” Reaching her face, he prompted his index and middle fingers on her bottom lip. She darted the pads of his digits with her tongue, tasting herself off of him. Cautiously, Leon pressed his fingers against her hot tongue; he chuckled once she took them in her mouth. Her- now muffled- moans tingled his ears as he licked, kissed and sucked on her clit; he was almost out of breath, yet he kept going, rubbing circles on the place where his lips used to be every time he pulled back to catch his breath. Taking a glimpse of her, he noticed her eyes shut tight, sparkling droplets of tears had formed underneath the curtain of lashes, saliva spilled from the corners of her mouth and down his hand; the sight alone was enough to get Leon on edge if he wasn’t already, the growing excitement- restrained in his pants- made itself known as he was suddenly aware of the almost painful friction of the fabric of his gear rubbing against his hardened cock.

Pulling away, Leon took a deep breath in, in a failed attempt to ground himself as he took a hold of his throbbing dick through the fabric of his pants. (Y/N) whined at the lack of attention; stealing a glance of him, she saw him undoing his pants and eagerly stroking himself. Smug grin curled the corners of her mouth at the sight of him so lost in his own pleasure- the few moments he promised himself to calm himself down had turned into a minute, during which she carefully watched him all the while toying with her neglected clit herself.

A sequence of soft moans coming from the both of them composed a titillating melody that echoed across the empty space, breaking the dead silence of the lonely night. Leon’s eyes peeled open only to be met with the exquisite view of (Y/N); her fingers tirelessly pumped her hole, desperately trying to compensate for the pleasure he deprived her from, though seemingly with no effect. Stroking himself, he observed her- almost pathetic- striving to reach the pleasure she so desired. To him she looked adorable; her eyes were shut tight, her mouth agape with his name overtly rolling down her plump lips, creeks of tears traced paths along her cheeks. It took him all the willpower within him not to cum at the sight alone, and that’s when he decided he’s had enough of the foreplay.

Standing up, Leon took a hold of her legs; instinctively, she wrapped her limbs around his hips, bringing him closer to the point where she felt the weight of his cock, pressing against her lower tummy just mere inches away from her aching core. His darkened gaze bore into hers as he prompted his dick at the entrance of her dripping hole. The pad of his calloused thumb caressed her cheekbone, (Y/N) leaned into the touch as his hefty palm cupped her face, locking her gaze with his.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” He sounded serious, hesitant even, as if he wasn’t sure if it all wasn’t just another dream.

“Thought you wouldn’t ask.” She earned a deep chuckle from the man, which in return caused a tingle to form in her stomach; in return she smiled, pleased with able to make him laugh- genuinely. It almost felt awarding to be the reason behind his melodic laughter and charming smile- and god was she enamored by it.

“Hold tight.” Leon whispered in her ear, causing the tiny hairs on her neck to rise and bumps to cover the entirety of her exposed skin. Excitement rushed through her veins at the feeling of his hands caressing her hips and thighs before taking a hold of them; Leon glanced at (Y/N), silently asking for permission to grant them pleasure they both were yearning for. She kissed him as a form of a wordless sign of approval; her hands wrapped around his neck with her fingers tangling in his dirty blond locks, her nails lightly scratched his scalp as her grip on him tightened and loosened. Her breath hitched, her mouth fell open, a yelp escaped past her lips as the sudden, bittersweet feeling of being filled ripped through her core. Leon stood still, giving her time to adjust to the grith and length of him.

“Did I hurt you?” Concern was audible in his voice; his forehead pressed against hers. She shook her head no, giving him the relief needed for him to push all the way in. His lips pressed against hers, drowning the moans with his tongue that twirled with hers. Slowly, he pulled all the way out and glid the tip across her slit up to her neglected clit; in response, her body jolted and she whined at his teasing movements. Luckily for (Y/N), he soon pushed back in, instantly hitting a spot that had her seeing stars. Consistently thrusting in and out, Leon set a steady pace equally pleasurable for the both of them.

Gradually, her moans and groans grew more frequent and louder; her nails dug into his fair skin once again, leaving behind crescent marks on it. Biting at her bottom lip, Leon attempted to silence her sounds as they were too distracting for him to keep an eye out for any intruders- not that he really was able to do so. Quite the opposite, she groaned and let out a high-pitched moan as the tip of his cock hit her sweet spot. Once more, Leon kissed her; his hands groped her ass, kneading the flesh all the while bringing her hips flush against his, making it easier for him to continuously hit the places that had her squirm- and so he did. She was completely melted under his touch, eyes rolled to the back of her skull as if she was haunted by some diabolic entity, messy (H/C) strands stuck to her sweaty forehead, her entire body bounced at the impact of his merciless thrusts. His pace was quite rough, yet (Y/N) wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leon’s muscles tensed, his vision got blurry as the only thing he could sense was the pleasure, threatening to unfold and her sweet voice on his lips. Her velvety folds hugged him so perfectly and her juices generously coated his cock, making for the erotic melody of wet sounds and the ones of skin slapping skin with each of his rough thrusts. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer and nor could (Y/N). Her body jolted, her grip on him grew even tighter, her back arched off the cold wall she was pressed against under the impact of his body that pinned her. She pulled away from his greedy mouth, gasping for air; pulling on his hair. Near his earlobe, she whispered his name continuously akin to a mantra, her lips brushed against his ear, until a single, loud moan ripped from deep within her throat. Her vision got blurry as the wave of pleasure finally washed over her, unraveling the coil that had formed in her tummy. Though Leon kept going, pushing in and out in pursuit of his own high; her sweet sounds, tingling his ears, brought him dangerously close to his high sooner than he anticipated and the clench of her plush walls around him was enough to send him over the edge. Hot loads of cum coated her pussy. (Y/N) burned in overstimulation as he kept thrusting, riding out both of their highs until his thrust got sloppy and he slowed his pace.

For a few moments, that felt like eternity, the two stayed intertwined, catching their breaths as they came down from their orgasms. Glancing at each other through hooded, drunken eyes the two chuckled in disbelief, the pure joy in their laughter resonated across the room. Gently, Leon tucked a strand of hair that fell in her face, the tiny gesture so warming and full of affection.

“Why haven’t we done this earlier?” She panted; the breath flowed through her burning lungs.

“Well, I’ve been trying to get in your pants since the day I saw you.” Leon winked at her.

“How romantic.” She playfully hit him as she got on her still wobbly legs.

“We should have a round two. Once we get out of this mess.”

“Yeah, but first we gotta clean our mess.” She got on her still wobbly legs and glanced at the poor table that had turned into a pond of their mixed bodily liquids.

“Sadler must have maids or something.” Leon tsked.

“Unless they are brainless creatures by now.” The two of them giggled, still intoxicated from the aftershocks of their highs.

Keep Going

Din Djarin x Reader (AFAB reader, no gendered terms used, just body parts)

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: The Mandalorian gets hurt while trying to capture a bounty. He comes back to the Razor Crest and you patch him up, making him feel better in more ways than one.

Can be found on ao3 here

A/N: I’m thinking this takes place before season 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Stop moving.” You tell Mando.

“It fucking hurts, Y/n.” He hisses as you clean the front of his wounded shoulder.

He wasn’t usually one to complain. Not like this, anyways. He’d just bite the bullet and suffer through the pain. But you could tell he was really hurting when he was verbal about it.

“I know. I’m sorry. Just let me take care of you.” You sigh, finishing cleaning his wound with alcohol before applying bacta spray.

He sighed with relief as the cool bacta met his skin, helping to numb the pain a little. You applied a gauze pad and taped it to him, standing back and looking at your work.

He was sat on the edge of his bed compartment, only in his helmet and pants at the moment. When he’d gotten back with his bounty, he was groaning as he put the criminal in carbonite.

You came down from the cockpit to see what was going on and saw how banged up he was. You helped remove his armor and boots and then turned away so he could quickly remove his helmet and shirt, turning back only when he told you it was okay.

You’ve been traveling with the Mandalorian roughly three weeks. He hired you as a maid of sorts. Doing all the menial tasks that were below his pay grade. Cleaning his weapons, armor, and ship. Keeping food stocked. Doing mechanical maintenance on the ship when needed, but he always liked to help with that part.

You put the med kit away and then turn back to him. You stare at his chest for a moment too long, then lift your eyes back up to his visor.

He was breathing hard, hands on his thighs, occasionally making a fist when a wave of pain washed over him. The bacta was fast. Just not that fast.

You step closer to him, now able to smell his woodsy scent. “Anything else I can do to help?”

There had been sexual tension between you and the Mandalorian from day one. That, you knew for sure. When he first interviewed you, to make sure you were the right person to hire, his handshakes lingered. He thought hard before each response to you. You’re pretty sure his helmet was tilted down just slightly towards your chest several times while he was questioning you.

“You’ve done plenty. Thank you.” Mando nods.

“A massage maybe?” You suggest quickly before he gets up.

He sighs. “It’s been years since I’ve had a massage. I would be grateful.”

“Alright, lay down on your stomach.” You smile at him and he does what you say, moving (slowly and carefully so he doesn’t hurt his shoulder worse) to lay down.

You admired his ass for a moment as he did so before climbing up into the compartment and straddling the back of his hips.

He lets out a long sigh as you do this, and you’re pretty sure he’s been touch-starved most of his life. In fact, based on what he’s told you about himself, you know it.

You start with his shoulders, careful not to press down on his injured one too much. You dig your thumbs in gently, repeatedly pressing them forward up the backs of his shoulders. He’s still breathing hard.

Your hands move down, gradually reaching his low back and moving back up.

He groans when you touch a particularly sensitive spot on his mid-back.

“Sorry. I can try and loosen it up. Or I’ll leave it alone if you want.” You offer.

“Please keep going.” He breathes.

You do as he asks, rubbing the spot in gentle circles to try and relax the muscle there.

You decide to dig a little deeper and you lean down, pressing your elbow into his back.

“Fuck.” He gasps.

“Shit, sorry.” You’re sure you’ve hurt him.

“Keep. Going.” He orders with a soft whine and you lean down once more.

You put your elbow against his back, pushing down and circling it. Mando’s breathing picks up, not harder, but faster. You watch as he fists his hands in the blankets by his head and it makes heat pool between your legs.

Once you feel the spot is relatively loosened up, you go back to using both hands to massage his back up and down. He lets out a shaky sigh.

“Don’t move.” He says quietly. Then he quickly turns over underneath you and-

Oh.

Oh.

Mando is hard as a rock, pressed against your heat.

You gulp. “Are we doing this?”

He nods up at you, hands resting on your thighs for a moment before slowly moving them up over your hips.

You bite your lip and grind down against him, moaning softly. He lets out a low sound, gripping your hips. You rock them back and forth against his crotch, wishing there was less clothing on you both.

You pull your shirt and bra off and his hands come up to cup your breasts. He squeezes them lightly, kneading them and playing with them, making your eyes flutter shut.

His hands move down after a minute, unbuttoning and unzipping your pants. One of his hands goes down into your panties, quickly finding your clit and teasing it with his fingertip.

“Fuck, Mando.” You breathe out.

“My name is Din.” He says sweetly as he pushes a finger into your wetness.

“Din…” you moan, opening your eyes again, looking down at him.

“You look so good like this. Feel so good.” He groans, thrusting his thick finger in and out of you slowly. “So fucking wet for me.”

You nod frantically, grinding down against his hand. “All f- for you.” You whine.

“I know, sweetheart.” He hums and pushes a second digit into you.

You gasp and brace yourself, hands on his chest. If he keeps going like this, you’re going to cum on his fingers.

He starts thrusting them faster, making them dip deep inside of you each time. You dig your nails into his skin, “Oh, Maker, yes.”

Din growls up at you, his hips bucking once to remind you how aroused he was. He continues fucking you with his fingers, getting you closer.

“Gonna- I’m gonna cum.” You breathe out, jaw dropping.

“Cum for me, baby. Come on, you can do it.” He coos, encouraging you.

You squeeze around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, cumming hard and whining his name.

“Fuuuck.” He sighs, working you through your euphoric high.

After a few moments, his fingers slow down and eventually stop, pulling out of you.

His free hand lifts his helmet just enough for you to see his chin, then his fingers covered in your slick come up to his mouth. He sucks on them for a minute, moaning around them and rolling his hips against yours.

“Maker.” You gulp. He has fairly groomed facial hair. Not too much, not too little. You wondered if he’d ever take the helmet all the way off for you. But for now, you were satisfied with this.

He pulls his fingers away and lowers his helmet once more. “Knew you’d taste good.”

You bite your lip and smile softly.

“Take off the rest of your clothes, sweetheart.” He rubs your cloth covered thighs.

You nod and get up for a moment, quickly getting naked. You watch him as he pulls out his cock and strokes it a few times. You almost gasp at the sight of it. It’s a beautiful cock, you think.

Din pats his hips at you, “Come sit.” He hums.

You gulp and nod, climbing back on top of him. You hover for a moment as he lines up against your entrance. Then you sink down onto his hardness.

“Oh, fuck.” You let out a broken moan, lasting until you were fully seated on him.

“You’re so tight.” He’s panting, gripping your thighs as he watches you.

This was probably the most perfectly full you’ve ever felt. No other person or even toy could compare to how this felt right now. He was throbbing inside you as you lifted your hips and then pushed down once more.

His short nails managed to dig into your thighs as you did this, leaving little crescent moon shapes. You bit back a moan, starting a medium pace of thrusting your hips up and down.

He held onto you like you were going to float away if he didn’t. His head was tilted back right now and you could see his beautiful Adam’s apple and the edges of his sharp jaw. Maker, you wanted to kiss it.

You plant your hands on his ribcage, supporting yourself as your body rolled on top of his. You lean down and press your lips to his collarbone and he shivers.

“You okay?” You look up at him.

“Haven’t- fuck… haven’t been touched in so long.” He breathes out.

“Like I said earlier…” you trail off, kissing his neck. “Let me take care of you.”

Din whines as you start to thrust down on him harder, barely nodding in response so his helmet didn’t hit your head with how close you were.

He’s almost shaking now, holding onto you tightly. One hand breaks away from your leg, reaching to the buttons on the wall inside the compartment. He shuts the door and then turns out the light inside.

“Woah, I cannot see anything.” You laugh a little.

“That’s the idea.” He says and you feel his arms reach up, take off his helmet and set it down by his head before grabbing your face and pulling you up to kiss him.

You whimper into his mouth, pussy squeezing around him. You’re both panting into each other’s mouths, tongues swirling and lips teasing each other’s.

“Din, you feel so good.” You whine and kiss him hard.

He kisses back just as enthusiastically, one hand moving down your back to grab your ass. The other hand finding your clit and rubbing it in circles with two fingers.

You groan against him, thrusting faster and rubbing down against him. You feel your thighs start to shake as your second orgasm gets closer.

“Not yet.” He moans into your ear, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. Your eyes roll back in your head as you try to keep from cumming too soon.

“Almost.” He reassures you and kisses your neck, his facial hair making you tingle delightfully.

“Fuck.” You whine into his ear, not knowing how much longer you could go.

His hips start bucking up in time with yours, pushing somehow even deeper into you. “N- now.” He sighs as his cock twitches and he releases inside you.

As he fills you, your body goes into overdrive, second wave washing over you. “Din-!” You gasp, slamming down onto him hard.

He grunts as he fucks up into you, both of you gradually slowing. Once you’re both stopped, you stay on top of him, warming his cock.

“We should’ve done that weeks ago.” You sigh happily.

Din’s chest vibrates as he laughs softly. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh without the modulator in his helmet and you could really imagine getting used to it. But you tried not to get too far ahead of yourself.

“We only met a few weeks ago.” He hums.

You kiss him sweetly. “I know.”

Stucky x reader

Brave New World - a/b/o au, alternate reality, Silverfox stucky x reader

Dear Darling - werewolf!Steve Rogers x human!Reader x vampire!Bucky Barnes, soft dark, au, mob au

Lion’s Den - a/b/o au, mob au, triad, trigger warnings for mentions of emotional/physical abuse

Of Ash & Dust - dystopian au, society sorted by social rankings, only three Avengers are alive

Taken - mob au, polyamory, parker!sister!reader, snarky reader, slow burn

Ugly - Cinderella retelling, historic au, Prince Charming, ugly stepsister au

Wildest Dreams - alpha!Steve x omega!Reader x alpha!Bucky, football au, university au, a/b/o

sweating bullets | john "soap" mactavish

summary: after a sparring session with soap, you find him up late at night and decide to do some late-night cardio

pairing: john "soap" mactavish x afab!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, oral (fem + male receiving), riding, needy soap

notes: this is a continuation of my "sparring" fic, but could also be read on its own :)

taglist: @cyberdecayed @wuv4eva @solarslushee

Soap would be lying if he said he didn't know why he was up.

He knew exactly why he was still up and it was eating him up inside. He kept tossing and turning in his bed, thinking about you. Thinking about how he held you down on the floor and how easy it was. He knew he was wrong thinking about this, it made him feel awful for the thought even slipping into his mind. He thought of himself as a pervert and would mentally curse himself out for even thinking about touching himself to the thought of you.

He had to get his mind off of it.

A sigh escaped his lips as he swung his feet over the edge of his bed. His feet pressed to the cold floor as he stood up and he put on some socks before going to his doorway.

-

Your eyes fluttered open slowly and adjusted to the dark room. It was the middle of the night, you knew it had to at least 3 am. You groaned as you tossed in your bed sheets. You threw them off of your body as you had to get up and use the bathroom. Reluctantly, you stood up from the side of your bed and yawned before walking out of your quarters.

You used the bathroom and washed your hands and started back towards your room. You stopped as you saw a light in the corner of your eye that seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Your eyebrows furrowed together in curiosity as you slowly walked down the hallway and made your way to the kitchen. You squinted and your eyes adjusted to the light as you got into the kitchen and you noticed Soap there.

"Sergeant?" You asked softly.

Soap almost jumped out of his skin when he heard someone speak. It certainty didn't help when he turned around and saw you standing there. His chest heaved up and down, still on edge from you scaring him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." You chuckled.

"No it's- it's alright." He says with a nervous smile. He swallows harshly and nods, still trying to get rid of his thoughts from earlier. It wasn't very easy when you were standing in front of him in pajamas.

"Can't sleep?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. He scoffed with a smile as he shook his head. "No." He said briefly.

"Nightmares?" You pressed.

"Not exactly." He says. "Did you have a nightmare?" He adds quickly.

"Not tonight." You say.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the scene growing more awkward by the second. "Are you hungry? Your stomach keeping you up at night?" You broke the silence and stepped closer to him, standing next to him at the counter as he looked like he was making a sandwich of some kind. "Uh - kind of. Thought it might take my mind off of things." Soap chuckled, looking you up and down from the corner of his eye.

"Really? What could be keeping you up so late, Sergeant?" You asked, turning to him with a smirk on your face.

All he did was scoff and smile as he turned to face you. Your smirk grew wider as you caught his attention. "A lot of things." He said in a gruff voice as you leaned your back against the counter. "Is that so?" You added and crossed your arms. He inhaled and exahled as he placed one hand on his hip and leaned on the counter.

"What's really on your mind, Johnny?" You pushed as you stood up and inched closer to him. He pressed his lips tightly together and looked down as he shook his head with a smile on his face.

"I could tell you but it wouldn't be appropriate." His voice was almost a whisper but you heard him loud and clear.

Even Soap himself was surprised by his comment. He didn't know why he said that and didn't know where he got the confidence from. Maybe it was the fact that he was still half-asleep or the fact that he is so desperate for your touch. You were a bit taken aback by his comment, not thinking he would actually admit anything, but you'd be damned if you weren't going to take this opportunity. You inched closer to him as you saw his nervous eyes looking into yours and down at your lips rapidly.

You took a leap of faith and pressed your lips against his and captured him in a sloppy kiss. A desperate groan escaped his lips the second you kissed him. You brought your hands up and wrapped them around his head, gripping onto his mohawk. Soap instantly wrapped his big arms around you and lifted you up and sat you onto the edge of the counter, not breaking the touch of your lips together. Your legs instantly wrapped around his torso and locked together, trapping him closer to you. He almost whined at your action and hand his hands all over you. "Take me to your room." You breathed out, breaking the kiss for a second. Soap instantly obeyed and had his lips back on yours as he wrapped his large hands around your body and lifted you up once again. Your arms held tightly around his shoulders, your nails digging into his shirt.

He walked slowly to his room, keeping his lips on yours, his mouth hot and desperate. He walked into his room and turned you around so that he could press your body against the door, closing it in the process. Your hand reached down and locked the door. He pulled your body away and made his way to his bed and laid you down, you still had your legs wrapped around his body.

"Is this okay?" He asked, breathing heavily as he broke the kiss and looked down at you for a moment. You chuckled and replied, "Yes." He clashed his lips back onto yours, moaning into your lips. His rough hands laid on your stomach and slowly sneaked under the hem of your shirt. He reached up under your shirt and his hands roamed up your torso, stopping to land one of his hands on one of your breasts. You gasped into his mouth as his hand squeezed your breasts.

Soap could almost cum from just hearing your moans, it made him weak in the knees. He pulled your shirt up and over your head to reveal your bare chest. This man was so in awe of every part of your body and wanted to enjoy every inch of it. His hands laid on your sides as his lips pressed against your jawline and slowly made his way down your neck and to your chest. He stopped at your breast and circled his tongue around your nipple. You whined and kept your hands tightly wrapped around him, your nails digging into the back of his neck.

"God fuck — you don't know how much I wanted this." He admits in a low voice.

