#i always wanted it to end with him going to work for the feds or being a nypd fbi liasion

[mywrittings]

abandoned building / eddie munson

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: Joining the Hellfire club has been one of the best things you had done. You met new friends but became very good friends with the leader. One of the things he really liked doing with you was exploring new places and tonight was no different. Or was it?

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 3.9k+

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: 18+ ONLY smoking a cigarette, kissing, explicit language, some fingering, unprotected sex, some spit

𝒶/𝓃: ahhh first of all, thank you so much for the amount of love on my last story about eddie. I cannot believe so many of you liked it???? It truly means a lot to me and I appriciate every single one of you for reading it. So thank you again, I don't know what else to say.

Now this story is um...well... I was going to go for a more softer approach but I said HECK NO. Not yet. So here you go, I hope you like this one just as you liked the other one!

It was a typical night in the town of Hawkins. Everyone was already fed up with the new school year a few days after it began. It almost felt like each year it all became harder to bear. From numerous homeworks to projects… It was a never-ending story.

But one good thing came out of all of this. You met some new friends when you joined a club called ‘Hellfire’. At first you weren’t sure what it was about as you only heard rumors passing through the school’s hallways but soon you learned about the game and the members that were part of it. 

The leader was called Eddie Munson and you had become close friends with him out of all of them. It helped that you both shared the love for the same music and dressed in similar ways.  Never in your life had you connected with someone so quickly, he made you feel so welcomed and even if you were a newbie, the rest of the members grew fond of you fast.

However the only difference between Eddie, you and the others was that you two would hang out in private. The conversations you two had went way out of the Hellfire club so you would see one another in various places. Sometimes at his home, sometimes at yours but also often at random places. It’s not like you were hiding from the rest, they knew you were hanging out but others would not get your slang and the topics you would be talking about.

Tonight was no different. The night had fallen and spread all across the town and Eddie had called you, telling you he’s going to pick you up and that you two would be going to a new location. He told you it was a new one, saying that there is lots to unravel and you instantly knew he wanted to explore a new area of Hawkins. 

Hawkins in itself was a huge surprise. People said it was cursed, due to last year's events, where people had died and it all was still a mystery to some. So you would be lying if you had said that you were not scared. But most of the time the places Eddie finds are pretty well lit up and there’s people nearby so that was calming you, while you were driving to the area. 

‘’How did you find this place then?’’ you ask, as you look outside the car window, the soft yellowish lights passing by, leading to yet another road

‘’Well you won’t like what I’m going to say but I was delivering a package and had seen it.’’  he replies back, tapping at the wheel and you turn your head to him

Package meaning he was delivering drugs to someone. Many times you told him not to go to strange places to do the exchange, rather meet somewhere with people but Eddie told you that it doesn’t work like that. He told you he could get caught, so meeting elsewhere was much more secure which didn’t make sense to you. Ever since you found out about that, you’d always tell him to call you afterwards, to make sure he was okay. 

‘’Ah, so it’s a scary area.’’ you nod, noticing as the lights behind you kept disappearing into the night and soon the road would be overtaken with darkness

‘’It’s not scary Y/n. I’ll be by your side,’’ he squeezes your knee ‘’Don’t you know I’m the master player of D&D. No man could beat me.’’ he boasts and you only roll your eyes but chuckle afterwards

The road suddenly became narrow, meaning that if two cars meet they wouldn’t be able to pass by each other. On the left side as you drove by was a random destroyed house, fully overgrown with grass and trees, sticks poking through the windows. On the right was more grass, followed by some more trees and in the distance you could see a light. 

‘’Is that where this new location is?’’ you point in front of you and hear Eddie hum in response

Sure enough as the light kept getting bigger, a big building stood before you. In front of it, it seems there were parking spaces once but the lines were so hard to see. Lights spread out around the space but the building was dark. Shattered windows, shattered doors. It was abandoned, nobody had been here for years. 

‘’Oh you gotta be kidding me. We are exploring this?!’’ you yell, now turning your entire body to him

‘’Yes, yes we are.’’ he had a grin on his face, he was so excited to see this area again

‘’As if there is anything to explore here!’’ you motion with your hand towards the building but Eddie keeps smiling. I mean you’d at least think it was some sort of old museum or anything that would be worthy enough to get out and have a look around but this was just mind blowing.

‘’Ah come on, you have to admit the building looks cool.’’ but there was nothing cool about it, I mean it was just an old building. You couldn’t even make out what the sign read that was holding on for dear life at the top, near the roof. 

‘’Eddie, this is garbage. And also we are in the middle of nowhere,’’ you kept pointing outside ‘’nobody would know if someone just sliced our throats or something.’’ 

‘’They wouldn’t know because it wouldn’t happen.’’ he comes to a stop and parks his car. You stall for a moment but get out too and quickly run over to his side. His arms were on his hips as he lifted his eyes to the building and just examined it for a moment.

‘’Eddie, let’s go back.’’ you plead but he grabs your hand and starts walking you further down

You could’ve taken the steps and walked up but Eddie had climbed on to a large ledge that looked like it could be a balcony and extended his hand out, helping you come up as well. When you turned around, your face was in horror. It looked so terrifying. The large parking lot, Eddie's car in the middle surrounded by nothing more than lights, grass and trees; you could feel your heartbeat going faster.

Eddie in the meantime, walks up and down a couple times, trying to find a way in. Once he sees a door open ajar he signals to you and both of you walk in. 

If you thought the area outside was horrendous this was on a whole other level. Glass scattered all over the area, walls broken down, stairs that missed a chunk in the middle, the list goes on. As you look up you see a large whole in the middle of the ceiling and you just hoped and prayed there wasn’t anyone looking at you from it. 

‘’Wow, I mean this is just amazing.’’ you sarcastically say but Eddie thought you were not kidding.

‘’Told you!’’

‘’Amazing to die. Are you serious, Eddie no, I am sorry but this location is bad.’’ you grab at his jacket and he stops in his tracks

‘’You hadn’t even seen the rest of it and you’re already judging, come on.’’  with his other hand he guides you to his fingers and he locks them with yours. A tight squeeze around it and just for a moment you felt safe. 

Eddie had a thing for touching you, it was his way of expressing when sometimes words wouldn’t be enough. Even if it was just a small touch on your skin, you understood him clearly. In situations like this he was extra touchy, holding your hand or having his hand on your lower back. In just a small short amount of time you had met him and already you were so close to one another.

As you groan, still protesting as Eddie begins walking you up the stairs. These ones were different from the first ones you saw; they didn’t have the giant chunk of it missing. The stairs were pretty wide so you walked beside him, not letting go of his hand. You thought this is the right floor but he went up another one, until at last you were at the top. 

‘’So this is what you-...’’ before you could say anything further, you stopped, letting go of Eddie’s hand and your eyes were stunned. Right in front of you in the distance was almost the entire Hawkins. 

The lights coming from the town, illuminated the area, that same yellowish color, fell onto the city while blending in with other lights. Those came from houses, other buildings… This is exactly what you liked about Hawkins. It had its magic at an hour like this, that’s why you enjoyed going out and exploring but you did not think a piece of that magic would be waiting for you here.

‘’Eddie this is…’’ you were speechless, it was breathtaking that on top of some random beat up building is an overview of the town

‘’Amazing? Beautiful? Stunning?’’ he was picking all the right names for this little hidden gem as he walked past you

‘’I can’t believe this.’’ you gasp, your eyes were glistening, reflecting those lights as you stepped closer where Eddie was standing

There was a medium-sized wall built up around the roof area, which didn’t really do much if you weren't careful and one could easily fall and go straight into the depths. Not to mention there were cracks here and there, you questioned yourself ‘how is this still standing here?’.

‘’I knew you’d like it. Might be scary but once you come to the top, it’s a whole different story.’’ Eddie crosses his arms and puts them on the wall, he too was staring at the view. 

‘’There’s our Hawkins. Gosh, I love this town.’’ you adored it, even after all the strange occurances, this was still your town, where you grew up and met your friends.

‘’Yup and there’s so much more to it I’m sure.’’ Eddie was always thinking one step further. He hadn’t even finished exploring one place, he was already onto the next one with his mind. 

Eddie then takes out a small packet of cigarettes from his pocket. He pulls one out and lends you it but you don’t take it. He smirks, placing it between his lips before lighting it.  

‘’Oh so now you don’t smoke?’’ he laughs, taking one puff out of it, the smoke going up in the air 

‘’Sometimes, I’m not like you Eddie.’’ you lean your back to the wall, observing him inhaling again

‘’Like what?’’ he taps away the ashes, some falling onto his jeans and you notice him cursing to himself which made you giggle

‘’I am not a regular smoker.’’ You had smoked before knowing Eddie. It would just be occasionally at a party or when you’d get super stressed but you made sure this wouldn’t become a regular thing for you.

‘’I thought you were going to say something else.’’ he rubs his forehead, by now he’s standing in front of you

‘’Oh that you’re what like ruining your health?’’ you raise your eyebrows and Eddie laughs, as he looks up at the sky

‘’Something like that yes.’’  he nods with his head, as he takes a small step towards you. He puts the cigarette back in his mouth as both of his hands reach to your jacket, where he plays with the zipper. You look down as he’s fiddling with it, trying to put it in the hatch.

‘’What are you doing?’’ you question as he continues struggling with it

‘’Well you’re ruining your health as well if your jacket is opened like this.’’ he mumbles, tilting his head up as he looks at you

‘’You are unbelievable Eddie.’’ you beam, as you reach down and try to help him. 

But then your fingers touch, as Eddie hadn’t taken his hands away yet. He doesn’t pull away, rather lingers his fingers on top of yours. You could feel your hands getting clammy, a tingling sense around them. He looks down again at the sudden physical touch and even if he had touched you before, this one felt different. 

He suddenly takes his hands away as the cigarette in his mouth had burned up a good amount,  the ashes were barely holding on to the end and he takes it out and throws it on the floor. 

‘’What about my health?’’ you ask, trying to conceal the sudden silence

He was still close to you, looking down on the ground this time but soon he grasped your fingers. Guiding your hands to the inside of his jacket. He wraps it around your hands and you could feel his heartbeat.

‘’Better?’’  his voice sounded so earnest, his eyes were focused on you now 

‘’Yeah.’’  you quickly reply

‘’Y/n…’’ 

‘’Yeah?’’

‘’Can you fuck me?’’ 

You freeze and stare with your eyes wide open. Never during your friendship had he ever asked something like that, not even joke with you. You’ve had conversations about sex but that’s when you’d be talking about your personal experiences. 

‘’If I c-can fuck you?’’ you repeat after him and he nods, his tongue poking the corner of his mouth

‘’Yes. I want you to fuck me.’’ each time he’d say something similar, you felt your heart rate jump up. 

‘’Eddie I’m so confused right now are you joking or?’’ you could barely say that, the air got so thick, your hands still remained on his chest

‘’I’m not joking. I’m serious Y/n.’’ he mildly squeezes your fingers but it still wasn’t getting through your head

Eddie very slowly places your hands on his back, wrapping them around underneath his jacket. That causes you to move forward and you could closely smell his scent. A mix of cigarettes and cologne that he always liked to wear were merging together. He lets go of your hands and tenderly touches your lips with the tip of his finger, his other hand grabs at your face, drawing you in to himself.

‘’Fuck me Y/n. Please. I have been dying for that pussy for some time now.’’ he hissed, leisurely attaching his plump lips to your earlobe. He gently bites on it, making you say his name.

 ‘’Eddie.’’ 

‘’Y/n, you and I both know friends don’t touch each other the way we do.’’  he continues moving down, where he stops by the neck. ‘’I know you fucking feel it too.’’ You feel his tongue at the side of your neck before he sucks on your skin, his lips were so cushiony like small clouds had tickled at you.

His hand that was before on your lips, goes behind you to the wall as his body pushes up against you. In response you let go of him, pressing your hands on the wall as well, Eddie’s lips still lingering around your neck.

‘’Tell me you feel it Y/n.’’ he pressed a soft peck on your neck, returning back up. His gleaming eyes that were exhibiting a desire, were gazing at you. 

Your eyes transfer to his lips. He had the most perfect lips ever. Full, slightly reddish and so soft. Eddie had taken notice of you staring at him and before he could speak another word you kissed him. It was probably the most heated kiss ever. You craved that kiss and that confirmed it. Both of you were savoring it, even if it was heated it was perfect. Your breathing united as Eddie’s tongue entered your mouth and he was such a good fucking kisser. His tongue was so warm as it went in and twisted around with yours.  You could hear him groan, causing you to moan back. 

Your mind was hazy, you weren’t sure if you were dreaming or if it was real; the fact that you and Eddie were kissing one another. You didn’t even know that you had made it so obvious whenever he’d touch you, you’d react in a certain way. And maybe even yourself didn’t know that all of that skinship was different than it should be between friends.

‘’Fuck me right now.’’ he suddenly pulls away as he was heaving loudly from the kiss

‘’Here? At this building?’’ you breathy say

‘’Yes. I can’t wait, I need you right now.’’ The scenery was beautiful but to fuck here where there’s so many things shattered and God only knows what could happen? But at the same time you liked the idea. It was thrilling when you thought about him fucking you at a wrecked place like this. 

So you push your lips back onto his, this time your bodies fused together and you could feel his cock that was hard as a rock. Eddie’s hands seep from your back to your ass. He firmly squeezes it while pressing himself into you and you shudder. 

‘’Turn around.’’ he instructs and you listen, placing your hands back on the wall, as Eddie quickly pulls your jeans down along with your panties. He doesn’t give you time to take them off, instead he spreads your legs with his knee a bit and you hear him spit on his hand. 

Before you know it he has his fingers on your pussy. At first he fastly wiggles his fingers around, covering your clit with his spit before he parts your pussy lips. You shiver in your place, once you feel his middle finger graze over the entrance and you could hear how aroused you were. He had long fingers and once he put one inside and bent it at the end, your knees began to shake.

‘’Oh my god.’’ Eddie grunts as his body pushes up against you, his cock was now nudging at your ass. 

He leaves your pussy alone for a moment as you hear him lick his fingers; lick them clean. He goes back in but as he’s massaging your pussy he manages to take his jeans off, followed by his underwear. With his other hand he places you in a position where you are now leaning forward, making him gain a lot more access to your pussy. You cry out a moan once his tip is smothering around it.  

‘’Give me your hand.’’ you take your right hand off the wall and Eddie clasps his fingers around your wrist. Shortly after you feel him place the palm of your hand to the head of his cock. Your instant instinct was to wrap it around his tip, awakening a groan from Eddie. His hand doesn’t let go of yours but he guides it to your entrance.

As it goes in you tightly grab at the wall and yelp once you feel him inside of you. From there on he lets go of your hand and you too let go of his cock, your pussy tightly wrapping around it. His hands grazes up your back and goes back down, softly touching at your ass before he harshly smacks it. 

He sets the motion and at first it is steady but then he quickly switches gears and begins hammering himself inside of you. His hips were clashing with your ass and he’d whip at it every now and then, which you knew would leave a good red mark. 

‘’Fuck me, fuck me, bounce that ass on me Y/n,’’ he pants as he was deep inside of you ‘’Yes, yes just like that.’’ he adds, his cock was filling you up and you felt shaky. He was sliding in and out of you so slickly and you were barely able to catch his pattern of movements.

‘’All the Hawkins looking at you tonight getting fucked huh,’’ he presses up against you so that his chest was touching your back ‘’Bet you like that hm?’’ he whispers, the words finding their way to your pussy as it vibrated when he’d barely use his voice. 

‘’Eddie oh my god.’’ adrenaline rushed everywhere along your body, that feeling of him being so close to you was what you craved right now. You wanted his skin on top of yours, you wanted to feel his chest touch your back. But he takes it a step further as one of his hands wraps around your neck the other one tightly going around your stomach. He had more pressure this way as he was pulling your hips down harder. 

‘’I want you to milk my cock baby, get every bit of cum out, I want to see it drip out of you once we’re done,’’ he says that in between railing himself in your pussy ‘’do you understand?’’ 

‘’Mhmm…’’ you whine, as his hand was around your neck, lifting your head up to place an open mouth kiss behind your neck before you feel his forehead laying on your shoulder. His cock was tense, you could sense him being close and your body was also ready to dive into the pleasure of orgasming.

Eddie suddenly pulls out of you and turns you around. He puts his cock back inside of you and you finally are able to see his face. 

‘’I have to look at you while I cum,’’ he smirks ‘’I wanna see that pretty face while you milk every drop of my cum.’’ and that’s what made you shatter as time suddenly slowed down and you could feel the build up reach all the way to the top.  

‘’Cum on my cock baby, cum with me.’’ Eddie rasps and you instantly feel yourself getting filled with his hot cum, which causes you to grip around him, both of your bodies shaking. Your moans die down once you compose yourself but still feel the heartbeat of your pussy.

‘’Holy fuck Y/n…’’ Eddie pulls out of you and you tremble but he catches you ‘’Come here.’’ he kisses your lips so sweetly, like he wanted to make sure you were okay, even if he had just fucked the shit out of you.

‘’I can’t believe we just fucked here.’’ he laughs, his nose touching yours 

‘’I can’t either, I don’t know how you convinced me to do it here.’’ you respond back as Eddie so slowly deepens the kiss

‘’You’re so fucking gorgeous you know that?’’ he admires you but only for a short moment because it had gotten so cold that you were trembling in your place and once you got dressed and cleaned yourself as much as you could you both returned back to Eddie’s car.

‘’No, sit on top of me.’’ he protests as you sit in the passenger seat but soon wiggle yourself on him. He encloses his arms around you, squeezing you so tight before he kisses you again. 

‘’We probably could’ve fucked here.’’ he raises his eyebrows, observing his car that was clean for once

‘’But we didn’t because you wanted the whole Hawkins to know that we were having sex.’’  you joke back

Eddie bites his lip with a grin on his face ‘’Well yeah, I want the whole of Hawkins to know you’re mine. That this tight pussy milked me so fucking good that I can’t wait to fuck it again.’’

‘’Well too bad that I’m going home after this.’’ you pout your lips and try to get back on your seat but he’s faster than you and brings you back down

‘’Don’t go home Y/n. I won’t be able to fall asleep without you. Not after everything that just happened.’’ 

You ponder for a moment but you knew you were only joking when you said that you were going home. ‘’Will you sing me to sleep? I kinda miss you playing for me.’’

‘’Anything, anything just to make you stay.’’

[xxsabitoxx]

Good Girl

Fed up Giyu x Bratty fem! Reader

Warnings: public sex, outdoor sex, rough sex, name calling, degrading, face fucking, hand riding, dirty talk, hate sex, humiliation, descriptions of masturbating, drooling, cum swallowing, breeding, creampies, possessive giyu, semi-forced breeding. I think that’s most of it

A/N: it’s been forever since I posted a fic ;—; I also need to desperately update my Masterlist so plz bear with me. I’m also hoping there are no major spelling errors lol, I’m typing fast when I write these. Also grammar? Don’t comment on it if it’s bad 😐

Anyways here is some Giyu filth :)

Word count: 4.2k exactly. Pretty proud of that

“You think you are so fucking clever, don’t you?” Your chest was squished into one of the exterior walls of the butterfly estate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tomioka.” You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his chest was pressed into your back pushing even further into the wall. “Stop playing stupid, you’ve been a little fucking whore all day.” You gasped, a smug smile creeping up your features. “What vulgar language! That’s no way to speak to a lady, Tomioka.”

You felt something hard pressing into your ass, butterflies turning into a frenzy when you realized it had totally worked. “You feel it? All because you want to go around teasing me in front of everyone. I mean really y/n, wearing a short little skirt? How fucking immature of you.” You snorted, wiggling your hips against this evident arousal. “Shameful isn't it, Tomioka? The fact that you got so turned on by it? You say I’m immature for pulling such stunts…yet here you are trying to dry hump me like some bitch in heat.”

He groaned, the hands gripping your waist tightened significantly. “You know I’m right!” You laughed harshly, the throb between your legs was becoming more and more persistent. “Shut the fuck up.” He caught you off guard, hands flipping you over and slamming you back against the wall. He left no room between your bodies, one hand coming up to plant itself firmly over your lips. “I’m going to teach you how to fucking behave.” Your eyes widened a bit, smiling against his hand.

“Let’s discuss what you did today Hmm?” Giyu pressed you even further into the wall, the wood beginning to bite into your shoulders. The position was suffocated, with your body completely sandwiched between Giyu and the wall you couldn’t move. “Let's start with what you chose to wear. You always go for uniform pants, yet today you chose a skirt. Not only did you choose a skirt, you hiked that skirt so far up that you were one gust of wind away from showing the world your pussy.” You stiffened, teeth clenching significantly.

“Though I bet you would have liked that, huh? Showing off your cunt like it’s a fine piece of jewelry. You’d let anyone stuff themselves in there and get their fill, wouldn't you little whore?” You made a squealing noise, almost completely muffled by Giyu’s hand. Maybe you had taken things too far. “Don’t act like I didn’t see you feeling Shinazugawa up. Oh he was fucking eating it up too. Just watching you flaunt yourself around in front of him makes my fucking blood boil.” Your hands remained by your side, too awestruck to try and defy Giyu.

His free hand moved freely, drawing his hips back just enough that he could slip between the two of you. “Tell me, do you fantasize about Shinazugawa? I bet you’d let him fuck your cunt like the world was ending tomorrow. You’d let him fill you up over and over again with his cum. Maybe you’d even hope to carry his babies…” Giyu trailed off, hand still firmly placed over your mouth. You stared at him wide eyed, eagerly awaiting his next move. “How about Rengoku? You sure seemed friendly with him too. He likes to act so high and mighty, oh so innocent.” Giyu’s hand cupped your panty covered sex, groaning at the heat radiating from between your legs.

“You should have seen him, you barely left anything to the imagination. Even Tengen was eating you up, as if the bastard doesn’t have three wives to satisfy his needs.” The heel of Giyu’s palm began rubbing rough circles. Not really aiming for your clit, he just wanted to hear the slick noises you were already beginning to make. “Listen to that, what an attention whore. I bet you’d fucking strip naked and fuck yourself with your own fingers if they asked you too.” A harsh laugh left him as he felt your cunt contract and twitch, you were loving this. “You’re so fucked up.” The grin on his face was cold, palm digger deeper and making you yelp into his hand.

“You’re imagining it, aren’t you?” His voice had dropped an octave, his volume lowering with it. You nodded shamelessly, the idea of getting off in front of the other pillar men had you giddy. Especially since you knew it pissed Giyu off to no end. “Tell me…” he lifted his hand off your mouth. “What would you do? Describe it for me…” the hand that had been on your mouth hand lowered to your breast. “What I’d do? Y-you want me to describe how I’d fuck myself?” He nodded, squeezing the tender flesh and liking the way you stuttered. “And I’m the fucked up one…” you were breathless as he stopped palming you. Instead his hand moved to slip under the waistband of your panties, making contact with bare flesh.

“Oh~” you swallowed thickly, trying to compose yourself enough to speak. “I’d probably start with a strip tease, but only my top. I’d want them to see my bare breasts fall from my binding. See the way my nipples would harden from the cool air and my own hormones.” Two fingers slipped between slick folds, easily finding your clit and pinching. “Keep going, little slut. Be a good girl for me and continue.” Your eyes fluttered, cheeks growing hot as Giyu found a balance between rubbing and pinching your clit. “I’d play with my tits…In the way they wish they could. Squeezing them, pinching my own nipples, moaning their names…”

The idea of Tengen, Sanemi and Kyojuro watching you play with yourself had you clenching around nothing at all. “Keep going.” Giyu’s hips were restless, you could tell part of him wanted to abandon your breast and palm himself. So you did him a favor, hand tugging at his belt. “I’d tease myself until I was dripping…willing to grind on anything that would relieve the ache I felt.” You got the belt undone with the help of your other hand, to your surprise, Giyu allowed you to toss the material to the side. You didn’t hesitate shoving your hand under the waistband of his uniform pants, making contact with his throbbing cock. “You aren’t wearing…” he cut you off by pinching your clit harshly, earning a gasp.

“Continue.” You swallowed, hand struggling to pump him in the confines of his pants. “I-I need your opinion for this one…” you gasped as he moved quicker, fingers moving in perfect rhythm. “D-do you think it w-would be better to strip completely? O-or should I tease them by sp-spreading my legs and pushing my panties aside?” Giyu’s hand nearly stopped, a whine leaving your lips as you realized he was trying to visualize it. “I’d take them off, I’m sure they’d love to see your pretty, wet cunt on full display.” You nodded, eyes shutting as you realized you were nearing your end. He had barely done anything, how embarrassing.

“S-so I’d strip tease again, maybe bend all the w-way over and drag my panties down nice and s-slow.” Giyu could feel you twitch, you were close. “What would you do next?” He groaned softly as your hand tightened considerably around his length. He wished you’d just take a second and undo the button, letting them fall to his thighs and freeing his aching cock. But clearly he only had you occupied for a bit longer, so he could wait. “I-I’d sit down facing them, spread my legs wide and get comfortable.” You whined, your climax was almost in your reach. “T-then I’d start t-to tease myself.” Giyu smirked, “Go into detail or you won’t reach your orgasm.”

You gasped, “I’d start b-by dipping two fingers inside…just to get them nice and slick.” You couldn’t be bothered to care about what choice of words you picked, not when you were this close to coming in his hand. “Yeah? Tell me what you’d do next little slut.” You whined, grinding your hips down on his fingers. “I’d start playing with my clit…I’d rub like you are right now~” your head fell back against the wall, shaky gasps leaving you as your orgasm washed over you. “Oh? That’s it, cum all over my hand, make a fucking mess. Good girl.” You squealed at his sudden praise, hips jerking as his hand never slowed. “How fucking filthy, I can feel you coming.”

Giyu’s fingers finally slowed when your hips stopped jerking, instead rubbing slow languid circles over the sensitive skin. “I never said you could stop talking.” You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts and figure out where you had left off. “I-I…I’d…” you stuttered over yourself, not even sure how to continue. “You said you’d play with yourself, rub your clit for them, right? So what would you do next?” Giyu’s fingers left your clit, sliding further down until he was met with your slippery entrance. He used his thigh to spread your legs further. The hand squeezing your breast moved to start undoing the buttons of your top. “I’d…probably start playing with my…my breasts…” as each button popped open, your breathing picked up. “Hmm? What would you do to your breasts?”

Giyu’s hand pressed, not entering you but creating pressure. His leg spread you even further. This wasn’t exactly his ideal location to take out his annoyance with you, but he’d have to make do. “I-I’d squeeze them…” you were starting to get embarrassed, how ironic. “Mmm? That it? Not much of a show.” His finger pulled away, a desperate whine leaving your lips. “T-tomioka please…” your hips shamelessly attempted to chase after his retreating fingers. “A little slut like you, doesn’t deserve to get their way. If anything, I gave you too much already. You came once, which was more than I intended to give you. I mean you could barely pump my cock. You should be on your knees making it up to me.”

Giyu seemed to ponder his own words for a moment, a smile creeping up his face. “Better yet…” his hands left your body where you wanted them most, shifting to your shoulders instead. Without another word, he pushed you down, forcing you to your knees. “Get to work, and maybe I’ll think about giving you more.” It was a sight to behold, the smirk on his smug, flushed face had you forgetting about everything else. Giyu watched you for a moment as you tugged the rest of your buttons open, shouldering off your uniform top. Your hands fumbled with the button of his pants, tugging the garment down to his mid thigh and exposing his cock. You were tempted to make another comment about his lack of underwear.

