Tumgik
#HIS CLOTHES. HIS FACE. HIS NOSE. ALL THE DETAILS YOU PUT IN HIM MAKES ME SO HAPOY
beeholyshit · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
I'M GONNA START CRYING I'M SO ILL RN
8 notes · View notes
alexiroflife · 3 months
Text
"i missed you"
MDNI, so much suggestive everything, a little fluff but in the sukuna kind of way
ryomen sukuna x reader
Synopsis: sukuna will never say i miss you, but he will surely show you how much he does when you come home
to sum it up: just a late night thought
WC: 1,816
Warning(s): smut, literally just porn, sukuna has a dirty mouth, a whisper of overstimulation
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sukuna would take out a whole city before he openly admits that he misses you, which unfortunately isn't something you would entirely put past him.
You don't expect him to tell you when he wants to see your face, but you do, however, grow rather accustomed to the way he blows up your phone while you're away with family. When you're given a second to check your notifications, text after text after text lines up from your boyfriend, demanding to know where you are and what you're doing every second of the damn day.
And when he's not making inquiries about every little detail of your life from the moment you wake up to when you go to sleep, he's demanding you return home with empty threats that you know will never be carried out.
-> come home before the next sunrise or you will no longer be welcome within the estate.
-> i've changed my mind. come home tonight, or i am moving your stuff out of our room tomorrow morning.
-> are you seeing my texts? i know you can read. uraume taught me about what this device calls read receipts. answer me now. you are returning home, yes?
-> dammit, woman, just bring your ass back here. what more do you want?
You snort at the texts, your chest warming with endearment at his funny way of expressing his longing for you. He will pull every card, every bluff, every trick besides physically saying that he misses you, and you expect nothing less. After all, if he didn’t, he wouldn't be the Ryomen Sukuna you fell in love with. Somehow, this is more entertaining... just more Sukuna.
When you finally do return home, though, you're in for it. You're hardly even rolling your suitcases to the doors before Sukuna is swinging them open with an aggravated face upon seeing you. You grin widely.
"Kuna! I'm back!"
"Get the fuck in here."
He grabs you by the waist and lifts you up, abandoning your luggage and calling for Uraume to take care of it later. You giggle to yourself as Ryomen carries you with one arm to his chambers, kicking the door closed behind him and tossing you onto the large king bed that the two of you share.
"Well, don't act too excited," you tease.
"Quiet," he demands, voice menacingly low. Sharp hunger swirls in his crimson eyes as he approaches you, the shadow of his burly figure enveloping your frame as he towers over you at the edge of the bed. Your eyes go wide and your heart suddenly pounds in anticipation.
"Wait," you start, reaching a hand out. "Hold on-"
You yelp, the king of curses dragging you harshly by your ankle to the edge. He leans over you, his nose brushing against yours as his blood-red irises seer into your own. He studies you like a predator analyzing its prey before pouncing, devouring. You gulp, innocent lashes batting up at him as heat consumes your body. You know exactly what’s coming to you.
Just then, in his closeness, you remember how much you've missed him while you were away. His scent enrobes you, his eyes undressing you sinfully before he can even rip your clothes from your body. You rub your thighs together in a poor attempt to ease the sudden ache between your legs, and his gaze grows darker.
"You're never leaving this room ever again without my say so," he seethes, a declaration so firm that you almost believe he is being serious, and perhaps in his mind he is.
Your lips quirk up slightly. "Did you miss me that much?"
"Silence," he growls, hooking his fingers into your shorts and tugging them down harshly. You gasp and he tosses them over his head, caging you beneath his mass. "We're not going anywhere until I feel like I've successfully made up for all the time we’ve lost while you were away."
This is your favorite part of returning home from trips, though you don't go away without Sukuna often unless it's to see your family. You hate being away from the king of curses, even if it's for longer than a day. He's got you trained by his hand, somehow, yearning for his touch as though you'll crumble to pieces without it.
But the second you reunite, he has your thighs pressed up with your knees to your ears, hunched over your quivering bare frame, your stomach and legs already coated with three layers of your own fluid. He works his dick into you like it's the last time he ever will, slamming into the warmth of your sloppy pussy as you clench around him helplessly.
You’re whining, begging for more though you've already been given so much, your pretty eyes a fucked out daze as you stare up at him behind low lids, pretty lips parted and slick with his spit. He missed this. He missed seeing you ruined for him, seeing you lay back and struggle to take his fat cook as he bullies it into you with no remorse, feral for impossibly deeper access. And hell, he’d never say it, but he missed you. Your pretty face, your sounds, the smell of your sweet sweat and juices invading Sukuna's senses that are absolutely mouthwatering.
"You keep tryin' to keep this filthy cunt away from me, huh?" he pants, watching as your body rocks back and forth wildly against the mattress. "Fucking shameful. You know you can never take her from me, so I'm not sure why you continue to try..."
"M-n-not," you gasp, your words hardly audible as they melt into the plethora of pathetic moans that string from your swollen lips.
Sukuna presses himself down against you, bare chest to your tits as he fucks you into pace, his lips turning to your ear. "No?" he grunts, pulling back to blow harshly into you, his thick length ramming against your walls and nudging that sweet spot inside you over and over. You cry, clinging to his back and digging your nails into his tatted skin. "Then why the fuck didn't you come home when your king demanded?"
"Pl-hah-pleaseee, k-kuna- nghhh- was with my-my parents," you babble.
"You were with your parents," he repeats mockingly. "Do you think I care for something so unimportant? I called for you. Not your parents."
His hips thrust harshly with the gruff groan of his voice, and he feels your puffy, greedy walls tighten around him.
"Oh? This pussy loves being punished, doesn't it?" he smirks against you. "You're such a fucking whore for my cock, aren't you?"
"Mmmm!"
Sukuna rips himself back, reaching down to clench his thick fingers around your throat. Your jaw hangs open, eyes threatening to roll into the back of your head while his other hand claws at the plush of your damp thigh. "Answer me properly, brat," he hisses. "Use your fucking mouth."
"Y-Yesss!"
"Yes what?"
"M'a whore for your cock, Kuna! Only for you, all for you," you whimper, tears streaming down your pretty face.
"Fuck, I fucking know you are." He spears his dick into, rough, deep, heavy thrusts as the sound of your arousal squelches around him. He looks down, watching with a twisted grin as you coat him in a creamy white ring. "How the hell could you think to hold out on me like this, peach? She'so fuckin' loud."
"S'all yours," you whimper, and Sukuna squeezes harder at your throat, leaning in to brush his lips over your gaping mouth.
"I know that, I don't need you fuckin' telling me," he growls. "All mine. You're mine. You belong to me. You’re not going anywhere else without me. Don’t you even think about it.”
And you're nodding dumbly, eyes barely open.
"You better look at me, girl," he demands, and you snap your eyes back open to peer into his consuming, lust-filled stare. He smiles deviously. "Yeahhh. Keep looking at me while I fuck you stupid."
"Goddd, it's so good..! So good, feel'so good," you slur. Sukuna hums, eying every detail of your face as you curl your brows and moan beautifully into his mouth.
"Fucking gorgeous slut," he grunts. "You better not fucking leave me again, brat, you better fucking not. You've got a lot of nerve, thinking you can take this pussy away from me. You do it again, and I will break you."
"Y'already breaking me- ah fuck!" you cry, screwing your eyes shut the moment his tip brushes your cervix. His hand around your throat moves to grip your cheeks. He pulls you up to his face, smearing a hot kiss against your squished lips, then grabs your hips harshly, plowing into you impossibly faster. "Kuna! Can't! I can't, m'gonna cum again!"
"Yeah? Good. When you do, you're gonna take mine too while I fuck my cum into you. Maybe then that'll make you fucking remember to come to me when I call for you."
The noises coming from your room are obscene. The bed is rocking dangerously against the floor and the wall as Sukuna practically splits you in half, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he traps you beneath him again, sinking his fangs into any patch of skin he can find as you scream out, scratching angry red lines down his well-toned back.
"Mmm, that's right. Keep screaming' for me. Take it like a good fucking slut."
He's filthy, balls smacking against your ass as he seeks your release, and he can feel you clenching tighter and tighter. He groans, pushing in deeper, pressing into you harder.
"Oh shit, please- m'cumming, m'cumming, please let me cum!" you beg, trembling beneath him.
"Fucking do it. Cum all over this cock, peach."
You curl into him, face falling into a mute moan as your eyes disappear into your skull and you rub up into Sukuna. His hand flies to your arched back, holding you against him as he pumps you full, riding out your high until his hot load shoots into your dripping heat soon after, painting you white.
There's so much of it, too. It seems to never end as it drips from where you're connected and runs down your legs. Sukuna growls out animalistic sounds, biting hard into your neck and burrowing his nose in your shoulder as he continues his pace, slowly, then back to a normal space.
You jerk against him, trying to push away. "Oh fuck! N-no, Sukuna, ple- hah! Please, I can't! Too much!"
"Shut the fuck up," he demands, lifting up to slap a hand over your mouth. Your dizzy eyes stare at him widely as he works his cum back into you with his hefty strokes. He exhales harshly, brows angling. "I told you I wasn't letting you leave. You left me, now I expect you to make up for it." 
Yeah… he sure did miss you alright.
2K notes · View notes
cursingtoji · 1 year
Note
11 and 21 with gojo please please PLEEK
One Bed + Hate Sex
Tumblr media
⊱ ex!gojo x fem reader, smut, one face slap (on him), degradation but also praising ig?, possessive gojo, 2k words (this almost consumed me) ┊The Clichés ™
note: i got a litte crazy in the process of "why would i hate gojo" and ending up taking an extra prompt from the list for this so... ta dah ✨ ex boyfriend gojo enjoy
Tumblr media
“It's been a while” Satoru greets.
One year it’s a long time, seeing him makes your stomach hurt but you realize you don’t carry as much resentment as you used to.
After your break you asked to be sent on missions far from tokyo, you knew eventually you would see Gojo Satoru again, and there he was, in casual clothes standing by the exit of the train station you agreed to meet at.
You felt him before you turned around the corner, and he felt you too. His six eyes could see the flames of your cursed energy increasing and decreasing as you tried to control your emotions. When you showed up he smiled, eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.
“Indeed.”
The director of Kyoto explained Gojo was meeting you there cause he got a lead on a special grade cursed object and you would be his companion on the search that would start tomorrow morning. That shouldn’t be hard, right? 
“How've you been?” he asks politely.
“We don’t need to do that” you reply quickly as both of you made your way to the cabs.
“Why? Am I supposed to not care for your well-being anymore?” his question would seem innocent to anyone, but you have trained ears for Gojo Satoru, and you can tell when he’s being patronizing.
“Yes, just like I don’t care about yours” you enter the cab and give the driver the name of your hotel, Gojo walks around the cab and sits beside you. The close proximity of him in this confined space already makes you uneasy.
“Don’t be like that, I know that’s not true” he puts his arm behind you, his cologne invading your senses and you consider rolling down the windows, but nostalgia stops you, “No matter what you say, i can still read you like a book” he whispers moving some strands of hair out of your shoulder.
Gojo knows you’re too well-mannered to do or say anything to him in this cab, you don’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of the driver even though he’s a stranger. Gojo always hated how much you cared about other people’s opinions — one of the things that you constantly fought about near the end of your relationship — yet he knew how to use that on his advantage.
The cab drops you off in front of your hotel and you leave Gojo to pay for it while making your way to the reception, giving your last name.
“I’m sorry, miss, I couldn’t find a reservation under your name” the girl at the reception says.
“Wha— didn’t you make a reservation?” you ask Gojo.
“I thought you were gonna make it” he shrugs and you have to restrain yourself from attacking him.
“Fine. Two rooms for tonight only” you turn to the receptionist again.
“Sorry ma’am, we’re all booked for tonight” she explains.
“Can you check again?” Gojo extends a membership card and she types something on her computer.
“Oh we have one master suit available for premium members” you roll your eyes.
“We'll take it” he says.
“Wait, just one?” you intervene.
“I'm afraid so, it’s the only room available for tonight.”
“So what’s gonna be, baby? Sleep with me or on the street?” he pushes his sunglasses down his nose bridge, wanting to see in detail your facial expressions as he teases.
“Don’t you dare call me that” you growl at him, “I shouldn’t have agreed to this mission” you mumble the last part looking around and considering your options.
“But it was not your decision to make, was it? You’re too much of a people pleaser to even question an order from those bags of bones you respect so much” he mocks bringing in a frequent fight topic.
“We'll have the room” you turn to the receptionist after realizing you didn’t have much to do anyways, right now you just look forward to locking yourself in the bathroom for at least one hour while you wash all the Gojo Satoru out of your system.
Gojo offered to carry your small one-night bag, but as expected you don’t let him take it, once you arrive at the room you can’t help but admiring how fancy it is. Just the kind of place Gojo used to get for the two of you.
“Good thing it’s a king size” you murmur looking at the huge bed, should be enough to sleep without touching him.
Gojo walks past you, pulling his sweatshirt over his head, the shirt underneath raising slightly but enough for you to take a peek at his back muscles and gulp.
“I'm going to shower” you announce, taking some clothes out of your bag and leaving your phone at the nightstand.
“Without me?” he blinks suggestively.
“Ugh” you slam the bathroom door in disgust.
Gojo laughs and lays at the bed getting comfortable, he reminisce the times when you were dating and he showed up at your hotel even if he was not part of your mission, he would get you a secret upgrade for a room with hot tub and sat there with you leaning on his chest while you talked about a future where you would be a teacher alongside him and not need to travel so much. Later he would assure the two of you would make it work through kisses and sweet whispers while fucking you slowly and passionately and take you out on a nice restaurant afterwards.
Gojo is pulled out of the memory lane by your phone’s message tone, he doesn't think twice before reaching to see what's your notification.
> did you arrive well? Xx
Suddenly he sees red. The contact name is unknown to him and he prides himself on knowing almost every sorcerer in Japan. So who the fuck is that?
Once the bathroom door opens, Gojo confronts you immediately.
“You moved on quite fast” you look up, noticing the phone in his hand and quickly trying to snatch it back before he disappears from the bed and reappears behind you.
“Don’t fucking test me, Satoru” you try again.
“Who’s he? Huh?”
“None of your business” you get closer and on your tiptoes to retrieve the phone, Satoru holds your wrist with more strength than necessary.
“Is he a curse-user? Kyoto faculty? Answer me” he pushes you until your back hits the wall, throwing your phone over his shoulder — not giving two shits if it breaks — and moves to be in between your legs, holding both your wrists above your head in one hand.
“None, get off of me”.
“Non— you’re dating a civilian?” he laughs, the psycho laughter gives you chills.
“You have no right to speculate about my own private life!” you tried to kick him, but he closed your legs between his own.
“That's why you broke up with me? To be with a boring fucking no-one?” that’s the angriest you ever seen Satoru, even when you fought he always kept his voice down, as if to tease you even more.
“I did break up and you didn’t even question it, did you? Didn’t even put up a fight!” you yell like you’ve been meaning for so long, after a big fight you yelled that you two should break up and his ‘yeah, maybe we should’ shocked you.
Satoru’s grip loses around your wrists, his big blue eyes look down at your anger filled ones seeing a hint of hurt in the features of the girl he fell madly in love with.
Fuck, he missed you so much.
You're panting at this point, both of you stay silent until your gaze falls to his lips, that's all the encouragement he needs to close the gap and kiss you, you gasp when the towel slides down to your feet, now physically and emotionally exposed to him. Gojo groans when he touches the bare skin of your waist and your arms fall on top of his shoulders. It’s incredible how quick you surrender to him, lips parting for him to taste his beloved one.
You can’t help the way your body reacts to him, not even when you attempt to rub yourself on his thigh and he stops you.
“‘S your boyfriend not taking care of you?” his tone drips mockery, a hand crawls up grabbing your breast harshly.
Before you can send him to hell his tongue is shoved back inside your mouth and you rub your thighs together already feeling yourself getting wetter.
“Fucking slut” he groans on your lips pinching your nipple and moving to cup your cunt, “Does he touch you like this? Like the whore you are? Or he treats you like a little delicate thing you pretend to be?”
Your palm acts fast to slap his cheek.
“Fuck” he moans, the burn on his face going stray to his dick as he ruts against your stomach.
Satoru slides the hand between your legs to spread your slick and press the heel of his palm on your clit, you whine, pressing your back against the wall.
“You’re not getting away from me, so don’t even try” your former boyfriend pushes his fingers without much resistance from your moist walls.
“T-Toru” you shut your eyes letting the nickname escape. This is all he dreamed of, having his name come out of your lips again, but he still couldn’t get over the fact you let someone else touch you, especially someone that did not understand you like he did. Someone that had no idea the type of job you had and how dangerous it was. Someone that would stand up during the mission assignments to volunteer for the most dangerous ones so you wouldn’t go.
“That’s right, baby, say my name” he curls his long fingers inside you, moving one arm out of his shoulder to guide your hand into his pants, where you quickly wrap around his length. You move his pants and underwear out of the way, the hot skin of his dick touches your stomach and you look down. And god, he has such a pretty cock it’s unfair.
“Wanna suck me, gorgeous?” he murmurs, watching the lust in your eyes, “Missed my cock in your mouth?” he hits the sweet spot inside you harder when you don't answer, “Say it” he grabs your jaw forcing you to stare at the dark ocean in his eyes.
“Y-Yes, I missed your cock” you confess, letting out all the times you pretended it was him pleasuring you instead of your fingers.
You squeeze his base when he fastens his fingers and your orgasm approaches, but it doesn't take long before he removes them and you whine.
“You’re all bark and no bite, all it takes is having your pussy played with and you get quiet” he bites your lobe, his harsh words make you wanna hide your face in embarrassment.
“Satoru, please” you beg and pull his pants all the way down trying to move to get on your knees.
“No, you’ll take what I give you” he grabs your arm and pushes you onto the bed, discarding his shirt before moving to position your knees on the mattress, “You’re lucky if I even let you cum tonight…” he strokes his cock with your remaining moisture on his hand before moving to bury himself in your walls, “... after everything you put me through” he confesses the last part in a hush.
“M-Me? Fuck you, Satoru” he fucks you roughly, not giving you time to argue back.
“Yeah, you” he punctuates with a particularly hard trust, “Can’t believe you were sleeping with someone all this time” his voice breaks but his pace doesn't.
You feel him in your cervix, but his tone pulls you out of your pleasure to explain yourself.
“I’m no— not” you whisper and he stops to lean over you.
“What was that?”
“I’m not… sleeping with him, he’s not— he’s no one” you confess slightly turning your head to look at him, his eyes squint as you feel his hot breathing against your neck and chest on your back.
“Good” he straightens up and pulls out. You turn around sitting on the bed and pulling him by the neck to kiss you again, Satoru complies, crawling with his lips attached to yours, until you're laying on the pillows wrapping your legs around his waist so he’s back inside you, “Missed this cunt so bad” he cups you again, feeling the way your lips stretch to his length while sucking on your nipples.
You arch your back “Hate you so… much— agh!”
“No you don’t, you never have” he bites your nipple and your nails sink on his back.
“This is pretty empty for an all booked hotel” you comment when you sit at the restaurant for breakfast the next morning while a cup filled to the brim with coffee, having slept only 4 hours since Satoru kept you up all night, denying your orgasm until you begged and apologized.
“Is it?” Gojo tilts his sunglasses looking around, finding only four other tables occupied while you stare at him suspiciously. He wonders how long it’ll take for you to find out that on the way there he booked every single room except one so you wouldn’t have a choice.
Tumblr media
see also: Gojo + Fake Dating # Toji + Forbidden Love
3K notes · View notes
oceansblvds · 3 months
Text
the early morning ; satoru gojo
Tumblr media
pairing ; satoru gojo x reader
words ; 703
summary ; a blurb detailing waking up next to satoru gojo.
warning(s) ; slight smut, mentions of marriage, fingering,
Tumblr media
it's during the early morning that you consider satoru gojo dutifully and wholly yours.
when you went to sleep in an empty bed and woke up with the first signs of the sun to someone next to you, his white tufts of hair poking out from under the blanket that he used to cover up his face. you wouldn't know when he arrived, probably some time between hours of 3am and 4am, whenever his job allowed for him to gain some type of reprieve.
you would ask him about it later, you supposed, taking the time to admire him, noting the cuts along his long fingers that he used to wrap around your waist. turning ever so slightly in an attempt to not wake him up, you peeked under the covers, seeing his soft eyelashes batted down and hearing his soft breathing breaking through the silence. he slept much like a child, always complaining about his beauty sleep.
as if satoru could sense that you were staring at him, his glowing blue eyes struggled to open, a grumble leaving his lips. "weirdo," he whispered to you, his hands coming and wrapping around your waist, pulling you up on top of him. your hands rested against his broad, naked chest, legs straddling his waist. "watching me sleep?"
"watching you drool," you teased, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his nose. "i just cleaned these sheets, you know."
satoru scrunched up his face, one of his hands coming to press against your upper back, pulling you closer to his body. "i do not drool," he stated. "plus, i'll just buy you new ones anyway."
"you're going to buy more instead of putting them into the wash?" you asked, raising your eyebrows at the laziness that he often presented when it came to normal, mundane tasks such as chores. "you really did grow up rich, didn't you?"
he only hummed, stretching forward and capturing your lips in a kiss, one that was clearly telling you to shut up. it was ever so composing, the dull taste of toothpaste being shared between the two of you, his tongue coming and invading the privacy of your mouth. you tried to gain the upper hand, putting your palm on his cheek and turning your head to deepen the kiss. satoru wasn't having any of it, deciding to distract you with a thrust of his hips forward, making you gasp into his mouth and allow for his tongue to slide further in. the bastard.
you decided to get revenge, rolling your hips, clothed pussy rubbing against his boxers. when you earned a particularly satisfying groan from him, you did it over and over again, using the force of his hands to help guide you to a pleasurable pace. all the while, his lips continued to kiss you. your neck, lips, collarbone, anything he could get them on. he was brutal with his kisses, sucking and biting and claiming you as his own. it was silly, really. his incessant need to continue to mark you as his as if he hadn't already claimed you the moment you two met all those years ago. still, you weren't going to complain.
"if you keep moving, i'm going to cum in my boxers," satoru said into your neck, using his hands to stop your hip movement all together. "and that would really be a shame."
to you, you thought. it would honestly be a compliment to your hip movements if you didn't say so yourself. a giggle left your mouth, one that he swallowed with his own as he pushed you onto your back, hand pushing into your panties to spread around your wetness. if he said something about it, you didn't hear it, too engrossed in his presence and the way that he was making you feel.
and as he pressed two fingers into you, pumping them in and out of you to prep you for yet another round of good morning sex, you thought to yourself how lucky you were to call satoru gojo yours.
and what you didn't know was that last night he was out late to find the perfect ring to ask you to officially call you his.
513 notes · View notes
lowkeyremi · 3 months
Text
𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 !
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: iwaizumi x fem!reader note: it’s his birthday!!!!! my silly little gym rat <3 happy late birthday iwa!!! summary: your husband doesn’t want too much for his 30th birthday, but you won’t stand for that! content: fluff, birthday, marriage, mentions of other characters like oikawa, kissing, gosh this is so gooey in the best way possible, drinking.