You chuckled and breathed out heavily. He went further down until he was kneeling on the wooden floor. He grabbed ahold of your thighs and pulled you closer to him, he kept a tight grip on both of your thighs as he stayed between your legs. He lifts himself up for a moment to slowly pull down your pajama bottoms, along with your underwear.

"Fuck — " you cursed as you felt his hot breath inches away from your core. Soap reached his hands up to lay on your sides as he licked a stripe up your folds. You instinctively shuttered and let out a small whine, which was all a sign for Soap to keep going. He buried his face in between your legs, letting his tongue explore every part of your pussy. You gasped and laid your head back on the bed, gripping the sheets next to you tightly. Johnny ate you out like he had never had a meal before, like he was going to die if he didn't. He was desperate.

Your hands reach down to his hair and pulled on the strands of his mohawk. "Oh fuckin' hell." He cursed, you could feel the vibrations of his words on your folds. He brought one of his hands down from your sides to press onto your clit. He massaged your clit softly as sucked on your pussy. Your hand clutched over your mouth, not wanting to be too loud and remembering that there are other people in the rooms around you.

He pressed one of his rough fingers into you, you cursing out his name in response. His finger moved in and out of you as he kept his tongue moving inside of you. Your hips bucked up into him, causing a moan to escape from his lips as he pushed your hips back down.

"Please, Johnny — " you whined out.

Fuck, he could cum in his pants right there just from your voice and the taste of you on his tongue.

He continued at this pace, speeding up a bit as he added another finger into you, his thumb pressing up on your clit. You were close and he could feel it from the way you clenched around him. "Jesus — cum on my tongue, please lass." He begged, pulling his mouth away for a moment just to dive back into you. You cursed as you clenched around him even tighter and felt your orgasm approaching.

"Fuck, I'm about to — " you started.

"Yes lass, do it." He encouraged.

You bit your lip as you clenched tightly and felt a rush of heat hit you as you released. Soap moaned into your folds and sucked up your juices like he was starving.

Your chest heaved up and down as you were coming down from your high. You held you wrist over your forehead and a small smirk was plastered on your lips.

"Fucking hell." He cursed as stood up from his knees. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over you as grabbed ahold of the nape of his neck and harshly crashed your lips into his. He was a bit taken aback by your assertiveness but completely obliged. You pushed against him, wanting to have him on his back on the bed, to which he happily obeyed. You climbed over him and straddled his hips, feeling his hard cock beneath you.

You tugged at the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. His muscular abdomen almost had your mouth hanging open. You knew Soap was strong but the definition in his muscles still shocked you. You leaned down and kissed him again, your hands roaming over his chest, feeling every crease and scar on his body. You grinded your hips softly against his clothed cock as he whimpered into your lips. You moved the kiss from his lips, down to his neck, and then his chest. You kept moving down until you reached the hem of his sweatpants.

"Fuck — please, lass." He whined. You'd never heard this side of him, so desperate and needy. It was a real ego booster.

You bit your lip as you pulled down both his sweatpants and boxers to reveal his throbbing cock. You knew Soap was a big man, of course he was big in all ways.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft and pumped up and down a few times. He bucked his hips into you, cursing as he gripped the pillow behind his head. "You're so needy, Johnny." You teased as you moved your hand on his shaft. "Such a different side of you, Sergeant." You added.

"Don't do this to me, please." He whined as he breathed heavily. You chuckled as you kissed up his shaft, causing a groan to escape his lips. You licked around his tip, feeling his body shiver as your tounge touched him. "I need it so bad, lass." He added.

You smiled before taking him into your mouth, going about halfway down his shaft. He let out a moan as he laid his head back onto the pillow. You bobbed your head up and down on him, your hand on the rest of his shaft.

"Fucking hell — I can't take much more." He whined.

You brought your head up and away from his cock. He groaned in frustration at the loss of contact and looked at you. "You can hold off just a bit longer, Johnny." You teased as you moved upward. You hovered over him and aligned his shaft with your pussy. "Fuck, please." He breathes out as he lays his hands on your hips. You could almost laugh at his neediness.

You slowly sunk down onto his cock, him letting strings of curses fall from his mouth. Your chest heaved up and down before you began slowly grinding on his hips.

"Steamin' bloody Jesus — " He cursed, his hands tightly squeezing onto the flesh on your hips.

You pressed your hands onto his muscular chest as you moved up and down on his cock. You breathed heavily, feeling beads of sweat fall down your body. He groaned as he felt your walls clench around him. His hands reached up and roamed your chest and stopped to squeeze yuor breasts, causing you to gasp. The sound of wet slapping filled the room as you began moving faster on top of him. You leaned down and captured his lips in a long and sloppy kiss. Your hands wrapped around his neck and held onto him tightly. He moaned into your lips, his large arms wrapping around your body to hold you close.

"Goddammit lass, I'm gonna — " He broke away from your lips.

"Johnny." You breathed out, keeping the same pace as you moved your hips.

"Oh fuck — " Soap cursed as you clenched around him. You moaned loudly as you felt your orgasm hitting you as you bobbed on top of him. Soap felt his coming soon after, his hands moved back to your hips and tightly gripped on to your skin. He moaned loudly before thrusting up into you a few more times before pulling out and cumming. He spurt up onto your chest and some fell back onto his own chest.

Your breath heaved heavily as your legs shook on top of him, you held onto his chest for support. You both laid there, still with you on top of him, breathing as if you'd had just come back from a heavy workout.

"Oh my god." You whispered as you laid your forehead on his chest, feeling his fast heartbeat. Soap's arms once again wrapped around your body and pulled you closer to him. Your sweaty bodies were pressed against each other as you felt each other's heartbeats.

"I've never heard you beg like that, Sergeant." You teased as you brought up your head to look at him. "Oh, shut up." He said in that thick accent. You chuckled at him before sitting back up.

"Think you'll be able to sleep now?" You smirked. "Oh yeah, like a baby." He responded.

"Actually, how about we take a shower and clean up?" You suggested.

"Yeah, good idea." He smirked.

explicit/mature themes marked with🔥

• eyes without a face🔥 ➢➢part II🔥 • the way i am (ao3) • possessive/jealous headcanons ➢➢more🔥 • nsfw headcanons a-z🔥 • a first time for everything [ft. johnny 'soap' mactavish]🔥 • his scars + body worship • love on the brain • triumvirate [ft. könig]🔥 • sub!ghost🔥 • cuffed🔥 • wedding band • that time you wore his hoodie🔥

modern warfare 2: ghost (comic series)

🗲 issue #1 🗲 issue #2 🗲 issue #3

• your love is king🔥 ➣➣part II🔥 • body worship + praise kink • sub!könig🔥 • triumvirate [ft. simon 'ghost' riley]🔥 • butt stuff🔥

• i want you to want me🔥 • call me any, any time🔥 ➢➢johnny comes home🔥 • relationship headcanons (sfw and nsfw) ➢➢more (sfw and nsfw)

• the captain of my sea🔥 • magic fingers🔥

PROFESSOR PRICE MASTERLIST

Since I do not plan on posting the Prof Pice fics in any form of order (inspiration is a fickle thing), I'm listing them below in the best sequence to read them, and I'll keep updating this as I go.

(Gif by @yeyinde)

Invitations

Cufflinks

Finer Things

When You Realize

Lessons Learnt

To Know You Is Hard

If You'd Just Let Me

Under the Desk

Patience and Promises

Give You My All

Drunken Ties

Just As

Demonstrations

Promises

Fog and Clarity

No One Else

Please Come Home (For Christmas)

Call(s) and the one pic exchange

Homecoming

Side Drabbles:

Quickie Before Class

Quizzing

T-shirt to class

Closet Fuck

Cold as Hell (Ghost x Reader)

141 is on a mission in Russia. Y/n and Ghost share a bed, for body heat purposes.... until she feels his huge fucking cock.

Warnings: mostly smut. some degrading and overstimulation but that might be it. p in v sex, unprotected, oral (m/f receiving), fingering (f receiving). MDNI

Word Count: 2.6k First true smut work. Unedited, I don't know anything about the game but I am down ferociously bad for this man.

Of course, their mission had to be in Russia. And of course, she was the only girl. Their assignment was in the morning, so they had been given a safe house. Because it was a safe house, it didn’t have heat, so they were going to freeze all night. 

The General assigned sleeping partners, signing off the call with “body heat only helps if there aren’t layers between.” Basically, sleep naked. Everyone was given a partner but her and Ghost, and it was well known Ghost slept alone. 

“Well, guess that’s that,” Soap said. “Night everyone.” Slowly, people disappeared to their rooms. 

“Soap, wait,” she grabbed his arm as he turned. “Can I please share with you and Price?” She didn’t do well in the cold. 

“I don’t know about that, y/l/n,” he started. “We’re both pretty big and…. well, you ‘erd the general.” 

“I’ll keep my underwear on, please Soap-“

“I’m sorry, Gaze.” He turned, disappearing down the hallway and into his room. She huffed, dreading her own room. She turned back to Ghost. 

“Get some rest,” he said, going upstairs instead of down the hallway. Of course, highest rank gets the biggest bedroom. 

She slumped to her room, closing the door taking off her armor. ‘Sleep naked’ wasn’t really effective if it was just one person, so she kept most of her layers on. 

She pulled the blanket over her head, breathing hot air out of her mouth hoping to warm the covers. She curled up, cursing the snow and the rain and anything she could think of. 

Two hours later, and she was still freezing fucking cold. She was desperate, willing to do borderline anything for some damn warmth. She slipped her boots back on and started heading down the hallway. 

She knocked on every door, begging them to share with her, and every one of them said no. She couldn’t blame them, she understood why, but it left her freezing. 

She sighed, realizing there was one door left. But Ghost slept alone, everyone knew that. Fuck it, what did she have to loose? 

She started upstairs, the wooden boards creaking underneath her. She made her way to the closed door and knocked gently. 

“Lt?” 

“Come in.” 

She opened the door, seeing him already in bed. He had on a shirt and pants, and of course the balaclava. She closed the door behind her. 

“Everything okay?” He asked, his voice more deep than normal, if that was even possible. He had clearly been asleep, or at least about to be. 

“I was just gonna ask if-“ her words caught in her throat, her mouth dry. 

“If-“ again, she froze. She knew she had a little crush, but the thought of actually asking him filled her with embarrassment. 

“Spit it out, Gaze.” 

“Right, sorry sir. Can I sleep with you? Share a bed, I mean,” she fumbled, her cheeks warming up. “Everyone else said no and I’m freezing to death. Can’t go to sleep.” 

He stared at her, weighing his options in his head. “You understand what that means, don’t you?” He asked, brow raising clearly through the mask. 

“I’ll keep my underwear and bra on, sir,” she offered, feeling him burn holes into her as he stared. He didn’t respond. “Please, Ghost.” 

He let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. Come on,” he said, sitting up and taking off his shirt. He slipped his pants off underneath the covers, dropping them to the floor. He didn’t touch the balaclava. 

She sighed in relief, starting to pull off layers until they were equally exposed. She tiptoed around to the other side, the floor cold against her feet as she hurriedly climbed in. The bed was warm, making her sigh as soon as she laid down. She let her shoulder touch his, not wanting to push anything. 

Though it was definitely warmer than her own bed, she still shivered slightly. After ten minutes of her movement, it was clear Ghost was annoyed. 

“You ever gonna stop twitching, Gaze?” 

“Sorry, sir. Don’t do well with the cold. Barely even snows where I’m from.” 

“I can’t sleep with you shivering.” 

“Sorry, sir.” 

They fell into a silence, her squeezing her legs to try and stop the shivers. A gust of wind shook the house, making her shivers exponentially worse. 

“Christ, come here,” he muttered, tugging her arm towards him. She wrapped an arm around him, laying her head against his chest as he held her. She felt his muscles peaking through the skin, her nail tracing them delicately as she warmed up. She pressed every inch of her against him that she could. 

“Thank you, Lt,” she mumbled against his skin. “Promise I won’t tell anyone.” 

He grunted in response, hand unmoving against her back. He was distracted, immensely, by her scraping against his skin. It was light enough that it didn’t hurt, but it sent goosebumps up and down his body. Every silly shape she traced made his heart rattle against his rib cage. Her touch was borderline electric, sending sparks down his back and exciting him. He was praying to any gods out there that her hand wouldn’t slip low enough to notice the erection in his boxers.  

“Everything okay, Ghost? Your hearts racing.”

“‘m fine,” he replied, gripping the bed sheets a little too hard. Another wave of goosebumps erupted over him. “Can you stop that?” He snapped, harsher than her meant to. 

“Sorry, sir,” she replied, pulling her hand back to her side. As she brought it closer to her, she grazed the elastic of his boxers, pushing him even further. 

“Christ, are you doing that on purpose?” he groaned, catching her hand by the wrist. 

“Doing what?” 

“Driving me mad. Teasing me like it’s a fun little game.” He stared down at her, eyes sharp and tempting. He moved her hand further down, tracing his hard on. 

She felt her stomach do a cartwheel, the size of him present through his boxers. The cold definitely didn’t affect him that badly. She wrapped a finger around him, pinching his underwear and making him groan. He held his stare, eyes dancing with mischief and begging her for more. 

“I have another idea to keep us warm, Lieutenant.” He let go of her wrist, letting her hand travel below his waistband, scraping lightly all around his throbbing cock, but never quite touching it. 

“And what might that be, sweetheart?” He asked, eyes daring to shut at her touch. 

She wrapped her hand around him, slowly stroking him. He was already dripping precum. A groan erupted from the back of his throat, his head falling back against the pillows. The balaclava perfectly outlined his Adams apple as it sat tight against his throat. 

She used her free hand to wiggle his underwear down to his knees, readjusting where she was over his legs. He lowered the blanket to see her, careful to still keep her covered. She slowly brought the tip of his cook to her lips, circling her tongue around the head. 

His eyes rolled back in his head, a string of curses flowing from him. She took him in slowly, using her tongue to trace the thick vein along the bottom of his shaft. 

“Fuck, babygirl, just like that,” he whined, slowly thrusting his hips up into her mouth. She hummed around him as she bobbed, using her hand as compensation for the length she couldn’t take. His hand made his way to her hair, tangling his fingers as he pushed and pulled as he pleased. 

His dominance was pure aphrodisiac. She felt her walls clench around nothing, begging for him. She let her free hand wander to rub her clothes clit, desperate for any stimuli. 

“Taking my cock so well, Princess,” he praised, his eyes filled with desire. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking him fully and making him groan. She whimpered around him. 

He pulled her off, watching a string of saliva form from her lips and connect to the tip of his throbbing, swollen cock. Tears were beaded on her eyelashes, cheeks red and lips plump. He slid his thumb over her lips, eyes lighting up when she sucked it instinctively. 

“Good girl,” he called, earning a moan from her that sent goosebumps over his body. He let his thumb fall from her mouth.  “You like that, sweetheart? Like being called my good girl?”

“Yes sir,” she responded, voice airy and cracked. 

Ghost gently grabbed her chin, making her look in his eyes. “I think it’s your turn, darling.” 

She moved next to him on the bed, watching him adjust until he was towering over her, holding himself up by the knee and elbow. His face was so close that she could feel his breath, even through the mask. His eyes pierced into hers, taking in every detail. They flickered down to her lips, making her damn near drool. 

“Ghost, please….. take it off,” she mumbled, fingering the edge of his mask. He grew visibly tense, and she decided not to push her luck. She let her fingers tail down his collarbone. She looked at where his lips would be, if not for the mask. 

His hand traveled down between her legs, tracing over her clothed cunt. 

“Already soaking wet, and I haven’t even touched you,” he muttered, his voice low. He moved the underwear to the side, rocking back on his knees to get a good look. Her pussy was dripping for him. 

She whimpered, grinding down onto the bed sheets for friction. He chuckled to himself, watching her squirm at his absence. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He asked, fingers dancing up her thighs. They ran through her slick, spreading it up to her clit and teasing it. She moaned, feeling his fingers tease the entrance of her needy hole. 

“Use your words, darling,” he hummed. 

“You, anyway you’ll have me,” she moaned, desperate to be full. “Please, Simon.” 

His demeanor faltered, his cock twitching at his name. Besides Soap, no one ever used his name, especially not in this context. But he'd be damned if he didn’t hear it again. 

“Atta girl,” he groaned, lowering himself between her legs. He pressed a long, thick finger into her aching cunt, earning a whine of approval from her. He curled it as his thumb circled her clit, watching her reactions closely. 

He slid the balaclava until it rested on his nose, his face covered by her own body. She watched him place delicate kisses on her thighs, nibbling slightly as he pushed another finger in. Her vision blurred temporarily, her fist balled up in the sheets. 

Finally, he took a long lick across her sex. She was sweet, just as he thought she would be. 

“Holy shit, lieutenant,” his tongue attacked every crevice of her pussy, lapping up everything she had. The call of his rank made him groan, vibrating against her skin. 

“Y’fucking delicious, Gaze,” he whined against her, pumping his fingers with more force. 

Every time he hit that spot, euphoria shot through her veins. Every move he made was a fire erupting over her entire body. She could feel her nearing her release. 

“Ghost, please I’m right there- mph.” 

He hammered into her, tongue flicking her clit. She writhed underneath him, her moans airy. She brought her own hand to her breast, toying her nipple as he peered up at her. 

“Simon please-“ she whimpered, his fingers going at an unbelievable pace, her eyes fluttering closed. 

“Eyes on me, love,” he instructed, his voice sending shockwaves over her body. She met his gaze, goosebumps erupting on her skin. Tears of pleasure threatened to fall as the feeling became overwhelming. 

Every noise that escaped those pretty lips was music to his ears. He could stay here forever, listening to her beg him to cum, tasting her sweetness, watching her lose control with every move he made. 

“Fuck, don’t stop, please-“

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he groaned, keeping his pace as she came unwound around him. His fingers were drenched by her cunt, her moans echoing off the walls as her words turned to whimpers. He lapped up every ounce of her he could, holding her hips steady as her heels dug into the mattress. He fucked her through her high, beads of sweat trailing down her thighs. 

She stuttered out whines, heart pounding in her chest. He moved the mask back down, his hands traveling up her body as he moved up to her neck. 

“Tell me what you want, love,” he groaned, his breath hot against her ear. She let her hands explore his stomach, lips pressing against his neck. 

“Fuck me, Simon. Fuck me to hell and back, fuck me until I can’t even moan anymore. Make me yours.” 

A primal growl came from his throat, his knees spreading her legs apart. 

“How can I resist you when you talk like that, baby?” 

He lined himself up with her, tip teasing her aching hole. In a sudden motion, he filled her up, walls squeezing him tightly. 

“Simon, y’fucking huge,” she whined, hands over his shoulders as he slowly moved in and out. 

“Save your words, sweetheart, you’ll need them to scream my name later,” he teased, pulling himself out and slamming back into her. She moaned, rubbing her cheek against the edge of his mask. 

He held back, his muscles twitching in anticipation. Every action was desperate, begging to let go and fuck her senseless. It didn’t help that she was blubbering in his ear, pussy squeezing him dry. 

“Feel so fucking good, baby, so fucking tight,” he mumbled into her shoulder. She whimpered, nails scraping the skin on his back. 

“Harder,” she mumbled, wrapping her legs around his waist and taking him deeper. 

“Whatever you want, princess,” he hummed in response. He held her waist, keeping her in place as he pounded into her, hitting her deeper than she’s ever felt before. “Fuck me….” 

“God, just like that Simon,” she whined, fingers digging into his back as his balls slapped her clit. 

“That’s right love, say my name,” he growled, his head fitting in the space of her neck. He bit her through the mask, leaving crooked marks along her jawline. 

“Simon- fuck, I’m gonna cum-!”

“Don’t you dare,” he ordered, pounding into even harder. 

Tears brimmed her eyes, her moans becoming cries of pleasure. “I can’t, gonna-!”

“Not done with you yet,” he groaned, feeling her walls tighten around him. 

“Simon, I’m-!”

Her words turned to pornographic whimpers as she came all over his cock, eyes rolling back and her body trembling. Tears fell freely down her face as she gasped for air, quickly becoming overstimulated. 

Simon’s grip on her waist tightened as her walls threatened to squeeze him dry. His ear didn’t miss a single whimper she made, her breath hot against his neck. His thrusts stuttered, losing their rhythm as he felt his own release grow nearer and nearer. 

“Fuck baby, gonna make me cum,” he growled, pulling his balaclava up to sit on his nose. He tenderly kissed her neck, taking in her scent as he listened to her blabber in his ear. 

“Want you to cum, sir, please,” she whined, another orgasm building at his desperate pace. 

He fucked her deep into the mattress, letting himself go. He grunted, bed creaking underneath him as he finally reached his high. He quickly pulled out, painting her stomach with his seed and almost collapsing on top of her. 

She muttered sweet nothings to him, rubbing out her last orgasm. His lips were fire against her neck, filled with so much need. He was whining in her ear, breathing labored at the feeling of it all. 

“Not cold anymore, are we?” He rasped, nibbling at her jaw. 

“Won’t even need a jacket tomorrow, sir.”

❅ title: christmas morning with the sawamuras

❅ pairing: dad!daichi sawamura x mom!reader

❅ wc: 1.1k

❅ warnings/notes: sfw. suggestive innuendo at the end. domestic fluff.

You hear them before you see them.

“MOMMY! DADDY!” the children yell as they run towards your bed. “WAKE UP!”