You chose not to, swallowing thickly as you took in his size. If you pleased him enough, you’d get to feel it. You whined, clenching around nothing at the very thought of him being inside of you. “Go ahead.” You were slightly sad he didn’t make a comment about your lack of a binding. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.” He somehow picked up on your disappointment and managed to fix it. You needed no further encouragement, hand wrapping firmly around his base and giving it a few harsh tugs. “Fuck…” his voice was strained, you forced yourself to be a little more gentle. “That’s it, good girl. Just like that.” Giyu cooed, watching you make slow pumps from base to tip. Your other hand came up and wrapped around him as well, both hands covered more ground. And, well, you could tell Giyu liked seeing how big he looked between both of your hands.

“Use your mouth.” You whimpered at the command, opening your mouth slowly and moving your head forward. Your tongue stuck out slowly, ghosting the bottom of his head. One of Giyu’s hands pressed to the wall, supporting his weight as he shifted his hips further. The motion was an attempt to coax you to take more, he was being gentle and giving you a chance. You took his tip into your mouth, tongue lavishing the irritated skin. “There we go…” his other hand came down to grab a fist full of your hair, tugging you harshly to take even more. You forced your jaw to relax, one hand remaining wrapped around his base while you let the other fall to your lap. “There we go, choke on it” He pushed further, nearly half his length was in your mouth.

“Choke on it.” He repeated, mouth parted as he jerked forward. You gagged the moment he hit the back of your throat, eyes watering nearly instantly. It took everything in you to relax your throat, tears slipping down your cheeks as you let him use you. Without much more warning, Giyu began thrusting steadily. He was heavy on your tongue but surprisingly smooth. “I-fuck-” You looked up at him through wet lashes. It was the most you could do to acknowledge him in that moment. The sight only made him move quicker, his orgasm was building in record time. Giyu had absolutely no intentions of holding back, he’d cum when he pleased. He was even tempted to leave you hanging once he got his release, but you looked so pretty with tears streaking your cheeks.

You did your best to stay relaxed, eventually you’d stop flinching when he hit the back of your throat. You could only begin to imagine what this must look like from an outsider's perspective. You could feel your own tears and drool leaking onto your exposed breasts. You were bare from the waist up, he was bare from the waist down. Part of you wished you could see this from an outsider perspective, the picture forming in your head had your throat constricting around him. “Shit.” You didn’t intend to, but the pressure had Giyu’s eyes losing focus. The sight from your view down below was quite encouraging. You tried hollowing your cheeks, eyes focused on his face as his hips stuttered. “Stop t-that.” He gripped your hair tighter than before.

You didn’t, if your mouth wasn’t occupied you would have smirked at him. Instead you swallowed around him, surprised he was keeping his cock buried in your throat instead of pulling out. Maybe he was going to cum just like that, shoot his load straight down your throat and force you to swallow it. You didn’t care that you could barely breathe, the lack of airflow only made your desire grow. Slowly both hands came up to cup his balls, watching in curiosity as his whole body stiffened. Giyu didn’t have the strength to even give a half assed “stop.” Instead he allowed you to continue, he’d get to cum either way. You remembered hearing that men supposedly liked the feeling as long as you were gentle. As annoying as he could be, you didn’t want to hurt him.

It didn’t take much more after that, his legs nearly buckling as his release spurted out of him. You choked slightly, trying to relax your throat again as he came. Whines left his lips at a pitch he would have found embarrassing had he not felt so good. As he came down you realised how flushed his face was. “Fuck.” He mumbled under his breath, pulling his softening cock out of your mouth while shouldering off his haori. “Are you satisfied now?” You watched his eyes roll, fingers easily undoing the buttons of his uniform top. “You are acting really bold for someone covered in their own tears and drool.” The last button was undone, his uniform parted to show his toned torso. Yet he didn’t take it off completely.

“Oh, bite me.” You stood on shaky legs, you half expected the whole exchange to be over. “Where do you think you’re going?” Giyu watched as you reached to put your top back on. “Aren’t we done here?” You suppress a smile, even after all of that you couldn’t give him a break. “No the fuck we aren’t.” You watched him step out of his pants the rest of the way, blue eyes scanning the area to confirm no one was present. “So you’re going to fuck me right here?” His uniform top came off, now he was fully exposed to any wandering eyes. You still clung to some of your dignity with your skirt shielding you. Instead of talking, he stepped closer, making you step back until you were back to square one. Once again you found yourself sandwiched between him and the exterior wall of the butterfly estate.

This time it hurt, bare skin was digging into the rough wood behind you. “I’m not finished with you, we still have some things to discuss.” His bare thigh was easily parting your own again, the pulsing returned, the ache had craving to feel him. “Like what? I thought we went over the fact that I’d willing fuck my self for Shinazugawa…Rengoku…Tengen…” his thigh lifted, pressing directly to your cunt. “Shut up and let me finish.” You we’re hot against his bare skin, his cock was already twitching back to life. “Since you started boring me with how you’d fuck yourself, tell me what you think they are like.” You blinked, not quite understanding. “Tell me how big you think they are, how good you think they’d fuck you compared to me.” For some reason, he seemed to enjoy you making him mad.

“Oh? Who should I start with.” You spread your legs wider for him, one hand braced on the wall behind you while his other reached for your skirt. “Uzui, or should I say, Tengen. Since you two seem to be on a first name basis.” You smiled as he picked up on it, hand flipping your skirt up in the process. “Oh I know Tengen is quite large.” You pretended to not care as he easily pulled your panties down, fully exposing your cunt. You didn’t have that much courage to forgo panties with your skirt so short. “You know?” Two fingers slid between slick folds, bypassing your clit and going straight to your entrance. He was going to try and break your composure again. “Oh of c-course I know.” His fingers slipped in, stretching you. “I talk to his wives all the time, they even invited me to join them once.” His fingers curled inside, ghosting your g-spot.

The hand bracing against the wall slipped away. Instead he wrapped it around his half hard cock, pumping it in time with his fingers thrusting. “Oh? You declined? How come.” Your head fell back, your fingers twitching as you grabbed for his open uniform. “C-cause I didn’t want him to ruin me before I could try the others. A cock like h-his has to be addicting.” Giyu’s fingers curled harshly, a cry leaving your lips as he watched you. He was nearly fully hard again, jaw clenched tight after an answer like that. “What about Rengoku? How do you think he is?” You didn’t get to finish talking about Tengen. “I’m not done talking about Tengen yet, I’ll move onto Kyojuro when I’m ready.” First name, same reaction.

This, however, seemed to break Giyu. His fingers left you abruptly, earning a gasp in response to the empty feeling. “I’ve had just about enough of your smart mouth.” You were stunned, “weren’t you the one that asked for this?” You gasped again as one of your legs was forcefully lifted. “I don’t care anymore.” Maybe he didn’t like it as much as you assumed. Giyu’s hand was gripping firmly under your knee, pushing it back until you nearly cried out in pain. The position was certainly awkward, your knee was nearly hitting the wall. All of this so he had easy access to your cunt. “W-why don’t we try a…” you wanted to suggest a different position. Instead you were cut off by the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Shut up and take it.” For once, you did as you were told. His hand guided him in, the dull head of his cock spread your walls open as entered you. “Oh…” the stretch burned due to little prep, but it subsided as quickly as it began. “So, tell me, how about Rengoku?” He was still doing this? Your head felt cloudy, you were absolutely stuffed and the awkward position isn't helping. “K-Kyojuro?” O-oh…he…” Giyu gave you no time to adjust, he was pulling his hips back just to slam forward again. “He-he’s probably a bit… smaller than Tengen…but he knows what he’s doing…” you were nearly tearing his uniform top with how tightly you gripped it. Giyu clicked his tongue, eyes trailing over your face before falling to where he was disappearing inside of you. “You better have something more interesting to say ab-about Shinazugawa.” His voice caught, he was more sensitive than he thought from his previous orgasm.

“I-oh fuck…” your head fell back, breasts bouncing with each thrust. Thinking about Sanemi made you clench tightly around Giyu, he groaned out of annoyance. “Go on, tell me all your fantasies about the bastard.” Your walls were fluttering around him, you could already feel your second release building. “Oh..fuck Shinazugawa…” you chose not to use his first name for the sake of your cervix. “He—he isn’t as big as Tengen either. But he knows how to use every fucking inch…” you held your breath, Giyu may honestly break you for what you were about to say. “I-ah fuck… he is so good in bed…had me screaming for hours.” Giyu’s hips faltered, eyes snapping to meet yours. “What was that?” He buried deep, head pressing to your cervix so harshly you were trying to ease the pressure by standing on your tiptoes.

“He-he had me screaming… oh fuck he was so good. It was…just to relieve some stress…though I wouldn’t mind doing it again….” Giyu’s grip was bruising, the hand he had used to guide himself was now coming up to wrap around your throat. “You fucked, Shinazugawa?” You nodded, eyes half lidded as his grip tightened. “S-sure did.” Giyu’s hips started moving with more vigor this time, a high pitched moan escaping you. Your back was digging further into the wall, you’d certainly feel the ache afterwards. “Why’d you fuck him?” You were clenching harshly, orgasm building up but dangling just out of your reach. “We w-were stressed…and a b-bit drunk…” your hands left his uniform, instead they wrapped around hos wrist. Practically holding the hand around your neck in place. “Hmm, so that’s all it takes to get you in bed.” You let out a harsh laugh as you finally came.

Your walls clenched tightly around him, whole body jerking as Giyu’s hips didn’t slow on pace. Anger was radiating off of him, his thrusts had become so erratic that you were beginning to lose feeling in the leg still planted on the ground. “G-giyu…” your words were slurred, whole body feeling heavy as he chased his own high for a second time. “Shut up.” There was still venom dripping from his tone, the hand on your neck was still tight. Truthfully it felt like it was the only thing really keeping you up. “You are going to take every single drop of this and fucking appreciate it. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t even try and fantasize about another man.” You nodded half heartedly, you’d agree to anything so long as he didn’t stop.

A few more thrusts and he was done for, hot seed spilling between your walls. Silence fell over the both of you, faces sweaty and chests heaving. Giyu’s grip loosened slowly, his other hand gently set your leg down. Much to your surprise, he still supported you by wrapping a hand around your waist. You really couldn’t feel your legs. “Let me help.” He muttered softly, guiding the both of you to the ground as he reached for your uniform top. You pushed your skirt back down, not bothering to look for your discarded panties. “We should do this again.” You reached up to shakily button your top, missing Giyu’s presence as he stood to pull his pants up. “I’d rather do it in a more conventional place. Perhaps my bed.” He tried to be nonchalant, but a blush was creeping up his face.

“Out of everything you just did and made me say, that got you to blush?” You 're still sitting on the ground, wondering how long it would take for feeling to return to your limbs. “Shut it, smart mouth.” He was putting his haori back on, the top buttons of his uniform still hung open. “I’ll think about it if you carry me to your bed.” You batted your eyes, a cheeky grin creeping up your cheeks. “That’s a far walk.” He was bending down to scoop you up anyways. “You’ll survive, big boy.” He sighed, shaking his head as he began to walk.

“I shouldn't have called you a good girl. You are nothing but a brat.”

[the-scandalorian]

Mutual

Pairing: Sex worker!Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: E, 18+ Word Count: 7.2k Warnings: smut, sex work, first time p-in-v for reader, first kiss for Mando, fingering, unprotected p-in-v Summary: You pay a visit to the Mandalorian for your first time. Notes: Written for an anon request. The perspective shifts back and forth between Din and the reader.

Thank you so much to @thefact0rygirl and @fisforfulcrum for reading this over for me! xx

perfect gif by@bestintheparsec

DIN

In the beginning, Din is conflicted.

It’s such an appealing idea, though, that he can’t shake it once it occurs to him. There’s no question that he’d make more money and make it faster. He’d even be able to stay in one place—fuck, the absurd luxury of that simple prospect—and that would mean fewer credits spent on overpriced fuel and less time wasted in hyperspace.

Still, he feels hesitant. There’s nothing wrong with it. He’s been to brothels before, with no shame whatsoever. But there is no denying the fact that sex work would be a nontraditional choice for a Mandalorian, and that’s putting it lightly.

I could stop at any time.

Then, he realizes how readily the clients line up—and how much they’re willing to pay—and Din finally appreciates the nuanced effect his armor and mystique have on people. He’d always thought it was pure intimidation. He thought of himself as scary—as too menacing—and he did what he could to mitigate that in friendly company. He kept his hands in everyone’s line of sight. He moved slowly and carefully. He announced his intentions. He unclipped his Amban rifle and propped it against the table. He spoke softly, politely.

But now? He knows that in some cases, there is a healthy dose of attraction mixed into that fear. The staring, the stuttering, the lingering glances that trail down his metal-clad body, the inability to meet the severe gaze of his visor?

It turns out, for many, fear and lust share a blurred edge, and Din can make thousands of credits playing in that murky in-between space.

So he settles into it.

His average client is wealthy and adventurous. They’re senators and merchants and sometimes even royalty. A thousand credits an hour mean nothing to them. They want novelty. They want danger—or, really, the illusion of danger. Some want hunter/bounty role-play, some want restraints, some want gun or knife play. He’s open to it all.

His Creed remains intact: the helmet always stays on. Most clients insist that all of his armor stay on, in fact. They want the full experience. So he pleasures them with his fingers and his cock, and no one ever complains. He knows the reason for that is twofold: how can they be upset when they’ve cum six times? And who’s going to complain to a fully armored Mandalorian?

So now, Din spends his days in high-end hotel rooms on plush feather beds. He’s well-rested and well-fed all the time. He sends an obscene amount of money back to the covert.

It’s ridiculous how much better this life is—there’s no contest between being run ragged from hunting and this. He doesn’t chase credits anymore; clients come to him. And for him because he is excellent at this job. His endurance and attention to detail easily transferred between occupations.

The one disappointing constant though, the one thing about hunting he hasn’t been able to shake, is the loneliness. There’s little companionship in being a companion, he’s found.

*** YOU

This is a great idea.

This is a terrible idea.

You pace back and forth in front of the hotel room door, eyes fixed on the sleek metal floor under your feet, trying to control your frantic breathing.

You can’t believe you’re actually here…about to blow half your savings on a night with a Mandalorian.

You heard about him through your wealthy clients at work. They rave about him—about his attention, his hands, his shoulders… his armor, his cuffs, his voice. His cock. They whisper—loudly, purposefully—about their multiple orgasms.

You’ve been hearing about him for months. Getting hornier by the fucking minute.

Just do it.

You’ve already paid, credits wired over this morning, so you might as well get your money’s worth. I’m ready. You’re completely sure of that.

You stop in front of the silver door and reach out to swipe the key card across the scanner when another wave of embarrassment hits you—not because you’re here but because you’re going to have little to no idea what you’re doing.

And he’ll know.

That’s too much to take. You turn on your heel and stride away, but you’ve only taken two steps when the door slides open behind you.

“Hi.”

Fuck.

You whip around, your face set in a guilty smile. “Hi.”

He’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his elbow propped over his head, the other leather-clad hand tucked into his belt…casually, as if he hasn’t just stepped directly out of your filthiest daydream. He’s tall, broad… the black t of his visor fixed on your face, head slightly cocked, his silver armor glinting in the dim light. You can’t decide if you’re more intimidated or more turned on. He trails his gaze down your body, and you decide it’s definitely the latter.

“Are you here to see me?”

Shit, they were right: his voice is fucking sexy.

You take a steadying breath and say, “Yes.”

He steps back, gesturing you inside with a gloved hand. And that’s enough to make up your mind for you.

There was no way you were leaving once you saw him anyways.

*** DIN

The first thing he notices is that you’re just his type. If he met you anywhere else, he’d pursue you. That’s irrelevant though.

The second thing Din realizes is that you’re not his average client.

You look... normal? You’re not some heiress or politician. And you seem nervous in a very different way than he’s used to. Usually, his clients are excited, often a little apprehensive and awkward at first. You, on the other hand, look legitimately worried.

You immediately make your way to the bed and sit on the edge, looking anywhere but at him, your hands fussing together in your lap. He stands, watching you for a moment, his thumbs tucked into his belt.

He hasn’t encountered a you yet, but he knows what to do.

He turns and takes a seat on the couch across from the bed, a low coffee table between you, pointedly giving you plenty of space. He studies you for a moment, and raptorial interest stirs in his chest as he moves his eyes over your body—your parted lips, your gorgeous tits. Din tamps that down and focuses on the job, on getting you comfortable.

“What’s your name?”

You look up quickly and tell him, then ask, “What’s yours? They just called you The Mandalorian—”

“Mando is fine.”

“Right.”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch and lets the silence simmer for a moment. Then he gets the most important thing out of the way: “My helmet always stays on. No exceptions, no touching it.” You nod solemnly, and he continues, his voice low and smooth: “Tell me about you, what you like.”

“What I like?”

“Mhmm.”

“I don’t—uh—I don’t have anything in particular in mind,” you say, still not looking at him. “Just…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely at yourself and then at him as if that will explain. “I’m just—I’m not sure—well, okay so...here’s the thing—”

He can’t help but smile behind his helmet. You’re cute when you’re flustered.

“I meant in general, not just sexually.”

“Oh…right.”

You seem surprised but relieved to start somewhere easy. To his immense satisfaction, Din watches the tension leave your shoulders as you walk him through your job and your hobbies. He asks follow up questions throughout, and soon enough, you’re actually looking at him, eyes trained directly on his visor.

“What about you?”

“Me?” He’s not expecting you to turn it around on him.

“Yeah,” you prod, “tell me about you.”

So he tells you some general things about how he used to be a bounty hunter, and you listen with warm attention, leaning back to brace yourself on your palms. Every time he thinks you’re going to be ready to move on, you prompt him with another question.

You like his voice. He can tell.

That’s not uncommon, but usually clients don’t want to spend their valuable time listening to him make small talk. He indulges you though, enjoying the way you seem to be defrosting, relaxing. Soon, you’ve slipped back to rest on your elbows, your shoes kicked off and feet hanging off the edge of the bed.

Finally, you let the conversation dwindle, and you seem comfortable enough that Din decides to move forward.

“Tell me about why you’re here.”

You sit up a bit, some of the discomfort returning to your posture. You consider his request for a moment then blurt: “I’ve never had sex.”

The words hit Din like cold water, and everything makes sense—everything except why you chose him for this. People come to him to add spice to their sex lives not to begin their sex lives. Who chooses a Mandalorian warrior for that?

“This is your first time,” he states bluntly, trying to process.

“Yeah...it is.” You shift around on the bed and meet his visor again. “I mean, I’m not inexperienced. I’ve been with men, just not…all the way. Is that okay?”

Din isn’t sure how to answer that. He’s never had to make this decision. He doesn’t know if it’s okay, doesn’t know if he wants this responsibility.

What he does know is that every time you look vulnerable, his hands itch to soothe you.

“Are you sure you want it to be with me?”

You look him dead in the eyes, even through the barrier of shadowed glass, and say, “Yes. I’m sure.”

For someone who came into the room so tentatively, with quiet steps and wringing hands, you look completely self-assured now. Your shoulders are squared and eyes clear. Din’s own uncertainty dissipates, and his gaze lingers on your slightly parted lips. Something primal nudges at his hindbrain, and a realization drips down his spine like warm honey: he decides he’s going to like the privilege of being your first time. He’s sure of that.

He nods.

That seems to embolden you because you stand then and cross the small space to sit next to him on the couch. Close. Almost touching.

You look up at him with bright eyes and ask, “Can I touch you?”

He chuckles quietly at the unexpected question. “Yes, you can touch me.”

You smile wryly at him, and he ignores the urge to brush his thumb over your bottom lip. Instead, he reaches for one of your hands and places it on his knee in an effort to break the ice, but you don’t leave it there. You bring it up and trace the severe curve at the side of his helmet with a feather-light touch, your eyes fixed on his visor.

It catches him off guard, and Din stops breathing. He feels unnerved by your direct gaze—pinned and laid bare—like you can somehow see his eyes even though he knows it’s impossible through the dark tint of the glass.

His thoughts slow, and he sees in you what he sees in himself: you’re looking for intimacy, for closeness. What surprises him is that the barrier of his beskar doesn’t seem to be preventing you from looking for that—for finding that—with him.

You run your finger back up the arched line of metal, and somewhere vague in the back of his mind, he knows he should reach up and catch your hand in his, like he always does when someone tries to touch his helmet. Instead, he abides. He couldn’t tell you why if you asked. Maybe it’s because he feels sure you’re not going to try to remove it. Your expression is open, curious—reverent, even.

“Oh, fuck,” you curse suddenly, pulling your hand back like you’ve been burned by the cold metal. “I’m not supposed to touch your helmet. That’s your main rule—I’m sorry, I just—I got caught up. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

Oh, right. That is a rule.

He nods, catching your hand and holding it between his. He wants to say it’s okay, to reassure you, but he knows he shouldn’t. It shouldn’t be okay.

He brushes one hand over your cheek, and your guilty expression gives way to a smile. You scoot closer, your knee nudging his thigh. You’re quiet, your face serious, as you run your hands over the lines of his armor. Din watches your face, his helmet cocked as he studies you.

“Can I take this off?” you ask, looking up at his visor as you trail your fingers idly down his chestplate.

“Yeah, I can—” he reaches up to start the long process of undressing himself.

“No,” you say, stopping him with a hand. “Can I do it?”

“Yeah,” he says, “sure,” and shows you the complicated releases for his armor.

In general, if a client wants him naked—and they usually don’t because the armor is a large part of his appeal—they wait expectantly and impatiently for him to undress, knowing their time is ticking away as he removes each piece of beskar. So, undressing is typically a harried process of Din stripping as fast as he can while a client waits, tapping their fingers restlessly.

With you, the process is slow and intimate. You take your time to remove each plate and set them neatly in a row on the coffee table before moving on to his bandolier, his belt, his cape, his cowl. The last things to come off are his gloves, and when you spend a long time admiring his rough hands, he doesn’t know what to do or say. He lets you continue.

When you’ve stripped him down to his duraweave, you surprise him again by climbing directly onto his lap—asking, “Is this okay?” as you go—and settling in with your back against the armrest of the couch, your legs laid over his thighs, when he nods. He reacts on instinct, slipping an arm around your waist to hold you close.

You’re soft, your weight reassuring, and for some weird reason, his throat feels a little tight when you slide your arm around his shoulders and rest your head in the crook of his neck. He sets one hand on your thigh, the other rubbing reassuring lines up and down your back.

You stay like that for a long time, maybe ten minutes, maybe half an hour. Din is not acutely aware of the passage of time like he usually is when he’s with his clients.

“Okay,” you proclaim unexpectedly, extracting yourself from his embrace and getting to your feet to stand in front of him. “I’m ready now.”

To your credit, you do look about a hundred times more relaxed.

But he likes this languid pace; he wants to maintain it. So he reaches out to catch your wrist and guide you back onto his lap, this time facing him on your knees, straddling his thighs.

“We have all night, sweetheart. There’s no rush.”

Din already knows you like his voice, but he watches the word sweetheart wash over you and realizes how much you like it. Your gaze softens, and your pupils dilate: some heady mixture of affection and lust shivers down your spine.

Din feels his own answering interest pulse through his veins. His vision narrows, and all he can focus on is your mouth, the way your tongue darts out to swipe across your lower lip. He’s grateful you’re perched over him, so you can’t see the very immediate effect you’re having on his lap.

It’s partially selfish—this desire he has to take his time with you. Some part of him feels a little guilty because he wants to take care of you because it feels good for him. It’s both, though. He wants it for you, and he wants it for himself too.

He cups your face, and you melt into his touch.

“Will you let me take care of you? Let me take my time with you?”

You close your eyes and nuzzle against his palm like a pleased cat, going supple and yielding in his hands. “Mmmm, yes.”

For the first time, Din thinks he might be in over his head.

*** YOU

The anxiety dissipates. You forget to be nervous. The acute feeling of cortisol singing through your veins is replaced by a pleasant haze, by a low thrum of pleasure, and you’re keyed into every place Mando is touching you. The sensations are overwhelming. They swallow you whole: his large, warm hand sliding up the back of your shirt, his cold helmet leaned against your temple, the pads of his fingers skating down your spine, the press of his muscular thighs against the insides of your legs.

You want more.

“Can you take your shirt off?”

Mando nods and reaches up to undo the short set of buttons at the top of his shirt, then pulls it up and over his helmet, tossing it somewhere on the floor.

Yes, this.

You splay your hands wide over his pecs and scooch backward on his lap to get a better view of the expanse of skin underneath you. He’s so warm and real, so human under all that metal, and all at once, you’re desperate to feel his skin against yours. You reach for the hem of your shirt, but before you can pull it off, his hand stops you. You look up at him, and he quirks his helmet.

“Can I?”

You nod.

You keep expecting to get acclimated to his voice—for it to stop thundering through your nervous system like a cloudburst of warm rain every time he says something in that low, rolling bass—but apparently that’s not going to happen.

He undresses you with careful hands, easing your shirt over your head. He urges you to stand, and he unbuttons your pants and shimmies them down your hips, your hands resting on his bare shoulders.

Something about his concentration and care makes you even more needy—even more ready. When he has you down to your underwear and bra, he pulls you back onto his lap, and you melt against his solid chest, your lips finding his neck. You place a tentative kiss there, and he wraps his long arms around you and holds you close. Emboldened by the quiet hitch in his breathing through the modulator, you work your mouth over his neck while your hands wander, trailing over the thick, corded muscles of his arms, down the dark hair dusting his sternum, across his soft stomach.

The anxiety returns, hitting you like the wide side of a bantha, when your hand pauses between his legs. Shit. You pray that he’s fully hard because if he’s not…there’s no way anything bigger than this is fitting inside you.

The want running through your veins, however, is much louder than the fear.

*** DIN

Din feels it the moment your uncertainty returns, and he covers your hand where it’s sitting in his lap with one of his.

“We’re only going to do what feels good for you,” he reminds you gently. “Whatever you want.”

You nod against his neck then pull away to look into his visor, your fingers tightening around his cock. “I want this.”

He hums deep in his chest, his eyelids drooping closed for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your hand on his aching cock. He can’t help it—he wants you to want his cock. He knows he can make it feel good for you. He gives your hand an encouraging squeeze where it’s wrapped around him.

“I can make it feel good for you. I promise.”

You press your face back into his neck and make a sound of enthusiastic agreement—something between a hum and a whine that makes his cock throb.

Din’s control is slipping, and he knows it: that carefully constructed wall he keeps between himself and his clients seems to be ineffective with you. Or maybe, he’s tearing it down himself.

“Have you cum before?”

You tense a little under his hands. “Yes.”

He hums again, his mind flashing to a vision of you with your hand between your legs, panting and arching. His mouth waters. “Good. Are you ready for me to make you cum now?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

He pats your thigh. “Let’s move to the bed.”

*** YOU

You lay out on the big bed, Mando kneeling beside you. He eases off your last layer, blindly tossing your bra and underwear over his shoulder, his helmet glued to your bare body. That black t rakes over you, raising goosebumps in its wake—down and back up—and stops on your face.

He watches your expression to gauge your comfort level as one large hand cups your breast, the other trailing down your body. You gasp—in relief and pleasure—when his palm rides the curve of your mound and he dips his fingers into you with a groan.

“Already wet?” he asks with a cocky little jaunt of his helmet.

You’re gearing up to reply with something sassy when he puts a sudden pressure on your clit—not moving his finger, just keeping it still and steady—to silence you.

The words die on your tongue. You drop your head back on the pillow and close your eyes. He waits a moment then circles his finger firmly, and your eyes snap back open, your mouth falling open in a soundless exhale.

He continues like that until you’re writhing and whining—pleading with gasped words and wide eyes—and he slips one… and then two thick fingers inside your slick cunt.

He takes you apart—once, twice—with expert precision, with care.