Tumblr media
“Baby, seriously, you don’t need to do all of this.” Your husband sighs at the same time that you poke your tongue out in concentration.
Currently, a piping bag of not too sweet icing is in your hands and you’re icing a one layered cake.
“Haji you only turn 30 once, this is big!” Hajime scratches at his neck, a little groan leaving his lips afterward.
“It’s just a reminder that I’m getting older.” Yes, that’s true, he is getting older. He’s no longer in his twenties. He would argue that he’s not in his prime anymore but you think otherwise.
There have been highs and lows to his twenties but his thirties are going to bring something new to the table. What exactly? You’re not sure, but it will present itself with time.
“Hurry up and go change into the clothes I put out for your special day. Your friends and past kohais will be arriving in like 30 minutes.”
A little what leaves his lips, “You invited those losers?”
“Those losers all love you very much, so of course I invited them.” He snorts, “Never thought I’d spend my thirtieth birthday with my old volleyball team.”
“Yeah, well, you told me that they were like a family to you soooo.” He can’t argue with you there, sometimes his volleyball team felt more like a family to him than his own family did. They all had the same goals as he did and they just understood him.
“Ugh, fine. I’ll go change.” Good, he can’t be seen in his white tank top and pajama bottoms. Even if that tank top is a little small on him and defines his aged muscles well.
Hopefully the slacks you picked out will define his ass some, and the navy button up will fit snuggly on his torso. You almost lose focus just thinking about it. Your determination to finish this cake is what brings you out of dreamland.
You set down the main icing and pick up one with a smaller tip to add little details and write “Happy 30th Birthday Hajime!” In the signature Aoba Johsai turquoise.
When the cake is finished you worked on making sure all the decorations were up to par. Since this is only a small party, the decorations are kept to a minimum. Minimal but fitting of course.
When your husband was away training professional athletes, he would send you silly snaps of him with different filters. Of course you saved all of them for this occasion. There were at least twenty different printed out faces of your husband with silly filters that you had saved from your chats.
You wasted no time hanging them up, giggles following suit as you looked at the silly pictures.
The last one doesn’t get hung up because Hajime surprises you and snatches the picture from your hands.
You got a little whiff of the cologne he was wearing, a smile graces your face when french vanilla and spicy cinnamon tickles your nose. Upon turning around you see him wearing the outfit you picked out and you gotta admit that he looks even better than you imagined he would.
“What’s all of this?” The pictures are what he’s implying but you can’t focus on anything besides the way his muscles bulge when he waves his arm around to signify all the pictures you had hung up.
“Oh nothing. Just something to entertain your friends with!” Your giggles only multiple when you hear a loud groan leave his lips.
“These look awful I’m taking them down.” He doesn’t even get the chance to because the doorbell rings at the perfect moment.
“I don’t think so,” you sing-song, “you need to go welcome in your guests.”
Said guests give a loud knock and four more doorbell rings. Hajime rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t get stuck in the back of his head, “Must be that annoying Shittykawa.”
That nickname spilling from his lips proves just how much he needs this party. His friends bring out a side of him that doesnt have to pretend or worry about being judged, because they get him.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY IWA-CHAN!” Fills your ears when your husband opens the door. Hanamaki and Matsukawa join in mocking Oikawa’s voice, “Happy birthday Iwa-chan~” the two mock in unison.
“Shut up!” Oikawa quips before scoffing, “always being mean to me, I can never catch a break!” Of course he brings his dramatics into your kitchen.
His brows unfurrow when he takes sight of you and he gasps very dramatically, “[name]-chan! LOOKING AS BEAUTIFUL AS EVER!!” Oikawa basically flops onto you and wraps his arms around you in a hug.
But you have to remember this a 6’1 athlete, not someone of your stature so you almost fall over when he flops on you.
“Oi, idiot stop flirting with my wife!” Hajime screams from the front door.
Hanamaki and Matsukawa make their way into the kitchen. “Toru’s back to wife stealing again?” Matsukawa asks with a smug look. Oikawa has a huge reputation and he usually maintains it well, a scandal like this sounds quite interesting!
“Oh? He stole someone’s wife?” You ask setting out silverware and handing out party hats, which Yahaba says is corny, but what do you care?
“You guys are twisting the story! She didn’t tell me that she had a husband!” Hanamaki, ever the instigator, tells Oikawa that it’s still bad he was seeing a married woman.
More of his team starts to file in: Kunimi, Kyotani, Kindachi, and Watari.
These grown men (Oikawa, Maki, and Mattsun) are actually having a petty argument. You know the two are purposefully riling up Toru, maybe they wanted a reaction from Hajime, who knows, but you’re going to be the one to put it to rest.
“Hey! No fighting on Haji’s birthday. Also Oikawa are you really gonna let them rile you up like that, you’re a grown man for heavens sake.” Hajime makes his way from the entrance of your house to steal a kiss from your lips.
“Yeah listen to my wife.” Kunimi makes a gagging noise and you just giggle.
“Welcome everyone! I’m glad you all could make it to Hajime’s 30th birthday and yes, it means a lot for all of you to be here. He may not say or express it enough but he really does love you guys.” All eyes shift from you to Hajime and he blushes slightly at your confession.
“Babe-” He mumbles before he’s interrupted by his best friend.
“We’d be dumb not to be able to tell that Iwa-chan loves us!” Hajime glared at the brunette and takes that as a warning to shut up.
After dinner is served and cake is eaten, you all shift to the living room were you enjoy drinks and just talk about old times, or catch each other up on new things in life.
Hajime will never admit it but he’s a lightweight. After three drinks his face is already flushed and his words are slightly slurred.
“Hey! Listen up losers I have an announcement.” He says raising his glass (of water, you switched it out when he wasn’t looking. All eyes are on him and you can see Oikawa recording this moment, most likely to use to taunt your husband later.
“I- I fuckin’ love you guys so much. You guys are the best buncha’ idiots I’ve ever met. And- and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Not only were you guys there for me as a team you guys were at my wedding and I hope you’ll be there for me again in the future.” He yells out cheers and everyone raises their glasses to clink it with his.
“We love you too, Iwaizumi!” The group yells in unison. Well maybe not Kunimi— he kinda mumbles it.
The rest of the night contains laughter and pure joy from this amazing celebration.
“How do you feel, honey?” You ask him as he rests his head on your shoulder, no doubt ready for bed, since he usually doesn’t stay up later than 10:30 and it’s 1 am.
“Like the luckiest fuckin’ guy on earth.” That brings a smile to your face.
“That beats no party, huh? Mr. I didn’t want a party.”
“Didn’t realize how much I missed these idiots.” He sighs in contentment.
780 notes · View notes
fuxuannie · 1 year
Text
↳ pairing : miles morales x reader
↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)
↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.
After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.
"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"
Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.
"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"
You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."
The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.
However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art drawn on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.
"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."
Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"
Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"
Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.
Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.
"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.
"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.
At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.
The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.
You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.
"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"
The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.
"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"
The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.
That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.
"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.
You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.
You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.
2K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Bratty!Fem!reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Tired of your antics regarding how cavalier you take your sexual relationship, your lieutenant cuts you off and that has you immediately plotting. You know you can get him to break and all it'll take is one purchase. How can he keep his resolve when he sees what you've bought? And how will he act when he catches you?
Word Count: 6.8 k
Warnings:
Tumblr media
The office is silent now except for the distant sounds of movement filtering in from outside the door of people coming and going through the building. Your shirt clings in a rumpled mess to your body, sweat speckling across your limbs from that specific heat that gets shared between two bodies, euphoria still running through your veins when the man sitting beneath you speaks. “We’re not doin’ this again, so get that straight. Understand?”
You tilt your head to the side and raise a curious eyebrow, staring back into the face of your lieutenant as he gets you to your feet and grabs his shirt to throw it back over his head, covering his sweat-glistening torso. “Care to explain what you’re talking about or am I meant to just guess?” you ask with snark in your tone as you pick up the rest of your clothing off the floor.
Buttoning his pants and re-buckling his belt, he takes his time before answering as you finish and stand there impatient and agitated. “What the fuck did I say about startin’ stuff with me when I’m busy?” Lt. Riley questions back, his voice harsh. “Did ya think I was jokin’ or are ya just hell bent on gettin’ caught? Cause that’s what’s gonna fuckin’ happen if ya keep temptin’ me in the middle of the day.”
“You could turn me away,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “ever heard of self-control?”
Stepping up close to your body, the lieutenant grabs you by the chin and looks down his nose at you. “You’re too much of a distraction. And ya need to be taught a lesson, sweetheart; when I say somethin’ I fuckin’ mean it. Consider this my self-control.” 
“Oh, gonna punish me now?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you pull your face out of his grasp with a flick of your head. “Okay, go ahead. Let’s see what you got.”
“Ya ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from me til I can be sure you’re gonna listen. You’re cut off, sweetheart, and until ya can learn, we’re done with this.” 
You hold his gaze steadfast, not intimidated in the least. If he wants to play this game, then you’ll play it, but if he thinks this is going to end the way he wants, he is going to be sorely mistaken. “Fine.” You don’t argue, there is no sense to. “Have it your way, sir. Is that all?”
You’ll have it your way soon enough. All it’ll take is patience.
He doesn’t say anything, opting to sit back in the chair behind his desk without uttering another word. It is a gross miscalculation on Lt. Riley’s part not to immediately take your acceptance if his reprimand as a giant red flag, but if he isn’t willing to put his knowledge of your competitive temperament to use then that is fully on him; he is a big boy and since he wants to talk about consequences, then he should be ready to receive his own.
You double check yourself in silence before you leave his office with a smug sense of satisfaction, though a plan isn’t in mind just yet. It doesn’t matter really, the bigger they are the harder they fall and you are confident that you can make him fold with very little effort because despite being a man of mostly mystery, you know the intimate details of what makes that 6’4” military officer weak. 
The day isn’t even over before you already have a plan in mind and it all involves one very specific item. It’s a shame you have to order it, but the time it’ll take to come in the post will work in your favor. Lt. Riley needs time to cool off, to miss his pretty thing, to let his appetite for you get ravenous again.
Patience was never your virtue unless it came to getting something you wanted, so you bore your restlessness in silence as you waited for your order to come in. You give the lieutenant his space without a fuss, letting him believe his little delusion that at any moment you’ll come crawling back ready to obey him just as he wants.
A week passes and then nearly another when finally you are gifted with your prize that comes in the evening mail that Friday. You can taste the sweetness of your retribution already as you rip into the package and pull out the smallest, tightest pair of jet black hot pants with white trim. No more keeping this body for his eyes only; if he doesn’t want to give you the attention you desire then someone else will. 
You rush to your barracks the second the day comes to a close with your package in hand; you have only a short window of time to pull your entire plan together or you’ll be forced to wait till after the weekend and you are tired of waiting. Tonight is the night that you make your lieutenant come crawling back to you and stop with this nonsense.   
The tiny swath of fabric covering your ass barely hides a damned thing from view, hugging around your hips like they are painted on and resting at the very top of your thighs so that the underside of your butt peeks out from below the hem. There is a slit that goes up the side and it is doing its job in making your legs look extra long while also showing as much skin as possible. It leaves almost nothing to the imagination for anyone who happens to look your way… and boy do you want as many eyes on you as you can get.
Let’s see him be steadfast in his resolve to teach you a lesson now.
With a head full of devious thoughts, you leave your room and head out onto base and into the oncoming night. Shoulders back and head held high you walk past the buildings with confidence on the way to your first stop of the night: the officers building. You had checked the clock just before you left, it’s nearly time now. He’ll be leaving his office soon and you need him to catch sight of you on the way to your second destination: the rec center.
How lucky it is that the lieutenant is a man of routine and so giving it another minute or two you step out in front of the building and start heading directly for the rec, though at a slower pace than usual. And sure enough, when you’re still within eyeshot, you hear the front door to the building open. 
Stepping out into the cooler evening air, Lt. Riley looks up and his sight is captured by a figure moving just up ahead in the distance. People coming and going isn’t abnormal on a military base, but what really catches his attention is the familiarity of the body and the way that body is dressed. He is stunned in his tracks because you are barely wearing anything at all with shorts that look like they’ve been painted on. Paired with the tight black tank top you’ve chosen and you might as well be naked for all the covering it does. After a good almost two weeks of no action, the man is starved…but also curious as to where the fuck you are going dressed like this. 
The best thing would have been for the lieutenant to turn tail and walk away, leave it and you alone, but as smart as Lt. Riley is when it comes to temptation the man is a goddamn fool that cannot help himself.
You are a good bit ahead by the time he takes action and decides to follow you, but he keeps the pace as heat floods his body from staring at the back of you walking away, desperately wanting to take a bite out of all that juicy meat tempting his gaze as it bounces with each sure-footed step you take. Fuck, he is a sucker for all the plump, tender parts of your body and having them on display like this is a regular buffet that he can’t help but soak up even with his nosiness into what exactly has you looking so killer. 
Those auburn eyes of his continue to follow you as you come to the front of a building and enter. Now that you are out of view, he can think more clearly and he realizes that it’s the rec center that you’ve just entered. The closer the lieutenant gets, the more he catches raucous sounds of many voices braying like a pack of crazed hounds, making him quicken his steps that match his rising blood pressure until he stands just outside the doors to peer in without being detected yet.
Through the glass doors he can see towards the back of the main room that a group of privates surrounding the single government bought pool table with cues in hand are now circling you like wolves circling a wounded deer, practically begging you to join them for a few games while he knows that its only to get you to stay longer so that they can enjoy the view. It makes his blood boil to watch them ogle you like that, getting far too close to what isn’t theirs. 
…to what belongs to him.
Standing in silence, now cloaked in darkness as night has fallen, he watches angrily as a private gets bold enough to place his hand at the small of your back just as you lean over the table to make your first shot and suddenly he is seeing red. He can barely comprehend anything through the angry haze clouding his vision, but he can feel the cold steel of the door handle in his hand as he wrenches it open and stalks inside as if he is ready to kill.   
All eyes immediately drift towards the source of the sound. You look up through a giggle to see the form of the lieutenant standing there, sharp gaze boring straight into you specifically and the man who still has his hand on you. 
“What’s goin’ on ‘ere,” that deep voice booms through the small space to quiet the rowdy bunch.
“Is there a problem, sir?” one of the more brave privates speaks up.
His sight doesn’t leave you. “Seems we need to have a chat about propriety,” he growls. “This is a military base, not a fuckin’ strip club.” 
You smirk. “I don’t know what kind of strip clubs you frequent, sir, but I can assure you that this is more clothing than most will allow.”
A few of the privates snicker behind you, impressed with your audacity to backtalk someone as imposing as the skull-masked officer and that does nothing but add fuel to the fire.
“Come with me- now.” His voice is firm. 
A collective “ooooh” passes around the bunch that is quickly quelled with one harsh glare. “If I were ya I would get back to my fuckin’ game,” Lt. Riley barks. “Or would you lot rather be placed on permanent fire guard to drive the goddamn point home, since ya want to meddle in an officer’s business?”
His command is absolute and none of the privates have the balls enough to question it. Quickly they scramble back to their game, keeping their heads down and eyes locked to the table. Whatever trouble you are about to get in is none of their concern, not when being reprimanded by the imposing lieutenant is on the line.
Satisfied, those amber eyes snap right back to you. “Move, now,” he demands and points towards an area of the rec that is blocked off by a wall, essentially cutting the room in two and will give enough privacy that the others inside won’t be able to witness what is about to transpire. 
“Of course, sir,” you say in agreement without a syllable of dissention. 
Turning on your heels you take off in the direction pointed out to you, walking ahead of the masked officer eagerly. He’s mad; there is no need to turn around, you can feel his glare on you the entire walk over and it makes you smile. You’ve hit the nerve you had hoped to. Now to bring it all home and get your lover back the way you want. 
As soon as you make it behind the cover of the corner his hand is on your waist as he shoves you into the wall with brute force. Your back hits it and you let out a surprised gasp. He stands towering over top of you, a powerfully intimidating figure with a massive presence to match as he glares you down with fire in his gaze. 
“Can I fucking help you?” you ask as you quickly regain your composure.
Christ, when you want to get his attention you sure know how to do it. “What the fuck do ya think you’re doin’, hmm?” he questions back heatedly. “Puttin’ on a fuckin’ show for all the privates? Do ya fuckin’ think this appropriate, what ya got on?”
Something about having this conversation with the barrier of his balaclava covering his face infuriates you as if this was any other time he would have already had it off his face. “You think you can just treat me like everyone else after all we’ve done? Fuck you; take off the mask when you’re talking to me.”
His eyes narrow as he shakes his head side to side. “You don’t get to make demands a me anymore, princess.”
“Oh yeah?” you challenge back. “That what you think?”
Leaning in a bit closer, you can feel the heat of his breath even as it filters through the fabric. “That’s what I know. Now answer the question. Do ya think this is appropriate?”
Your shrug is nonchalant. “For field work? Well, it depends on the climate I suppose. That doesn’t really apply here does it, since we are still on base. Why? Do you have a problem with it?”
A sharp hiss of air exits rapidly out of his nose. “Like hell I do,” he says and suddenly you can make out the feel of his fingertips as they toy around with the fabric at the edge of your shorts. He lets them brush against your outer thigh as he follows the line of the hem up the slit that goes higher towards your hip. There is electricity in his touch and it makes your pulse start to race. “You're distracting my men. An outfit like this is askin’ for attention. Whose fuckin’ attention ya tryin’ to get, hmm?”
“Who said anything about attention?” you question him back as if you can’t possibly understand what all the fuss is about. “I just wanted to be comfortable. You know, unwind and all that after a long week.”
“Comfortable,” he scoffs as he rolls the fabric in between his fingers. “Ya barely have a god damned thing on.”
“Maybe that’s how I feel most comfortable,” you push, your reply a little more breathy. “You of all people should know that.” 
Oh you are walking on thin ice, lying to him like this. He is not that innocent that he can’t tell what you’re doing and you are not that naive to think that he won’t immediately figure it out. Harshly grabbing your chin, he holds your face firm in his grasp as his dark eyes shadowed within the confines of his mask stare back into your own. 
“Don’t ya lie to me, sweetheart,” he says, that gruff voice metered and unyielding in its severity. “The way ya were just eatin’ up how those boys reacted, I know ya didn’t fuckin’ dress like a slag for nothin’.”
“Are they not allowed to look, Simon?” you ask without missing a beat and using his name as if it’s a curse.
The question hangs in that air as Simon shifts in his stance while not saying a word, eyes narrowing as he realizes that there is no right way for him to answer that without giving himself away that he has dug himself into trouble.
A smug grin crosses your lips before you try to lick it away. “Ah, so that’s the problem right? That they were looking at me? Strange, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were… jealous. But that can’t be right, can it Simon? Because I thought I was cut off and that you were done, so it’s all fair game yeah? Unless there is something you want to fess up to?”
Simon’s chiseled jaw twitches under his mask as his eyes shimmer; you are pushing it, though why is he even surprised. “Ya better watch it, luv,” he warns under his breath as his grip along your chin tightens. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, your pretty little fingers are gonna fuckin’ burn.” 
And before you are even made conscious of it, your mind immediately knows what to say in response. You hold his gaze steadfast in your own. “Make me.”
Those two little words and their variations are Simon’s kryptonite and you know it; that’s what got you on his cock in the first place. Nothing else can make that man go feral than a threat from a bratty bitch that puts him in the position to show them the consequences of what their cocky attitudes get them.  
You smirk, satisfied with how you seem to have the upper hand in this little confrontation. Simon is now in a place where he will either have to admit he still wants you and that his threat meant nothing or he will have to let you go… and you know by the rapid increase in the rise and fall of his chest the longer you stand between him and the wall that the latter is looking less and less likely. 
“Still waiting on your answer,” you say with a smug, satisfied grin spread across your lips, “or is it that if you say anything, it’ll make it clear that you are now regretting a certain… decision… you so hastily made?”
God, you know just how to rile him up in the exact way that both infuriates and entices him. His devil with a pretty face, his sin that feels like heaven; he is drawn to your stubbornness like a moth is drawn to a flame.
“Ya vicious little bitch,” he says, the words sharp. 
Gotcha, you think to yourself. You have that serious military officer right where you want him. Now all you have to do is go in for the kill. You take a step into him even with your chin still secure in his grasp. “Oh yeah,” you respond, your voice husky. “As if you don’t fucking love it.”
You are met with only silence as a shiver runs straight through him. He’s barely able to react in time to hide its presence, but grits his teeth hard and stifles any movement other than the rapid breaths he continues to take. 
“Cat got your tongue?” you ask and wait for a response that doesn’t come; you don’t expect it to. “That’s what I thought. So, here’s how it’s going to work: I’m gonna wear what I want, when I want, and if you don’t like how others react to my wardrobe then that’s on you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a game to return to.” 
Pulling your head back forcefully out of his grip, his strong, rough fingers release your chin and he watches as you make your move to step past him, but he can’t let this go like he had originally planned. This is the game you both play and he just can’t quit you. You are his, his, and he isn’t going to just let you forget that. You barely take the first few steps around him headed back the way you came when you hear Simon mutter under his breath. 
“Fuck,” the sigh hits your ears before his arm jettisons out and grabs you by the wrist. 
Your body is spun around and pulled into him, your back flush against his warm chest as he leans himself back against the wall. His hand shoots up to cover over your mouth, cupping across your cheeks to stifle any sound that may come from the shock of his action. Sure enough you gasp into his palm as he straps you to his chest by locking you in place with his other arm. 
“You’re not goin’ anywhere, princess,” he grunts lowly into your ear. 
Stoic and silent he pushes a knee up through the gap in your legs to widen them before his hand slinks down your abdomen, over your pants, and comes to rest against your sex. That large palm now nestled in between your thighs presses up into you and it only takes a few seconds for Simon to realize that he can feel the lips of your pussy straight through the thin fabric of your pants without any barrier. No panties, really?
You fucking witch. You planned this, didn’t you?
There are still soldiers hanging about, out of sight for the moment, but still not something that is conducive for such an encounter. He wouldn’t risk something like this…would he? What you think is going to be a quick touch and pull back turns into his hand locking to your pussy as he begins to massage it through your pants. He pushes his fingers up through the cloth until he can feel the outline of your clit on his fingertips.
A quiet chuckle falls from your lips behind his handmade muzzle as his fingers make contact with the crotch of your shorts and you feel his chest jerk as he struggles to catch his breath. Feel something you like, lieutenant? you think as the corners of your mouth upturn against his skin. 
A moan barely squeaks out from around his hand before he presses it harder against your lips. “Don’t need someone catchin’ us, do we? Not til I’m finished with ya.”
Those heated words cause your heart to race violently, thudding strong against your ribcage to match a certain throbbing growing in strength between your thighs. 
“You gonna keep quiet?” he asks and you nod in his hand. “Don’t make me regret it or else, princess.”
Simon removes his palm and wraps his arms around your waist; you’re not going anywhere. “We could still get caught, you know,” you say softly, stumbling over your words as his fingers continue to play.
“Ya should've thought of that before ya tempted me with this fuckin’ skin, luv,” he murmurs against the side of your head. There is no way in hell you are getting out of these shorts without him fucking you out of them, he will stop only when he can feel a wet spot soaking through the crotch. “ ‘Sides, maybe I want that prick that had his fuckin’ hands on ya ta see that he doesn’t stand a chance.” 