There’s the sudden mmffph that’s forced from your husband’s lungs when the first girl lunges herself on top of his once-sleeping form, followed by a loud groan when your other daughter dogpiles both of them. The girls, aged 7 and 5, are accompanied by their 2-year-old brother who isn’t quite big enough to toss himself onto your king-size bed. You hear him whine as he tries to climb his way onto the bed, so you sit up and reach for him, smiling sleepily as you pull him up to join his sisters in terrorizing their father.

“Daddy! Wake up! Mommy, help us!”

“I’m awake,” he grumbles, opening one of his tired eyes to look over at the window. “What time is it? It’s still dark…” he says, reaching for his phone to check.

“IT’S TIME TO OPEN PRESENTS, DADDY!” your middle child informs him before your oldest chimes in. “THERE ARE SO MANY! WE CAN’T EVEN SEE THE FLOOR UNDER THE CHRISTMAS TREE!”

By now, your little boy has crawled his way into your secure arms, both of you watching and giggling at the scene before you. There is a mess of little arms and legs and long, dark brown hair on top of poor Daichi. The love and adoration his daughters have for him is undeniable. He is technically awake, but not enough to satisfy the girls. The 5-year-old presses her little hands against his cheeks and squishes his face as she gets right up in it and yells into his mouth (as if that’s somehow going to make her louder), “DADDY, WAKE UUUUUUUUUPPPPP!!”

But it worked because now Daichi is laughing. “Alright, now you’ve done it!” he announces, his arms breaking free from the weight of his 5-year-old offender to tickle her sides as she tumbles onto the bed next to him in a ball of high-pitched squeals and laughter.

Finally, the children manage to drag their parents out of bed, the girls taking their father by the hands and whisking him away as your baby boy runs after them. You hang back long enough to put your cozy house robe on before walking into the living room where the oldest is ordering her Daddy to sit on the floor to watch them open their presents. After a big stretch and a scratch of his belly, he obliges. Even with messy hair and eyes watery with sleep, your husband is devastatingly handsome. 

“Mommy! You sit there next to Daddy!” 

“She’s almost as bossy as her father,” you muse to your husband as you make your way to the floor next to him.

“I’m not bossy,” he retorts groggily.

You raise your eyebrows at him and press your lips together to stifle the tempting ‘I told you so’ that desperately wants to be said when he starts laying down the law.

“Listen up, kids!” he says with a big yawn. “Here are the rules! All gifts must be handed to me first to see who they’re for! No opening each other’s gifts and no fighting over them either! Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” they all chirp in unison as you kneel behind him to drape your arms over his shoulders and kiss him on the cheek.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper in his ear with a nibble to the lobe.

“Watch it, angel,” he growls with a smirk before turning his focus back to your three crotch goblins.

“Go! Have at it!” he permits with a wave of his hand and immediately three gifts are eagerly shoved in his face. The kids practically dive under the tree like a bunch of wild savages, ripped wrapping paper and ribbons and bows flying every which way.

“Daddy,” your soft-spoken toddler says, holding out a box. “Help open, pwease?”

“Of course, buddy,” Daichi smiles, taking the box as his son sits on his lap. “Oh, babe…”

“Already on it!” you say, halfway to your bedroom to fetch his pocket knife from his nightstand drawer. Seconds later, you’re back, putting the tool in Daichi’s outstretched hand.

“You’re as handy as a pocket on a shirt, you know that?” he grins as you settle beside him on the floor again. “Thanks, babe.” He leans over to give you a quick peck on your smiling lips before turning to his little boy. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you sit in Mommy’s lap so I can help open your box, okay?”

“Nkay…” the boy beams as he climbs his way over to you. He watches intently as his father cuts through the tape before passing the box to him. His little hands awkwardly work the flaps open as his big, brown eyes widen when he sees what’s inside. 

“What is it?” Daichi asks with excitement.

“PIKACHU!” he says gleefully, beaming as he holds the plushie of his favorite Pokemon up for his father to see.

Outside, the sun is breaking the horizon as you and your husband treasure the sight of your three babies as they chatter and shuffle about with the occasional squeal of delight and the steady stream of “Mommy! Daddy! Look!” that accompanies the presentation of every toy and game.

In the midst of the chaos, time seems to slow down when your husband scoots closer to you and pulls you into his lap, trapping you in his strong arms to brush his nose against yours and whisper “I love you”. You slot your lips with his to share a lingering kiss, broken only by your soft proclamation of the love you have for him. 

You’re both smiling against each other’s lips when Daichi says, “Thank you, baby.” 

“Mm…for what?” 

“For them,” he mutters, glancing over at your happy kids before kissing you again, more deeply this time, sneaking in a little tongue.

“EWWW GROSS!!” The two girls protest at the sight of their parents. “They’re sucking each other’s faces again!”

You and Daichi laugh quietly, your romantic moment interrupted. “Such as they are,” your husband jokes, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re welcome, baby,” you chuckle, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Daichi waggles his eyebrows at you with a wicked smirk. “Speaking of which…I’ll give you your present later.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip seductively. “What is it?”

With a small shake of his head, he says, “Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“Is it big?” you snicker.

He nods, his naughty grin growing wider.

“Is it hard?”

“Not yet, but it will be.”

“IS IT A BIKE TIRE??” your 5-year-old guesses loudly, sending you and your husband into a fit of laughter on the floor.

“No, honey,” Daichi wheezes, barely able to get the words out. “But your mom can certainly ride it.” 

“DAICHI!” you scold, playfully slapping his arm as your writhe on the floor with him.

Your daughter looks on with confusion, but eventually shrugs and rejoins her siblings in their pile of presents.

31 days of daichi mlist | main daichi mlist | haikyuu mlist

❅ tagging: @chaoskrakenuwu @yuujispinkhair @luvkun4 @briokayama @mrs-sawamura @heroesfan101 @millenialfanfictionaddiction @lanaxians-2 @darthferbert @hannas16 @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @cookiesandmilksx @whinestonecowgirl @maexc @little-ms-awkward @samkysnks @anejuuuuoy @productivity-blogs @patheticliesblog @strawbmarma @lomons ++ get added

Harsh Directive

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

-

Summary: Holy shit this Drabble took way too long to make.

Word Count: I don’t even know.

-

MASTERLIST | Simon “Ghost” Riley

WARNING [blindfold, fingering, orgasm denial, rough sex, doggy style, creampie, creaming, slight knife play, slight choking kink, long drabble]

-

Operation: Via was a success.

The harsh week of cold and rain had settled in your gear nicely, your firearms in desperate need of a cleaning, and your knives looking pitifully dull. Your skin felt dry, covered in a layer of grime from not having a shower in so long, and your hair was definitely greasy, and flatter than when you had left. You needed a wash, some food, and resting time to get yourself back in order. Sure, the carrier gave you two of those three things, but the comfort of base was calling your name and singeing itself well into your brain; your own bed, your own food, your own— well, semi your own, shower— were the only things that would satisfy you, and you were willing to wait the next 3 hours of flight to reach your gratification.

You silently sat with your arms crossed and legs spread, leaning back into the aisle chair while purposefully pressing your back into the buckle to keep yourself in discomfort. You were refraining yourself from dozing off, maintaining a kink-free neck and back from the horrid sleeping posture you would surely put yourself in; you refuse to go through that torture ever again — training with a sore spine was a bigger pain than what you had anticipated, and the aftercare was difficult to manage when it’s just you massaging the bolts out of your neck and back. You grimaced at the memory of barely being able to climb out of bed and slide your uniform on, slowly gazing up to the roof while holding in a chuckle from the next flashback of almost falling while shoving your pants on.

Your eyes fixated on the lights above that lit the fuselage in a dim glow, aircraft nets swinging gently with the plane and knocking on the walls with soft clatters. It was quiet, unusually quiet, until you heard a loud snore croak in front of you and being followed up with another. Quirking a brow, you turned your attention to your front and on Gaz and Soap, who were completely knocked out in the seating across from yours. Gaz’s arms slumped crossed, and had his head tilted down to his twined legs, while Soap was widely spread and fully tilted back towards the ceiling.

Had it been any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of their drooling faces and horrible postures, but the overwhelming drowsiness took over your complete being and left you oddly calm and collected. Just the sight of them made you envious of their sleep, but you would rather be safe than sorry in the long run during one of Price’s excruciating trainings. You blinked slowly away from the sight and to the cockpit doors, fighting the urge to nod off and instead pinching yourself with your vest’s clasps.

“Arrival will be in two hours. Weather is gloomy with possible heavy rain, so prepare for a stroll, lads. Again, arrival will be in two hours. Out.”

Price’s voice disturbed you aware, leaving you a bit more alive and conscious from the startling overcom. The static undertone helped waken your eyes as you heard it go in and out, tired tears pearling into your lashes from the sudden energy surge to stay aware, and soon being wiped away by your scarf. You felt lightly gleeful that home was so close, only needing to remain awake for— counting the time it would take to walk, as well— 2 and a half hours. You could do that.

A small smile formed on your lips, a hand bringing your scarf up to cover it and allow the subtly present scent of your detergent to sink in through your nose. Home. You were going to be home. You wouldn’t have to smell like dried blood and muddy earth anymore, or have to wear it on display. Until your next mission, of course. Either way, you were just glad you’d be going to base soon, and get the well deserved rest you needed.

A rough shot of cognizance rattled through your spine, your hands stiffening and the smile you had deflating as your hairs stood at attention. Your left side felt completely vulnerable all of a sudden, and you felt deeply discomforted by the abrupt exposure, now shifting in your seat to gain some comfort back. Your whole side burned. You felt every layer of protection cease to exist under the blazing stir that set on what felt like your very skin. You were being watched, and definitely not with sweet eyes.

You didn’t need to guess where it was coming from, or who the unforgiving glower belonged to — Soap and Gaz were out, and Price was in the bridge, so that left one out of the four personnel that could be watching you like an angry hawk. And to think you would have a happy time home.

You knew you wouldn’t get away with the stunt you pulled, despite hoping he would brush it off eventually. How could he? He never neglects your wrongs. He never lets your blunders slip by. He never forgets.

You knew it all too well.

Let’s just hope you make it out alright this time.

-

You were in deep shit the moment you set foot into base. The way your name instantly shot through the room when Ghost snapped for you to come see him tensed the whole squad, already knowing what the issue pertained to. You didn’t need to look back to acknowledge they were all sending weary eyes your way.

“I’ll get your whiskey ready, Hops.”

“Thanks, Soap. I’m gonna need it.”

Taking your time to get to the door, you threw your gear into a room on the way and let your hair down from its bun. The tingling sensation of your relaxed scalp gave you a short peace of mind as you massaged the sore muscles and succumbed to a false happy place. You thought of all the nice things you’d partake in now that you were home — a nice shower, some cooked food, and your own bed to nap in now that there were no missions to fling yourself into. How you would all sit around the living room and converse about stories of the past, like how they got their scars, type of thing, as you drank the better-than-nothing whiskey for where you were. Ghost barked gratingly for the second time, his voice sharper, louder — filled with impatience, and knocked you straight out of your comforting haven. You felt your nerves pile onto the tip of your tongue, biting your lower lip to sooth the hard beating of your organs, and making your way to your superior.

You passed through the living quarters and down the long hall towards the debriefing room, quietly wishing you could turn around and pretend like you didn’t hear as you watched the comforting bedroom lights glow teasingly into the corridor. You had blinked, just once, and magically appeared in front of the open door that led straight to your doom. You were an anxious mess, fumbling with your gloves as you pulled them off and set them on the counter just beside the door. Taking a deep breath, you began to reason with yourself, mumbling incoherent encouragements to get you to go into the room and power your way through whatever he would yell at you for. Come on, White, you got this. At least you aren’t at Death’s door.. I hope.

The door slammed shut behind you when you had eventually entered, your heart stammering from the harsh snap of wood-on-wood. It felt like you had left reality and entered the dark dungeons of Hell from how drastic the atmosphere shifted. Not even the light felt the same as it blinked inside from the covered windows, nor the speckles of dust that would cascade down to the floor. You focused on your breathing despite your lungs want to collapse from the underlying fear that now set the scene. They practically did when you felt the looming presence of a ghost standing just a few feet away from your back, and deathly silent rage surrounding you like a cloud of toxin.

You need to relax.

You grazed your eyes over to the center table, signature black gear already laid across it with dissected guns and removed armor plates. They looked to have just been cleaned and reapplied with oil, but the finish looked rather rushed and almost careless from how he set every part across the counter. The sight made a cold shudder slither up your spine; Ghost always took care of his artillery, never using rushed hands and little thought when cleaning and placing pieces. You had gotten to him. Bad.

You tore your eyes away from the table and burned them straight ahead, the sound of heavy boots slowly prowling close catching your attention and flooding your veins with mixed apprehension. You recognize that gait, know those boots. Oh fuck..

There was a clipping sound paired with rustling fabric before you saw his vest get tossed by the table with a loud clatter. You flinched at the raucous noise, standing even firmer at attention despite the soft look you tried to portray and mitigate your angered superior.

“Would you like me to put your stuff away with mine?” You asked with a built sweetness. What good would this do? Dig your grave a little deeper? Might as well and try to knock two birds with one stone; ease the tension, ease the Lieutenant.

“You defied a direct order.” He uttered, the underlying reverb in his throat startling your overly aware nerves as his boots heaved on the floor with every step behind you. He had yelled at you, demanding that you fall back on him and not pursue the objective. “White Rabbit, if you take another bloody step into that building, I will personally suspend your ass for a full week. Do not engage.”

You grimaced at the failed attempt to improve the situation, your shoulders tightening and your hands becoming clammy. When you saw the back of his cotton warmer, his steps ceasing after appearing meters in front of you, you audibly sighed, “If we didn’t get those vials then, we would’ve never been able to ransack like that again.”

“I don’t give a bloody fuck,” His tone reached deep into his chest, his head snapping just barely to the side. It was a silent command to stand and shut the fuck up.

You snapped your mouth closed, watching as the Lieutenant peered down to a hand and flexed it out to rid the tension in his burly toned arm; he looked as if he would be flexing out claws, his large hands twitching from the urge to grab you and slam you against the wall to teach you a lesson. He was shaking, even just slightly, and was positively fuming for your disregard of his command and jumping straight into a no-coms zone. He had no clue if you’d come back to him either just as you were, or in a fucking casket. “If I see you dead, (Y/n), I swear to whatever bloody fuckin’ god is up there that I’ll be proper fuckin’ shit-pissed. Stay alive. Don’t you dare come back to me strung up in medals.”

He turned fully towards you, his broad frame blocking the incoming light from the window behind him. You looked two sizes smaller than Ghost — his body could fully cover you from view — the size difference enforcing intimidation without even mentioning his burning anger.

"I gave you an order, White." He stalked towards you, every agonizing step forcing you back on instinct, "You don't just ignore your superior's orders— especially not in this line of business."

You bumped into something solid and stopped, your eye contact with the black-suited soldier imposing on your soul and bleeding out with your incoming submission, "I'm sorry, Ghost, I really am. But if we didn't get those vials—"

His fist slammed right next to your head and into whatever you backed up against, your words hitching in your throat as a cracking noise came from the object behind you.

"This isn't about those fuckin' vials, Rabbit."

You felt your heart practically rip out of your chest with every beat, your eyes wide and your hands pressed flush against the now cracked wall with your back. Your mind screamed at you to run away, acting on your prey instincts from the threatening presence in the room. Yet, you remained silent, unmoving as the Lieutenant’s eyes bore into yours, daring you to take a step away like he knew what you were thinking.

“Do you remember what I asked of you,” Ghost pierced through your ears with an alarmingly rich sonorous hum, “when I had you flush against my door, right on your pretty little knees?”

You felt a boiling heat rush throughout your body, your eyes snapping open even wider in full awareness. The scent of cigarettes and husky cologne was more potent now that he was so close to your figure, a mixture of dirt and old blood evident in his musk.

It practically clouded your senses, a dazed look setting in your eye as the oh-so familiar scent plunged deep into your lungs, yet you still conjured up whatever shitty pride you had left against your dire situation, “Sir, please.. This isn’t the time.”

He grimaced down at your audacity, his accent flaring with obvious fire, “Fuckin’— Do you remember what I asked of you?”

You couldn’t hold eye contact any longer, your embarrassment overpowering your confidence and causing your head to turn away. Yes, you remembered. You remembered the whole ordeal.

The way he shakily purred your name as you bobbed your head up and down his length with soft teary eyes and a constantly bulging throat. How he forced a hand through your hair as he leaned all his built weight into the other, curling his body above you and into his skillfully tattooed arm as he stroked your locks carefully. This was different. This was sensual. He wasn’t rough, and his touches were all filled with the utmost delicate attention like he was handling one of his most precious weapons.

You let out a short, uneasy scoff, trying to divert the perverted memory, “What does that have to do with any of this?”

He flashed you a hard glare, your hope of him going along with your words disappearing instantaneously. When he knew you were firmly silenced, his voice cut through the quiet like a knife through butter, “I’m going to ask you one last time. Do you or do you not remember what I asked of you?”

“.. Of course I do,” You meekly gave in, your eyes scathing back up his body and to his gaze, “That was the last time we were alone together before Op: V.”

He gently combed his fingers through your hair as you continued to suck and lick, focusing on his veined v-line that kept going back and forth with every thrust of your head. He let out a rough groan as your tongue swept along the underside of his sex, his body visibly shuddering as he mumbled, “God damn it, love..” and gripping his supporting hand into a tight fist. He began to snarl incoherent praises, saying how good you were for him, and how he was so lucky to have you assigned under him as his rookie.

"Bun," He inquired, jaw clenching as his eyes gazed down at you with glints of abnormal longing, "Come back to me in one piece.. Stay alive, and play safe— bloody hell, please."

“Then why did you risk it?”

You curled your hands up behind you, looking at anything but him in an effort to ignore the question. You had no option, however, when Ghost called your name with a chilling rasp, your arms becoming littered with goosebumps as your hair stood on edge.

"It's.. It's just.."

You could feel his eyes spark with curiosity at your stutter, finding your nervous form a rare sight, and savoring it with every look over. Despite this, he remained firm with heavy superiority behind every word, "’s just what, White?"

".. I didn't want to get in trouble." You whispered, afraid the whole world would hear your confession.

The room went dead quiet, so much so you swore you could feel the air thicken and begin to choke you through each breath you took. Ghost had froze. He froze with a blank stare straight into your eyes, like he was processing word for word what you said. I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up, your mind repeated, never once breaking from his swirling gaze. You had no clue what he was thinking, what the subtle glints in his eyes meant as they showered around your body in tantalizingly slow look overs. You wanted him to say something, anything to keep you from basking in the silence and spiraling yourself into an overthinking mess.

You abruptly flinched as he pulled his head away from yours, his voice vibrating in a low pitch and deepening his accent, "What did you say?"

"I didn't want to get in trouble.." You repeated, gulping down a chunky lump in your throat.

He took another moment of pure silence before slowly peeling himself off you. You gawked after him as he went to trudge across the room towards his strewn about gear, looking through it with haste as you remained stuck to the wall. You stood in utter confusion, wondering what in the world was going to happen, until he snapped his fingers and pointed down by his side without giving you a single glance; "Here." You, of course, followed his instruction, and walked up quietly behind him to his side all the while picking at your fingers in nervous habit. You didn’t like not knowing what would happen next, and it seemed like everything he did was to play on your discomfort, taking his sweet yet rushed time to gather whatever he was seeking.

"Trying to get yourself out of trouble is what gets you in trouble. Fuckin' shit, White— you should know this by now."

You felt like a private all over again, being scolded by the second lieutenant during training for doing something slimly out of line, "I'm sorry, Ghost.."

He snapped his head towards you, giving you a scowl through his eyes like that was the last thing you should've said, "Sayin’ sorry won't fix anything when you're fuckin' dead."

You clamp your mouth shut as Ghost turned back to the table, pulling out one of his black cloths from a vest pocket. You were beyond anxious from each of his rushed actions, watching him flick the cloth out of its folds and holding it between his hands.

He turned to face you, watching you examine the black fabric in his hands with wide doe eyes, “Turn around.”

Without wanting to make matters worse, you comply and face your back towards him with a shaky turn. You hear his boots thud against the floor as he comes straight up to your behind, his close presence causing your back to feel oddly sensitive despite the zero contact. It worsened as you felt his firm chest graze your shoulder blades when he leaned forward, his breath seeping into your ear through his balaclava.

“Close your eyes.”

You felt a shiver creep nerve-by-nerve through your system, and how your whole spine became pleasurably tender from marinating in his close-up musk. Your eyes closed with the single flutter of your lids, your adrenaline accelerating from your lack of sight and creating a blissfully heavy sensation in your core.

You gently twitched when you felt what you assumed to be his arms graze past your shoulders, and place the black cloth over your eyes before tying it off securely behind your head. You didn’t dare remove it, and instead embraced the enhanced senses you were given, feeling every vein that split through and around his exposed forearms, and hear every low breath from behind his skull coverings.

“‘Only you were this well behaved on the mission. It’s really a shame, White.. qui-te the shame.”

You let your body tremble as his hands trailed painfully slow down your neck and to the dip in your back, his gloved fingertips grazing your quivering figure with rare delicacy. You relished in the rare attention, involuntarily leaning into his warmth with a soft, shaky sigh passing through your lips from the contact. You missed him. You missed all of him. His body was not something you could see yourself without, and that whole mission was absolute torture; running around to get the job done with little to no time with your ghost. The first night without him went fine, but after the second?

