X Reader Smut - Blog Posts

Sober Thoughts (Ushijima x Reader) (Partly NSFW)

(Contains a skippable NSFW scene)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Drunk and full of bad decisions, you decide to walk to Tendou’s apartment to wallow in hopelessness over your feelings for Ushijima. But wait… why is Tendou taller and bulkier than usual?

A/N: (Oh wow, um so this turned into a smut?? I honestly don’t know wtf happened) Umm, umm, umm. What. 600 followers?? How? When? Whyyyy? ASkfadshkf whatever, thank you guys so much for your support!! I’m just gonna grin ecstatically in my corner over here. No, I don’t look like a maniac, be quiet. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy this lil’ drunk confession oneshot to celebrate!

Warnings: SMUT!!!, cunnilingus, first-time squirting, & slight praise kink maybe??

Word count: 3636

        Tendou was a little taller than usual. And a little more… brown-haired. But you didn’t mind. You just needed to talk to someone.  

       You’ve loved Ushijima for years, ever since you first managed for his team in high school. He was so kind and sweet to you, always offering to help carry water bottles and encouraging you to be honest about the boys’ performance in a game. He loved to hear your insight, and you loved to hear his guttural voice ask for your insight. You stayed in contact ever since, all of you third years, and often went out on the weekends together. But your feelings for him eventually became too much.

       Tendou was the only one who knew how you felt, so you knew you could trust him with your drunk ramblings tonight. Seriously, you were hammered. Smashed. Absolutely shit-faced. Which explained why the wild redhead you had been friends with for a decade now looked so weird. And had a clone. Or three. 

       “YN?” Tendou opened the door to his apartment and looked down at you curiously. Did his voice get deeper too?

       “TENDOUUUUUU!” you screeched with drooping eyes. You held your arms open for a hug, but when he didn’t move a muscle you awkwardly slumped forward against his chest. “Hehe, have you been working out? You feel bigger than usual. Hehe.” Your voice held a drunken slur as you giggled into his shirt, poking the solid pec your forehead currently snuggled against. 

       “YN, it is almost one in the morning, try to lower your voice.” Ugh, he got stricter too. 

       “Jessussss, Tendouuuu, you sound like Wakajima now…” you trailed off, growing tired. He was really, really, really warm. 

       “‘Wakajima’? YN, I believe you are drunk. Shall I take you home?” You snorted at his chivalrous tone. 

       “No. You. Shall. Not,” you mumbled, poking his stomach with each word before stumbling past him and into his apartment. “Bingo,” you squinted when you spotted his sofa and trudged towards it, barely avoiding tripping over your own feet. 

       “DAMN HEELS!” You plop onto the leather furniture and hastily rip your five-inch heels off, sighing in relief as they release their satanic grip on your toes. “Ahhh, freedom.” You hiccup while throwing them in a forgotten corner of his living room, missing his lamp by just a hair. 

       “YN, please keep your voice down.” Tendou laments, trailing his bulkier form into his kitchen and grabbing a glass of water. 

       “Ohhh,” your eyes widen in surprise and tsk to yourself. “You’re right, you’re right, shhhhhhhh!” you loudly hush, throwing a finger against your lips while sagging back into his cold cushions. The TV is on, and you snatch the remote from under your dress-covered butt, giggling at the mishap while flicking through channels. 

       Tendou exhales slowly while lowering down to sit beside you, his heavier build causing the couch to dip and you to slip towards him. You allow gravity to take your head all the way to his thighs, chuckling when you land on his lap with a “flump.”

       “OH MY GOD, SESAME STREET?!” 

       “YN, please.” 

       “Right, sorry,” you nod before whisper-yelling, “Oh my God, Sesame Street!” You set the remote down on his coffee table and he places a glass of water and a bottle of pills alongside it. 

       “Aww, is that for me?” you coo, flipping your body so your back rests against the sofa and your head faces his chin. “You’re so sweet, Tendou!” 

       “YN, I’m not-”

       “Anyways,” you interrupt, kicking your bare against the slick arm of the sofa. The movement causes your little black dress to slink up your thighs just the tiniest bit, and Tendou clears his throat, desperately gluing his, hmm, dark green eyes (weird…) to your face. “I really want to talk to you about him.”

       “YN, I’m not-”

       “I know, I know,” you cut him off once again, crossing your arms against his chest. “You’ve been telling me to confess since high school, but I’m still scared!” With your nose scrunched up in frustration, you shake your head. Your hair must tickle his thighs below his basketball shorts, because he lets out a small snort that’s quickly disguised with a cough. 

       “Tendou, I just,” you purse your lips and avoid his burning gaze, “God, I like him so much. I think I might even love him.” Your voice still has a small slur, but your tone has grown serious. “He’s just… amazing. He makes me feel things I never have before, and I can’t get him out of my head at this point.”

       “Who?” Tendou asks, his recently-husky tone tinged with… sadness maybe?

       “Don’t be a jackass, Tendou,” you groan, jabbing him in the cheek as he peers down at you. “You know who.”

       “Remind me.” Even though he still has five or so twins, Tendou’s shape is slowly becoming clearer by the second. You can almost see a muscle twitching in his jaw. 

       “Wakatoshi.” Your cheeks burn, and you accidentally try to hide your face in his chest. You missed by a long shot.

       “YN!” he squeaks, turning your head back to face him while his ears tinge pink. Oopsies. Your face had almost turned to meet what was a few square inches south of his v-line. Wo-ah, guess who’s shirt lifted up?

       “Sorry, sorry!” you cry out, hiding your embarrassment behind your hands. Elmo chatters in the background about how to count to ten, which was the number of seconds it took for Tendou to respond. 

       “It’s um… it’s okay.” You can hear him gulp from your spot on his lap, and slowly uncover your face at his words. “So,” he continues hesitantly, “you like Wakatoshi?” He sounded so uncomfortable, but the mention of your crush makes your head start to swim again. 

       “Yes, I do!” Pressing your head harder into his bulky thighs, you sigh exasperatedly and fold your hands along your stomach. “What am I supposed to tell him, Tendou? It’s been years, I highly doubt he likes me back.” 

       “I’m sure he does.”

       “No he doesn’t,” you laugh bitterly. “Fuck! What do I do?”

       “Just tell him how you feel.” Tendou’s fingers start to comb through your hair, making your scalp itch every time he hits a tangle.

       “Ohh yeah, sureeee. Just go over to his apartment, knock on his door and scream, ‘I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU AND I HAVE BEEN EVER SINCE WE FIRST TALKED!’”

       “I’m sure he would like that.”

       “Pshh, sure, and then- hiccup!-and then tell him about how I can’t stop thinking about when he first touched my hand while helping me pick up the water bottles. And that time when I wrapped his finger after spiking too much. And that time when I accidentally hugged him after you guys won that game, and that… that other time… when you- hiccup!- guys lost to… that one team-” You pass out in his lap, your rant finally coming to an end as you give in to your foggy mind and aching body. 

                               ~~~

       “Ughhh.” 

       All you can do is groan. The lights out your window are so bright, and increase the burn of the already-present headache. Birds tweet melodically outside, just loud enough that you can hear it through the pounding in your brain. 

       God, what happened?

       The last thing you remember from last night is walking out of the club and down the street, then your memories abruptly cut off directly after. 

       Then you realize something. 

       THIS ISN’T MY BED!

       “Oh fuck,” you rasp, your throat still rubbed raw from the alcohol. Hesitantly, you try to feel under the sheets for your clothes, and sigh in relief when you find them still intact. The mattress you lay on is larger than your own at home, and it’s warmth begs to be reveled in for just a second, a minute, maybe an hour longer. But the fear that you’re in some stranger’s apartment reigns supreme, and you know you need to escape. Fast. 

       Scrambling out of the hefty sheets, you sniff the air instinctively while creeping over to the door. Is that… bacon? 

       Drool begins to gather in your mouth, and you creep through the cracked doorway to track down the heavenly scent. 

       Sizzles echo from down the hall, and you start to realize that the apartment appears familiar. Why am I at Wakatoshi’s? 

       Tip-toeing around the corner, you peer into the kitchen and drop your jaw at the sight. 

       Well hello there, back muscles.

       “Toshi?” you gulp, stepping onto the hardwood floor hesitantly. 

       “YN, you’re awake. I left a glass of water and some pills out for you.” He nods his head towards the kitchen counter, and you gratefully take a seat at a stool and down the pain-relievers in one gulp, choking down the cold water like a man stranded in a desert. 

       “Thanks,” you mumble, licking your lips while rubbing your temples to relieve the ache. “Hey, do you know why I’m here?”

       “Yes,” he chuckles deeply. His voice is still thick with sleep, causing a shiver to jolt down your spine. “You came here last night thinking I was Tendou.”

       You join him in giggling at the thought, shaking your head at your own stupidity. “Why in the world was I- OH FUCK!” 

       The memories clash all at once in your brain as events from last night hit you like a dump truck. “Oh my God!” you whisper, scandalized. Running a hand through your hair, you stare into Ushijima’s humored eyes while your own widen in horror. “Oh my God! You didn’t even care to tell me you weren’t Tendou?!”

       The intimidating volleyball player only hums in confirmation, setting down a plate of bacon in front of you before leaning his palms against the counter. You catch an eyeful of six pack and bite your lip at the sight, almost drawing blood when it flexes with a quiet laugh. 

       “No, but to be fair, you talked a lot last night,” he nods, throwing the kitchen cloth he had been using over his shoulder while eyeing you up and down. 

       “Could- umm, could you put a shirt on before we discuss this?” The temptation to stare is calling out your name, and you try so desperately to remember that it’s the inside that matters, YN!

       All muscles are actually interior, though, right? So you’re technically fine!

       “I think we should talk about it now, YN.” His face grows darker as he watches you swallow nervously. The seriousness in his tone leaves you to snatch up a strip of bacon and hastily chew on it.

       “Do we have to?” you ask with a mouthful of food. “Because I think if we gave it a little time, we would both forget it ever happened.” You nod self-assuredly and shrug at the proposition, but go rigid when Ushijima leans his face closer to yours. 

       “I don’t want to forget. I want to remember that forever, and I want you to tell me that you meant it.”

       “...I was just drunkenly rambling-”

       “Don’t lie to me, YN.” He snags your hand just as it reaches for its fifth bacon strip. “Tell me honestly, and you can decide where to go from there. Did. You. Mean. It.” Ushijima has only ever looked serious during volleyball. That’s just the kind of person he was. But right now was different, in a whole new, wonderful way. Because right now he’s watching you like you could place the sun in the sky. Like you could change the tides and shift the wind. 

       “Yes.” You clench your eyes shut and draw in on yourself, clammy hands trembling against the marble counter. “I’ve been in love with you ever since high school, Toshi.” 