He won’t, he has never been the type to share but the threat serves its purpose. The boys at the pool table continue to distract themselves, but who knows how long that will last. If they come creeping over, there is no way they won’t instantly know what is happening. And yet over and over his large fingers grind against your clit until it begins to ache. 
“Gimme your hand,” he searches for the appendage, only to be met with resistance once he locates it. 
“I said give,” he reiterates the point in that more authoritative tone he is used to using with his men.
You shake your head that still rests in his grasp; you don’t want to make this easy for him. If he wants something he is going to have to work for it. Encapsulating your wrist in his hand, the muscles along his forearm strain as he drags your arm up from your side. He takes your hand firmly in his, fingers lacing themselves over the top of your own as he descends them both down the front of your body and slips them into the waistband of your shorts. No time is wasted in bringing them directly between your legs, parting through your warm, soft lips, and nestling both sets of fingers inside. 
“Gonna need ya ta participate in this part,” he says, low and bassey at the side of your face. “You’re fuckin’ achin’ bad, aren’t ya? Christ luv, I can already feel how swollen your clit is.”
Simon keeps your conjoined fingers resting up against that tiny bundle of nerves. There is a tension-filled pause as he takes a deep, labored breath as the end of his thought hangs anxiously in the air, waiting for him to finish it. His lips are right at the threshold of your earlobe, you can feel their presence as they ghost near the tender flesh, the skin tingling as his warm breath wafts over the area.
You suddenly realize the lack of oxygen filling your lungs as he finally speaks. “Let’s make it worse,” he growls. 
A shiver snakes through your spine as he forces your fingers to work in tandem with his in rolling circles over your sensitive clit, stroking again and again in a steady rhythm that he has set. 
“Best hope they decide to leave soon, sweetheart,” he breathes the words into your ear as he rests his forehead against your temple. “Cause if ya want me to let ya fuckin’ come, they’re gonna have to be gone. Until then we’re just gonna have to keep ya wet and fuckin’ ready.”
His phallus pulses against your ass through his pants, bobbing with his racing heartbeat as it prods into the cheek of your ass. A struggled, shaky breath escapes your lips as he moves his hips to press it into you; your sanity is hanging on by a thread. All you want is for him to bend you over, rip your shorts down, and thrust inside, but no matter how much you rub against it he does not take the bait.
Time passes so much slower as you stay strapped to him, his hand and yours shoved down the front of your shorts keeping you wet. Your sanity is beginning to wane; no one should be expected to keep it together when a lover who knows your body like the back of his hand is using everything to his advantage to keep you aching.
Pressure gathering in the pit of your stomach only to dissipate before it can ever come to fruition, over and over Simon brings you to the brink only to back off once you get close enough. It feels like eternity in the haze of his capable fingers working your body before the men finally decide that they have had enough with standing around the quiet center when the local bar is just a short drive down the road and head out, completely forgetting that they haven’t seen either you or the lieutenant for quite some time, but they also haven’t seen either of you leave. 
The moment the door shuts and the last sounds of talking can be heard drifting off into the distance, you are released and again turned only to be shoved back against the wall. Simon is immediately pressed against you, one knee collapsing into the wall between your legs as your hands greedily claw at the cloth gathered at base of his neck, fingers pulling up the bottom of his mask without hindrance so that they can get underneath it and push it up to expose his hungry mouth. A devilish, toothy grin waits to meet you as the fabric is removed; he’s proud of the desperation he has left you in. 
“They’re gone,” you say with a heavy bit of neediness. “I did what you said.” 
“Ya want me ta give it to ya now, that it?” he asks with a smug sense of self satisfaction. 
“You promised,” you shoot back, the agony of waiting becoming unbearable the longer he takes. 
His face inches in closer to yours, hot breath meeting and wafting over the skin on your lips as he exhales. “Ya think this is gonna be some sorta reward?” he asks, his voice lowering into the deeper part of his register, that gravely vibrato that turns your legs into jelly just from the sound.  
Those full lips of his ghost over your own, making the skin quiver from the proximity. Your mouth parts open as suddenly you feel like you can’t get enough air while waiting in misery for him to break and crash on you with all of his desire. A breathy gasp escapes through the gap as that thick thigh of his presses up into your pussy. He has you right where he wants you now.  
“Ya still got a fuckin’ lesson ta learn, princess,” he says. “So, I’m gonna have ta fuck the attitude til it comes drippin’ right out of ya.” 
And with that he leans down and forcefully connects your lips together so that your head hits the wall behind you. Fiery and aggressive he embraces your mouth again and again, lips fighting for dominance with each new connection. Breath and spit are shared as the wet smacking sounds of skin on skin hits the air and fills up the quiet of the place. 
You haven’t gotten your fill yet, but suddenly you find your body being lifted into the air and carelessly flung over one of his broad shoulders as he drags you back into the middle of the room. He eyes his destination the moment it comes into view from around the wall and quickly makes his way over to it; somewhere he can put you so he can get to work.
Your backside makes contact with the smooth felt of the pool table as Simon sets you down on top of it. The cool surface of the rails raises goosebumps on the back of your thighs as he situates you right at the edge. No longer pressed together, a spot of cold radiates from his thigh and he looks down to see a present you have left for him right on the fabric.
“Look what ya did,” he growls, pointing to the obviously darker patch on the inner thigh of his jeans. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”
“Whose…ng…fucking fault is that?” you whimper, adjusting yourself as every little movement puts pressure on your aching clit. 
“And I’d do it again ta keep my brat in line,” he smirks as his irises sparkle like a predator locking on to its prey. “Now, open your fuckin’ legs.”
You widen the gap between your thighs more, but he still has to use his hips to shove them open enough that he can fit in until he is right up against you. The sharp edge of his teeth cuts into the plump flesh of your bottom lip as he sucks it into his mouth to give it a hard nip. He swallows down the harsh groan you produce at his delicious brand of roughness like it’s honey. Every single sound you make in response to his actions is music to his ears. 
“Need ya ta know this type a shit isn’t gonna fly with me.”
Fingertips play around the perimeter of your cunt until he hooks them through the cool, damp crotch of your pants and wrenches them to the side to expose your entrance. “Let’s ruin these fuckin’ things,” he smugly says as he works with one hand to undo his pants and slide both that and his boxers down his thighs until his cock pops out of the waistband and stands hard and throbbing for you. “Don’t ever wanna see these goddamn things again after tonight.”
His vice-like grip on the crotch of your shorts causes a few of the overly taut threads to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way to align the swollen head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole he’s been working so that it’s already ready to take him in. You can feel the tip of his hard girth push against the moist skin before he bucks his hips and it strains through the barrier. His grip moves to your waist to force your body further down on him as you whine, the stretch overwhelming, but divine. 
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, princess? Why you wore these tight fuckin’ things, yeah? Ya tryin’ ta make me take ya like an animal?” he grunts, the feel of your tight, silky walls fluttering around his cock as he fills you full threatening to send him straight to hell. 
“The moment I saw ya in ‘em I thought I was gonna lose control. Been a while since I had ya. That on purpose too?”   
You fall backward against the table, your back arching up off it and your eyes roll back into your head as he pulls you down while slamming the length of his phallus up into you until he reaches the base. He doesn’t give you a moment to gather your sanity and instead snaps his hips into you, the intensity in each stroke causing your body to jolt over the felted surface. 
“Look at me,” he grunts as he reaches out to grab at your chin and pull you back up to him, “look - at - me.”
You’re unable to deny him when he’s thrusting so deep and your eyes open to meet his gaze again. “You’re mine, ya hear?” he breathes the words desperate and firm. “Nobody else can look at ya like this, got it? Nobody.”
His breath hitches a moment as a shudder runs through his cock from the way you tighten around it. “Those boys out there mighta gotten a show tonight, but that’s the last they’ll ever get,” he growls more intensely. “Don’t even want ‘em to think they have a fuckin’ chance wit ya cause you belong ta me. You were made for me, princess. Only me.”
Harder and harder he pounds into your pussy with a need that feels like it cannot be quenched no matter how deep he goes. “And nobody else - nobody else- ya don’t need anyone else ‘sides me. Say it.” 
A pathetic whimper is all he gets in response as his cock digs in deep, but that isn’t good enough. You’re gonna do exactly as he says and repeat it - out loud. His grip around your face tightens.
“Say it,” he demands again. 
“Don’t… need a-anyone…else…” you stammer out as it is a struggle now to speak. 
Then you hear it, the distinct sound of fabric beginning to rip. The seam along the crotch has had too much strain put on it and it is starting to give, threads ripping more steadily the harder Simon thrusts. God, that sound is the catalyst to you suddenly feeling wild, like all you want him to do is shred the fucking things off of you by screwing you out of them. It’s at that moment that familiar warmth begins to gather in your belly. It won’t be long now and you’ll be spilling.
“Say: you’re the only one I fuckin’ want,” he insists as he clenches to make his cock pulse inside of you.
Simon’s wide hand slides down from your chin to just at the base of your throat where he wraps it around and gives it a light squeeze for emphasis. The pressure feels like heaven amongst all the stimulation and trying to keep your eyes on him and speak at the same time is nearly impossible, but find your words soon enough.
You lick your parched lips. “You’re the only one I want, Simon,” you moan.
“Again.”
“You’re the only one I will ever want, Simon.”
Another couple of desperately strong thrusts. “And you’re gonna listen from now on, yeah?”
“Yes!” you blurt out.
He pulls you by the throat so that you meet him in a kiss as his hips never stop snapping into you. “Such a fuckin’ obedient girl for me,” he groans against your mouth as he breaks free from it. “Now, let’s make ya come so ya never fuckin’ forget who it is that ya belong to.”
Releasing your neck, Simon brings his hand down, parting through your dripping lips to find your clit so that he can rub over it as he thrusts. There is not much more you can take now; all his work before has done its job to perfection and your body is falling apart so rapidly it feels like the nosedive off that first ddrop of a rollercoaster. 
“G-gonna… gonna come, baby,” you stammer out. You bring your lips in closer to his, desperate to kiss him again, but the pleasure is just too much to handle that you devolve into simply panting instead. 
He inhales in ragged breaths the sweet air from your mouth, his teeth grinding together the harder he thrusts. All those days without you have been frustrating as he waited for you to come crawling back. He missed the feeling of you wrapped around him and right now he needs you to come on his cock. 
But this isn’t going to teach you what he wants. Pulling out amidst your whined protests, he pulls you off the table onto your feet and spins you around before pushing your upper body down while guiding you to spread your stance wider and ripping the crotch of your pants aside again, this time he doesn’t hesitate to enter you.
From this angle the penetration is even deeper and as his finger finds that tiny bud of nerve endings again, you are right back where you want to be - a mess ready to explode.   
“Come for me.” He is demanding while trying to hold it all together. “Now.”
Harder and harder he pushes, thrusting and stroking, and like the flick of a switch all that heat and all that pressure culminates in an explosion that has you crying out loudly as you come with force, your back arching to pull you away from his grasp. Waves wash through your body as the intensity of your orgasm shakes through you until your legs are vibrating around his hips. 
The moment you cry out he allows himself to let go, finally finished with his task, and fucking you through your orgasm he comes so hard that he has to grab the sides of the pool table to keep himself upright. Grunting like an animal he coats your walls and thrusts his cum continuously back up into you until he is spent and cannot go another second. 
Simon stays inside as you both come back down from that exhilarating high, two glistening bodies conjoined at the forehead with eyes closed until he has enough strength to pull his sensitive cock carefully out of you. Both of your mixed juices follow his cock out, dribbling out of your entrance to collect in the crotch of your pants as they snap back into place now that there is nothing keeping them pushed aside. 
You flip yourself back over and lean against the edge of the table to look down at what’s left of your shorts. They are completely soaked, drenched in so much of your juices that they look wet. The ruined fabric clings to your body as if it’s glued on and you are left feeling cold down there as Simon pulls away.
“That’s better,” he says with satisfaction as he studies his handiwork of the ripped, saturated fabric. “And so is this.”
A more gentle kiss is placed on your lips this time, one in praise of you doing so well for him. You reciprocate the feeling by cupping his face in your hands.
“And we’re not gonna have any more a this, right?” he asks as he pulls from your mouth.
Looking into his eyes, a subtle smirk contours your lips. “We’ll see,” you say as Simon shakes his head.
He wouldn’t expect anything less.
“So,” you continue, “I’m just wondering if you thought about how I’m going to leave here, now that I look like this. Gonna need something so I don’t have to cross base.” 
Across the way he spots a random jacket hanging off the back of a chair, left by one of the privates no doubt. Looks big enough and he returns with it in hand. Carefully he circles the sleeves around your body and ties them in front to cover you until you can get back to your room and change. Don’t need anyone seeing anything they shouldn’t.
“I did really like these by the way,” you pick as Simon pulls you by the knot in the sleeves wrapped around your waist back into him to catch your lips one last time with his.  
“Don’t ya worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna be gettin’ you a new pair, ones that I chose,” he says. “Cause I’m gonna be the only one that gets to enjoy this fuckin’ view from now on. And it’s a view you’re gonna give me ‘gain and again, darlin’.”
391 notes · View notes
tadpolesonalgae · 10 months
Text
Soft!dom!Cassian x reader: On the strategy board[*]
A/N: I didn’t even try with that title, did I? Straight to the point.
Warnings: reader steps through the door after a week long mission and they’re practically on top of one another, sex,,,on the strategy board
Word Count: 2,522
——————————————————————————————————————————————
The scent of home wraps around you, baggage sliding from your shoulders as you allow it to seep into your lungs. Put its hands all over you and infuse itself into your clothes.
Bones are practically aching for him already, having subconsciously blocked off your needs while you were on your week-long mission to make it more bearable. But now it’s all flooding back—a week without your mate. And it’s hitting you hard.
Hastily, you unbuckle the backpack, setting it on the table before going in search of him. You’ve half a mind to simply settle on the floor and take care of yourself right then and there. With how attuned you are to one another’s scents, he’d probably find you in a heartbeat.
You come across his study, finding him stood over his strategy board, a map encased in glass set upon its surface, tiny block carvings scattered across the detailed expanse. His large hands are braced on the edge, leaning over with his brow tight in the middle, staring at the Illyrian mountains, evidently pondering some kind of trouble they’re kicking up.
His wings remain tucked away at his back in concentration, nostrils flaring delicately before hazel keenly cuts to where you’re standing in the doorway. His eyes widen marginally before he’s easing out a deep sigh, shoulders uncoiling from tension and a smile breaks across your lips as he stalks forward. Powerful arms wrap around your waist and shoulders, pulling you into his towering figure as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nosing at the sensitive skin, already pressing light kisses down.
“Gods I missed you,” he breathes on an exhale, palm spanning your hip, keeping you tucked into him as he takes in the familiarity of your scent. You allow it, arms greedily snaking around his waist, keeping away from his wings for the moment, pressing your cheek into the broad expanse of his shoulder. “I missed you too,” you mumble lowly, back arching as he pushes away your hair.
“What were you doing?” You ask as he begins kissing lower, nipping at your collar bones. Calculating brain switching off for a moment to relish in the feel of you against him. He groans over hot skin, biting lightly at the neckline of your top, tugging softly before managing to pull himself away, delivering you his full attention.
“They’re making trouble for me again,” he mutters out, glancing over his shoulder at the strategy board, distaste passing through strained features. Your hand cups his jaw, guiding his gaze back to you as you push up onto your tiptoes, leaning your weight into his chest. “Can I make a little trouble for you, too?”
A low growl rumbles from his throat, and something thick and hard pokes into your stomach, hips digging in as he grips you a little tighter. “You are trouble,” he counters, pulling you flush to his torso, wings cresting at his back, the sharp talons at their peaks gleaming in the daylight. “Is that a yes?” You ask, shifting so your arms lock around the back of his neck, dark hair running between your fingertips.
“Gods yes,” he groans, opening his mouth over your own.
His hot tongue dips between your lips, stroking and flicking against the roof of your mouth as he explores leisurely but with an undercurrent of haste. Hands grip a little tighter, guiding you to that strategy table, calloused palms spreading beneath your thighs as he effortlessly plucks you from the ground, wrapping your legs snug around his hips. Pressing your soft centre to the shape of his cock, straining beneath the damn Illyrian leathers.
“I’ve missed you…so much,” you mumble between kisses, gripping his hair as he tastes you, pressing between your thighs. “Good,” he grits out, raising your top up over your head, throwing it off somewhere, taking the vest with it. “Can’t have you getting tired on me now.” Thumbs graze your peaked nipples, pinching and twisting, and you moan, arcing into his rough touch.
“Cassian,” you groan, his lips moving down to your throat, sucking and biting eagerly. “I need you. Hurry up.”
The male chuckles, a deep rumble from his chest as he raises to stare at you, hazel sharp and piercing. “Who gives the orders here?” He asks rhetorically, a bit of the feared Commander shining through, heat rushing between your legs that subconsciously spread wider. Teeth push into your lower lip as he pinches at your breasts, tugging lightly. “Give me some orders then,” you mumble, ankles crossing at his back, urging him closer.
The smile he offers is soft, but there’s that half-wild pulse beating between you, the bond urging you to devour one another and relish in the intimacies afforded. “Just because I won’t spank you raw now doesn’t mean I won’t do it later,” he replies lowly, pupils dilating as he stares down at you, wings flaring at his back in seductive threat.
But you part your thighs wider, hands lowering to the straps and ties on his leathers. “I’ll be good, General,” you murmur, peering up at him as your fingers work on muscle memory alone. “Just for you.”
Cassian groans, then his mouth reopens over yours, hands fumbling with the band of your trousers, palms snaking around your back, dipping beneath the band and prying them seamlessly from your skin. He swallows your gasp greedily when the cold glass presses icily into the warmth of your bare hind, goosebumps prickling your skin as he steps away to rid you of your clothes, leaving you in the single remaining scrap, clinging to your hips.
Hazel eyes latch with your own, discarding his top, pulling it off over his back having already undone the slats for his wings. His dark, hungry gaze meets yours, not even having to tell you to lay back on the board and spread your thighs before you’re doing it on your own.
Male satisfaction glitters across his features, lips carving themselves into a cocky smirk as he stalks forward. “So obedient when you want something, sweetheart,” he murmurs, hands brushing attentively across the tops of your knees. “If it’s the best way to get it,” you respond breathlessly, needing him to take himself out already and just sink into you before you flood his strategy board.
He shakes his head, chuckling as he works himself free, watching as your eyes drop to his cock, hungry with blow-out pupils. “That mind of yours,” he remarks lowly, gripping himself almost to the point of pain, stroking himself before running through the wetness of your dripping heat. “You love this mind of mine,” you breathe, hips winding, coating him in your slick so he’ll be able to sink in deeper.
Gleaming white teeth bite into his lower lip, hissing lowly as he grinds against you, already feeling the strain and stress dissipating. It does something in his brain, to see you spread out across a map of Prythian, all hot and bothered and messy. Dripping all over his strategy board—he’ll be having you lick that up later, when he has his fist in your hair and bent over the table.
He curses lowly, pressing to your entrance before sliding home, wings shuddering with pleasure as your nails press fully into the muscle of his back. He pulls back to look at you, feeling the heat practically rolling from your body, flaring with fire beneath his touch. “How do you want it?” He breathes lowly, starving hunger dancing a twisted rhythm in his eyes, hips pressed tight to your own, now secured deep inside your hot cunt.
“Your way,” you pant, bucking against him. “Just give it to me Cass.”
He growls, a half-feral sound as his hand splays across your chest, pinning you to the glass, getting off on how your nipples peak from the cold at your back, begging for him to put his teeth over. “We can be rougher later,” he breathes, palm pressing over your sternum, putting heat into your skin. “I need you to feel me feel in here,” he groans, hand dropping to your lower abdomen, pressing lightly, feeling himself move as he draws his hips back and slides in again.
A soundless moan spills from your lips, parting into a shape that on another occasion he’d love to put you on your knees for. He’d forgotten how fuckable your mouth is. How fuckable your cunt it. How fuckable you are in general, always singing for him to take you to his bed and attend to you until you’re soft and pliable beneath his war-roughened palms.
“Did you touch yourself while you were away?” He asks, feeling the hot wetness of your cunt wrapping around him, perfectly hugging him. You manage a shake of your head, fingers dancing in small patterns across the tops of his shoulders, occasionally risking dipping down—closer to his wings.
His large palm slides up between your breasts, carefully holding your throat, directing your attention upward and away from your joining point. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he breathes, hips moving languidly against your own. “Your voice is too pretty to be silent.”
“I— I didn’t…” you pant, clutching on as you grind against him, every sense keyed to his motions, bathing in pleasure.
Again he curses, more viciously than the last time.
A wicked grin twists the edge of his mouth. “At least your learned you lesson after last time,” he gloats lowly, cock pressing in fully, touching a spot inside of you that has you fumbling. “I’d hate to have to put you in those ties again, when you were so lovely and messy for me.”
You moan at his lewd description, heat ravishing your skin as the pace picks up a little, having you tighten around him with each time his cock brushes that spot. “Cassian,” you breathe needfully, reaching further down his back, wanting to urge him on. “Please.”
All plans in his mind are ripped to shreds with that single plea. When your scent had first drifted over to him, he’d had to take a moment to steel himself so he wouldn’t put his hands on you and fuck you into the floor the second he’d laid eyes on you. But then you’d come over to him, smelling so deliciously of arousal and distinctly like yourself he’d crumbled. Now you’re again asking for something, and he can’t find it in himself to deny you.
“Okay,” he groans, releasing you in favour of dropping his palms to your hips, pulling you back as he bucks forward. “Gotta take all of it though,” he drawls, pulse increasing as your scent thickens, arousal seeping into his lungs. “Every last drop. Can you do that for me?”
His hips roll, cock hitting that part that has you going dizzy, lips parting in soft gasps as he puts new heat into your body. Cassian chuckles, keeping the pace steady as he swipes the pad of his thumb over your clit, aching beneath his touch for stimulation, finally satiated. “S’pose it doesn’t matter, does it?” He laughs lowly, circling the sensitive bud. “You’ll take it either way.”
Your eyes nearly roll with pleasure at his words, panting and moaning for him to continue, something hot and syrupy bubbling away in the pit of your belly, having missed him so greatly. “Cass…” you breathe desperately, hands grappling for something to hold onto, feeling like you’re going to be swept away if he doesn’t let you touch him. “Cassian…”
He swears under his breath, low and viciously, releasing your hips in favour of lacing his fingers with your own, holding tight so he can buck against you properly. “That’s it sweetheart,” he groans, hazel piercing down into you. “Mm right here. You’re back now.” The words reach you on a deep sigh, coated in relief and exhaustion but you have no time to wonder what extremities he went to in order to preoccupy his busy mind.
Lips part as heat begins to coil tight, close to release from having gone so long without him, finally reunited after only a week. “Fuck, Cassian,” you cry out, head tipping back, baring your throat and chest for him as you arc from the board, disturbing a small band of warriors, sending them skating across the glass with a jerk.
“That’s it,” he grits out, “take it all. You’re back here with me again.” The demand has you releasing with a cry, nails biting into the brown, scar-flecked skin of his thick knuckles. The orgasm slams into you, taking you clean off your feet as tears build at the edges of your lashes, welling and spilling down onto the now-warm glass.
