#you know on top of the physical reasons i was blamed for my body hurting i was told it was due to my depression

[dredshirtroberts]

okay note to self: it takes approximately 2.5 hours (fed and hydrated properly) for the ibuprofen to kick in enough to give me the ability to move *some*. It does still hurt but oh god is it less than it was.

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.

But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 

It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 

Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 

In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 

Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 

A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 

“The fuck you doin’?” 

“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 

He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 

You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 

Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 

There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 

Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”

You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”

You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.

The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 

In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 

Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 

Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 

You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 

The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 

Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 

It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 

He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”

You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.

You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 

“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 

“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 

Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 

It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 

Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 

It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”

You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”

He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 

“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”

See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 

You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 

And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.

“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.

“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 

“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 

He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”

It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke

“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”

You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 

“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.

He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 

Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 

It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 

Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 

Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 

He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”

“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 

“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”

“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”

“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”

“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 

“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”

“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”

“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”

His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”

“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”

There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”

The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”

He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 

“You don’t have to-”

“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 

“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 

He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 

Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”

“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”

You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”

“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”

“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  

He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.

“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.

“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”

“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

“That’s two questions.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”

“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.

“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 

“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”

It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 

You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”

“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 

His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”

“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”

If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”

“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”

“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 

“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 

You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 

“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.

“So no sex then?”

Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.

“So you’ve never-”

“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.

“Not even after you left?”

“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 

“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”

“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.

He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”

Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 

In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 

“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 

“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 

It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”

Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.

You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”

“Deal.” 

You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 

Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 

Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 

Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 

An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 

“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 

Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 

You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 

When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.

His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 

“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”

When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”

“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.

He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.

It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 

But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.

He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.

With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 

But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 

You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.

His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  

You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”

Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 

The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 

They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 

You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 

Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.

You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.

He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”

“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 

“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”

Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 

Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.

His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 

Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 

You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 

“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 

For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 

It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 

“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 

But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.

“You close?” 

“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 

“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.

You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.

That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 

His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 

An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 

“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 

“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 

Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 

You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 

When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 

With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 

The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 

For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.

And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”

Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”

As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 

One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 

Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 

All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.

You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 

That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 

You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 

“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 

“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 

You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”

His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.

You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”

Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 

He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 

Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 

Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 

Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 

He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 

You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 

He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 

When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 

You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.

The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 

When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.

“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.

“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 

With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 

You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”

He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 

It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”

He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”

You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 

“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 

“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”

Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”

“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”

[luveline]

hiii, i just wanna say i absolutely adoreee ur writing ur amazing and fabulous. I wanted to request something with hotch where reader gets hurt pretty badly in the field and is gonna have to spend a lot of time in recovery (so like not being able to work in the field for a while) and just a lot of fluff and comforting? (thx ur the bestest ever ever ever and i <3 u i’ve been reading ur stuff for years)

love u <3 fem

Your leg is broken in four different places. 

Hotch is sure you're going to cry the moment you realise what that means, but he isn't expecting for it to be a minute after you've woken up. 

“We'll get you something for the pain,” a nurse promises.

“It's not that,” you say, you sob, looking between your leg and Hotch as though you're hoping he'll tell you something different. 

You live for your job. They all have their reasons, and they all have their vices. You and Hotch are the same —you can't live without this. There's no alternative. 

But your leg is undeniably broken. 

The nurse gives him a look, hoping he'll calm you down, and he would've started the moment your eyes welled with tears if he thought he could change the outcome. Still, it breaks his heart to see you so immediately upset. He has to try something. 

“It's not forever,” he says.

“How long?” 

“Not forever.” The break, the surgery, the physical therapy. He asked for the estimates. He doesn't want to be the one to tell you, but you won't accept it from anyone else. “Six months.” 

The broken leg isn't the end of it. Your wrist is fractured, your pinky and ring finger broken, a laceration the length of his hand up your thigh. You were concussed, you're still at risk of agitating all the things you've hurt. Your face crumples and you can't even cover it with two hands like you would. It is, admittedly, the worst you've ever been at. Hotch can't stand it.  

“Would you excuse us?” he asks the nurse. “I have her.” 

“Hotch,” you say as the door closes, your voice achingly unhappy, “make them check again.” 

He takes your uninjured wrist. Holds it. “They've done everything they can do. I promise you, I was here for all of it. I argued against the pins, I knew they'd keep you here longer, I– against my better judgement, I sent people away because I knew you wouldn't want them to see you like this. This is the best outcome I could salvage.” 

“This is the best?” you ask, shaking your head at him. “This is my life.” 

