#i wanted to put a slight glow on her skin bc i wanted the butterflies and fish to glow but i dont know how to do that in ms paint....

[caramelmochacrow]

happy birthday to mashiro!!! :D

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[booklovingturtle]

Helnik Anniversary Surprise

Nina and Matthias are my actual heart and soul. I haven’t read KoS yet so I’m still living in peaceful denial that CK ended the way it did. I want to write about them for as long as I can bc once I read KoS, my heart will be too sad to handle it.

 This is a fic about their one year wedding anniversary.

Nina knew she could trust Matthias with every fiber of her being. He was more than just her husband. He was a piece of her. He knew her in ways that no one could ever begin to understand.

Yet as he guided her down the streets of their old home, Ketterdam, she couldn’t help the nervous butterflies that danced in her stomach. It wasn’t the first time she’d been blindfolded by him, but it was the first time he had done it in public while she was fully dressed.

Nina and Matthias had decided to take a small break from their work across the sea saving the lost Fjerdan’s and enslaved Grisha to visit their friends. Five years since they had had won their war against the city and Nina still wrote to Inej every time her friend’s anchor dropped. If Wylan’s business ever carried him their way, Jesper and him would always take time out of their stay to visit them. Even Kaz, with all of his aloof, cold heart, seemed to find excuses to send them messages through Inej. It only felt right to visit them as soon as they had the chance.

That morning, Nina had been contently wrapped up in the plush covers of Wylan’s guest room when Matthias kissed her awake.

““Hje marden, Roëd Fetla,” he whispered into her ear, nibbling lightly on it. Good morning, Red Bird.

Nina thought of shoving him away to turn burry herself deeper into the bed, but Matthias had left enough feather light touches along her skin to keep her awake for the next few years. “Neg,” she argued even though her body twisted to meet his kisses.

She finally opened her eyes and was greeted with her favorite sight in the whole world. Matthias, golden hair ruffled with sleep and smiling down at her. “We have a busy day ahead of us, Roëd Fetla, so you better get ready.” Before she could question him, Matthias was pulling the covers out from under her chin and chuckling as she squeaked at the cold air.

A day full visiting all of their old favorite spots and a few hours later, Matthias had wrapped a red blindfold over her eyes. When she had made suggestive comments, he had quieted her by promising her that fun would come after the surprise.

One moment Nina was surrounded by the noise of the city. The next, she was following his order to take a high step into a quiet room. She knew immediately where she was from the smell.

At the sound of a door’s lock sliding into place, Matthias undid the blindfold. Warm candlelight lit the front parlor of Nina’s favorite pasty shop. The tables and chairs had been cleared away. A blanket was spread out on the floor surrounded by the candles and plates of pastries.

“Matthias,” Nina said in awe. “What is this?”

“It’s a thank you. For making every day of my life the best day. For choosing to be with me. For loving me enough to help my people see the light of Djel.” Matthias stepped in front of her and gestured to the blanket. “Its a thank you for the best year of my life.”

“I-but...our anniversary isn’t for another week.” Nina was still dumbfounded. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” he smiled sweetly at her. “I know how much you love it here. How much you missed it. I wanted to try and bring you even a piece of the happiness Djel has blessed me with by putting you in my life.”

Tears pricked in her eyes. Nina always had something to say but his kindness moved her beyond words. His icy blue eyes were glowing and his face was full of pride. The light made his square jaw look softer. A slight stubble had grown throughout the day. It had been years since he left Fjerda but he still kept his warrior-like build. He looked the part of a Grisha hunter but it was clear that he was far from that. There was a lightness to him now that Nina had never seen while he was a was still a Drüskelle.

“I love you,” Nina breathed, heart swelling as she stared at the piles of sweet cakes, fruity tarts, and colorful icing.

“I love you more,” responded moving towards her.

“No, I was talking to the food,” she teased, stepping out of his path and plopping down on the blanket. “I love all of you. So very much.”

He laughed, watching Nina delicately pick up a frosted cake. “I assume that means that you like your surprise.” He joined her, picking up a lemon tart. He took a bite out of it, eyes lighting up as he enjoyed the sour and sweet mix of the tart.

When they’d first met, Matthias had rolled his eyes at her love of sweets. Food was meant for survival. It was a necessity, not an art form or source of joy. Watching him not just treat her with deserts, but also be able to savor them was proof of just how much they had changed.