You watch his hands as he does. You can’t help but fixate on them when they’re wringing so much pleasure from your body. One works relentlessly between your legs, the other providing a grounding weight over your sprinting heart.

The hand splayed on your sternum rises and falls in tandem with your rapid breaths, the obscene spread displaying the range, the reach of him. His hands are big, wide—you study the meandering blue veins that fork like rivers between the mountains of his knuckles. His fingers are long and thick, his nails blunt and well kept. Utilitarian.

He presses up against something inside you that radiates pure bliss. You arch for him; you keen.

And you’re so caught up in the intimacy that your imagination runs wild: you can envision his hands doing other things—his palm smoothing over your fevered temple, brushing away a bead of sweat with aching care, just as much as you can see his knuckles split and bloody from the pure lust of possession. You want that. You want him to possess you, to leave someone else black and blue for coveting what is undeniably his.

The weight of his warm palm leaves your chest, and he glosses his knuckles over your bottom lip, dragging it slightly, opening your panting mouth a little more so your humid breath fans over his skin. The black void of his visor is fixed there, and you can feel the want in that gesture—the need. And for a moment, you can see past the helmet with perfect clarity.

He wishes he could be touching your lips with more than his hand.

You feel completely sure of that.

He shifts and leans into you, collapsing onto his side to spread out along your body, pressing his cold helmet into the space between your ear and your shoulder. You gasp and flinch back at the initial shock of contact but bring a hand up to keep him in place when he tries to move away.

You want him close—like having him here in your space as you cum around his thick fingers for the second time—but you can’t help but wish—

“Fuck, I want to kiss you,” you breathe against the curve of beskar.

As soon as the words are floating out there, though, you realize that’s a shitty thing to say to him when there’s nothing he can do about it.

He goes completely still and grunts through the modulator, and for the first time, you have no idea where you stand. You realize he’s been keeping you tethered this whole time—with his calm demeanor, his directness—because suddenly you’re adrift.

“Shit—sorry, I didn’t mean that. I know it’s—”

Before the words of your apology are out of your mouth, though, he’s pulling away from you, sliding off the bed and striding to the other side of the room. Panic surges through you. He’s been so good to you, given you everything you need, and still you asked for more.

You scramble to the end of the bed, perched on your knees. “I’m sorry, I won’t say it again, I promise—”

You hesitate when he stops in front of the small, square control panel on the wall by the door, punching several buttons. Before you can wonder what he’s doing, every light is extinguished, and the blackout curtains on the other side of the room close with a swish. You whip your head around at the sound, watching as the last sliver of the blinking city lights is doused.

You look back to where he’s still standing. “What are you—?”

His silhouette is imposing in the dark. The mattress dips when he sits beside you, and he reaches up, slipping his thumb under the lip of his helmet. There’s an unfamiliar hiss, and you watch in astonishment as he eases the black shadow off his head and tosses it carelessly on the bed.

Your heart stops.

You’re shocked into silence, staring at Mando’s dark outline.

You’re not sure who’s more surprised by this turn of events—you or him. You can tell he has stunned himself by the stiff way he’s sitting, completely frozen, all his ease and confidence gone. You feel a surge of affection at how human and vulnerable he suddenly seems. You can see the outline of his tousled helmet-hair, and you’re desperate to soothe him, to hold his hand and guide him through this softly.

Just as he was doing for you.

*** DIN

Suddenly, the roles are reversed. Din’s breath is shallow and shaky, and it feels like the basic control of his body has shifted from autopilot to manual without his permission. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands anymore. They’re sitting uselessly in his lap, and his arms feel unwieldy and long.

He’s lost.

And what’s even worse? He knows that you can tell he’s lost, even in the complete darkness.

Is this how you’ve been feeling all night? He’s struck in that moment by how brave you are for staying because after feeling this way—this untethered and unarmored—for about thirty seconds, he is on the verge of vaporizing.

He’d ripped off his helmet in a fog of overwhelming desire—of reckless, desperate passion. You’d whispered that you wanted to kiss him, and it felt like a sign. He had been fixated—possessed by—the same thing, and the tight space inside his helmet became unbearably thick and suffocating. Years of denying himself suddenly weighed too heavy on his shoulders, so heavy that his resolve splintered…but now reality is crashing down on him.

He’s supposed to be the professional here. You paid him for this, and his job is to know what the fuck he’s doing. He’s supposed to be making sure your first time is good for you, and he just let his own needs—his own wants—take the driver’s seat.

You slide closer to him on the bed, one of your palms settling reassuringly on his chest, and Din is acutely aware of how obviously his heart is pounding.

“It’s okay,” you say, your hand sliding upwards over his pec. “Can I—can I touch your face?”

He should say no. That’s too dangerous, too familiar. It’s not worth the risk. His heart hammers irregularly under your fingertips.

“Yes,” he says, and your soft hand cups his cheek. He shudders, leaning into your touch. It’s overwhelming. It’s electric—the sensation is so good and acute that it burns. He wants you to touch all of him, to kiss every plane of his face, to sear away the pain until all that’s left is pleasure.

Right on cue, you lean forward, and Din remains completely still, paralyzed by this unfamiliar feeling of being totally out of his depth. Some panicked part of him is convinced that if he doesn’t move at all, at least he won’t have done anything wrong.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable,” you whisper against his stubbly cheek. “I’m totally fine with just—”

The only thing he’s sure about is that he wants this.

He covers the hand on his chest with his own, his other large palm cradling the back of your neck, keeping you in place, and he can feel you smile against his cheek. He wants to tell you I want this—please kiss me, but he knows if he opens his mouth to speak, he’ll hate the waver in his voice.

“Let me take care of you,” you say, reflecting his words back to him, and the ice in Din’s chest thaws. You’re sweet and soft, and he knows that even if he fucks this up, you’ll still be kind to him. In a way, he thinks he might be giving you exactly what you want. What’s more intimate than vulnerability?

It feels safe to move again. He pulls back a fraction of an inch, and holding you gently in place, he tilts his head and fits his lips against yours.

He starts slow—gentle and tentative. You’re patient with him: you let him acclimate to the sensation, grounding him with the steady presence of your hand over his stuttering heart, the other framing his jaw. You press a few light kisses to his lips and start to lean away, to give him some air, but he doesn’t want air—he wants this. He wants the vacuum of space, asphyxia.

Din curls his fingers firmly around the nape of your neck to lock you in place. He leans in and kisses you harder, pressing his mouth to yours until your front teeth click together. He huffs out his embarrassment and adjusts, but you’re unfazed. You venture further, parting your lips to deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue against his when he does the same, and Din is immediately addicted to your mouth.

He wants it everywhere.

He wants your tongue teasing his nipples, your spit dripping down the length of his cock, your teeth set against his neck, your lips mouthing over his balls.

He wants.

*** YOU

Mando moans against your lips, and you feel like you’re being given a gift with the raw sound of his unmodulated voice.

The kiss goes from sweet to needy, and you both feel it. All at once, you’re pulling him on top of you while he’s pushing you back on the bed. Awkwardly, without interrupting the kiss, you scramble backward together, feeling your way through the darkness until your head hits the pillow. He’s braced over you, a muscled thigh situated between your legs, his newly bold tongue in your mouth.

He pants against your lips, forcing the words out between kisses and labored breaths: “Are you ready for me, baby?”

Something inside you turns to liquid when he calls you baby.

“Fuck—yes, please—”

You can hear him working at the fastenings on his pants, freeing himself. Despite how wet you are and the fact that you’ve already cum on his fingers twice, you're braced for some amount of pain. You’ve heard it hurts. And his cock is massive—he shucks off his pants, and it’s resting heavy and thick and long against your inner thigh—so you’re convinced it’s going to hurt even more than you anticipated. You’re trying to stay calm, trying to focus on how good it feels when he kisses you, but you’re sure he can feel you tensing beneath him.

You’re desperate for him to fill the empty ache inside you, and you’re also scared.

The pad of his thumb smooths over your furrowed brow, and he pulls away: “Relax,” he purrs. “I promised to take care of you, remember? I’ll make this good for you.”

You nod in the darkness.

He presses his lips to yours again, and your entire body unclenches. Approval rumbles through his chest, and he kisses you deeply as two of his thick fingers sink easily inside you again. He pumps them languidly before easing a third in alongside them.

It’s so good and not enough.

“I think you’re ready for me.”

“Yes,” you breathe against his lips, “I’m ready.”

“I’ll go slow. Tell me if you want me to stop, if it hurts.”

You nod again, and he swipes his cock through your folds before he fits the blunt head against you. You cling to him, one hand around his neck, fingers tangled in his messy hair, the other flat on his back. He eases his hips forward, pushing just the tip inside, and you know he’s going agonizingly slow for your benefit.

Oh yeah, it’s fucking tight.

He murmurs brokenly against your parted lips as he slips inside: “That’s it. Tell me if it’s too much. Ngghh—you’re doing so good for me.”

It doesn’t hurt though. There is no pain. It’s uncomfortable for a minute. The stretch is new, and the pressure feels foreign, and then he’s all the way inside you, his hips flush against yours, and oh fuck—

He lets out a deep, desperate groan, and you whine loudly against his ear, but you’re so overcome with the feeling, with the sheer fullness that you aren’t even embarrassed by how needy you sound, rendered wordless by pleasure.

His voice is strained when he asks, “How does it feel? Are you okay?”

“Yes—you feel so good—so big—please fuck me,” you slur, and you can feel him smile as he huffs against your cheek.

He holds you close to his chest—to his beating heart—while he fucks you slowly, deeply, and the end of each one of his strokes touches something inside you that aches in the best way. He takes his time with you, just like he promised. You pant in the dark together—for minutes? Hours? Days?

“Tell me,” he prompts again, his voice a hoarse whisper, “tell me how it feels.”

You wish you had the right words for him, wish you could string together the requisite poetry. Instead, he gets a mumbled, “Fuck—mmm—Mando it’s so good—yes, like that—”

The way he sets his teeth at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and moans makes you think he gets it anyway.

When the pleasure gets so acute that it requires remedy—when it’s so good it’s almost unbearable—you start to meet each of his thrusts, canting your hips up to chase the sensation, the fullness. He grunts lowly and responds to you: he pulls back to reach between your bodies, trailing a hand down your stomach, to start rubbing attentive circles over your clit.

“Knew you could take me—now you’re gonna cum on my cock.”

He starts to fuck you faster, and you do; he coaxes it out of you.

You pulse and tighten around him, and it’s different than what you know— a widespread pleasure, bone-deep and all-encompassing. You arch your back, nails digging into the skin of his neck, and let the heat roll through your body while he gives you his cock, again and again.

When it starts to fade, you melt into the blissful haze, muscles going warm and slack. You drop your hands over your head, and Mando reaches up to pin your crossed wrists with one huge hand, his elbow braced on the pillow beside your ear, as he follows close behind you.

After a few more punches of his hips, he rips himself away and cums across your stomach—warmth spattering across your skin—pumping himself with a broken groan.

You’re flattened, sweaty and panting, lost in the afterglow of the best orgasm of your life. He disappears into the ensuite refresher and returns with a warm washcloth, carefully cleaning you off as you catch your breath. When he returns again, he braces himself over you to kiss you deeply—and the press of your bodies, of your lips doesn’t feel new anymore. It feels familiar, comforting: like warmth and intimacy cultivated over time.

He rolls onto his back, slumping beside you on the pillow, your breathing a quiet chorus in the darkness.

You hear the muted rustle when he turns his head to look at you, so you do the same, admiring his dark silhouette.

“...are you hungry?”

“Starving,” you breathe.

And you both laugh, a long breathless laugh that has very little to do with the fact that you’re both hungry and everything to do with how easily your hands find each other in the dark.

Before you can ask what you should do about this conundrum, he’s rolling out of bed and sliding his helmet back on. You try to ignore your answering surge of disappointment. Of course it makes sense that he’d put his helmet back on.

He clicks one of the dim lamps on, and for the first time, you’re treated to the full view of him.

Your jaw drops shamelessly.

“What?” he asks, frozen.

The words are out before you can really consider them: “Stars, you’re pretty.”

He scoffs, shaking his head—the warm, golden lamplight skating over the mirrored surface of his helmet—as if you’re kidding. You’re not.

He extracts a datapad from the drawer of the bedside table, and the bed dips when he lays out beside you. He clicks it on and navigates around the interface, asking you what you want. While you decide what to order together—selecting enough food to easily feed four people—you admire the long spread of him, his wide shoulders, the hard lines of his hip bones, and the soft curve of his belly in this slightly hunched position. And all you can think about is how much you want to taste all of him.

When the food is ordered, he clicks the datapad off.

“How long will the food take?” you ask.

“Not long, probably half an hour—”

“Perfect,” you reply, a wicked smile on your lips, as you sit up and throw a leg over him to straddle his thighs. “Plenty of time.”

He tosses the datapad somewhere on the bed and pulls you down on his lap. “Oh yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice. “For what exactly?”

“I’ll show you,” you purr. You lean forward and suck a hard kiss under his jaw, and he runs his hands up your back.

The long, low sound that emanates from his chest makes you think he likes this just as much as you do.

“Oh, I probably shouldn’t give you a hickey,” you laugh, sitting back on your heels to look into his visor.

“Mmm, I don’t mind,” he says, lazily tipping his helmet to the side and guiding you back in with a hand on the nape of your neck.

“Oh well, in that case…”

*** DIN

He shouldn’t let things go any further, shouldn’t let them spiral. It’s already gotten out of hand. Din knows he should leave his helmet on for the rest of the night and focus on the fact that this is a job.

…but he’s hungry. And he’s already taken it off once in your presence. Would a second time make it worse?

No, he decides, not worse.

And so he lets things bleed a little further into a muddy, unprofessional territory. Control slips a little further out of his hands, unspools.

Even though he should, he doesn’t really mind that feeling anymore. What felt like a loss of control is starting to taste like…joy?

You sit back-to-back on the bed, lights low and his helmet staring blindly next to his thigh, and chat while you eat. An hour passes easily like that, maybe two. He finds himself telling you about his life—his real life—when you ask. And you tell him about yours—about your past relationships, how you’d found companions and potential lovers but no intimacy, so you’d left each one and searched on.

That hits him somewhere deep in his chest.

When you’re done eating, you offer to close your eyes so he can turn the lights off again, to keep his helmet off. He should say no, thank you and put his helmet back on. He should leave it there—in its rightful place—for the rest of the night.

But he can’t take back what’s already happened—he doesn’t want to.

So he lets the line go a little more slack. And it feels good.

He agrees and shuts all the lights off, climbing back into bed with you and pulling you to his side. You don’t even have sex again. It doesn’t come up. You just lie together, close, always touching, and talk. You kiss, taking turns initiating long stints of making out, of mapping each other with your lips, but the rest of the night is largely not even sexual. Just… intimate.

His arm slung around your shoulders, your face settled in the crook of his neck. His head resting in your lap, your fingers carding through his hair.

For the first time in a long time, Din doesn’t feel alone.

It’s a night of firsts, apparently, for both of you. In addition to his first kiss, it’s the first time he falls asleep in the presence of a client. It feels natural though: his eyes drift closed late into the night, your head on his chest, your fingers laced through his.

*** YOU

When you wake in the morning, Mando is gone, the bed cold. You knew he would leave when the time you paid for was up, but the hopeful, sensitive part of you—the part that thought maybe, just maybe, he’d also felt something for you—still feels stung.

You stretch, and your body is the tiniest bit sore, but mostly you just feel just fucked-out and relaxed, warm and lazy. Some part of you wonders if it was a bad idea to have him be your first. You’re pretty certain it’s not ever going to be better than that.

Too late now.

You sigh and sit up, looking around for your clothes. You know you left them strewn all over the room, but now, you find that everything is folded in a stack on the dresser.

You slide to the edge of the bed, and that’s when you notice a note written in neat, squared-off letters on the bedside table.

It says what must be his real name, Din, and underneath, the digits of his personal com.

[writersblockedx]

The Problem with Duality

Pairing - Pattinson!Bruce Wayne x Reader Summary - Bruce has always attempted to keep his vigilante persona hidden from Y/n. That all becomes trickier when a new killer, of which she's helping to hunt, is found going after the riches of Gotham. Warnings - Violence, death, blood, angst. Words - 3.2K

A/n - May write a possible part two to this :)

MASTERLIST

Bruce knew how dangerous it could be living two lives simultaneously. Even more dangerous when one of those lives consisted of a masked vigilante and the other a business man living under the public eye. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the balance between his two identities titled. Maybe they already had done.

While he found a certain comfort hidden behind the Batman mask, Bruce knew that Y/n wouldn't look at him the same way if she knew. In his brain, he had always separated himself, a Wayne, from this vigilante façade. Though, he could never be sure she would be able to do the same. And the thought of having her loved ripped from him, well, it worried him enough to keep one of the biggest parts of his life from her.

By now, however, he seemed to have settled into it. And by 'it', he had gotten used to the lying, to the pretending as if he hadn't been there at every killing, every murder, every attack that happened in Gotham. So when Y/n's phone had started ringing in the very early hours in the morning, he too found himself on alert. In fact, that night in particular, he found himself the one to wake her up, knowing it could only be work calling at this hour.

"Y/n," Bruce had whispered as he leaned over her, brushing her hair from her face in hopes to ease her from her sleep. Y/n had only hummed in response, eyes still tightly shut. "Y/n," He spoke again. The girl lulled at the disruption. "Y/n, you're phones ringing."

At last, her eyelids fluttered open, the first thing she was met with being Bruce's own pupils. She didn't say anything at first. She found herself taking a moment to gather her surroundings. "Dare I even ask what time it is?" She complained, the idea of dragging herself out of bed already was not something she was looking forward to.

Though, her resistance to getting up had been quick to prompt a gentle smile at Bruce's lips before he glanced to the curtains which covered the floor-to-ceiling windows. No sunlight yet having seeped through the lines in the curtains which could only suggest it was early, very early. "I wouldn't ask." He told her. "You should probably answer your phone though; they wouldn't call if it weren't urgent." That was code for the fact Bruce wanted her to go in so, thus, he could follow her and see what was so important for calling colleagues in at this time.

The man was well aware of the morals lacking in such. But he knew that, in the long term, it was for the better. Bruce got to the perpetrator before the police did and had a much better reputation when it came to stopping and arresting them than they did. Had it not been his girlfriend he sought out for information, then it would have been someone else. After many sleepless nights in his early days as Batman, he came to the same conclusion that it was for the better and that, as long as everything went to plan, it would never hurt Y/n.

So, with a huff of objection, Y/n reached for her phone. Bruce couldn't hear what was spoken on the other end of the line, only mutters of their voice. "And you're certain it's homicide?" Bruce listened intently, still lingering over the girl, watching as her expression moulded to the words which were getting fed to her. "Is there no other forensic on site...that bad huh?" At first Bruce watched as a smile graced her lips, quickly fading when a reply was given. "Shit..yeah, okay...I'll be there in 10 minutes." The phone call ended.

Bruce analysed how bad crime scenes were based on the estimated time Y/n would give to her boss.

An hour meant she could ease herself into work. Also meaning that she had probably only been called in because everyone else had declined, or were busy, ill, or on leave.

Forty minutes gave the girl time for a shower and to actually look like the professional she tried to make herself out to be. Probably meaning the scene was bad, bad enough to be under the presses eyes at least.

Half-an-hour meant she had no rush to get there but she was certainly needed. Thus suggesting not only a terrible scene, but one of which wasn't obvious.

And ten minutes. Well, they were a rarity. Ten minutes meant she got out of bed and was straight to her car. The scene had to be so horrific that how she presented herself to press and media was less secondary. And, usually, from what Bruce had gathered, the ten minutes scenes were related to active serial killers.

Still, with the clock that was now now ticking, Y/n took the time to look back at Bruce. Her hand brushing against his cheek gently. "Sounded intense." Bruce observed.

That was an understatement, the girl thought. "Yeah, every forensic that can, is going in. Me now included." She explained. "I'll let you know when I'm on my way home." Though, she doubted this job was just going to be a visit. Already she was predicating the complications, the press and their eager cameras. This certainly wasn't something she expected to be over soon.

And so she dragged herself out of bed, slipped into some more acceptable clothing that wasn't her pyjamas and made way for her car. Bruce had been lingering by their window, watching for the girl as she slipped into her car and the engine started. The moment the car left it's parking slot, Bruce was gathering his suit along with his  weapons and, of course, his mask.

As he always did, he scribbled out a note. A note of which, if he wasn't certain to get home before Y/n did, the girl would come home to. Usually it just consisted of whichever excuse came to mind first. And once that was done, he whisked himself out of the house and began trailing behind the girl's car as discreetly as he was able to.

Y/n soon entered a rather expensive estate. All seeming normal and quiet. Most houses were still sleeping through the night. Had she not been aware she was driving towards a crime scene, she would have believed that all was well. However, right at the end of this estate, in what should have been the most silent of all the houses, sat a home which was swarmed in red and blue light and flashes of camera lights.

When Y/n pulled up to that, Bruce knew he no longer needed to trail behind. Instead, he found himself hidden in the dark, watching from afar. He thought it smart to give time between when Y/n arrived and when he did. The last thing he wanted was suspicion arising.  So he lingered, watching as the girl weaved around the cop cars and the press which were all bundled together, trying to get snapshots which suggested anything of what horrors laid inside the home.

Bruce waited between five to ten minutes before he made his entrance. And suddenly, the press now had intentions of getting snapshots of the Batman rather than a house occupied by police. Many yelled for his name, instructed him to pose for this photo and that one. But Bruce never even glanced at them. He shoved his way through the crowd and made his way inside the home. And now everyone inside was well aware of the vigilante which had entered the crime scene.

He didn't need to say much. He scanned the entrance to the home and when nothing suggested to him where the real crime scene was, he looked to one of medical examiners. Her eyes had already been on Bruce. Everyone was glancing back at him. With the suit and all, he always made a dramatic entrance, even when he wished not to. The medical examiner only needed to point up the stairs before Bruce was following her indication.

The master bedroom was littered in blood. And by that, I mean as if it was all red. At least, that was all Bruce saw when he wondered in; the red which covered the walls. It covered the floor, the furniture, anything it could touch. But a few further steps into the bed room and he noted what was situated on the attached balcony. A thing of which he was sure had already sacred most of the people in this room. Even when they were all used to violence and blood.

An older man, one of which Bruce assumed had been the one asleep in the bed, had a large wooden spike shoved through his chest, pointed at the stars and balancing against the balcony fence. The man's body was limp and lifeless, yet the spike made him look as he was still alive in some way that Bruce didn't want to question. He couldn't lie, out of the many scenes of violence he had caught, this was one of the most gruesome he had come across.

"Looks like the Batman's come to save us all again." A voice came. A voice of which he recognised.

Y/n had been standing by the dresser, collecting evidence. It just so happened she couldn't help but make comment to Gordan about the masked hero which wondered the scene. "He's done some good work for us, you know that." And so the girl settled on a huff before watching Gordan wonder back off.

It was then that Bruce met the girl's eyes once again. And rather than starring back in admiration and comfort, her pupils seemed burdened in irritation. The way she looked at him was always a strong reminder as to why he had to keep his identity a secret. So rather than going to her for a briefing, Bruce sought out Gordon.

He went on with some background information about the victim. A businessman lacking a family who died alone. Then Gordon connected it to another homicide they investigated a week ago. One of the major owners of energy sources. Her and her family all murdered in the early hours of the night. They were aggressive and harsh. While they were strategic, it was obvious both murders were fuelled by emotion. "Looks to me like it's a class issue." He assumed. "I've already started considering taking Y/l/n off the case."

That was quick to peak at Bruce's interest as he tried his very best to not glance back at the girl who was currently weighing up her theories in a near by corner. "How come?" He questioned.

"She's had this thing going with the Wayne son. I don't know, she's only mentioned it a couple of times, I tend not to take interest in that sort of thing." Gordon brushed it off as if it was just mindless gossip.

Bruce hummed, giving in to his urge to glance at the girl that he longed to keep safe in this gritty world of Gotham. "You think Wayne's next?"

Gordon shrugged, "I mean, if this is about going after the riches of Gotham, I'm sure he's on the list." And with that, the man wondered off once more. Bruce didn't even try to stop himself then as he looked to Y/n. This time, she starred back. If Bruce was a target, he certainly was more worried over her safety than he ever could be his own.

Bruce made his way home after visiting the crime scene. There were no traces of the perpetrator. There was nothing he had to go after. So he took his leave while Y/n continued with her work which was needed to be carried out. After all, it was her job.

Once Bruce returned home, he threw his note of excuse back in the bin and headed to the basement. With the scene fresh in his mind, he wanted to go over it. Spot anything he hadn't spotted while he was there. The boy placed the contact which had sat in his eyes and injected them into the computer. From there, he analysed the images. Every frame. Every moment. Even when the screen that starred back at him switched to Y/n. A wave of guilt seeming to wash back over him as he looked back at the girl, now as Bruce rather than the Batman.

He didn't move from the basement until his phone pinged.

Y/n On my way back x

The boy had starred at the message a moment longer than he normally would do. Another wave of guilt. No matter how many times he had used Y/n to weave his way into crime scenes, it never got easier. But knowing that this killer could be targeting Bruce, and in term Y/n as well, the guilt felt heavier than ever.

Bruce See you soon

And so he exited and locked the basement before returning to the upper floors. The boy showered, letting the black around his eyes fade and slipped into different clothing before Y/n finally came back. Her tired eyes struck out to Bruce the moment she stepped into their living room. He hated seeing her after night shifts. He didn't need ask to know how her bones ached or how her head was pounding. All he ever needed was a glance.

"Bad case?" Bruce asked as the girl slipped out from her coat and chucked her shoes to one side.

She hummed in response, wondering over to the sofa where Bruce was laid lazily. "Something like that yeah." She muttered before joining his side, shuffling into the crook of his neck while he held her close.

While Bruce was used to the comfort he was meant to have from touch like this, all he felt was guilt, again. Even while the girl slept in his hold, all he felt was this lingering guilt, like it was taunting him. When emotions got the better of him, he turned to Y/n. But this was something he couldn't get into. He couldn't explain to her the reason for this guilt, so the boy turned to other resources to play out this guilt.

He carefully slipped out from Y/n, wrapping her sleeping body in a blanket. From there, it wasn't long until he found himself in the suit again and he was storming up to the police station, demanding to be seen by Gordon.

"What can I help you with? You know I'm busy." Gordon had started as he strolled into his office where the Batman was lurking, scanning the framed photos that sat his desk as he waited.

"I want access to the evidence from these last two cases."

Gordon scoffed. "Look I'm thankful for the help, but-"

"I can't help unless I have all the variables." Bruce argued as Gordon sighed; he already knew where this ended. "So do you want my help or not?"

The man wasn't really left with another choice. "Wait here," He said in a huff before wondering out from his office. A few moments later walking back in, box in hand.

Gordon came to the back of his desk which Batman faced opposite. There he set down the box in front of him. "All yours." He offered.

It wasn't long before the lid was pulled and Bruce was inspected everything. Every little speck that the murderer had left behind. He analysed it, ran it through his head. Any possible connection running through his thoughts. And all them thoughts focused on this evidence, were thoughts that were no longer centred around the guilt which settled in his gut. He could forget about Y/n and how terrible he felt in using her. Maybe it wouldn't last long, but it was something he supposed.

Well, it was something that ended quicker than he had imagined. Bruce was half way through inspecting the evidence when the door to Gordon's office slammed open. And there, stood shaking and drenched from the rain, was Y/n. "Y/n," Gordon spoke, standing from his desk while Bruce stood completely still. Last time he saw her, she was comforted by her dreams, snuggled tightly in a blanket. "What's going on?" The man urged.