Cassian can hardly speak, staring at the arch of your spine, how well you’re taking him, the need and release lacing your body, turning you supple and taut in so many different places he hardly knows where to look. It’s enough to send him over the edge, finally allowing himself to temporarily shatter now you’ve reached your peak, free to topple over that edge with you, gripping tight.
Hot spurts of cum spill into you, so much you could swear you feel your tummy swell a little, hips dragging and bucking and grinding against you, eager to put his release deep inside of you, something primal and feral commanding him to fill you up until you’re dripping onto the glass board.
A high-pitched moan greets his ears, soft and sweet and wrapped in honey as it urges him closer to you, his powerful body curving over yours as the aftershocks fade, remaining deep inside as he kisses you thoroughly, mouth open, tongue flicking and stroking. It’s messy and not at all contained, quiet wet sounds squishing between your lips as you enjoy one another, his teeth gently nipping before soothing with his tongue.
You pant into the quiet when he pulls away, large hands cupping your cheeks as he stares down at you.
“Did I tell you I missed you?” He asks breathlessly, skin gleaming with heat, his arousal permeating the air. A wide smile stretches across your bitten, glossy lips. “I think you might’ve at some point,” you murmur, “between kissing me silly minutes within returning home and fucking me on top of your strategy board. We’ve gotten it all messy now.”
The grin he gives you is nothing short of wicked, having you tighten around him. “Cassian, no,” you murmur, trying to keep your smile to yourself. “Both of us need a shower and to clean off.”
He relents, grumbling as he pulls away, creating more of that mess as he spills out, but not before his fingers dip down, pressing it back in, shooting you a cocky look that has heat bursting all over again.
“And you had the nerve to say I was the trouble-maker,” you mutter, awkwardly shifting from the glass, trying not to create more to be cleaned up later.
“You started it,” he reminds lowly, hand squeezing your hind appreciatively. “I finished it.”
——————————————————————————————————————————————
general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover
454 notes · View notes
lincolndjarin · 11 months
Text
Best Kept Secret
chapter twenty six : crucifixion
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧
Tumblr media
pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 12.7k
summary : judgement day.
warnings: major character death, above canon typical violence, very brief references to suicide, torture, body horror (briefly), feelings of despair, blood, wounds, general kodo grossness, vomit (reader vomits several times, it is never described in detail), language, angst, brief smut, pregnancy, death, reader is not doing well in this like she's at a breaking point, i may have missed some so feel free to let me know.
a/n: please read the warnings on this chap! it's the most serious of the bks updates, definitely a bit more intense than the rest. gonna work on getting 27 out within the next few day. i've been terrified of releasing this chapter since i started writing it so once i post this i'm going to dig a hole and sit in it and hide for a while lmao.
i changed my editing style so if there's spelling errors lmk!! apologies in advance!!
“My room is too big.” 
He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.
“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh. You both just laugh for a few minutes, as if each other's company is the most amusing thing in the world. 
Once your giggles fizzle out you wait another moment before breaking the silence. 
“Where did you grow up?” You can’t see him but you can sense where he sits in the darkness, you crawl forward so you’re sitting between his legs, your own legs wrap around his waist. “I’m just curious.” 
“Aq Vetina.” You can’t recall anything about the planet. You aren’t even sure you’ve heard of it. 
“Do you remember your parents well? You don’t talk about them very much.” You put your hands on his shoulders, ever so slowly moving them up to his neck until you’re cupping his face. 
“I’ll never forget them.” He whispers. 
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We can’t change the past.” You rub your nose against his, bumping them together as you hum and nod. “My mother loved ships. We didn’t travel, we never had a reason to, but she would take me outside and we’d watch ships fly past. I could never comprehend how she knew the name for all of them, it blew my mind.” You wrap your arms around his neck, staying silent in hopes that he’ll continue, he so rarely speaks so much. “My father worked a lot but he always made time for us, he was always home in time to say goodnight to me. He was always around when I needed him, he always provided for us. On his day off he’d spend the whole day cooking, I’d sit on the kitchen counter and tell him what my mother and I had done that week. When she’d come home we’d all eat dinner together.” 
“You sound like you were a happy child.” You can’t help but smile. 
“I never had reason to be otherwise.” He says it so matter of factly that you don’t doubt it for a second. He was loved. It only makes you smile wider.         
“What were you like, as a child?”
“Well behaved.” You immediately begin laughing once more. 
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Believe it. My mother homeschooled me, she always made sure I had manners. I wasn’t particularly athletic or talkative so I didn’t play with other kids a lot. It was just me and mama.” He sounds far away, it makes you want to hold him close and never let him go.
“So what did you do all day?” Your tone has softened significantly. 
“I would sew.” 
“Be serious.” He’s the one who laughs now at the disbelief in your voice.
“I am! I would sit with my mother after my lessons and we’d sew.” His fingertips dance along the back of your neck as he reminisces. 
“What kinds of things?” You don’t tease. When you really think about it you suppose such a hobby is fitting for him. A task that requires precision and care. 
“I would help her make clothes and blankets that she would sell most days. On the weekends she’d let me do whatever I wanted so I would practice my embroidery.” 
“My heart is actually about to explode out of my chest, you’re so cute.” You put on a mocking tone but the thought of such a thing really does make your heart clench. “Little Din Djarin stitching his name into his clothes.”
“You’re a cruel woman.” He leans forward, knocking his forehead against yours, almost as if he were reprimanding you. 
“What sorts of things would you embroider?” Your tone goes back to genuine, you could listen to him talk about himself for days and you’d never get bored. 
“Whatever my mother wanted. I would ask her what I should do and then I’d stitch it onto her blanket or the hem of her skirt. Mostly flowers, she loved daisies.” You’re pretty sure one of your ovaries literally popped at the thought of a little boy with dark curls and big brown eyes sitting beside his mother and embroidering a daisy onto her skirt. Your heart flutters a bit as you think of the necklace he got you. The silver outline of a flower you now realize is a daisy. “If he was ever gone for more than one night for work my father would bring her daisies, one for each day he was away.”
“Do you still know how?”
“I used to fix Grogu’s clothes when he ripped them but I haven’t done much else since I was a boy. He says it with finality but you carry on, not wanting him to stop talking. 
“What were their names? Your parents?”
“Clara and Arin Djarin.”  
“Those are pretty names.”
“What was it like for you? You said you had seven siblings right?”
“Eight actually.” You think of them now. There were eight of you and your parents' love for all of you combined wasn’t even a tenth of how much Din’s parents loved him. 
“Do you like having a big family?” He lifts you off of his lap, laying you back down as he crawls on top of you, laying against your chest. 
“I love it. I miss my siblings everyday, do you think we’ll be able to visit them someday?”
“If it’s safe to, of course we will.” He tilts his head, if you weren’t in darkness he’d be looking at you. 
“I wish they had visited here. They would have loved you.”
“You think?”
“Are you kidding me? The younger ones would adore you.” You tangle your finger in his hair, scratching his scalp. “Kids just naturally like you.” 
“They just haven’t learned to fear me.” You frown when he says it like a fact.
“I think it’s more than that.”
“Yeah?” The hopeful tilt to his voice has you leaning down to press a kiss into his hair. 
“Kids are intuitive, they can sense that you’re a good person.” He tenses up as you tell him he’s a good person. You know exactly what he’s thinking about now, how he punched your husband and then refused to leave. 
Neither one of you wants to talk about that though, not today. 
“What kind of room would you want? Since your current room isn’t to your liking.” He’s quick to change the subject and you let him.
“In all honesty, I like the cabin, I wish we could just live there.” You run your fingers through his curls as you think about it, gently pulling through any tangles.
“My cabin?” His voice is full of uncertainty as he pulls back a bit.
“It’s nice.” You feel a bit defensive, you consider the cabin to be the closest thing you have to a home. “Can you imagine getting to stay on Naboo? We could spend our mornings walking the market.” You rest your hand on the back of his neck now. “We could get jobs in the city, and then at night we’d come home.” 
“To the cabin?” He still sounds rather skeptical of your hypothetical future. 
“I’d cook dinner, you’d do the chores.”
“The cabin’s a bit small for us.” 
“We’d make it a bit bigger, add a few bedrooms, we don’t need that much space.” 
“A few?” He turns his head, his lips brush against your collar briefly as he kisses you there, freezing up when you speak again. 
“At least two, one for us and then some for any little Djarin’s who might need space.” With that he sits up entirely, his legs straddle your stomach.
“Little Djarin’s?”
“And Grogu, he would come live with us as well.” 
“You’d want him to live with us?”
“Of course, he’s a little Djarin.” Your hands rest on his thighs now as he seemingly ponders above you. He hums to himself in silence for a moment and you can’t help but grin at how seriously he’s taking all of this. 
“How many?” He finally speaks again and you laugh at the bluntness of his question. 
“Kids?”
“How many would you want?”
“You go first.” You haven’t ever talked about this sort of thing so you want to gauge his answer first so you don’t scare him too much with all the kids talk. 
“Maybe five? Or six.”
“Six?” Your voice pitches up immediately and you feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs. 
“Or five.”
“How about two, counting Grogu.” Turns out you didn’t need to worry about scaring him off. 
“How about three?” Three is manageable. 
“Counting Grogu?” 
“Counting Grogu.” He seems satisfied with that. 
“I suppose we could have three, you’re the one who has to build all the extra bedrooms.” 
“I don’t mind.”
“I’d work at the library and you’d work in a shipyard, we’d take turns staying home with the kids.” You pull him back to you, taking his hands and dragging him to lay his head on your chest once more.
“I’ve got enough savings, neither one of us has to work if you’d like.” It sends a twinge of pain to your heart how real this conversation has become, knowing that this exact dream isn’t possible. 
You could always make parts of it real.
Someday. 
“I’d want to work, to get out of the house, but you could stay home if you’d like.”
“When they’re still ik’aad, at least for the first few years I’d want to be with them.” He’s going to be a wonderful father. 
“Then I’d work, not long hours, just enough to get me out of the house, when I come home I’d give you a break, you could do the shopping and I’d watch the little’s.” 
“We’d go as a family, I wouldn’t want ‘a break.’” 
“You’d want to wrangle three kids in the markets?” You scoff in disbelief but he continues to sound completely serious. 
“They’d be well behaved.” You seriously doubt that. 
“What about either one of us makes you think our children will be well behaved? Is Grogu well behaved?” 
“We’ll manage.”
“They’ll be wild.” They will, not they would. 
“And smart.” He sits up again, hovering above you to give you a quick kiss. 
“And happy.” There isn’t a doubt in your mind that your children would be happy with Din as their father. 
“You’d really want to live here? I could build us a house anywhere.”
“I like Naboo, at least everything outside of the castle. I don’t even mind the castle, I just don’t care for the people inside it.” It’s true, somewhere along the way this place grew on you immensely. You love the city and the people in it. “And they’d get to play in the garden.” 
“I would build you a cabin anywhere you wanted, and I’d plant you a new garden.” He kisses along your cheeks and forehead as he speaks. 
“You wouldn’t need to plant me a garden if we lived here.” You insist. 
“We can’t live here, mesh’la.” He rubs a small circle with his thumb against your cheek. “This is too serious now, we’re supposed to be relaxed today.”
“When did we agree on that?” You muster up a weak laugh. 
“It was a silent mutual agreement.”
“I’m plenty relaxed.” You mumble. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling you as you let out an airy giggle. 
“I’m actually very tense and I think we should take a break from all this talking and take care of that.” He mumbles against your shoulder.
“Oh?”
“Mhmm.” He emphasizes his point by pressing his erection against your hip, you hadn’t even realized that this is where he was going with that. 
“How long have you been waiting to jump me?”
“When we started talking about the five kids I was gonna put in you.” He continues to nip at your neck and shoulders as he speaks. 
“Skipping the agreed upon three and going straight to five already? You’re not even going to attempt to negotiate for four?” 
“So you’re open to four?” He pulls back and you can hear his smile. 
“Let’s start with one and go from there.”
“Right now?” His hips stutter down a bit against yours. 
“Maker, you’re insatiable.” You both burst into another fit of laughter. 
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“I could get pregnant, and considering the lack of sex I’ve had with my husband I’m sure that might raise a few eyebrows.” 
“It would never get to that point, when we’re in the clear with this whole Kodo mess I’m getting you out of here.”
“Like… actually leaving Naboo?” 
“Exactly like that. I’m gonna take you far away from here when this is over, gonna keep you all for myself.” His hands move down, giving your hips a squeeze. 
“I’m already yours.” You laughed, rolling over to be on top of him. He’s right, if you’re going to leave anyway then what’s the worst thing that could happen? 
You never talked about that night after that. 
When everything sorted itself out you realized how crazy your fear had made you. You couldn’t just leave. At least that’s what you’d told yourself, now you feel like an idiot for not holding him to his words. It wasn’t realistic, you both knew actually leaving would take so much more preparation than a few whispered ideas during a time where neither one of you was in any position to be making such promises. 
It was just talk.
Lysa came to get you from the dining room. 
After everyone left you had no motivation to move, you just stood there, frozen in time. After a few hours she found you, she had taken your hand and walked you back to your chambers. She held your hand, she kept you upright when you threatened to crumble. And when you felt a wave of nausea ripple through you she rushed you to the fresher, a hand on your back as you threw up all over again. 
You sat breathlessly on the tile, Lysa rubbing your back.
“Gods, I’ve been nauseous since the wedding. Even before everything fell apart.” It’s the first words you’ve spoken since they took Din, your stomach is still churning. “This has never happened before.” You groan, you’ve had many moments of upset throughout your life, but none that made you physically ill. Lysa looks almost painfully worried. 
“Ma’am… is there a chance you might be…” 
Kriff.
You never talked about that night after that. 
Maybe you should have. 
You both did a lot of things during those days. You had been so angry, and he had done everything in his power to ease that anger, to keep both of you as happy as someone could be in your situation. 
You shouldn’t have used that as an excuse to be reckless. 
“I’d like to go to bed.” 
“Of course.” She helps you to your feet, walking you back to your room, you turn to her one last time before you close the door. 
“I’m sorry. Elaine never should have gotten involved in all this.” You’d trade places with her in a heartbeat if you could. 
“It’s not your fault.” She truly seems to believe that. 
Except it is. Elaine never would have found herself in this situation if she hadn’t so often been helping the two of you keep your secret. 
“Goodnight, Lysa.” 
“Goodnight, princess.” 
You lay on the bed, unable to bring yourself to sleep in the closet. 
It’s cold. Colder than Hoth, as you stare at the ceiling in your far too big bed in your far too big room. Even bigger now that it’s just you. 
You let your hand roam down your torso to rest on your stomach.
Just you, hopefully. 
You’re now having nightly dinners with Kodo. 
You don’t get any respite from him, you just want to stay in bed. You’re nauseous and tired and your head hasn’t stopped spinning since that night. A million thoughts a minute. 
Where is he?
Is he okay?
What the fuck can I do about it?
Mostly that. 
The worst part is your lack of a plan. If the roles were reversed Din would have already rescued you and you’d be living happily ever after. 
But that isn’t how your story is going. Instead you are alone, with no scheme on how to get to him. It’s only been three days but it’s driving you insane, you have never known such hopelessness, it’s maddening. To sit alone in your room all day, staring at the ceiling until Lysa comes to dress you for dinner. Neither one of you ever speaks, afterall, what would you say to each other?
“I’m sorry the love of your life had been sentenced to die?”
How morbid. 
Not that you’re above being morbid. 
You think about it often. How easy it would be to drive your dinner knife into Kodo’s throat. You’re seated beside him now at dinner, both of you at the head of the table, joined by the rest of his family. 
The thought of killing him is the only thing that brings you peace these days. You’ve never once in your life been violent until now. Din is good. He’s a good man. In every way he is the opposite of your husband yet Din is the one locked away, Maker knows where, while Kodo is being rewarded. 
It doesn’t make you mad, it makes you furious. 
It makes you want to poison his wine. 
But you don’t have poison. 
And you can’t put yourself in danger. Because you feel fundamentally different, and even if you refuse to think that such a thing is possible you know you wouldn’t just be putting yourself in danger. There’s more at stake now. 
That’s what you tell yourself to stay calm, a feat that is getting harder by the minute as you’re sat beside Kodo who is currently bragging about how he defeated a Mandalorian. 
“They aren’t as strong as you think they are. Under the armor they’re weak, pathetic.” 
It took six battle droids to keep him down. You didn’t even get near him. 
“Some people just need to be taught a lesson, don’t touch what isn’t yours.” He sneers and the rest of the table erupts into laughter. “I certainly taught that horned bitch a lesson as well, you all should have seen what they brought me last night.” 
You perk up, this is the only thing they’ve said in days that truly matters to you. You’ve heard nothing about the current state of either of them until now. 
“What did they do to Elaine?” Everyone’s head turns to you, all their expressions look as if you’ve announced something treasonous but Kodo smiles as if he were explaining something to a child. 
“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” He puts his hand over yours when he says it. 
You don’t ask for any follow up. 
You don’t think you could stomach it, so you stay silent for the rest of your meal. When you’re finished you stand, the rest of the table is starting to pour more drinks but you simply lean down, mumbling something about being tired before giving Kodo a quick kiss on the cheek and dismissing yourself. 
You’re waiting for the night where he joins you in your chambers, after all his father is dead, but it has yet to happen. He had told you that once he was king he would be in need of heirs but he seems happy enough with his pleasure houses and you’re more than grateful for the women you entertain him so you don’t have to. 
So you return to your chambers alone, peeling off your gown before burying yourself under the covers. 
Sleep evades you as you toss and turn. You aren’t even tired, there’s too much going on in your mind, there’s no room for exhaustion. After about an hour you manage to drift in and out of unconsciousness, earning a brief reprieve from your anxieties until a sharp knocking has you jolting upright. 
You don your robe, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you rush to the door, you’re too tired to wonder who might even be bothering you at such an hour as you pull the door open. 
Lysa?
“We have to hurry, ma’am.” She grabs your arm, frantically tugging you into the hall. 
“Lysa? What are you doing? Are you okay?” 
“I am fine, but we don’t have much time.”
“Surely you have enough to tell me where we are going.” 
“Do you want to see him or not?” 
Din.
You nod, taking her hand as he rushes onward, stopping at each hall to peer around the corners until you make your way to a servants stairwell, skipping several steps in your descent until you run out of stairs. You’ve never been down here, you didn’t even know there were dungeons until recently. 
It makes your stomach twist in knots the moment you stare into the darkness. 
“Are there no guards?” You whisper, squeezing her hand.
“Not for the next hour, I’ve made sure of it.” She begins walking down the poorly lit corridor, pulling you along behind her. 
The stone floor is damp and it smells of mildew. Your bare feet are already freezing after just a few steps.
Every cell you pass is lit from the outside with a hanging lantern, they’re mostly empty, but you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye every now and then. In all honesty you’re doing your best to take in as little as possible, you don’t want to think about Din being down here in such a place, but there’s one element you can’t ignore. 
The wailing. 
Someone is weeping, a low, sorrowful song filling the vast maze of halls and you realize quickly you’re heading in its direction, Lysa tenses beside you as you continue on. You’re about to turn one more corner when she abruptly stops, turning to face you.
“He needs to eat.” She removes a fistful of rations from her apron pocket, shoving them into your hands. 
“He hasn’t?” He’s been down here for three days. 
“He won’t… let me.” You pause, cocking your head to the side and she gives you an apologetic look when she turns. “He won’t let me uncover his face.”
Oh. 
“I’ll feed him.” You nod slowly, tucking them into your own pockets before turning the corner. The contents of the cell immediately on your right have you stumbling backwards but Lysa is not swayed, pulling a key from her pocket, unlocking the door quickly before handing it to you. 
“He’s two cells down, on your right.” She doesn’t look at you as she rushes in, pulling a roll of bandages from her dress. “Shh… it’s okay, I’m here.” Her voice goes soft as she kneels beside Elaine. You can’t help it as you step into the entryway of the cell. 
Well, you’ve found the source of the wailing. 
She’s sat on a cot, curled in on herself as Lysa carefully peels back a series of soiled bandages from her face. 
“I’ve got you, it’s just me.” She continues to make an attempt to sooth a rather hysterical Elaine as she peels back the final layer of bandages and your stomach flips. “You’re okay, love, I need to change these.” You don’t know how Lysa is so calm, even in the darkness you can see the extent of her wounds. Now you know what they brought Kodo last night.  
Both eyes. 
“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” 
Oh gods. 
You’re worried you may collapse as you watch Lysa tend to her with no hesitation, cleaning them with a careful hand before she begins to redress them. You can’t bear to watch any longer as Elaine begins sobbing once more. You try desperately to force the sight of your mutilated friend from your mind as you count down two more cells before quickly fumbling for the lock, letting it hit the floor as you take the lantern outside the door off its hook, bringing it into the dark room. 
It isn’t like Elaine’s cell. 
There’s no bed or interior light, it’s terribly dark and fetid, his cell running deeper than her’s. It takes a few steps for you to finally illuminate the room enough to see him. 
Maker. 
What have they done to your Din? 
You don’t hear Elaine anymore, there isn't a single thing that could distract you from the scene in front of you. There is nothing but the sight of your kar’ta. There’s too much for you to worry about, you don’t even know where to start, you’re frozen in place, a small part of your brain refuses to recognize the man before you as Din at all. He shouldn’t look like this. 
Armorless. 
They’ve stripped him of any clothing you recognize, the thought alone makes you nearly lose your dinner. 
They took his helmet, replacing it with a linen sack.  
Did they see his face?
You briefly have to shut your eyes, taking a deep breath as you take in the rest of him. His clothes are too thin, he must be freezing, they’ve dressed him in a cotton tunic and trousers that end just below the knee. You can see just how beaten and bruised he is. Unlike Elaine he’s in chains, kneeling on the floor with his hands shackled, taut above his head. You swallow the lump in your throat and finally crouch down in front of him, setting the lantern down beside you as you reach out to place a hand on his chest.
“Din…” Your voice cracks and the moment you come in contact with him he flinches back. Suddenly you know how Lysa held it together so well with Elaine, she just had to. You can’t fall apart, who would care for him now if you did? “It’s me, just me. Just me.” You whisper and place a hand over his heart but withdraw it quickly when he trembles under your touch. You ache at the sight of it but more than anything you’re confused, it only takes a moment for you to realize the issue. 
He doesn’t have his helmet. They’ve not only left him here blind, but deaf, of course any touch would frighten him. 
He assumes you're here to harm him. 
You lean in, careful not to come in contact with him as you speak clearly and loudly. 
“Din?” His trembling stops instantly. You find it a bit troublesome how much worse his hearing seems to have gotten in such a short time, you’re half tempted to reach under the bag to make sure he still has his ears. 
“Sarad?” Oh, Din. His voice is terribly small and it sends you forward, wrapping your arms around him as you pull him into an unreciprocated embrace. 
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You make sure to speak loud enough for him before pulling back, placing your hands against the fabric covering his face. 
“Are you okay?” He coughs a bit as he asks and you almost laugh at how ridiculous the question is considering the state he’s in. Are you okay? 
Technically no. 
But far better than he’s doing. 
“I’m perfectly fine, what can I do for you? Are you hurting?” You feel his face through the bag as you look down across his body. It doesn’t look like there’s been any permanent damage outside of a pretty nasty cut on one of his legs. 