Nina placed her sweet cake down to lean forward. She grabbed the tart out of his hands and put it back down. Matthias's eyebrows drew together in confusion. One look at Nina, the confusion was replaced by desire.

“I’m suddenly very hungry for something else.”

[lnseong]

jump scares.

(idk how to do anon on this ;;, but regardless, i’m starting with a short youjin fic, bc i miss that cute boi. i hope he’s doing a lot better!!)

|| pairing; kim youjin + reader ||

|| warnings; blood (but in movie form), fluff. and a stoic youjin. ||

|| a/n; i’m a big ol’ baby when it comes to scary movies. so i think having a strong, unmoving youji mochi there would be good protection from the spooky ghosts and fake blood. ;; hope you like it!! ♡  ||

In hindsight, saying yes to this movie was definitely a bad idea knowing good and well you’re a giant scaredy cat. But who in their right mind would torment themselves by saying no to a second date with this stupidly amazing guy? Not you, that’s who!

When he called to inform you about the two crisp tickets to the latest horror flick, you didn’t bother giving it a second thought. Much like many of the characters in this film, any rational thought crawled to the back of your head and died, just less… bloody and painful.

“Pick you up at eight.” He had told you in the sweetest voice known to man.

That gave a good five hours to figure out what on earth you’ve gotten yourself into. To do some quick googling on what this movie could be about. The title sounded foreign, like some French romcom based on a novel. Only problem was, when the results came flooding in the first couple lines had you sweating bullets. “World’s best ‘Gorror’ film since Saw!” “The year’s most ANTICIPATED horror flick!” Were you really about to embarrass yourself in front of this guy? The last horror movie you saw almost got both you and your friends kicked out. Guess other’s actually enjoyed hearing the movie, and not some teenager screaming their head off.. You decided to skim through some of the trailers, give yourself a little insight of what you’ll see beforehand. Maybe it won’t be as blood rushing and heart pumping as you expected. Maybe you’ll be able to- oh, there’s a masked villain? Like Jason? How clichéd. Can’t be that bad you thought, even though you’ve never seen “Friday the 13th”, and it’s definitely a little more realistic when it comes to the goreish nature. It’ll be fine! You had said, coming to terms with your decision. It’s not a big deal. If anything you’ll just close your eyes!

Wrong.

Even the sounds are disgusting. The slicing of skin, choking on blood, even the murderer’s maniacal laugh is disturbing. It puts the definition of horror into play tenfold. You’re positive the seat you’re sitting in will have nail marks on the armrests, and maybe even a gross sweat spot. You fought back screams, and even held your breath a couple of times. You wanted him to think you were macho, not scared of a few fake dismembered bodies, or popup faces. No matter how real it all looked you wouldn’t-

“Holy shoot..” You gasped, absently taking a hold of his forearm and squeezing it for some kind of reassurance.

He’s caught more off guard by your sudden movements rather than the screaming, bloodied girl on the screen. His gaze shifts to your frigid form, the way your nails aimlessly dig delicately into his sweater and the chair. The smile that grows on his cheeks is beautiful. Too bad your eyes are wide and glued to the screen. The obvious losing battle of looking away as you begrudgingly force yourself to soak in the plot, what little there is.

He suddenly leans in, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear, “Are you okay?”

You jump, your soul visibly leaving your body with a tiny squeak. You didn’t expecting him to whisper in your ear, let alone pay attention to you during the movie at all. Your head whirls in his direction, eyes glitzing down to notice your fingers kneading away at his dark sweater. Your hand is snatched away, a sheepish smile on your face as a slight red takes over.

“Yeah, I’m.. awesome. Great movie!”

The words come out a little more shaken than anticipated, with an awkward smile and laugh to follow. Youjin chuckles to himself, thinking you’re the cutest thing in the world.

“You can squeeze my hand if you’re scared.” Making his move by taking a hold of your hand and lacing your fingers like lego pieces. Seamless and perfect.

Despite your palm being a little on the sweaty side, his attention goes back to the movie, yours lingering on your conjoined hands, heart beating harder than during any of the spine-chilling scenes, your cheeks ablaze at the simple action.