       For a solid minute, you sit tensely and the only audible sound in the room is his hitched breaths. Then rough fingertips trace against your cheek, begging you to open your eyes as another hand encompasses yours on the kitchen surface. Ushijima’s eyes, so dark, so endless, are swirling rivers of olive green, tainted with the occasional black speck as he stares lovingly into your gaze. His sharp jaw clenches, his thin, pink lips press together and his brow furrows into a hardened line as he watches you, and you wait with baited breath for his reaction.

       “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words.” His fingers tilt up your jaw so your lips can meet his perfectly. He’s surprisingly gentle as he caresses your cheeks, your chin, your jaw. Everything. He’s so careful with you as his fingers intertwine with your own. You can feel the years of hard practice on his hands, but he handles you like a china doll. Like you would break, if he pressed too harshly, but also that you would slip away if he lessened his hold in the slightest. 

       You release a soft moan against his lips, and his chest rumbles in return as he makes his way around the counter, not separating from you for even a second. 

       Everything is slow and unhurried, from when he picks you up bridal style to when he places you down against his mattress, pressing your hips into the sheets to keep you from slipping away. A strong knee settles between your thighs, trailing closer and closer to where you need him most. 

                               *SMUT AHEAD*

       A mewl tears its way out of your throat at the feeling of him rubbing against your warmth, holding you in place as you writhe from the feeling. It’s too much so suddenly, but it’s also not enough, and you need more.

       “More,” you whimper against his lips, “I need more, Toshi.”

       “Patience, princess.” His husky whisper sends sparks down to the center of your stomach and heat gathers in your core. You clench your thighs tightly around his thigh at the feeling and he smiles against your lips. One of his hands slips under your back, unzipping your dress while the other glides down to the inside of your thigh, petting the sensitive skin and leaving your core throbbing. 

       “Hng, Toshi,” you whine desperately. He attempts to slide the tight dress off you, but you’ve grown too hot and bothered. A loud “rip” sounds through the air along with a grunt under Ushijima’s breath. Your little black dress is tossed to the side, but your mind is too hazy to care, or rather to notice. You had no need for a bra with the dress, and Ushijima curses quietly at the discovery. 

       “Fuck, princess, you went out like this?” His pupils flare at the sight of your bare chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to run the pads of his thumbs over your peaked nipples. You gnaw on your lip, trying to stay silent to not disturb his neighbors, but the ace towering over you doesn’t seem to appreciate that idea. One hand slides down your stomach, past your navel and snaps your panties against your skin while the other massages the swell of your breast. 

       “Aah, Toshi!” A slight quirk of his lips tells you he’s enjoying every move you make, and every sound you have to offer him. Your hands snap up to his hair, yanking him down into a deep kiss that implies just how much you need him. His teeth clash against yours and his tongue fights you for dominance, sharing and giving each other tastes as his hand slips into your soaked panties. 

       “God, princess, you’re so wet already. So good for me.” He smiles into the kiss before separating and pecking the tender skin of your chin and throat. A long finger glides over your slick folds for just a second, leaving you breathless and shivering in his hold. Your hands tug his brown tufts tighter when he repeats the motion, gathering your wetness and dragging it up to your aching bud, just barely brushing it. 

       “What do you want?” he whispers, biting your neck while he hovers his touch over where you desperately crave him. 

       “You,” you choke out, swallowing dryly while trying to catch your breath. 

       “Be more specific, princess. What do you want me to do?” A bruise is formed from where he nibbles just below your ear, and the sting of its formation causes your eyes to roll back into your head. Two fingertips harshly tweak your nipple, leaving you to cry out.

       “Oh God, touch me Toshi! Please touch me!” 

       “Of course, love.” His hand leaves your breast and skims your body all the way down to under your thigh, pulling it away from his knee and pressing it against the bed to open you to his sight. The other presses against your dripping sex, leaving his thumb to rub quick circles around your clit. Your body jolts and twitches from the stimulation while you scream out his name. 

       “Toshi!” 

       He nods encouragingly against your neck, urging you on while your nails dig into his shoulder blades. At last, his head moves lower and lower down your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your chest and against your belly button before he slides your ruined panties down your quivering legs, instantly placing himself between your thighs as soon as they are tossed and forgotten over his shoulder. Your reach isn’t long enough, so you settle for dipping your fingers into his scalp once more, scratching and tugging at every movement his thumb makes against your swollen bud. 

       Cool breaths blow against your womanhood, causing it to clench desperately around nothing. Both his hands move for a split second to draw your legs up and over his shoulders, leaving you to cross your ankles against his back while his face dips closer to your core. 

       “Toshi, please!”

       “So needy, princess,” he rumbles with a smirk, “but don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you. I’ll be the only one who touches you this way from now on.” His eyes flicker up and watch yours, swirling with desire and longing before he plunges a finger deep inside your soaked heat. The abrupt ability to clench around something leaves you crying out in relief.

       “Oh fuck, oh God yes!” 

       His lips wrap around your bud, sucking and running his tongue over it in deliciously quick intervals. Every switch is accompanied with a stronger thrust of his finger, and he adds another before curling them up against the spot deep inside of you that has you gushing more against his chin. You can no longer think straight, and the only word falling from your lips is his name at this point. 

       “Toshi! Toshi!” 

       The moans spur him on, and his fingers thrust even faster inside you, hitting your g-spot every time with a spontaneous precision that you can only thank his years of perfect spike-aiming for. Suddenly, just as his teeth nip your clit causing your whole body to twitch and scream, his fingers leave your clenching core and both his arms wrap around your trembling thighs, peeling you even more open to him. His nose digs into your clit as his tongue laps at your glistening folds like a man starved. You can’t breathe, you can barely speak as the pleasure coils tightly in your chest, choking you up in your throat. 

       “Yes, Toshi!” you sputter out, not ever wanting him to stop. “Harder! Oh fuck!” His hands dig brutally into your hips, holding you in place to prevent you from bucking against his face. The inevitable bruises are long forgotten when he groans at your taste. The vibration leaves you squealing just as his muscle delves into your aching sex. After his nose accidentally presses into your pulsing nub just a tad too harshly, the coil snaps. 

       “Toshi!” you scream, clenching your eyes closed as your whole body wracks in pleasure. Muscles in your legs flutter and tremble as you release with jumbled nonsense streaming from between your lips. Ushijima grunts in surprise at your sudden orgasm, and pulls back with burning eyes at your twitching form. 

       “Damn, princess, I didn’t know you could squirt.” His raspy words cause your eyes to rip open and you hastily get up on your elbows to see what he was talking about. 

       “Oh my God!” you whine in embarrassment, observing your wetness as it drenched his chin and bare chest. Droplets fell from his chin and dribbled into divots of his six pack while he watched you wolfishly. “I didn’t know I could do that! I’m so sorry!”

       You drop your head back to the bed behind you and cover your flushed face with embarrassment. Every muscle in your body ached from the position it was previously held in, and you screech in surprise and scramble away from a sudden brush against your overstimulated clit. You watch in shock as Ushijima’s mouth forms an abnormal lopsided grin. He observes the wetness he had collected on his index finger with darkened eyes.

       “God, I love you,” he mutters, his ravenous gaze suddenly flickering up to yours as he kneels onto the bed, slowly making his way towards you. His hands trail up from your ankles to your calves to the undersides of your knees while he encourages them apart once more, no matter how tightly you press them together. 

       “Let me make you do it again.”

Praiseworthy (Bokuto x Reader) (NSFW)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After winning his volleyball game, Bokuto comes over wanting to celebrate. The both of you sure know how to throw a thrilling two-person party. 

A/N: (I literally listened to “Crazy in Love Remix” the whole time I wrote this, so it gets a little serious and steamy. I ain’t sorry.) I’m definitely going to hell for this…. Oh well. I wrote this to celebrate getting 100 followers, so thank you so much! This is my first NSFW however, so please don’t raise it to any high standards. Anyways, here’s Bokuto with a praise kink. Enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT!!!, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,  praise kink

Word count: 2659

        You were at home working on an essay for your class and moping about missing your boyfriend’s volleyball game when you got his texts.

Owl-baby: WE WON OUR GAMEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Owl-baby: I’m coming over to get my reward ;)

       Smiling widely at the news, you shook your head at his antics. His reward usually consisted of movies and tight cuddles while he excitedly told you all about the game you shamefully missed. You looked forward to nights like those just as much as he did, but you were usually less vocal about it. Nonetheless, you were thankful your parents were out visiting relatives for the whole weekend, and began to prepare the living room for the inevitable snuggle session with Bokuto. Movie, check. Popcorn, check. Blankets, check. Boyfriend… the doorbell rang just as you picked up your phone to text him. A light, happy feeling flowed through your chest as you answered the door. As per usual, you choked out a breath after being tackled in a tight hug, but you never minded. 

       “Did you get my message?! We won, YN, we’re going to Nationals!” He was shaking with excitement and squeezed your sides as a result, making you jerk in his arms before laughing. 

       “Yes, of course I heard, Kou. I’m so proud of you.” You smiled softly while pulling away, holding his cheeks in your palms and rubbing them gently with your thumbs. Bokuto bit his lip at the action and placed his hands over your own, leaning in for a slow, deep kiss which you gladly returned. When he broke away, his golden orbs were abnormally dark and his pupils dilated after making eye contact with you. For an instant, his hands gripped yours harder before his eyes glanced back down at your lips, licking his own instinctively.

       “Tell me again,” he mumbled, cheeks growing red at his own words. His voice, however, was strong and didn’t waver once while he watched you intensely.

       “What?” you asked confusedly. You weren’t quite sure what he was getting at.

       “Tell me how good I did. Please.” You faltered at his request and sucked in a short breath at the implication. Running your fingers down his neck and back into his hair ever so slowly, you leaned your head in closer to his ear. 

       “You did so good, baby. So, so good.” His breaths were labored as you tugged on the strands between your fingers. His own hands, which had fallen down to your hips, were bruising at this point. Suddenly, he crashed his lips against yours once more and slammed you back against the wall in your home’s entryway. The pictures on the wall shook with the force, but you were too distracted to care. Even the movie playing in the background faded away as Bokuto’s tongue asked for entrance into your mouth. You let him in easily, fighting for dominance while occasionally separating for a breath. Every time you two rejoined, your teeth clashed from the battle, but it was too heated for you to notice. His hands slid down to your thighs and tugged on them encouragingly, a signal for you to jump. You listened to the orders and hooked your feet together behind his back. He carried you to your room blindly but surprisingly well, lips never breaking for a second. 

       His strong hands clutched your ass while you kept your own grip in his hair, keeping his head angled up at you for easy access. Bokuto backed up into your bedroom and kicked the door shut, the slam not concerning either of you. Pulling away, you both gasped for air with puffy lips and rosy cheeks while your boyfriend navigated his way to your bed. Slowly lowering you down, you fell back gently onto the soft blankets, tugging his face to join you. He smirked, running his thumb along your lower lip to spread the stray drop of saliva that had been located there before obeying your wish, his tongue reentering your mouth. His hands left your ass to slide up your shirt, caressing your sides tenderly. You, on the other hand, hooked your fingers into his pants’ belt loops and drew him in, grinding harshly against the hard tent in his pants. 