You didn't see yourself. The way you'd laid there after it was over. You don't get that this is a good thing, that you weren't hurt worse. All you can see is months of desk duty, and he can't even blame you, because six months away would make him ill. 

“This is the best I could do for you,” he says, rubbing your wrist with his thumb. “I'm sorry.” 

His apology catches you off guard. You make a sound near a hiccup and turn to him completely, the fat body of a tear dripping down your cheek to your chin, where it stays. He can see the question before you've asked it and he won't make you, either, leaning down to cover you up with his arms, his chin atop your head. “I'm sorry, honey. I know how much it means to you.” 

“It's…” Your good arm works around him weakly, a hesitant touch to his back. “Not your fault. I…” 

He lets you fade, rubbing at the top of your arm, enthusing you with as much warmth as he can. “Six months recovery doesn't mean six months out of the field,” he promises. “In two months you'll be walking. It won't feel as long as you're thinking.” 

“In a boot.” 

In a full cast, poor thing. He frowns, pressing his nose into your head. “You can consult from home just as soon as you're home,” he says softly, still rubbing your arm. The touch turns to a gentle stroking, his palm numb to the ticklish sensation your naked arm brings, the sleeve of your hospital gown bunching with each line he makes. 

“I know you're unhappy, but it will heal. And you have an army of people who can't wait to see you. We… things have been complicated.” 

“How long was I out?” you ask. 

“You were awake between surgeries, but it's been two days.” 

You hug him with more insistence. “Thanks for looking after me,” you whisper. 

Oh, sweetheart, he could say. He could kiss your crown. Honestly, Hotch could take your face into his hands and suddenly he is, he's holding your face and looking down at you, eyes dark and sorry to your silvery tears. 

He strokes your cheek. “It'll be alright,” he promises. 

You dissolve into tears again in his hands. He wipes them away as they come, for as long as they will. It's the least he'd do for you. 

[selfloverrrrrr]

Omg so for the requests thing, I’m here begging for mean yandere yuuta noncon smut. Hear me out, he is not some shy subby baby like some people make him out to be. Have y’all seen how cold he is in recent chapters? To that point, he’s not concerned about hurting you. If you won’t behave, he’ll slap you around a bit and tie you down. He’s a sadist with his darling, and if she fights back it’s all the more reason for him to put her in her place.

What Did You Expect?

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Yuta, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Yuta's POV

What did y/n thought when she approved me as her roommate? That I'll be a good boy like I act in public. Make people believe that I'm just an innocent boy who respects everyone? Well that's not her fault... I won't blame her! Everyone believes my act!

Let's not talk about everyone... let's talk about y/n ... She was exceptional. I've met so many girls before...but none of them made me feel like this. Well that's not my fault that I imagine her naked when she looks like that sexy... And always wears short clothes.

She always wears a short skirt and crop top in college. Why doesn't she understand that makes my heart stop! And one day we all friends were playing the truth and dare. In that stupid game everyone gave her a dare to sit on my lap. And she did. Of course she thinks I'm a good guy.

Does she know how hard she made me by sitting on my lap?! I couldn't stop moving when she sat on my lap. Fuck I was too hard I was just hoping that she won't notice how hard I'm right now!

Does she know how many times I had to masterbate that day?! Every time I was masterbating my dick was getting hard again. My mind was full of images of her riding me. Does she know every night I sneak into her bedroom and use her hand to masterbate?! No she doesn't! But after she sat on my lap I couldn't control it anymore... I'm gonna use her tonight! Doesn't matter if she wants it or not!

Y/n's POV

I just came back home. I was out with my female friends for shopping. I saw laying on the couch and watching something on his phone. "Hey Yuta...did you do dinner?" I asked. He looked at me and his eyes traced my whole body. "Yupp.. I did" he replied with a smile. "I did too there" I said. "That's great then" Yuta said.

"Okay I'm gonna try these dresses good night then" I said. "Yeah okay... good night" he replied and I went to my room. I closed my door and went to the bathroom. I got fresh. I turned on the light of my room and took my shopping bag. I was just wearing a bra and pantie.

I took out the dresses I bought. There were three dresses. One floral long dress, one red mini frock and one black mini revealing dress. I was looking at them and thinking which one I should try first. "The black one would look sexy on you" a voice said from behind me.

I turned around and gasped. "Yuta? W-what are you doing here?!" I said and fell on the bed. "What do you mean? I live here too" Yuta said and started walking towards me. "But this is my room!" I protested. He didn't stop walking towards me.