You were both aching for touch. It was becoming impossible to stay curled in your tents, and the overwhelming need for one another’s bodies burned your very cores with hot desire. One thing led to another and you both had your earbuds in, dialed on a private line, and letting yourselves confess your needy desires to the dark heavens above.

“Raise your arms above your head.”

You did as you were told, shakily lifting your arms straight up to the ceiling. His hands removed themselves from your sides and went for your wrists, bringing your arms behind your head and wrapping them around his neck. It stretched your body out nicely, his height forcing you on the balls of your feet and to the tips of your toes just to adjust with the position. Your fingers felt on something soft, something warm gliding under your tips as you stroked down the fabric material. The soft surface subtly rose with bumps as your nails lightly scratched what you remembered as his nape, feeling his locks peak out from under the balaclava, and gently feeling for it. A thick vein trailed up the side of his throat and caressed your exposed wrist, your pulse radiating with his at the sensation of his firm flesh. You were anxious, yet you could allow the Lieutenant to do as he pleased when he brought his palms down to your stomach.

You began dreading the blindfold, wanting to see everything he was doing to you, “Ghost.. Why do I have to wear this cloth?”

His tone reverberated along his throat in a growlish pitch, “So you can understand exactly what I saw when you went into that bloody building.”

“But I don’t see—”

His fingers dug into your v-line and forced a whimper from your chest, his voice burning low, violent, “That’s the fuckin’ point. I didn’t see anything, not a proper fuckin’ thing when you went into that warehouse.”

He leaned in close to your ear, his breath nipping against your shell with every hot exhale, “You’re going to feel exactly what I felt. You’re going to see exactly what I saw. Only you put yourself in this position, and you’re going to sit your ass through it just as I did.”

“Do I make myself clear, Sergeant?”

“Yes, Ghost—”

His grip tightened painfully through your warmers, a hiss falling with your sudden intake of air and shutting you up.

“It’s either yes Lieutenant, or yes sir.. You’ve forgotten your place, White, so you’re goin' to live in it until I see fit. So again, do I make myself fuckin’ clear, Sergeant?”

Had it not been for his leather gloves and your cotton warmer, you knew his nails would've punctured through your skin with how tight his grip on your body was. Did you wish that was the case? Abso-fucking-lutely.

You let his rough handling of you coax an answer from your lips as you finally gave in, your soft voice wavering in defeat, "Yes, Lieutenant.."

"Atta' girl.. Such a good obedient thing when you want ta’ be, ain't that right?"

Oh, if your insides weren't clenching before, they were definitely clenching now. It sounded so dirty, like he stripped you clean of any human title and dubbed you almost like a pet. The blindfold was tied snug against your eyes, unrelenting with how tight your heat was clinging to your insides, or how it made being called a good obedient thing by the predator behind you turn your mind into liquid. You could feel how his body encased your own, and how his skin was burning hot, muscles completely flexed and solid in restraint to keep himself together.

You sucked in a deep breath when you felt his big hands trail down to the buckle of your belt and slowly unclip it, "L—Lieutenant..?"

With a harsh tug, the belt came straight out of your pants and right to the floor, "'Won't be needin' this."

Picking up the bottom of your cotton shirt, he raised it up and over your chest, letting the hem rest messily along your collarbone as he pulled his hands fully off your body. You were stood right against his hard frame, your pants now unbuttoned and zipped down, and your pretty abdomen and covered tits on full display.

His gloved hands grazed down your neck and over your perking breasts, giving them little attention as he continued to trail his cold gloves along your warming skin. You wish he’d rip open your bra and pinch your nipples with unrelenting roughness, but when his leather palms glazed over your v-line, right over your panty line, you wiped that thought clean out of your head with a gentle sigh.

As if sensing your shifting emotions, he clicked his tongue and set his hands just on the hem of your cargo pants with a strict sneer, "Sergeant, keep yourself together."

You let out a shaky response, his firm command urging out a submission of acknowledgment, "Yes, sir."

“That’s my girl. My good, pretty little girl.. I think we should get started with your punishment."

His fingers made their way through your pants and straight to your clothed cunt, his gloves snagging gently against the silky fabric of your panties. His sudden assault caused a flinch to ripple through your body, your mind asking to any god above if this was truly what he said it would be right before he began his torture. You let out a soft squeak when you felt pressure begin to push against your covered slit, drawing small circles on the tip of your clit with his middle finger as it nestled right between your puffy cameltoe.

"Feels fuckin' good, doesn't it?" He murmured, keeping his other hand pinning your ass against his hips.

"Feelin' so right and perfect on my fingers.. Just how I felt when you followed and obeyed under my command like nothing could go wrong."

Noticing your pussy begin to grind against his fingers, he scoffed, settling his hardening arousal right against your ass, "Fuckin' hell..”

He let you continue to move your hips, his mask shifting right against the side of your cheek all the while he savored how your plump rear would shift and press against his thickening sex. He missed this. He missed you. How every morning you'd greet him with such warm eyes, and how every night you'd welcome him into your gushy insides with the most submissive pleas and cries. When you would whine and beg to be stuffed full of nothing but his thick cock, or when you’d put on something that begged for his instincts to grab you and taint your flesh and blood with nothing but him. It practically made him feral at just the remembrance.. But, as much as he wanted to indulge himself, Ghost knew he couldn't let you off the hook, not after firing him up and really showing how scary a tosser could be when it came to his woman.

"'s just like this, yeah? Seeing nothin', absolutely fuck all, and left with the pleasure of knowin' you're alright— knowin' you're in ear's length of coms."

With the increase of pressure on your hardened pearl, and the rougher grind of his large finger circling the pulsing nub, he began to push the little restraint you had on your voice, and forcing quiet groans and mewls past your trembling lips.

"'Felt so good— so fuckin' perfect, like nothin' could wrong me as long as you listened and stayed in contact."

All your mind could focus on was the overwhelming growth of slick and lust forming straight into your guts, and the death pulsing grip the Lieutenant had on your bruising skin. Your bucking hips became desperate, your need to feel your knot grow and snap intruding and releasing your lustful pheromones in the air like an animal searching for a mate— or better yet, to mate— and clinging to every little thing.

"And every single time you answered my call.. It was like music to my ears, Bun. 'Couldn't see you, yet could feel your hot breath right in my ear like you were fuckin' there, right stood next to me, just as it should've been."

You let out a strained gasp when you felt his finger push your panties away from your drooling cunt and forcing itself inside, the palm of his hand rubbing circles over your clit in his finger's stead. The grip you had on his balaclava disappeared, only for your fingers to run straight under the fabric and shakily grab at his hair to somewhat ground your slushing brain. His finger felt like it was stretching you out already, the leather glove aiding in the attack as his digit went in and out, curled and uncurled. You were getting drunk on just his hand, your back arching off Ghost's body as shocks of wrecking pleasure pulsed through your very bones.

A purr-like growl began to rumble inside his throat, his eyes never once leaving the sight of his hand stuffed down your trousers and finger fucking your weeping pussy, “It felt just like how you’re feeling now— so full and right. So euphoric to know you were right under the palm of my hand, and that nothing would come to stop us from getting home.”

You felt your tongue push past your lips when he injected another finger into your clenching hole, shoving right against your flexing cunt, “F—Fuck!”

His hand suddenly stopped moving, earning a needy whine from your pathetically crumbling body, “Watch your fuckin’ mouth, Sergeant. If I hear another swear out of you, I’ll leave you as the dumb mess you are right on that couch.”

You felt your eyes widen behind the black cloth, needy pleas and cries straining for his continuous touch, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll behave, I promise!”

With a cocky smirk, he gradually began to set his pace back into your sex, sloppy ‘thank you’s and ‘more’s croaking from your drying throat, “Good girl.”

Your hips began to spasm, the tight knot you’ve been craving for forming at a rapid pace as his fingers hit knuckles-deep into your cunt. Your eyes began to roll up and become half-lidded, drool seeping down the corner of your lip when you let out a short cry from your pussy suddenly quivering and gripping around Ghost’s fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, Bun— are you gonna cum already?” He mused, rubbing his palm harder against your hot clit.

You couldn’t even focus on what he was taunting over, being too caught up in the boiling heat that hit over and over against your insides. You were about to snap, your muscles contracting and retracting rapidly as your body convulsed. The hold you had on his hair was hard, your nails digging into his scalp with a vice grip, and the foggy look you gave to the blindfold screaming for release.

Ghost rubbed the hard edge of his mask right against your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your bruised hips in a forged comfort, “'Felt the same way when I heard you call in after my every order. How it felt so fuckin' warmin' to have you submit whenever I needed to hear your confirmation— without your daft tongue."

A harsh spike of snapping thread spread throughout your womb, flooding your lower half in fuzz and intense heat as your cervix quivered with every involuntary clench. You felt panic rise into your lungs, finding it harder and harder to keep your panting under control as you realized your ending point was being fucked out of you quicker than normal.

You slurred over every word, spreading your thighs out wider as your jaw began to tighten, "Cumming— Lieutenant, I'm gonna— no, I'm gonna—!”

His voice burled deep and rough, the accent you oh-so adored sounding like Satan’s damned temptation, “But then, oh then, did that comfort crumble right through my fingers.”

Just when you felt your eyes roll back into your head, your body fully prepared for your stuttering womb to snap, his touch disappeared in an instant, and the overflowing high that was soon to tip over washing away gruesomely fast. You were left empty, hollowed even, with how quick the change was as your body adjusted to being denied its pleasure. You were left in shock. What the hell just happened?

You could hear the devilish taunt of his voice as you glared into darkness with helpless teardrops forming in your eyes, “You really thought I’d let you burst, White? Bloody fuck, you’ve really been spoiled rotten.”

You sniffed as drops of your pearling tears fell from your eyes, “Th—That’s not fair..”

He couldn’t help the amused scoff that found its way through the mask, his hands grasping your luscious waist in a rough clutch, “'Didn’t tell you to talk.”

“I did what I had to do!”

He snapped, “Watch it, Sergeant.”

The commanding bark quieted your pleads, your sniffs and silent whimpers remaining as your only hope to get what you needed. You pressed your thighs back against his legs, trying to press more of your body into him as an offering, even going as far as to grind your ass against his dense arousal— you were acting like a bitch in heat, and it was getting to the point where even Ghost couldn’t see straight anymore from how slutty you were acting for his dick.

In one rapid moment, you could feel the leather covered fingertips hook around the front of your bra just milliseconds before it came ripping right off your torso. You gasped from his brute strength forcing your bra to come apart in his hands, the weight of your tits forcing out a small whimper of need before you felt the cool fabric of gloves cup the underside of your mounds in a firm hold.

"'Missed these slutty tits and how they fit into my hands just right. 'nd the way your nipples—" He finally brought his attention to your teats, giving them a painful pinch and pull, "— were always so excited to see me.."

You felt the hard skull covering press into the space between your neck and shoulder, listening to him take a deep inhale of your warm scent, "Damn proper perfection, and it's all for me to fuck and break."

You press further into his broad frame, your back flush against his snug fitted warmer. You couldn't get enough of him; you needed more with every passing second, and now with him practically milking your breasts with how he kept pulling and twisting your nipples, you were hopelessly in need of Ghost.

Your heart jarring to keep up with a healthy pace in spite of your embarrassment, you sputtered, "Please punish me more.."

A low chuckle vibrated through his chest, pulling his head back from your shoulder as one of his hands left your tit and grazed it up between your breasts to gently touch your neck, "Punishment isn't meant to be pleasurable, Sergeant."

You tilted your head to the side, allowing his fingers to brush against your pulse and lay comfortably around your throat, “I can’t help it when it’s you punishing me..”

He impulsively allowed his hand to wrap around your supple neck, that small ounce of control he had left finally splitting as his voice dropped down heavy octaves, "You're asking for it now, Bun.."

Swiftly, he released your throat and tore the blindfold right off your head, not giving your eyes a moment to adjust before grabbing onto the back of your bruising nape and pushing you towards the center of the room. You were tripping over your own feet to keep up with his large strides, your legs getting caught up with his in an intertwined mess. Your heart was beating in your ears and your mind was running wild with the varying scenarios that could play out right in this room like the many times before. You were practically dripping at the thought of being manhandled and fucked so stupid that you wouldn't be able to walk for the next few days— hopefully the next few weeks. You might even get your wish with how hasty he was being to get you into place just for him to abuse and litter with his crazed ardor. You brought your hands down to keep yourself steady when he finally got you into a comfortable spot; you were faced right in front of the coffee table, your eyes once again staring at his carelessly thrown about equipment.

Taking no more time to waste, he brutally shoved all his equipment off the table, and slammed your front onto the now clear countertop, breasts down, ass up. You gasped from suddenly being thrown around like a doll, hitting straight onto the wood with a slight bounce, and your pliable flesh rippling from the impact. You could feel the harsh coolness of the wood rub into your nipples, your breasts painfully aroused as your innocent nubs continued to tighten and perk.

In one jarring movement, Ghost had your pants down past your ankles, and your panties left disheveled on your blemished hips with heavy impatience. For the second time, he froze — even if it was only for a split second, you felt it. His hand flinched with a sudden stop against your naked thigh when he began to retract, and the hard breathing that echoed around the soldier had grown quiet for just that moment.

It was proper fucking magic. The way the straps of your underwear perfectly dipped into your glistening flesh, and how your puffy cameltoe was deliciously accentuated by the soft fabric of your cotton panties. It only made his mind spiral helplessly into a feral slop of what it once was, the remembrance of needing to punish you completely forgotten and thrown to the back of his mind. The hunger to ruin your full being was fucking with his brain to where even he was losing his cool.

Like countless times before, he retracted his knife from his chest holster and slammed the 11 inch MTECH right into the oak table, blistering up the surrounding wood layers. He engraved it right in front of your eyes, the brutal sound of the blade ripping straight into the countertop ringing in your ears as you watched his hand linger for just a moment to make sure you acknowledged it, before he let go of the tang with an agonizingly slow retraction — it was a warning.

An unclasping sound startled you out of your stare-off with his weapon, the noise of metal clinking together as his belt buckle laid lax against his thighs coaxing a noise out of you. You swore you were about to lose it when you heard him unbutton his pants, and the unzipping of zipper teeth graze painfully low behind your ass. He was drawing this out for as long as he could, and you knew it, too. From the amount of times he’s edged you, forced you to beg for what you wanted; to put it into perspective, you didn’t know how far gone you could go until you were once on the brink of passing out from the painful edging and needful crying, that’s how well you knew his tendencies.

The knife laid clattered with your torn lingerie, droplets of thick glossy honey dripping onto the long forgotten pile. Slapping of skin and squelching mush underlined heavy growls and sob-filled moans, the room filled with the damp smell of sex and pornish sounds of pleasure.

Through your broken cries, Ghost couldn’t help the snarl that rose from his throat when he felt your weeping cunt brutally hug onto his dick with need. He had lost himself the moment he sunk balls deep into your hole, letting his desire take full responsibility of fucking you till you were completely stuffed with all he could give. He became an animal, his only need being to shove you full with his cock in the most feral way possible. He needed to.

With a final harsh snap of his hips, the grip he had on your waist indented into your skin, and the hold that marked carnally around your neck dug even deeper into your pulse. He sloppily stilled with a small -plap- between your thighs, keeping flush against your raw sex as he took a moment to gather himself. Sweat lined your skins with a shear layer, heavily falling chests fueling the desperate pants for air that puffed against your exertions. You were on the brink of cumming, your pussy convulsing around his cock as you mewled quietly for him to let you release — this was the third time this round he stopped just before you could snap, and the many tears that drooled down your cheeks were evidence of such sin. You couldn’t even beg for it, you poor thing, that’s how far gone you were.

He shut you up with a violent slap on your plump thigh, earning a muffled cry as he made sure his pelvis pressed right into your clit insync.

“Ah ah ah, love— no whining for your fuckings, remember? You’ll take what I give you, and appreciate it like the proper sex whore you are.”

He drew out your orgasm for the next thirty minutes no matter how desperate you cried, or how fucked out you looked. He couldn’t bring himself to let you out of his room without making sure the only thing your body would remember was him and how he was the only one that could fuck you this good. No one could violently edge, or screw you dumb the way his dick could, and your body better fucking remember that.

You felt something hot glide right through your mounds, the moistened cotton of your panties dragging against your clit in slow, shuddering thrusts.

"Fuuckk.. Fuckin' Christ.." Ghost hissed through bared teeth, grinding himself firmly between your wettened thighs, "'Don't know how much longer I can take this.."

You could cry with how badly you needed him inside of you. It was becoming stressfully hard to keep back your curses and whines, and he was picking up on every little frustrated jolt your body made as he made it worse and worse. And it did worsen when you let out a choppy sob as you felt the warmth of his bulge pull away from your soiled underwear, your clit twitching in red searing need for his attention. It all washed away before you could start begging, when you felt a boiling hot heat prod against the very same bud, squealing out when you felt a warm substance smear across your panties up and down over the entrance to your insides.

His fingers hooked under your thin covering and pulled it to the side of your swollen lips, the cold air hitting your exposed inner flesh and causing it to spasm closed. You hiccuped with every passing breath, imagining what was waiting just mere inches away from your weeping hole; is it his fat cock, pulsing blue veins strapping up the underside of his painfully hard arousal? Or was it another teasing set of fingers to ready your cunt for his dick to bottom out inside you? He answered your question to the fullest when he pushed the bulb of his thick cock right between your folds, earning a shocked moan from your quivering lips.

Utterly pleased, he tilted his head back as he savored the way the tip of his aching dick began to slide back and forth against your sex, feeling every wettened, pulsing piece of your cunt. He ran a hand to the dip of your back as he carelessly hung the other at his side, pumping his happy trail with every slow, teasing roll of his hips against your ass.

A guttural sigh purred deep in his chest, one final 'Fuuck..' rumbling through his stitched balaclava before he stilled his hips, regaining some of his lost composure with every raspy breath.

"Time for the— hah..— main event, don't you think, Bun?"

You could only nod as an answer, your heart trying to steady itself while causing a lump to get caught in your throat. Your body was scorching, all too eager to get what you "deserved" and completely milk it for all you could. You were desperate for any friction, and it started showing as you settled your ass back on his twitching desire, small presses and shifting hips never once escaping his sharp eye.

He tutted his tongue in disapproval as he gave your ass a firm smack, letting his dense fingers sink into your plump rear and melt into your flesh, “Patience, little rabbit. All you have to do is say please, and I might consider giving you what you want."

You practically leapt at his offer, twisting your head back to face him with blown out eyes, "Please fuck me, Lieutenant! I can't take this anymore— it's been way too long since we've touched, and I need it! Please, please, please!"

Ghost couldn't help the chuckle that ran up his throat, pushing his glistening cockhead on your burning clit as he started to taunt your pathetic begging, "Who knew the stubborn White Rabbit could be taken down a few notches from just a bloody cock.. What would the team think?"

He slowly glides his fingertips up your spine, going straight from your Venus Dips to your delicate nape with taunting emotive trails of gentle leather kisses, “Not like that matters.. ‘Sides, if they even thought about my dangerous little bun all fucked out and sobbing.. Well, I can guarantee they’d rethink what Hell looked like.”

He leans down over your trembling figure, sliding a hand around to the front of your neck and keeping it in a snug grip, “I don’t give a fuck what the regulations say. You’re mine— all mine to adore..”

Your eyes began to blur with every word, ‘mine’ ringing through your ears like an angel’s love song. It sounded so comforting, so intoxicatingly beautiful that it would’ve brought you down on your knees to listen and hang over every lyric. It would’ve— should’ve been the case, except for the fact that in reality, it wasn’t a heavenly call, but was the Devil in disguise dangling your precious desires right in front of your face with every deep, luscious promise. Fucking Christ.. Who knew the Devil looked so good in black?

“Say it.. Say you’re mine, and I’ll give you my fucking cock to cry over just how you want.”

“I..”

You gathered your mush of a brain to at least spark some type of sense in you. You sputtered silent nonsense as you tried to please him, tried to give him an answer like the good girl you were. It felt impossible, but you managed with what little control you had over your dumbed-out mind, and responded with such a weak waver of song.

“I’m yours, Lieutenant..”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

In one violent push, his cock plunged to the root in your mush, a sickening smack of wet skin signifying your glistening pussy lips now trembling around his dense girth. Had it not been for his tight grip around your pulsing neck, you would’ve screamed— screamed in absolute pleasure of finally feeling him to the fullest context. Your attention remained glued to the knife, the shiny serrated edge glinting at you in mockery of your pathetic cry. But did you care? Absolutely not. Simon Ghost Riley was stuffing your cunt full of his dick for the millionth time this month, and you would never feel even the slightest bit of shame in taking him. You were infatuated. You were drunk on him. You were in love with him.

Just like how he was in love with you, his pretty little Sergeant.

Flexing his muscled back with a satisfied sigh, he ran his strong hands down your waist and held it in a deathly clutch, “You’re not allowed to cum unless I tell you to. Is that understood?”

You felt your lungs tighten as a breathy sigh passed through your lips, “Yes, sir..”

“Good fuck bunny. Such a lovely piece of fuck meat, just for me.”