       “Oh fuck,” he groaned breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours while he returned the favor, sticking to the pace you had set while his fingertips tweaked your nipples through your bra. The touch shot a wave of pleasure straight down to your heat, and your thighs tightened around his hips instinctively at the sensation. Your whimpers were loud and shameless as you ground into him, ignoring the gushing crawling its way down your thighs. Bokuto looked back into your eyes and silently asked to undress you. You nodded in approval with heavily lidded eyes, lifting your arms to help him in the deed, and you did the same for him, throwing away the devilish shirt before tracing your fingertips in the grooves of his abs. 

       “Ah!” You let out a cry of surprise when the golden-eyed man tore your bra away from your chest, ripping the fabric in the process as he tossed it forgettably behind him. On any other day, you would have scolded him. Today, however, there was no time. You needed him. You didn’t even mind when his eyes hungrily stared at your chest before he pounced, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth and harshly sucking. When you had first gotten together, your hands had instantly reacted, covering your breasts shyly while you avoided eye contact. He had to gently coax your hands away while constantly reminding you that you were gorgeous. Now, you learned your lesson. Bokuto thought you were beautiful and he wanted you. And there was no stopping him when he wanted something. Even the second time he had seen you bare while you tried to hide, he jumped on you too quickly. Every time he got you naked, he was always somewhere on your skin. Touching, stroking, caressing, biting. Bokuto used everything he had when he was with you. Teeth, hands, even his thighs were often used to hold you down while you trembled under his will. 

       “Oh shit,” you moaned breathlessly. His mouth was leaving a display of hickeys all over the span of your chest, and one of his hands had slid under your arched back to press you closer to him and keep you still as you squirmed. Your lungs were begging for air as you gasped at the feeling of Bokuto’s lips, hands tugging his hair harshly. While you were distracted, his other hand traced a hot trail down the middle of your body, sliding past your belly button and slipping into your thin panties. Huh, that’s weird, my pants are gone. You had been too caught up that you hadn’t even noticed the only barriers now separating you and your boyfriend were his boxers and your barely-there undergarments. 

       “Damn, baby, is that lace?” He uttered hotly while glancing up at you from your freshly marked chest. Hesitantly, you nodded in response and he groaned, abruptly burying a finger deep inside you. You mewl loudly, moving your hands down to dig your nails into his shoulders, leaving marks you wouldn’t mind seeing in the morning. Your head falls back, pressing harshly into the mattress while Bokuto begins to rub furious, fast-paced circles onto your clit. “You treat me so well, sweetheart,” he groans, his other hand squeezing your hip to keep you firmly in place as you shiver from pleasure. 

       “Ah fuck!” you whine desperately. “Keep going, you’re doing so good.” The encouragement causes him to whimper while he digs another finger inside you, thrusting in and out too quickly for you to comprehend. The waves of pleasure are wracking through your body like never before, and you yelp when your boyfriend suddenly presses his thumb brutally against your clit, making your whole body convulse. At last, it becomes too much and you shakily warn him, “I’m gonna come.” 

       “Come for me, baby.” His words trigger an abundance of arousal, and immediately your juices flow out around his fingers as the bubble finally bursts inside your chest. Your moans are almost pornographic at this point, but you can’t help it. He feels too good. Bokuto watches your display with glimmering, ravenous eyes, and swiftly hops off the bed, removing his boxers in a split second before tugging your soaked panties down your legs and tossing them away. You’re still trying to catch your breath when he mounts on top of you, sliding his hips once more between your thighs like it’s where they’re meant to be. You don’t mind that thought, basking in the idea before it flies away along with the rest of your thoughts as Bokuto returns a finger back to your heat, gathering some remains from the inside of your thighs and popping it inside his mouth, giving it a small taste. 

       His reaction makes you burn crimson as he moans. “Goddamn baby.” He looks into your eyes and starts to hover over you, grabbing both of your wrists and trapping them directly above your head with one hand while the other positions his throbbing erection at your entrance. “The only one who gets to taste you is me,” he informs you possessively, golden orbs glowing at the thought. 

       You smile tenderly at him and agree. “Of course baby, you’re so good for me. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Your praise causes him to puff out his chest and smirk, and you wiggle your hips to remind him of the original plan. He takes the hint and abruptly thrusts into you in one swift motion. Your whole body jolts at the movement and you moan in surprise. Bokuto releases your hands and grabs both of your hips tightly, plunging into you swiftly. The feeling of him rapidly reaching deeper and harder inside of you, raking along your walls harshly causes your toes to curl. He hits that oh-so wonderful spot deep inside of you, and your jaw drops in pure euphoria at the feeling. His groans match yours in volume, and you absolutely adore that about him. Taking advantage of your free hands, you raise them up to his intensely focused face, caressing his cheek softly while moaning aloud. 

       His golden eyes burst open and he leans his head into your touch, his thrusts slowing slightly. You rub your thumbs back and forth across the apples of his cheeks while cooing, “You feel so good, Kou, don’t ever stop.” The reaction from him is instant. Already prepared, you dig your fingernails into his back and drag them down while hanging on for dear life as he pumps into you harder than before. The stinging from his back combined with your tightness causes him to bury his face into your neck, biting down in pleasure as his thrusts quicken even more. You whimper at his teeth, crying out and grabbing his biceps for stability as the mattress squeaks, the noise reverberating around the room and mixing lewdly with the sounds of pleasure. He peels your hands away, pressing them into the sheets above your head before intertwining his fingers with your own. His erratic pace begins to lose its steady rhythm as he grunts out your name deeply, gripping your palms harder. 

       Watching your face from above, he relishes in the sight of your open mouth and darkened eyes, not hesitating to combine your lips before he mumbles against them, “You’re so tight baby, I’m gonna come.” His hands grasp yours tightly and you squeeze them back in return.

       “Me too, Kou. Ah! Just like that, don’t stop!” His thrusts speed up in response, and the coil that had been slowly winding up deep within you is becoming unbearably compressed. Finally, it breaks, and you clench around him tightly while you release, overflowing just as before while your legs shudder uncontrollably. Bokuto groans at your tightness and releases as well, collapsing right on top of you. You let out a huff of air at the sudden drop, and giggle softly while running your hands through his sweaty, black and white hair. Your tired boyfriend’s breathing is labored, but still more controlled and calm than your own as you both bask in the afterglow you’ve created. Stupid volleyball stamina. As if he heard your thoughts, Bokuto perks back up, heaving himself back up on his hands and knees over you and peering deep into your eyes pleadingly. 

       “One more round?” he bargains, his hands running up and down your thighs, every time drawing closer to your sore, abused opening. He wants to keep going?! You shake your head and open your mouth to refuse, only to mewl and whimper when he begins to rub your overstimulated clit. He was harshly riding the fine line between pain and pleasure, but that wasn’t new with Bokuto. Suddenly, your mind goes foggy when he begins to stroke up and down along your core, enticing high-pitched whines out of you. He smiles brightly when your hands reach up and grip his shoulders in preparation for what was to come next. 

       Maybe just one more round won’t hurt.

                               ^^^

       So that was a fucking lie.

       When you woke up the next morning trapped in Bokuto’s tight grasp, your whole body howled in pain. Your fingers, your back, your legs. Hell, even your toes were sore. But that didn’t distract you at all from the amount of pressure in your bladder. I have to pee, I have to pee, I have to pee. You kept repeating that to yourself while you attempted to squirm out of your boyfriend’s death grip, only to panic and groan at the feeling of his arms tightening around your waist. His movements didn’t help your situation at all. Startled by the overwhelming fear that you might just not make it to the bathroom, you begin to writhe around like a fish out of water in his arms. At last, Bokuto whines from behind you, releasing an exhausted yawn. 

       “Why are you trying to leave?” He drops a muscular thigh over your hips, effectively putting a halt to your wriggling as well as more firmly trapping you to the mattress. You scoff humorously at the action before twisting in his grip to look at his face. 

       Patting his cheek, you sulkily explain, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

       “Do you have to?” His arms tighten.

       “Yes!” you exclaim exasperatedly. He opens his arms and you smile gratefully before turning and sitting up, setting your feet on the floor. However, just as you stand up, your knees give in and collapse directly under you, causing you to face plant on the floor with a yelp.

       “Oh shit, YN! Are you okay?!” Bokuto rapidly crawls his way over to you from his side of the bed, peering down at you on the floor.

       “Oh yeah, just peachy,” you sass back, muffled by a mouthful of carpet. Your arms burn as you try to lift yourself up. You settle for rolling over like a beached whale and shyly make eye contact with your boyfriend. “Umm, can you help me for a sec, babe?” 

       “Oh, of course!” He scrambles off the mattress and lifts you into his arms, carrying you into the bathroom bridal-style and setting you down on the sink. Ever so slowly, you hop off and stand on two trembling legs like a newborn giraffe, hanging onto the porcelain for dear life while your boyfriend watches with an amused expression. 

       “That good, huh?” he asks cheekily, waggling his eyebrows at you. You don’t hesitate to slam the door in his face, your cheeks on fire. He wasn’t wrong, though. It was totally worth it. 

age gap😃? NOTHING CRAZY, CHILL, but yk, like,,, just a little young thing in her 20s or sumn being scooped up by one (or two🤭) of these older, more mature, aged like fine wine, and experienced men,,, that's all🥰.