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Now’s not the time to play the hero, Din.” He flinches a little and you calm your tone immediately. What the hell did they do to him? “Just let me help.”
“How’d you get down here?” 
“Lysa, she says you aren’t eating.” 
“She’d have to lift my- the bag to do it.” He sounds apologetic, as if you could ever fault him for following his creed. 
“It’s okay… may I?” You bring your hands to the hem of the bag but his head turns sharply.
“I- I don’t want you to look.” 
You have no response. He’s always wanted you to look. 
“I just, I don’t think you wanna see the condition I’m in. I don’t want your only memories of my face to be this.” He whispers when you don’t respond.
You should have looked when he asked you to. You should have done a lot of things differently. 
You shouldn’t have waited so long to look. 
You shouldn't have waited so long to tell him you loved him. 
You should have just let yourself love him. Why did you fight it for so long? It seems silly now. If you could do it all again you would have just taken his helmet off the first night you met him and you would have married him right then and there. You would have left Naboo that night.
And you would never keep any of it from him. You would tell him how important he is and how loved he is, you wouldn’t make him wait. 
Even now you can’t help it though, censoring yourself out of fear. Do you tell him about how nauseous you get every morning? About the way Lysa stares at your belly when she does your makeup? 
No. 
It wouldn’t do either of you any good, not when he’s in this situation. 
You take hold of the edges of the bag once more, gentler this time. 
“I’ll close my eyes.” You lift the fabric completely off of him, setting it in your lap as you simultaneously shut your eyes. You keep one hand on his face, using your thumb to find the corner of his mouth as your other hand fumbles to open a ration bar. You feel him part his lips as you feed him. He’s barely chewing, eating quickly and swallowing most of it whole. “Have they fed you at all?” You whisper as he finishes the first bar in a matter of seconds, his teeth lightly scraping against your fingers before you withdraw them, tearing open another bar.
“No.” His voice is still soft as you go to feed him once more, opening each package until he’s eaten them all. 
“Are you still hungry? I could see if Lysa has more.” 
“I’m okay.” You let your head fall forward, resting your forehead on his. 
“What else can I do for you?” 
“Nothing. Being here is enough.” 
If you had felt helpless before it was nothing compared to this. This is more than helplessness, it’s despair. 
“I’m sorry.” You pull yourself further into his lap, wrapping your arms around him in the process. 
“Hey… none of this is your fault.” It certainly feels like it is. Why does he keep comforting you when he’s the one shivering and alone down here? 
“Please, there has to be something I can do to help you.” 
“There is one thing.” You almost open your eyes, you're so relieved, you just want to ease his pain. 
“Anything. I’ll do anything.” 
“I need you to promise me you won’t look.”
“Won’t look?” Your eyes are already closed, you couldn’t look any less if you tried. 
“When they do it. I don’t want you to see it- it won’t be pretty.”
When they separate his head from his body. 
“I won’t.” You can’t deny him this, you’ll give him anything he wants. “Do you know how much I love you?” You whisper before leaning forward another inch to kiss him. 
The question is genuine. It terrifies you to your core to think that he may not know just how much you love him. 
“Of course sarad.” He murmurs against your lips until you let your head rest on his shoulder, fighting back tears. 
What do you say now?
What do you say to a man condemned to death? 
“I love you.” You mumble into the thin fabric of his tunic. 
“I love you too.” After a moment more with him you hear metal jingling as Lysa locks Elaine's cell once more. You quickly pull back from him, pulling the bag back over his head, once you know he can’t see you anymore the tears flow freely. Lysa steps into the cell and you remove your robe, wrapping it around him, immediately he begins to protest. 
“Mesh’la, you can’t leave this here.” His voice is strained and it makes you sick to think he started crying once he was out of sight as well. 
“Please, y-you’re gonna freeze.”
“They’ll know you were here, sarad’ika.” 
“Din…” You’re practically babbling as Lysa removes your robe from his shoulders, an apologetic look on her face as she grabs your arm. 
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we need to go.” Tears sting your eyes as Lysa urges you to hurry but you don’t want to leave him, you want to stay, no matter the consequence. You pull away from her, wrapping your arms around his torso. 
“You need to go.” His voice is urgent through the fabric as you cling to him tighter. 
Would it be easier to just stay? Get caught and join him at the executioners? You’re genuinely considering it when you feel your stomach churn once more and you’re reminded of the exact reason why you can’t stay. Before you lose your nerve and shatter completely you lift the bag, just enough to give you an eyeful of his split lip and bruised jaw as you gently lean in and kiss him one more time. 
Doing everything in your power to remember exactly what it feels like.
The curve of his lips and the shape of his chin, the overgrown stubble brushing against your skin as you press your face harder against his, desperation taking over as you taste salt on his lips. You hold him as long as you can, until you hear Lysa urging you to make haste once more. 
“I love you.” You press your forehead to his through the fabric, feeling the familiar shape of his face against yours. 
“I’ll always be yours.” 
That was the last thing he was able to say before you let Lysa drag you out of the dungeons. 
It’s like everythings suddenly back to the beginning. 
You wake up alone, you go to bed alone, and you wander the castle alone.
There is no plotting or scheming to free Din. 
Even if you were a trained killer or bounty hunter, it would be more than difficult to get him out of the dungeon and on a ship off Naboo. It would be even harder to do so when you’re one of the most recognizable people on the planet. 
He is buried deep beneath the ground and there is nothing you can do about it. 
After all, you're just a doll. 
You don’t know when it happened but all your clothes are blue again. Every dress Lysa fetches from the closet is a different shade of blue and all your nightgowns are the color of the sky. A personal brand put on you by Kodo. It’s clearly more than just a preference now, it’s a reminder to you and everyone else that you’re his. 
And time blends. 
You know a date was set right around the time you visited him. One week until Kodo’s coronation and two until the execution. His first public event after being crowned king will be a death sentence, how fitting. 
So you wake. 
And you sleep. 
And you walk. 
Kodo never replaces Din and you haven’t seen Leo since that night, so you’re completely alone. It’s like he’s rubbing in the fact that you’re powerless. There’s no need for you to have a guard, you can’t leave. If you tried you’d be escorted back in an instant. 
You tried to convince Lysa to let you see him again last night. 
“Please, just a few minutes-“
“I’m sorry ma’am, it’s just not possible. The only reason I was able to get you down there the first time was because the guard that usually lets me in was working nights, he won’t be working nights again until next month.”
Din won’t live to see next month. 
“Is he eating?”
“He won’t let me-“
“You need to insist. Tell him I insist, and tell him you’ll close your eyes.” 
She pins back a bit of your hair, leaving half up and half down. You both bask in the silence for a moment.
“I’ll make sure he eats.”
“Thank you.”
That had been the last conversation you had with Lysa. 
She doesn’t come to dress you in the morning. You think nothing of it and dress yourself in the gown she’d laid out last night. It’s a bit difficult, putting your coronation gown on on your own but eventually you manage, when you’re fully dressed in the obscenely decadent blue fabric you begin to worry. 
You have no reason to assume that everything is fine. It would actually make sense for this to be a worst case scenario situation, everything else in your life is right now. 
You’re about to leave in search of her but you decide against it. Sitting at the vanity and doing your makeup as quickly as possible, the last thing you need to do right now is give Kodo a reason to be upset with you, you have to be presentable. You smear the shimmering blue eyeshadow across your lids before rushing out of your room. 
The halls are full. Servants move quickly from room to room, cleaning every inch as you carefully push through the crowds, making a beeline towards the dining room. 
Kodo is seething when you push open the large doors. 
He stands at the end of the table, shoving an armored guard as the veins in his neck jut out in his rage. 
“Where could she have possibly gone? She’s blind. You’re telling me some blind bitch outsmarted my entire guard?” 
Your heart flutters at the thought.
They escaped.
Your hope is shattered the moment Kodo begins speaking again.
“At least we still have the Mandalorian… I want security tripled, guards stationed outside his cell at all times.” He continues grumbling for a moment until he realizes you’re there. “Happy coronation day dear wife! I’m afraid we’ve had a rough morning here, somehow in the night the Togruta girl escaped, do not fret, we’ll find her.” 
God's you hope not.
Even if things are worse than ever regarding Din there is one flicker of light in that darkness. Lysa got Elaine out. Knowing that almost puts you at ease.
“Happy coronation day.” You actually manage a smile when you look at your husband, it’s weak but it’s genuine. You want to be mad that they didn’t help Din escape but you just can’t be. You know they most likely tried but if the roles had been reversed and you could only get one of them out you wouldn’t hesitate. 
So there is no animosity. Just a flicker of happiness for them.
They got out.
You were under the impression that a coronation was a happy event. Yet when you step out onto the castle steps it seems to be quite the opposite. 
They look miserable. 
All of their faces are sullen and dejected. How shocking, no one is excited about Kodo being crowned king. He didn’t have any of the outside of the castle decorated or made presentable in any way. No one reacts when Kodo reads from an ancient looking book until a crown is placed on his head. 
A moment afterwards you’re instructed to kneel and a tiara is placed onto your head. 
The audience is silent and you feel shame when you stare out at them.
Even if you don’t have very much power you still feel as if you’ve failed them. The feeling follows you when you’re directed to the dining hall with Kodo.
“I have a couple gifts for you, wife.” His twisted smile makes your stomach turn as you enter the dining hall, now decorated with blue and gray banners.  
“A gift? You shouldn’t have, my king, I- I didn’t get you anything.” You feign remorse as you take a sip of the wine in front of you on instinct before spitting it back up into the cup. 
“That’s more than okay, you’re my gift, sweet wife, all mine.” The thought of such a thing makes you sick, you smile despite yourself. 
“That’s very kind.” You’ll only ever be Din’s. No amount of blue fabric and faux smiles can change that. He snaps his fingers and a large box is brought to you by a servant, they set it directly in front of you on the table. You look at Kodo who nods, sitting back in his chair as you stand, the box is wrapped in checkered blue paper, a large bow adorning the top. Your hands tremble a bit as you take hold of the edges of the ribbon, tugging on them until the bow slips free, much to your surprise the entire box falls open, the sides collapsing giving you an immediate view of the contents. 
The silver, shimmering contents. 
Din’s helmet. 
Polished like new, it sits before you, and the room suddenly empties. It’s as if you are completely alone, despite all the eyes that are most definitely pinned on you right now. Your hands continue to shake as your fingers wrap around the beskar steel, like you would when you held Din’s face, lifting it to glare into the visor. 
Empty. 
You can’t help but stare at your own emptiness reflected back at you. 
You want to hold it close, press it to your forehead but you’re snapped back to reality by the grating sound of Kodo’s voice breaking you from your focus on the helm between your hands. 
“That’s only one of your presents, open the next one.” He hisses gleefully. 
You set the helmet down, realizing there was another, much smaller box underneath it. Silently you scoop it up and cradle it in your hands. It’s a larger than a ring box, it just barely fits in your palm as you ever so gently open it, swinging the top open as if it were a tiny treasure chest.              
Huh.
It takes a moment.
You aren’t exactly sure what it is you’re looking at at first but when it registers your entire body tenses up, your grip tightening on the gift box. 
Bloody and pink, a tongue. 
Of course you know better than to assume Kodo would give you any old tongue. This is a special someone’s tongue. 
No, no, no, no, no. 
You had loved his tongue before anything else.
He can’t do this, he cannot do this to you.
You had fallen for his sharp wit first, it was what drew you into him. His sweet words had won you back, his declaration of devotion.
Now you hold all of that in the palm of your hand. 
“What do we say?” His nasally voice breaks through your mental anguish. 
No.
“Come on, where are your manners?”
Please. 
“Thank you.” Your whisper is nearly silent as you struggle to keep down the scream bubbling in your throat.
“What was that?” 
You clear your throat. 
“Thank you.” 
He makes you take it with you. You don’t bother telling him you won’t be attending the coronation ball in a few minutes, it’s not like you’ll be missed. 
In one arm you’re cradling his helmet, in the other the little blue box. 
You set each one down carefully onto the bed, even if it’s a bit demented these are the only parts of him you have left. You stare at the little box. 
You have never been hateful. 
Kodo made you into this. You are full of hate, for most things at this point. You hate your husband, you hate your room, and most of all you hate the little blue box on the bed. 
And the music starts. 
It must be deafening in the hall for you to hear it from your room but it’s there, loud and demanding of your attention. 
You’re moving before you even have a chance to think about it, in a few quick strides you’re standing beside the vanity, your hands gripping the top of the mirror as you pull it down in one swift motion, the contents spill everywhere and the glass shatters in an instant, shards splattering the floor but you take no time to process it. 
You move on to the next thing.
You yank each drawer from the dresser, throwing them to the floor, clothes strewn about until it’s light enough for you to push the entire dresser over. In your frenzy you go about the room toppling every stupid fucking table over. So many fucking end tables in  one room, and you throw everyone to the floor, trinkets and vases clattering to the ground as you destroy the room. You get a rush of adrenaline as you lift one of your nightstands and throw it against the wall leaving a small dent but more importantly the force of it makes anything hanging on the wall tumble to the floor, glass frames shatter. 
Your chest heaves as you stare at the carnage.  
And it isn’t enough.
Your face is wet with tears and your hands with blood from cuts you didn’t feel upon your skin as you tear open the closet door, the pile of blankets mock you from the floor, you grab them, your vision now blurry with tears as you pull them out of the closet, throwing them onto your bedroom floor. When you return to the closet you’re in a frenzy, you tear at the fabric before you, yanking each and every dress off their hangers, ripping what you can.
There is nothing else for you to do, so you destroy everything you can get your hands on until the only thing left untouched is your bed, left in pristine condition as you let out a small sob. 
Maybe you are a hateful person now. 
You feel as though you have every right to be at this point. 
You step over the shard of glass, giving your bloody hands a glance before wiping them on your gown.
Happy coronation day. 
You sit on the bed, your trembling fingers wrap around the helmet, now that you’re alone you waste no time to hold it against you face, until your body just gives up, too tired to stay awake anymore.
A guard wakes you in the morning, knocking on your door, when you answer it they tell you Kodo requires your presence in his chambers.
You dress in a blue gown that you don’t look too closely at. Stopping at the fresher on the way, rinsing the dried gore from your palms, wincing as you clean your wounds. None of which seem too deep. 
You want to cut Kodo’s tongue out, to make him feel it. But you know that sort of thing would be an impossible task. So you daydream about it as you walk. You’re more than displeased when you open the door and are greeted by Leodall. You hadn’t seen him since that night and from the looks of it he wasn’t expecting you. He swallows loudly when you step inside Kodo’s room.
Normally you’d be curious, you’d probably take a look around but your eyes refuse to focus on anything but Leo as you scowl at him. 
“Why’d you do it?” You don’t hesitate to ask, you have no idea how quickly Kodo will be joining you. 
He simply stares at you, shame apparent on his face.
“You owe me an explanation at the very least.” You cross your arms in front of your chest as he clears his throat. 
“I thought he’d reward me.”
You laugh. A harsh dry sound 
“What could he have possibly given you that you couldn’t have just asked me for?” Your gaze never softens and you’re practically seeing red as you stare at him.
“I thought he’d give me a lordship.” 
You can’t help it as another crisp and pained laugh slips past your lips. 
“You thought Kodo would raise your status? I thought you were supposed to be smart.” Is he an idiot? “He doesn’t see servants as people, if you wanted such a thing you could have asked me, maybe I could have done something.” 
A glimmer of something similar to hope flashes through his eyes. 
“Would you- would you consider doing so now?”
“You cannot be serious-” Your expression goes from fury to disbelief as you stand. 
“It seemed worth asking.” He puts his hands up defensively as you storm up to him, poking a finger into his face. 
“You slimy little weasel, it should be you on the chopping block, not him. If it were up to me I’d have them put your head on a spike.” The words pour out of you like venom. 
“I would be nicer to me if I were you.” He sneers and your incredulity only grows. You can’t help it, you scoff in his face. 
“I would rather die.” A part of you really means it. 
“You might if you aren’t careful, I saved your life by letting Elaine and your Mandalorian take the fall, I could have told the king that you were a willing participant. I saw the two of you together, I read your little rules. He never forced himself on you. I wonder what Kodo might think about that.” You aren’t a fighter, you’ve never so much as thrown a punch in your life but you grab him by the collar of his shirt and slam him into the wall, the back of his head hits the stone and you don’t feel an ounce of remorse as you do so. 
“Do it.” You tilt your head to the side, almost as if you’re taunting him. “Tell him.” Any of the confidence he briefly had is gone in an instant. “The moment you do I’ll tell him that you’re covering your tracks, and that you made a pass at me. I wonder how Kodo would reward you for trying to touch what’s his?” Leo’s head turns as you both hear Kodo’s piercing voice in the hall. You release your grip on his shirt, brushing off your gown as you turn towards the door. Kodo and three others make their way into the room as Leo coughs behind you. 
“Dear wife, I have another gift for you.” He takes a step to the side, gesturing at a line of three people you don’t give so much as a glance. He doesn’t even seem to notice the obvious tension in the room. “A new staff!”
“I don’t need a new staff, I’m fine on my own.” You abandon the pleasantries. You’re in such a state of upset right now, what's the point? 
“You’re the queen now, staff is required. These three will replace the ones you've lost in a week, until then Leodall will be training them intensively to tend to your every need. Two guards will also be assigned to you but I promise they will be much less loathsome than your Mandalorian.”
All five of them will be trained to keep an eye on you. To report back to Kodo, after everything with Din you should have known he’d keep you on a shorter leash. 
You barely look at them. 
You hate them. 
You shouldn’t, they’ve done nothing wrong, but you hate them. 
You give each one a quick up and down, naming them in your mind. 
A BD-3000 droid commands the most authority just based on how she stands so you mentally note her as Elaine's replacement. You’ll call her new Elaine. 
New Lysa is a pasty young blonde woman with rosy cheeks. You truly wonder how well informed she has been on your circumstance. She’s smiling from ear to ear and seemingly couldn’t be happier to be here. 
And new Leo is somehow even more nervous looking than actual Leo, practically shaking like a leaf at the sight of you. The bags under his eyes are worse than your own. A lanky thing with messy brown hair. 
There’s no reason for you to fight this, Kodo always gets his way so why bother. So you nod. You don’t pretend to be grateful this time, instead you shove your way past all of them, content to return to your room and never leave. 
The morning of the execution comes before you’re ready for it. 
Of course you didn’t sleep last night, how could you?
You dress yourself, apparently your new staff isn’t starting until tomorrow, not that you mind another day to yourself. You manage to find something that isn’t blue, a gray dress trimmed with gold, the closest thing you’ll find to funeral attire. No one else will dress with any respect for him but they can’t stop you. Your vanity is destroyed so you don’t bother with your hair or your makeup, you simply don’t care enough. 
For the most part you feel nothing when you open the door, only emptiness until you look down. 
Someone left you a small vase of flowers. 
You pick them up, taking a closer look but your heart skips a beat when you do so.
Daisies. 
After a few short breaths you throw the vase into the wall across from your door, tiny shards of porcelain fly everywhere as two servants at the end of the hall give you a look of horror. Your shoes crunch over the remains of it as you make your way down the hall and to the entryway of the castle. 
Kodo insists that the two of you get to see him first. 
You’re sweating wildly out on the steps as you wait.
Long before you’re ready for it they bring him out. 
A shivering skeleton of a man with a linen bag over his head, immediately bile rises in your throat. Kodo is grinning ear to ear when his legs are kicked out from under him and he’s forced to kneel.
Kodo himself reaches forward and tears the bag off, too excited for any decorum or finesse. 
You gasp as you stare down at the broken man before you.
In all honesty he isn’t at all what you envisioned. 
His eyes verge on being hazel; they're such a light brown. You’d always pictured them to be nearly black. It doesn’t matter what color they are though, when you see the tears forming in his lash line you flinch, clutching the ring on your necklace to silently let him know silently just how much he means to you. 
He’s a mess. 
You don’t like looking at what those weeks in the dungeons did to him and the last thing you need to do right now is empty your stomach on the palace steps. 
He’s too thin. Far, far, too thin, it’s like his entire being has shrunk down. He’s hollow.
Your breath hitches when Kodo grabs a fistful of his dark hair, forcing him to turn and stare at the crowd. They must have cut it while he was down there it’s a mess, jagged edges and shorter than you’re used to. 
“This man has committed an act of treason against the crown.” His voice is loud and booming as the city goes quiet. “For such a crime he shall face the proper punishment.” He yanks him downawards, you watch in horror as Din’s head hits the stone, an incoherent mess of sounds pour from his bloody mouth and you have to look away. 
He didn’t want you to look.
You remind yourself to try and calm your breathing. You can hear the scuffle as they drag him to the guillotine, placing his neck into the wooden divot, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you turn to look. His eyes are everywhere but on you as he looks at the people around him, desperately pleading for his life. Not a single person so much as glances at him, afterall, it’s just nonsense, no one can understand him without a tongue. 
You can’t stand it, you almost cover your ears but you manage to resist as Kodo puts an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. 
“You’re welcome, sweet wife.” He whispers, his breath hot and wet against your ear. 
Fuck it. 
You don’t suppress the shudder in your spine as you shoot him a look of disgust. In a matter of moments everything you care about will be gone, why pretend any longer.
A bellowing chime plays from a nearby clock tower and you know it’s time, you straighten up as you stare at the guillotine in abject horror. 
This is it. 
Your chest rises and falls in sharp short bursts as everyone prepares themselves, a hush forming among the crowd on the street. 
And it begins, a chain reaction that you cannot stop now that the executioner has his ax raised above his head.
You had expected more. More time.
A part of you thought that time would slow, that you’d have a chance to stop it. 
But no. 
There is no epic fairy tale moment where the sun glimmers off of the blade and the executioner raises his ax, giving you this perfect moment to run to him, to shield him from the inevitable, to beg them to take you with him. 
That moment never comes. 
You barely have enough time to close your eyes like you promised him. In one unbroken motion the rope is cut, the blade falls and boom. 
Just like that, he’s gone. 
When you hear the metal slicing through the air you squeeze your eyes shut, hearing only the wet crunch as it cuts through flesh and bone. A soft, squishy thud when his head hits the stone. 
In fashion with your decision to no longer hide your disgust from Kodo you vomit. Bending down you puke onto the stones, spraying your own, and Kodo’s feet. The triumphant smile on his face vanishes as he realizes what’s happened. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, refusing to look at Din’s limp body as you give Kodo one last look of detestation before turning around and running back into the castle, not caring what anyone thinks anymore.
The moment you’re inside the reality of it all settles in as you feel tears falling wildly as you run up the steps to your room.
You have been good, and kind, and in return the maker rewarded you by killing the love of your life. 
So when you stand in the center of your demolished room you do the only thing your body can do at this point. 
You scream. 
From deep within your stomach, you scream, loud and raw. 
If anything was left unbroken in your room you’d be throwing it at the wall. But there’s nothing so you scream. 
You shriek.
You howl. 
And you wail.
You scream until there is no more noise. Your voice, like the rest of you, gives up. 
You aren’t sure how late it is when you finally stop. You’re tired and it’s dark outside and your throat is raw. 
And you lay on the floor. Because the bed is too big, and too cold, and the closet is so empty. So the only place left to sleep is there. You lay on the floor with no more tears to cry and no more sounds to scream as you stare at your bed, only from this angle can you see a rectangular shape under your bed frame. 