Wrapping your hair around a knuckles-white grip, he slammed away at your gushing insides in pure animalistic rage, delicious feral fapping and squelching noises dragging him on to fuck you as he set off with no soft pace. You gasped out only to whine and moan against every hard slap of your hips, the weight of his dick pinning right up into your cervix tipping you over already— his cock was long enough to reach far inside your cunt and push delectably into that one weak spot that sent you reeling; thick enough to leave you molded, gapping the shape of his cock as a momento of who fucks— who owns your very being, inside and out. God, you were in pure bliss. Feeling this man every night in his bed has left this hole in your chest, something you couldn’t quite describe without thinking about him doing you in and touching every inch of your body. He’s left his mark on you, forever attached to a ghost that guarded from the shadows, yet a man that bedded you in nothing but his deep primal musk. The sensations of his carnal sin would never excrete; your body, mind, and soul would remember the way he tastes, feels, and fucks for the rest of your life. But was that really a problem?

He leaned his broad frame over your glittering body, making sure each thrust was passionate, invigorating as he intimately kissed your guts with wild heat. You felt his abdomen graze your back with every pull of your hips towards his exposed pelvis, the feeling of hot cotton and tightened muscles looming above your figure as he pressed you further into the table. You were small compared to his burly size, a single hand able to make home around your neck in a clasp that could still touch at the back of your throat. His thighs that kept yours spread were thick, thrusting against them in a firm stance to ensure they stayed apart and around his dense muscles. His torso.. don’t even get started on his torso. The tight fit of his black shirt perfectly accentuated every crisp line of his abdominal muscles, his strong ribs and sharply cut v-line pressing neatly into the fabric around every tensed ab. You were a lucky girl to experience such a deadly built predator like himself rubbing and fucking into your poor subordinate body. He was the size of an ox compared to you, a small bunny.

He growled lowly in your ear as he tugged your head back into his shoulder, “Don’t you ever disobey me again.. Don’t you ever— fuck— go under my authority again.”

Pulling you back on his dick, he slammed into you after every rough word, “Is.. -plap- that.. -plap- under.. -plap- stood?”

Your nails dug straight into the wood, pressing your reddening cheek into his stitched mask in an attempt to ground yourself, “Gnngh! Yes, sir!”

Without another word, he let go of your hair and allowed your head to rest on the cold wood, swiftly taking hold of your arms and pulling them back towards him in a single clasp. He released your bruised waist from his vice clutch, only to grab onto your shoulder and pull you back on his cock as he rashly snarled, “Take it.. Take this fucking cock.”

The tip of his dick deliciously fucked into your tight pussy, the feeling of his happy trail pounding possessively into your ass gushing out more of your stringy honey. He never let up on his assault, making sure you savored this just as much as he was; the way his cock relentlessly claimed every inch of your guts, and marked your pink in glossy white precum. And how with each passing second, your moans grew louder, unfiltered by anything to hold your pleasure back and overpowering his raspy curses and growls.

He starts coming back to himself, slowly but surely, as he drove his hips into yours in a constant state. He began to have the ability to appreciate how he sunk into your sex inch-by thick-inch with mild resistance of your clenching walls, and how your body would jitter perfectly against his when he thrusted just at the right angle. You were so delicious on his dick, trying to milk him for his worth with the vice-like clench you had on his pumping arousal. How he managed to survive the mission was beyond him, but the reward afterwards was all worth the wait as he could finally refill your hole with his veiny, heavy cock.

Tears prickled into your soft lashes, a small hiccup jolting through your ragged breaths, “Oh, God..!”

His hips slowed just enough to where your voice would calm down, taking your chin in a harsh grasp as he removed his hold on your shoulder and forced you to look over at him. His eyes burned holes into yours, clear utter possession and want flaring around his deep leather browns as he watched pearl after pearl streak down your cheeks from your cute butterfly wings.

“You know, it’s very fuckin’ rude to moan another man’s name as I’m bottomin’ out in you, even if you’re praying to God himself.”

With a low scoff, he whispered against your burning ear as he turned your head back to his knife, “Like he could do any better..”

Your stuttering apology slurred into nothing but noise, too fucked out to even try as your mind focused on how his dick twitched inside of you and dragged against your insides. The overwhelming heat of your sex piled and piled, getting far too scorching that you were on the brink of calling it quits. And yet, at the thought of having this end, you couldn’t bring yourself to tap out and return to your original home plan. You were drunk on his cock, the feeling of every pulsing vein and curve of his twitching sex throwing you further and further into the lustful fog at the back of your mind.

Your soppy cunt sucked and squeezed on his dick, your end drawing near with every slap of your coated thighs, and every desperate tug at your aching arms. Your womb burned with the need to snap, your legs shaking violently as your body begged for release, to reach that plain of ecstasy that would make you see fuzzy white. It was driving you mad, the denial to cum earlier ravaging your nerves like a powerful source as he continued to fuck you straight into the table. You were overwhelmed by all the cloudy sensations of sin— his smell, his dick, his chest, his mask— him. It was like biting into the forbidden fruit when you met him behind closed doors, your bodies colliding and dancing in the fires of your own desires as you gave in to your intrusive thoughts of the ghost.

It was likewise for the shadow himself, feeling the wrongs of behaving in such an inappropriate manner with his subordinate, yet being unable to look away from your innocent eyes as he passed by. To him, you were the temptation, the taboo. You were the forbidden fruit that God himself placed before him— a perfect little angel all for him to ruin and claim with every searing touch. He knew he was trapped the moment he gave in and took your body as his with a simple little graze of his fingers across your naked back. He didn’t mean to get attached. He didn’t mean to always come crawling back to your door that sat just across the hall. But he wasn’t dumb. He knew once that innocent little spark ignited in his cold chest, he had to have you. Call it fiction, but it was like fate for you to be his, just as it was his to be yours.

Sliding his hand away from your neck, Ghost pulled up his balaclava just above the tip of his nose before returning his grip to your blemished throat, “You’re going to— fuckin’ shit— cum all over my cock, and scream out my name like the good little fuck rabbit you are. Copy that.”

“Copied..” You moaned as your eyes scathed away from the knife, accentuating the 'e' with a short, fucked-out purr.

He groaned at your weak answer, shoving his clenching jaw into your neck as he looked up at your glistening face, “That’s— That’s my fuckin’ bun.”

As his need grew, he couldn’t hold back the feral upbringing of possession before he sunk his teeth into your flesh, only enough to leave a gruesome mark for your later discovery when you would clean yourself up in the showers. The possessiveness in his affirmation only made your heart flutter as your stomach did flips from how his voice thundered low in a lustful pitch before he laid needful claim on your neck. It didn’t stop there, either, as his teeth made your neck his personal canvas with deep love bites and purpling hickeys— you were his muse, and his muse alone to show off.

Pulling back from yet another hickey with a sickening pop, he placed his skull covered forehead right into your trapezius with a carnal snarl, “In or out, pet.”

You gasped out for a shaky breath of air against his rough thrusts, looking up into the ceiling as you arched your back in acceptance, “In!”

That was all he needed to hear, his pounding into your raw cunt becoming a feral mess of loud squelching and quickened slaps as his abdomen clenched and heavy balls tightened with the need to cum. You weren’t far behind, not in the slightest, as your mushy pussy began to spasm with your pulsing clit, your womb a burning fire that was ready to spread in an instant.

“Oh— cumming! Cumming, cumming, cumming!”

“Say it— say my fuckin’ name. Scream my bloody fucking name to whatever god is listening as you cum.”

That was it. You tipped right over the edge and screamed out his name, screamed out Simon. Your womb stuttered with each thread snapping and flushing throughout your core in convulsing heats, your hips bucking back into his as your eyes crossed up before fluttering shut. His arms quickly encased your body, wrapping around your waist and hugging you close as he fucked into you and coursed you right into overstimulation. With your arms caged under him, and your twitching figure forcing gurgled noises past your lips, he bottomed out inside of your cunt, sharp thrusts pushing every last drop straight into your womb and filling you to the brim.

Strained pants and groans puffed through the air as you came down from your highs, your legs shaking and possibly put out of commission from the restless fucking you had been given. The Lieutenant laid over your worn out body, resting his arms on the table to keep from piling too much weight on your small figure. He gazed at the mess of your spoiled skin from his markings, surging with pride over what he had done to his girl as his panting began to return to normalcy.

His attention snapped down to you, however, when he felt one of your soft fingers delicately trace along his tattooed sleeve, your eyes foggy while you looked over your shaky work. To keep his returning arousal down was a fucking war, but he managed when he noticed a gushing sensation ripple around his softening cock.

Ghost slowly sat up, running his hands over your sweaty skin to see what mess he had left between your quivering legs, and oh boy, did another war tear right through him when he saw that you had creamed all over his pelvis. His seed had began to spill out of your stretched hole, mixing with your own exertion as it traveled down your thighs and leaked straight from the source.

“Fuckin’ hell.. What a mess.”

You could only listen as he pulled out of your cunt, still keeping his form over your body in a protective stance just before he gently picked you up off the table and placed you on his lap when he sat in a chair. He pulled you close to him, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you finally managed to catch your breath and fill back with your lost sanity.

Stroking your back with a careful thumb, he peered down at you and spoke with a soft rasp, “You okay, love?”

You swallowed a forming saliva, wetting your dried throat before responding with a weak voice, “I’m okay.. I just hope they didn’t hear..”

Ghost couldn’t help the smirk that wiped onto his lips, “Oh, I’m sure they did. From the way you screamed my name, there’s no way they didn’t hear you creaming on my dick.”

You shook your head and nuzzled into his bunched shirt, sighing contently despite the sinful activity that just took place, in the debriefing room, no less, “God damn it..”

-

“Let’s go, MacTavish! You’re taking two minutes longer than last time!”

“Yes, sir!”

Price watched as Gaz and Soap wrestled around in the dirt, trying to overthrow one another as the spar continued. Ghost stood silent, arms crossed as he watched the two Sergeants have at each other, noting all their flawed advances and misses.

The Captain flashed his eyes towards his Lieutenant, gazing over his attentive posture before going back to the training, “Where is White?”

“I told her to sleep in for today.” He responded, eyes never once leaving the two men.

“I wonder why..” Price muttered, running a hand down his face with an amused scoff before returning it to his side, “You’re lucky I sent those two off to help with the luggage.”

Ghost just barely gave him a side glance, his own amusement underlying his blank stare before looking back at Soap tackling Gaz.

With a sigh of defeat, he shook his head as he crossed his own arms, “Your way of punishment astounds me, Simon.”

At this, he couldn’t help but let out his own thoughts, a subtle joking tone playing in his voice, “A little harsh directive time and again saves you the trouble, Price.”

“Yeah— saves me the trouble, grants you the pleasure.”

-

Masterlist Key

❤️ = Fluff

❤️‍🩹 = Whump

❤️ = Angst

❤️‍🔥 = Spice

🤍 = Author’s Favorite

••••••

One Shots

Cover Fire 💔❤️‍🩹

On the run after Graves's betrayal, you and Ghost work together to escape.

My Angel ❤️💔

Ghost shuts down your insecurities.

Recon 💔❤️‍🩹🤍

An Intel mission turns sideways and Ghost comes to rescue you.

Fall With Me 💔❤️‍🩹🤍

Things turn south on a mission.

Hold You Again ❤️💔🤍

Simon comes home to you after Chicago.

Impressions ❤️❤️‍🩹🤍

You're hurt on a mission.

Let Me Help You ❤️💔❤️‍🩹🤍

Simon has trouble letting people help him.

White Sheets ❤️🤍

Ghost wants to cuddle.

Sick Day ❤️❤️‍🩹

You're sick and Simon takes care of you.

Past Lives ❤️💔🤍

Simon tells you about his past.

Underground ❤️💔❤️‍🩹🤍

You and Ghost get trapped in an avalanche.

Underwater ❤️💔❤️‍🩹🤍

Ghost returns a favor and helps you with your fear of water.

As Long As I'm Here ❤️💔❤️‍🩹🤍

Simon has a nightmare.

Quiet Tunes ❤️

Ghost shares his music with you.

Til I Come Back To You 💔❤️‍🩹❤️🤍

Reader is rescued after being MIA for over six months.

Til I Come Back To You Pt2 ❤️💔🤍

Nearly a month after reader was rescued, Simon helps them navigate life while they try to remember who they are.

Mask Kisses ❤️

You help Simon take his mask off.

Cold Noses ❤️🤍

Ghost gives you one of his masks to keep warm.

Back To Life 💔❤️‍🩹

You're taken and Ghost must save you before it's too late.

Lingering Touches ❤️❤️‍🩹🤍

You're injured after the betrayal.

Your Sweet Embrace ❤️💔

Simon comes home after months of no contact.

Family Ties ❤️

Sister!reader > Your brother comes to crash at your place.

Birthday Wishes ❤️

You surprise Simon for his birthday.

Stitch My Heart ❤️❤️‍🩹

Ghost finds out you're afraid of needles.

Repeat Until Death 💔❤️‍🩹🤍

A mission to capture Shephard takes a turn.

Stars Around My Scars ❤️🤍

You show Simon how much you love his scars.

Blood Stained Silk ❤️❤️‍🔥🤍

You and Ghost go undercover together at an auction.

Black Silk ❤️‍🔥💔❤️❤️‍🩹🤍 (Coming Soon)

The tension between you and Ghost finally breaks.

Depth Over Distance ❤️💔

Ghost shuts himself off from the rest of the team after Shephard's betrayal and you help bring him back to the light.

Family Reunion ❤️

Your brother whom you thought was dead shows up at your door.

Windmill 💔❤️❤️‍🩹🤍

Ghost comes to your rescue after your helicopter crashes.

Windmill Vol. 2 💔❤️❤️‍🩹🤍 (Coming soon)

Ghost sees your helicopter crash and rushes to help you.

141 Family AU Fics (Chronological Order)

Baby Blues ❤️

Simon worries he won't be a good dad.

Lullaby ❤️

Simon helps your daughter get back to sleep.

Out For Blood ❤️💔🤍

Ghost's family is taken and he must get them back.

Princess Tea Party ❤️

Simon has a tea party with his daughters.

Midnight Tea ❤️

Simon's daughter helps him after a nightmare.

Headcanons

Girl Dad Ghost

Uncle Soap

Medic

dangerous game

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Summary: Following Bucky’s orders was never your strong suit. But when you sneak out when there’s a threat, you learn that sometimes it’s best to listen.

Warnings: pet names [princess], a smidge of angst, a bit of fluff, smut; mention of non-con (not by Bucky), unprotected sex, allusion to oral (f recieving). THIS BLOG IS 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI.

Author's note: because I can’t seem to focus on one thing at once I finally got around to finishing this. This was born from the gif because damn he looks so good. (word count: 1.9k)

"You're playing a dangerous game, princess," Bucky growls into the phone. 

"Yeah? Well it's a shame you're going to lose then isn't it?" You counter, rolling your eyes at your friend who can’t stop giggling. 

You know it isn’t the smartest of ideas sneaking out when Bucky has specifically told you to stay in tonight but at this point, you were finding it hard to care. Being cooped up for the past week was driving you crazy. You’d grown up with empty threats your whole life thanks to your father, the majority of your childhood and teenage years were sheltered and you’d be damned if you let your twenties go the same way.

“Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you and we can put this behind us,” Bucky grits through his teeth.

You can picture him right now, jaw clenching deliciously as he tries his best to stay calm. Riling him up is your favourite game to play.

You wink at your friend before giving Bucky your final words, “eat me, Barnes.”

You end the call, throwing your phone back into your purse before linking arms with your friend and heading inside the crowded club. 

After a couple of drinks any underlying guilt you felt at sneaking out had dissipated. You let the beat of the music take over as you danced with your friend, easily catching the eyes of some men across the room. You grind playfully back into your friend, throwing a wink at the cute guy who couldn’t take his eyes of you, only breaking eye contact to turn to your friend.

“I’m going to head to the bathroom, I’ll be right back!” you shout over the music before heading off the dancefloor. 

You were so used to having a bodyguard with you, you hadn’t even thought to keep aware of your surroundings. It isn’t until you’re dragged into a dimly lit storage room that you realise the position you’ve put yourself in. 

“You’re a hard little thing to get alone,” a voice growls in your ear, your front pressed harshly against the wall, your hands in a tight grip behind your back.

“Get off of me,” you shout, struggling in the man's grip.

The chuckle he lets out has your stomach churning in fear, “you’re a feisty little one, I like that.”

Your panic only grows as you feel him press into you harder, feeling his erection against your ass, it only has you struggling more. 

He whips you around so quickly it has your head spinning, one hand grips your wrists, pinning them above your head as the other takes a tight hold of your jaw. 

The smell of cigarettes on his breath has you gagging as he speaks, “now, my boss doesn’t care what state I deliver you in, as long as you’re alive, so I'd suggest you behave.”

Your eyes widen as you stop struggling to get out of his hold.

“Not as stupid as you look are you,” he snarls, “you’re a pretty little thing though, might just have to have some fun anyway.”

Fear surges throughout your body. You know you can’t overpower him but you refuse to just accept what’s about to happen. 

In a last effort of defiance you spit in his face, “fuck you!”

The smirk that stretches his chapped lips is nothing short of evil, “oh I plan to.”

You scrunch your eyes shut as he leans in, the feel of his tongue against your cheek has a broken sob escaping you. But, as soon as you feel him pressed against you he’s gone.

Without his body to keep you upright you slide down the wall to the floor, hugging your knees tightly as you keep your eyes tightly closed. 

You can hear commotion until it all goes quiet. Yet you’re too shaken to open your eyes. 

“Princess, it’s okay.”

At the sound of Bucky’s voice your eyes shoot open. The man that had grabbed you is laid unconscious in a heap by the opposite wall and Bucky is crouched in front of you, his eyes wildly scanning over you. 

Without a second thought you fling yourself into his arms, your tears finally escaping as your body shakes with the force of your cries. 

“Shh, you’re okay, I’ve got you. You’re okay,” you hear Bucky’s voice whisper to you softly, his hand soothing up and down your back. You grip onto him tighter, the leather of his jacket scrunching in your fists as he lifts you gently and carries you from the room.

By the time he has you in the back of the car your crying has stopped and a quietness settles over you both. Without looking you know his eyes are constantly flicking to look at you in the rear view mirror. 

It’s not until he’s gotten you home and into your room that you finally speak.

“I’m sorry.”

You can tell he wasn’t expecting that, his eyes widening slightly as he sighs, running his hand down his face.

“This shit is exactly why I need you to listen to me,” he says slowly, you’re not sure if it’s to keep from scaring you or to keep his anger in check. 

“I know,” you whisper.

“I’m not trying to clip your wings here, princess,” he sighs, sitting next to you on your bed, “but when I say there’s a threat, it means there’s a threat.”

“You don’t have to pretend to care about me, I know it’s your job you care about,” you snap. Your shock and fear slowly morphing into anger and embarrassment at the situation. 

His breathy chuckle surprises you almost as much as his next words, “you clearly haven’t been paying attention, princess,” he murmurs, cupping your cheeks in his large hands as he guides you to look at him.

You’re so used to seeing Bucky with a frown on his face - let’s face it, you don’t make his life easy - that the softness he’s levelling you with now is hard to digest. 

“You’ve got me all wrong if you think I don't care about you.”

Your eyes widen at his admission, your heart pounding in your chest for a whole new reason. You can’t help as your eyes flick from his eyes to his lips, your tongue dampening your own in the process. Bucky’s eyes watch the movement and his eyes seem to darken. 

The two of you move almost in sync as your lips press together. He holds you with such a delicate touch, as if afraid you’ll break, and as much as you appreciate it, it’s not what you need right now. 

You make the move to straddle his thighs, your hands tangling in his hair as you press your lips harder against him - hoping he’d get what you need. Yet, his hands rest gently on your hips. 

Pulling back breathlessly you rest your forehead against his, “please make me forget, Bucky.”

He pulls back from you slightly, tucking your hair behind your ear, “princess, are you sure about this?”

You nod meekly, “I don’t want to feel his touch on me.”

Those are all the words Bucky needs to hear before he’s flipping you onto your back swiftly. His lips descending on yours in a passionate kiss as he slots himself between your thighs. The short dress you’re wearing settles around your hips but you don’t have it in you to feel shy as his lips scorch a path down your throat. 

“Fuck, princess, thought about this moment for so long,” he grunts, his fingers trailing up your bare thigh before pressing down on the front of your silk panties.

Your back arches at the contact as you tug on his hair to pull his lips back to yours. 

Bucky rubs you over your panties, swallowing the small whimpers coming from you.

“Please Bucky, need you,” you sob.

“Yeah, want my fingers, princess?” he teases, pulling your soaked panties to the side and groaning at how wet you are.

“Want your cock,” you plead, too wound up to feel embarrassed by how needy you sound, “please fuck me.”

You clench around nothing at the growl he lets out as he sits up quickly. He shrugs his leather jacket off, the black t-shirt underneath clinging to his muscular form. You watch as he undoes his belt, not even bothering to take it off before he’s pushing his jeans down just enough to release his hard cock. 

He smirks at the whimper you let out at the sight of him as he leans back over you, resting his weight on his metal arm as he grabs his cock. Your body jolts slightly as he taps the head on your sensitive clit.

“You ready, princess?” he whispers against your lips.

You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling his full weight onto you as you kiss him again, only parting from his lips when you feel him start to push into you. 

The stretch is delicious and you can’t stop the groan that falls from your lips as he slowly pushes into you fully. 

“So fucking tight,” he grunts above you, his breath fanning your neck, sending shivers down your spine. 

The low growl he lets out as he starts pulling back goes straight to your core as you clench around him. You’ve never felt so full, so complete, so safe. 

He pushes back in with a harsh thrust that has your back arching. The pace he sets is rough and fast - just what you need. 

You grip onto his shoulders, holding on as he pushes your body to pleasure you’ve only ever dreamed of. 