I am thirsting so hard for remy after watching the movie… with this I can just imagine a young yet powerful mutant coming to the void and she never got the experience in sex in her timeline. So remy takes it upon himself to teach her the ways of the bedroom… first time may have involved a mistake with her powers when she cums for the first time but he’s so understandable and says like “you need to practice your control mon cherie” so he just dives back in for more (he makes her cum like 5-7 times from head alone cause he makes his woman feel amazing I bet) this is so long sorry hope you like this 😅🩷

𝐇𝐅𝐉𝐒𝐊𝐂𝐈𝐉𝐆𝐊𝐆𝐏𝐋𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐊𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐈𝐈𝐅𝐊𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐆 !!!!!

first of all,,, never apologize for length, especially to me who makes everything way longer than need be, we (I, it's just me, idk who "we" is lol) love and appreciate that shit over here. ppl who love absurdly long fics, requests, and other media unite✊🏽 !!!

second of all,,, *ugly sobbing* I'm always the writer and never (how does one actually say this properly🤔?) the writee, so for someone to have actually dropped this for me in my inbox is SO flattering and sweet and ughghfhf, you guys, I HIGHLY encourage more of this, I love it, I truly do.

third of all,,, THIS IS SO GOOD omg literally giggling and kicking my feet (I do that a lot on this app) !!! I am the same way, I saw gambit and just... idk what happened to me, something in my organic chemistry just altered forever and while I'm not and will probably never be a channing tatum girly, he did his goddamn JOB in that role, ATE IT TF UP👏🏽 (and I knew he would, it's about damn time like c'mon, he'd been promised the role for idk a decade or so like, again I say, about damn time) so while I might not be all over tatum, I am all over his portrayal of remy lebeau and I need more fics/content NEOOOWW😾 (plz😽) from y'all's little writer brains of yours.

anyways, onto what you've sent in specifically lmao, you said "young yet powerful mutant" and "mistake with her powers" and "...practice your control..." and for whatever reason, my brain conjured up a mutant reader with wings or just a power that involves maybe floating/telekinesis...😃✋🏽hear me out...

so, remy's getting busy, right, and he's making reader feel so good and, like you mentioned, she ain't got much control over her powers yet cuz she's younger than him, so she cvms and boom, her wings (whether they be feathered or fairy) just pop out without her realizing😻. or with telekinesis, the better she's feeling/closer she's getting, the more stuff/higher she's causing things around them to float because again, little and/or loss of control because he's making her feel that good (we all know he's got the tongue work of a god, I mean, just listen to the man speak for fuck's sake lmao🥴).

I think it'd definitely be a cute touch and fs something she'd get teased about from remy lmao.

breaking simon into calling you mommy.

no fucking way, princess. he laughs and shakes his head like you just told him the funniest joke on Earth. no chance, never.

simon can't even believe you would ask him such a thing. him call you mommy? have you gone mad? why in the world would he ever do that? simon had a hard enough time submitting to you as is. now you throw this into play? you must want him to tie you up and show you who runs shit around here. (it's you.)

c'mon, babyyy. you lament, leaning in and letting your dark brown nipples rub against his. up and down, still wet from simon sucking on them earlier. just one time, c'mon. say it.

simon was coming up on his third nut in the last thirty minutes, and he was starting to lose himself. your hips were moving the same pace they were when you started, maybe faster since your pussy was creaming like a faucet. no, no..im not gonna-- fuck me.. not gonna say it.

he's not. nothing can crack that wall down. he won't. his mind is made up. you clench around him in retaliation, but the tightness adds to his overstimulating pleasure and makes him drop his hands to the sheets, gripping them with a force that would have stopped you in your tracks, must be why he moved.

fuck, mm-mommy. it comes out completely unplanned, unrecognized and unintentionally. simon can't look you in the eye, just gripping your hips again and watching you grind back and forth just a bit.

what's that, si? he shakes his head, closing his eyes and throwing his his head against the headboard. simon bites his lip and whimpers, simon riley, the 6 foot 200 something pound tank of a man whimpers at the feeling of your pussy gripping him.

mommy. i said-- i called you mommy. he reiterates, moving you up and down on his cock and watching it like it would disappear if he looked away. fuck you. fucking hate you-- fuck! simon's cum started spurting up into you and he was seeing white. his balls felt like they were cramping, tightening and releasing too quickly, too harshly, he swears for a second he's gonna pass out.

before you can quip, his fingers are wrapped around your throat and squeezing. not a word. he damn near whines. he's trying to sound all manly and deep voiced, you can tell, but his voice nearly cracked at how tight you are around him, and how fucking sensitive he is. not a fucking word, i swear.

maybe not now, but this will definitely be brought back up (especially when he starts to get a thing for fucking you while you're knocked up.)

SUN AND WATER; SO INTIMATE.

dad'sbestfriend! james mcavoy x brown!fem!reader

🍯 hunni pot — oh. my. god. for context i was speaking to a friend recently about split (2016) and she tried to convince me it wasn't real because she'd never heard of it and she's a movie junkie.. long story short we rewatched it and i don't remember james mcavoy being THAT hot?? like i remember him being hot but damn. anyways enjoy my rambling as i freak out over dilfs on the main. im back hoes. reader is like early 20s and james is his age and divorced

hot summer days were the best thing for you. the sun warming you and giving you dark tan lines that highlighted you stretch marks that little bit more. looking through your aptly packed suitcase, you huffed at the idea of not being able to buy a new bikini. granted, you were only here for two weeks of your summer break, and you did have four in total, but you could never have too many, right? you settled on your blue two-piece, throwing a tank top and a baby skirt over it just to prevent your ass from being completely out as you walked down to the waterfall/lake a little ways from the summer house.

you decided to tan before getting in the water, the peaceful current giving you the perfect opportunity to relax and lay around. laying on your towel under the beating sun, you slid you bottoms down over the dips in your hips, a little crack show for the birds and bees.

maybe ten minutes go by, and you turn over to face the sky. sitting here baking with a blunt would be amazing, and you make a mental note to roll one next time you come down here. slipping your top down a little, then a lot, then just taking it off and letting it all hang out was a wise decision, the sun shining on your bare dark nipples and a tickle moving it's way in between your thighs as you reel in the feeling. another ten-ish minutes and you're dozing, barely keeping your eyes open as you listen to the water flow just a few feet from you. you stop trying after a bit, rolling into the sensuality of sleeping half-naked with nature.

until you feel a shirt laying over your midriff.

and feel mr. james trying to shake you awake. fuuuuck.

his eyes are (reasonably) diverted from you. james couldn't help but feel like a perverted high schooler, awkwardly kneeling so his best friends daughter didn't have to see the far too obvious boner she was giving him right now. james had kids of his own, he'd seen nipples and pantylines before, so why did he feel so.. different?

as you woke up and hoped to God Almighty that that the Earth would just swallow you while right there, mr. james gave you that we don't have to talk about it look that he'd given you many times. you just nodded as he turned away, flicking his belt and removing his shorts to reveal his trunks. it could've been your hazy brain. it could've been the angle since you were still tying your top. it could've been the lighting of the Sun, for God's sake, but you swear that mr. james' trunks were outlining his cock, the fabric tightening around his thighs. but you didn't have time to see it because he quickly plunged into the water, using his big arms to move himself under the waterfall, cascading down his hair and chest. (im a dirty pervert. omg that gif is going to the wank bank)

you sat on a smooth rock, right in the middle of the lazy lake. it was low, allowing the water to kiss your feet and the Sun to rub your back. watching as mr. james blatantly circled you, like an animal. he came to a stop in front of you, just watching you before speaking. "it's a cute top, y'know. dunno why you'd wanna ditch it." he shrugs, laughing as your attempt at splashing him ended with you nearly falling off the rock and him being no more wet than he already was.

you two got out after a bit, talking about life and how school was going and whatever could come to mind. mr. james's eyes never left you once, meanwhile you were avoiding his eyes like the plague. too busy watching his chiseled stomach flex every time he laughs, or shifts, or just fucking sits there.

"m'eyes are up here, lassie. what's with the pervin'?" he asks, lifting your chin with two fingers. you open your mouth, but words are failing you and by God you can't speak your mind. what would he think of you?

"i wanna fuck you."

oh.

"oh?" shit. what the fuck is wrong with you?

the answer to that question would have to wait for another time, because mr. james wasted no time scooting closer to you on the towel, lifting you up over his lap and lettin you sink down on his swim trunks, the cold fabric making you roll your hips. james could only grunt, resting his hand on your ass to push you a bit more forward, his hard-on twitching right against your clit.

"who've thought you as such a fuggin minx.." he groans, his lips connecting with yours twice, then a third time before you could feel his fingers slipping past your bottoms, groaning into your mouth as he feels your pussy for the first time. no matter how many times he'd dreamed about this, rubbed his cock to the idea of pleasuring you, he couldn't have dreamed this up in a hundred fucking years. but God, was he loving it.

slipping his cock out from his shorts, he watched as you let your manicured hand slip around him. james couldn't believe his fucking eyes, if he hadn't waited so long for this, he'd have cum just by the look in your eyes. sinking down, you rest your hands on his chest, feeling his trembling breath. you don't even have to tell him how much you love it, your pussy does all the work for you. the wet noises that start to come out of you spare no expense at letting james know what a good job he's doing at fucking you from below.

mr. james, ohhhfuuck.. you could barely contain yourself, he was fucking you with something to prove. the plap! plap! noise against the water falling in the background was heaven.

"drop that mr., darling. you know we aren't being very-- ugh, fuck me.. formal right now." he chuckles, continuing to fuck up into you while adding his fingers in the mix, rubbing your clit in deliberate, wet circles. cumming, oh fuck..!

and cumming you were. the Sun was beaming on your face, you were being fucked like a whore in the most intimate setting in all the Earth, and you were cumming, hard. james pants as he fucks you through your orgasm, letting you go limp on his shoulder. "wet as the water you are, darling." he chuckles, reeling in the way you clench around his cock completely involuntarily. a beat goes by as he rests his hands on your waist.

"you've ever been skinny dipping?" it was going to be a looooong night.

im so obsessed with BMF rn so i made this concept fic.. should i write it and if so for who? i was thinking chan but i wanna lean away from skz after big barbie is done. anyways ya lmk

hello, can u make nsfw headcanons for sub!makoto naegi x male reader plisss

A/N: Absolutely! I can do that :}

Melt for Me

Sub!Makoto Naegi x Male!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, Explicit sexual content, Dominance/Submission Dynamics, Praise Kink, Physical Restraints, Orgasm Control/Denial, Overstimulation

Word Count: 645

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- Makoto is a naturally obedient mess: It doesn’t even take (Y/N) raising his voice. A firm look, a subtle command, or even a hand at the back of his neck is enough to have Makoto nodding, face burning, ready to do whatever he's told.

- He craves praise like oxygen: (Y/N) quickly picks up on it- a murmured "good boy" in his ear will have Makoto melting, his knees buckling, his face hiding against (Y/N)'s chest to escape how much he's blushing.

- Makoto has the softest whimpers when (Y/N) pulls his hair: Not rough enough to hurt, but firm enough to guide his head wherever (Y/N) wants it. It makes Makoto shiver- it always leaves him pliant and needy.

- (Y/N) loves the way Makoto fidgets when he’s being teased: Biting his lip, shifting his weight, fists clenching at his sides like he's fighting the urge to beg out loud. Sometimes, (Y/N) will order him to "keep still," just to watch him tremble from the effort.

- Makoto secretly loves being marked: (Y/N) trailing his teeth along his neck, leaving faint bruises hidden under his clothes? It makes Makoto feel claimed. It’s both humiliating and addictive.

- Punishments are almost worse because Makoto likes them: If he slips up- talking back, hesitating too long, or being bratty- (Y/N) makes him kneel, hands behind his back, eyes low. And Makoto aches to be forgiven.

- Makoto is so easy to overwhelm with dirty talk: A few low-spoken threats or promises from (Y/N) and he's a shaking, panting mess, barely able to function. (Y/N) teases him by whispering filth in his ear during normal activities, just to see him choke on his words.