You wipe your nose with a stray piece of fabric before slowly crawling over to it, you sit on the floor and when you retrieve the item a brand new lump forms in your throat as you stare down at the box Din had bought all those days ago at the market. 
Your failsafe. 
With quivering hands you open it, staring into the small space containing a mess of items but what catches your eye is a piece of folded paper with your name on it. You take it between your fingers, opening it, careful to not let your tears fall onto it. 
Sarad’ika,
If you’re reading this then I’m afraid things aren’t going all that well for me. There are plenty of possible reasons as to why I’m no longer with you, but what’s important is that I plan on doing everything in my power to get back to you. There is only one thing in the galaxy that could keep me from your side, and if that is my fate then this box will ensure you’re taken care of. 
The most important thing is for you to get off this planet. I have included a few possible plans for you, do what you have to to survive. Elaine will help you escape. 
You can seek out Greef Karga on Nevarro. Tell him Din Djarin sent you, tell him what’s happened and he will see to it that you are cared for. Explain our circumstances and I am certain he will provide you with safe lodging. 
Tatooine is also an option. You’ll find a Mandalorian there by the name of Boba Fett, he will not turn you away. You will be protected there, if you need to relocate for some reason after that he will help you locate the Mandalorian convert. Show the Mandalorians your ring and you will be cared for the rest of your life, the convert will protect you. 
As an absolute last resort there is a planet located in the Outer Ring called Ossus. There is a school there, taught by a man named Luke Skywalker. I doubt he would be eager to take you in but you must insist. Bring the chainmail, they’ll know who sent you. Take care of each other. 
In this box you will find enough credits to get you off planet and take care of you for several months, a year if you’re frugal, I suggest you take a few jewelry pieces to pawn off for extra credits as well. You will find a small chainmail shirt, and a necklace of mine. 
And lastly you will find your vibroblade. 
Protect yourself. You’re strong, and more than capable of doing so.
I have one request for you, please, I will only ask this one thing of you. 
Be smart. 
You are the smartest and kindest person I have ever had the honor of knowing. Be smart, take care of yourself. If the roles were reversed I know that I would go to extremes to either get you back, or find justice for you. And all I can do is ask that you do not attempt any such thing, the only thing I would ever want for you is safety and happiness. 
So seek those things out. 
Be safe. Be happy.   
I was lucky to know you, and even luckier to be yours. 
an ner kar'taylir darasuum, 
Din
All my love. 
You flip the paper over, desperate for more, more Din, but all you find is scrawled coordinates to each location. Your fingers sift through the items, everything he promised is found inside but you latch onto the blade. Laying back down on the floor you clutch it between your fingers as you think of Din.
Din, who was yours.
Din, who they took from you.
Who Kodo, took from you. 
And your grip on the knife tightens. 
Two guards stand outside your door round the clock now. 
They never follow you or come into your room but they’re there, silently watching as you direct all your anger at your new staff. As promised Leo trained them to be as persistent and infuriating as he was. 
When the two new girls come to fetch you in the morning you can’t help it when you scream at them to leave you alone and to stop trying to clean the ever growing mess of things. 
It doesn’t matter that it isn’t their fault, you can’t stand the sight of anyone. 
All three of them try. New Elaine and Lysa show up three times a day, trying to dress you and squeeze their way past you into the room but after enough shrieking they always leave you be. 
New Leo usually tries once or twice a day, you don’t even look at him. You always stare at the floor, when he tries to speak you give him the same treatment as the girls, screaming at him and slamming the door. 
Why should you let them in? You know what they are. They’re here to spy on you, to be Kodo’s eyes while he’s busy being king. They’re easy to evade. When you leave to fetch yourself food or a book from the library you easily outrun them. The two girls are worse at navigating the castle than you were when you first arrived and new Leo has a bad leg, sometimes he’ll make attempts to limp after you but they’re always unsuccessful. 
You think of nothing, day after day because there is nothing to think about. 
Except for the fact that Kodo took your future away from you. He took everything from you. 
If you thought time was blending before Din’s death nothing could have prepared you for now. You don’t track the days as well, you keep your curtains drawn and only leave when you get hungry or start to think of Din. The last thing you need to do is have another screaming fit so you keep him locked away in your heart, an ache that’s always there that you don’t address. 
One day, in a fit of tears you took your knife and decided on a whim to kill Kodo. You didn’t care about the repercussions at that point you just wanted him to suffer but the moment you opened the door you nearly tripped, stumbling backwards the guards didn’t so much as glance at you. 
Another vase of flowers.
You’re tempted to just kick them down the hall but you can’t help yourself when you lean down to pick them up. 
A bouquet of blue lilies. Your nose twitches at the sight of them, out of the corner of your eye you see new Lysa and new Elaine approaching so you take the opportunity to slam the little glass vase into the stone floor. Glaring at them when you do before returning to your room. 
Maybe it’s been three days since Din died. 
Maybe it’s been three months. 
You aren’t sure.
You aren’t sure when you made plans to kill Kodo either but suddenly you have them. A fool proof way to get him alone. 
And suddenly you’re dressed for the first time in, well, however long it’s been. In a baby blue nightie with a robe you march out into the hall. The guards watch in silence as you walk away, your bare feet scampering down the stairs until you find yourself watching the main entrance. Waiting for your loving husband to make his nightly trip to a pleasure house, a trip that is typically accompanied by guards. 
You grip the handle of the knife in your pocket as you wait until you finally hear footsteps approaching. 
“Kodo, honey?” You step out from behind the stone column, holding your robe closed as you bat your eyelashes at him. He stumbles around drunkenly until his eyes focus on you. 
You’ve only used your voice for screaming for so long you sound meek, exactly as you want to right now. 
“Wife?”
“I thought maybe you’d like to join me tonight…” You hold a hand out towards him, putting on a sickly sweet tone of innocence. His mouth twists into a grin. 
“I knew you’d come around eventually.”
He doesn’t question where you’re taking him, he simply follows.
What a joke. 
You pull him up the stairs, you know from hide and seek where to find an empty room so you guide him there in calculated silence until he trips a bit, laughing to himself as he stutters.
“I knew if I got rid of the Mandalorian you’d realize how much better I am than him.” The statement doesn’t sit right with you and he can see it on your face, even in his drunken state he can sense your confusion. 
You both stop, you’re above him on the stairs as you turn and stare into his eyes.
“You- you knew?”
He simply nods, that sickening smile of his is plastered on his face. His icy blue eyes shimmer with delight. 
“How long?”
“When Leo told me I remembered everything. That little altercation in the hall when your boy knocked me out came right back to me, from there it wasn’t hard to figure out.” Your eye twitches as he speaks.
He knew you loved him and he took him from you anyway.
Any hesitations you had are gone as you nod, pulling him onward until you reach the large vacant tower room. He’s so drunk you decide to just drop the voice, pointing at a spot on the floor. 
“Lay down.” You mumble, reaching into your pocket once more.
He eagerly does as he’s told, laying down on the cold stone, you take a deep breath, in one swift motion you grab your knife, holding it behind your back as you toss your robe aside. He gives you a toothy grin as you ever so slowly walk to him, standing above him before sitting, straddling his waist. 
You look him up and down, one last time. 
Your loving husband. 
One of his hands plays with the blue lace of your nightie as you collect yourself. You look up at the ceiling briefly. 
I’m sorry. 
Not for Kodo, but for Din. This is exactly what he didn’t want you to do. 
You aren’t a killer. And you aren’t hateful, but a person can only be pushed so far before something breaks. 
Be smart. 
You think of Din’s note one last time before you bring the blade out in front of you and slam the blade into Kodo’s chest. 
He makes a sickly wet sound, coughing as he stares at you in shock.
You remove the knife, the hot steel cauterizes his wounds, there isn’t so much as a drop of blood as your face twists with fury and you bring it down again into his stomach now. 
How dare he look surprised by any of this. 
After what he took from you? He deserves galaxies worse. 
So you remove the knife. 
And you stab him again.
And again,
and again,
and again,
and again,
and again.
Until there is no more shocked look on his face. You don’t have a snarky remark or a statement to commemorate your revenge, you’re all used up at this point, all you have is this, this stabbing motion. 
He didn’t even have a chance to fight back.
You crawl off of his body, sitting on the stones as you toss the knife to the side, waiting for a rush of euphoria. 
But it never comes. 
It doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would. 
Staring down at Kodo’s lifeless body. You let yourself crumble. Collapsing down onto the floor, gasping for air as you sob. 
This was never going to bring him back. 
You lay there on your hands and knees for quite some time, just wailing, because what else are you supposed to do right now? You realize far too late that this was never an act of malice, some demented and shattered part of you thought that this would somehow bring him back, that it would give you peace. 
They won’t execute you. 
You planned this exactly so they wouldn’t.
Kodo didn’t tell anyone about your relationship with Din in much detail, not enough for them to assume that you could be with child. Everyone will assume that it’s Kodo’s. They won’t kill you, they can’t. 
Not if they think you’re carrying Kodo’s child. Now that Kodo’s dead, there’s no one to tell the royal family that you never consummated your marriage, your child is the most well protected person on the planet. The future monarch. It’s almost funny, you haven’t permitted yourself to think about the stirring within you as a child until just now, in this moment of weakness. A child, your child. 
Who will most likely grow up without a mother because of the decisions you've made today.
You bite your fist, swallowing a scream as you sit back on your heels. 
Your child will never know how loved they were. Your little one will never get to sit beside their mother while their father teaches them to sew. You put your head in your hands as you wail, no longer caring who hears. Your fate is sealed, what does it matter? 
You don’t turn when you hear someone coming up the stairs. When they pull you into their arms you try uselessly to shove them away. Your vision is blurry and filled with tears as you stare up at the unfamiliar figure now holding you. They rub your back, drawing swirls and stars against your spine as they pull you closer. 
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” They mumble into your hair. You dry your eyes hastily on your sleeve, confused by the voice you’re hearing, it’s painfully familiar, on instinct you wrap your arms around their torso, pulling yourself into their lap as you both sit on the floor beside Kodo’s body. “You’re okay, I’m here.”
“I’m- I’m sorry.” You whisper against the stranger's shirt. You knew you weren’t hateful. You’re certain of it now because even though he took quite literally everything from you, you still feel bad when you look at Kodo. 
A large hand cups your face, pulling you back to their chest so you can’t see the corpse anymore. 
“I didn’t mean it- I- I didn’t mean to kill him. Well I did but I just-” You begin to ramble as a fresh flood of tears begin sliding down your cheeks. 
“Hey- hey it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. We gotta get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll take care of this, I’ll fix it.” Their arms tighten around you, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You finally find the courage to look at your companion and it takes a moment for you to even realize who you’re looking at. 
New Leo. 
Why would he help you? You treat him like shit. When you look at him he looks like he’s about to cry and for the first time since Din was taken from you drop the walls you’ve put up and you let yourself feel bad for him. You show an ounce of kindness to him because in all honesty he’s the first person to make you feel safe since the night Din was taken from you. 
A lighthouse while you sail through a storm.
So you hug him. 
You pull yourself closer to him and you offer him a comfort you haven’t known for days.
“I’m sorry… for all of it, but especially the flowers, I should have told you, I just- you wouldn’t let me and the guards wouldn’t let me in without your permission and you just wouldn’t look at me.” He begins to mumble his own apologies, sending a surge of confusion through you. 
You furrow your brows, pulling back once more giving him a perplexed look as you search his nearly black eyes for some kind of answer. 
And it clicks. 
All at once it snaps into place and you want to say his name, so desperately, but you’re terribly afraid of being wrong. 
And then he smiles. A soft smile that makes you feel okay and you don’t even care if you’re wrong and you don’t care if it doesn’t make sense you just have to ask.
“Din?”
a/n : yeah so uhhhhh yeah uhhhh this is the first chapter i've ever written where im actually very fond of the writing and nervous about the plot stuff so im gonna go hide?? and just vanish for a while lol
//
I don't have a tag list anymore !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates!!
492 notes · View notes
gravehags · 6 months
Text
your sin, your preacher
Pairing: Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Tags: jealousy, possessiveness, rough sex, tender love confessions
Words: 1,618
Summary: You really should be used to this kind of thing by now but watching him with others never fails to make your blood burn.
a/n: AHA REMEMBER ME have a horny secondo fic based on a dream i had several weeks ago that i can no longer remember any of the pertinent details to. anyway cheers i did not intend for this to get so sweet at the end but i can't help myself. tender bitch disease status: terminal.
divider by @ghuleh-recs
Tumblr media
It wasn’t like it was the first time you’ve felt that pang of jealousy when the two of you were out but Sathanas did it sting.
The two of you are currently in Secondo’s bedroom both silently undressing after a Ministry event at a favored local club. All the upper clergy were present that night with only a handful of siblings - you being one of them. But you know you’re no ordinary sibling. Everyone knows you’re no ordinary sibling. Papa Secondo’s favorite. Papa Secondo’s mistress. Papa Secondo’s faithful little lap bitch. You’ve heard it all at this point and none of it really bothered you. What did however, despite internally chastising yourself every time it happened, was your reaction when you’d see others hanging all over your lover. And oh, did they hang. Painted lips close to his ear, promising him a night he’ll never forget as hands slide along his inner thigh. You had been speaking to Cardinal Copia that evening, the two of you complaining about your dislike of the music and the volume at which it was being blasted, when you saw a woman in a short dress, hanging on his side, her hand dangerously low on his belly. Secondo didn’t acknowledge her - instead electing to continue his conversation with Papa Terzo - but his disinterest didn’t stop her from continuing the path of her red-clawed hand. When she cupped your lover’s clothed cock, bile rose in your throat until the observant Cardinal took it upon himself to step in front of you and break your line of sight. You should be used to it by now, you chastised yourself, it’s part of the job. All part of the game he has to play. 
Yeah well it didn’t mean you had to like it.
Having stripped yourself of your clothing and jewelry, you silently grab your nightgown - a short black silk sleep chemise gifted to you by the man watching you carefully from across the room - and head towards the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind you. As you diligently remove your makeup you wonder if he could sense your irritation, feel the ugly green jealousy seeping off of you through the wall that divided the two of you. You wouldn’t be surprised, he’s always been startlingly good at seeing what you try your best to hide. Face washed, teeth brushed, you slip your nightgown over your head and loosen your hair with a sigh. With your hands on either side of the sink supporting you, you look up at your reflection. 
He chose you.
You smile at yourself and push yourself off the porcelain and put your hands on your hips.
But it doesn’t hurt to remind him.
Turning around you shut the bathroom light off and open the door. He’s already in bed, mismatched eyes watching you like a hawk as you pad across the rug and fling back the luxurious sheets to climb in beside him. You don’t have to say anything as you lie on your back with your eyes shut and simply wait. He’s predictable like that. And before long, you feel a long, elegant hand slide across your belly and up to your breast. You pretend not to notice him even as dextrous fingers circle your nipple. When he pinches insistently, hard, at the bud you finally let your eyes fly open and as soon as you do, he’s upon you. He doesn’t kiss you but instead drags his crooked nose along your neck and inhales deep.
“Amore…” he breathes and you can smell the expensive whiskey he drinks on his breath mixed with the mint of his toothpaste. “You looked delicious tonight.”
“Did I?” you ask, attempting to sound disinterested even as heat and slick pools between your thighs. “Kind of you to notice.”
That makes him pause and you seize the opportunity to flip him onto his back and straddle his hips. He’s half hard between the two of you and you know he can feel your wetness as you pin his forearms above his head. There’s a fire in his eyes now and you grind down on him with a sigh.
“Diavoletta mia,” he growls, “you play a dangerous game.”
“Oh?” you idly lift your hips and grab his cock to tease the head at your soaked entrance. Your hands are no longer holding him down but he obediently stays in place, electing instead to watch you sink down on him with a groan.
“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes rolling back at the way he stretches you. Frantically your hands search for the hem of your nightgown and in a smooth motion you lift it over your head and fling it aside. When his eyes meet the sway of your breasts you can’t help but smile with pride. You’ve never seen him look at anyone else with that gaze. Slowly, your hips begin to undulate as you slide off of him then take him back in. When his hands twitch you have to laugh - you know all he wants is to place them on either side of your hips and guide you.
“Ah, ah–ah!” The chastisement loses its bite when on the last syllable, his hips thrust upwards to fuck into you. He’s smirking at you now and with your brows furrowed, you take your hand and wrap it around his throat.
“So dominant, agnellino mio,” he taunts, “tell me does it lessen the sting of seeing that woman with her hand on my cock tonight?”
Your jaw drops and your face flushes in anger as you squeeze on either side of his throat. Bastard. Ruthlessly you begin to ride him, watching even as his iron control slips with each clench of your cunt. 
“You’re–lucky–” you pant, flinging your hair back, “almost went home with someone else tonight. That–Cardinal Copia–is such a sweet man. I’m sure he would treat me right. Might–might even be able to fill me better than this too.”
You knew you’d gone too far even as the words left your mouth. With a roar, Secondo flips you onto your back and with one large hand, effectively pins both of your wrists above your head. You’re about to throw a retort back at him when he slams inside of you with such force your head nearly grazes the headboard. All you can manage to is moan, higher and higher, as he pounds into you at a bruising rate.
“Never–forget–amore,” he snarls in between thrusts, “you are mine. You are mine and I am yours, capisci? This body–ah–this body is yours. This–ugh–soul is yours. This bed is ours and this cock is yours.”
Your lips form the words but no sound manages to come out - how could it at the rate he fucks the breath from your lungs? - so you nod frantically, tears sliding down your temples. The pleasure is bordering on pain but you don’t even care, how could you when you feel so deliciously used? When your spine begins to tighten and you feel your body bend off the mattress, you come with an exaltant scream of his name, cunt spasming around the thick length of him. If he was wild before, feeling and hearing your pleasure makes him positively feral, grunting and swearing profusely. When his previously precise thrusts become erratic, his hips stuttering, you know he’s close and so you end his suffering and sweetly clench around him once, twice, thrice and he comes with a hoarse shout, pumping rope after rope of seed into your cunt. When he finally relinquishes his grip on your wrists your hands immediately cup his cheeks and drag him down for a fierce kiss. He remains inside of you as his body sags and leans into your touch, momentarily breaking the kiss to pant into your mouth and nudge your nose with his.
“Amata mia, amata cara ragazza…do not ever doubt your Papa’s fidelity. I am yours, mi hai sentito? Only yours.”
With one final, uncharacteristically soft kiss he slips out of you and collapses to the side. You lament the loss of him inside you but your heart is so full to bursting tears begin sliding down your face once more.
“Secondo?”
"Sì, bellezza mia?”
“I love you.”
Those words were rare to pass between the two of you and always have been but you have never felt it more fiercely here, in this moment, as your body aches beautifully from his touch. You dare not look at him, instead choosing to stare at the coffered ceiling of the bedroom as tears continue to pour freely. There is a moment, then another, and you realize he’s staring at you so you finally turn to meet his gaze and oh, what you see there makes you gasp. Those mismatched eyes you love so dearly regard you with such raw feeling a hiccup bubbles in your chest. Gently, he reaches up and with two fingers, brushes the hair out of your eyes, followed by your tears.
“I do not know why the Unholy Father has seen to bless me in my old age but cara…you are my greatest treasure. Dolcezza mia. The words do not do how I feel justice but I will say them all the same. Ti amo.”
When you were watching siblings of sin grind on each other to the tacky thump of club music earlier that evening you had never anticipated this is how your night would end. You’ll pay for it tomorrow - you both will - your body bruised and used and his knees and back aching. No matter, you think as you curl your body into his, hand carding idly through the dark hair on his chest. Anything would be worth this.
238 notes · View notes
2baabbies · 8 months
Text
🖤 Obsessed (Hyunjin x Reader) 🖤
Pairings: established relationship hyunjin x reader
Words: 3800
Summary: Hyunjin’s jealous streak ends with you finding him in a compromising position. AKA: in your bed, masturbating while wearing your shirt.
(somewhat inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song by the same name; quote at the beginning also from this song)
Fluff + Smut + Humour
afab + fem!reader
CWs: jealousy (but make it cute and silly), reader is trying to make hyunjin jealous but only because it makes them both horny (and he’s a drama queen), he’s only a bit insecure, the point of contention is a big shirt but reader’s weight is not described (aka this fic is not limited to any one body size), reader and hyunjin have exes, reader lets hyunjin make assumptions that she teases him about later
Smut Tags: lots of teasing!!, (subtle) subby!hyune x dom!reader, intercourse (peanits in vagina), safe sex/use of condom, a bit of rough sex/uncomfortable position, reader has a kink for hyunjin’s desperation, begging, hair pulling, overstim, slight dumbification of reader, slightly pervy!hyune (smelling your clothes), hyunjin masturbates in your shirt (described in detail), little bit of voyeurism, bit of cum eating
!!ATTENTION!!
Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!
Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3
~~~
‘And I know you love me, and I know it's crazy
But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her
You both have moved on, you don't even talk
But I can't help it, I got issues, I can't help it, baby’
It takes Hyunjin’s brain a second to register that something is wrong, and a second after that to actually take a look at himself and attempt to decipher what feels so off. He is still buffering when you return to your bedroom. You giggle at his bedhead and the cute expression on his face as he grabs the hem of his shirt and holds it up. He thought he had grabbed his white tshirt off the floor, and in his morning daze he had actually grabbed one of yours that you were too lazy to throw in the morning laundry. The graphic tee is far too big on him, even hanging off his shoulder, but you get a good look at the boxers he pulled on seconds before thanks to his hands lifting it up above his stomach. He drops the material and it falls down over his lap, unfortunately covering his soft tummy and pale thighs. He looks up then blinks away his sleep as you enter with a basket of clean laundry. You hold up his shirt and you giggle again at his sleepy smile.
“Looking for this?”
He nods and watches you drop the basket on the bed. You pull each freshly washed garment out for him and he shuffles over to loop his arms around your waist from behind.
“You let me sleep in…”
“You wouldn’t get up, sleeping beauty.”
He huffs and pecks the nape of your neck.
“You didn’t try hard enough…”
“Mhm, sure. You look cute in that.”
You admire him over your shoulder as he leans back and plucks the baggy fabric between his fingers.
“It doesn’t fit me…”
“I think that’s where the cuteness comes in.”
“I’m always cute…”
“That… I don’t disagree with that.”
He chuckles and turns you around so he can properly embrace you. You smile at him and nudge your noses together with a fond smile. He hums and nuzzles back gently, drawing your body tight to his with a content sigh.
“It’s so cozy… How come I hardly see you wearing it?”
You fail to realize at first that he is back to talking about the shirt, and take a moment of silence to contemplate his question.
“I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty, I try to put something cleaner on when I know you’re coming over.”
You both laugh at your honesty.
“It’s really soft.”
“Well, I’d offer to buy you one but I don’t know where it came from.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone left it over a while ago…”
You do not regret the words when they leave your mouth, but you can do little to fight your smirk as Hyunjin’s lips draw into a tight line. He then purses his lips and puffs his cheeks in a dramatic pout.
“Who?”
“Don’t be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. Tell me who.”