I started throwing my dresses at him. "Yuta stop!" I said. But he didn't. Then I threw my pillow at him. He grabbed it and threw it on the floor. Then he started crawling on the bed towards me. I started backing up but he grabbed me and caged me beneath him.

"y-yuta please get away! I never thought-" before finishing my sentence he interrupted me. "You never thought I would be like this... and you always thought that I'm a good shy boy like you always saw, right?" He said and leaned closer. "But baby how can I be like that good boy?... when you always dress like that" He said with pleading eyes.

He grabbed my hand and placed it on his crotch. "Look what you did to me" he whispered. I felt his dick hard. Hard as rock. I tried to pull my hand but he kissed me forcefully. He started undoing my bra. I slapped his hand but he didn't stop. He threw the on the floor.

I grabbed his hair and pulled. "Yuta please stop" I begged. He looked at my boob squeezed it with his hand. I moaned loudly. His head loosened from my hand. He slapped me roughly in the face "are you gonna behave or I have to make you behave?" He said with grinded teeth. He crashed his mouth on my boob.

Yuta started licking my nipple. His was so teasing. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I scremed so loudly. " you don't know.... how much I waited for this!!!"

When he was done playing with my boobs he got up and started taking off my panties. " Y-yuta please...." I begged again. "Shhh... You are wet... lemme help you." he said with his smirk. He bring his face close to my pussy and licked it. "Ummmmmmm..... heaven~" he whispered to himself.

He took off his clothes. His huge length was out now. My eyes widened at his length. It was too long and too thick. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then line it with my entrence. I began to panic. I knew it wouldn't fit." Yuta.... please no .... Yuta please no... I'm begging you!!!" I begged him. He slapped me again. "Fuck... it's finally gonna happen " he said.

Yuta pushed his whole length in one slide and I screamed with pain. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. I was screaming loudly. His huge dick was giving me too much pain. He started giving me hickeys on my neck and chest. His thrusting getting faster and harder. My whole body was shaking. He was moaning too. The way his dick was touching my g-spot made my back arch. It didn't take much time and I came. As I came that smirk again played on his lips.

I felt his dick start throbbing inside me. " Y-yuta please...not....not inside" I begged in a whisper because I didn't have the power to speak. It was too much for me. "Why not?... Don't you want a good innocent child like you thought I was?" He said with an evil laugh and thrust even harder. I started crying helpless. When my warm walls clenched around him he moaned loudly. In a few minutes he came inside me. He slowly pulled out and threw him beside me. He brought his face closer to mine and whispered....

"another round?" He whispered. My eyes widened. "No no no no... please no!" I sobbed and begged. But he started laughing evilly. I kept crying....

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Chapter 9

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Tommy Miller x reader (secondary)

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, and both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

Pacing is a bit off for reason's I'll explain at the end so uh have mercy. I shifted thing a bit but I think it'll make the last chapter better.

*********************

If we had a daughter I'd watch and could not save her The emotional torture From the head of your high table She'd do what you taught her She'd meet the same cruel fate So now I've gotta run So I can undo this mistake At least I've gotta try... -Labour, Paris Paloma

It was cool out, and the fall leaves crunched under Joel heavy footsteps, shuttering and flittering as he pulls you across the lawn, screaming his brother's name in vain, horse shouts. 

You were supposed to rake tomorrow. 

“TOMMY! TOMMY! TOMMY!” was all you could say, all sense having left you as soon as you were thrown around in the kitchen. It was another slap that brought you back to reality, opening your eyes to come face to face with the man who had beaten and loved you in such harsh contrast this last year, pulling you both to stand on top of a chair. Your shirt felt wet from how much you cried and were still sobbing, but you have enough thought, just barely, to stop screaming for Tommy… he let go, and you wanted to run, wanted to protect your baby… but you’d get nowhere. You look down at the crowd that gathered, all men you recognized, some you liked, some you knew were just waiting for Joel to relinquish you to them… and Lorenzo, his normally droopy bedroom eyes opened wide with fear.

This is how you’d die, isn’t it?

Joel yanked your face back to him. “They ain’t gonna save yuh, little one. Not even Tommy would save you, you know that, right, for all you cry for him, he still chose me over you. He chose Maria over you, because you are NOTHING! You were nothing but a pastime to him but me?” A rush of calm as he held your chin tightly, nails digging into the skin and clawing your face open. “I love you, princess, and all you do is hurt me.” His voice was soft, small, and for a foolish moment you think maybe he already peaked in his rage… until a strong, painful punch in your sternum knocked all breath out of you... and again. and again.