- Makoto is absolutely weak for being pinned: Whether it's pressed up against a wall, pinned to a bed, or trapped on (Y/N)’s lap with no escape, it gets Makoto dizzy and breathless fast. (Y/N) loves using his strength to manhandle him a little, especially when Makoto squirms just to be caught again.

- Overstimulation Games: (Y/N) loves to tie Makoto’s wrists above his head, blindfold him, and just… take his time. Feather-light touches, whispered threats, teasing and denying him until Makoto’s begging- voice cracking- promising he’ll be "so good" if (Y/N) just lets him finish.

- "On Your Knees": Makoto reacts instantly when (Y/N) uses that tone. Doesn’t matter if they’re home, in a hallway, anywhere. His legs give out almost automatically, pupils blown wide, waiting for permission to move any further.

- (Y/N) trains Makoto to ask for what he wants: No more shy hints or hopeful glances- Makoto has to say it, clearly and properly. "Please, touch me." "Please, can I come?" And every time he does, (Y/N) rewards him devastatingly well. No vague whining- full sentences, clear language, desperate voice. "Please, I need you. I need you so bad, I'll do anything, please just-" (Y/N) watches, arms crossed, making him work for every reward.

- Orgasm Control: (Y/N) sometimes forbids Makoto from finishing until he says he can. Makoto's thighs tremble, his whole body tight with the effort to obey. The first time he accidentally came without permission, the punishment was so slow and deliciously cruel that Makoto apologized for days.

- Despite all the heat and dominance, there's a tenderness underneath it: Makoto knows, with unshakable certainty, that (Y/N) treasures him- every trembling, obedient part of him. Makoto gets pulled into (Y/N)'s lap, wrapped up tight, praised sweetly until he’s hiccuping little sobs of gratitude against his chest. - Aftercare Overload: No matter how rough (Y/N) gets, after it’s over, Makoto is tucked into bed, hair stroked, soft kisses pressed against every sore spot. (Y/N) whispers praises into his hair, calling him beautiful, perfect, precious- until Makoto falls asleep blissed out and safe.

Ty for writing him like this I just know he gives soft dom energy💖👄💖

observation (18+)

soft dom! viktor x fem! reader

the ambitious zaunite has seen many things in his lifetime. though, he still (and undoubtedly) believes you are one of the most ethereal beings to have graced his sights, but especially so when you have your mouth stuffed full.

nsfw, oral fixation, boot humping, voyerism, sub reader

“you are much more docile like this.”

a muffled whine rips through the quiet atmosphere of the room as the inventors fingers press down on the back of your tongue; near the entrance of your throat. saliva pools around his fingers and he watches with keen interest at how your tongue flexes, and writhes under the offending appendages.

“close,” the man states simply, biting back a soft smile at how you immediately obey, lips wrapping around his knuckles.

from his seating position in the cushioned chair, he believes this sight may have been his own personal slice of heaven.

you’re currently poised prettily on your knees between his spread legs; head tilted up and eyes locked on his- back straighten to perfection at his approval. one hand rests by your lap on the floor while the other grips around a part his intricate leg brace.

viktor’s not a lover who yearns at depriving you of touch. punishments like such are rare (there typically never being a need for them). if anything he encourages your wandering hands to roam.

he is a man of science after all- observing is what he does best. he wishes to witness you for what you really are- your thoughts, opinions, reactions.

and that’s exactly how you ended up in this predicament.

his gaze remains unwavering at the slight gag he pulls from you. fingers brushing once more against the back of your throat after he’s satisfied with his determination of just how much you can take.

“you are doing so well.”

the natural purr his accented voice seems to carry is like melted honey to your ears. its velvety timbre vibrates through your body all the way down to your core. slick beginning to soak through the middle of your underwear.

your thighs clench and unclench in some sort of desperate attempt of relieving yourself of this ache- a move that doesn’t go unnoticed by viktor.

a subtle, sly smile graces his features as he watches you unashamedly tuck your free hand between your legs and under your clothing. saliva begins to drip down your chin as you moan around his fingers, tongue working tirelessly as your fingers press against your needy clit.

“pl..ease!” you cry out, eyes finally fluttering shut. your legs press tightly together to provide some sort of friction as you rub your swollen bud- a finger just barely pressing into your entrance.

he huffs out a quiet laugh, amusement written over his face. “open your eyes, zayka,” he murmurs lowly as his thumb on his free hand reaches out to trace over your bottom lip, mesmerized at the strand of saliva that keeps you two strung together as he pulls it away.

you listen well and your eyes fly open at the feeling of something hard pushed up against the back of your hand currently pressed against your cunt.

viktor had adjusted his good leg to where his foot was placed now between your spread thighs. the metal working of the tip of his boot caught the low lights in the room causing it to practically sparkle.

he didn’t push you to stop your ministrations, nor did he remove his fingers from your sopping mouth. he merely looked down at you, cheeks flushed a rosy pink and hazel eyes that shone in sensuality, and allure.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted.

you’re quick to pull your hand away from your needy pussy and press yourself down onto the worn leather. your hips are in touch with your want and immediately begin to roll themselves. back and forth, up and down. your clit catches deliciously on the cool metal which warrants a gurgled moan from your now parted lips.

viktor tilts his head with a gentle look, as if he found this whole situation endearing.

your arousal began to seep onto the man’s boot, the slip allowing you to glide more effortlessly. both your hands reach out to take ahold of viktor’s leg and use it as leverage as your desperation rose.

a hand intertwined with yours atop his knee as tensions began to heighten- coils beginning to tighten in your lower abdomen.

“don’t fight it,” viktor whispers, his words almost syrupy. “just let it happen.”

it’s when his fingers finally exit your mouth and go to cradle the back of your head- ever so slightly tugging it back to look at your glistening, desirous expression- does that rope finally snap within you.

your orgasm doesn’t wash over you. it comes crashing down.

it take’s a few shushes and gentle murmurs to bring you down from that stagnant high. your clit, raw and sensitive, urges you to pull away from all stimulation, but instead you sag, nearly bonelessly, against viktor as he presses whispers of kisses into your sweaty hairline, continuing to caress your hair back in a loving manner.

“such a good, willing girl you are.”

Chapter 4

Pairing - General Armitage Hux x Reader

*Set prior to The Force Awakens*

Summary -

Forged in blood. Bound by duty. Broken by desire.

(Y/n) (L/n) is a deadly Umbral of the Covenant - an elite order of vampires sworn to the First Order. Her assignment: serve as General Hux's personal guard. But as buried secrets surface and a rogue vampire faction rises, (Y/n) is forced to confront a past she can't outrun - and feelings she was never meant to have.

In a war of blood, betrayal, and duty, the deadliest threat may be the one that lies still in her chest.

Series contains - Blood, violence, battles/war, betrayal/angst, eventual smut, slow burn

The door hissed closed behind her, sealing out the clinical brightness of the corridor. Dim, ambient lighting filled the compact but private space assigned to her. An austere First Order officer’s quarters, modified slightly to accommodate a Covenant elite.

Her boots hit the floor with a dull thud once pulled off, followed by the slow release of her harness. Piece by piece, she shed the image of a soldier, her black Umbral uniform folded neatly over the ottoman at the foot of her bed. Only then did she stretch - shoulders rolling, spine cracking softly - as if the weight of the day had settled deeper into her bones than she let anyone see.

With a huff, she crossed to the small wall-mounted refrigeration unit in the kitchenette and retrieved a sealed blood pack, marked with the Covenant’s insignia. Twisting the cap open, she drank from it without ceremony. The crimson liquid was cool and iron-rich, satiating her hunger with clinical precision, but not without the flicker of ancient instinct.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back against the counter, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as the day’s events caught up with her. 

It had been a few days since they first suspected the Resistance was harboring a rogue Covenant faction. Herself and Varo had visited each other that night to discuss the issue and grieve over the betrayal that their own kind committed. After all they had been through, going against their own species was an option they never thought would be on the table. 

Steam began to cloud from the refresher as she turned on the shower. Her reflection caught in the darkened mirror. Unnaturally pale skin, the shimmering yet pale gold of her eyes, and the ever-present weight behind her gaze. Not tired, not weak. Guarded.

She stepped into the shower. The water was searing hot, meant more to cleanse her mind than her body. The sound drowned out the hum of the ship. For once, she allowed herself to just feel. The rippling heat against her normally cold skin, a foreign feeling to her rhythmless heart. The steam curled through her hair, head tilted back as she let the water run over her face.

When she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, she looked strangely younger. Not in appearance, but in silence. The storm behind her eyes had calmed, if only for a moment.

She slipped into a set of issued black sleepwear and sat on the edge of her bed, datapad in hand. Her eyes scanned the text with machine-like precision. Reports, updates, combat performance logs. But as she scrolled, her gaze slowed on one item. A personnel file.

General Hux, Armitage

“Armitage?” She mumbled to herself curiously. Her finger hovered over the file, hesitating. 

She tapped it open.

It wasn’t invasive. Just basic service records. Public to internal ranks. Dates. Promotions. Assignments. 

At least, that’s what she told herself. 

But she lingered longer than necessary. Not for intelligence. Something else.

Her thumb hesitated before swiping the screen away and powering off the datapad.

For a brief moment, she sat in silence, staring at nothing. No orders. No commands. No expectations. Just a woman forged into something sharp. Sitting alone in the dark, still searching for the pieces that made her whole.

The lights dimmed further at her mental prompt.

She lay back on the bed. No armor. No duty. No one watching.

Just (Y/n). 

The hum of the Finalizer’s systems faded into the background. Lying in the quiet dark, (Y/n)’s eyes finally drifted shut.

The great courtyard of the Covenant’s inner sanctum was bathed in the violet hue of the twin moons. Tall, obsidian spires reached up around the ceremonial space where graduates were gathering, fresh from their final trials.

(Y/n) stood near the edge of the crowd. Lean, composed, her black cloak still streaked with ash from the Gauntlet. Beside her stood her closest friend. They had trained together, bled together, whispered their plans under moonlight while the others slept.

Her friend’s smile was tight. Her golden eyes flickered. Not with pride, but with something hollow. Something new.

“Umbral Academy,” she said, as if the words tasted bitter. “You and Varo. Chosen.”

(Y/n) furrowed her brow. “You forgot yourself, Zera. The High Lords -”

“Are finished with their selections for the remainder of the year.” Zera’s voice cracked, a tremble buried beneath her control. “I wasn’t one of them.”

(Y/n) blinked. “What? That’s… No, that’s a mistake. We’ll appeal -”

“No. You’ll go. Without me.” Zera stepped back, her jaw clenched, her voice sharp now with jealousy. “You always had their eyes on you. You and Varo. I was just the shadow in your wake, made to look worse so you could look better.”

“Zera, that’s not true -” (Y/n) moved forward, confused, reaching for her arm.