You’re absolutely baffled, be it the hand holding or him being completely unphased by, well, anything that’s happening while you’re having an internal breakdown. Your thoughts are racing at the speed of light, eyes shaking back and forth, stealing looks at him and your hands every now and again. It’s not like you’ve never held hands with someone, you definitely have, but why during this movie? Why not after, when your nerves are less frayed and your hands aren’t literal waterfalls? Doesn’t he find it gross? This could’ve been so much cuter! With your mind reeling with thoughts, you’re brought back to reality with the sight of a man getting ripped apart; organs and blood filling the screen. You grip his hand like a vice, teeth sinking nervously into your bottom lip as your eyes get shut tight, not wanting to see this gross display. His thumb tenderly runs across your knuckles, trying to calm the tension radiating from your seat. A cheesy grin plays at your lips, falling head-over-heels for this guy in a matter of minutes.

The film comes to an end, people beginning to stand and stretch, chatting amongst themselves about the build up and climax and how there were so many twists and turns. It was genuinely not that bad, shocking at times, but it cleaned up any loose ends rather well. You only hope to never see a movie like this again. You can go a long while without seeing another, but if these dates progress, there might be more eggs in your basket some time soon. Strolling down the sidewalk, Youjin glances down at you, basking in the beauty of your face being brightened by the moon, features accented by the soft glow. He stumbles when your eyes meet, having not seen something so breathtaking. The theater was too dark to really appreciate the warming gaze you hold.

“I take it you didn’t enjoy the show all that much?” He asks with a small teasing undertone in hopes you didn’t catch his gasp.

You blush a bit, smiling back at the ground. “It was okay, alot better with you there, of course. Still can’t believe her dad was the murderer the whole time! I only hope my cowering didn’t get too annoying..” You worry, knowing how bothersome that kind of thing could be.

“Not at all. I thought it was adorable, but you have quite the grip. I thought I was about to lose my hand.” Youjin jokes, earning a light giggle from you. “…I was wondering though, would you want to have dinner with me this Friday? I promise there won’t be any psycho murderers this time.”

His grin is absolutely blinding, eye smile to match. You nod, a smile to rival his tugging incessantly at your lips.

“I’d like that.”

He’s almost buzzing with excitement, his entire face lighting up with those three words. His brain playing them over and over. How’d he get so lucky? An amazing person like you, willing to go another date with him. It’s unbelievable! Little did he know, you’re thinking the same thing. How did you get so lucky? To think, after this messy display of your skittish self, he wants a third date! How amazing is that? You feel your stomach begin to fill with frazzled butterflies, smile never wavering as you think of the days to come.

~ || a/n 2.0; i apologize if it seems a bit rushed and messy, or there’s a lot of talking in circles. i’m still working on improving my writing, and stuff! i’ll get better, i promise.

[savetheblackpaladin]

Could you do headcanons on what you think the paladins might do to comfort a s/o who is pregnant and in a lot of pain due to cartilage softening in their body? Or just a s/o whos in a shit ton of pain either one works

Round 2 in the pregnant S/O series!! Let’s do both at the same time with an S/O about to pop!

Under the cut bc it’s long

Shiro:

listen, the moment he finds out your pregnant he’s educating himself on everything he can, so when the pelvic pain starts he knows exactly what to do

he’s still panicking of course, because his love is in pain and he hates that technically he’s responsible for it, so he’s gonna baby you, goddammit!

he likes to massage your muscles in your inner thighs, hips, and lower pelvic area to ease the tightness and pain in your pelvis

it’s rather intimate and he’s probably gonna get handsy

especially since his hands are already right there and your making such lovely noises

I feel like Shiro might have a slight pregnancy kink, so watch out

absolutely helps you with appropriate exercise to help strengthen your back and ease the lower pain

he has you walk with him around the castle twice a day

hip tilt exercises 

yoga

no butterfly poses for you

hunts down hot packs and hogs them all for you

“I don’t care how sore you are Keith. Y/n needs them more than you.”

“Ok but are you dying? No? Then you don’t need the hot packs.”

“Hot packs? What are those?” Listen, no one is getting them.

you are getting massages all the time

your feet hurt? massage

your back aches? massage

twinge your neck from sleeping wrong? massage

your spawn literally has a foot or something in your ribs? massage

would literally walk behind you and carry your growing belly if he could

he’s done it a couple of times because he just loves it

speaking of belly

kisses you and it every morning. 

gently rests his head against your belly, trying to hear the heartbeat of your child(ren). he gets kicked in the jaw. a lot.