You roll your eyes. Hyunjin was privy to the history of all your exes, situationships, and sexual escapades. You knew about his too. It had been relieving to be able to talk so candidly about your experiences with him, and it definitely allowed the two of you to become close early on in your relationship. There was something therapeutic about snuggling with your lover and bitching about the ones that let you down.
It did not, however, curb Hyunjin’s jealousy in the slightest. He knew their names, how long you were together, if you still talked, he even knew where some of them lived and worked. It would be alarming if you had not both offered all that information to each other willingly. And you knew, ultimately, Hyunjin would never restrict you from having a friendship with any of the exes you still talked to. Although you would never admit it, you treated his jealousy as a testament of his love. He only cared so much because he cared about you. Besides, it was a natural emotion, and the fact that he was willing to  be so emotionally available did more for you than anything your exes ever did.
“We don’t even talk anymore, Hyune. I don’t think she’s even in this country.”
“She. She. Oh god, I know who it is.”
“No, you don’t-”
He falls out of your arms and to the bed with a heavy thud, wailing incoherently as you observe his theatrics.
“She’s the worst!”
“Well, that’s why we’re not friends anymore…”
He suddenly thrashes and tears the shirt off with an animalistic grunt. You cock your eyebrow up and watch him roll around in vain when it gets stuck on his chin. He manages to pull it off and whips it at the floor, breathless after his performance.
“Are you okay?” You ask.
“I can’t believe you let me wear her shirt.”
You scoff.
“Firstly, you’re the one that put it on. Secondly, it’s my shirt. She left it. Finders keepers.”
“I feel dirty.”
“You’re fine. And overreacting.”
You kneel on the edge of the bed and crawl up so you are sitting in his lap. He huffs and looks at you with a miserable expression.
“Why did you keep her shirt?”
“Because it’s a nice shirt, and I like it.”
“Get rid of it.”
“I will not. But, I’ll wear it less if that makes you feel better.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
You giggle.
“You’re being silly, Hyune.”
He looks away pointedly and you guide him back to face you by gripping his jaw. He swallows thickly as you, slowly, lean in to hover your face over his. You feel his shuddery breath on your lips, and bite down seductively to muffle the satisfied hum you release when you feel him hardening beneath you. He glares and scrunches his face with faux distaste as you dance your fingers up his stomach, then graze your thumb over one of his nipples. He shivers and finally lets the act drop, his annoyance melting into arousal as you peck shyly at his lips.
“Hyune,” You purr, “It’s okay if you’re jealous.”
“I-I know…”
You reward his cooperation with a teasing lick into his mouth, and carefully circle his nipple with light pressure. He whines and bucks up against you.
“You know how special you are to me. I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too,” He whimpers.
You respond with a sultry chuckle and begin stripping off your clothes.
There was a part of you that adored Hyunjin’s jealousy. It made him whiny, and needier for your affection. You would deny it vehemently if he ever called you out on it, but his desperation for your validation could have you dripping in seconds. So, it was a bit of a game between you. For the majority of the following week, Hyunjin would pretend he was unbothered when he saw you wearing that shirt. In turn, you would pretend that you were accidentally choosing it over all your other pajama options. While it may have been a bit unfair- or even mean- on your part to watch him squirm and stifle his complaints each time you pulled it on, it did not weigh on your conscience. You love each other; you trust he will let you know when his limit has been met.
And he does.
“Take it off.”
“Ha-ah,” Your eyes roll as you mumble back, “Hn?”
Your mind is fuzzy. Hyunjin has your ankles hooked over his shoulders and his cock pressed deep inside you. Your arms are limp above your head, fists clenching in the pillow supporting you. You tilt your head back with a moan as his hips rock against the back of your thighs in a steady rhythm.
“Baby, take it off, please.”
His fingers are curled in the hem of the white shirt, lifting it up as he ruts himself into your warmth. You huff out a laugh and tilt your head back to face him. You moan as you take in his heady groans and pleading eyes. His plump lips are parted to exhale a whine and his cheeks are impossibly flushed. You clench when he makes another pathetic noise and shoves his face into your neck. You smirk as your shirt gets rucked up to your breasts.
“I-I’m cold, Hyune.”
“Please. Please, please, please.”
He draws back and now you whine as his movements falter. 
“Hyunjin?”
He raises his head and pouts, eyes teary as he looks at you. You shudder, feeling your heat gush at the sight. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and your mind is scrambled with the intent to chase that high. You roll your hips and he gives a shaky thrust in return.
“Don’t make me beg, darling. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Mhm! M’okay, take it- take it off, Hyune.”
His touch is deft as you lift your arms and he slips the shirt over your head. He throws it behind him, then draws a gasp from you when he repositions himself above you. Your mouth is agape in pleasure when he starts thrusting again, legs folded to your chest as he plows you into the mattress. You are thankful for the pillow, otherwise your head would be banging against the headboard. His tip almost kisses your cervix and you let out a breathless wail as humps into you, following each precise thrust with steadily rising groans. You reach up to thread your fingers in his hair and bring him in for a kiss. Your toes curl as his body melts into yours, and you finally reach your climax. You share more consuming kisses as he fucks you through your orgasm.
Hyunjin is soon following you, getting sloppier in his movements as his pleasure increases. He leans away, just enough to let you catch your breath. Your legs are trembling from the strain, and now from the overstimulation of his cock filling your fluttering cunt. He shakes his head when stray hairs stick to his skin and fall into his eyes, and you lovingly tuck each one out of the way.
“Hyune…”
“G-Good?”
“Mhm,” You nod and quiver, “M’good. Can’t think.”
He laughs and leans down to peck your lips. For a moment it looks like he has a quip lined up, but he just snuggles his head into your chest and lets out a ruined moan. You giggle as his thrusts stutter, then he lazily rolls his hips into you with a relieved hum. You let him ride out his release, kissing the crown of his head and playing with his hair as he lets out little moans and sighs of pleasure. When he finally stills, you reach between your bodies and gently push on his chest.
“Ah-ahn…”
“Hyune, you’re squishing me.”
“Hah, sorry.”
He groggily rises and lets your legs fall out of their tense position. You help him slip off the condom and discard it in the trash bin beside your bed. Your legs are numb, and you are a little shuddery all over from the lingering overstimulation. Hyunjin helps you get comfortable then melts into your waiting arms. You resume kissing and caressing him slowly as he tucks the two of you under the blanket and settles on top of you. He rubs his dumpling cheek over your heart and smiles when you giggle at him.
“I love you,” He murmurs, “You okay?”
You nod.
“I’m good, baby. I love you, too. You always make me feel so good.”
“Mhm, I’m sorry I was rough.”
Hyunjin massages your hips and gently squeezes your thighs. You hum and brush your fingers through his hair, tidying his mussed locks and ridding it of tangles.
“You don’t have to be sorry, babe. I loved it. You were perfect.”
“You’re perfect.”
He leans up to share a sweet kiss, stroking your cheek as your lips meld together. When you part, he pecks your chin then lets his lips trail down your neck. Your eyes flutter and you exhale peacefully as exhaustion overtakes you. Still, you stay awake when he brushes his lips over your ear and whispers to you.
“Thank you, for taking it off.”
“Mhm. Jealous baby.”
He whines at your teasing tone.
“You’re so mean.”
“And you’re ridiculous,” You murmur as you drift off, “But I still love you. You’re my favourite boy. My one and only.”
He nods and pecks your cheek. “I know. You’re my one and only, too, baby.”
The morning arrives peacefully. You wake up before your alarm, and enjoy a few minutes of admiring Hyunjin’s sleeping visage before you slip out of bed to get ready for the day. He is still sleeping after you finish your routine, completely undisturbed as you get dressed and check your phone. You still have some time before you have to go, so you sit beside him on the bed and card your fingers through his hair as you scroll through your phone. He stirs and looks up at you blearily when you run your thumb down the bridge of his nose.
“Mh?”
“Good morning, baby,” You peck his forehead, “I have to go out. I have a couple errands to run. I won’t be long, okay?”
“Mhhm.”
You tuck him in and kiss his temple as he nuzzles his face into a pillow. You giggle and leave with a fond smile.
Hyunjin wakes later, before you return, and pats the empty space beside him until he realizes you are not there. He rolls onto his back to look around and swipes a hand over his face as he fights his disorientation. Eventually, he vaguely remembers you kissing him goodbye earlier when he was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Unfortunately for him, he has no clue when that was or how much longer it will be until you get home. He lets out a frustrated sigh for no one but himself and eases himself out of bed. He pulls on his boxers, finding them among the pile of other clothes hastily discarded when the two of you fell into bed the night before, and shuffles to the bathroom.
He is a bit more awake when he returns to your bedroom, and pauses as it registers in his vision. White fabric, carelessly casted to the floor, sitting atop your panties and his hoodie. He scoffs at it, so it will know how he disapproves of it gracing his presence, and crosses the room to pick it up off the floor. He had not cared to look at the white tee any more closely once the idea of you wearing someone else’s clothes crossed his mine, but he is drawn to dissecting it now. He does not recognize the print on the front, some band or characters you never mentioned, but he does admire it a bit now. Ultimately, he understands why you kept the shirt on an objective level. It is nice, albeit a little worn, and there is nothing aesthetic-wise that he dislikes about it.
Hesitantly, he toys with it before bringing it to his nose. He gives a tentative sniff as he recalls your words from a week ago. I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty. The shirt definitely did not smell like fresh laundry, or whatever he was expecting it to smell like. It smells like you. He cannot place it, there is a mix of familiar smells invading his senses; the remnants of your body wash, a hint of the candle you light after stressful days, the trace of your hot scent that drives him crazy during your intimate moments. His eyelids flutter and he groans, pressing the fabric to his nose and inhaling deeper. He recalls how comfortable the shirt was to wear before he learned of its origins, and begrudgingly pulls it on before crawling back in bed.
Missing you is torture for him during the rare moments he wakes up alone in your bed, but wearing your shirt settles his loneliness for a bit. That is, until he gets restless again. He could go find his phone, wherever he abandoned it when you two started getting handsy the night before, but he is already so comfortable under the covers. The only thing missing is you. He pulls the collar up over his nose and breathes in, momentarily subdued by the illusion of being enveloped by you. Then he remembers the vision of you from last night, wearing this same shirt and taking him so dutifully in this same bed. He groans and curses himself, reaching down to palm over his growing erection. The shirt, still too big for him, adds an extra obstacle between him and relief as he strokes himself leisurely. He shucks his boxers off under the blanket and reaches under the shirt to grasp his cock firmly. He groans and gives himself a rough squeeze before jerking himself slowly.
One hand holds the shirt up over his nose while the other roams over his length. He wishes it was you. He bucks his hips up at the thought of you touching him and puffs sharply into the shirt. He squirms, the tip of his cock rubs against the inside of the shirt with every stroke and creates a delicious amount of friction. It is so soft, gliding against him without any discomfort and very little resistance. His hips jump again and he has to clutch the base of his cock to stop himself from climaxing too quickly. He discovers that he can taste your scent stronger if he inhales through his mouth, and before too long is panting desperately as he thrusts into his fist. He is too hot now, and kicks off the blanket before resuming the rhythm of sucking in deep breaths while fucking into his own hand.
He is almost there now, possibly on the verge of cumming faster than any other time he has touched himself. He watches his cock strain under the shirt through his eyelashes, and whines when his precum begins wetting a spot in the white fabric. It sticks to him now, turning a bit translucent where his arousal beads through the material. His eyes pinch shut and he controls himself again. He does not want to finish so quickly. This feeling of pleasure is new to him, being smothered in your scent and comfort with the perfect sensation helping him get off. The only thing that might compare is actually getting to fuck you, but this is so different.
He cannot edge himself any longer, the pleasure that has been pooling has become too much. He begins jerking himself faster, ignoring the dry scrape of his unlubed palm on his shaft. He collects some of his precum and uses that to ease his motions. It helps just enough and allows him to reach his climax without further hesitation. He cries out and pants out a series of whimpering moans as his cum shoots out in thick spurts.
You lean in the doorway, watching his release soak through the fabric and further dampen the spot over his cock. You had been watching since he kicked the blanket away. In fact, you knew what he was doing when you entered the apartment and heard his soft moans ringing out in the silence. What you had not expected was walking in on the scene before you- but you were far from disappointed. You let Hyunjin recover a bit before speaking up. He tugs down the collar of the shirt and heaves in a much needed breath.
“I thought you didn’t like that shirt?”
He jumps and throws his palm over his face.
“Fuck.”
You laugh as his other hand slips guiltily out from under the shirt and falls limp on the bed, a bit of his cum sticking between his fingers. You saunter over to the bed, leaning in to run your hand up the inside of his leg as you walk up alongside him. He shivers and peeks at you through his fingers, chest rising and falling quickly in anticipation. Your hand takes his wrist from where it lies on the bed, you hold him firmly as you ease down to straddle his lap. You hold up his messy fingers, almost in admiration, and meet his gaze as you suck them into your mouth. He groans and lets his other hand drop so he can watch you lap each one clean. Your lip twitches as you guide his fingers over your lips, smearing your spit as you lead him to cup your cheek.
“Well?”
“Huh? Oh, the shirt, right,” You giggle and silently urge him to reply, “I-It’s alright. I still don’t like it.”
“Really? You seem to like it, at least a little bit.”
You pry the shirt up from where it has begun to stick to his cock and he hisses. You tilt your head and run your thumb over the patch of soiled fabric thoughtfully.
“O-Only because it smells like you.”
“Oh? Is that it? Are you still jealous?”
Hyunjin sets his jaw and avoids your gaze for a moment as he licks his lips nervously.
“I don’t know…”
“Be honest, Hyune.”
His eyes flick shyly to yours.
“It’s not easy just to… not be jealous. You know that.”
“Mhm…”
You move up his lap, not caring when you settle onto the dirty patch or his oversensitive cock. He watches with a worried frown as you brace your hands on either side of his head and lean over him.
“Wanna know a secret?”
“Yes,” He breathes, looking up at you expectantly.
“You’re jealous over someone who I never had feelings for, and who never got to touch me.”
His eyes widen then narrow.
“But, y-you said your ex left it!”
“Ah-ah- I said ‘someone’ left it behind. You were the one who assumed I was ever into that person.”
He puffs his cheeks and glares softly.
“You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t correct you. You shouldn’t have assumed you knew who forgot it.”
“You set me up.”
You laugh.
“I set you up? For what? To catch you jerking off in my shirt?”
“Yes!”
Your laughter intensifies and Hyunjin fights his smile. He looks embarrassed, face still flushed, but the twinkle in his eye as you become breathless above him seems to signify his ease with the circumstances. You sigh happily and lean down to reward him with a deep kiss, which he eagerly returns.
“How about we get you clean, hm?”
“Sounds good to me.”
You giggle and tug at the shirt playfully.
“And I’ll get our shirt washed up.”
“Yeah, you let it go too long. It’s way too dirty to wear now.”
You snort.
“Okay, actually, you can wash your own messes.”
He grins.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Hyune.”
208 notes · View notes
wildrangers · 2 months
Text
I’m Sinking, Our Fingers Entwined // Matt Smith
Synopsis: Fem Journalist x Matt Smith, part three {part one, part two}
Tropes & Topics: work angst, super brief miscommunication, fluff
Word Count: 1.5K
A ding! followed by a soft curse rouses Matt from his slumber. It takes him a moment to orient himself in the purple room he finds himself in, only having seen it in the dead of night previously. He sits up, scrubbing a hand over his face as he observes the details of your room. It is absolutely covered in books. One wall’s entirely mismatched bookshelves filled to the brim, there are small piles on each nightstand, and another precariously balanced stack stands in a corner. The open walls are covered in either film posters or dark, gothic prints. 
He rises, seeing the oversized sweats you’d laid on the foot of his bed for him and smirks, noting you had not laid out a shirt for him. He quickly gets dressed, stretching as he exits your room and follows the sound of your fingers on keys. He finds you with his back to him, laptop open before you, and freezes at the sight.
Your hair’s in a messy bun atop your head, a baggy tee and underwear your only clothing as you sit cross-legged on your desk chair. You have glasses on and your face is free of make up. Despite all you’d done together last night, Matt thinks this is the most beautiful version of you he’s seen so far. He can’t stop himself from snapping a quick photo; the morning light hits you in the most beautiful way and your head is tilted as if you’re lost in your thoughts. 
“Good morning, beautiful” he greets and you turn towards him beaming. 
“Morning Matty” you reply, standing up to wrap him in a tight embrace. Normally, he doesn't love being called Matty (how does it make sense for a nickname to have more syllables than your preferred name?), but he adores how it sounds coming from your mouth. “Sleep okay?”
“Like a rock, you?” 
“Wonderfully, thanks” you reply, eyes nervously glancing up to look at him. He smiles softly and the tension eases from your shoulders as he places a gentle kiss to your mouth. As your hands curl around his neck, fingers massaging his scalp, he fears no one else’s touch will affect him the way yours does. You pull back and he places a quick kiss to your nose, drawing a giggle from you. “Coffee?”
“Please, black would be great” he answers, reluctantly letting you walk away to grab him a mug. The ding! that had woken up pulls his eyes to your screen and he feels his stomach drop as he accidentally skims the email preview: Video Call ASAP (re: fraternization policy).
“Want some food too?” he hears you call from the kitchen. “I went out and grabbed some bagels.”
“Sure, thanks” he replies tensely, worry lodging in his stomach as he makes his way to you. That email couldn’t be about him, could it? How could they know already? “What does your day look like?” 
“Ugh” you groan dramatically and he smiles despite his fears. “I should be preparing for an interview we have this week but I finally figured out this plotline I’ve been stuck on, so I think I’ll work on my book instead. I should feel guilty about putting off that prep another day but it is Sunday after all” you shrug, running a hand across his shoulders before brushing past him to return to your laptop. 
“Your creative work is more important” he argues, getting his breakfast together. You don’t answer him so he cautiously pokes his head around the corner. “Everything okay?”
“I have to get on a Zoom call with my boss” you reply quietly, your face drawn. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Can you google my name?” you request and his heart patters nervously as he does so. 
A buzzy new romance! 
Puppy love on Buzzfeed set?
“How bad is it?” you ask quietly just as the first link opens. He sighs, motioning for you to join him. You tentatively stand beside him, resting your head on his shoulder as he scrolls through the photos and video someone sent to DeuxMoi of you two at the bar last night that several tabloids had subsequently picked up. 
“I am so, so sorry” he says earnestly, closing his phone screen and turning so he can pull you into his chest. He feels some relief as you wrap your arms around his middle, burying your face in his chest. 
“You don’t need to apologize, I knew this could happen. I just didn’t care” you admit and he places a kiss to the top of your head. “Can you be honest with me?”
“Of course.” 
“What did last night mean to you?” 
He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts, “I don’t want it to be a one night thing, if that’s what you’re asking. The sex was obviously incredible but it’s more than that for me, personally, anyway,” he fumbles at the end, worried suddenly he could have misread your interest in him.
“I feel the same way, I’m just trying to imagine what a relationship with you would even look like.”
“Meaning?” he replies, flinching away from your comment. You must note the upset you accidentally caused as you quickly thread your fingers through his in silent apology. 
“Meaning I’ve never dated a well-known actor before and I have to decide if it’s worth figuring that out and losing my job before I meet with my boss in…” you check your phone. “3 minutes.” 
He nods, “I understand if it’s too much and I’m happy to talk it through but I don’t think that can happen in the next few minutes alone, darling.” 
“I know” you reply quietly, nervously chewing on your bottom lip in a way that he finds unfathomably adorable. “Fuck it.” 
“Fuck it?” he repeats, uncertain. 
“Can you wait in the kitchen while I have this conversation?” you request and he nods despite his confusion. 
“Good morning, Y/N. I’m assuming you know why we requested this call?” 
“Yes and to simplify things, I’m submitting my resignation effective immediately” 
A long pause follows, making Matt’s heart pound faster. “Are you sure of that decision?”
“Yes, thank you for the experience. I wish you all the best.” you reply and he hears the call end. He’s frozen in the kitchen unsure if you want to be alone or if he should comfort you. Within a few moments, the keyboard’s clacking again and he follows the sound. 
Your face is impassive as you type rapidly on the Word document you have open. “Y/N?” he questions softly. 
“Yeah?” 
“...you just quit your job.” 
“Yeah.” 
A pregnant pause, “How are you feeling about that?” A long sigh escapes your mouth and that’s when he sees your hands are shaking slightly. “Oh, darling.” 
“It’s fine, really, I just can’t believe I finally did it. I’ve been debating quitting for months to focus on my writing.” 
Matt settles on the couch and you quickly scurry from the desk chair and into his lap, head nestled in the crook of his neck. “Why hadn’t you?” 
“Because I was scared” you admit, lazily playing with his fingers. “But I want to see what we could be. And I wasn’t happy there anyway, so it just seemed like the right time to do it.” 
“I’m sorry your hand was forced, if I had known this would happen…I just feel terrible.” 
“No, please, dont” you say earnestly, pulling back to gaze into his eyes. “I think this was just meant to happen. That’s what I’m choosing to believe anyway. I have an almost finished manuscript, a few leads on agents, and now we can see what this turns into, if anything” you finish shyly and he grins, placing a kiss to your palm. 
“I have to go to London for a few days, for the final Dragons premiere.” 
“I’ve never been to London” you mumble and his heart thumps wildly. Is this a terrible idea? Well, if you can do it…
“Fuck it, want to join me? I can show you around, you can be my guest.” 
“Yeah?” you ask cheerfully, your face splitting into a grin that he feels deep in his chest. 
“Yeah, if you’d like? I know it’s sudden and we’ve just met but...the reality is I’m often flying around place to place. And you wanted to see what dating me would be like, right?” 
“Is this you asking me on a vacation date to your hometown, Matthew?” you ask, faux-shocked.
“I suppose it is, yeah” he replies, chuckling. 
“Okay, let’s do it then. Plus, I can hang out with Liv more now.” 
“Your real intentions have been revealed” he jokes and you nod enthusiastically as your front door slams open, Trudy charging in and jumping into your lap. 
“What the hell have I missed?!” the woman he presumes is Sage asks with wide eyes. “Also, a neighbor left a note taped to our door, I’m going to presume it’s for you two.” 
taglist: @littlehorrorlover @slayraxes-blogs @decaffeinatedparadisepost
I have no idea where we go from here so stay tuned I suppose lol but also please be patient! Any feedback or thoughts are appreciated 🫶🏻
115 notes · View notes
myung-heee · 1 year
Text
make me remember.
Tumblr media
pairings: idol!joshua x f!reader
genre: smutt
warnings: pet names, oral (f receiving), unprotected, spanking, joshua is soo bf material that it needs a warning. idc.
You smiled at him as you caressed his hair while sitting on his lap. His eyes were glittering while looking at you. "You're so beautiful, baby." He put his arms around your waist.
 
You could sense the tiredness through his body as he lazily rested his head on your shoulders. Going home from a 14-week tour is really tiring. He's lucky that you are always right there, exactly where he wanted you to be, inside his dorm room.
You patted his head as his hands traveled to your back. "Do you want to sleep?" you asked him, to which he responded with a shook head, "Not really. I've been out for months, and I almost forgot how this feels like..." You immediately tightened your grip on his hair as you felt his teeth bite your neck, which shocked you.
"Did you forget what biting my neck feels like?" You let out an amusing soft laugh as he kept sucking into your neck, making you tilt your head to give him more access. "Hmm," he hummed as he held your wrist while licking your neck.