But Zera recoiled. Her expression was carved from stone now, guarded and venomous. “They said I lacked the instinct. The control. That I wouldn’t survive a night in the academy.”

“I didn’t know,” (Y/n) murmured. “I didn’t want this without you, we’ve talked about this for -”

“Four years!” Zera interrupted, eyes flashing with something darker now. Other Duskborns began to watch the pair of them as it escalated. “Four years, and you’re just leaving like it meant nothing to you! You were the only good thing I ever had, (Y/n)!”

(Y/n) went to speak, but Varo cut in. 

“It’s not her choice, it’s the Covenant’s.” He defended firmly. 

“Quiet, Drenn!” She snapped, turning back to (Y/n). “After everything we said about not leaving each other. About being there through everything, no matter the cost!” Zera looked between the two of them before she took a step back. “Forget it.” She spat with venom before turning to leave. 

(Y/n) took a step after her, then froze. Something in the air shifted. Too quickly, what they thought was unbreakable, had already been severed.

Varo was silent for a moment. Watching. He met (Y/n)’s eyes and gave a faint shake of his head.

“We can’t help her. She needs to figure this out herself.” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders with a solemn expression. 

And (Y/n) knew, deep down, he was right.

(Y/n) sat bolt upright, the memory like a blade to the ribs. Her breathing was unsteady, but her eyes… distant. Haunted.

She didn’t weep. She hadn’t in years. But that scar, deep and invisible, throbbed like a fresh wound.

Zera.

The name echoed like a whisper in the back of her mind.

Still in the dark, (Y/n) turned to the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. 

The sharp rhythm of boots echoed through the corridor. Varo walked at (Y/n)’s side, his stride easy, relaxed despite the rigid order of the Finalizer’s halls. His head tilted slightly towards her.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” he said casually, “I’m pretty sure the Wraith Commander gave you the better assignment just because he was afraid of you.”

(Y/n) raised a brow, her voice cool. “ Him? Afraid?” 

“Well, you did break that instructor’s arm during blade training.” Varo gave a mock shiver. 

“He told me to stop holding back.”

“You shattered his elbow.” He deadpanned.

“His stance was weak.”

Varo grinned, tilting his head. “Remind me never to spar with you again. I quite like my bones in one piece.”

“They’ll heal.” (Y/n) didn’t smile, but the corner of her mouth twitched, just enough to show she wasn’t entirely made of steel.

“Well regardless,” Varo continued, “you get to shadow the general. Meanwhile, I’m stuck listening to Phasma bark orders at people half her size.”

“She’s efficient,” (Y/n) said, with a faintly amused glance. “And terrifying.”

“Exactly. I admire her… From a safe distance.”

They turned a corner, passing by a few stormtroopers who gave a wide berth to the two Umbrals. One even hesitated before saluting, a twitch of nervousness as their cloaks swept past.

Varo dropped his voice slightly, leaning a bit towards (Y/n). “But admit it. Watching people fumble around Hux while trying to impress him is a little entertaining.”

(Y/n) didn’t respond right away. Then, quietly, she murmured, “He sees through it. That’s what makes it worse for them.” She smirked. 

Varo laughed under his breath. “Stars, you’re getting soft. Next thing I know, you’ll be complimenting his hair.”

(Y/n) gave him a sideways glance. “It’s always perfectly parted. Not much to critique.”

“Maker help us,” Varo grinned.

(Y/n) shook her head with a faint exhale. “I hope you know that during this conversation I’ve been deciding whether to stab you or ignore you.”

“Either way,” he said with a chuckle, “at least I’d die knowing I made you smile.”

They reached the final corridor leading to the bridge. Their banter faded slightly, replaced with the calm professionalism both had been trained to resume in operational zones.

(Y/n) and Varo stepped in side by side, their long, dark cloaks catching the sterile light.

Varo leaned slightly towards her one last time. “Try not to glare too hard. Some of the crew still think you drink souls.”

(Y/n) smirked without looking at him. “Only on weekends.”

He snorted and gave her a casual nod before veering off to the left. “Captain Phasma’s waiting. Try not to miss me.”

As Varo disappeared into the far side of the bridge, (Y/n)’s eyes scanned the command walkway and there, just ahead, stood General Hux.

Clad in his sharp uniform, he was facing the forward viewport, the glint of the stars outside casting a cold sheen on his fiery hair. He didn’t look up immediately, but he was already aware of her arrival after hearing her familiar voice. A sound he found himself growing more accustomed to, and maybe even favor.

She approached with fluid precision, stopping just beside him.

“General Hux,” she said clearly, but her voice gave off a friendlier introduction than usual.

He glanced up, his expression unreadable but unmistakably aware. His gaze swept her form. 

“Umbral (L/n),” he acknowledged. “You’re punctual.”

“I was assigned to your command. Punctuality is expected.” She poked with a knowing look.

A moment passed between them. Not tense, but taut with subtle energy. Unspoken understanding, and the awareness of watchful eyes on the bridge.

Then, as he turned, she fell into step beside him, unobtrusive but unquestionably present.

As they walked, several officers along the command stations subtly glanced their way, some with the flicker of uncertainty in their expressions before Hux stopped at one of the terminals to look over a new report.

(Y/n)’s eyes remained alert, her senses sweeping the room. She could feel the tension. The curiosity. The fear.

Good.

Hux glanced sidelong at her. “They’ll get used to it. Eventually.”

“I’d prefer it if they didn’t,” (Y/n) replied, her voice low enough for only him to hear.

His lips twitched, just barely. “Likewise.”

The quiet buzz of the bridge was momentarily disrupted as Captain Voss entered from the far side, his footsteps deliberate and heavy. He stood a few paces away from (Y/n) and General Hux, pausing for a brief moment before speaking.

“General,” Voss greeted, his voice as sharp and professional as ever, but with a particular emphasis on the word General, as if reminding everyone of their roles. His eyes flicked briefly to (Y/n), who remained standing stoically beside Hux.

Hux didn’t immediately respond as he was watching the report flicker across the terminal, his eyes scanning the data. “Captain.”

Voss stepped closer, his boots echoing with each step, a tablet in his hand. “Updates from the fleet, sir,” he said, still careful to avoid directly acknowledging (Y/n), but it was impossible to ignore the slight narrowing of his eyes as they briefly met hers. “I trust the Umbral has settled in… comfortably by now?”

The words weren’t directly insulting, but the bite behind them was unmistakable. (Y/n)’s gaze didn’t falter. She simply stared, a perfect mask of professionalism. She wouldn’t let him get under her skin. Not here, not now.

However, Varo, who had been standing nearby and quietly observing the exchange, didn’t miss the undertone. His brow furrowed slightly as he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in irritation. The thought of intervening crossed his mind, but before he could open his mouth, Hux spoke first, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

“Captain Voss,” Hux said coolly. “I would appreciate it if you would refrain from insinuating things that are neither relevant nor professional in the presence of my personal guard.”

Varo froze for a split second, surprised by the quickness of the response. He could feel the shift in the air as Hux’s sharp tone pierced through the murmur of the bridge. Voss blinked, momentarily taken aback. “My apologies, sir. I wasn’t aware I was offending,” Voss replied, his tone now more clipped, but his eyes still glinting with that same passive-aggressive edge.

“Umbral (L/n) is not to be the subject of your personal musings, do I make myself clear?”

Varo smirked, standing just behind the captain, sensing the rare moment of discomfort in Voss. Voss stilled, his hand gripping the tablet tighter.

“Yes, sir,” he responded stiffly, the forced politeness thick in his voice.

The silence lingered for a moment before Hux finally shifted his attention back to the captain, the brief interruption passing as if it never happened.

“What have you found?” Hux asked, gesturing to the tablet in Voss’s hand.

For a second, Voss opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he simply nodded and began to speak about the fleet’s movements. His words lost a bit of their earlier venom, though the flicker of resentment never fully disappeared. It was clear that he was no longer willing to test Hux’s patience at that moment.

(Y/n) didn’t react outwardly, her face remained a perfect mask. But inside, she allowed herself a fleeting moment of satisfaction, and dare she say appreciation. Hux had handled the situation with precise authority, making sure to put Voss back in his place.

Varo, however, couldn’t resist a small chuckle as he leaned in a bit closer to (Y/n). “Didn’t think the General had it in him,” he muttered for only her to hear, his grin amused but still holding a touch of concern.

(Y/n) didn’t look at him, but she did respond quietly. “Neither did I.” Her eyes looked over the general’s face as he spoke with Voss, unaware of how she found herself admiring him. The shadow of his cheek bones, the movement of his eyes and curve of his nose -

“Time and place, (L/n).” Varo teased, breaking her out of her stare and elbowing him sharply in the ribs making him huff with a chuckle. 

The silence in the room lingered after Captain Voss’s departure. His passive-aggressive remarks had left a slight chill in the air, but the tension began to dissipate as personnel moved back to their stations after eavesdropping, giving the trio a moment of quiet.

(Y/n)’s eyes flicked between Hux, who was absorbed in the tablet given to him, and Varo, who appeared to be in his usual playful mood despite the recent exchange. Varo, never one to leave a tense moment without attempting to lighten it, glanced at (Y/n) and gave her a knowing smirk.

“Well, that went well, don’t you think?”

(Y/n)’s lips twitched into a barely perceptible smirk, but she didn’t say anything. At least, not until Varo continued.

“I mean, you did have that whole ‘silent rage’ thing going on - very intimidating. I’d be scared to cross you.”

(Y/n) glanced sideways at Varo, her eyebrow raising slightly, but she couldn’t hide the hint of amusement in her gaze. “If you keep making jokes like that, Varo, I might actually consider crossing you .”

Varo’s grin widened, and he threw a quick, playful glance toward Hux, who hadn’t looked up from the tablet. With a calculated, dramatic pause, Varo leaned closer to (Y/n), lowering his voice to a whisper.

“I’m just saying, if you did, we’d probably have to drag you away from him before Hux starts thinking you two are too close.” Another jab in his side. 

The quip made (Y/n)’s eyes narrow, but she held back a quiet chuckle. Hux, who had been focusing intently on the report, suddenly glanced up, a sharp, cutting gaze landing on both of them.

Hux spoke dryly. “If you two are quite finished, I suggest you save the idle chatter for later.”

Varo, ever the opportunist, turned to Hux with feigned seriousness.

“Of course, General. Just keeping the morale up.” He glanced sideways at (Y/n), his expression turning faux-pensive. “It’s hard, you know? Being the only source of entertainment.”

Hux stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression on his face before his gaze switched to (Y/n) who had the faintest smirk. Figuring that the Umbrals had slight leeway given their status, the general decided to humor him.

“You’d be surprised how little your ‘entertainment’ is needed, Drenn.” He paused in hesitation. “But if it helps you two get through the day, I suppose I can allow it on occasion.”