“Fuck, yes, right there,” you chant as he hits your spot with each thrust. 

“You like that, princess?” he grunts, his flesh hand wrapping gently around your throat - not enough to restrict your breathing but enough to send your heart soaring. “Gonna have to keep you stuffed with my cock to stop you running off.”

You whimper against his lips, “won’t do it again, I promise.”

“I know you won’t. Can’t lose you, princess.”

He kisses you with a ferocity that has you mind spinning. Your grip on him tightening as you come closer to your end. 

“Shit, Bucky, gonna cum,” you pant.

When his metal digits reach your clit it sets your whole body ablaze. You clench around him like a vice, causing his hips to stutter as he cums with a groan. 

The two of you lay there for a moment. Bucky’s face is tucked in your neck and you can feel his panting breath against your sweat slicked skin. 

“I mean it, you can’t do that again,” Bucky whispers after some time. The vulnerability in his voice has guilt stirring in the pit of your stomach.

You give his hair a gentle tug, hinting at him to look at you. When he does you rest your palm against his cheek, smiling at the way he leans into your touch.

“I promise, I’ll listen. It won’t happen again.”

Seemingly satisfied with your answer he leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss before he sits up between your legs with a smirk, pulling his softening cock from your aching hole. 

“Well, now that you’re taken care of, I have a request to fulfil.”

You watch as he grips your panties, pulling them down your legs before spreading your thighs further, keeping them open with his shoulders.

“Buck, what are you doing?” you ask hesitantly.

He looks at you with a glint in his eye, “I seem to remember you saying ‘eat me, Barnes’.”

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this slice of bodyguard!Bucky ❤️ as always, comments and reblogs are super appreciated ✨❤️

I disagree. Ghost holds hands when he is eating you put to.stop you from squirming so much

A/N: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader. Oral. Wet stuff. He’s nasty.

Outside of their “moments,” Ghost won’t touch her unless he has to. He maintains a professional distance, and a part of her longs to stake her claim. Hold his damn hand, so the team understands how he gets on his knees for her or allows her to ride him.

He’s a legend to them. A myth. The lone wolf whose kill count is in the thousands. 

How many?

I don’t count ‘em. 

Oh?

I don’t lose sleep if that’s what you’re asking. 

They needle her, poke fun because she’s a woman, and it’s just so damn easy. Ghost never does, though. Ghost treats her like he treats everyone else with cool, stoic regard. 

Except when he fucks her. There’s that. 

***

It’s an uneventful night. The rest of the team is playing poker around a plastic card table. There’s smoke in the air from cheap cigars. Whiskey that’s sticking to her throat as she downs it. She leans against the doorway; arms crossed firmly over her chest. She should go to sleep. 

“Duchess.”

There he is. That voice matches the cigar smoke. It’s thick and impenetrable, and it licks up her spine. She feels his broad chest against her back, the heat of his bulk, and she wants the others to turn around and catch them. Sure it would appear like their lieutenant is simply chatting with her, but if they looked closely, they’d see...

He lowers his head so that his breath grazes her ear. “Needy, are we?”

She bites her lip, shutting her eyes. “No.”

“You may not believe I watch you, but I do.” If possible, his voice becomes even lower, dragging over gravel and full of suggestion. “I think about the sounds you make when I got my tongue inside you.”

She shudders, thighs squeezing together. Ghost’s pelvis shifts against her ass, and she restrains herself from leaning into his massive warmth. 

“It’s bloody distracting,” he exhales. “Tryin’ to give orders when all I can see is that wet little cunt in front of my face.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“They don’t see how I look at you,” he continues. “But that’s because it’s mine. What we do...what we have...that’s all mine, darling.”

She buries her nails into her forearm until it hurts. She glances at him over her shoulder, and he’s staring straight ahead like he hasn’t just confessed an intimate truth. He’s so close she can discern his blonde lashes, his deep sea eyes. They flicker toward her.

“Ghost,” she murmurs as he draws closer.

***

“Simon,” she moans, hips rolling against his face. He’s shoved his mask above his nose as he blows cool air against her cunt. He parts her folds and nudges his thumb against the swollen nub as she clenches down on nothing. His touch is practiced as he strokes and teases her. He slips his fingers inside her pussy before removing them. 

“Duchess,” he replies flatly, a flash of amusement like he enjoys wrecking her with as few gestures as possible. He holds her thighs open before he lowers his mouth and slides the flat of his tongue against the seam of her sex. She jerks, her foot knocking into the hard muscle of his torso.

“Easy, now,” he croons. “Stay still so I can eat you the way I like, yeah?”

One broad palm slaps gently against her inner thigh and pins it to the mattress. He sinks back down and buries his face into her pussy, lapping and sucking with a deliberate rhythm. He feasts, switching between his tongue and fingers. He crooks them inside her, thrusts in time with the soft sucks on her clit. There are the wet noises of her walls contracting around him. Ghost’s rumbling sounds of contentment as he tastes her. 

“Red,” he warns when she bucks against his face and potentially breaks his nose against her lower belly. 

“I can’t-I can’t help it,” she pants, and he sighs. It is impossible with the way he’s pulling pleasure from her. She feels like a naked branch in a storm, shivering and snapping against a glass window. Her muscles tense, her thighs twitch, and she can’t find leverage on this shitty cot. 

Finally, she feels warm flesh brush against her knuckles. She glances down as Ghost threads his thick fingers through her own. His hand dwarfs her fist as he pins it to the mattress. It anchors her body and allows her something to hold onto as she straddles the oncoming climax. She’s leaking all over him, slick running down her ass and staining the sheets. It encourages him. His hips grind into the bed, his pupils blown out as he watches her shudder; it feels so good. 

His thumb draws little circles against her hand as if to comfort her through it like this was a challenging task she had to win, an endgame for a mission. Her lungs are screaming - her heart thumps wildly against her ribs as the pleasure builds like a chemical reaction. Shocking. Overwhelming.

Tears prick her eyes. She swallows a sob as his stubble scorches her skin, his silky plush lips maneuvering against her cunt like he’s memorized it. Perhaps, he has. He's got a photographic memory, he handles her like he handles every precious weapon in his arsenal.

It’s coming - the pressure inside her core begins to cramp and fold until it slams right up against Ghost’s insistent mouth. 

“I feel it,” he groans as her walls spasm and her pelvis stutters against his chin. He tightens his grip on her hand, his other fingers sliding in and out of her soaked heat in an even, lazy drag.

“It’s - fuck - it’s too much,” she whines, and he doubles his pace, prepared to shove her off the damn cliff. 

“You’re a big girl, love,” he coaxes. “You can handle it, yeah? I know how good you are.”

That’s enough. Ghost’s praise that he hardly ever gives to anyone. It shoots her straight between the legs, where her cunt pulses and throbs like a wound. There’s so much pressure before everything is liquid. She feels wet, dripping, and when he rises to his knees, she is all over the lower half of his face.

He grins, straight, white teeth burning in the dark like a a crescent of stars, and she is momentarily stunned. She’s never seen him smile, or his teeth for that matter. She wants to lick them, taste them, and swallow him whole. The corner of his lips twitches like he knows what she’s thinking before he rucks the ski mask back down over his chin that’s gleaming with her slick. 

She sits up abruptly, reaching for him. “You can’t-”

“I can,” he grunts, flipping her onto her side and slapping her thigh. “Get your pretty ass dressed. We’ve got wheels up in thirty.”

Me? I need a vacation.

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Summary- Hosea creates an opportunity for Arthur and the reader to go on a little trip.

A/N- It's Arthur Morgan lovin' hour y'all! I am probably going to make it into a mini series, with each story taking place in a different location. Our boy Arthur really does deserve a vacation.

Tags: Fluff and Smut, Slightly possessive Arthur Morgan, Cuddling, sharing a bath.

Rating/warning: Rated 18+ for smut. Smut is in between the ************** so it can be skipped if you're not feeling it.

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

You let out a long sigh as you see Dutch, once again, berating Arthur about something or another. You have half the mind to go over there and tell Dutch to shove it, but you know what Arthur would say. He’d tell you that ‘it's just Dutch’. Blessedly you are pulled out of your rising frustration by the sound of Hosea calling your name. You wave him over before turning back to watch the men talk.

“Hey Hosea,” you mumble as you rest your elbows on your knees. Hosea takes a seat next to you so that you both get a good look at Dutch and Arthur talking.

“Dutch never lets up on your husband, does he?” Hosea utters as he too watches the men.

“No, but I’d be damned if I didn’t say he oughta give Arthur a break.”

“Well, that’s precisely what I’ve been thinkin’," Hosea responds with a smile.

Now that caught your interest, you turn to look at Hosea prompting him to further explain.

“I think the both of you need a little break. Take some time off, go into a town, relax and get some rest for a while,” Hosea explains as he gives you a light pat on the back. The thought excites you a little. While in Saint-Denis you heard talk of something newlyweds were beginning to do called a ‘honeymoon’. During this time couples would go on a trip just for the sake of enjoying it. You and Arthur had been married for about a year and a half now, so you wouldn’t consider yourselves as ‘newlyweds’ but the idea sounded fun. However, your heart sank when the reality of the undertaking hit you.

“And how do you suppose we do that? Dutch probably already has another job for Arthur and Grimshaw will just about lose her mind if she thinks I’m going off for a leisure trip,” you sigh as you slump back down in your seat.

“I’ve got a plan that’ll solve that problem,” Hosea grins as he speaks.

” I’ll tell Dutch and Susan that I’ve got you doing a job for hmm,” Hosea asks as though he is thinking, but you know him better than that, he already has this planned down to the last detail,” a month.”

“A month! We can’t be gone for a whole month! We certainly don’t have the savings for that.”

You look at him with wide eyes. While both you and Arthur work your tails off for money, most of that goes to the gain. You tend to keep a larger cut for yourself than Arthur does, but that meager amount still doesn’t give you nearly enough.

“I’ve thought of that too,” Hosea says as he tries to keep the smile off of his face. Hosea lifts the strap of the bag he’s wearing and places it over your shoulder.

“What’s this?” you ask as he begins untying the front of the satchel. Hosea flips the top piece open to reveal stacks of cash. Your eyes widen at the sight. You’ve never seen so much cash in one place, except for maybe a bank.

“This is for the both of you. It’s 500 dollars.” Hosea announces.

“But we can’t just take your money….”

Your words trail off as you continue looking at the bag of money in your lap.

“There’s none I’d rather go to. You better believe me when I say Arthur does more for this gang than it deserves. Consider this a payment for the debt we owe him,” Hosea grins as he says the words.

“Thank you,” you utter, still too stunned to form full sentences.

“No you take that boy and make him get some rest,” Hosea exclaims as he closes the bag and ties it back up.

“Where’d you get all this anyways?” You ask playfully as you squint at him. Hosea takes a moment to laugh before offering you an explanation.

“I may be an old man, but that don’t mean I can still do a job on my own now,” Hosea remarks before standing and offering you a hand to help you stand as well,” now, let’s go tell the others that you and Arthur have a very important job to do.”

You smile as you take his hand and stand, before walking over with him to where Dutch and Arthur are.

“Now I’ve got this plan here—”

“Dutch, I need to talk to you for a second.”

Hosea interrupts Dutch and pulls him off to the side before throwing his arm over the other man’s shoulder. Hosea and Dutch speak quietly for a few moments, you can’t make out the words but you know the conversation is about the both of you as Dutch keeps raising his eyebrows in your direction every so often. As the two older men talk, Arthur gives you a questioning look expecting you to elaborate on the situation.

You lean in close to him before whispering,” I’ll explain later.” You watch as Dutch’s brow furrows and you fear that he won’t agree to the plan, but, as always, Hosea manages to ease Dutch’s worries, prompting him to give a little nod. The two men make their way back to you and Arthur.

“So it seems that my plan has to wait ‘cause Hosea already has a job for the both of you. Hosea already explained it to [y/n] here and she agreed,” Dutch states, and Arthur just cocks his eyebrows in response before Dutch continues,” It seems like this is going to involve a lot of travel and time so I guess we won't be seein’ the two of you for a month.”

Arthur’s eyes widen at the statement. He was used to being sent on long jobs, but never with you. At this moment he didn’t really care what the job entailed, he was just too excited at the idea of spending a whole month with you.

“When do we leave?” Arthur asks as he looks from Dutch to Hosea, you, too, were wondering the same thing.

“First thing in the morning,” Hosea explains, “that should give the two of you time to get your things together. Now, if you will excuse Dutch and me, we have to go talk to Susan.”

—-------------- “Alright,” Arthur announces as he pulls back the tent opening, ushering you inside,” You’ve gotta start explain’ some things. What’s this ‘job’ Hosea has us doing?”

You smile widely as you look up at Arthur.

“He told me that we should go on a trip, like a honeymoon.”

“A honey what?” Arthur questions as he flops down on the cot. Arthur lets out a tired groan at the feeling of finally being able to sit down.

“A honeymoon. It’s when a new couple takes a trip just to enjoy themselves. Heaven knows that you definitely deserve a vacation,” you exclaim, plopping down beside him.

“Right, so how does Hosea expect us to be able to afford all of this? I mean, we’re not exactly rolling in cash right now,” Arthur sighs.

“Hosea gave me this,” you announce as you untie the top flap of the satchel,” It’s $500.” Arthur’s eyes go wide in response to what he sees.

“But how? We can’t just accept this. What about the gang?”

Arthur rambles on for a bit before you stop him.

“Arthur Morgan,” you state sternly,” this gang has taken almost everything from you. Hell, they probably owe you more than this for all you have done. If you can’t accept the money or the trip for yourself, then just do it for me.”

Arthur nods as he lets the words sink in. You know he’d do anything for you. He’d leave everything and just walk away from the gang if you asked him to.

“Okay. For you. So where do you wanna go?” you ask. Arthur wraps an arm around your shoulder before pulling you closer to him.

“Anywhere as long as I’m with you, Mrs. Morgan.” —--------------------------------

The both of you decide to start your trip by heading out west. While its vast expanses and beautiful scenery are alluring, the lack of people also proves to be the bigger selling point. Fewer people mean there is less of a chance that you or Arthur would get recognized.

That evening, while Arthur is finishing up a couple of tasks around the camp, you work on packing all the essentials, which for this trip, is basically everything the both of you own, not there is that much. You hear someone cough outside of your tent and you turn to find Hosea leaning up against one of its posts.

“So you two make a decision on where yer going to go?” Hosea asks as he folds his arms across his chest.

“Yes, we are heading out West,” you explain as you step closer to him, offering him a wide grin. Hosea nods in approval.

“Good. Lots of space out there. Bess loved when we would go in the spring, she always enjoyed seeing the flowers,” Hosea sighs, a twinge of sadness creeping into his words. You give him a moment to reminisce before asking the question that is on your mind.

“Hosea, what happens when we get back and don’t have any money from the supposed job?”

Hosea just chuckles a little before he replies.

“Mrs. Morgan, do you really think that your husband would let the two of you come back empty-handed?” Hosea replies. He makes a good point. If you know Arthur, and you do, seeing as you are married to the man, always has some sort of plan brewing in the back of his mind at all times.

“Just don’t let him work too hard. This is a vacation for him after all,” Hosea smiles but his words are interrupted by a coughing fit. Sadness strikes you as you watch the man double over, and you move to help him take a seat but he just waves you off. After a moment, Hosea manages to get control over his lungs and stands back up. The exhaustion in his eyes is clear.

“Now if you just happen to find yourselves in the position that you can do so, why don’t the two of you scope out the area to see if there is any place that would be a good area for the gang in the future,” Hosea mentions as brings a hand up and rubs it against his chin,” I ain’t got much time left and I just wanna make sure the gang is in a good place before I go.”

You nod solemnly, understanding just how much this gang means to Hosea, Arthur would be the same way if he were to be in a similar position. You quickly push the thought of losing Arthur far from your mind as

“Oh, I forgot to ask. How did it go with Ms. Grimshaw?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“It wasn’t pretty but Dutch and I didn’t really give her a say in the matter,” Hosea chuckles. You have to smile to yourself, you know how stubborn the woman can be. However, you doubt the camp would even be able to make it without her.

“Everything alright?” Arthur asks as he approaches the two of you.

“Just finalizing the last details. You choose a great place to go, Arthur. Fresh mountain air, clear skies, a place to really relax,” Hosea announces as he pats the man on the back,” well I best get a move on and let you two finish your packing.”

Both you and Arthur say your goodbyes to Hosea before you turn around to resume gathering your things. Arthur walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you back against him.

“You happy?” Arthur hums before placing a kiss on your neck. You sigh a small ‘uh huh’ as you relax into the man’s touch.

“Good,” Arthur responds as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck,” I really need a vacation.”

The next morning the two of you get an early start, heading out of camp just as dawn is breaking. You had said your goodbyes to the others the previous evening, so there was no need to wait on them to wake up.

It was going to take you a couple of days to reach Colorado, so you had planned a couple of stops on the way. The first was in the town of Strawberry, and you were able to reach it by mid-day. You were already a little tired from the ride, so Arthur decided to go ahead and rent a room for the two of you. The plan was to rest for an hour or two before doing some supply shopping around the area, however, those plans quickly change when you see the hungry look in his eyes.

As Arthur is paying for the room, you look over to see his intense gaze upon you. Those icy blue eyes are almost predatory. He wants you. You feel the first hints of arousal gathering in your core as the two of you remain locked in a stare.

Arthur has no idea what got him going, but he sure as hell isn’t going to complain. Maybe it was the thought that he finally has some time alone with you, no chance of being interrupted by the gang, no responsibilities to uphold, just you and him with the freedom to do as you please.

You smirk at him as he strides over to you after receiving the key from the hotel staff. He grabs your wrist and has you follow him up the stairs to your room.

*****************************************************************

You barely have time to walk through the door to your room before Arthur slams it shut and locks it. Turning back you see the look in his eyes is wild and hungry. You know what that look means. He wants you and he’s going to have you. 

Arthur drops the saddle bags to the floor before he crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is desperate, you feel his tongue explore your mouth as he backs you up against the bed. The both of you flop onto the bed when your knees hit the back of the frame. You let out a little squeak at the feeling of Arthur landing on top of you. Arthur pushes himself up onto his elbows so that he is holding his weight instead of you. 

“Sorry darlin’,” Arthur murmurs as he pulls away from the kiss before beginning to place hot, open mouthed kisses along your jawline. A moan escapes your lips as you feel his hand wander over your body, as he fiddles with the buttons of your blouse. 

“Damn it!” Arthur growls when he has to pull away from your jaw to focus on the buttons keeping him from feeling your soft skin in his hands. With all of his focus being on the blouse, Arthur quickly manages to remove the shirt. He feels his cock stir in his trousers at the sight of your bare skin before him. Arthur helps you to sit up as he finishes removing the blouse and your chemise. You gasp as you feel his calloused hands begin to caress your tender skin. 

You feel the rough scratch of his stubble as he gently places kisses onto your breasts. As his mouth showers one breast in attention, his hand attends to the other, pinching your nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation has you moaning out his name and arching your back. You feel yourself grow even more damp with the action and you rub your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the ache there. 

“Arthur,” you muse, causing Arthur to look up into your eyes,” I’m supposed to be takin’ care of you on this trip.” 

You know Arthur gets off on giving you pleasure, but you still can’t help but feel a little guilty for just laying there under him, doing nothing. 

“Oh darlin, you really wanna please me?”

You give an eager nod. A smile spreads across Arthur’s face as he brings one hand up to cup your cheek before he positions himself so that his mouth is right next to your ear. ,” if you really want to take care of me you’ll just lay and let me hear those moans while if fuck this sweet little pussy.”

Arthur emphasizes his words by rubbing his hand against your clothed core. The combination of his words and movements have you whining pitifully underneath him. His trousers are painfully tight, the feeling of his hard member pressed up against your thigh has him desperate. After his battle with your blouse, Arthur decides to forgo the removal of your skirt. 

Arthur grunts as bunches up your skirt so that he can access your core. You let out a moan as you felt him sliding two fingers into you. Normally Arthur would take his time, slowly teasing you with fingers and mouth before finally giving you what you wanted, but today was different. Arthur was fucking you with his fingers roughtly as he nips at your collar bone. You can hear him fumbling around with his gun belt with one hand while his other continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. You have one hand fisted into the sheets while the other grasps as his shirt. Arthur tosses his gun belt off to the side of the bed before working to undo the front of his trousers. 

A groan escapes his lips when he manages to free his hard cock. He gently removes his fingers from your center, causing you to whine a little at the loss. Arthur chuckles at the sound. 

“Oh don’t you worry darlin’,” Arthur smirks as the words leave his mouth,” I’ve got something that I think you’re gonna like a lot more.”

You wiggle your hips to signal that you’re ready for him, but to your confusion, Arthur gets up off the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see what he is doing, before he grabs your calves, roughly pulling you to the edge of the bed. You hold your bunched up skirt out of the way as you watch Arthur position himself at your entrance. 

“Alright, hold on,” Arthur instructs as he brings one of your hands up to wrap around his neck. What does he me by— 

Your thoughts are interrupted by Arthur thrusting into as he wraps his arms around your back. He’s a big man and he knows it so he gives you a few moments to adjust to his size. The stretch of him has you closing your eyes and fisting both hands into the fabric of his shirt. Arthur’s thumb rubs soothing circles on your thigh as he coos praises at you. Telling you that you’re such a good girl and that you're his good girl. You squeak as he lifts you up into the air and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. Arthur doesn’t start slow. He starts railing up into you at a punishing pace. The feeling of the rough fabric of his shirt against your naked breasts adds to much sensation to the already overwhelming pleasure. The gasps and groans of the two of you can be heard echoing throughout the room. You are glad that it’s midday so not many people in the hotel can hear your love making. Arthur walks the both of you over to a wall and presses your back against it, this gives him the opportunity to move his hands down so that he is supporting you with one hand on your rear and the other tightly gripping your thigh. 