"I hate you," you whispered as you gently smacked his shoulders. He laughed into your neck, which sent shivers down your spine. "You're unfair. I remember every single detail of how you touched my body, yet you forgot it," you scoffed.
He stopped to look at you and said, "That's why, you'll make me remember it.. hmm?" He gently rubbed his hands both on the sides of your hips, saying, "You'll make me remember.. every single detail, again. Is that okay?" He gently put his hand on your chin and smiled when you nodded. "good girl." You felt your panty getting soaked from the way his voice uttered a word. You really missed your damn boyfriend, and it's not helping.
He then puts his hand back to your waist. As he pulled you up and sat you down on the bed, he put his lips into yours as he tasted each and every corner of your mouth using his tongue, the way you can feel both of your tongues inside your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he gently pushed you under, your back hitting the mattress.
He held your arms and pushed them away as he pulled his lips from yours, earning a whine from you. He chuckled at you and said, "You're so needy.. I'm the one who's supposed to feel needy, baby." His hands traveled down to your stomach and then to your shorts.
You felt his hands at the hem of your short as he pulled it down, leaving your wet-soaked panty. He looked at it with awe; he couldn't believe that this cunt was actually his, that you are his. You sighed as you felt him rubbing his finger to the slit of your soaked panty, feeling the fabric and his finger tips on you. You honestly felt so embarrassed because you were soaking wet and he barely even did everything, but you were all so worked up.
He smiled. He is enjoying the view of you with your shirt and just a panty. You tried to cover your face with your palm, but he clicked his tongue in disapproval, warning you.
You kept your hands on the sheets, gripping them. You bit your lip as he pulled you to the edge of the bed, where he knelt comfortably on the floor, putting your thighs between his shoulders. He caressed your hips as he kissed your inner thighs, making you whine like a slut.
He then faced your cunt and put his nose against your clothed clitoral area, which made you arched your back. earning a slap in the thigh from him. "So impatient," you heard him whisper. before fully diving in, licking your slit with your panty still on. You sighed as you tightened your grip on the sheets.
You felt him shift your panty into the side and start sucking your cunt like a madman, circling his tongue into your hole. A tear left your eye when you felt his wet tongue on your clitoral area, sucking it like he was drinking something. You arched your back as you cried out his name, "Joshua, please."
He didn't stop there, he even inserted a finger inside you while lapping your cunt. You're a moaning mess, crying out just for him. You started grinding your hips into his fingers and mouth, and you felt your body tensing up as he fastened his pace. Your back hit the mattress as you felt your vision go black as you hit your edge. You wiped down your tears as you felt him disappear between your legs.
He sat on the edge of the bed. tapping his thigh, signaling you to sit on his lap. You crawled into him, and you waited for seconds as he pulled down his pants. He took out his cock, wet from the cum. He then took your waist and helped you go in front of him. You wrapped your palm around the base of his cock as you aligned him with your entrance. You pushed down slowly, biting your lip to distract yourself from the pain. It's been months, and you never thought it would hurt. It hurt like the first time. He noticed your expression, so he immediately wrapped his other hand around your waist and another one around the back of your head, pushing your face close to him so he could kiss you.
 
You accidentally bit on his bottom lip when you felt his tip reaching the end inside you. You looked at him. "Sorry," you whispered. He just chuckled as he pushed you back again for a kiss. This time it was messy, as you started bouncing up and down on him.
 
"Ah fuck." You heard him curse himself as you started thrusting so damn fast that his hand from the back of your head disappeared as he wrapped both his hands on your waist to guide your hips.
"Are you going to forget about how this felt too.. joshie?" He whined at the nickname and shook his head immediately. "No—aah fuck! Keep doing that, baby..." he whined "please cum." you could feel his cock twitch inside you as you started thrusting faster, your hips slapping his laps. Your boobs were bouncing off the shirt. You held on to his shoulders as you started to feel your orgasm coming up.
 
"I'm so close.." You rested your head on his shoulders, hiding your face, as tears started to roll down from your eyes.
 
He held onto your hips tightly as he started thrusting up, desperately as he felt him getting close too. Your eyes closed when you felt hot liquid run down to your inner thighs as your body shaked. a few more sloppy thursts before he pulled his cock away, gently laying you down on the bed as he continued to jerk himself up. Your eyes were shut, but you felt his warm liquid on your shirt.
655 notes · View notes
iheartmysun · 9 months
Text
Christmas with George Weasley (headcanons)
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
Tumblr media
• so so incredibly keen to have you stay over at the burrow
• would ask if it was alright to invite you over for christmas the day halloween ended
• he'd insist that you help put some extra decorations up with him
• would sneak warm, delicate kisses up your neck and onto your cheek while you were focused doing so
• laughs at the expression on your face when you realise that he's put mistletoe up when you weren't paying attention
• being the cheeky man that he is, he would definitely tease you about it
• but not without you teasing him in return (which would certainly make him more flustered than he might be willing to admit)
• absolutely takes advantage of the cold weather and uses it as an excuse to curl up in his bed with you
• and you can't forget his love of seeing you in his jumpers/sweaters either
• would fuss about what clothes you were wearing when going out into the snow
• "Well, I can't let you catch a cold, now can I?" he'd say as he pulled a scarf up to cover your nose
• would kiss your nose through the scarf to 'seal in the warmth'
• dates in the village nearby
• anything from keeping you inside of a cozy café to get you a hot drink
• to outside in the wintery air to shove snow at you
• would then rush to your side to help you up, apologising for shoving snow at you too hard and making you fall over
• he's then pulled into the snow with you instead
• george can't help but let out the most melodious laugh that you've ever heard (making you feel sure that that sound could heal even the most painful of heartaches)
• loves baking things for you
• mainly pastries
• wants to treat you to all of the delicious foods that your heart desires
• gives his best effort with presents
• most likely puts his creative talents to use to give you something that he made himself
• obviously well thought out. only the best is allowed for the light of his life
• he still worries that it won't be enough as he can't buy many gifts (save perhaps a few sweets)
• you assure him that his gifts are as marvellous as he is
• he can't help but kiss you with that gorgeous grin of his plastered across his face
• the first few early hours of christmas morning are spent warm in his embrace
• he wakes up first
• a soft and sleepy smile makes its way to his lips once he looks at you
• can't help but adore every detail on your peaceful face as you lay your head on his chest
• "Only you could keep me this warm when it's this bloody cold."
• each other's very own personal heater
• he's sure that the holiday has somehow made him fall for you even more than he already has
245 notes · View notes
wrennyfics · 1 month
Text
Warmth
Severus snape x Professor! Reader
18 +! Minors dni.
Warnings: Smut, slight degredation
Tropes: Smut, soft dom snape, rough but gentle sev, established relationship
Requests are open! See my pinned post for details xox
~
Christmas wasn't for another week, but it may as well have been today. The students had spent all day in a scurried, sense of irritability that can only be described as a widespread, severe case of "holiday impatience". You were typically respected as a professor by your students, even the first years payed attention in your class. But this week, it seemed as though the impending holiday vacation left no room in any of the students heads for lessons on astronomy.
You sighed, leaning against the window frame of you and Severus's shared bedroom quarters. The room completely dark expect for the few candles by the bedside where you had been marking, you stared out the window at the snow falling gently onto the Black Lake, watching thick snowflakes build on the castle.
Shivering, you wrapped the sheer nightgown closer to yourself, regretting your decision not to put something thicker. In all honesty, you chose this specifically for the reason that it was sheer. As cold as it is in the castle during this season, you had the slight hopeful feeling it wouldn't be cold in here for long.
Severus entered the room quietly, the only sound giving him away being the slight turn of the door knob. The candle light was just enough to make out the soft blur of his features, casting shadows on the right side of his face, highlighting the bridge of his nose, the slight crease of his brow.
You hummed. "Hi handsome."
The corner of his lip tugged up ever so slightly in an amused smile. Over a year of dating you had taught him well to stop trying to fight those compliments. However mich he disagreed with them, he was beginning to believe that somehow you actually believed the words you spoke to him.
"I apologize for being so late." He spoke. "The students are being... Somehow more unruly than usual."
You laughed, leaning against the stone frame of the window and running a hand through your hair. "Tell me about it. They couldn't care less about astronomy this week."
Severus stepped closer, closing the distance between you. His frame was radiating warmth, and the mixture of the cold and your longing drove you in for a hug. Stretching your arms around him, you felt his hand run up your back to rest protectively on the back of your head, his other hand around your waist, holding you close.
You inhaled, the scent of herbs and smoke filling your lungs. With an exhale you nuzzled yourself closer.
"It's cold in here." You murmered against his chest.
He scoffed. "Well I suppose so, when you're hardly wearing any clothes."
You placed your hands on his chest and pulled away to show off the nightgown even further. "I'm sure this counts as clothes Severus."
But the raise of his left eyebrow disagreed. Your eyes flicked up, meeting his intense gaze and just now realising the darkness that flickered in them.
A familiar heat grew between your legs as you recognized this look. You knew him well enough by now to know when he was fighting the urge to lay with you, and when he was losing. And boy, you would make sure he'd loose.
Severus's eyes trailed down your body, pausing at your breasts. Your nipples were hard from the cold and almost entirely visible from the sheerness of your white nightgown. You made a point to breathe with your chest and when his eyes met yours again in knowing, you batted your eyelashes, hoping the doe eyes would let him know what you were thinking.
The slight clench of his jaw told you he knew exactly what you wanted.
He stepped closer, backing you into the wall, gaze fixed on your eyes. Your lips parted as you felt the chill of the stone wall against your back and his firm grip on your waist.
His hand trailed up, fingers brushing just teasingly along your nipple. You gasped, feeling embarassingly needy under his touch, as his hand trailed up to cup your face, the other still firm on your waist.
"I'm not sure that this, piece of cloth, could ever keep you warm."
You stared at him, lips still parted. "I think... That it's perfectly fine..."
He cocked his head teasingly, the hand on your face leaving once again to trail downwards. This time, his touch was more direct, firming pinching your hardened nipple.
You gasped, exhaled, your breath fogging up what little space remained between the two of you.
He hummed knowingly, eyes still on you. "Not cold?"
He tugged this time, rolling your nipple between his fingers, teasingly.
You moaned quietly, knowing you couldn't keep up this charade much longer, but still feeling too shy to verbally ask for what you wanted so badly.
He leaned in, breath hot against your ear as he continued to touch your chest, this time fondling your entire breast, the other hand reaching to cup the back of your neck.
"What did I say.." He whispered, "About using that pretty mouth of yours."
You whimpered at his words. "Sev..."
"Words, darling. Tell me what you need."
All restraint you had melted away. It was embarassing, how quickly you could lose yourself in this man. How simply his voice and hand on your chest could make you crave him so badly.
With another whimper, you squirmed underneath him.
"Please.. Touch me Sev..."
Before his name even left your mouth, his mouth was on your neck. Leaving soft, peppering kisses that turned into bites and lovemarks, only to continue with the delicacy, alternating between them. All restraint gone with your verbal permission, his right hand slid down and up under the nightgown until his fingers met your warmth.
He groaned ever so slightly into your neck, the hand on the back of it tightening it's grip.
"Nothing underneath? Someone was planning this..." He murmered, contiuing his kisses on your neck. His fingers began tracing your wetness, teasingly flicking over your clit before tracing your center again.
Soft whimpers escaped your mouth, impatience growing inside you. "Wanted you.. I want you..."
His middle finger brushed your clit once more, elicitng a gasp from you, before returning back to where it was.
He kissed your jaw. "So badly you're wearing practically nothing to get my attention hmm?"
You nodded quickly, eyes closing as his fingers continued to tease you.
"You dirty, needy thing."
In an instant, you were picked up and gently placed on the bed near the candle light. His grip now tight on your thighs, Severus towered over you at the end of the bed between your legs. In the light you could now clearly see the tightness of his pants, the mess of his hair, the need in his eyes. He looked possessive, almost primal and yet, so very gentle.
Your spread legs caused your nightgown to bunch up on your waist, revealing you in your entireity to Severus, who was now staring between your legs with a hungry gaze.
His eyes flicked up towards you, silently asking for permission.
"Yes, Severus. Please." It came out barely a whisper, more breathy than vocal, but enough for him to fall to his knees at the end of the bed and drag you closer to him.
You gasped he began kissing you gently on the thighs, approaching your cunt closer and closer.
It always amazed you, how dominant yet gentle Severus could be. He showed you everyday he loved you, in every way he possibily could. Even in bed, never once did he push you, nor act without your verbal permission. It made you want him even more.
His breath hot against you, he finally dove in. Flicking his skilled tongue up you, teasingly, agonizingly slow.
You moaned, louder, clearer than your previous ones. The warmth, the wetness, in contrast to the freezing temperature of your room. It felt like heaven, and when you looked down at Severus you realised this might be his heaven too.
You had never looked at him while he's done this to you. Despite always feeling comfortable, you still felt slightly embarassed and vulnerable as he did this. But as you looked down that melted away.
The candlelight danced upon his face, showing you how madly lustful he looked. His gaze looked tenderly up at you, black eyes gentle and soft, but full of desire. Upon seeing this, you moaned his name, louder this time, as his tongue once again teasingly flicked across your clit.
That must have snapped something within him, as his hands on your thighs gripped you even closer to him, pulling you in as if he was starving, and Merlin, did he begin to act like he was starving.
In an instant, his teasing turned into full force, devouring. His mouth tight against your cunt, eyes closed in concentration, fingers digging painfully into your thighs and his tongue, flicking deliberately, quickly, rhymatically over your clit.
The moan you let out was practically a scream as you arched your back, tossing your head back against the mattress. Your body squirmed on it's own accord, but Severus held you tightly in place, only your upper body able to move, your arms gripping the sheets beside you, tugging at the pillows above you, the wall, Severus's soft hair, anything. Searching for release.
You chanted his name like a prayer. A tangled mess of pleas and whimpers and his name. "Pl-please Sev, oh my fuck. Sev! Please, please, shit!"
The knot in your stomach tightening, you began to tremble, thighs shaking against his head.
You frantically jerked your head down to find Severus's eyes now open, tongue still quick against you, gaze firm but gentle. He broke away from your cunt for only a second, quickly muttering: "My pretty girl, come for me my love."
And that was all it took. The thread breaking in an instant, waves of pleasure riding over you as you lost control, shaking, trembling, whimpering and moaning his name as you grinded your cunt against his face, feeling him moan as he tasted your orgasm.
You whimpered as you came down from your high, Sev placing gentle kisses on your thighs as he pulled away and leaned on top of you. His hands found your face, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as he leaned in and gently kissed your lips.
"So beautiful, my darling girl. Sweet, sweet girl." He murmered between kisses as you panted, trying to catch your breath.
You felt his hardness pressing on you gently, eliciting another small, overstimulated whimper from your face.
He kissed your cheek softly. "We don't have to my love, if you're too sensitive."
Though your heart swelled, you smirked as you flung your arms around him and pulled him closer, need still coursing through you.
"If you want to, Sev... I very much, want to."
Severus smiled gently, kissing you again on the lips before leaning back to kneel on the edge of the bed between your thighs. He began unbuttoning his pants, watching as your chest rose and fell with each breathe, your breats exposed as your nightgown lay tangled on your exhausted body.
"Oh," He said lowly. "I very much want to."
He stroked himself gently before leaning in. Out of instinct, you reached to the bottom of your night gown to pull it over your head and toss it at the side.
"No." He said firmly, hands stopping yours. "You wanted to wear it so badly, then you will get fucked in it."
As it was possible for you to get wetter...
You removed your hands, placing them gently on his shoulders as he adjusted himself.
He met your gaze, stilling.
You nodded.
"Words, darling." He murmered.
And for a moment you almost forgot them. Entranced by how beautiful he looked between you in the candle light, hair messy, cock in hands, eyes dark and dominant...
But you found them, of course, whispering: "Fuck me Severus. Please..."
He smiled, gently, leaning forward to be closer to you, now completely draped over you like a curtain and gently pushed himself in.
You gasped, always somehow forgetting how to adjust to his size. It wasn't a sharp, painful ache. You were more than ready for him, and he always made sure of that. But it was more of a stretch, as Severus slowly sunk all the way in, filling you completely.
He groaned against your ear. Right hand now on your waist, left arm by your head. "So warm... So ready for me... Are you alright, my love?"
You whimpered, having adjusted to the size and feeling complete pleasure overtake the initial discomfort. "Yes, fuck. So good, move."
He laughed, leaning in again to kiss your cheek as he began to move, slowly. "Impatient thing, where are your manners bratty girl? I know you have them."
You whimpered taking it upon yourself to grind on him faster, bucking your hips up and feeling instant relief, though only for a brief moment.
Severus hand pushed your waist back down into the bed, his other tangled into your hair and very slightly, but firmly gripped it.
"My, you are impatient. Where's my good girl, hmm?" He bit ever so gently the soft of your neck just under your jaw, drawing out a whimper. "Ask, nicely."
And you caved, desperate to be properly fucked. "Please Severus. Fuck me, hard. Rough. Please."
You didn't have to ask twice. His grip tightened, pushing you harder into the bed as he began to fuck you at an incredible pace, slamming into your G-spot rough and fast.
"Fuck!" You screamed, feeling your breasts move with the fast pace of which Severus was now slamming into you.
He let out a raspy, half groan-half laugh into your neck. "Dirty mouth. Such a desprete little thing. Is this what you wanted?" He asked.
His pace consistant, he slammed into you again and again, mercilessly sucking on your neck, hands gripping at you. Every cell on your body felt as if it were on fire as the heat in your stomach grew, your second orgasm already approaching.
"I know this is what you wanted love. I know." He murmered, groaning slightly as he continued to pound into you. "So beautiful for me, so needy. Merlin, I love you. I love you so fucking much..."
His face was now burried in your neck, groaning deep, low moans as he fucked you.
You whimpered, your body beginning to shake even harder than before. The bed creaked, groaned, though not as loud as you, who was a whimpering, babbling mess. "I l-love... fuck. I-I love y-you, Sev fuck!"
He groaned. "I know darling, I know. My sweet girl. So fucking good for me. Letting me use you like this, my baby."
You could feel now he was slipping. His pace becoming rapid, desprete and rhythim faltering. He moved his hand from your waist to raise your thigh, pulling you somehow closer and managing to fuck you deeper.
And that was the last straw for you. The thread in your stomach snapped, orgasm washing over you with such a force you clawed and dug at Severus's back as you trembled, screaming and shaking and squirting on him again and again.... and again...
He made a sound that only be described as a sort of whimper, feeling your walls tighten around him and the increased wetness of your orgasm. He fucked you even faster, even harder.
"Y/n." He said quickly, rushed. "Gonna... Fuck...."
You whimpered, still riding your high as he fucked your overstimulated body.
"Severus... Please.." You cried.
His hips faltered, body shuddering and he whimpered again, this time pulling you closer to him as he jerked, finally stilling inside you, panting.
You panted, whimpered as he pulled out gently. When you opened your eyes you saw him staring hungrily between your legs, watching his cum drip from you.
"My girl." He whispered, looking up tenderly to meet your gaze.
He crawled beside you, pulling your nightgown down over your body and your body close to him.
"My beautiful girl."
His hands in your hair, his lips on your forehead.
"My beautiful, beautiful girl."
He held you close enough to where you could hear his rapid heartbeat as it finally began to calm down in time with yours. Both of your breathing slowly returning to normal.
After a moment, he spoke. "Was that... alright my love? Did I hurt you? Was that, what you want-"
"Severus, that was perfect. Thank you, darling." You whispered, cutting him off before his fear of hurting you could creep in any further.
And then the comfortable silence that you could only ever feel in his presence filled the air again, shared only with the sound of the cold, December wind outside the window.
Severus carassed your arm, feeling no goosebumps.
"Warmer now?" He murmered.
You smirked, nuzzling closer to his chest. "Very much so."
la fin
132 notes · View notes
ipegchangbin · 1 year
Text
— after hours with changbin 💗
🏷️ fluff, suggestive, aftercare (post smut scene)
changbin was stunned. he felt too much and too little at the same time. unable to move, his arms stilled around your back, tensing in place.
you both took many deep breaths before you pecked his lips with a light kiss. earth seemed to return to him.
after another kiss with his eyes beautifully fluttered shut, he relaxed his hold around you and smiled. he looked gentle, angelic, peaceful; not a single hint of exhaustion was written on his face save for the sweat rolling down his forehead and prettily smudged makeup.
“mmm, y/n…” he mumbled shyly and pouted, asking for yet another kiss on his lips.
he was a sight to fall in love with for the 365th time around. 
“ah-ah-ah, we have to clean up first—”
“no! one more kiss.” changbin jutted his lips even more forward, mustering all the remaining strength left in him to make that cute pleading face you couldn’t resist.
“fine,” you gave in. his hands found the back of your head and hugged you closer. 
it took you both multiple pecks and a bit of tongue before pulling away. only then did you both realize you were still connected at the lower half. you smiled as changbin whined, wanting to relish more in the sensation of being with you, but understanding that the scene was over and he needed to take his — ruined — lingerie off.
everything else happened in moments separated by changbin’s sleepy blinks. one, you whispered something to him. two, you got up from the bed — he remembered reluctantly letting you go. three, you dragged him to the bathroom. four, you pulled his clothes off and sat him in the tub. five, you kissed him again, this time long and prettily, waking him up just a little bit more.
the soothing feeling of your hands on his face quickly replaced your lips leaving his. he could feel so many things at once: your body close to his, the warm water running around you both, the smell of fresh soap and shampoo in the air, the suds and bubbles floating around. changbin swore he was in heaven and almost forgot everything that transpired beforehand. he would’ve forgotten his name by now, only remembering yours.
“i love you” escaped his lips almost instinctively. you tapped his nose in response, parroting it back. it made him blush intensely and melt in your palms.
“wait, i still have to wash your face properly!” you giggled. he smiled wider at the sound of your laugh. his eyes disappeared into crescents, dimples deepening, and he glowed so much.
you rubbed soothing circles around his cheeks with a trusty cleanser. you made sure to scrub whatever remained of the makeup he asked you to put on him. after the first round of cleansing, his head started to feel heavy, and his eyes were shut closed again, but he was still smiling and pouting.
“are you with me, binnie?” you asked.
“mmm, no.” he teased.
you tapped his cheeks with the lightest chuckle. “come on! stay with me, just a bit longer then we can sleep.”
he scrunched his nose, opening his eyes with all the might in the world to stay awake. “okay, okay! i’m right in here.”
“where?”
his eyes finally fluttered open. he was greeted with your smile, teeth in full view, eyes with entire galaxies in them. he scanned everything from the apples on your cheeks down to the little marked details of your face. your eyelashes only looked more prominent because of the water that made its way to them. he looked at your skin that glistened, flushed with all sorts of color and wonder. waking up was a struggle but seeing his favorite view of all time made everything worth it.
you were, still are, and will always be everything to him. you loved him best, he loved you best. sometimes it was hard for him to believe that you were real. you’re everything he wanted, needed, and more. you’re everything he is, admired, and aspired to be. he’d fallen for you again, for the 365th time — or was it the 730th? 1095th?
“…in where?” you reiterated, bursting the bubble in front of him.
“in…love. with you.”
525 notes · View notes