For what seemed like the first time, the girl took no notice of the vigilante that was standing only meters from her. "I fell asleep with Bruce the moment I got in. And I just-" She fumbled over her words as both Gordon and a masked Bruce hung onto her every breath. "I just, I woke up and he was gone. He's not answering his phone, he's not left a note, he always leaves a note. I started thinking about what you said, how this killer could be after him as well and- and I panicked." She ranted, all of it rushed out from her lips.

"Okay, just erm, just calm down." Gordon told her as if she would actually be able to do so. "We can't do anything until after the first 24 hours-"

"Please." She had cut in the moment she heard that hour, that rule she knew as law enforcement she was meant to abide by. "You know Bruce has been practically hiding from the public eye for years now. There's no way he'd leave without telling me before hand."

Bruce was watching from afar. He couldn't intrude, he couldn't give any assurance while he stood dressed in this mask and suit. Yet still, he only longed to hold her as he always did, to tell her that he was literally right in front of her. "Gordon if you don't tell me that you're going to do something, I'm walking out and I'll go look for him myself." She then made as her final statement.

The man debated in his head, one side protecting the laws he too had to live by and his younger co-worker he cared for. "If you go out there, you are putting yourself at a great risk." He pointed out.

"You didn't answer me." Y/n pressed. "Will you do anything?"

The girl was met with a blank stare in return; he wasn't doing anything. With that concluded, she took off, slamming the door back shut as she had opened it. "Y/n!" Gordon yelled as he picked up his coat to follow her.

Not that he had gotten far. The moment the man glanced back, Batman was rushing after her.

Y/n was making a b-line for her exit. She wasn't thinking straight. She couldn't. The lurking idea of what Bruce could be going through right now was taunting her. "He didn't mean that," Batman called out to her. She kept walking. So he kept walking. "Come on, don't. Y/n," Nothing

Bruce huffed as he pulled his steps to a stop. It was as if, in that moment, the guilt made his decision for him. "Y/n." It wasn't his low, mumbling Batman voice he had adapted. No he was calling out to Y/n as he always did without the mask or the suit. And she did, finally, stop.

The girl turned, brows knotted as she stared at the vigilante. The same vigilante she believed she had figured out. Then the mask was pulled off and the boy she adored started back at her. But all she felt now was betrayal

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Hold My Hand

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader

Word Count: 1729

TW: Fluff, Kissing, Spying, Some Slight Descriptions of Reader's Hair

Note: This is a song fic (sort of) for Lady Gaga's "Hold My Hand"

Top Gun Masterlist

Damn it! Rooster had made it all the way back to base before he realized he had forgotten his favorite pair of aviators back in the bar. Normally, he would have waited until the next day to try going back, but there was an early morning training session and he really wanted to use them. The sun cresting over the desert could be killer on his eyes otherwise.

As he approached The Hard Deck, he breathed a small sigh of relief to see a few lights were still on inside. He had half expected the bar to be completely empty for the night considering he had been ushered out along with the rest of his squadron after last call. But as he tried the front door, he was pleasantly surprised to find it still unlocked. Though it was darker than usual, and all the chairs were currently stacked on top of the tables. Music still softly filtered through the room and as Rooster looked around, he noticed you standing with your back to him by the jukebox with a rag in one hand and a broom leaning on the tables nearby.

You had taken your hair down from the tight ponytail you always wore it in, and you had removed your shoes and apron. For some reason, it felt so intimate seeing you this way. While working, you were always so professional and poised but now, he was literally seeing you let your hair down. And he liked it.

From the first day he had walked into The Hard Deck, you had caught his eye. Aloof and a bit reserved, you did not seem like a typical bartender. Yet, as he slowly got to know you and you opened up a little, he found out you also had a sarcastically witty side as well as a remarkably kind side. Both of which you demonstrated when you put Hangman in his place after he was picking on Bob. And Rooster had a feeling there was even more to you that you kept hidden away. More that he had longed to discover.

The music faded as the song ended and just as he was about to clear his throat and say something, the next song started. He instantly recognized it as one of the newer songs that had been all over the radio the last month or so, one of the ones that would play so constantly it was almost impossible not to learn the words just by osmosis. He was completely fed up with hearing it. However, he remembered you mentioning that you loved it.

So, it wasn’t a surprise when he saw you turn up the volume on the machine, the song quickly filling the silent space. But what was a surprise was what you did as the lyrics started playing.

Hold my hand, everything will be okay I heard from the heavens that clouds have been grey Pull me close, wrap me in your aching arms I see that you're hurtin', why'd you take so long

You reached out and took the broom. But instead of sweeping up, you held the end of the handle near your face like a microphone and you began to sing as you swayed slightly to the music. Rooster froze, unsure what to do. He didn’t want to announce his presence now and embarrass you, but he didn’t want you to catch sight of him either. So, slowly, he backed farther into the darkened edge of the room and continued to watch you.

To tell me you need me? I see that you're bleeding You don't need to show me again But if you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you I won't let go 'til the end

As the song began to build in intensity, so did your movements and enthusiasm. You began to drift around the room, dragging the broom with you. Your voice wasn’t perfect by any means, but you sang with such excitement and heart that it was utterly beautiful to listen to. And the way you moved around the space, so carefree and alive…. It was thrilling to watch. Rooster was unable to take his eyes off of you.  

So cry tonight But don't you let go of my hand You can cry every last tear I won't leave 'til I understand Promise me, just hold my hand

As the song reached the chorus, you threw your head back, your hair billowing behind you free of its normal confines. For the first time, Rooster was able to catch a glimpse of your face. A brilliant smile was spread across your lips, lighting up your entire face. He just wished you had your eyes open because he longed to see the joyful sparkle he knew he would see there. As you got to the last line of the verse, you threw out your hand as if waiting for someone to take it and Rooster had to stop himself from reaching out for you.

Raise your head, look into my wishful eyes That fear that's inside you will lift, give it time I can see everything you're blind to now Your prayers will be answered, let God whisper how

The music slowed down slightly, and you returned to gently swaying to the music as you swung the broom around. Your bare feet drug across the floor in time with the beat as your voice softened slightly. Rooster watched as you paused to pick up a balled-up napkin from under one of the tables and throw it away before resuming your dancing. He chuckled softly to himself, amused at how quickly you shifted from this carefree side back to your work mode then back again. It reminded him that behind this new persona he was seeing, the you he had come to know was still there too.

To tell me you need me, I see that you're bleeding You don't need to show me again But if you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you I won't let go 'til the end

As you neared the bar, you put down the broom. And as the music began to grow in intensity once more, you leaned backward across the bartop, your head and shoulders laid out on top of it. Rooster gazed at the perfect curve of your neck, long and smooth in the dim lighting, and he wondered what it would be like to kiss you there. His lips brushing against your throat as his mustache tickled your skin. And once again he had to fight the urge to reveal his presence to you.

Straightening up suddenly, you spun to face the bar and quickly pulled yourself up, so you were standing on it.

So cry tonight But don't you let go of my hand You can cry every last tearI won't leave 'til I understand Promise you'll just hold my hand

From on top of the bar, you belted out the lyrics like the words were coming from your very soul. The way you moved, the way you sang, it all reminded him of how he felt when he was in his plane. Rooster could feel all the emotions, the passion, the uninhibited side you always kept tucked away finally breaking free. This was a part of you he doubted many other people had ever gotten the pleasure of seeing and it was breathtaking.

Hold my hand, hold my Hold my hand, my hand I'll be right here, hold my hand Hold my hand, hold my Hold my hand, my hand I'll be right here, hold my hand

As you continued your concert from on high, thrusting your hand out into the abyss with each line of the song, it finally became too much for Rooster. Cautiously, he stepped out of the shadows and began slowly walking towards the bar. Your eyes were once again closed so you didn’t notice him approaching. Rooster wondered if he should clear his throat or alert you in some way before reaching the bar, but he didn’t want you to stop.

Finally, he was standing directly in front of you just as you thrust out your hand mere inches from his face. Without thinking about it, he grabbed it.

Your eyes immediately snapped open as the joy on your face evaporated. You yanked your hand away from his as you exclaimed, “Rooster!”

I know you're scared and your pain is imperfect But don't you give up on yourself I've heard a story, a girl, she once told me That I would be happy again

“Oh my god! I am so sorry! I didn- I didn’t realize anyone was here. How long where you- oh my god.” You looked around frantically for an easy way to climb off the bar, but without jumping, there wasn’t one.

Rooster silently offered out his hands. You stared at them for a long moment before reluctantly nodding. Carefully, he placed his hands on your hips while yours settled on top of his shoulders. Then, he lifted you down from on top of the bar and placed you gently on the floor, but he didn’t remove his grip on your waist.

“I’m so sorry. I thought I had closed up for the night and I didn’t think anyone else was here. I-I shouldn’t have-” Your face was flushed both from the dancing and embarrassment as you cut yourself off.

You tried to duck your head, to hide in shame, but Rooster placed a finger under your chin and lifted your eyes up to meet his. “It’s okay. I thought it was beautiful. I think you are beautiful.”

You bit your lip as you gazed up at him. “Really?”

“Really. I always have.”

Hold my hand Hold my hand Hold my hand, hold my hand Hold my hand, hold my hand Hold my hand

Rooster cupped your face in his hand and drew you in close until his lips pressed firmly against yours. To his delight, you deepened the kiss, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

When you finally pulled away, the two of you just stared into each other’s eyes, matching smiles on your faces. Then you rested your head on his chest and the two of you began to sway as the music softly faded.

I heard from the heavens

Taglist: @valoraxx, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @ynbutbetter, @americaarse, @reneki, @king-of-milf-lovers, @chouricojr, @sugarcoated-lame

[jungk0oksthighs]

Against The Odds | Fitting

Pairing - jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

Genre - smut, angst, fluff, established relationship, ceo!jungkook, ceo!reader, attorney!taehyung

Word count - 5.2k

You have your first wedding dress fitting

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, oc is stressed, dirty talking, very explicit rough quickie sex, spanking 

FULL SERIES COLLECTION

“Why doesn’t Namjoon just put him in day care? Why does it always have to be you that watches him?” Yuri’s question is innocent enough, her ladoring eyes glued to your nephew who’s sleeping in his car seat next to your big white office desk.

It’s a Monday afternoon and you’re balancing work with caring for baby Charlie – a difficult multitask to say the least. You’re distracted either way you look at it. Your focus can’t be fully on the sizable stack of paperwork you’re going through when he’s awake and crying to be fed. And your sole focus can’t be looking after him when you realise how far behind on said paperwork you truly are.

Yuri has been your assistant since day one of 4U and she’s amazing at what she does. Taking your daily duties in her stride and minimising your workload, managing your conference calls and meetings efficiently to make sure you’re never unavailable for more than an hour at a time. Over the last seven months your relationship with Yuri has blossomed into something more than professional, in fact, you’d consider her to be your only close female friend now.

Much like the overall aesthetic of 4U, every room in the building is decorated dusty pink with gold accessories. It’s a dream to have a little space of your own away from everything when life gets too much, or at least it would be if you weren’t having to juggle being an aunt and CEO of the company most days.

“He trusts me with him, you know how hard it is for parents to send their children off to strangers… Especially at this age.” Why you’re defending your ex-boyfriend you’ve no idea, as much as you love Charles and love spending time with him you can’t remember the last time Namjoon actually stuck to the agreement of you having him one night per week. It’s a little much.

“I get that,” Yuri nods understandingly across from you, flicking her glossy pin-straight black hair over her shoulder, “You’re a lot calmer than I would be about the situation though… If I were you—”

“Except you’re not me.” You playfully roll your eyes, licking your manicured thumb to separate the sheets of paper that have a deadline to be dealt with. That deadline being last week.

“What about your parents? Surely they can help him out?”

“Mmm… My dad isn’t in the best health, I don’t want to put on them right now.”

“Y/N when was the last time you actually slept? Or the last time you had any free time? You can’t keep doing this.” She’s shaking her head gently, her rounded features sympathetic and kind.

You lean back in the velvet pink swivel chair, sighing, “I know… I know… Kook’s told me the same thing.”

Which he has. It seems after his impromptu night out with Taehyung this weekend he’s gained enough confidence to voice his opinion on the matter. Whether that was down to his best friend or not you’ll never know. You do know that your fiancé is coming from a good place though, he thinks that Namjoon is using you for childcare and the evidence does certainly point in that direction. But if it wasn’t you looking after Charles it would be some stranger. What if he didn’t like them? What if he couldn’t settle? What if the stranger wasn’t good with babies? No, you made a promise to yourself to always be there for your nephew, and you’re going to keep that promise no matter how mentally, physically and emotionally draining it’s proving to be.

“Why don’t you get a nanny? It’s not like you and Jungkook can’t afford it. And it doesn’t have to be all the time, just a few hours a week when you have him. You deserve a break, he’s not even your child he’s not your responsibility at the end of the day. Namjoon is asking way too much of you these days.”

A pained laugh bubbles your throat, “Tell me about it.”

A nanny? Doesn’t sound like the worst idea in the world – even if you only have help a couple of hours a week like Yuri said, just so you can focus on your career. And planning your wedding. And staying sane. You sigh again, this time more dramatically when you look to your assistant.

Yuri is great, and she’s fucking beautiful. Everything about her is soft and warm, her plump curves, her gentle smile. At this point you would trust her with your life, hell you’d even trust her with Charlie’s life she’s that caring and kind. Her aura oozes maternal guidance. Sometimes she can be a little… provocative, but you respect her and her life choices either way. Before you met Jungkook you were no stranger to the one night stand lifestyle, it’s not all bad. And she’s right about this, the help would be greatly appreciated right now.

“Can you schedule interviews for some potential child minders? The best of the best though, fully qualified, years of experience… I’ll talk to Namjoon about it see what he says.”

“Of course, only the best of the best for our little man Charlie!” She chuckles, pulling a large rose gold iPad from her bag, “Oh and don’t forget you have a dress fitting this evening at five pm. Your mother and Jimin are meeting us there.”

“Well… Good job you reminded me cause I totally forgot.”

“Just doing my job.” She winks with an exaggerated click of her tongue.

Yuri is great, thank god you found her before she was swooped up by another CEO.

--

Much to your disappointment your mother never arrives to your wedding dress fitting, you presume she’s busy with your sister since the decision on whether she’s ready to leave Cypher House is being made today. You’re not surprised that she’s forgotten, but you do find yourself wiping away a stray tear in the changing rooms when it suddenly dawns on you that she’s genuinely not coming.

“Don’t keep us waiting!” You hear the unmistakable sound of Jimin’s breathy laughter from the waiting area, “I’m dying to see what it looks like after those pictures you sent me! Aww no, what’s wrong little guy? Come to uncle Jimin…”

The plan is to drop Charlie off at Namjoon’s apartment after your dress fitting, the boutique you’ve chosen is closer to your office than his place so it makes the most sense to do it this way. As always Jimin is giggly as ever, happy to be around the bouncing bundle of joy and play the role of the doting uncle. Well, he’s not really his uncle – but heaven forbid anybody tell him that because he’ll set them straight. In his eyes there’s no doubt about it, he is uncle Jimin.

Lace clings to your curves and emphasises your waist, hugging your ass and proudly displaying your bare arms with a subtle amount of cleavage in the strapless gown. if it wasn’t for your glossy eyes staring back at you in the mirror you’d be smiling right now. The dress is perfect, absolutely perfect. You look like a vision, dare you say it maybe even like a floating angel as you gracefully saunter into the main waiting area wearing the gorgeous white gown.

“Oh my god.” Yuri gasps, her mouth agape.

“Y/N… You look…” Jimin is equally as awestricken, his heartfelt smile lights up the room as he bounces your nephew on his knee, covering his ears, “Holy shit Y/N. You look stunning.”

“Thank you.” You smile coyly, picking up the heavy skirt to stand on the white platform that centres the room.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin clocks your disappointment straight away, his crescent moon like eyes growing wider with concern when his fingers toy with his brunette locks, “Don’t you like it?”

“No I love it,” You reassure him, smoothing the heaps of material over your body to get a better look in the mirror, “I think this could be the one… I just wish my mum was here to see it too.”

Yuri deflates, her body language oozing empathy, “I’m sure she has a good reason—"

“Nah fuck her.” Jimin scoffs unapologetically, “It’s her loss, her youngest daughter is getting married you’d think she wouldn’t forget something as important as this. I know she’s your mum but I stand by what I said. Fuck her.”

“Jimin…” Yuri scolds him with shocked features.

“No he’s right… You would’ve thought she’d be a bit more excited about this.” You sigh, trying to keep it together for the sake of everybody in the room.

Your best friend puts Charlie back into his car seat, fixing the clasp and giving him a dummy to keep him occupied before making his way over to the podium. Standing proudly beside you, you have to admit he does look a little humorous wearing blue jeans and a grey t shirt next to a bride to be in the mirror. But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping his arm over your shoulders, soothingly rubbing your bare skin.

“You’re perfect. Look at you…” A smile with the radiance of ten thousand suns tugs his lips.

“It’s not too much?” You alter your pose, trying to catch a glimpse of every angle.

Jimin chuckles, grabbing the small of your waist to spin you in place, “No, it’s just right. Jungkook is a lucky guy, imagine being able to call the most beautiful woman in the world your wife.”

“Mmm,” You snort at his sudden affection, “Yknow that’s a common opinion lately.”

“Oh? Some guy been hitting on you or something?” He asks while rearranging the material of your train, sighing contently when he’s smoothed out the wrinkles, “Do I need to beat someone’s ass? Better yet does Jungkook need to beat someone’s ass?”

“No, just Taehyung being the flirtatious gentleman he is and drunkenly telling me how lucky his best friend is.”

Jimin brings a palm to his mouth, a not-so-successful attempt to stifle his laugher, “He said that? Bold of him to assume Jungkook won’t break his nose for being so forward with you.”

“It wasn’t like that, he was just being nice.” You defend his honour with a small shake of your head.

“Yeah yeah…” You don’t miss the way Yuri eats up the change of subject, giving that she has this insane conspiracy theory that Taehyung, your fiancé’s best friend, has the hots for you, “Just being nice my ass Y/N.” She snorts.

You tut playfully, “He’s like that with everybody honestly, I still need to introduce the two of you properly and you’ll see for yourself.”

“Y/N has a point,” Jimin interjects, still playing around with the fabric of your wedding dress, “The guy’s flirty as fuck at the best of times, never mind after a few drinks.”

“Exactly. Also stop swearing when Charlie’s around, I won’t tell you again.” Your shoulders bounce with silent giggles, this must be the millionth time you’ve scolded him for the self and same thing now.

“Sorry.” He grumbles with a smirk, “Anyway… I don’t think you’re gonna find a dress better than this one. You look perfect-, oh wow is that a pocket?”

“Mhm, I noticed that too… It’s well hidden right?”

“Yeah you can’t tell from the outside at all, so handy.” He nods, further inspecting the garment when he shoves his hand into it, “Perfect for sneaking booze on the big day. Or your phone, pretty sure you could fit a vibrator in here if you really wanted to…”

“I don’t want to.” You snort, jokingly shoving him off the podium, “I hope to be having sex with my new husband that night, not a vibrator.”

Your best friend’s head kicks back with booming laughter when he sits down, taking at least forty pictures of you, “Why not both? You guys are freaks.”

Yuri claps excitedly, “He’s right Y/N… I mean about the dress, I don’t want to know what you and Jungkook get up to behind closed doors... You do look unreal, you need to buy it before somebody else does.” You welcome the conversational change, knowing all too well that you and Jimin would get carried away talking about salacious activities all night if Yuri wasn’t here to put a stop to it.

“Mmm…” You ponder, you do love this dress almost as much as the man you’re marrying, but you still want your mother to see it before you commit to buying it, “Ah I don’t know… I really want my mum’s opinion before I buy a dress.”

“Let’s rearrange another fitting then?” Jimin nods, completely understanding your predicament like he always does. “I’ll drag her here myself if I have to because you need this dress.”

You’re admiring your reflection when you smile contently, “I think you’re right, it’s not gonna get much better than this.”

--

Jungkook scans the apartment upon arrival, noticing your figure on the sofa with your eyes glued to your laptop. You’re so busy trying to catch up with work that you don’t even feel his presence behind you, his inked fingers covering your eyes and blocking your vision.

“What’re you up to?”

“Erm…” You feign a deep thought after you jump, loosely gripping his wrists, “Just catching up with work, well I was before you blinded me.” You chuckle, pulling his hands down to pepper them with tiny kisses.

At this Jungkook snorts, climbing over the back of the sofa as if it’s nothing to sit next to you, “No Charlie tonight?”

You shake your head, gaze fixed to the screen in front of you full of numbers and people’s contact information, “Dropped him off at Joon’s after the fitting.”

“Ah, how’d it go? You find your dress yet?”

“I think so.” You smile brightly, turning to face him, “I’m almost done with this by the way, I’ll be all yours in like… thirty minutes.”

“You work too hard these days,” He kisses your shoulder before standing, “I’ll do dinner tonight then, what do you fancy? Besides me.”

Your head kicks back with a small giggle, “I’m not really hungry to be honest.”

“Still gotta eat though baby, I’ll fix us something small while you finish work.”

You watch your fiancé head into the kitchen, ogling the way his back muscles flex beneath his blue fitted shirt a little too long to be considered a coincidence. As always he looks impeccable, dark hair slicked back save for one tiny strand that rests against his forehead. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, flaunting his intricate body art and expensive Rolex.

“Sooo… how was the fitting? Did your mom cry?” He chuckles in the midst of banging pots and pans and glassware around in the other room.

“Actually she didn’t come.” You sigh, still debating whether or not to message her and ask why she couldn’t make it, “Was just me, Jimin and Yuri.”

The silence is sudden and thick, you know he’s probably just as disappointed as you with your mother and doesn’t know what to say to comfort you. It’s okay though, it gives you some time to gather your thoughts and input the correct data into the spreadsheet you’re working on. When you graduated business school you knew that this field of work would be time consuming and somewhat difficult. Maybe it’s because you’re worn out, or maybe you’re just having an off day, but for whatever reason you can’t bring yourself to fully concentrate on the task at hand.

“Did you at least get a picture of the dress to show her?” Is what Kook settles for, you can’t see him right now but you know he’s probably shaking his head in disbelief that your own mother didn’t go to your wedding dress fitting.

“Yeah Jimin took like fifty… Plus I’ve scheduled another fitting so she can see it in the flesh before I buy it.”

“Mmm, good idea. How much is it?”

“None of your business.” You laugh to yourself, “I told you already I’m paying for my own dress you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Fine, fine, just trying to lessen your burden and be a good husband but whatever…” He sighs defeatedly, but something tells you this won’t be the end of it, “Can I see a picture of it?”

This gets your attention. You give up with work and save the document before shutting your laptop. “First of all you aren’t my husband yet, and secondly it’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding and you know it is.”

“Didn’t realise you were superstitious… Does it really count if it’s just a picture though?” He hums, completely unaware of you presence in the room. You sneak up behind him, covering his eyes with your manicured hands.

“What’re you up to?” You giggle, nuzzling your head into his muscular back. Fuck, he smells like expensive cologne with the faintest hint of warm vanilla.

At this Jungkook removes your hands, playfully taking them between his teeth and biting them, “Trying to cook us some dinner… Except I don’t know what I’m doing.” He scoffs, obviously ashamed of himself, “Is instant ramen okay? Actually do we even have instant ramen? I can’t remember the last time we went grocery shopping.”

“You know in all the time we’ve been living together I’ve seen you use this kitchen like… twice.” You snort, and he turns in place to look down at you with disapproving hooded eyes.

“Does fucking in the kitchen count as using it?” His brow quirks, smirk plastered on his handsome face, “Because if it does I think we both know I’ve definitely used it more than twice.”

Snaking your hands up to his body you drape them round his neck, pulling him closer, “Wanna use it one more time?” You mirror his smirk, toying with the dark hairs at the nape of his neck.

A deep, throaty chuckle rattles his chest before he grips the back of your thighs and plants you onto the kitchen island. “You… are something else.” He whispers, crashing his lips to yours in a series of frenzied, messy kisses that make your head spin.

“Shit, feels like we haven’t done this in ages.” He pants, breath hot against your mouth while you get to work unbuttoning his shirt. He’s right, you haven’t had sex in almost a week and your bodies already crave each other from every little touch.

“I know…” You moan, throwing your head back in bliss when he expertly removes your shirt and bra and begins tweaking your sensitive nipples, “Fuck… Jungkook please, no teasing tonight. I need you now.”

Dipping his head to your chest he takes one bud between his lips and sucks harshly, groaning against your skin when you cup the huge bulge in his trousers. It’s desperate, it’s rushed, it’s messy and it’s hot. Nearly seven days of pent up frustration stains the air, you’ve been so stressed recently that you allow yourself to be completely consumed by the sexiest man you know, quickly freeing his length from his clothes.

“Baby… You’re not gonna be able to walk when I’m done with you.” He murmurs, snapping his head back to yours, tongue sliding past your lips with urgency. One hand tugs the hair at your scalp, pulling your head back to give him easier access. The other hand kneads your breast with so much pressure you’re certain you’ll be bruised tomorrow.

“Fuck… Jungkook please, fuck me.” You mewl, hands flying up to his neck to bring him impossibly closer.

He wastes no time in grabbing the waistband of your sweats, urging you to lift up slightly before he drags them off your legs and throws them to the ground. His cock looks painfully hard, it feels painfully hard when you begin to pump the shaft, fuelled by nothing but the desire to have him now. His unbuttoned dress shirt hangs loosely from his frame, drawing more attention to his toned and taught abdomen that tenses beneath your ministrations. He’s a whimpering wreck, as are you, both so fucking desperate to feel each other in every way possible.

“You’re so fucking sexy Y/N… And all mine.” He swallows your moans, dropping a hand to your core he roughly rubs his palm to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh my god-,” You hiss, hips buckling up to meet his hand, “Right there, fuck yes…”

“Right here?” He takes your lip between his teeth, biting down hard enough to draw blood, but in this moment you can’t bring yourself to care. His palm presses down on your clit even harder, your thighs are already jolting and jumping from the oversensitivity, “Use your words.”

“Right there!” You nod frantically, the slick between your folds spilling out onto the countertop with every movement he makes.

“I’ve missed seeing you like this…” He hisses when you cup his balls, eyes squeezed shut with his sharp jaw hanging open, “So fucking sexy, nothing compares to how you look right now.”

“Ahh-,” You whine, marking the flesh of his neck with harsh sucks and open-mouthed kisses, “Shit... Keep going… Don’t stop.”

In one swift display of brute strength Jungkook lifts you from the kitchen island, turns your back to his sweat-beaded chest and bends you over the surface. The countertop is cool against your naked body, you almost complain at the loss of contact but before you have chance your fiancé brings his palm down to the fat of your ass cheek in a loud, stinging slap that pierces the atmosphere.

“You’re not coming just yet baby.” He delivers another ruthless slap, squeezing the pain away once he’s done, “I need you to come around my cock tonight.”

“Then fuck me…” You pant against the kitchen side, “Please…”

Within seconds he’s slammed every hard inch of himself into your sopping walls, until the crown of him smacks against your cervix. A guttural moan tears from his throat at the sensation of your wet pussy welcoming him, squeezing him in the most sinful way. You gasp, feeling so unbearably stuffed, almost like you’re about to split open any second.

“Jungkook!” Your mouth hangs open in a silent ‘o’, hands knocking everything off the surface you’re bent over when you scramble to support your weight.

With one hand digging into your hip hard enough to shatter bones, and the other pushing your face against the worktop he pounds you hard. So hard that you’re blubbering from his huge size, but he doesn’t let up, no, his thick member assaults your hole so vigorously, so dangerously rough each time he pulls back and rams himself back in. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the penthouse, along with grunted profanities from the man snapping his pelvis to your ass so hard that your legs already feel like jelly.