Varo grinned and gave a half-bow, completely unfazed by the general’s dry retort. (Y/n), watching this back-and-forth, finally allowed herself a brief chuckle, one that she quickly masked with a more stoic expression, but Hux had already caught it and he looked at her longer than necessary in masked amusement. The lightness between the three of them was palpable.

Just as the tension was beginning to ease, the door to the bridge opened and a soft chime echoed through the room, signaling an incoming message.

“ General Hux, the Grand Master requires your presence in the War Room immediately. ”

The playful atmosphere that Varo had tried to create faded slightly as the business of the day returned, but there was still a slight, lingering warmth to the moment.

“I suppose we’ll have to continue this conversation later, Umbral Drenn. You can make your jokes when I’m not in the middle of a meeting, though I’m sure I’d be ‘thrilled’ by your input.”

Varo shot him a mock, two-fingered salute, a teasing grin still in place.

“I’ll try to contain my enthusiasm, General. Wouldn’t want to distract you from the really important stuff, right?” He shot (Y/n) a quick, conspiratorial glance, the joke hanging between them.

“Keep it down, will you?” (Y/n) pressed. 

“The two of you together are insufferable. Let’s go, (L/n).” Hux urged. 

With that, the two left the bridge, making their way towards the door to the War Room and entering. 

The War Room was dimly lit, its walls lined with shifting holo-maps and live feeds from the far reaches of First Order space. A single long table dominated the room, displaying an active projection of disputed sectors and blinking alerts. Hux stood at the head of the table, his posture rigid as always. 

(Y/n) stood to his right and the general noticed her take a soothing deep breath uncharacteristically. 

“Nervous?” He questioned her. She glanced at him. 

“The Grand Master is the Covenant’s equivalent to the Supreme Leader. The highest elder of our kind.” Her head turned to look at Hux. “I would be.”

The air shifted slightly as the holo-communicator pulsed and activated, forming the image of the Grand Master of the Covenant. Draped in ceremonial black and crimson, his eyes were sharp beneath the weight of age and authority. The halo of his mantle flickered faintly, feeding off the shadows like it hungered.

“General Hux. Umbral (L/n).” He nodded in acknowledgement. His tone was unreadable, neither warm nor hostile.

Hux spoke. “Grand Master. Thank you for joining us.”

“The matter warranted it. You have reports of a Resistance-aligned unit employing techniques unnatural for mortals. I cannot tolerate such rumors under my careful watch for the sake of my kind.”

A pause.

“I assume this is not an exaggeration of your kind’s military incompetence.”

The general didn’t flinch. He was used to the Covenant’s thinly veiled disdain.

“You are correct to assume, Grand Master. These attacks are not the doing of amateurs. We’ve faced Resistance operatives on countless occasions. This is different.”

(Y/n)’s eyes narrowed slightly, lips pressing into a firm line. She stepped forward, speaking for the first time. 

“They strike in the dark, Grand Master. With coordination and precision that suggests training. Covenant training with attempted Umbral elements. These are not mere recruits or fledglings.”

The Grand Master tilted his head, his expression sharpening as if considering her worthiness to speak.

“And you believe them to be… rogues?”

“With the knowledge of my training and what I’ve assessed, I don’t know what else they could be.”

“You presume treason. A bold accusation. Especially from one so newly graduated.”

Hux’s voice cut in, calm but authoritative.

“We have firsthand knowledge of Covenant methods from Umbrals (L/n) and Drenn, and my own of the First Order. We’ve reviewed the evidence together. The similarities are unmistakable.”

Another pause. The Grand Master’s eyes moved from Hux back to (Y/n). 

“If what you suggest is true, then this would be an unsanctioned breach of the Blood Accord. The punishment for such betrayal is execution.”

He stepped back slightly in his projection. Behind him, the faint silhouettes of the High Lords flickered into view, standing in silent consensus.

“You are authorized, Umbral (L/n), to investigate this matter further with the support of the First Order. Should your findings confirm the presence of a rogue Covenant faction…”

A beat.

“You will have the full authority of the Covenant to eliminate them. All of them.”

A flicker of darkness passed over (Y/n)’s face. Determination, resolve and dread entwined. She gave a silent nod.

“As you command. Thank you, Grand Master.” She bowed her head with a hand crossed over onto her heart. 

“You are not alone in this. I also grant Umbral Drenn operational liberty. I suspect the two of you will perform well, given your history. The Council expects discretion… but finality.”

The Grand Master’s gaze locked once more with (Y/n)’s, this time more direct. It was personal.

“They took their oath, Umbral. They chose exile. They chose treason. And we will provide no mercy for such actions. Show them the price of turning their fangs on their own. Honor in Loyalty, Umbral.”

“Strength in Silence, Grand Master.”

With a flicker, the projection faded, and the War Room fell into silence.

Hux didn’t move for a moment, the two of them digesting the gravity of what had just transpired. Then, without looking at (Y/n), he spoke. 

“Well. That settles the question of what we do next.”

(Y/n) stood quietly beside him and he finally looked at her with the smallest hint of concern. Her gaze was downcast as she was frozen and he caught a familiar emotion in her gaze. 

Betrayal. 

Chapter 1

Pairing - General Armitage Hux x Reader

*Set prior to The Force Awakens*

Summary -

Forged in blood. Bound by duty. Broken by desire.

(Y/n) (L/n) is a deadly Umbral of the Covenant - an elite order of vampires sworn to the First Order. Her assignment: serve as General Hux's personal guard. But as buried secrets surface and a rogue vampire faction rises, (Y/n) is forced to confront a past she can't outrun - and feelings she was never meant to have.

In a war of blood, betrayal, and duty, the deadliest threat may be the one that lies still in her chest.

Series contains - Blood, violence, battles/war, betrayal/angst, eventual smut, slow burn

The torches lining the Grand Hall flickered, casting elongated shadows against the obsidian walls. The air was thick with the scent of smoldering incense, a tradition as ancient as the Covenant itself. At the center of the chamber, six figures stood rigidly in a line, cloaked in the dark, combat-hardened suits of the Umbral. Their faces remained impassive, their postures drilled to perfection. They were not just soldiers. They were the executioners of the Covenant’s will.

At the head of the hall, a raised dais loomed, adorned with banners of crimson and black. One bore the emblem of the Covenant, the other of the First Order. And standing just behind the Altar of Ascension, watching with calculating interest, was General Hux.

His uniform was pristine, his gloved hands tucked behind himself. Unlike the other High Lord elders draped in ceremonial robes or Covenant Duskborns standing at attention, he was an outsider. A reminder of the alliance between the Covenant and the First Order, a bond forged from necessity rather than trust.

Standing at the altar, the Wraith Commander of the academy spoke, his voice like steel scraping against stone.

“You stand here today as the few who have survived.” His gaze swept over the graduates, lingering on each of them. “Of the many who entered, you are the only ones who endured. The trials have burned away weakness, stripped you of fear, and reforged you into something greater.”

One woman remained motionless as the commander’s piercing gaze settled on her. She could still feel the phantom aches of the trials. The grueling endurance tests, the relentless combat drills, the nights spent standing motionless under the open sky, waiting for an attack that could come at any moment. The academy had demanded everything from them. And they had given it.

One by one, their names were called. Each stepped forward to receive the insignia of the Umbral, a symbol of their rank and purpose. When the woman’s name was spoken, she moved with perfect precision to stand before both the altar and the commander to have the insignia fastened onto the top left of her chest. It was heavier than she expected. Not in weight, but in meaning.

Once it was securely fastened, her gaze briefly flickered to General Hux. He studied her with a carefully measured expression, his sharp eyes betraying nothing.

As the Umbrals stood back in line, the commander gave them a single nod and stepped away from the altar. The Umbrals then synchronously pulled out one of their daggers harnessed to their thighs and - in accordance with the Covenant’s oldest tradition - dragged the blade across their palm. enough to draw blood but not enough to drip. As they all looked up at the Covenant’s emblem, they put away their blades with their arms back at their sides. Their expressions were overcome with fierce determination before they all spoke. 

“In darkness, I was forged. In blood, I am bound.” The Umbrals felt the palms of their hands begin to heal and close up. “ In shadow, I rise.” 

The audience watched intently as their voices spoke with an intense unnamed emotion. The memories of their history settled in their hearts as the Umbrals continued. 

“I am the blade unseen, the wrath unyielding. My will is iron, my duty eternal. I forsake the light, for it is not my path. I swear my loyalty to the Covenant, to my kin, to the Order that raised me from the ashes of the weak. My blade is theirs to command. I will not falter. I will not fail. I am an Umbral, and an Umbral does not kneel.”

As they finished their oath, there was a moment of silence before the hall erupted in a resounding chorus of acknowledgement, their success etched into the annals of the Covenant’s legacy.

But before the new Umbrals could disperse, the Wraith Commander stepped forward.

“Duty awaits, Umbrals.” His voice echoed with finality. “Your placements have been decided.”

A datapad was produced, and the assignments were read aloud.

“Varo Drenn, stationed aboard the Finalizer. Assigned to High Command security detail.” Applause sounded from behind them. 

The list went on, and then -

“(Y/n) (L/n).”

She barely shifted, but inside, her senses sharpened.

“You will be stationed aboard the Finalizer. You are assigned directly to General Hux.”

The hall remained silent, but a subtle tension threaded through the air before the applause started. Few Umbral were assigned to personal protection roles, particularly to someone of a higher ranking. But it was not unheard of.

She turned her head just slightly towards the general. His expression did not change, but there was the faintest flicker of something in his gaze. Approval? Interest?

Or perhaps just calculation.

(Y/n) simply bowed her head in acknowledgment. She did not question her orders. She did not hesitate. Her assignment had been set. And she would see it done.

“That is all from me, Umbrals. I wish you all the best of luck in your careers moving forward.” The commander eyed them carefully. “Honor in Loyalty!”

“ Strength in Silence!” The Umbrals viciously responded, their voices powerful as they carried through the chamber. 

The ceremony had ended, but the weight of it lingered in the vast expanse of the great hall. The gathered elders had dispersed, along with the spectators from the Covenant and the First Order. Now, only the newly anointed Umbrals remained, standing in their familiar groups and murmuring in hushed voices.

(Y/n) exhaled slowly, flexing her palm where the ceremonial cut had already healed. She had known this moment was coming for years, yet the finality of it settled in her chest like a weight.

A voice broke through the silence beside her.

“Didn’t think we’d actually live long enough to make it to this point.”

She turned, already recognizing the low, dry tone before meeting the sharp gaze of Varo.

Dressed in the same black ceremonial attire as her, he looked every bit the Umbral he now was. Tall, imposing, his features carved from sharp lines and quiet intensity. But there was an ease to his posture, an irreverence in his stance that had always set him apart from the others. While many of their kind held themselves with rigid discipline, Varo carried his authority like a cloak draped loosely over his shoulders, rather than armor strapped too tightly to his skin.