he’s the one to rub cocoa butter all over your belly day and night

no one gets within a foot of you during pregnancy without Shiro nearly flying to get there to make sure nothing happens to you or anybody gets too close

he’s got an irrational fear that one accidental bump would cause a miscarriage

he’s watching like a hawk whenever anyone else touches your bump bc this baby is due any moment and it’s going to be perfect so don’t you dare ruin this

as your due date comes closer, the less Shiro lets you do because you need to be conserving your strength and resting

makes you a wonderful nest to rest in and fetches you everything

goes so far as to stop training altogether and is by your side as much as he can (24 hours the week you’re due)

knows better than to try and cook for you so unfortunately Hunk is dragged into the kitchen at odd hours

he’s so excited to be a dad but you are still his number one concern. he’s so passionate and caring it brings your hormonal butt to tears nearly every day

Lance:

as the youngest son he knows exactly what pregnancy entails and is 100% the best boyfriend you could ask for during this time

the moment the pain starts in your joints/pelvis his is freaking on it!

His sister used to float in the ocean to ease her pain so he brings you down to the pool and holds you up while you float, singing soft songs until you nearly fall asleep

if you do fall asleep he’ll gently wrap you up in a towel and carry you back to your room

when a pregnancy pillow couldn’t be found on the ship he made one for you from extra pillows

his number one concern is your comfort

you best believe this boy knows pregnancy yoga, he had to go with his sisters a couple of times when daddy was working

lower pack pain? you know he’s running to the kitchen to heat up a hot pack at 2 in the morning

“Just you wait baby, daddy’s gone be back real quick!”

“Sorry I took so long, mi cariño, but I also grabbed you some of that food you’ve been craving. Also I brought the massage oil for your feet!!”

“Yeah yeah, I know you just wanted the hot pack but I thought it would be nice to get you other things too. You deserve it.”

doesn’t panic when you hurt, just does his best to ease it

the boy can cook! So you best believe he’s gonna go with all your cravings. You need pickles and peanut butter? yeah sure. raw onion? he’ll try. Taco bell refried beans? well that’s a little harder but yeah sure.

your pregnancy glow has him shook

to him you look like a goddess and he wants you to feel like one

he’s always bathing with you so he can rub his concoctions into your hair and skin that will leave you even brighter

also the way you look carrying his child while the water slides over your skin? oh man, that gets a man hot under the collar

also your hair is really silky now? He can’t stop touching it!

when your feet swell he’s ready with a pillow to get them elevated and a bottle of massage oil

the way his face lights up when you enter a room nearly brings a tear to your eye, he’s so proud of you

legit would show you off in the middle of battle if he could

“You wanna see what a perfect person looks like? Here’s a picture of my Y/n.”

Wolf whistles when you walk out a room

won’t baby you to excess but he knows your limits and he’s there for you on rough days with kind words and soft hands

loves watching everyone coo over you

he’s from a big family so it’s only normal to have the entire ship adoring you

it makes him feel good

always has a hand on your belly when you cuddle, gently rubbing his hands on it

legit cries every time he feels the baby move

His calmness during your pregnancy goes out the window the week you’re due

he’s asking about contractions every hour and the moment they start he’s got a timer out and he’s keeping track. he’s so nervous he’s sweating constantly and he can’t stop bouncing his leg

his hair is so messed up from all the times he’s run a hand through it because holy shit he’s gonna be a father in a few days and he thought he was ready but turns out he’s absolutely not ready to take care of an infant

you’ll have to keep him calm, good luck

Keith

A Mess™

he’s a special mix of fiercely protective and absolutely terrified for the entirety of your pregnancy

when the pain starts his first thought is that maybe you’re dying

once he realizes that it’s just your body getting ready to give birth, the guilt sets in

he’s determined to make you feel better but he really doesn’t have a clue as to what he can do? But he knows a lot about relieving sore muscles

he’s also a hot pack hoarder and you will be constantly supplied with a fresh one the moment he believes it’s gone cold

massages the moment you wake up, massages before bed, the moment he sees a twinge of pain in your face you get a massage

badgers Coran into giving him some sort of pain relieving lotion he can rub on your sore back and joints (after he’s confirmed 12 times that it will be safe for baby)

warm baths when the pain is nearly too much where Keith will keep you company by washing your hair, pouring the warm water over the skin that isn’t quite in the water, soft kisses to your hands and nose

hunts down a hover chair for you and has you use it the moment your feet start swelling up

follows you around like a puppy, a very lost and confused puppy

doesn’t let anyone near you except for Allura, Pidge, and Shiro.

everyone’s pretty sure it’s some sort of Galra thing

when Lance gets too close, he growls from across the room and stomps over over put protective arms around you. (”Rude.”, Lance tells him every time. But it’s only bc Keith sees him a worthy rival)

Hunk is allowed to bring you food but only after Keith deems it worthy with a thorough inspection

With Coran, Keith is just convince he wants to like, perform experiments or something on you. Coran isn’t bothered with it since he knows what Galra males are like with their future young

Keith feels a fierce pride watching Allura and Pidge cooing over you. If he were a bird, he would preen. But he usually just puffs out his chest and holds his head high.