“Baby…” The pet name slips out of his lips despite the fact he’s biting down on them hard, brows furrowed with pleasure when the hand on your head starts to explore the length of your spine, “Such a good fucking girl for me, hm?”

Unable to muster coherent words you nod in agreement, but that does nothing save for earning you another harsh spank to your ass. You’re sure you hear him chuckle from behind, the sound almost goes unnoticed between the squelching and banging noises between your hot bodies.

“Yes!” You scream, the coil that lies in the depths of your stomach tightening with each and every thrust into you, “I’m-, I’m close.”

“Already?” He says with a smirk, snaking his spanking hand round your front to rub messy patterns against your throbbing clit, “Go on, come all over my cock. Show me how good it feels.” He huffs.

“Ohhh-,” You knock something else off the countertop, by the sounds of it it was a glass that’s now shattered on the ground, “Oh my god…” You’re shrieking from equal parts pain and pleasure, abdomen hot and tight with a flame that threatens to ignite at any moment.

“You like it when I fuck you like this?” Jungkook groans when your walls tighten around him, your orgasm fast approaching, “Tell me how much you like it.” He manages to choke out between hisses and grunts.

“So-, sooo much…” Your head is spinning, body jolting up and down the surface with every hard slam of his hips. But it’s the way he speeds up rubbing your clit, so agonisingly fast that your orgasm hits you without much more of a warning, “I’m gonna—” Your own obscene moans cut you off, your walls contracting and squeezing Jungkook’s length when you come.

“Fuck!” Both his hands find your hips, dragging your limp body back to his cock as though it wasn’t deep inside you enough already, “You’re gonna make me come… Shit, shit, shit—”

You’re sobbing, body aching and bruised but you’ve never known a relief like it. It’s after ten, maybe eleven more hard pounds to your pussy that your fiancé’s own orgasm hits him harder than a tonne of bricks. He bottoms out, shoving every centimetre of himself deep into you with a husky groan that sounds borderline animalistic when he fills you with come.

It’s a good job he’s behind you because when the tip of him presses against your cervix again your knees finally give way and buckle. He catches you effortlessly, breaking your fall before it happens. The sound of heavy breathing fades into white noise as you revel in the sinful ecstasy enveloping your naked body. You’re so utterly fucked out that you don’t hear Jungkook speaking to you, not until he’s pulling your body up to his chest and turning it to face him.

“Mind the glass…” He repeats with an exhale in a low voice, pressing his damp forehead to yours. When you don’t respond he chuckles, “Earth to Y/N… Are you okay?”

You nod, still trying to steady your breathing, “Mmm, I’m-, I’m fine…”

“Sorry if I went too far, you should’ve said—”

“You didn’t.” You reassure him immediately, draping your hands round his neck, “Promise me that when we’re married you’ll still fuck me like that.”

“Oh that’s a done deal.” His white teeth almost clink against yours when he kisses you, his lips gentle and soft.

There’s something so intimate about having someone wash you. Maybe it’s the way Jungkook brushes the soapy sponge against your skin in the shower, or maybe it’s simply the fact that he’s that also naked in the shower with you. Whatever the reason, you find it difficult to imagine ever loving him more than you do in this moment. Fuck, how did you get so lucky? Once you’re both dressed, well barely, you’re wearing nothing other than one of your fiancé’s oversized t shirts. He's wearing grey sweatpants that hang a little low on his hips… You follow him into the kitchen on shaky legs, having worked up quite the appetite.

“Oh hey Tae, when did you get here?” Jungkook looks equally as surprised as you, his best friend’s feline eyes are comically wide with concern at all the smashed glassware and dishes that scatter the floor.

Taehyung must’ve come here straight from the gym, his damp purple workout clothes a clear giveaway. He’s frowning, gesturing to the mess you’ve made with his large hands, “What the fuck happened in here? Did you guys get into a fight?”

“Not quite.” Jungkook clears his throat, tonguing his cheek before sharing a knowing look with you that makes you blush. “Sorry I didn’t hear you come in. Everything okay?”

You don’t miss the realisation that washes over Taehyung, his eyes flickering to you before the Adam’s apple in his throat bobs somewhat uncomfortably, “I-, yeah everything’s fine… I just came by to let you know that Ruth’s legal team got in touch with me.”

“Wait, what?” Your legs almost give way again but you manage to steady yourself, something else that doesn’t seem to go a miss by the now very awkward looking attorney.

“So you were right, she got out tonight.” He doesn’t look at you, instead his eyes bore into his best friend who visibly tenses at his words, “She’s with her parents now.”

“You told him?” You’re next to look at Jungkook, confusion and disappointment blanketing your features.

“I-,” He doesn’t try to defend his honour, instead he shakes his head softly with a guilt-ridden expression, “I’m sorry baby, I was drunk and in my defence Tae did say he wouldn’t say anything…” If looks could kill, Taehyung would’ve been shot to the ground that very moment.

Your brows raise, “That’s not really a good defence Kook…”

“I know, fuck I’m so sorry Y/N it just slipped out in conversation.”

Taehyung sighs from across the room, eyes locked on to your frame, “Shit Y/N I’m sorry… I-, he did ask me not to-, yknow what I’m just gonna leave you guys to it. I hope you’re okay... I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything Tae,” A puff of unamused air comes from your nostrils when your stare finds your fiancé looking akin to a deer caught in headlights, “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Jungkook makes his way over to you, “Baby I’m so sorry… Don’t go to bed yet you still need to eat something.”

“Goodnight Jungkook.” Your tone is a little harsher than intended when you turn on your heel, and so you soften your next words, “I’ll see you later Taehyung.”

When you make it to the bedroom you close the door behind you, you’re certain you hear Taehyung apologising to Jungkook again and again as well as the sound of someone cleaning the kitchen. But none of that matters now… You climb into bed and angry tears cloud your vision, so that’s why your mother couldn’t make it today.

Ruth is back. But more importantly, Charlie’s mother is back.

x

[plussizeficchick]

Heat│TodoBakuDeku x Chubby Reader

Warnings: smut,(kinda bottom Deku, so switch?) a/b/o au

Your alphas loved to take care of you.

Izuku loved to shower you in love. Waking you up in the morning with soft, sweet kisses to your chubby cheeks, effectively persuading you to wake the other two alphas in a similar fashion so you could all start the day together. Kissing along your most sensitive areas, paying special attention to the parts that you’re insecure about because hey, to them, you are simply perfection.

Katsuki is a bit more rugged in his loving, but he’s always going to make sure you’re well fed, and that you know he loves you at least twice a day. He’s sure that you have a balanced breakfast, at least two snacks for throughout the day, a hearty lunch and savory dinner(which usually ends with them having you for dessert, by I digress). He’s also big on aftercare, always making sure to massage your sore body after a particularly intense session and give you water and a light snack to restore your energy.

Todoroki is a silent, brooding love. He lurks behind you, but he’s always ready to comfort or defend you if anyone steps out of line. He’s the one you feel the most reassurance with, because he’s always looking at you. Always has to be near you. He holds you the tightest at night, almost as if he’s afraid you’d disappear, and is the most passionate in love making. Not to say your other alphas didn’t always leave you quivering, body shaking from the intensity of the orgasms, but he always seems so adamant about seeing you cum. Like every time he has you gushing on his tongue is the first, like every time he slips his thick cock into your dripping entrance is his last.

This is all to say, they loved when your heat came around.

You were an independent person, always have been, so when you had entered this relationship with three of the strongest heroes in all of Japan, you were in for a bit of a culture shock. They didn’t want you working, worried that the alphas at your workplace would try to harass you, but you were insistent on working. So as a compromise, you work as their secretary, planning meetings and pr events. However, your heat was coming far earlier than expected, so you had to stay home and work from there.

When the men opened the door to your shared home, they were immediately hit with your scent. Katsuki’s mouth watered as the scent wafted up his nose, “Seems like our pretty little omega’s heat came early. And she didn’t let her alphas know, we gotta punish her.” He says, turning to face the other too. “Maybe it just came,” Izuku says, trying to save face. “We shouldn’t overwhelm our puppy too much.” He says, eyes watering at the thought of you in pain. “We know what she can handle, Midoriya. You know we wouldn’t push her too far.” Shoto says. While he seemed indifferent on the outside, he was eager to bury himself in your soaked walls. Maybe he’d eat you out while you sucked one of the others off. Just the thought of it was enough to get his dick hard. “You’re not fooling anyone, Deku. I know you can’t wait to stuff our little girl full of cum, your dick’s practically busting out your pants.” He says in Izuku’s ear, causing the alpha to blush and release a small whimper. “K-Kacchan.” He whines. “Let’s go take care of our omega, then I’ll fuck you dumb, nerd.” He grumbles before pulling him into a rough kiss. He swirls his tongue inside Izuku’s wet cavern, before pulling away abruptly, Izuku chasing after him. “Ah, ah. After.” Katsuki shushes, emphasizes his point by giving him a sharp spank.

The men move towards your shared bedroom, the intensity of your scent thickening the further they go. They open the door and are faced with the most erotic sight. You’re naked, legs spread as far as they can go, and you have three fingers stuffed inside your cunt. You’re squirming, whining as your fingers are hardly alleviating the pain, hardly kissing your sweet spot. They’re drenched though, covered in your sweet slick that the heroes can’t get enough of. Because you’re so enraptured in trying to get off, you didn’t even register their scents until they entered the room. Once you’re aware, you turn your attention to the direction where it’s coming from. “A-alphas, I, mm.” You whine, unable to finish your sentence. “Shh, it’s okay baby.” Shoto reassures you. “Your alphas are going to make it better, baby.” He coos, moving to join you on the bed. “Oi, get undressed first. I think we’re going to get real messy.” Bakugo suggests, already in the process of removing his clothes. The other two alphas join him and while they are busy doing that, you try to occupy yourself by actually getting off. “Hey, stop that.” Bakugo demands when he realized what you were trying to do. “But, ‘Suki. It hurts.” You whine, trying to get some relief. He snatches your hand away from your pussy, “Don’t test me, little girl. It’s going to hurt more if you don’t let us take care of it.” He says roughly. “Be careful, Kacchan!” Izuku calls out, not wanting you to feel more discomfort. Turning his attention to Izuku, Katsuki’s eyes hardened. “That’s it nerd, on your fucking knees. I’m not going to ask twice.” Immediately heeding his warning, Izuku falls to his knees, eyes looking up at Katsuki. “Now, while I take care of this brat, you take care of that one, Icyhot.” Bakugo instructs, moving to stand in front of Izuku.

Taking his place in front of you, Shoto runs his hands all across your plump frame. “Hey, love. How are you feeling?” He asks, wanting to give you relief. “Hot, sensitive. Please, Sho. I need to cum.” “I’ve got you baby. I’ve got you.” He reassures, kissing along your stomach, trailing down to where you needed him the most. He inhaled your scent before diving in, tongue lashing out and sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue gliding over the bud in rhythmic flicks. You card your fingers through his bi-colored tresses, gripping it when he slides his tongue into your entrance, wiggling around. “Sho, baby. Shit.” You moan out, head hazy with pleasure. In the distance you hear Izuku, swallowing around Katsuki’s cock, the wet sounds of his mouth getting fucked. “That’s it, shitty Deku. Swallow that fucking dick.” Katsuki groans, thrusting harder into Izuku’s mouth. Shoto thrusts two fingers inside you, cooled by his quirk, and it’s the difference in the heat of his mouth and the chill of his fingers that send you over the edge, intensified by your heat. Shoto works you through it, but decides that you deserve another since you waited all day for them to come home. “Cum again, baby. Make a mess for us, pretty girl.” Shoto groans, resting his unused hand on your stomach. He loved your stomach, loved how it jiggled from the intensity of your orgasms. Loved how squishy, and soft and malleable it felt. He’s slurping up all of your slick before switching tactics. He cools his tongue and heats up his fingers, flicking your clit with his chilled tongue. You hold his head against your cunt, lifting your hips to ride his face. “That’s it baby. Fuck his face.” Katsuki encourages, moving to prep Deku. You cum again with a shout, working your hips through your orgasm.

Shoto comes up for air, kissing along your body to calm you down, before sliding his tongue inside your mouth, eager for you to taste yourself. You moan into the kiss, the taste of yourself slipping on your tongue. Once you separate, you all turn to Katsuki for further instruction. “Okay, princess. The nerd here has been dying to get into that sweet cunt all day, so I’m going to fuck him while he fucks you. Icyhot over there can take your mouth, sound good?” He asks. While he was the most dominant in the bedroom, if you were ever uncomfortable, he’d immediately stop. You nod, moving to get into position when Katsuki grabs your face, hard. “Need to hear it, princess.” He says. “Yes, ‘Suki. It’s ‘kay.” You say through clenched cheeks. “Good.” He says before placing a brief kiss to your puckered lips.

You all get into position, Izuku between your legs and Katsuki behind him. Shoto stood in front of you, cock hard and dripping pre. “Ready, baby? Remember to tap three times if it’s too much.” You nod and and open your mouth, eager to taste your alpha’s cock. He and Izuku slide in at the same time, groaning at the feeling of you wrapped around them. “Fuck, puppy. Feel so good.” Izuku whines, thrusting slowly but deep, hitting the deepest parts of your cunt. “Don’t blow your load yet, nerd. I haven’t fucked you yet.” Bakugo grunts, lubing up his cock and fisting it to stiffen. “Please, Kacchan. Hurry.” Deku whines. Bakugo doesn’t take too kindly to Izuku’s demands, so he thrusts his full length inside, giving him no warning. “Ah, fuck k-Kacchan.” “Take it, fucking take it, Deku.” Bakugo grunts in his ear, mouthing at his neck. Izuku’s hips starts to stutter, losing his rhythm. “Oh, no baby.” Bakugo says, slowing his thrusts. “You have to make our little omega cum first if you wanna get off. Actually,” He cuts himself off by thrusting hard into Izuku. As a result, Izuku’s cock hit further in your cunt, practically kissing your cervix. “I’ll help you. Since I have to do everything.” Katsuki sets a vigorous pace, the thrusts from him helping Izuku fuck into you, and in doing that, it helps you suck Shoto better, your throat contracting around his length. “I’m gonna cum, baby.” Shoto whines, thrusting harder into your mouth. After a few more thrusts he cums, his thick load coating your throat, sliding down as you swallow. Izuku starts to thumb your clit, eager to feel you clench around his cock. “Cum for us, puppy. Make a mess, baby.” Izuku practically begs, clenching around Katsuki’s cock as he pounds into his prostate. You cum all over his length, cunt gushing with your release. The feeling triggers Izuku’s orgasm which he had been staving off for a while. He shoots his load in your cunt, the warmth filling your tummy as he fucks through it. Bakugo is the last to cum, pulling out of Izuku to dump his cum over his ass, the sight enough to coax his cock into hardness once again.

They all pull away and collapse beside you on the bed, each of them reaching out to cuddle some part of you. Katsuki kisses the top of your head and moves to get you water, knowing your throat will probably be sore for a while. The other two cuddle closer to you, hands grabbing at whatever soft flesh is available. You know it’s calm now as you run your fingers through their hair, but it’s only a matter of time before you’re doing it all over again.

[leviismybby]

Finders keepers

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x female reader

Warning: NSFW 18+, minors dni.

Concept: Levi steals a very important file from your desk during a meeting, furious you confront him about it which leads to interesting events.

This was my first request! I was really exited to write it! :) My tumblr has been glitchy lately I tried posting this from my drafts five times and it didn't work. I'm glad that it's working now.

It all happened on accident to be fair, you didn't really think that you would actually end up in the MP. That wasn't your plan anyway. 

It was shitty, most days you were surrounded by drunk idiots who had no idea what they are doing in life. You aren't so fond of the king nor his men either which was the deepest pit of irony.  

However, as with many things in your life, your father decided that the best way to get in a even better position with the government is to have his only child work under MP. 

He was a politician, selfish and consumed by greed. One of the reasons you don't enjoy being back home. 

Being a captain was something other would cherish, most probably wouldn't shut about it but you hated it. Every single responsibility fell on you including those of Commander Dok. 

In terms of competition between the three regiments and their captains, you were nearly a mouse. Rico who was the captain of the garrison regiment was strong-minded and always knew what she wanted; she was a good fighter too. The scouts have Levi, humanity's strongest soldier they call him, which speaks enough for itself. 

And he is also someone you can't stand. There isn't a reason really, other than the humiliating sexual tension, you had absolutely no reason to dislike him. 

His approach at times is.... harsh, his mouth is silent only a few scoffs are heard from him during meetings. Still, his every move manages to catch your attention.  

It always ends up with the two of you endlessly teasing or provoking each other but never going all the way. It's been like that for months and in the last few weeks, you have been fed up with it. 

Today, however, he isn't even in the meeting which was weird on many occasions since captains were required for it. You aren't about to question Commander Smith either, that would get you nowhere. The man had an annoying sense of intelligence that you and many others hated.  

Commander Dok is trying his best not to seem intimidated by the man before him but you know damn well that inside he is crumbling, having absolutely no idea how to outsmart the man. 

"On that note, that was all I needed to discuss this meeting." Smith leans back in his chair, blue eyes glued to Nile the entire time. 

It was a discussion alright; more supplies are needed for the scouts and you agree with the blonde on that one. They are the ones risking their lives every few months while the worst task you had to take was braining old and drunk Pixis home. But to call a meeting for a manner like this was unnecessary. 

"Others are needed to agree, how do you know that your captain agrees with these terms?" 

"He does" It comes out quickly and bluntly. Erwin knows that his commanding officers stand by his side no matter what, an honor that Nile will probably never have. 

"We need to see if he does."  

"Unlike you Nile, I have a captain and squad leaders that completely trust me." His eyes now shift to you clearly aware of your disappointment with the MP.  

Nile swallows hard, clearly understanding that he isn't getting anywhere with Erwin.  

-------------------------------- 

The meeting was getting progressively more boring as the commanders conversed about the walls. A subject that you have no interest in what's so ever. 

"Excuse me." You smile getting up from the table, all eyes on you as you exit the room. Finally, out of there, you pull out a cigarette and light it as you sit in the floor. 

The hallway was empty only voices of people were heard in the distance. Glass windows were beautifully colored as the sun was setting. 

"Well, well..." Turning your head to the voice you roll your eyes as Levi comes into your view. "Tch." Is all you get in response as he slides down to sit next to you. 

"Where were you today?" You ask actually curious about his answer. Maybe he was simply having a bad day and didn't feel like including himself. 

"Shitty eyes needed help with their experiment." 

"You must really hate meetings since you freely joined Hange." Well, this particular one, he didn't miss out usually. That makes you a little suspicious about the whole situation. 

The whole call for this meeting was suspicious in the first place. Erwin could've just requested the supplies without having to hold a meeting. There might be something else entirely. However, you don't question further, you might be overthinking this whole thing. 

Levi lifts your hand taking a smoke out of your cigarette and blowing it into the air. "Never took you for that sort captain." You take the cigarette back into your mouth finishing it. "I could've just given you one, y'know." 

"Where is the fun in that?" His eyebrow slightly raises and you smirk finishing the last blow of the cigarette before stepping on it with your foot. 

"Fun is subjective captain." Just as Levi was about to say something the door opens, Nile storming out first followed by a calm Pixis and even calmer Erwin. 

You and Levi side eye each other before standing upon to your feet. It could mean two things really: Nile didn't get what he wanted or Pixis once again agreed with Erwin. 

"We'll go. Thank you for your time, Commander Pixis. (Name)." Erwin gives you a smile before walking away with Levi and Pixis.  

Rico exits the meeting room surprised to see that you didn't run after Nile. She didn't say anything only awkwardly eyed you as you faced her. "I still have things to do in my office. Bye Rico." 

Rico only shrugged and followed the three men into the hallway as you made your way to your office. Part of you relieved other part wondering why your commander stormed off so angrily out of the room. 

You sigh looking at your desk, eyes go wide when you see what's missing. "What??" Whispering to yourself you quickly look around the table before looking into your drawers. 

The yellow file is missing, a file that you are supposed to bring Nile tomorrow, a file signed by the king himself.  

It starts to kick in when you realize from which direction Levi was coming from earlier as he was approaching you. "That motherfucker!" Slamming the drawers shut, you put your jacket on before going out of your office directly to the stables. 

__________________________________ 

When you get to the scout's HQ it's already dark. All eyes are on you as you walked towards Levi's office. You knew that there was something else behind the whole thing today. 

You don't even knock only to enter and see him completely relaxed sitting in his chair while drinking tea. It's almost like he was expecting you. 

Closing the door roughly behind you, you approach him putting your hands at the sides is his table looking at him directly. 

"Give me my file back." 

Levi scoffs leaning back in his chair completely unbothered "What file captain?" You swear that you see his stupid lips form into a little smirk. 

"Don't play games with me. The yellow file you stole from my desk earlier. Give it back." Now he sits up mocking your stance and leaning his face close to yours. 

"Stole? It was laying on your desk, finders keepers."  

"Oh really? Those files are important Levi." You try your best for your eyes not to wonder down to his lips. You can't let him have an advantage over you, not now. 

He leans back, taking his teacup in his hand. "Too bad." Levi takes a sip before sitting in his chair, crossing his legs. "I already gave them to Erwin." 

With your words falling on dead end, you decide that another option is to get them from Erwin yourself. 

"Then I'll get them back." You make your way to the door just as you are about to open it Levi's hands are placed at the either side of your head. 

"You'll do no such thing because I know damn well that you could give two fucks about the king."  

"You're right I don't care about the king but I'm not trying to lose my promotion."  

"Is that really what this anger is about?" No, it isn't, you're sexually frustrated but you aren't about to tell him that. 

"What are you on about?" You try to push him back but It's useless, he isn't budging no matter how hard your hands push against his chest.  

"Playing dumb now, are we? I know that we are both thinking the same fucking thing right now. Why are you in denial?" He takes your hands pinning your wrists above your head, his body now fully pressed to yours. 

"I'm in no denial." You try your best to sound unphased but can't, the way his body is so close to yours is making you go crazy. 

"Let's see, shall we?" He roughly kisses you, wasting no time slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan trying to free your wrists from his grip but Levi only makes it tighter. 

His other hand moves to your hip, massaging the flesh there slightly before it moves to your face gripping your jaw and pulling you away from the kiss. 

"You've been such a pain in the ass for the last few days you know that?" He puts his thumb in your mouth and you suck on it without a second thought. 

"Fuck." Levi let's go of your hands and you immediately put them in his raven hair. Picking you up by your thighs you wrap your legs around his hips, kissing him again as he carries you to who knows where. 

Your back hits the hard wall times almost knocking out a breath out of you, your hands reach from his hair to his scout jacket trying to take it off him. 

Levi makes it easier for you taking the jacket off by himself. The only thing supporting you is his body and the cold wall behind you. His hands return to your hips grinding you on his erection. 

You break the kiss throwing your head back on the wall, Levi uses the opportunity to leave wet kisses on your neck. Once he sees you shiver when he kisses that special spot, he sucks at the skin. 

"No marks Lev-ah." He bites down this time surely leaving a hickey in his wake. "Don't fucking tell me what to do." His voice is harsh yet somehow needy at the same time.  

Before you know it, your jacket and shirt are on the floor as he is now groping your breasts through your bra while his lips trail down to your collarbone.  

Your bra follows shortly after leaving your upper body completely naked. Levi pulls away for a moment, looking at you through half lined eyes filled with lust.  

Kissing your shoulder blade, he carries you again and this time your body hits the soft matters. "Spread those legs for me pretty girl." You do as you are told spreading your legs as Levi takes his white blouse off. 

Crawling between your legs, he kisses your stomach all the way up to your breast. His mouth finds your nipple and you arch your back, heavy moan leaving your lips. 

"If you're this loud now I can't wait to hear you sing once I'm inside of you." He moves to the other nipple this time teasing it with his teeth. 

"Captain!" You yelp hands at his shoulders. Levi only smirks relesing your breast from his mouth, he kisses you again this time slow. 

Your hands reach down to his cock, squeezing it over his pants. A groan escapes his mouth and he bites your bottom lip nibbling on it afterwards. 

His lips are swollen as he pulls away, eyes darker grey than ever before. You search as his head lowers planting a few kisses on your navel stopping just before your belt.  

Your hips buck on their own, body eagerly desperate for his next move. He chuckles slapping your ass and hooking his fingers around your belt. He pulls your pants down, leaving you only in your underwear.  

For a moment he doesn't do anything letting his eyes roam all over your figure. A light touch is placed on your pussy and you shiver under him. 

"So wet. I knew you would be." With that your underwear is off, Levi admires your bare cunt, making you feel almost shy. 

"Aww is my captain getting all bashful now? Acting like just a minute ago you didn't have your hand on my cock, are you?" He takes your hand and kisses your lips. Lowering his head down between your thighs, he runs a finger down your slit. 

When you feel his tongue press against your pussy, you pull on his hair slightly. Levi takes it as a sign so he kisses up and downward a few times before lapping on your wetness. 

"Yes Levi!" Moaning your fingers dig deeper into his hair pulling on his raven locks as he eats you out like a man starved. "Atta girl." You're in pure bliss, he is making you feel so good just with his tongue. 

It doesn't take you long to feel that feeling of pleasure building up in your stomach. "Captain! I'm coming." Just as those words leave your mouth Levi stops, face full of your slick as he comes back upon from in between your legs. 

"Why did you stop?" Your arms are around his neck, trying your best to understand why he denied your orgasm. 

"Because the only way you're cumming is around my cock. Now be a good girl and get on all fours." Removing your hands from his neck, you get into the position he desired, biting your lip as you do so. 

The sound of belt unbuckling can be heard from behind you which makes you more excited. "Give me your hands." And you do so, without complaints. You would give him anything in this moment. 

Your wrists are tied together, face is in the mattress. "You ready?" He asks massaging your ass as he rubs his tip against your entrance. Nodding your head, you try to muffle the loud moan that comes out of your lips as Levi enters you easily. 

"On fuck! You're so big, Levi. I can't-mmhhg." He slaps your ass. "You can and you will take it." Feeling your walls ease around him, Levi starts thrusting slowly into you.  

One of his hands is holding your tied wrists while the other is on your hip. "Such a good cunt." Surprisingly his voice sounds whiney, he is enjoying every bit of you. 

Slow thrust turn more passionate as you try to move your hips with in sync with him. You're moaning like a animal, he is fucking you so well that you can't describe it.  

"Yes there! Yes!" Are the only capable words out of your mouth as his piece grows rougher and harder. He really did want to take his time with you but seeing you like this, ass up, face down drove him wild. 

"Good fucking girl. I should've known you wanted to be fucked like this, we could've done this long ago." He frees your wrists, wrapping his arm around your waist and bringing you up, your back to his chest. 

This angle hits at the one special spot and Levi notices it in your expression. You're almost drooling and he is enjoying his power over you. 

Kissing your cheek, he takes your jaw in his hand forcing you to look at him. "Is this what you wanted? Forgetting about that file because you are a slut for my cock huh?" He speeds up, fucking your brains out. 

"Slow down!" He doesn't only keep this pace until he feels you clench around him. Then he slows, your head is laying on his shoulder mouth opened with the most flattering tone for Levi leaving your lips. 

"gon-a c-cum" You're not making sense at this point as his cock hits the deepest part of you, you'll never be this satisfied with anything else and you know it. 

"My good girl cum." His thrusting picks upon its pace again, loving the way you're going completely stupid on his cock. "Cum princess. I'm close too." 

You feel that sensation fill you and when Levi puts one of his hands around your neck, the feeling explodes leaving your body weak. 