The angle of his thrusts has him hitting your g-spot with every movement. Arthur can feel your slick leaking out onto his trousers as he continues to fuck you. You move your hand so that it is buried in his hair. You give it a little tug to indicate you want Arthur to lean in for a kiss. Arthur gently places his lips against yours. However, the kiss is anything but gently, you lightly bite at this lower lip, causing him to growl. He increases the ferocity of his thrusts as he continues to kiss you. 

“Ah Arthur,” you moan as he continues to fill you. 

“You like this. I know you do,” Arthur purrs in your ear. You can feel the tell tale signs of an orgasm approaching as the heat in your core begins to coil tighter. You attempt to give your clit some sort of friction by grinding yourself against Arthur, but it is impossible at this angle. However, Arthur must sense your frustration, he braces you against the wall before snaking one of his hands in between your bodies. It takes him a moment to weave himself under your skirt before his hand finds its way to where the both of you meet. You let out a long groan as you feel a calloused thumb beginning to rub a small circle against your clit. 

Just as you are about to reach your peak, there is a knock at the door. “Damn it,” Arthur whispers, remembering that he had told the hotel staff to bring up some water for a bath. Arthur slows his thrusts but doesn’t stop, only pushing in about half way before pulling out and repeating the motion. You clamp your hand over your mouth to keep from moaning. 

“Just a minute!” Arthur calls out as he begins rubbing your clits harder. This causes your orgasm to wash over you. Your legs shake in his grasp and you have to bite your lip to keep from making any noise. Arthur pulls out and quickly sets you down on the bed before throwing a blanket over you. He tucks himself back into his trousers as he walks over to the door. He opens it and takes the two large buckets of steaming water from the bellboy standing there. Arthur thanks him before setting the buckets inside of the room and closing the door behind him. 

“Everything good?” Arthur smiles, watching you trying to catch your breath. He carries the water over and pours it into the small wooden tub in the corner of the room. You watch as steam begins to rise up from the water before you answer Arthur. 

“Yes. What about you?” You question as you begin to throw the blanket off of yourself. Arthur makes a motion, indicating for you to remain in place. Arthur walks back over to stand next to the bed before cupping your cheek in his hand. 

“He’s coming back with two more buckets of water. Don’t want him seein’ what’s mine,'' Arthur purrs as he lightly strokes your jaw with his thumb. Just as expected, there is another knock at the door. Arthur once again answers it and retrieves two more buckets of water along with some towels and soap. This time he locks the door when he closes it. While he adds the water to the tub, you stand and finish undressing yourself before walking over and stand behind Arthur. 

“Now let me take care of my husband,” you coo as you run your hands down his back gently. Arthur groans at the touch,” whatever ya say darlin’. I’m all yours.”

You smirk as you walk around to the front of him, hand still trailing along on this body. Your hands begin undoing the buttons of his shirt as his hands message the meat of your outer thighs. Moving to his suspenders after you finish with his shirt, you manage to unbutton them quickly. You gently push him down until he is sitting on a small wooden stool. You sink to your knees to first pull off one boot and then the other. One of your hands brushes against his hard cock as you undo his trousers. He moans your name in response. He stands back up to allow you to remove his pants. You have to take a moment to admire his large thick cock before continuing. 

“Hop in,” you say, gesturing to the tub.

“What about you? Aren’t ya gonna join me?” Arthur asks as he steps one foot into the warm water. 

“Maybe but there’s something I want to do first,” you explain as you walk over to grab the soap and towel left sitting by the door. Arthur lets out a pleased sigh as he slowly sinks into the water. Arthur dunks his head under the water and comes back up, wiping away the dirt from his face. You move the wooden stool so that it is sitting beside the tub before having a seat on it. Arthur leans back and closes his eyes as he feels himself relax. 

“Feel good?” you question as you lather up some soap in between your hands. Arthur just hums in response as he feels your fingers run through his wet hair. You begin to gently massage the soap into his hair, you can feel his muscles ease up as you begin to trail your hand down to his shoulders. You continue with your message as you knead the tension out of his biceps. 

“Feels good,” Arthur mumbles as your hands continue to work on him. 

“Good,” you coo in his ear as you get off the stool and onto your knees. This way you can reach deeper into the tub. Arthur groans as he feels one of your hands moving lower. You follow the hair on his chest down to where you were planning to go all along. Arthur gasps and opens his eyes as you gently wrap your fingers around his hard member. You just shush him and encourage him to close his eyes again. 

“Let me take care of you.”

Arthur's eyes slide shut one more as you begin rubbing his cock with your hand. You make sure to give the sensitive head some extra attention by rubbing your thumb over it on every up stroke. Arthur’s hips begin lightly thrusting up to meet your movements. 

“Oh fuck,” he grunts as he feels himself getting closer. You speed up your movements. 

“Come on Arthur, be a good boy and cum for me,” you whisper. Arthur nearly doubles over as he cums hard. Ropes of thick, white cum land on his stomach as your name falls from his lips. 

“I love ya darlin’,” Arthur pants and he tries to catch his breath after such an intense orgasm. 

“I love you too,” You reply as you caress the stubble on his cheek before reaching over to grab a washcloth. Arthur smiles as he watches you wipe away the traces of his orgasm from his chest. 

*****************************************

“You gonna join me?” Arthur chuckles as he offers you a hand to help you into the bath.

"Sure you won't be too cramped?" You ask, hesitating to take his hand.

"No. I'd actually be offended if you don't get in here."

With this you take his hand before you step into the tub. Arthur has a leg on either side of your body as he pulls you flush against his chest. 

“Besides,” Arthur explains as he starts to massage soap into your hair,” this is your vacation too.”

The warm water eases the tension in your muscles and you allow your eyes to flutter closed as you lean your head back, resting it on Arthur.

“See, I was right. Now just relax,” Arthur coos in your ear. He hums as he continues to lather your body in soap. 

The both of you remain seated in the water until it turns cold before deciding to get out. As you dry off your legs, you turn to find Arthur smiling at you. 

“Do you mind?” you giggle as you continue to rub your body with the towel. 

“Not at all,” Arthur smirks before walking over to you. He places a gentle kiss on your head before resuming the task of redressing. 

Oh this will be a fun vacation. 

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

Thanks for reading. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. As always feel free to comment or message me with any ideas for future works or just pop in to say hello.

GOT BORED AND DID THIS😍

@beskarprincessjenny @klarex

Sass (Din Djarin)

This one is for @1800-fight-me who said some stuff about Din to me and then said some other stuff about Din to me and then my brain wouldn’t let it go...

Word count: 1500+ Rating: mature, 18+ only Outline: “Mand'alor” Din Djarin x “You” (petite female reader, clumsy, “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”) Warnings: curse words and vulgar language; Din picking you up; two clothed spanks on the bottom; undressed Reader/clothed Din; one erection; Din’s roaming hands; Din touching you through your panties; one instance of Din grabbing your chin; mentions of blow jobs; mentions of P/V sex; mentions of bare-bottom spanking; mentions of sex in the throne room with possibility of getting caught; Din’s got a filthy mouth

You fumbled and dropped something for what felt like the millionth time that day, cursing under your breath. You stopped in the dusty road, shifting your bags around, trying to redistribute them so you could free your hand to pick up your parcel from where it lay in the dirt.

The air was hot and dry, and you wanted nothing more than to get back to the ship and take a shower, wash off the dust of the town. You didn’t mind accompanying your husband to his various diplomatic meetings and conferences, especially the ones on jewel-like tropical planets or at breathtaking palaces perched on mountain ridges. But this stop was different, a sudden detour on the way home... and from the hunch of Din’s shoulders as he landed the ship, and the way he suggested you go shopping in the street market while he held his “meeting” you could guess that it wasn’t on the official roster for his week. You hoped that he would at least come back to the ship in one piece.

You retrieved your parcel and tucked it under your arm, huffing in exasperation. You rounded the corner and finally saw the ship, gleaming in the hot sun. Your face broke into a smile as you saw that the ramp was down, meaning Din was probably inside getting ready to start the last leg of the journey home.

You hurried a bit, arms laden with bags and packages, and then disaster struck. You were just a meter away from the ship when your sandal caught the long hem of your dress, and you tripped. Parcels and their contents went scattering, although the worst of your fall was broken by your large cloth bag. You lay there for a moment, stunned, and then looked up to see Din walking down the ramp.

“Are you okay, cyar'ika? That looked embarrassing.” His voice held concern with a note of amusement. Din was used to your various scrapes and entanglements, and you thanked the stars every day that Mandalorians valued intelligence and grit far above poise and grace, even in their queen.

You huffed out a groan and pushed yourself off the ground, grasping one of Din’s large gloved hands for assistance. Din stooped to gather items as you brushed yourself off, striding back up the ramp to deposit your things inside the ship. The front of your dress was caked with dirt, and no amount of swatting it with your hands would do. You sighed and gave up on cleaning yourself. You picked up two oranges that had rolled a few feet, and then started up the ramp.

Din came down to meet you, and you stopped to let him look you over.

“Are you hurt, cyar'ika?” His voice was softer now, full of love and concern. Din held your face in his hands, tilting your chin up to have a look at you in the bright sun.

You smiled and swatted his hands away, laughing. “I’m fine! It wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t stopped on this godforsaken planet, but someone decided they had business to attend to.”

Din tilted his helmet back a bit, that imposing stance doing nothing to intimidate you the way it had countless adversaries in his lifetime.

You put your hands on your hips and pushed your lower lip out at him. “Or maybe I wouldn’t have to do all this shopping if you had let me join you for your meeting.”

Din suddenly went still. “You know I can’t do that, cyar’ika. That meeting was dangerous.”

You decided to push him just a little. “Can’t have been too dangerous, if they sent you instead of m- oof!”

The words were barely past your lips when you felt your feet go out from under you and the world turned over. You found yourself hanging over Din’s shoulder as he turned to stride back up the ramp, his large gloved hand holding both your knees firmly so you wouldn’t fall.

“Hey!” You hated that your voice came out in a squeak. “Put me down!” You beat uselessly on his back plate with your fists, blood rushing down to your face as he carried you effortlessly.

Din snarled at you in Mando’a. “Udesii,” and his free hand came up to smack you on your bottom.

His voice was dark with just a hint of amusement. “Quiet. For being such a little thing, you cause an awful lot of trouble.” Another hard smack landed on your rear, and you felt your panties grow damp.

Din didn’t break stride as he whacked the control panel with the side of his fist to close the ramp behind him. He carried you into the cockpit and finally put you back on your feet, ignoring your indignation as he lifted off. When the ship was off-planet and set to autopilot, Din swiveled his chair to face you.

He pointed at you and growled an order. “Your dress is dirty, cyar’ika. Take it off.”

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the ladies you pick up in dusty landing lots.” You laughed and put your fists on your hips.

“Now. I won’t tell you again.” His words struck you behind your sternum, the excitement causing your heart to thud harder, your breath coming all in a rush.

You paused for a split second, and then hurriedly undid all of the fastenings of your dress, letting it fall from your shoulders to the floor of the cockpit. You stepped out of your shoes and swept the pile to one side with your foot. You stood in just your underthings and canted your hips to one side, raising an eyebrow at your husband.

“See anything you like?”

Din snarled from under his helmet and curled a finger at you. You obeyed and started walking slowly over to him.

Apparently it wasn’t fast enough, because Din leapt to his feet and grabbed your wrist, pulling you the last two steps to his pilot’s chair. You collapsed onto his lap, your landing softened somewhat by one strong arm around your waist. Din scooped one hand under your knees and turned you sideways on his lap, tucking you against him and tilting his helmet to rest against your temple.

“I don’t like your sass, woman.” The words spilled out of his modulator right into your ear, sending a chill down your neck. The feel of his thigh plates against the backs of your legs was exquisite. Din kept one hand firmly around your hip, while the other trailed up and down your arm, raising goosebumps.

You shuddered a breath in, feeling your panties grow wetter. But you knew the ins and outs of this game, and how delicious it would be to play.

“That’s too bad, Din. You’re kind of stuck with me. I’m your riduur after all.” You giggled.

“Quiet.” Din wrapped his fingers around your jaw, pursing your lips out slightly. He ran one large, gloved finger over your lips and you playfully snapped at it, trapping the leather tip between your teeth.

“And she bites, too?” Din tsked softly. “What am I going to do with you?”

You released his finger and smiled. “I don’t know… what are you going to do with me?”

“I have a few ideas.” Din hummed thoughtfully. “I think as soon as we get home I’m going to take you to the throne room, bend you over my knee and smack your bottom until it’s so tender you can’t sit down.”

You gasped and squirmed on his lap, feeling more chills run up and down your skin with anticipation. Din’s fingers dug into your hip to still your movements.

“And when you can’t take any more, I think I’ll make you kneel down and take my cock into that lovely, wet little mouth of yours.” You felt Din’s erection start to harden against your hip, and you wiggled closer to him. He groaned once, softly, and you smiled to yourself in satisfaction.

“And- and then what?” You whispered, aching to be touched, aching for any kind of release that you could get. Din brought his free hand to your breast and you moaned. You heard him chuckle at that, squeezing the heft of your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“And then I’ll make you sit on my lap.” You felt Din’s cock twitch against your hip and you longed to fulfill every dirty fantasy he was spilling into your ear.

“I’ll bury my cock deep inside you while you face the room, hold your legs open and rub your clit until you come around me.”

Din worked his fingers harder over your nipple and you whined.

“You like that idea, mesh’la? Spread wide on my lap where anyone could walk in and see us?”

You couldn’t answer, only grind your hip sideways against his erection. Din plunged two fingers down between your legs and rubbed you through your underwear. You keened a high sound and squirmed as hard as you could against his hand.

“Oh, I think you do like that idea. Looks like you’re done mouthing off now, hmm?”

You sighed and rolled your head back, and let Din talk to you all the way home.

--- Din Djarin/Mando character masterlist

JHFTM Main Masterlist

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Unlike a Knight

Sellsword Din Djarin x F!reader

PART 2 WC: 1,771 Inspired by my Knight!Din art Part 1 Tags: eventual smut 18+, explicit language (swearing but in a fancy olde english kinda way), descriptions of violence Join the taglist Masterlist

You had never liked the city. It was a habitat that demanded fast paces and flexibility which weren’t beyond your capability but mixed with the sheer number of people and the looming City Watch- you found it a place you were grateful to live far from.

However, since the city was a fair way away, it meant that if you needed to go there it would be no quick errand. And it was the very situation that you were in that warranted such a trip. Kuiil’s fever had worsened in only a few days to the point that you were now forcing him to stay in bed, and insisted on clearing out the inn for the day so that you could go to the wretched city and find the stubborn man some medicine.

You would have gone to see the local village healer for medicine but as luck would have you cursed, the healer had been arrested by the City Watch only the other week for reasons no one seemed to know- “malpractice” you were told and nothing more. You remained suspicious. So the city was both your last resort and your only choice.

So you set out at dawn with your woven market bag tucked into your belt and a headscarf on to keep your hair back. You crossed the short distance from the backstep of the inn to the stables, forcing the will for what you were about to face to fill you with each step.

Kuiil had never seen much use in keeping a horse in the stables for himself but he did have a mule named Blurg. It was rather a fitting creature for a man like him you supposed; slow but strong and reliable, grey, quiet but certainly stubborn. You liked Blurg but resented the fact that your journey into the city would only be made longer on his back.

Nevertheless, you hitched him up quickly and mounted him, kicking off from his stall with a gait just shy of a trot in the direction of the high road. The fresh air of the early early morning was undeniably pleasant and through your resentment for the circumstances that had you on this journey you were grateful for the clarity the air gave you- you hoped it might relieve you of the feverish thoughts you had been having concerning a certain sellsword.

Two days had passed since that rough-tongued sellsword had left the inn and your company but he was yet to leave your mind. No matter what you did you couldn’t stop your thoughts from shifting to him- scrubbing the blood he had left on the floor the next day, serving patrons, changing bed linens and taking others out to wash and dry- and what might’ve happened if he had grabbed you instead of that tankard of mead.

Nothing about the way he moved or spoke suggested that he would take you with any sort of delicacy- a display of self-entitlement and obnoxity that would have sent your hand across his face had it actually happened- but that only spurred on your thoughts, excited by the tension that had been apparent between you and him.

You thought about the finer details of him, filling in parts of him that you would likely never know with your purely indulgent fantasies:

His hair had been scruffy, curling over his forehead and sticking out in messy directions at the back of his neck, it looked like it could be feather-soft, a dream to run your fingers through. The hair at his ears came down to frame around the shape of his jaw, wiry hairs tracing over the top of lips that hid a rough tongue from view- a tongue that would be put to far better use if it were buried deep inside your own mouth or inside your cunt.

Those scruffy hairs on his chin would burn across your skin, tracks marked into you with his hungry mouth latched to your body as he proved that he preferred to drink from you over any mead...

The kind of man that was disguised by layers of amour and beskar could be anything you wished and only in those fantasy wishes would you submit to him; you knew that if he dared to come back into your life you’d be no more receptive to him and his obtrusive and harsh manner.

…

By the time the city came into near view, it was midday, the sun high in the sky. You didn’t dare take Blurg through the city so you found the stables outside the city walls, promising him you wouldn’t take long and sweetening your bond with the mule with a sack of oats you brought off the stable boy.

Once inside the city walls, past the invasive stares of the guardsmen posted at the gates, you took the main road to the heart of the capital. Even though you were moving on foot now, you made good time as your momentum was subconsciously encouraged to keep up with the flow of people around you. You knew there was probably a quicker way to get to the Masters’ Hall but you certainly weren’t going to chance any shortcuts down slim alleyways or streets you were unfamiliar with; at least from the heart of the city you could pick out the dome top of the Hall above the rest of the buildings and then go from there.

…

“You say this balm is for your father?”

The Master was old- younger than Kuiil, you were sure, but not so young-looking and he spoke like his throat was full of ash- so you didn’t bother to correct him in that Kuiil was your employer. “Yes, that’s right.” You said. You tried not to reveal how impatient you were growing at the slow pace with which the Master wrote down each ingredient with delayed strokes.

“You’ll need to apply this liberally to the back of his neck, forehead and chest twice a day- the powdered nerf hoof makes it smell something horrible but that’s an important part of it and shouldn’t be missed, see, its always the young girls like yourself that don’t use the hoofs because it offends their delicate noses but it is a very important part of the recipe so if you find it too bothersome-”

At this rate you would be there all day and night. “Thank you.” You said hastily, “When will he get better?”

The old Master huffed, clearly disappointed that you would not let him continue his leisurely ramblings about the sensitivity of a woman’s nose. He scratched down the last ingredient with his quill, the ink dropping across the rest of the page. “A week. If the nerf hoof bothers you so much perhaps your husband could mix-”

“Is all this enough for a balm that lasts a week?” you gestured at the amounts he had written on the list, aggressively avoiding the husband comment. Dangerous, dangerous territory. “I don’t want to come back to the city…” He looked up at you then, a look of patronizing agreement on his face that you tried to snuff out quickly by adding, “and leave him home by himself again.”

He dropped his quill to the table, ink left in the tip blotting against the edge of the paper which he then gave to you. “With the right rationing It is enough.”

“Thank you very much.” You started to back up to reach the door before he could steal more of your time.

“Of course, girl. Will you be needing anything else?”

You left with a “no” and another “thankyou” but he didn’t leave your heels until you had fully left the Masters’ Hall, the heavy door shut behind you.

You took a full five seconds to breathe in the outside air- not just to expel the stuffy air you had taken in inside the Hall but also to will the conversation to leave you.

There wasn’t much that made you anxious but the husband subject could clear you from a room faster than smoke rose from a fire. It wasn’t like you had never had offers of marriage or caught the eye of a handsome man but the concept- the expectations and the duties that came with becoming someone’s wife- was just too much for you to seriously consider without getting nervous. Marriages weren’t just about the man you were marrying after all, there were children that you were expected to carry and birth and then raise; a lifetime given over to the role of motherhood which would likely never end.

You had the utmost respect for women that wanted to and were proud to be mothers but when it came to you being a mother- you seriously doubted your capacity to do so well enough, it was simply easier to not entertain the option.

Once you had regained your outward composure, you checked over the list.

Some of the more common ingredients like bantha tallow or baywood leaves were things you would find easily back in your own village- for a cheaper price too- so you mentally struck those from the list for now. You weren’t about to waste time looking for deals. You started for the city market hoping to find the strange ingredients quickly, side tracked only by the luring smells of a bakery to which your empty stomach bent to.

The air was kicked out of you when the first thing your eyes fell on in the market was a figure in mismatched armor. The sellsword. He was scanning a blacksmith’s stall, arms crossed over his chest and looking to converse with the smith intermittently. Even from the back of him you could tell it was the same man who left you in such a flustered mess that night. The sight of him alone stirred something inside you, a low burning feeling that threatened to catch in your throat with equal parts of passion and anger.

You doubted he’d see you amidst the rest of the population of market goers- and if he did he surely wouldn’t recognize you- so you didn’t care to try and avoid him, moving right past him to the stall that promised noxious herbs and smelly nerf produce.