He’s iffy about Shiro being near you but since he’s going to be the godfather and is Keith’s mentor, he has a special place. He’s gonna be nearby though, watching with careful eyes. 

While still terrified of being a father, Keith loves putting his hands on your bump 

panicked when he first felt a kick but he put his hands back immediately and kind of laughed nervously as the kicking continued

talks to your bump at night, before bed. He wonders if baby will recognize his voice outside the womb

kisses you and bump before a mission for good luck

High-key thinks you are amazing to be able to go through pregnancy, especially as the due date comes closer

Ask Keith who’s the toughest on team voltron and he’ll say you every time

your glow? He loves it and he just wants you any way he can have you. it drives him up a wall. in a good way

when he learns exactly what happens to a body though pregnancy his eyes go super wide and he’s just in shock. Like you are doing all that??? HE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW CARTILAGE COULD SOFTEN WHAAAAA?????? YOU ARE AMAZING!!!!!!

the week you’re due he’s in full-on dad mode. something in his DNA just clicked and he’s excited/protective/and a little scary

absolutely no one is allowed to touch you unless you initiate first because he’s ready to rip an arm off 

he just wants you nice and safe in a nest of sorts, building your strength and safe from others

he’s by your side 24/7 with his hand in yours or on your lower back

only leaves you to get you things and he runs the entire way

doesn’t care if he’s being ridiculous because he needs to protect his mate and young

however he looses it the moment contractions start and screams for everyone to come help because he is scared

so so scared

he’s switching between pacing back and forth while Shiro and Lance try to calm him down and holding your hand

he’s crying because ofc it hurts you and this time, there is nothing he can do

can not wait for this to be over. does not want to go through this again

Hunk:

also ate up all related pregnancy literature he could find because he wants to be prepared  for everything

even reads up on other species just in case there’s similarities 

might have screamed when he learned that your stomach muscles literally separate late in pregnancy due to the pressure of the uterus expanding

scratch that. Definitely screamed.

engineers you a sling-type thing that supports your belly to help with the pain

as such you tend to have less lower back pain, even if you think you look a little silly

the moment the joint pain starts up he’s ready!

with warm comfort food. you are gonna be a well-fed pregnant person

found all the extra pillows in the castle and you must recline like a greek god before the pain gets too bad

snuggles with you and rubs whatever is sore. will do so for hours. 

the moment he wakes up he just looks at you for a few minutes, adoring your glow and peaceful face before gently resting a hand on your tummy

kisses!! so many kisses!!! your face!! your belly!! he’s enamored with you!!!

gives you puppy eyes every time you enter the room

when you start doing the pregnancy waddle his heart almost bursts

he’s so overcome with love he starts tearing up a bit

if you stay still long enough he’ll walk up behind you and just hold you under your belly, letting you lean against him

does all your pregnancy workouts with you and surprisingly won’t let you slack off

“Yeah I know you’re tired, but you’ll thank me later when you have the strength to pop out a literal human being.”

“That wasn’t 20 reps. Do it again. Wha–? No complaining you need the strength! C’mon Cupcake!”

So many compliments, like everything out of his mouth is a compliment

“You like glorious today, Cupcake.”

“I wish I could paint what you look like right now in this moment. And no. Selfies aren’t the same.”

“There’s my beautiful pregnant Cupcake, looking adorable as ever!”

“Have I told you how much I love you today? Because it wasn’t enough.”

As the due date draws closer Hunk is surprisingly calm

he knows he can’t panic right now because you need him to be strong

don’t worry, he’s panicking internally

His nerves got the best of him one day and he spent the entire week making a crib out of space junk

with a matching mobile

he’s now making baby toys in his spare time bc he might as well start spoiling this child now

Allura:

SHE IS CONCERN

humans are so squishy compared to alteans????

what does she do?????