Levi is the only thing holding you up as he thrust a few more times before pulling out and cumming all over your back. 

He let's go of you and you both fall onto the mattress, sweaty and spent. You feel a light kiss on the top of your back.  

"Still want that file?" 

Chuckling you turn around, hair all messy. "No as long as you keep up this energy for the rest of the night."  

Levi leans over you kissing the mark he left on your neck. "We can arrange that."

[riceybaby]

bedtime kisses 🤍 - mason mount

synopsis - after a very long day, you and mason put your son to bed

It had been an exhausting day. Your two year old son was going through a phase where no matter how much you and Mason tried, he just would not do what he was told. After hours of gruelling to get him fed, changed, take him on a walk, fed and changed again, there was finally peace on the horizon as you walked into your living room to see your husband and son dozing off together, one tiny pinky holding onto a much larger one.

It was times like this when you fully got to appreciate how similar the pair looked. Henry had managed to get his eyes, his nose and his smile, that of which you were not mad about at all. Mase tells you that just means he’s going to grow up to be as lovely as his mummy, but you secretly hoped he ended up with the personality of his dad too. You looked at the time and saw it was 10pm, and to save yourself from having two very grumpy boys in the morning, you needed to get them both into bed.

“Masey” you whispered, leaning over him and pressing light kisses against his lips, “you fell asleep.”

He slowly opened his eyes and groaned, but a soft smile spread across his face when he saw you stood before him. It was obvious he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but in the process of getting his son ready for bed, had managed to do the same to himself.

“Sorry baby” he said quietly, the sleep still laying thick in his voice. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your child came up to your face, cupping your cheek. “I’ll take him up, you go get yourself comfy, I won’t be too long.”

You told him it was fine and you would go up with him, so with a light kiss to your forehead, he slowly got up and took Henry in his arms. Careful to not wake him up, he picked up his Chelsea blanket and teddy bear, taking him and his two most prized possessions up the stairs. You however, had never met a baby who was such a light sleeper. The second he felt the movement of his dad climbing upwards, he began to stir and wriggle about.

“Shhh hey little guy” Mason cooed into his ear, ruffling his hair gently in an effort to familiarise his son with his surroundings. “It’s just mummy and daddy taking you to bed.”

Mason found himself being stared at by the big brown eyes that you had to love even more than you ever thought possible, as Henry just took him in, not entirely sure of what was going on but knowing that he felt safe in his dad’s arms.

“There you go buddy, just put your head back on my shoulder, that’s it, good boy.”

Despite that fact you watched Mason do this every day, it never failed to make you want to burst with love at the interactions between the pair. Henry was Mason’s world just as much as Mason was Henry’s, and watching your husband be the dad you always knew he would be was so precious it hurt.

When you got to his room, Mason reached down to put him into his bed, pressing a kiss to his cheek and leaning down to bed next to him. “You go back to sleep now ok buddy? Gotta get lots of energy so you can terrorise mummy while I’m at work tomorrow haven’t you?” (This earned him a light knee in the back from you) “Love you Hen, see you tomorrow.”

He placed one last kiss on his son, unable to stop himself smiling at how the two of you had managed to make such the perfect little guy. As he stood back up, he gave you a little grin, waiting for you to say your own goodnights before he could take you to bed.

“Night night darling.” Just like they were on his dad a minute ago, his eyes were now transfixed on yours, reaching out to grab a strand of your hair. “We’re gonna have lots of fun tomorrow aren’t we, no terrorising, maybe we can even watch Peter Rabbit again for the fifteenth time this week.” You could hear Mason chuckling behind you, him being reminded of the million tantrums that had been had this week over the movie not being on twenty. four. seven. “Sweet dreams baby.”

Mason turned his light off as you walked to your room, finally getting into bed, sleep threatening to hit you immediately, and it would have done if it wasn’t for your husband stood in front of you taking off his clothes.

“Stop staring”

“I’m not staring”

“Yes you are. If you keep staring at me like that another him is gonna happen and I’m not sure I could survive that”

You chuckled at that, patting down on the empty space next to you, signalling for him to get in. Once he was left in only his boxers, he practically jumped on top of you, earning himself a playful smack on the back. His head laid on your boobs, his eyes staring up at you as his fingers found yours and linked them together.

“Thank you”

You weren’t entirely sure what he meant, and simply looked at him questioningly.

“I know works been crazy recently, and you’ve had to be with him on your own more than usual, and my god I do not know how you do it. Don’t get me wrong I love the little guy to death, but bloody hell he’s a piece of work!” he chuckles, his smile only getting wider when you mirror his reaction. “So just. Thank you.”

You shake your head at him, leaning down to kiss his own. “Don’t you worry about it you. Trust me, you’re more of a handful than he’s ever been”

“Hey!”

“What, at least he can go five minutes without needing a cuddle before throwing a tantrum”

“Oi! You love my cuddles”

“Hmmm” You shifted yourself down so your faces were level, and you could playfully rub your noses together. “I suppose I do.”

[angstyclowns]

RODYDEKU?! 👀👀 YOUR THOUGHTS ON RODYDEKU 👀👀👀👀👀👀 DONT BE SHY

RODYDEKU RODYDEKU RODYDEKY BIREOHO3O BESTIE CINNAMON APPLE-

(Poly!)Alpha! Rody Soul and Izuku Midoriya X Omega! Reader

These boys would treat you SO GOOD.

Period end of story.

First of all, I'm here for RODY appreciation. Just-

He is such a good alpha. Like, he's good with pups, evident with his siblings and he's so resourceful

While dates are always fancy, they're always memorable. Like stargazing all the time, going for late night walks with your scary dog privileges' boyfie, or hanging out at the park with his siblings playing in the back while you two sit on the monkey bars

You prolly with Rody first and then Midoriya comes by like 'Hey lmao I'm sus of killing twelve people. Prolly more.'

And you and Rody just have to >:( What-

Im assuming if you and Rody are together your prolly in a similar economic standing. So your prolly at work when he comes in with this piece of broccoli dressed like the bad section of a halloween store.

"Princess, dove, baby, sweet thing-" Rody starts and your already rubbing your temples, sighing heavily.

"Rody, alpha, baby, bird ass-" You return, tiredly running your hands down your face. "who is that."

"This is Deku."

And thus began this story.

Long distance is a little hard. But between you and Rody (and Endeavors phat cheques he sends for your help), you make it work with Izuku's hero schedule.

And when your adults and you and Rody make enough money to move to Japan it's so perfect. Roro and Lala get a proper schooling, you stay at home and do you own schoolwork, have a job if you want, but if you want to be a stay at home omega, they'll care for you!

Pilots make a lot of money, I think, and so does hero work! Your set bestie.

It takes a while for Izuku to fit into your guys' schedule and way of life, but when he does it's like he's always been there.

I like to think Izuku and Rody are the level headed ones and your the one who steps outside and chooses violence. When they go out they have one of those backpack leashes, but it's not even for Roro and Lala, who are so well behaved. It's for you.

They take turns taking you leash, keeping wrapped around the hand on your waist while the other takes the kids into whichever store caught their attention.

Izuku definitely takes the role of head alpha. He's naturally good at leading and keeping to a schedule, which is necessary for a pup's growth and development! :)

Rody is much better at ironing out the kinks. Improvising and figuring out solutions to problems no one could've predicted. What do you mean a careless lady threw her purse around hit Lala's ice cream out of her hand? He's holding it right here! Lala was holding onto his for him anyway.

Anyway when-- if-- you guys want pups these two are so ready. They are perfect for late night feedings, holding you up while you fed your pup, trying not to fall asleep. They're up changing and cuddling the pup whenever they call for it.

They are perfect alphas and the world is lucky to have them.

[sugarbooger513]

Nanny (Arataki Itto x reader)

I have been putting this fic off for so long. I must apologize to my best friend @katgalle for the absolute cockblock I have been over this fic. I'm very happy with how it turned out. Hope y'all enjoy.

WC: 4.2k

Warnings: Breeding kink, daddy kink, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), pet names, modern AU, single dad, mentions of divorce, tummy bulge, size kink, soft ending, Itto is so in love  

As soon as the sun rises, so do you. Your day starts early and it’s pretty rare that it ends before dusk. 

You stretch your arms above your head before jumping out of the inviting warmth of the bed in your boss’s house. Well… it’s also your house. 

You started working for Mr. Arataki around a year ago as a babysitter for his twins. He has always paid well and offered you the extra room last month so that he could hire you as a live-in nanny. 

It all works out well for you. You adore the cute little twins, and they seem to look towards you as a strong female role in their life. 

Not to mention that their father is quite the catch. Tall, strong, handsome, and even funny. 

He never gives you details on what happened with the twins’ mother. All you know is she is no longer in any of their lives. You can only assume it’s for good reason. 

As you finish adjusting your blouse, you can already hear the delighted squeals of the children from downstairs. Then, a loud roar booms. 

“I’m the big bad oni, here to steal your souls! Give them here!” 

The shrieks from the kids, paired with Mr. Arataki’s own laughter, makes your stomach do flips. 

He must hate how often he’s gone. There’s never a doubt in your mind that he loves his children. Even when he’s exhausted from work, he makes time to play with them, read them stories, or just cuddle on the couch. 

You decide that you should make your way downstairs before the little ones think you’re lost. 

Little Amelia, who has the same crimson eyes and snow white hair as her father, is the first to notice you. She wiggles away from her dad’s grip to greet you with a big hug. 

“Y/N! Dada said he has the day off today!” 

You scoop her up with a giggle. “Oh? That’s amazing! What does he have planned for today then?” 

Rylen tugs at the crimson horns on Mr. Arataki’s head, making his dad let out a playful ‘ouch!’ 

“We’re gonna go to the park with him! We totally have to show him the awesome fort you helped make!” 

“Well first,” you kiss Amelia’s cheek before walking over to place one on Rylen’s head, “I have to get some food into those tummies.” 

“Oh,” Mr. Arataki looks away from you, suddenly a bit bashful, “I fed them. I made you a plate, too. Just some pancakes and fruit. Not nearly as good as yours, but I thought you could use a bit of a break.” 

Your own cheeks warm at the sincerity of his words. “S-sir, surely you’re still tired from working so late last night. Please, don’t worry about me. But.. thank you. That was very sweet.” 

“Ah.. it was nothing. What would you like to drink?” 

“Sir, let me-” 

Suddenly, Rylen and Amelia speak at the same time. “Orange juice, no pulp.” 

Your eyebrow twitches slightly. “Snitches.” 

Mr. Arataki snorts his laughter, placing his son on the floor. “Ahhh, kids are just so helpful. One orange juice, zero pulp coming up. Rylen, can you and Amelia start getting ready to go while Y/N finishes her breakfast?” 

The twins nod, taking off towards their bedroom upstairs. 

“Mr. Ara-” 

“Itto, please. You talk to me as if we have a huge age gap… Well..” He suddenly blushes. 

You can’t help but giggle at his nervousness. “Ah, seven years isn’t much. Still, don’t you want to spend time alone with them, M- Itto?” 

You don’t catch the way he has to bite down on the inside of his cheek when you call him by his name so casually. 

“You’re crazy, right? You’re part of our family. They want you there just as much as I do.. I mean, I want you there just.. Shit. Take your orange juice from me.” 

You take the juice with shaky hands, gulping down the shocked yelp that almost erupted from you. 

He wants you to come with? Not just the kids? 

He rubs the back of his neck, gently pushing your pancakes towards you. “You mentioned you loved (favorite fruit), so I made sure to pick some up on my way home yesterday.” 

You mumble a soft ‘thank you’ before digging into the breakfast. The pancakes weren’t warm anymore, but they tasted pretty good. Pair it with the fruit and it was actually great. 

Once you finish and wash your plate, Itto grins. “Were they okay?” 

“They were great, sir. Thank you so much.” 

His cheeks dust pink, actually taken back from the compliment. “Oh.. I uh- you’re welcome. They were just.. From a box.” 

“Dada, Y/N, park time!” Rylen’s insistent voice makes both of you laugh. 

“Oops- it seems he gets that from me. Ready to go?” 

“Of course. Do you already have the car seats in your car?” 

He chuckles. “Bought extra ones just so we don’t have to constantly move them between our cars. Wanna buckle Amelia in while I handle our little loudmouth?” He ruffles Rylen’s snowy hair playfully. 

Your eyes widen slightly. He called Rylen.. Ours.. “Of course. Come on sweetie.” Amelia is more than happy to be scooped into your arms. 

Once you make it to Itto’s car, the two of you are quick to get the kids strapped in. Amelia grabs her stuffed monkey that always seems to be within her reach, while Rylen grabs a random rubiks cube that was on the floorboard. 

“Son,” Itto chuckles as he gets into the driver’s seat, “if you figure that out, tell me. You’ll be smarter than your old man.” 

Rylen lets out a laugh, carefully watching the way the cube colors switch as he plays with it. “Dad, I’m already smarter than you.” 

He did not just- 

Itto’s eyes shoot open wide as you cover your mouth to try and stifle the series of giggles. 

“Son, did you just roast me?!” 

When Rylen doesn’t answer, you do. “I think he did, Itto.” 

“Well, ouch, my pride.” 

Amelia’s small voice pipes in. “You have pride?” 

“Hey! I’m taking the two of you to the park and you wanna team up on me? What is this?!” 

The rest of the car ride is filled with laughter, despite the fact that the kids absolutely flame Itto. Still, it seems to make him very happy that all of you can play together like this. 

As soon as the kids are freed from the confines of their seatbelts, they make a break for the swings as if there are other kids here. News flash, there aren’t. 

“Twins, I swear. They really think I’m lame.” 

You reach out, gently placing one of your hands on his bicep. Your gentle touch makes him glance over at you. 

“No one thinks you’re lame, Itto. You’re just funny to pick on cause you get loud.” 

He playfully rolls his eyes. “Admitting you don’t find me lame, are we?” 

You tilt your head. “I’ve never found you lame, Itto. You’re a great person.” 

Itto chuckles, but it sounds fake. “Ya think so?” 

You’ve never seen him insecure, so the way his crimson eyes lose their arrogant gleam makes you worry. Does he really think bad of himself? 

“I know so. Don’t you?” 

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, obviously trying to find the words to say. “Well.. not to sound like some grandpa or anything, but one day you’ll find someone in this world you’ll love, see a future with, and their opinion alone will.. Well,” he lets out a sigh, eyes now focused on Rylen and Amelia swinging, “it’ll shape how you see yourself.” 

You can’t help but frown at the uncharacteristic seriousness in his voice. “Your.. ex wife found you lame?” 

He sighs softly, letting a fake smile appear on his face. “It doesn’t matter what she said. Not anymore. I’m over her because my family thinks I’m pretty alright.” 

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, chuckling as Rylen falls onto his butt when he tries to jump off the swing. He notices his dad watching him and waves, letting out small laughs of his own. 

“They really admire you, Itto. Every day I’m told that ‘dad is so cool’ or ‘dad is my hero’.” 

“I hope it never changes. I know one day it will, but a man can dream.” He finally meets your eyes, smiling softly. “And how about you?” 

You blink in confusion. “Me? What about me?” 

“Well, I did say my family finds me pretty alright. That includes the girl sleeping in my spare room.” 

Your face warms, making you look away from his sharp eyes. Damn, there’s no way he doesn’t notice at this point. 

And you’re right to think that. 

A sense of pride fills his chest when he notices the red creep its way onto the apples of your cheeks. You start to play with your own fingers, desperately trying to find your words. 

He finds it intoxicating. 

No matter how you see yourself, how you think your body looks, you're so small to him. He can easily pick you up, shove you against whatever surface is closest to him and- 

“Itto, I already said you’re great. Did you not hear me the first time?” Your soft reply snaps him out of his thoughts. 

“I did, I just wanted to hear it again.” 

The rest of the day is spent playing with Rylen and Amelia at the park. After that, Itto declared that ending the day with takeout sounded awesome, so that’s where you four had dinner. 

The twins really know how to tire both you and Itto out, but you can’t have imagined it being a better day. 

It really made you feel like the four of you were a happy little family of your own. Itto even gave you a few hugs, obviously ecstatic to have some time with everyone. 

Rylen yawns, snuggling into the crook of your neck while you rub his back. “I-I’m so sleepy..” 

You watch as Itto finishes buckling in Amelia. “I know, buddy. Let's get you home and in bed, okay?” 

He nods, squeaking when his dad takes him from your arms gently. “Sorry, kiddo, gotta buckle you in.” 

“I can do it, dada.” 

Itto smiles, albeit a bit sadly. “Let your old man do it for a bit longer, ‘kay?” 

As he buckles his son in, you walk around to get in the car. Itto isn’t long after you, smiling softly as he buckles himself up. 

“So, bed as soon as we get home?” 

The kids don’t answer with words, but with small snores. You can’t help but giggle when you look back and see them already asleep. 

“I think they agree.” 

“Me too. Y/N, are you gonna go to sleep too?” 

Truth be told, you were almost asleep on your feet during dinner. These kids have too much energy. For some reason, the words that come from your mouth don’t reflect your thoughts. 

“Eh, probably not. I’ll just read until I’m tired. Why?” 

He smiles, reaching his hand over to gently pat your leg. The sudden contact makes you jump slightly, but he doesn't seem to react to it. 

“I was thinking that we could spend some time together, just talking. Does that sound okay?” 

“O-of course, sir.” By the archons, you scream in your mind, just fucking touch me.  

As if reading your mind, his long fingers dance their way up your thigh, gently squeezing as they do. “Good girl..” 

You swallow hard, trying to control your breathing as he teases you, but it still comes out heavy and ragged. 

“Y/N,” his whisper is suddenly harsh, “tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable.” 

You want to scream no at him, beg him to continue, but the words are on the tip of your tongue and refuse to come out. Besides, the kids are sleeping in the backseat. You look behind the two of you at their slumped bodies, whimpering softly. 

“They.. not here..” 

He immediately moves his hand lower on your thigh, still caressing it with soft strokes of his thumb. 

“Does that mean you still want to do.. Anything?” 

You nod, placing one of your hands on his. “P-please? Just.. at home?” 

He grins, a boyish excitement taking over his features. Despite that, he lets go of your thigh to grab your hand and bring it to his lips, gently kissing each knuckle. “I can do that. Hell, I’ve already waited this long,” He pulls into the driveway, smirking at you, “what’s five more minutes?” 

With that, he hops out of the car, leaving you frozen in your seat. 

“Can you grab Rylen for me, Y/N?” 

“Y-yes sir! Of course!” 

You help him unload the half asleep kids, somehow barely managing to wake them in the process. Once inside, the two of you make your way upstairs, opening the twins’ shared room to place them in their beds. 

As always, you place a kiss on Rylen’s head before moving to Amelia, doing the same. Itto follows behind you, whispering to each child that he loves them. 

Once the two of you get to the door, you reach down to flick on their little snail night light before turning out the overhead. 

“Sweet dreams, babies. I’ll see you two in the morning.” 

The twins hum in response, but it’s only Amelia that speaks. 

“Night night, momma. Night night, dada.” 

Your eyes shoot open, but the feeling of Itto’s hand on your lower back quiets you. 

“Goodnight, my angels.” He shuts their door, gently leading you downstairs. “Did she offend you back there?” 

“N-no, of course not! I just wasn’t expecting that.” 

He chuckles softly, finally taking his hand from your back once the two of you make it downstairs. “I’m glad. Wait, I mean I’m glad she didn’t offend you, not that.. Ugh. Whatever, you know what I mean.” 

His awkwardness is suddenly back, causing him to rub the back of his neck, unable to look you in the eye. “About.. Earlier.. Are you still interested in.. ya know..” 

Your face warms again, making you gulp down your nerves. Why must he be hot and sensible? “I mean.. I-I have been for a while and.. I’d hate to miss out..” That came out way more awkward than you intended. 

However, your words seem to spark something in his gaze, making him look in your direction with a smirk. “A while? Why haven’t you mentioned it?” 

He expects an answer. You know he gets worried if anything goes unanswered for him. “Well… you’re my boss who was going through a rough divorce. That would be.. Very inappropriate. Besides, I worry that the kids would find it weird.” 

He chuckles, placing his thumb and forefinger on your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. The crimson hues are filled with what you can only describe as hunger. 

“Divorce is finalized.. I told you that when it happened. The kids love you, so what would they find weird?” 

You gulp at how gently his long nails run along your skin. His eyes follow what you can only imagine is a trail from them. His scarlet eyes find yours in a heated gaze, but he only stares at you. He doesn’t say anything else. 

He’s obviously waiting for you to speak. 

“I.. well I’ve been their Nanny for some time now and.. And people around here know that. Aren’t you worried how everyone else would-” 

Your rambling is cut off by Itto shoving you into the nearest wall and slamming his lips to yours. The kiss is full of teeth and tongue, neither of you caring about anything but being as close to each other as possible. 

His large hands slide under your ass, squeezing it harshly and lifting you as if you weigh nothing. You let out a squeak, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grins cockily at you. 

“Fuck what they think, I want you. Come on now, Y/N,” one hand comes up and suddenly wraps around your neck, “tell daddy you want to be his good little girl.” 

Your eyes roll back when he gently squeezes the sides of your neck, filling your head with a fuzzy feeling. “I-I wanna be daddy’s good girl.. Fucking christ, Itto please..” 

He lets out a short laugh before pulling off the wall, quickly walking into his room. “Please what, baby? What can I do for you?” 

He drops you onto his bed, smirking as your body bounces on the mattress. Your pupils are blown wide with lust as you watch him pull his shirt over his head. 

“T-touch me, daddy.. Please?” 

He wastes no more time pulling your pants down your legs. His eyes are instantly drawn to the dark spot staining your panties, making him groan. 

He falls to his knees in front of the bed, slowly pulling the drenched fabric down your legs. His eyes don’t leave your pussy for a second as he does it. He can see your essence already shimmering along your slit. 

“So fucking pretty, baby.. I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry.” He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your thighs as he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. 

“W-what are you doing?” He laughs softly at the question. 

“Me? I’m simply enjoying what’s mine. Now,” he places one of your legs on his shoulder, “try not to wake the kiddos, okay?” 

He lays his tongue flat against your pussy, slowly dragging it up to gather every bit of the tart liquid coating it already. You already start to wiggle, so he grabs your hip and holds you down easily with one hand. 

“Now, I can’t enjoy this if you’re squirming around.. Be a good girl and let daddy pleasure you.” 

You whimper, but give a slight nod. “Y-yes daddy.. Please do it more..” 

He smirks, gently blowing air on your neglected clit. “Of course baby.” 

His tongue is gentle when swirling the bud, but he eventually gets tired of being gentle and opts to start sucking on it. But Archons, you’re doing your best to behave and hold still for him. He can hear your whimpers and whines that you try so hard to hold in. 

You can feel a knot tightening in your abdomen. He gently grazes his teeth against the sensitive bundle, causing you to yelp louder than you meant to. His eyes instantly look up from between your legs, narrowed in a silent warning.  

When you feel two of his fingers circling your entrance you arch your back in anticipation. He takes that as a yes and easily slides them into you. 

The sudden stretch makes you whine loudly, now reaching down to grab at the crimson horns on his head. He growls feeling your hands wrap around them so tightly. 

“Oh fuck..” He ruts against the mattress before diving back between your legs, making loud slurping noises as he curls those fingers into the spongy spot that has you writhing in his iron grip. 

“Come on, I know you’re close.. Stop fighting it.” He forces a third finger inside of you, making you let out a choked sob. Pair the stretch with his long nails and you find yourself teetering closer and closer to the edge. 

“I-Itto I’m-” 

“Cum for me now, baby. Give it all to daddy..”

Your back arches from the force of your orgasm, the tightening around Itto’s fingers making him moan softly. 

He’s slow when pulling his fingers out of you. When the two of you meet eyes, he starts to slowly lick your fluids from each finger. “You taste amazing, Y/N. I could get used to that. Now,” he stands, already fumbling to get his pants off, “still want this?” 

You sit up, reaching to help him untie his sweatpants. Your smaller hands easily work the knot out and you shove them down his muscular legs. However, your jaw drops at the outline of the bulge in his underwear. 

“See something you like, baby?” His smug grin makes you blush darkly. 

“I-I.. Is it going to even fit?” 

He snorts a bit of laughter, now pulling off his last article of clothing. Your eyes shoot open wide when the head of his cock slaps his lower abdomen. He wraps his hand around it, slowly stroking it as he pushes you onto your back.  

“Either it goes in easily or I force it. Either way, it’s going to fit. That okay with you, little one?” 

You nod, still wide eyed as you feel the swollen head of his cock circle your much smaller entrance. His eyes soften once he starts to push in, scanning your face as you whimper and squirm. 

“Shhhh, you’re doing so well. Feeling full, sweetie?”

“A-Ahhh~ Yessss daddy..” 

Your head feels fuzzy from the overstimulation of his cock rubbing your gummy walls, which are still twitching from your previous orgasm. He lets out a low groan as you tighten even more around him. 

His eyes scan down your body to where the two of you are connected. He feels a little bad seeing how red and used your hole looks now, but the way you have to stretch to accommodate his size sends a shiver through him. 

“Oh fuck.. Give me your hand, little one.” 

You do as he says, confused as he slides your hand down your stomach. When he stops, you gasp at the feeling of a large bulge in your lower abdomen. 

“Like how deep it is? Feel me in your tummy, huh?” 

He tests the waters by slowly pulling out before slamming back into you. The moan you let out gives him all the confirmation he needs to start a brutal pace. 

You let out a squeal, much louder than you meant to, and it causes him to place his large hand over your mouth. 

“Don’t know how to listen, do ya?” 

His free hand goes to the bottom of your right thigh, gripping it harshly as he pushes it up towards your chest. Your eyes widen from the new angle, tears pricking at the corners. 

“So fucking small.. I could break you like nothing, you know that? But you want that, right? You just want daddy to fuck you stupid even at the expense of your innocence, huh?” 

You nod with every question, little squeaks and moans slipping past the cracks in his fingers. When his nails dig into your thigh, you let out a yelp that is barely contained by his hand. 

“Shhhhh, little one. Let daddy have his fun and breed your pathetic little cunt full, alright?” 

Your eyes roll in the back of your head at his filthy words, and they cause you to clamp down around his cock. He hisses as you do so. 

He finally takes his hand from your mouth and reaches between your bodies to sloppily roll your clit between his fingers with a devilish smirk. 

“Can’t fill you up until you cream all over me baby. Let it out for daddy..” 

You wiggle, squirm, thrash, do anything you can to almost avoid the onslaught of pleasure his fingers are bringing you. It feels like the coil in your stomach only tightens, so close to snapping but never quite giving in. Your mouth hangs open, drool now dripping down your face as you stare at him with large pleading eyes. 

He can’t help the small, loving smile that graces his handsome features. Your look is begging for him to feel the same pleasure you do. 

Even when you work around the house, he knows you have a thing for him praising you as you do. Of course sex is no different. 

He leans into you, gently kissing your swollen lips. “That’s my girl.. You’re doing so well for daddy, you know? Wanna feel you cum all over me. Can you do that for me? Please, Y/N?” 

Your hands fly up, wrapping around his broad shoulders to pull him as close as possible as the coil finally snaps. You let out a moan of his name so softly beside his ear. The sound makes his hips still. He growls, clenching his jaw hard as he finally releases deep inside of you. 

He holds his weight up with one arm, using the other to wrap around you as his hips twitch from the stimulation of staying inside of you. 

“G-good girl.. Taking me so well… f-fuck..” 

He turns his head towards you, capturing you in a kiss that leaves you dizzy. He spills all of the emotion he can into it. 

He’ll be damned if you ever believe you’re just a quick fuck. 

“Y/N, I want you to know that.. Y/N?” 