However, once you raised your voice to ask the vendor for the powder, the sellsword’s head snapped in your direction. He had noticed you. You kept your head forward, trying to sell the fact that you were ignorant to his presence-- and you would have done a good job of that display had he not started to approach you.

—

Sorry it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger- I feel like I've been working on this update forever (even tho there's several parts of it I'm not happy with) and its just a mess honestly so rip, here it is!.

Taglist: @gingersnappe-9 @literallydontlook @lady-djarin

What Once Was Mine

Chapter One

Summary: Locked away in a house her entire life, she always dreamed of exploring the nearby kingdom for just a day, believing it could make the rest of her days in solitude bearable. What she was unware of, was the real reason she'd been hidden away for so long. Changes comes swift like a flying dagger when a thieving bounty hunter seeks solace in the old home.

Din Djarin Royalty!AU / Tangled!AU

Pairing: Din Djarin x Princess Kryze!Reader

A/n: Hello Lovelings!! Enjoy this half baked idea that popped into my head while reading a bunch of dark academia imagines... also let me know if you want to be tagged on future chapters!

Warnings: none

INTRODUCTION:

Mandalore, the great kingdom of warriors. Over the years it has harvested many secrets, many conspiracies, and several tragedies. What else would one expect from such a place, in which most citizens dedicate themselves to the eternal struggle of warfare. Perhaps the most tragic happening to ever occur to the over-worshipped and idolized land would be the disappearance of the baby princess Kryze.

So many stories were thought up by members of the royal family, as well as some palace residents, to try and somehow cover up their horrible mistake. Families don't just misplace children, most of all future heirs to the throne. What really happened was the most infuriating tale to tell, and though the king and queen didn't know it's truth, many others within their courts did, and they kept it a secret.

The baby had been discovered by one of the nurses to hold magical properties, that of which no one in Mandalore had ever been capable of. These powers were also not of the wise Elves that resided in the high mountainside. Whispers were passed around for several weeks until finally a decision was made. The baby could not be trusted to grow in this kingdom, royalty or not. That's how witches were created, witches that harmed many nations and brought down armies all on their own accord, with only a wave of their hands.

Nothing planned was ever mentioned to the royal family, nor was anything said about the child's abilities. In the middle of the night, the baby was taken. There were rumors about a witch on the far off stretches of the kingdom that went into hiding when her powers were found out. The stories were not true, the woman held no magical properties whatsoever, but when she was offered the child, she didn't hesitate in accepting.

The members of the castle staff felt what they were doing was the right thing for the entire kingdom. They were even obliged to do the honor of ridding themselves of that child, in fears that one day she could even kill them. Fear is the downfall of any soldier, any Mandalorian should know that.

For twelve years the great warriors set out to find the child, and after reaching the outsides of every kingdom and not finding any hope of the lost princess still being alive, the king and queen grew weary in their search, and eventually gave up, their hearts shattering. They died in early ages, and left the throne to their eldest daughter Satine. There was another daughter that was born from the king and queen, only a year after they had lost the baby they so dearly missed. They hoped and prayed that it might bring them some ease in the years of sorrow that followed, but it didn't, and now that they were gone, Bo Katan Kryze sat at the right hand of the throne to her sister.

Mandalore had many enemies, some within their own territory, and some even within the palace walls. Satine was a just ruler, and beloved by all, or at least most. The few that despised her ideals, and didn't want to give up their old and treacherous ways of life attacked the queen, and in the arms of her future consort, she died a heroic death.

Bo Katan did not want the throne of Mandalore, and when it came time to crown her the queen of the strong nation, she accepted a challenge for the reigning dark saber, the item that possessed real power and that who wielded it was the true ruler. The challenger of said saber, was Moff Gideon, King of the distant neighboring kingdom.

Bo Katan didn't even fight like she knew she could, for she was absolutely opposed to ruling the kingdom that killed her sister. After everything she did for them, they brought her down to death.

Moff Gideon would be the new king of Mandalore for years to come.

More time flew by like the silver crested birds that resided in the kingdom's trees. The baby princess had grown into a beautiful girl, happy and vibrant despite her isolation, and constant verbal abuse. The woman who took her in had raised her to believe that she was her birth mother, and that they had fled to this old mansion away from any kingdom to keep outsiders safe. She told the young girl that she had picked up her whole life and went into hiding just because of the powers her dear daughter possessed.

As a small girl, her powers grew, and she didn't know how to harness them, so when the mother told her it was best to stay inside, she believed it all. She believed that she was dangerous, and had the ability to kill people. It was an awful lie to spew to someone so innocent and trusting, but it was the only way to keep her from harming anyone outside. The truth was, her powers were fantastic, and the older she got, the more she could do. She even learned to heal injuries, and used that magic to save small animals that would try and come into the house. Mother had set traps all around the mansion, just incase anyone was stupid enough try try and enter. The traps harmed creatures big and small, but the princess never let them die. She was too kind for that. Too gentle.

When mother brought home a small creature, resembling that of a baby goblin, it was like years of solitude had finally been made easier. The baby was also blessed with magical powers, and due to a strong bond that connected them, a companionship formed. Almost that of a mother and son. He couldn't speak, it seemed he was far too young, but he was able to communicate through brain waves, and she could somehow feel his thoughts. His name was Grogu, and he was an outcast just like she was., cursed to stay away from all humanity.

It came to a point where she was unable to feel love towards her abilities, and just wished them away. She thought that if she could just give them up, she would no longer have to deal with her daily struggle of loneliness, and she could live the life she had read so many stories about. She wanted to be like the characters of her books so badly, to feel the freedoms they felt. She procured a special necklace, made by her own hands, in attempts to somehow trap her powers within it. She took so long to be able to do so, but when it was finally successful, she felt it was time to ask her mother a very important question. It was her eighteenth birthday tomorrow, and she wanted more than anything to go outside.

CHAPTER ONE:

"This is a very big day, Grogu," you paced back and forth by the window, waiting for your mother to enter the old home. "I'm finally going to do it, I'm going to ask her."

He babbled at the words, bringing a smile to your lips as you watched the way he played with his little clothing wrap in anticipation.

"And don't worry, if she says yes I'm sure you can come, too."

At the sound of crunching leaves below the open window, you spun around wildly, your dress flourishing with every small movement. Your bare feet raised and lowered your body with a slight bounce. The anxiousness was too much to bear.

The door closed, and you swept up Grogu in your arms, racing down the stairs and skipping every other step. It wasn't dangerous, you had done it every day without fail.

"Mother! I'm so happy you're back," You exclaimed with a broad, bright, and beautiful smile. She held her arms open in a show of beckoning you for a hug. She was always so theatrical with her displays of emotional affection, pushing them over the top to ensure you believed and felt every part of it. Truth be told you didn't know what real love was, aside from the strengthened relationship with Grogu that became deeper every day.

"My dear, it's been a long day. I'm sorry I took so long, but I seemed to have rolled my ankle going up the hill. Would you mind?" She asked in a sing song tone. It was nothing to you, because this happened every so often and there was never a doubt in your mind that she really needed your power. The innocence that still plagued the inner workings of your brain prevented you from seeing the woman liked to take advantage of the gifts you held.

"Of course, Mother," you helped her around the corner into the sitting room by the entry hall, and letting her relax back into one of the elaborate chairs. It was strange how she limped inside the house, but when you watched from afar, gazing out the open window she hadn't huddled her steps at all.

"I brought you more apples from the village, I know your little friend adores them," she said gesturing to Grogu who sat in the spot you placed him. He made some gurgling sounds of excitement before looking down to fiddle with his little green hands.

"Thank you, I'm sure they're wonderful."

You knelt before her, ever bit as submissive as a humble servant, pushing away her dress skirt to find her ankle. It wasn't swollen, nor did it seem to need any attention, but you strived to make her happy, especially on a day like today. The better her mood, the likelier for you to achieve your biggest dream tomorrow.

You tightened your hands around the small area and focused all your energy into healing that fraction of her body. You felt a bit of your own life force leave you when it passed through to her, and you squeezed your eyes shut to avoid the minimal sensation of dizziness for a few seconds. She let out a sigh of relief, then jumped up from her chair, gliding across the room to admire her appearance in the gold crested mirror that hung steadily on the wall since before you could remember.

"I feel so much better, dear," she held onto your arms, bringing you beside her before ruffing your intricately braided hair. She knew that you were not fond of the action, but you didn't show it this time, and she was nearly upset as to not have you riled up over it like usual.

She stepped passed you and went to perform the same action with Grogu, who was not needing to be on his best behavior. He acted up immediately, flailing his arms about to try and rid himself of her. She laughed maniacally, going back to her seat before riffling through the basket you'd woven her last summer.

"Mother, I was wondering if perhaps you remembered what tomorrow was?" This was the plan: present each point to her carefully, leading up to the grand question.... but it had to be done slowly, as to warm her up to the idea first.

"Darling, how could I forget your birthday?"

Right, so she remembered this year.

"I didn't mean that you would, I was just wondering if you'd thought of any gifts yet? If not, I have an idea that may suffice," you said, the smile on your face spreading as you heart picked up it's pace behind your chest.

"To be frank with you, I hadn't gotten anything prepared. I was going to try and find something for you when I left for the afternoon."

Perfect. You glanced back at Grogu, who was clearly listening in on the conversation as of now, for his features were focused straight ahead to where you both sat. He let his eyes drift between you and her a few times before you finally got the hint. That little creature was so much smarter than any of animal you'd come across in your life.

"I wish to go outside," you blurted out, the anxiety was too much as it bubbled up through your skin. You were surprised at yourself for your straight forward confession, and figured you might need to clarify. "Only for a day, to see the kingdom."

Her laughter was unexpected, and quite deflating. She saw your request as a joke, and it made you feel silly having even asked. You'd built up so much courage to say the words, and now they seemed foolish.

"You are quite the jester, dear," she stood, lifting her basket to leave and restock the kitchen with the apples she brought, but you couldn't give up so easily. If she was to say no, it would be after you presented all you had practiced. You reached out you hand to hold her in place and she turned back to face you with a smirk.

"I do not mean to be funny, mother. I really do wish to have a day in the kingdom. I have planned everything out if you would mind to hear?" You brought the small green stone out from under the corset hem of your dress, holding it in your hand to show her if she was willing to see.

"Dearest one, you know it is not safe for you to leave. You could hurt someone, or heavens forbid, they could hurt you," She came closer, her tone was seen as truthful and compassionate by you, but it was nothing but manipulative and demeaning. "It is selfish to think you can handle so much in just one day. What if you killed someone?"

"I have a way to control it now. This necklace-"

"The necklace that can hold all your power, yes darling, I've heard it before, but you cannot ever truly know if it will work," she looked down upon you with sympathy... no, not sympathy, pity.

"I know it will work, I've tested it over and again and it can finally help me control it," you practically begged and pleaded with your eyes for her to stay and listen, and not forget this interaction ever happened by choosing to leave the room and ignore it.

"You have never been outside of this house, what makes you possibly think you have any idea of what you are talking about? You may have tested it here every single day of your entire life, and still never know if it will work out there," her voice boomed louder this time, and it frustrated you to no end, knowing that this would all end in tears and distress. You hated fighting with her, because you knew no matter how hard you stood your ground, the walls eventually crumbled down and you would be the loosing party.

"I just want to know what it's like, for one day..." You pleaded with everything you had in you, but it seemed like that was the last straw for her.

"Enough with all of this nonsense! You are not leaving this house, ever!" Her screams startled the baby, and as tears came brimming the corners of your eyes, you ran to his rescue, scooping him up and cradling him to your chest. He nuzzled his head there, feeling safer now that he had the familiar warmth of your arms around him.

The tears that threatened to spill came pooling over like waterfalls, and when your mother saw them, she was completely and totally calm within a moment.

"Dear, you must know that I do this for your own good, and for the good of all the people in that village. Imagine the guilt you would feel if you let harm befall any of those citizens. And Imagine how much pain I would be in if they took you away. You would surely be burned alive if they found out what you can do," she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around both you and Grogu, trying to bring a false sense of comfort to the air.

"I'm sorry, mother," You let out, letting your head fall on her shoulder. You didn't have any other shoulder to cry on, so what was the harm?

"It's alright dear, I love you very much."

"I love you more," you said, and it was true. You loved her more than she could ever love you.

"I love you most."

The turrets of the castle were the first to be compromised. The job was easy; get in, capture the bounty, and get out. It would supposedly be even lees of a hassle due to the fact that this bounty was not a person, but an item, rather. The buyer, being from a far off land, across the sea. It was priceless to this kingdom's heritage, and if it was lost, then truly it would be the last string to pull before the great Mandalore fell apart.

The three bounty hunters for the job were the best in this realm and the next, with rewards hanging over all their heads. Few even knew their names, one of them didn't so much as have a face to put to a wanted poster. It was a mask and a hood that hung all over the kingdom's walls, trees, and even town buildings. His accomplices were better known, but still a bit hard to find. The only people who ever saw them in a daily setting were the hunters of the guild on the outside of Mandalore's ridge.

Today they faced no danger, or so they thought. Snatching the dark saber had been the simplest part of the plan, now to escape the guards, and the horse riders who would be catching up with them shortly.

"Xi'an, company on your left," the hooded figure spoke as they quickly made their getaway. The woman wasted no time in pulling a knife from her holster and slashing through the guard that was foolish enough to approach her.

"Your eyes never cease to amaze me, Djarin," the shorter man cried out as he wasted away another poor soldier. These men that the hunters took no time in killing were innocent lives, who's blood was shed by treachery. The only one who didn't kill a soul was the masked and hooded figure, Djarin.

"Maybe you're just getting old," He replied, leading them all to a gulch in the offset of the forest they entered. "Alright, I think we lost them, but be ready for anything. I heard them send for horses when we left the gates."

"It'll be just fine, Din. Relax," Xi'an said seductively, her hips swaying in front of the masked man as she went deeper into the woods. Her lilac colored hair made her stand out in a crowd, and though her teammates begged her to change it time and again, she refused, saying that she could handle some extra attention. She had harbored massive sexual tension towards the hooded bounty hunter, but it was clear he did not share her enthusiasm. He used to, but now it was too much. He liked to focus on his jobs more, and less on her, she couldn't become a distraction.

"We may need to head towards the guild. They can hide us there until we need to meet at the rendezvous point," the shorter man said. Ranzar Malk, an old soul, with the heart of a lion, ready to kill if given the chance. His friends called him Ran, but he had few friends, just accomplices.

"That's a bad idea. They know we have the most valuable weapon in the world, they won't leave any building in this kingdom unchecked," his deep voice made weary his partners, if you can really call them that.

"Are you proposing we skip town?" Xi'an came sauntering back towards the group, and as she did, they all turned at the wound of horses beginning to run out of the gates.

They all instictively began to run as fast as their legs could carry them. Din Djarim was a fast runner, and was quick with his wits and intellect. He was able to maneuver through the woods as if he'd been through them many times. A few times, sure, but you wouldn't have known it. Every step he made was that of a man who knew where he was going. The others had a harder time keeping up with him, and since he had no real attachment to them, he didn't mind if they fell back from him and to the hands of the Mandalorian guards. All he had to do was finish the job, and he'd get payed, no questions asked.

"Djarin!" Ran cried, and when Din turned to look over his shoulder, he saw that they had been cornered. They didn't know how to move quite as well as he did through the rugged areas, and now they payed for it.

"I will get you for this, you bastard," Xi'an's words were the last to ring in his ear. He knew they wouldn't stop until they got the sword of Mandalore. The rightful claim to the kingdom itself. If he could just get to the waterside, perhaps he could steal a small ship to get away with. The rendezvous was on the outskirts of town anyways, so it wouldn't make much of a difference if he had to sail around to get there.

He must have run for miles by now, and his lungs were burning. He no longer heard the galloping horse hooves behind his six, but the far all yelling in the distance was a reminder that he wasn't quite safe.

He ran further until he reached a dead end, where the only option was to drop down the steep mountainside. He wasn't one to stray from a challenge. His skilled steps helped him onto the cliffside, slowly makinf his way down to the base of it. He was sure by now he'd lost the guards, because after several minutes of climbing downwards, they never reached the cliffside.

The ground was covered in a thick layer of fog and mystery. He'd never been to this corner of the kingdom before, and doubted anyone else had either for that matter. He couldn't barely see where he was going, but as he kept stumbling about, the nidt became thinner and less prominent. He waved around his eyes a few times to make sure what he was seeing was real. An old house stood in the corner of the spacious grounds, hidden by even more trees and foliage.

The house on the outside looked dark and haunted, and he doubted anyone lived there for years. It meant it was the perfect hiding spot to lay low until things calmed down a bit in the kingdom. Then maybe he could sneak out and about to meet his client.

He trudged up the steps to the front door, opening it slowly with a creak in it's wake.

The interior of the house did not look old amd forgotten at all. Almost as if it had not sustained any damage that the exterior held. Everything seemed to be in working order, which he thanked heavens for, because his stay in this old home just became more enjoyable.

He stepped into a small sitting room, taking the saber out of the satchel it was confined to, before pulling the trigger like switch on the hilt. There came forth a blade unlike anything he'd ever seen, the dark metal with the interwoven lines of silver between each crevice. It was a miracle to behold in person.

"Alone at last," he mumbled under his breath before he caught the movement of something from the corner of his eyes. He turned around to see an open book on a chair, the pages weren't dusty and had no signs of age. In fact, he thought he couod recall the title of the book being released just two weeks ago by the famous author that resided within Mandalore.

He glanced up from the book, seeing a blown out candle, the smoke still emanating from the burnt wick. Some was here, and they knew he was, too.

Out of no where, an invisible force threw him backwards into the wall, making his vision go dark as he sunk down the boards and landed on his arse. The last thing he saw befoee everything went dark was the outline of a beautiful girl rushing towards him.

.

.

Tags are open, baes!!

☆ giving creators the love they deserve ☆

Just thought I’d show my support for all of the wonderful fic writers on here that share their lovely creations with us—for free. What you do is a joy to be a part of, and I want to say thank you for everything you contribute ❤️

Below the cut, there are “smut”, “fluff”, “angst”, and “series’ + series’ with au’s” recs, categorized so that you can find exactly what you’re looking for! Happy reading, everyone 🥰

(This is long and I actually hit the tag limit? So, I wasn’t able to include everything I wanted to 😭 but I will potentially make a 2nd part to this in the future!).

Disclaimer: if you’re a writer, and your work is not listed here, please know that there are thousands of fics out there and it’s simply impossible for me to add them all or even come close to that number—please don’t take this personally. Also, please do not take offense if one of your favourite works is not listed; this is unavoidable. I did my best to find as many as I could, as well as try to have a variety of different topics and tropes being portrayed. Some author’s are repeated and various works of theirs are potentially listed under sections. Enjoy! (These are also in no particular order).

Would You Let Me & You Were My New Dream (And You Were Mine) by @keeper0fthestars

Cuffs & The Soft Side by @honeymandos

Promise & Bliss by @auty-ren

You Deserve It by @catsnkooks

Thin Walls by @leo-moon

Hungry, Switch & Taste You by @hdlynnslibrary

Alleyways by @huliabitch

Taste So Good, Full Sabacc & Chaste by @tiffdawg

Kneel At My Alter by @filthybookworm

Magma by @oloreaa

Little Yellow Sundress by @aerynwrites

Good Vibrations, Golden Berries & Fire And Ice by @janghoefett

Hot Springs by @mandoalorian

All In by @buttercup--bee

So Pretty And So Good by @mandolovian

The Bet & Bred by @tibbietibbs

Release by @letterfromvienna

The Contract by @ollypopp

Haircuts & Interwoven by @hdlynnslibrary

The Way You Put That Smile Upon My Face by @keeper0fthestars

The Softness Among Stars by @honeymandos

Pick Up Lines & Cold Fingers by @oloreaa

Touch & Ice Cold by @aerynwrites

Tender Kiss by @buttercup--bee

Close Quarters by @reluctant-mandalore

Bedside Manner by @janghoefett

Heavenly Bodies & Strings Attached by @mndalorians

Blankets Over Barbed Wire + Evermore (part 2) by @mrpascals

No Living Thing by @hiscyarika

Trust Is A Fragile Thing & Reunited by @aerynwrites

Crossed Wires & Again, Again by @mndalorians

By Hand & Recrudescent (I’m Right Here) by @keeper0fthestars

Heavy by @hdlynnslibrary

The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight series by @space-cowboy-din

Just This Once series by @mcfreakin-bxtch

Vencuyanir series & the Orbit series by @oloreaa

Redamancy series by @mrpascals

The Offer series (Clan Leader!Din AU) & the Waiting Up series by @auty-ren

Sparks series by @maybege

Migraine series by @leo-moon

Dusty Trails series (Old West!AU) by @hdlynnslibrary

The Light of Stars series by @tiffdawg

Silent Planet, Cradled Hands series by @corvueros

Borrowed Time series by @mandoalorian

White Rose series (Knight!Din AU) by @aerynwrites

Unheavenly Creatures series (Clan Leader + Mand’alor!Din AU) by @huliabitch

Miscommunication series by @mouthymandalorian

Take Me to Church series (Western!AU) by @frannyzooey

Rule Maker, Rule Breaker series by @mandoinevarro

Peace series by @sunsetkenobi

Thank you to everyone who wears their heart on their sleeve and is kind enough to share all their fantastic pieces of work with everyone ❤️

Your impact and reach here is larger than you know. This fandom would be nothing without all of us, and you’re all so very important—no matter what anyone says.