WHAT IF YOUR BELLY EXPLODES DUE TO THE PRESSURE OF CARRYING A CHILD?????

you might have to convince her that you’re going to be fine. Humans are surprisingly sturdy when it comes to child carrying

Allura: “Sounds fake, but okay…”

when the lower back pain starts she’s like “Ohmygawd they’re going to die”

but she’s there for you, asking what she can do to help while she holds your hand

shows you Altean techniques to ease pain that are surprisingly helpful? Like pressure point stuff!

totally into aroma therapy so be prepared for her to be lighting incense type stuff that actually works and helps relax you and your muscles

Goes to Coran every ten minutes for advice. He helped raise her and had kids before so of course he knows what he’s doing, right? RIGHT?

shows you all her baby photos that Alfor kept on the ship, keeping you laughing with funny stories 

happens to find altean baby toys/clothes/crib/ etc and excitedly brings them to you when you’re too sore to move too much

doesn’t want you over reaching yourself and lets you have her hover chair from the comics

she may be a princess but you are her Queen/King and she will do anything you ask of her

lots of time is spent in the Altean pool so you can exercise without pressuring your sore joints and feet

she finds you the comfiest clothes to wear as you get bigger, loving how adorable you look in altean robes

I feel like Alteans are nuzzlers

likes to walk up behind you and nuzzle your hair before quickly kissing your ear (she thinks only yours are cute)

tucks you under her chin at night and wraps her arms around your belly, content to breathe your scent

super cuddly the farther along you get, until she’s pretty much latched to your side

she works out hella hard now because she’s got a child coming to protect too

you thought she was lethal before? now she’s outright deadly

sings altean lullabies to your bump at night before sometimes falling asleep on your chest

thinks your swollen feet are hilarious because that doesn’t happen to Alteans

but she’s willing to massage them for you

in between her giggles because they’re huge!!!!

also when your belly button pops out? HILARIOUS SHE’S CRYING WHAT ARE HUMANS?????

she’s got the crib set up next to your guy’s bed the week you’re due

she’s ready to do this!!!! BRING ON MOTHERHOOD

will carry you sometimes whether you want her to or not, she likes the heavy feel of her pregnant boo in her arms

in awe when the baby’s foot/arm can be seen stretching out your belly

“She’s reaching for her mommy!!!”

she’s convinced it’s a girl (she’s right)

“Who’s a good little baby floating in embryonic fluid? You are! You are!!”

Coran:

in the original Voltron he had a family once so Coran is already prepared!

although a little concerned with how a human body with hold up with a hybrid

he’s already figured out what to do if your body tries to reject the baby

you’re a little concerned about being potentially injected with anti bodies but he’ll thoroughly test it out with your blood first before the real deal

the chillest because he’s already gone through this once

has the pool on reserve at all times for pain-free floating

“Don’t worry love, I will hold your growing belly for you when you’re too tired!”

finds Altean maternity clothes that help support your body as it changes

totally has some pain-soothing/coco butter type altean cream to spoil your growing belly with

thought he was too old for this but seeing your belly swell with his child has filled him with energy befitting someone 100 years younger

he’s so bouncy and excited

he’s got an education plan already lined up and this kid isn’t even born yet

he’s dusting off his culinary skills because this poppa is gonna provide

warns you about the pain of softening cartilage like a month before it actually happens (another biological difference between alteans and humans) 

he was actually worried for a bit there that humans didn’t do that and he was concerned about the birthing process

huge sigh of relief when the pain did happen (you were a bit miffed)

“It just means everything is going according to plan! Now let’s get you comfortable. Maternity clothes help but they can only do so much!”

Doesn’t find the swollen feet as hilarious as Allura did, he was actually worried your body was having troubles

“Is--Are those supposed to do that?”

Once he’s convinced it is, in fact normal, he’s all about elevating them on pillows and gently massaging them until the swelling goes down

He’s fascinated by how the human body changes differently that the Altean and he thinks you’re amazing!

pokes where your muscles have separated on your belly

“And it just goes back? Without surgery??”

Appreciates your hips widening because mm, mm, daddy likes!

“Your what grows bigger???”

Mustaches tickle on your belly but Coran continues to pepper it with kisses every morning and night

Not a good singer. At all. Doesn’t stop him from trying to sing lullabies to your belly.

Doesn’t want to leave bed ever. He just wants to cradle you and his future baby all day long.

Absolutely cannot wait to be a dad again