He chuckles to himself when he realizes that you’ve already fallen asleep. The sight makes his heart flutter as if he’s a child with a crush. 

I suppose we can always discuss a date in the morning. We have the rest of our lives to do it. 

Taglist: @katgalle, @kentosovertime, @roughwithfluff, @freeparadiseshit, @dreamyyholland, @sadpsychologist, @cherrytomato2, @Ravenina14 (Accounts in bold could not be tagged)

[sugawarassoulmate]

Kenma x attaboy!! 🍑 My baby boy Kenma with lactation kink too 🤧🥺 Want him begging and crying 😢

hahahha i made him a bit of a switch lol i couldn't help it 👉🏾👈🏾

words: 610

cw: fem!reader, dom!reader, switch!kenma, lactation kink, breast feeding, mentions of pregnancy/childbirth, mommy/daddy kink, restraints, minors dni

“more please,” he slurs, wishing he could reach up and touch you. he hated when you tied him up like this. he was a good boy, he could control himself. why couldn’t you trust him? he tries to get more of you, wants your body touching every part of him. “please, mommy, more…”

after you had given birth to your daughter, there were insecurities brewing in your head that kenma might not be as attracted to you anymore. you definitely felt unsexy in the months after childbirth, your body had changed in ways that made you self-conscious with your precious baby needing constant care, you didn’t put much effort into your appearance anymore.

but somehow your husband found you even more attractive to the point where he couldn’t keep his hands off you. when your breasts started ballooning up near the end of your pregnancy, they became kenma’s personal playthings—especially when you started producing breast milk.

in the weeks before kaho was born, you complained about how full your breasts were from all the milk you had. you didn’t want to start pumping before she was born but you constantly found yourself in tears from the pain.

enter kenma who, out of curiosity, wondered what your breast milk tasted like. so he latched onto your sore nipples and it turns out he couldn’t get enough of your sweet nectar. since then, he was ready to help whenever your tits became too heavy.

kaho was born a few weeks later and she’s a big drinker, always getting fussy when she hasn’t been fed in a while. kenma loved his little girl more than anything but now he’s finding himself having to compete with his daughter for some personal time with you. you would put her down for a nap and kenma would slither behind you, hoping to get some time under your shirt, but you were so worn out most days that you had to turn him down.

but kaho was with your mother this weekend which means your body belongs to kenma once again.

“do you think you deserve it?” you ask, grinding on his lap while he feebly tries to get his mouth on your soft mound. kenma mewls underneath you, breaking into a sweat because all he wants is to drink from you.

“i’ll be good,” he says, golden eyes welling up as if the tears are about to flow. you take pity on him, brushing the hair out of his face to bring your tits to his mouth. and like a moth to a flame, kenma attaches himself to you immediately, drinking from you as if his life depends on it. “thank you.” he grunts, milk spilling from his lips.

he treats you as if you’re his last meal, sucking and biting at your chest like he won’t get another chance. in the meantime, you’re rubbing your clothed cunt against him, knowing any second he’s going to burst. “gonna cum for me?” and kenma nods against your breasts, not wanting to tear himself away for even a second. it’s so cute. “cum for me, baby boy.”

kenma practically whimpers against your tits, humping into you like a dog before he cums in his pants. it doesn’t stop his lips from abusing your chest. you finally push him off, your essence falling from his mouth. even now, kenma doesn’t look completely satisfied even though your nipples are red and raw from his lips on them.

“you taste so fucking good, mommy,” he breathes, the submissiveness leaving his voice with every second. with hunger in his eyes, kenma fights against his restraints. “now untie daddy so he can fuck you.”

sugawarassoulmate 3k follower event

©sugawarassoulmate 2021 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[ev-pierce-writes]

Mister Knight

Pairing: Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.4k

Rating: 18+ (get outta here ya children)

Summary: Presumably post-fight Steven needs a little medical attention and a little love as well.

Warnings: oral (I mean....come on). p in v. this is very tame. so tame. sorry. primarily steven being in love with you so if you don't like love (who hurt you?) and you came here for other stuff... we get to it eventually.

AN: I am in love with Steven Grant. I would die for him. I imagine he is a little lost. Please, someone, teach this man how to kiss properly. Also, apologies for disappearing for a while. I happen to be a very stressed very busy very perfectionist aka procrastinating student. I am working on other things. Those other things being a novel and a PhD thesis proposal at the same time. This is my cry for help. Anyway, enjoy.

---

“Stop moving so much.”

Steven hisses in pain. “It hurts. You’re hurting me.”

“Well, you wouldn’t let me take you to a hospital, so this is what you get,” you reply, dabbing at the split across his nose with a cotton ball dipped in rubbing alcohol.

“No, Marc wouldn’t let you take us to a hospital. Don’t blame it on me.”

“This is the last one. Just sit still for one more moment.”

You smooth a plaster over the bridge of his nose as he looks up at your face from his chair. You’ve convinced him to sit long enough for you to stand over him and care for his wounds, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off your face for one moment, not even when they narrowed at the pain, his nose scrunching up at your touch. Like this, he looks diminutive; like this, you know he loves you, even if Marc has trouble saying so.

Steven says it with his whole body, not just his eyes. He’s always leaning toward you, unconsciously into your touch, nearly stumbling over his own feet or sliding right out of his chair. His smile is lopsided, a grin that widens when you laugh and catches your eye from across the room just to make sure you’re having a good time. Steven looks like Marc, and feels like him, mostly, but hunches his shoulders and wrings his hands when he’s nervous. You know he loves you because he lets you hold those hands that he seems so afraid of.

He lets you use those hands. In the shower, you guide his fingers between your legs and into the warmth of your cunt. In bed you grind against the heel of his hand or let them grope you in the dark, placing them on your chest and telling them with your own to squeeze.

Steven is shy. He’s nervous. He wants to touch you so badly it aches but he’s more afraid to do it wrong than he is excited to do it right. At first it was a game of teaching him what to do, now it’s a game of teasing the sensitive man until he’s so devoured by need it overcomes his fear of doing it improperly. You like Steven when he throws caution to the wind, when he loses all sense of correct and incorrect and does what makes him feel good.

But you can’t help but be gentle with the man. Dropping the last bloodied cotton ball on the table, you lift his chin with a finger and give the end of his nose a kiss. The hand of his that rests on his knee, that gripped it tightly through the pain, barely moves, just shifting enough so his fingers brush against the outside of the thigh you have placed between his. It’s absentminded but timid, the farthest his unconscious mind is willing to go without some encouragement.

“I should go,” you say. In reality, you have no reason to go. Tomorrow’s your day off work. The cat has been fed and she couldn’t care less about your presence or absence from the flat. But you want Steven to ask you to stay. You like when he hesitates until the last moment, battling his inner desire with his nervousness, until you’ve collected your purse and have your hand on the doorknob. Every time he makes some new excuse—"it's too late for you to take the bus” or “you’ve had a few drinks, you shouldn’t be walking home alone”—and every time you give in. You know before he asks that you’ll give in.

You don’t really pay attention to tonight’s excuse—something about a morning coffee—as you’re already shutting the door and dropping your purse to the ground again. At this point, you should just move in together, but Steven doesn’t have the guts to ask, and you’re too reluctant to give up this flirting game. You’re afraid the relationship will lose its magic if you do.

It’s a silly fear. If anything, it’ll give you more opportunities to tease him. Maybe it’s the finality of it that scares you most.

Steven lends you a t-shirt, a soft, salmon pink v-neck that was probably bought by Marc, and heads to the washroom while you change. It’s pointed. He’s still too shy to openly watch you get naked. The one time he walked in on you showering he’d apologized for a week.

But it’s the little things, you notice, that he likes best. When you nudge him aside at the sink so you can brush your teeth next to him (you even have a toothbrush at his place for God’s sake), his gaze drops to your breasts in the mirror, like he’s forgotten you can see him in the reflection staring at your nipples beneath the shirt. His methodical brushing slows when you lean against the sink, one hip cocked to the side, your underwear peeking out from beneath the hem, and bare legs crossing in an attempt at a casual manner. Steven does that absentminded thing with his fingers again, brushing them now, lightly, against your bare thigh in a moment of fascination.

Then he recovers his countenance and rushes from the washroom to lay in bed. Steven won’t sleep, at least not much, but you don’t mind. You can fill his restless nights with other things.

He’s fussing at a Rubik’s cube as you emerge from the washroom, solving it and then immediately spinning the faces around afterwards to jumble it all up again, eyes flitting between the colored dots and your figure. You once asked him to teach you how to do it, but it was a process you didn’t have the patience to learn.

“Come, get under the covers,” you say, tugging at the sheet until he wiggles awkwardly beneath it. But it’s enough to drag his attention away from the silly cube and onto you, curling up beside him. His fluttering touch is just a little braver in the dark, a little more solid, a little more roving. It starts on the back of your knee, drawing circles until his fingers meander between your thighs and press into the smooth skin they find there. Without knowing it, Steven has you soaking what was a clean pair of underwear. He doesn’t put any intention behind it, the way he didn’t intend to make contact with your skin while seated at the kitchen table or in front of the bathroom sink. He is only following the path his fingers like best, instinct and subconscious and a little bit of Marc as their guide.

This is how it starts, absentminded, leisurely, hesitant.

Steven’s fingers dance around your backside and across your stomach. You roll away, onto your back, and his body follows, mirroring, matching, leaning forward and over you. His touch chases his gaze, pointer finger dragging over the clothed nipple he gazed at through your reflection. It pebbles beneath his circling finger, and he watches, fascinated, like your body is a mystery to be explored, new each time he sees it. Every night together seems like the first with Steven. He is good, now—oh God, too good—but he hasn’t lost that first-time captivation. You let him explore, let him test and appraise and investigate the physiological changes that overcome you in response to his attention, the quickening heart rate, the shallow breath, the hooded eyes. Your gaze stays on his face, watching the watcher.

Steven takes his job seriously. He hasn’t even reached beneath your shirt—his shirt—to feel your bare skin, simply palms your breast through the soft fabric, squeezing, pinching between forefinger and thumb, rolling. He is archaeologist, discovering, uncovering; he is anthropologist, analyzing, studying. You shudder—it is too much and not enough all at the same time, overwhelming, excruciating, addicting, longing—and he shudders as well, breath stuttering in time with your heart.

“Steven,” you breath his name. He whispers yours in return. You drag him into a kiss because perhaps he can take it a bit longer, but you cannot. It’s still slow, one kiss after another with a pause for breath between each, but at least he understands your need. You realize that maybe he’s not the one overcome with teased out longing. It’s you.

You reach blindly in the moonlight of the flat’s narrow windows, find his hip, then the bulge in his thick sweatpants. You’re not so meandering as him, instead finding quickly the span of his cock and running your nails up the length of it. It twitches and he groans against your mouth.

“Yeah? Like that?” you nearly whimper, lips mere centimeters from his. “Want me to do it again?”

If his half-shut eyes are any indication, then yes, he does. But he manages a nod as well and you repeat the motion, down with your nails and back up again. Steven’s brain has shut down, propped up beside you on one elbow, fingers rolling at your nipple, forehead pressed to yours. You tug at the tie of his sweatpants, tugging it loose so you can slip your hand past the waist band.

“You want me to touch you, Steven?” you whisper, and he gulps out a yes, fuck yes with an uneven breath. His cock is thick and hot beneath your touch, the head swollen and sensitive. There is an ache between your thighs triggered by the remembrance of just how thick he is, an ache relieved only by him. It’s not a race to have him inside you but you wish it was. You smear a bead of precum down his shaft, taking care to learn every pulsing vein with the memory of your touch. Steven kisses you again as his hips jerk, bucking towards your hand in an involuntary movement to be even closer, to find friction.

You work him under his sweatpants. He works his way down your stomach back toward your thighs. You don’t even wait for him to get there, just spread your legs in anticipation. It hasn’t got the smooth confidence of practice, the way he drags the thin strip of lace to the side and finds your clit, but it is full of wonder and admiration, that touch. It finds the heat of your arousal and he glances down between kisses to take in the sight of his fingers gathering the sweet stickiness and dragging it through your folds.

Steven watches as his fingers sink into your cunt, his thumb pressed against your clit. Its slower than you want—need—to get off, but this is how Steven rolls. Marc is the fast one, the hard one, loving but always approaching a breaking point. Steven does not break. He is the calm, the reassurance, the steadiness.

He also doesn’t last long, and he drags his hips away from your hand because he can’t find the words to say he’d rather come between your thighs than in your hand. You don’t want to stop touching him. You like the reassuring weight of him in your palm. But Steven wants to taste you, devour you, and you can’t deny the poor man his dessert. That instinct comes into play, the same instinct that dragged his hand against your backside and made you slick with a simple touch. Marc doesn’t like to share details—when you’re his, you’re his alone—but this, this he did share, your sensitivity, your weakness.

The sheet has gone…somewhere. You’re not sure where. There’s a chill in the air that you feel most against your cunt, amplified by the stickiness of your arousal. It is pleasantly replaced by the heat of a flat tongue and sharp nose, the former dragging through your folds, the latter pressed against your clit. But it’s the hand on your stomach and the addition of two fingers sinking, curling, as he works your clit that warms you from the inside out. That’s the detail Marc shared, the trick that surprised you the first time Steven used it, that rolls your orgasm from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

Now it does feel like a race. Steven is dragging the aftershocks from your body—he likes when your back arches from the mattress involuntarily and your thighs twitch and squeeze his head—but now, for you, it’s urgent, that race to have his cock buried in your cunt. You push Steven’s sweats down with your feet at his hips and at last, he helps you, the head of his cock still flushed pink and glistening from your earlier attentions. You both scramble in the twisted sheet, finally tossing it to the floor along with the rest of your clothes. It’s stumbling, this urgency, awkward and unrehearsed. It’s never like this with Marc; he always knows what to do, how to do it, moving you into place and position. That’s nice, but this is nice too, the way you can’t move fast enough but the harder you try the harder it gets, your arms tangled in tugging off your shirt. When it's gone, Steven's face is pressed to your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin and asking for permission while you tug less than gently at his curls. Your hips jerk and your legs wrap around the backs of his with impatience, but he has to hear you say it.

"For Christ's sake Steven, fuck me with your cock or I'll suffocate you with my tits."

"Doesn't sound like a bad deal," he says but it works because he presses his cock into you smooth and fast before he comes at your words alone. You choke.

What was a rushed moment has suddenly come to a standstill. Steven sighs in relief when he sinks into you, the warmth of your cunt pulling him in. But you cannot breathe, though your lungs and your head and your heart burn with need. It is so right, it is all things perfect, being filled by him. That emptiness, which felt so urgent a moment ago, completed with a self-satisfied groan.

"You alright love?" he says, worried something's wrong like he always does.

And then your soul rushes back into your body and you practically beg him to move, beg him to fuck you because you need to be one with this fiercely gentle man.

"I got you," he says, barely pulling out. His eyes find yours as you pull him back in, your nails up his back and tugging at his hair. There’s a desperation in his voice as he whispers—to you, to himself—but he never loses his composure. Not like Marc does. Not like��

No. Steven is reverent.

“Look at you—” He stutters over his words. “Fuck—you’re pretty, love. I love—I love you.”

There's a knot in your belly, pulling tighter and tighter. And then the heal of one hand is back on your lower stomach, fingers brushing over your clit, and the knot unravels.

“I love you too.”

He smiles that lopsided smile and then kisses you as he comes, his lips and his body and his cock all impossibly hot on and around and inside you. His heat penetrates your skin and sinks into your bones and yet somehow you shiver. It’s probably the way he’s looking at you.

“Cold?”

You shake your head.

“Yeah, well I am,” Steven says and pulls the sheet back on the bed. Its mangled and doesn’t cover you properly but he’s so earnest about it you giggle. And then you wrap your legs around him and hold him there, trap his throbbing cock inside you because you can’t let go of the warmth just yet.

“Don’t go,” someone says. It could be you or him at this point because both of you are thinking it.

“I won’t.”

[yuzukult]

twenty-five (m) || kmg & reader

title: twenty-five (m) pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader/oc genre: fluff, smut, pregnant!oc, soon-to-be-dad!mingyu, marriage!au, established relationship!au wc: 3.5k summary: it’s mingyu’s birthday but you can’t exactly do what you’ve always done. warnings: smut scene. unprotected + pregnancy sex (i mean,,), oral (m. receiving)  a/n: .. i’ve decided i’ll post it before i end up changing my mind about putting this up so,,, enjoy. happy belated birthday mingyu,,,,... :|

You’re tempted to rip this entire closet apart.

Nothing fits—that signature black bodycon dress you wore in college to almost every event, that pretty white top that used to hug your tits so well, and those go-to trousers you’d wear to work that made your ass look perky—nothing fucking fits anymore. That dress can’t hold the capacity that is your stomach, your tits spill out of that white top (unflatteringly too), and how the fuck are you supposed to button your trousers when you’re in your second trimester looking like a whole ass balloon.

But Mingyu thinks otherwise.

He always thinks otherwise.

You should’ve planned ahead, but in honesty, with things happening at work and how shitty you’ve been feeling, the urge to plan something proper wasn’t in the cards. It’s his birthday today and the most you could do was whip up a nice steak dinner at home, get him a bottle of wine that he would indulge for himself and you, then that’s when a last minute thought came to mind that maybe you’ll wear something sexy for him to pull off later.

That is, if it could even fit.

When the fuck could you wear this little ass lingerie? The thong barely passes your thighs and the bra is exposed at the back because you can’t seem to latch it on. The embroidery is cute, to say the least, with black lace and sheer mesh, but when you’ve got a stomach so round that your breasts rest on it, you don’t really feel as cute as you’re supposed to in something like this.

What's with this tutu-like material that hangs over your stomach anyways? It’s supposed to end at your waist, instead stopping in the middle of your tummy with your belly button out.

Hand on the doorframe, you puff your cheeks. It’s exhausting just trying to get it on and it wasn’t even on correctly. This is the only thing that sort of fits because just from the looks of the other tops, they look like they’re straight from a porno with just nipple coverage. Then again, that’s the point, right? To seduce?

But would Mingyu even find you remotely sexy when you can barely even get any of this shit on?

Maybe you should just take this off and wear sweats. He probably wouldn’t want to fuck, but maybe you’ll suck him off or give him a handjob instead—who would want to fuck a pregnant woman?

“Uh, what are you doing?”

Freezing, your feet are rooted into the ground.

His footsteps come closer, his brows furrowed as he peaks into the closet to see your current stance. Back slightly bent, arm resting on the doorframe, your panties at your thighs and your bra unfastened. If anything, you feel zero ounces of sexy in this lingerie that’s supposed to give you confidence.

“Baby?” He calls out; the expression on his face slowly contorts into an adoring one, softening his features as a smile tugs on the edges of his lips. He’s got on a beige dress up shirt with the first few buttons undone with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was returning from some big client meeting for his company, coming home late despite it being his own birthday.

“Baby,” he reiterates, this time more lovingly and less saturated in concern. “What did I do in my past life that I deserve to see my pretty wife trying on lingerie for me on my special day?”

“I don’t know, did you murder someone?”

He chuckles, thick and sweet like honey, arms out to reach for you. “More like, I probably saved a whole village from a huge fire. Maybe I even fed and clothed them.”

You scoff. “I’m not sure if I agree with that. Have you seen me?”

Mingyu pulls you into his embrace, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Why do you act like we don’t have sex at least twice a week even when you’re in your sweatpants and hoodie with Cheeto stains on it?”

Flustered, you hide your face into the firmness of his chest. You hated when he got all cheesy like this—which would be all the goddamn fucking time, especially in moments like these when you’re left unsure on how to reply.

“Okay, but everyone has needs and has to get off.”

“I mean, I don’t think I have to fuck to survive, but I do if my wife looks good walking around the house like that.”

Shoving away from him, you give Mingyu a side-eye glare. “I was supposed to try seducing you in this lingerie set but it dawned on me that I should’ve prepared earlier since I can’t wear anything I used to wear.” With a sigh, you reach over to push him out to shut the closet door but Mingyu doesn’t allow that with his hand pressed against the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Changing back into my sweatsuit, duh. What else?”

He blinks blankly. “I don’t care that it doesn’t fit, I’m gonna take it off anyway. Not fitting only means the first step was done for me.”

Rolling your eyes, you shuffle to take off the black lace thong that gets sucked up by your ass instead of complimenting it. “You can just say I’m round and ugly now, I won’t be hurt. My stomach is rounder than those fucking yoga balls.”

Mingyu sighs, tugging on your arm to get you to face him. “Okay, I get it. But I’d never lie to you—one, because I’m slightly afraid of what you’re capable of and two, because I love you. I think you’re beautiful, and yes, your stomach is as big as a yoga ball—”

You shoot a glare.

“—but you’re carrying the product of our love. Our baby. Halfsies on the genes. I’ll always think you’re pretty, and I’ll always love you. You’re also giving up a lot right now, and the fact that you’re still thinking of getting me off when your feet are sore and swollen, when you’re tired from a long day of work—I don’t deserve that.”

Pulling your lips into a straight line, you remain silent for a second.

With Mingyu, even when you’re practically an oompa loompa and could be rolled out of the house, he’d still ask if he could bend you over and fuck you into tomorrow. He’s so blinded by his love for you that you wondered what he drank growing up that made him his way, but seeing as how his parents are, it makes sense.

You’re insecure, and you have every right to be. Your body is changing drastically, you can’t even wear the clothes you used to, and you can’t even reach your toes that well anymore.

But maybe you’ll save all of the worries for another day. Mingyu cherishes and loves you every other day, kissing all the parts of you that you’ve begun to hate—today, you’ll show him how you love him.

“There’s a candlelit dinner downstairs for us,” you say, moving toward him. “Are you hungry yet?”

He swallows when you’re close and the quick shift in your demeanor; arms sliding to rest on his shoulders, your fingers lock behind his neck. “For you, yeah. For dinner, I could wait.”

It doesn’t take long for him to read that look in your eyes because he’s scrambling to take off his shirt. Although it’s snug in all the right places, you admit that him without it is a better sight.

“Take this off,” you command boldly in attempts to push away the heat that creeps up to your cheeks. Hand tugging on the belt loops of his pants, Mingyu quirks a brow at you. “So I can give you your gift.”

Unbuckling his belt, it clangs with each movement. “You sure, baby? We could just get right to it, I don’t need anything special today. Wanna make sure you feel good.”

Hand on his shoulder to regain your balance, you slip out of your panties. “Can you shut up?”

He chuckles. “What’s wrong with a husband wanting to make the love of his life feel good?”

“You’re too sappy,” you shoot back, stuffing your balled thong into his mouth playfully that earns a hearty laugh from his chest. He tosses it to the side, hands at your waist with a cheeky grin. “I’m gonna suck you off.”

His cheeks tint pink. “I—You don’t need to, baby. Your knees are gonna ache.”

For a pregnant woman, you sure are fast.

You’re on your knees before he could stop you, tugging on the hem of his briefs that slide off with ease and his raging boner peeks out. Head red and angry, the tip is leaking with pre-cum, and the thought of him being this turned on just from the sight of you sort of… warms you a bit. He means what he says, and when you look up at him to catch a view, he rests the back of his head against the doorframe with his breath held and his eyes clenched shut.

You pull his cock out, your palms curving to the shape with an innocent look in your irises. “What’s wrong?”

“If I look at you, I might cum too fast.”

Rolling your eyes, you ignore his statement before leaning in with your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. He stiffens, your palms at the base as you ease the rest of his length into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he says breathily, fingers lacing through his locks. He can’t help himself; you’re so pretty even when the lights in the closet are dim and in need of replacing. He doesn’t curse often, but when he does, it means he’s overflowing with emotion and quite frankly, having the entirety of his dick in his wife’s mouth will do that to him.

Mingyu can’t get over how lucky he is. He’s got you, pregnant with his baby, glowing even on the days you feel the worst, and when you’ve got such a busy work schedule, you always make time for him.

His hips buck into your mouth when you hollow your cheeks, a groan caught in his throat. Lips parted, he gets lost in the warmth, abs flexing when your tongue flicks over the slit. Where did you learn how to suck dick like that? And did you suck anyone else off like this?

Fuck, he curses mentally, getting a little pissed at himself for even thinking of that when the most gorgeous girl in his life is giving him a blowjob.

He can’t help himself though. But he reminds himself who got you pregnant, and the night he swears was the cause of it because your pussy was leaking with your juices mixed with his cum. The sheets were drenched; he recalled the way you got all flustered, covering your face with your hands, but the sight of you was so attractive that he found himself craving for that again.

That’s when you look at him through those alluring curled lashes, how they brush against the highs of your cheeks, hair messy and eyes glassy.

“Get up.”

Pulling away, a pout dresses upon your lips and a breath hitches in his throat. How are you so cute when there’s a string of saliva connecting your mouth and his cock? “What’s wrong? You didn’t cum yet.”

“I know,” he says breathily. “As much as I wanna see my cum in your mouth, it’s my birthday and I have other plans.”

It doesn’t take long, but somehow your night that was supposed to be dedicated to the birthday boy somehow changed the objective to being about you. In all fairness, you should’ve suspected it anyway because this is Kim Mingyu you’re talking about here—he’s your husband, but he’s beyond that. He talks about you like he’s putting you on a pedestal; to him, you’re the sunshine to his gloomy days. You’re the reason for the smile on his face, and the ‘why’ to the laughs that escape from him so easily.

But he doesn’t understand that he is that for everyone else.

He never fails to put other people before himself, and you don’t know what you’ve done in your past life to be loved in the way he loves. Peppering kisses from your jaw down to your neck, he’s got your wrists restrained against the bed, his hands as nature’s handcuffs because his strength is equivalent to a pair. Although doused in his cologne, on a normal day with your queasy hormones, you’d complain about the forty squirts he sprays on himself, but when he’s got his dick out and between your legs, you’re intoxicated by the scent.

“Mingyu,” you gasp when he sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear. Your chest heaves up and down, tugging to leave his grasp. “Let go.”

He does as he’s asked, sitting back in fear that he was too aggressive. Fronts of his brows dipped in confusion, he watches as you struggle up, reaching over to help you—only for you to shove him back down onto the mattress with a plop. A smile tugs on the corners of his lips. “Oh?”

“I’ll top.”

Mingyu chuckles, his pearly white teeth peeking through, head thrown back in delight. “Baby, no offense but you’re pregnant. Your thighs will get tired.”

“I’ll grind on you,” you state firmly, and although he knows you’re more of a pillow princess than anything, he does as he’s told by his wife. Sitting up against the headboard, he pulls his briefs off completely and tosses them elsewhere in your bedroom.

Mingyu pats his thighs in amusement. “Alright then, baby. Sit on me and show me what you got.”

You don’t feel sexy.

Even when Mingyu is looking up at you, eyes twinkling in nothing but infatuation, he sees nobody else but you yet you still don’t feel like the old version of yourself. You don’t fit in those skimpy outfits anymore—yes, the ones that would be too short that you found yourself adjusting the hem every five seconds, but you still felt like a hot bitch in it.

Now? You’ve shoving off that stupid bra from earlier because you can’t get it to fucking stay on.

And it’s like Mingyu reads your mind because he licks his lips, hands guiding you to hover his hardened cock and says, “God, you’re so hot.”

Okay. That makes you feel a little bit better.

The insecurity doesn’t go away with pregnancy, it adds onto it. Watching yourself get bigger is both a blessing and a curse—you desperately miss the you that didn’t have a problem zipping up jeans, your favorite jeans for that matter, but Mingyu insists that you’re still gorgeous the way you are, and you’re even more admirable for carrying the “product of love” for nine months.