(Y/n) arched a brow. “You doubted?”

Varo let out a short, amused breath. “Not about myself. You, though? Definitely.”

She gave him a pointed look, unimpressed.

He smirked. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who kept getting thrown into the pits every time you challenged the instructors.”

“They were wrong,” she said simply.

“They were stronger,” he corrected. “At least at the time.” He studied her for a moment before nodding. “But I guess you proved your point.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it.

There was a brief lull in the conversation as the murmurs of their fellow Umbrals filled the space around them. Some had already begun filtering out of the hall, moving toward their new lives, their new assignments. It was a strange thing. To spend years side by side, only to be scattered the moment they were forged into weapons.

Varo broke the silence first. “So you’re being sent off with the general?” (Y/n) stiffened slightly. Of course, he would have questioned it already. 

She nodded. “I suppose so.”

Varo let out a low whistle. “Not bad. High-profile assignment. Though I can’t say I envy you. General Hux looks like he hasn’t slept about as much as ourselves.”

(Y/n) didn’t respond, but she could see the curiosity in his expression. “And what about you?” she asked instead. “High Command security?”

“High Command security.” he nodded, crossing his arms. “Captain Phasma’s command, I’m assuming. We’re stationed together, but I doubt we’ll see much of each other. At least, not as much as we’re used to.”

She considered that. They had trained together for years, watching each other’s backs, surviving what others couldn’t. Now, they were being pulled into separate orbits. She knew it was inevitable, but that didn’t make it any less strange.

“You’ll be safer there,” she remarked.

Varo scoffed. “I’m not sure safer is the right word when it comes to guarding a bunch of ambitious officers with knives hidden behind their backs.” His smirk faded slightly, something more thoughtful settling in his expression. “But I’ll manage.”

(Y/n) studied him. There was an understanding between them, one that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. They had survived the trials, endured the blood, the pain, the sacrifice. They were Umbrals now. Their lives weren’t their own anymore.

But that didn’t mean they weren’t still themselves.

“Be careful, (Y/n),” he said, quieter now. “Not just with the general. With the Covenant, too.”

She tilted her head. “You sound like you don’t trust them.”

Varo shrugged. “I trust that they’ll use us as long as we’re valuable. And if we stop being valuable?” He gestured vaguely. “Well. You know how it works.”

She did. All too well.

“But we aren’t Umbrals for no reason. We know our value.”

She didn’t let the thought linger. Instead, she extended her hand toward him, palm up.

Varo looked at it, then smirked slightly before gripping her forearm in a firm clasp.

“We survived,” he murmured.

“For now,” she replied.

Their hands fell away, and with one last glance, Varo turned and disappeared into the departing crowd.

(Y/n) stood in the dimming light of the Grand Hall, silent for a moment longer before finally stepping forward.

She walked with the same precise step, her boots striking the stone floor in measured intervals. The weight of her new insignia pressed against her chest, a tangible reminder of what she had become.

As she stepped past the towering doors of the chamber, she immediately noticed the presence of General Hux waiting in the adjacent corridor.

He stood with his hands clasped neatly behind his back, his long black coat pristine, every inch of him composed and controlled. Two First Order officers flanked him at a distance, but his attention was entirely on her.

She approached with unerring confidence, stopping precisely at the required distance. With a practiced motion, she placed her hand over her heart and bowed her head slightly. The formal gesture of acknowledgment within the Covenant.

“General Hux,” she said, her voice smooth and measured.

The man regarded her with the same critical gaze he had maintained throughout the ceremony. Up close, his presence was even more exacting. Sharp angles, unwavering posture. An air of authority that demanded nothing less than absolute obedience.

“Umbral (L/n),” he greeted in return, his tone clipped but devoid of disdain. “It seems we are to be in close quarters from now on.”

She straightened, her expression impassive. “I will carry out my duties as assigned.”

Hux’s lips pressed together slightly, as if amused by her strict adherence to protocol. “I would expect nothing less.” His gaze flickered over her with analytical precision. “You are younger than I anticipated.”

“My age is irrelevant, sir,” she replied without hesitation. “I would not be standing before you if I were not capable.”

Hux tilted his head slightly, considering her words. “Indeed. The Umbral training is known for its… unforgiving nature. And yet, you emerged among the few who completed it.”

There was an edge of something in his voice. Not admiration, but acknowledgment.

“My survival is a testament to the Covenant’s teachings,” she said simply.

He nodded, accepting the response before shifting slightly. “Your role with myself will differ from standard Umbral assignments, as I’m sure you are aware. You will report directly to me. No other officer aboard the Finalizer holds authority over you unless I say otherwise.” His gaze sharpened slightly. “Is that understood?”

“Perfectly, General.”

There was a moment of silence, something unsaid hanging in the air between them. Hux studied her, and she, in turn, did the same. She had learned to read people, to dissect their intentions, their weaknesses. General Hux was not a man who wore his emotions plainly.

But there was something in his eyes that told her he was doing the same to her.

Finally, he gave a curt nod. “Very well. You will accompany me back to the Finalizer. Your belongings have already been arranged for transport.” He turned sharply, beginning to walk, (Y/n) moving in perfect sync beside him.

As they walked, the halls of the academy fortress loomed around them, dark stone and towering spires casting jagged shadows under the dim glow of the perimeter lights. 

They walked outside into the cooler night air towards their awaiting transport, their boots echoing against the stone path leading to the landing platform.

From the ceremony, she had observed him in sharp detail. The cold, precise way he carried himself, the calculating glint in his eyes. He was an enigma to her, even now, as they moved in unspoken synchrony towards their shared destination.

For a time, neither of them spoke. It was not uncomfortable, only measured. (Y/n) had been trained in the weight of silence, in the power of withholding words until they served a purpose.

Hux was the one to break it.

“You’re not what I expected.”

She turned her head slightly, studying him from the corner of her vision. His gaze remained fixed ahead, his expression unreadable.

“Explain,” she said simply.

His brow arched faintly, as if noting her directness. “I expected a mindless weapon after all I’ve heard. A blunt instrument honed by the Covenant to serve without thought or hesitation.” A pause. “Instead, I find someone who holds herself like a dedicated soldier rather than a puppet.”

She considered that. “I am a soldier,” she affirmed. “And I was trained to be a weapon. But the two are not mutually exclusive.”

“Hm.” He didn’t argue the point.

The wind picked up as they neared the platform, the hum of its idle engines filling the space between them. The platform was quiet, and only a handful of the Covenant’s attendants and a few First Order officers stood waiting for them, Varo amongst them.

“A few key points to remember when under my supervision,” Hux began.

“Yes, General?”

“I do not tolerate insubordination.” The two of them ignored the bystanders they passed as they boarded the ship, focused in conversation. 

“I do not tolerate incompetence,” (Y/n) returned evenly.

That earned her a brief glance, though his expression remained carefully schooled. “My interests, demands, and safety are your first priority.”

“Naturally, sir.” Another look from the general.

“Your orders come from myself and myself alone. Not from Captain Phasma, not other officers. No one. If anyone urges otherwise, you are to report it to me. Am I clear?”

“Crystal, sir.” She spoke with an unwavering gaze. 

“Good,” he said after a moment. “Then we won’t have a problem.” He turned to take a seat, (Y/n) moving to lean against the wall beside him, yet alert. “I don’t expect blind loyalty from you, Umbral,” he said, his voice measured. “Only obedience.”

(Y/n) met his gaze quickly. “Obedience is earned, not demanded.”

A flicker of something passed through his expression. Perhaps intrigue, perhaps amusement. It was gone before she could decipher it.

“Then I suggest you learn quickly.” He caught a shadow of amusement in her expression, but it quickly faded. 

Lockeroom | Cop!Steve x Fem!Reader |

Notes: This is a gift for my bestie @rollergirlworld , happy birthday to Steve’s wife! We both love a sweaty and dom, Steve. I wanted to try and do something new plot wise and environmentally unique, plus I know this will really be fun to write. So rollergirl and others please enjoy.

“Go, Steve!” You clap your palms together cheering loudly with the other wives and their partners, but Steve, he was all yours. Admits the mess of bodies you find his hazel eyes, cramped by strands of his damp chestnut locks. You were his little cheerleader and he fed off it.

He sends a wink your way and returns his full focus back to the game, white sneakers screeching against the court as the team works to get the ball. Occasionally him and some of the other officers got together to play a few rounds of ball and would somehow convince you to tag along. However, it didn’t take much convincing when his head was between your thighs, plus the sight of him like this was enticing.

The way his muscles tensed beneath the grey fabric of his tee drove you something akin to horny. A need was deeply present in between your legs. Reminiscent of the earlier events of the day. “Steve is something isn’t he?” Martha breathes — the wife to the chief — eyes him up. A tinge of jealous coils within your gut and you huff.

“Sure is, Martha.” You reply, shifting in your spot on the bleachers. She was a nosy twit and always had it out for your fiancé because Henry couldn’t put it out. She scoffs and turns her nose upward, turning her gaze away from you. Steve was simply all yours and it taken time to get where you were now. Hours went by until the game was called and the guys rushed to the showers. One by one the other men went, followed by their wives chasing them out the door, until you were alone.

No sign of your Steve. Odd. You gathered your things and rushed into the locker room calling out for your partner, “Stevie?” You push the door upon with your hip, shoving the handle down and entering the large back room. Another call out for his name is met with a small grunt and you rush around the corner towards the lockers, heels clacking noisily against linoleum tiles. Steve was seated on one of the benches, still clad in his gym shorts, his shirt discarded and a towel slung loosely over his shoulder.

Your shoulders slump in relief, “There you are. I thought maybe you died back here.” There was a lightheartedness to the tone, but Steve didn’t respond. You slowly lower down to your knees before him palms splaying out over his cheeks, “Stevie?”

He snaps out of his daze and his hazel eyes meet with yours, “I heard from Chief White, you had a little spat with his wife. Care to explain your attitude?”

Your aghast and a little embarrassed. She was always such a tattle and a bit prudish, “She was making comments and staring you down, Steve. I didn’t like it.”

“But I’ve warned you about that attitude, baby. Many times.” His eyes are focused on you now, jaw hardened beneath your hands. Calloused fingers brush over your own hands and push them down and away. “I think you need to learn a lesson.” He pats his thigh and your throat grow drys, gulping down your fear and standing back to your full height.

Awkwardly shifting on your feet, before sinking stomach down over his lap, hands gripping onto his forearm. His other hand helps steady your bottom, heels providing an extra support, but not comfortably. “Count every single one. We’ll start with ten, then see how well your bruised ass helps get that attitude in check.” He works your skirt up over your ass and admires the choice of undergarments.

You knew what was coming next and it thrilled you to no end, but at the same time it would be painful.

They always said that love hurts, and knows no bounds.