Palms pressed down against his chest, you swallow. “I’m heavy,” you warn him, even though with the amount of working out he’s been doing, you know he could handle more than your current weight. With a deep breath, you line yourself up with him before sliding down onto his length and Mingyu lets out a deep groan at the sensation. He fills you up wholly and fogs up your head.

“Fuck, how are you so wet and I haven’t even touched you yet?”

You chew down on your bottom lip bashfully. Pregnancy has done more than made you a ball and surprised you with how much food you’re able to inhale—you’re horny almost all hours of the day. Just watching Mingyu change the other day made you go off the rails.

Leaning back, your hands rest on his thighs behind you. This is the most comfortable position, you think, but Mingyu seems to be too busy gawking at the sight of you like this. “Did I tell you how pretty you look?”

“Always,” you roll your eyes, slowly gyrating your hips. He can’t get his stare off your pussy engulfing him, warm and wet, squelching with each movement that would normally embarrass you. But the soft grunts that escape from him is assuring you that you’re giving the birthday boy what he wants. “Your pretty girl.”

A moan releases from him, hand trailing to squeeze your breast and the other on your waist. It’s so tempting to raise his hips and ram into your wetness, but he also enjoys the pace you’re going—sweet and slow, sinking in this moment with just the two of you. You’re his pretty girl, and your hooded gaze, parted lips, and soft gasps had him inebriated.

Admittingly, you should’ve known your fatigue would hit soon. Most of the time, Mingyu would take the reigns from the beginning and it would be fine, but when you’re on top, the weight of your stomach tends to make you more lethargic, languidly swirling your hips instead of the speed you know he preferred.

Mingyu bends forward when he notices the shift, lips latching onto your nipple as his tongue twirls around the nub. His arms wrap around your frame, pulling you closer with his grip now cupping the meat of your ass, and before you know it, your head is thrown back as his hips move in tandem. The headboard thumps against the wall behind the bed, but Mingyu pays no mind.

He feels so good like this, close and hot, his heated breath against your skin. But part of you wants more—the ravenous side of your pregnancy taking over, groping his arms, and chest before dragging him closer and with all your strength, you topple the two of you over.

Confused with your sudden actions, he gazes at you with concern. Thumb rubbing against his cheeks, you push away the damp strands of hair that stick to his forehead.

With a low, quiet voice, you whisper in his ear.

“Fuck me. Please?”

He’s fast—he’s already got you back flat against the bedsheets, mesmerized by your hair sprawled over the sheets. Mingyu snaps back into reality because he’s got the prettiest girl laid out in front of him patiently, and he doesn’t want you waiting any longer.

Legs up, he takes consideration of how far you can actually go and eases the tip of his cock into your swollen folds. With a slow push, he holds his breath the entire time until he reaches to the hilt, flexing his arms on either side of your frame and you don’t hesitate to have your fingers digging into the flesh.

Buried in you, you feel yourself turn into putty in the palms of Kim Mingyu. He moves hard and deep, learning from all those times you’ve had sex while pregnant that you’re not that delicate, his thrusts are hard enough that the bed continues to hit against the wall and the sound of your skin slapping perks your ears.

The sounds between you two are so lewd—you get so wet now ever since you’ve gotten pregnant (not that he’s complaining), his dick coated and glistening with each drag, and it only tightens his stomach at the view. It’s hard to hold back the whimpers and moans when his cock throbbing inside of you and his dark gaze.

Your tits bounce with every crash of his hips into yours, at this point you don’t put any effort into holding back the moans as you clench yourself around him. Already sensitive, Mingyu can’t help himself when he sees your perky nipples, bending forward to suck on them once more in unison with his cock slamming into your heat. He slides a hand in between you, thumb flicking against the nub when he notices the way your body stiffens. With a gasp, your hands grip onto his wavy locks as he grunts, vibrating against you as your high hits.

He plants gentle kisses against your flushed skin, finally reaching your supple lips with a peck. Forehead pressed to yours, he lifts your waist up just enough before he rams into you, thrusts sloppy with his mouth gaped open as pretty moans depart. Ropes of cum coat your walls, the flashback of that one time comes to mind and he’s quick to pull out and lifts your legs up just barely.

Hair messy, you’re still catching your breath when you notice the way he looks at you with hungry eyes down below. “What?”

He can’t help himself. Scooping the cum that spills from your folds, he shoves it back into you as you let out a whimper. “Keep it inside for me, baby?”

But before you could respond, he gazes up at you with those puppy eyes that sparkle underneath the moonlight that shines through your window.

“For my birthday?”

Rolling your eyes, you pull him close as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “Fine, fine. Happy birthday. This is your gift.”

“Mm,” he hums, sneaking another kiss against the side of your neck. “Best birthday ever. Love you.”

You flick the side of his head. “Love you, too.”

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Caught Red Handed

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: After Nate ratted Fezco and his girlfriend out to the feds, their house gets raided. Fez, Ash and the reader all have to work together to get all of the drugs out of the house, all while maintaining their innocence.

Warnings: Swearing, drugs use and mentions of drugs, violence. Nate Jacobs is a warning in himself lol.

A/n: This was another request that I thought was super super cool. There's so many ways this could've gone and though this one isn't the most realistic, I think it's cool.

We had never been in deep shit like we are now.

Dealing drugs, working in that business, has always been a toss up. Our safety was never guaranteed and neither was tomorrow. We did a dangerous thing but we made a lot of money doing it. I would say that the pros outweighed the cons most of the time.

But not now.

Fez had told me about the interaction between him and Nate at the shop the other day. He told me how much Nate had been bothering Rue and her other friends, Fez becoming protective over the young girl. I didn't blame him for giving Nate a gentle verbal push, telling him politely to fuck off. Fez was nothing but polite in the beginning but once you kept pushing, he flipped.

I was expecting Nate to do something, preparing myself all the time for the other shoe to drop. Apparently, Nate giving the police an anonymous tip that we were selling drugs was Fez's karma for his threats.

Ashtray was the first to hear the sirens, seeing the police officers line up outside both doors. He watched through the cameras for ten minutes as they just stood there, not knocking, not saying anything. Just waiting. That time gave us a head start to start flushing shit.

My heart throbbed in my chest at the sight of the pills being flushed. This was a lot of money but the thing that was even worse was the fact that they weren't our drugs. They were Mouse's which meant Fez was going to have to kindly explain this to him and we would potentially be in very dangerous, deep shit.

"Fucking dump faster!" Ash squeals, my hands shoving him away from the toilet as I send him a glare. We could hear the police officers yell outside, banging on both doors at either end of the apartment.

"I'm trying my fucking best!" I yell, my hands shaking as I try to open the containers in my lap.

"Ash, go watch the fucking cameras and give us space." Fez orders, the boy turning without another word, leaving my boyfriend and I alone. "This isn't good, I dunno how we're gonna fucking explain this." He mutters, unscrewing the caps and dumping another bottle of pills into the toilet.

"We'll figure it out." I mutter, my chest heaving in anxiety as I dump the last bottle into the toilet.

"Mouse is gonna want you- I fucking know it." He grits, his eyes flickering up to me as he sighs, watching me as I gather the pill bottles. He goes to speak again but I shake my head at him.

"We'll fucking figure it out, Fezco. Right now, we have to deal with the ten police officers outside our door." I hiss, his eyes rolling in frustration as he stands, leaving me to deal with the bottles. I flush the toilet, watching as the pills spin in the water, my fists clenching.

Averting my gaze, I open the window, tossing the bag of empty bottles to the grass. I see the reflection of the red and blue lights in the night, the lights reflecting off of the glass of the neighbors window.

I hear Fez, Ash and the police officers talking outside the bathroom door, my heart pounding at the calmness of it. They have to, it's their job and I get that they got an anonymous tip, it was important that they follow through and find out all they can. I knew that once they saw his grandma in the bed, lifeless and quiet, that they would leave out of respect.

When I hear the front door shut twenty minutes later, I slip quietly out of the bathroom. There was no sign of police officers, Fez and Ash standing in the kitchen sighing breathlessly. Fez looks over at me, apologetically sighing as he steps up to me. He takes me into his arms as I cling to him, just happy that the stressful experience was over.

"Whatever happens, I'm not gonna let nothing happen to you." He whispers, my hand gently rubbing the back of his head as he sighs quietly. "I'm sorry that I got angry." He mutters but I just shake my head.

"It's alright, baby. We'll figure it out." I pull away from him, turning to Ash who stands anxiously beside us. "Come here." Grabbing onto his shoulder, I pull him into a silent hug as he deflates in relief. "Sorry I yelled, kid. I know you get it." I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He just gives me a simple nod, a small smile on Fez's lips as he rubs Ash's back. We both know that the stressful event impacts Ash way more than he leads on.

"If Mouse comes up in here and says anythin' to you, I'll kill him." Ash whispers to me, my heart melting at the heartfelt testament. He continues to cling to me, letting himself have just one moment of fear and anxiety, despite the normal hardass impression that he gives off. Fez nods knowingly with a scoff, patting the back of Ash's head.

"We know, man."

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

Taglist: @jamespotterswifey @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @letmebeyoureuphoria @rafecameronswhore @4lyssasworld @write-from-the-heart @ariianelle @vampviolets

Euphoria Taglist: @usernamelol @ssprayberrythings @pessimisticbiitch @urmomsangel

Fezco Taglist: @squishiejiminiee @fudgemesteveharrington @hi-my-name-is-riley @trinbby13

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Take You Away || Bucky

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You and Bucky are friends from work. You are a chef at the Avengers Compound and you see him every day but after a while he becomes suspicious of your home life and sets out to save from the abuse you receive. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, domestic violence (abusive boyfriend, mentions of an abusive father), injuries, fluff, WC: 4451

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || part one || part two

The end of your pen was a sharp mess of twisted plastic by the time you had finished chewing on it. The added responsibility of stock taking the kitchen was adding more pressure to your already busy day and you still needed to get the food order sent for the menu next week. The head chef was on leave and thought you had been there long enough that you could handle it on your own, you had thought so too.

Banana blueberry muffins. You still had to make them and breakfast would open in less than an hour. Rushing out of the storeroom you crashed into a wall of muscle that you hadn’t expected to find in the galley. Your face hit his shoulder and you groaned as the metal hit your already sore cheekbone. His face blanched as he heard your whimper and his arms gently caught your shoulders as he apologised profusely for hurting you.

“It’s fine, Bucky.” You said with a small smile, trying not to rub away the makeup on your face. “I’m more surprised than anything. Were you looking for something I could help with?”

He blinked as if he forgot what he was there for before nodding. “Coffee, please, I’ve run out.”

You turned around and ducked back into the storeroom to grab a packet of instant coffee that was used on each individual floor's kitchenette. Bucky always seemed to go through more than anyone else and it was probably to do with how early he rose each day. You grabbed two just to save him the trip down to the cafeteria later in the week and handed them over with a smile.

“Oh shit.” He gasped as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes widened with panic as he saw the bruise under your foundation and you brushed his touch aside. You turned away so you had space to breathe and waved his apology off the best you could. “It’s fine, nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not fine, I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, I just bruise easily.” Your eyes misted at the guilt lacing his voice and you wanted to admit the truth so he didn’t feel bad but you couldn’t. “I’m really busy this morning, was there anything else I could get you, Bucky?”

He shook his head sadly and retreated from the kitchen, a dark cloud hanging over him as he left. You felt terrible that you had caused it and you wiped your eyes before composing yourself, you had got yourself through a lot worse by pretending you were fine and you could do it once again. By the time the muffins were ready you had almost forgotten the event completely and the cafeteria opened for everyone at the compound.

Laughter and smiles filled the tables but there was one noticeable absence that you knew you were responsible for. Handing control over to the chef de partie, you tossed your apron over your hook and filled a plate of food before leaving the kitchen. The gym was almost empty since everyone was at breakfast but there was one man at the back, taking his anger out on a punching bag. You knew he heard the door close from the way he froze before continuing the assault.

“I, um, thought you might be hungry.” You murmured as you held out the plate to him.

“I already ate.” He grumbled between punches.

“No, you didn’t.” You said as you took a seat on a bench and placed the plate beside you. “I just got the order forms from your floor, you haven’t used anything from the kitchen. Just coffee.”

He sighed and dropped his hands to his sides, sweat glistening across his forehead. “You’re not going to leave until I eat are you.”

“It’s literally my job to make sure you are well fed.” You shrugged and pushed the plate closer to him. “It’s your favourite. You don’t want me to get fired do you?”

It was a low blow since he was already feeling guilty but he knew you wouldn’t get fired over something trivial like that, at least you hoped he did. His strides were slow as he grabbed a towel and wiped away his sweat before sitting down, looking at the plate piled high with food.

“How do you know it’s my favourite?” He asked as he picked up the muffin.

“It’s the only flavour you grab two of.” You smiled before your phoned rang in your pocket and your face fell, the personalised tone letting you know exactly who it was calling. “I should get going.”

“Everything alright?” He frowned at the change in your mood and you mentally slapped yourself for letting anything show.

“Just the usual stress and chaos in the kitchen.” You joked and rose to make your way to the door.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m pretty good at listening.” Bucky offered with a shrug.

“Thanks, Buck, I’ll keep that in mind.” You said before the phone rang again and you rushed to make it back to the kitchen.

Your shift had ended five minutes ago and your boyfriend was impatient at the best of times so keeping him waiting was not a smart move. You hurried your way through the kitchen that was being cleaned down and ready for the lunch team to begin preparing their meal. You waved to a few of the chefs on the way to grab your bag and reminded them you would be back for the dinner shift later. The split shifts weren’t ideal but until the head chef returned you would just make do.

“I’ve been waiting fucking 20 minutes.” Justin growled as you got in the passenger side.

It hadn’t been 20 minutes but you were not going to correct him as he started the engine and pulled out of the compound way too fast. “Sorry.”

“I’ve got the boys coming over for the game tonight. You can make it up to me by cooking us something good.”

“I’m working tonight.” You reminded him weakly.

“Does it look like I give a fuck?” He said, looking away from the road to stare at you. “Figure it out.”

“Alright.” You dropped your head to the cold window beside your head, trying to get a few minutes of rest before you got home.

You were completely exhausted as you reached the kitchen. You had planned on resting between shifts but instead you had made a feast for Justin and his friends and prayed he followed the reheating instructions you left. Stifling another yawn at being awake for 13 hours already, you hung up your bag and grabbed your apron, four more and you could go home to bed.

There was nothing you wanted more than to rest your sore feet but as you left the compound you found the car park dark and empty. You should have known he would have forgotten to pick you up, in fact he was probably drunk so it was best he didn’t drive. Gripping your bag closer to your side, you started making your way to the security gate only to see a pair of headlights illuminate the night.

“Y/n, hope in.” Bucky ordered as he pulled up beside you with his window down. “And don’t even try to argue, I’m not letting you walk home in the middle of the night.”

You looked at the gate that was still so far away and you knew there was no way you could decline his offer. With a small smile you walked around the car and he pushed the door open for you to climb in. The ride was quiet but it was the nice type of quiet, something you rarely got to have and you almost fell asleep it was so peaceful.

“It’s just up here on the left.” You said quietly, embarrassed about him seeing the rundown trailer that you called home.

He came to a stop outside one of the nicer homes on the street and you grabbed your bag from the floor. “Thank you for the ride, Bucky, I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, any time.” He smiled sincerely before seeing a group of men stumble down the footpath, angry shouts about the losing team they had supported. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary.” You assured him but he wasn’t having it and the car was already turned off. Placing your hand on his arm, you turned your eyes to his and hoped he saw your silent pleas. “It’s not necessary, Bucky.”

His lip was pinched between his teeth and he waited until the men had gone past the car before he nodded begrudgingly. “Ok, but give me your phone.”

You handed it over, knowing how stubborn the man was, and he messaged himself before giving it back. “Text me when you’re safe inside.”

You thanked him once again as you got out and walked quietly up the porch steps with a wave. Your sigh of relief was heavy as you watched his car disappear around the corner and you sent a message to him as you walked down the street to your home, his reply coming back almost instantly.

Bucky: Anytime you need a ride just let me know.

You left his message on read as you unlocked the door and heard the loud snores of Justin asleep on the couch with empty beer cans scattered over the coffee table. Even though you could barely keep your eyes open you knew he would be angry if he woke up to the mess so you quietly collected the rubbish and cleaned the sink full of dirty plates. You didn’t even take the time to wash the smell of cooking from your skin before you went to bed and instantly fell asleep.

A sharp slap to your cheek woke you with a cry of pain and you found Justin towering over you with your phone in his hand, Bucky’s message on the screen. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Your cheek was burning and tears were stinging your eyes as you shook your head rapidly. “Just someone from work, they dropped me off because you didn’t pick me up.”

“Don’t put this on me.” He spat. “Are you fucking him? You are, aren’t you?”

The back of his hand struck out but you managed to protect your face from the hit, the big cheap ring on his finger cutting across your forearm instead. Your scream was muffled by the squeeze of his hand over your mouth and you whimpered until he let you go.

“I’m not, baby, I would never cheat on you. I just couldn’t walk all the way home.” You pleaded for him to listen as his hands trembled and carefully reached out to take his hands in yours. You could see his eyes were bloodshot and the stench of stale beer turned your stomach but you had to calm him down, any way possible. Pulling him into the bed with you, you turned your face away from the sloppy kisses and apologies he whispered against your skin, letting him have his way until he collapsed back to sleep on his side. You slipped from the bed as his snores filled the room and showered away his touch.

The bruise on your cheek was almost gone but now you had the angry cut on your forearm that you needed to clean and cover before it got infected. The rubbing alcohol stung and you bit your lip to avoid crying out and possibly waking Justin, the whimpers bouncing off the tiny stall that could barely fit the shower and toilet. It was still dark outside and you thought about taking the car but if Justin woke before you got back from the breakfast shift you knew you would pay dearly for it, and you didn't have a licence, so you put on a pair of sneakers and began the long walk to the compound.

You covered your elbow over your mouth as you hid another yawn and found Bucky’s eyes narrowing in on the bandage covering your forearm. “What happened?”

Your exhaustion was making you more susceptible to tears and you worked hard to be nonchalant as you laughed it off. “I burnt it when I was getting the muffins out of the oven.”

“I didn’t see you getting dropped off this morning.”

You shrugged off his concern and busied yourself topping up the bacon that was always a favourite. “I didn’t realise you were keeping such a close eye on me.”

“You’re my friend, and I don’t really sleep so I keep watch of who comes and goes.” He said defensively, as if you had shouted to the entire cafeteria that he was a stalker.

“I appreciate the concern, but I chose to walk this morning.” You lied smoothly, or at least thought you did. These were trained professionals who regularly interrogated people for their job but you had been lying to yourself for years. He still looked concerned but added the fresh bacon to his plate and chewed on a strip of the crispy protein as he watched you walk away.

Fear consumed you as you stepped over the threshold and saw Justin waiting, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest. You had tried to dissuade Bucky from giving you a ride home when Justin failed to show but it was raining and he would not leave it be. Your shadow was cast against the wall as Bucky reversed out of your drive, and you were already feeling ill that he had seen where you really lived.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not much to look at.” You had whispered quietly when you had shown where you lived and not the house he had previously dropped you off.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, doll. I grew up in a shoebox and had to share a room with my little sister until I was 20.” He reassured you, your heart hammering at the casual endearment that shouldn't have affected you as much as it did.

Your shadow disappeared and all you were left with was the looming mass of Justin stepping closer, your body seeming to shrink as he leant past you and closed the door. The smell of cigarettes and weed clung to his clothes while whiskey tainted his breath and you wished you could run back out into the rain and beg Bucky to stop. You didn’t even feel the first hit or the second, there was a place you had created deep in your mind and that was where you went on nights like this.

The cold water of the shower ran over your face and hid the tears that stung your cuts as you sat on the floor beneath the spray. There was nothing more you wanted to do than walk out of this shower, walk out of this trailer and out of Justin’s life but he controlled everything. You couldn’t even go to the shops without his permission, you didn’t even have your own bank cards, he controlled your life.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he banged loudly against the door and you shut the water off quickly. There was no way you could go to work looking like you did and you turned away from the foggy mirror to slink into the bedroom and find some loose clothing. You only had one objective and that was to avoid any confrontation and let your wounds heal. You searched for your phone to call in sick but you couldn’t find it anywhere.

“Jus, have you seen my phone?” You asked as you limped to the living room and found him scrolling through your device.

“Why? So you can message Bucky?” He growled.

“I need to tell work I won’t be in.”

You kept your eyes trained on the floor and for a second he held the phone out but before you could wrap your fingers around it he dropped it to the floor, the screen shattering on impact. “Oops.”

You swiped it off the ground and hurried back to the bedroom, hoping it still worked but the screen was completely dead. You knew Justin would never let you touch his phone so you just hoped you still had a job when the swelling went down and you could hide everything under a thick layer of foundation.

“Hey, have you seen y/n?” Bucky asked the chef’s rushing around the galley.

A round of no’s circulated the kitchen and his frown deepened as he called your number and heard it go to voicemail once again. Leaving the cafeteria he went into the administration wing and found Pepper leaving her office.

“Good morning, Mrs Stark.”

“Hi Bucky,” she smiled, “you look a little lost. Who are you looking for?”

Bucky scratched his neck as he looked around the mostly empty office space, but it was still too early for most people to start work. “I was wondering where y/n was.”

“The kitchens I should assume.” She chuckled.

“She didn’t show up today.”

Pepper’s eyebrows knitted together as she knew no one had called through the office in the time she had been in, which was earlier than everyone else. “That’s strange for her. Let me try to call her, just give me a minute.”

She started to turn back to her office but Bucky stopped her. “I tried, it keeps going to voicemail.”

“Well I’m not sure how else I can help, sorry, we don’t have an address for her or I’d send Happy to check on her.”

“What?”

“Yeah, HR has been chasing her up for months about it but…I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

The pit in Bucky’s stomach was getting heavier with each word out of Pepper’s mouth and he was already heading back to the elevator before she had finished, looking confused by his sudden departure. His fingers were nearly bending the car key he fiddled with as he made his way down to the garage and sped out of the compound. He told himself you were fine, you might be sick and resting, your phone left unplugged from the charger and had died while you were sleeping. But a stronger instinct in him told him something was wrong.

He skidded to a halt in your driveway, his boots stomping loudly up the warped wooden steps before his fist knocked on the trailer door. He could hear whispers inside but couldn’t quite make out what was being said before the door opened and Justin filled the doorway. You had seen the sleek black car pulling in and been sent to the bedroom where you wouldn’t be seen before Justin had opened the door.

“Where is she?” Bucky growled.

“What’s it matter to you? Get your own whore.”

Justin’s insult hurt but it was Bucky’s laugh that you found crushing as you buried your face in your pillow to catch the tears escaping your body. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this little punk.”

A crash sent your heart racing and you heard groaning before more of your little house sounded like it was being destroyed. You slipped from the bed and hid beneath your blanket  in the furthest corner of the room, covering your ears as the violence escalated just like your mom taught you. You screwed your eyes shut and tried to remember the songs she used to hum to calm you down but the panic kept rising, she wasn’t here to distract you and she wasn’t here to be the distraction like she was with your fathers anger.

“Y/n?” Bucky’s voice called out. “Where are you, doll?”

You lowered the blanket slowly, just enough so you could see him standing in the doorway to your bedroom, his chest puffing from the short fight. You couldn’t see Justin anywhere. He caught sight of your movement and rounded the bed, his hand held out as you pressed yourself further back into the wall.

“Hey, hey, it's okay, beautiful.” He said softly. “Can I see your smile? I missed it this morning.”

You swallowed deeply, refusing to show him the bruises and the split lip Justin had inflicted. “You should just go.”

“Not without you.” He said with a shake of his head and crouched down to your height. “I’m going to take the blanket now, okay.”

His movements were slow as he reached out and you gripped the frayed edges tighter for a moment before you saw your timid reflection in his eyes. This was the man who had been shy and quiet when you met but you had watched him grow into this man in front of you. If he could overcome the violence he had endured, then maybe there was hope for you. Letting go of the blanket, you saw his eyes harden and you flinched away.

“I’m not going to hurt you, y/n. I’m not angry at you.” He promised before looking back at the door and pulling his phone from his pocket. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You could hear him talking but it was too quiet to hear and in less than 60 seconds he had returned with his hand out to you. “Can I help you up?”

You placed your hand in his and he helped you to stand, noticing the wince as you put weight on your leg and his arm curled around your waist to pull you into his side. “I’ve got you. I’m going to take you away from here, doll.”

“I have nowhere to go.” You muttered.

“Now you do.” He gently turned your head into the curve of his neck as you left the room and he hid the destruction from your sight. “You shouldn’t have to see this.”

By the time he had got you sat safely in his car you saw the Falcon land on your small patch of lawn and Bucky pointed inside your home. They didn’t need to communicate anything else, even with the tinted windows it was clear to see what had happened and Sam looked almost as angry as Bucky did. He looked like he was going to slam his car door shut as he hopped in the driver's seat but at the last moment he caught it and quietly closed it.

“Is there anything important you need Sam to find?” Bucky asked as he started the car but you shook your head.

“I don’t have anything.” You admitted as you clung to your seatbelt. “Just my clothes.”

“No family photos?”

You shook your head, you weren’t allowed to keep anything and you had stopped trying after he destroyed what little you had. You sank low into your seat as Bucky pulled into the compound and the gates opened automatically for him. You didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, you didn’t want the questions that came with it so when he came to a stop in the basement you weren’t ready to move.

“You can have my room. The bed might as well get used by someone.” He offered as he sat along with you after turning the car off.

“Why are you being so nice?”

It sounded ruder when you asked it out loud but it was pure curiosity and he turned in his seat so his body was facing you.

“You used to leave meatloaf in the fridge on my floor. It took me a while to realise it wasn’t on anyone else's.” He answered with a small smile. “I wasn’t ready to handle being around so many people in the mess hall but you were the only one who noticed. You went out of your way to be nice to me when no one else did. You deserve someone who treats you like royalty, doll.”

Tears spilled down your face as every thought in your head told you it was just another mind fuck and he sighed as he saw you weren’t ready to hear the truth yet. The thing with Bucky was he had time and he had patience, he was willing to spend both on you until you saw what he did. Getting out, he walked around the car and opened your door.

“No one will bother you here.” He said as he held his hand out to you. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You looked around and found the basement empty before taking his hand, taking a small amount of comfort as he laced his fingers loosely in yours. “Friday, 4th floor, and no stops.”

Bucky stuck his head out into the 4th floor, finding it empty, before he led you to his room and opened his door. You stepped inside before feeling his fingers slip from yours and he stayed in the doorway. Your eyebrows pinched as you wondered why he stopped.

“Is there anything I can get you?” He asked as he checked he had left his room tidy that morning.

“I…” You looked around the unfamiliar space that was uniquely his until you were back facing him. “I…don't want to be…left alone.”

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, hanging his jacket up on the hook behind the door. His boots were kicked off next and he lined them up beside his other pairs at the bottom of his closet before turning the blankets down and taking a seat against his headboard. “Do you want to watch some tv?”

You nodded and took your own shoes off, placing them next to his and climbed onto the other side of the bed. The mattress was so much softer than yours and he pulled the blankets up over your legs, the fluffy sheets quickly reminding you how numb you had been and you shivered as your body came out of the shock you were in. You apologised as you jumped at his touch but you quickly relaxed under his arm that he placed protectively over your shoulder.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt safe in someone's arms, perhaps it was something you hadn’t experienced until you felt him pull you closer. You could finally relax, you were safe and your body and soul knew it as years of exhaustion caught up with you. Your eyes were closing before he had even found a film to watch and your head lolled into the crook of his neck. The last thing you felt before you were pulled into a peaceful sleep was a whisper in a language you didn’t recognise and the soft touch of his lips on your forehead.

Click here for part two.

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