You hear Lorenzo call out your name, and through your sore throat and abused body, you manage to get out and small ‘don’t’. You hope Renzo knows that’s meant for him. Don’t do it. Don’t risk your life for me, I’m not worth it.

Joel throws the rope over the tree branch, and as you look at your surroundings, you are struck with horror at the realization that this is the tree in which Nick’s skeleton lay at the foot; an area you always intentionally avoided since Joel brought you out here so, so long ago. The rope that his hands hung from as Joel skinned him alive was across from you… was that your intended fate? Would he really do that to you, 8 months pregnant? Or would he kill you and preform some sick, botched c-section?

He fashioned a noose around your neck.

“Joel, Joel please, I’m sorry”

“I don’t fucking care!”

“THE BABY, JOEL!” You sob, pleading for your child's life. “Please, please just wait until I give birth, then you can do whatever you want but they shouldn’t be punished because of me!”

“You’re right, she shouldn’t” Joel always referred to the baby as ‘she’, despite no evidence. He pulled the rope tight, causing you to choke and stand on your toes to keep breathing. “This is your fault.” He slapped you, making your head swing wildly to the right. “It’s your fault I’m hurting you.” He slapped you again, and you felt blood leave your mouth. “You hurt me!” He screamed, and another slap. The ringing in your ear doesn’t prevent you from hearing him as he tells you that you are hurting the baby yourself before delivering his final blow. You can’t focus your eyes at all… but you can hear him, although you wish you couldn’t. From the loud voice and the feel of his breath, he’s right in front of you. “I should tie us both up, little one, and kick this chair out from under us, end it all, is that what you want?”

No, absolutely not. Even after everything, you didn’t want Joel dead, and it hurt you to hear the pain in his voice, just as it hurt to see the betrayal in his eyes as he learned of Tommy… You loved him, you loved him, you loved…

“N-o!” you choke out, the harsh rope burning on your throat.

“As much as I know you want me to,” Despite the fact you said no, he was so convinced you hated him. “You don’t get to win, cheating bitch.”

He hops down, rope in hand, tying it to the bar of the chair and leaving you gagging and rasping on your tippy toes for air on the chair. He mutters his usual threats to the men, that anyone who helps you or touches you is dead, and you watch him walk away towards the house. 

So you stand there for what feels like forever, attempting to pull the noose off but you can barely breath, can barely see, can barely hear… you can, however, feel your precious baby kicking.

One by one, the men get bored and wander off inside, until two bodies are left.

You register Lorenzo’s smell, alcohol and those strange gross cigarettes he smokes, hoping up on the chair and quickly taking you down. You can’t stand, and Lorenzo barely stops you from completely collapsing on the ground. He yells at Jack to help him carry you inside, but Jack hesitates, no doubt not wanting to die… but after back and forth, another arm is lifting you up, and your heavily pregnant form is stumbling back to your home.

“Hey, stay with me sweetheart, we’re gonna get you back, okay? But I need you to stay awake, I think you’re concussed”

You don’t answer; you can’t answer, really… even as you slowly start to gain a little focus. Lorenzo is talking you through it. ‘Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot.’ Although you’re certain Lorenzo could carry you on a normal day, 8 months pregnant was another story.

You weren’t sure what his plan was, but it didn't really matter as Joel was waiting inside for you.

“Jack, take the girl.”

Lorenzo spoke up. “Joel, calm down, I know damn well you didn’t want her dead-”

“Jack, take the girl, and cover her eyes.”

You try to say no, to tell Joel to stop, but words don’t form like they should… Joel wouldn’t listen anyway.

So, there you are, stuck in Jack’s arms which were oddly tight, protective and comforting as Lorenzo’s blood splattered on you both, Joel pistol whipping him hard before shooting.

Lorenzo’s body falls to the floor as a clump of deadweight, and as Joel grabs you, dragging you into the room, all you can glimpse is Jack frantically trying to stop Lorenzo’s bleeding as your only friend screamed in pain on the floor.

When the door closes, Joel is a new person, pulling you to him and onto the bed. He was sat up against the wall, holding your back to his chest as your body wracked in sobs. Lorenzo was dead, you were in pain, and you were so, so scared for your baby. Could they survive what Joel had just done to you? You were certain it was over for now, Joel was back to his lovey, post-violence state had already set in… but what about next time? Joel had been safe for months… months where you didn’t run, you cooked and cleaned and serviced him and fucking hell, you fell in love! You loved him! You were the best possible wife you could’ve been, all while carrying his child, and even the mere suggestion of waiting on having another instead of pumping them out like he wanted, and he nearly killed you.

Was he trying to kill you?

Lorenzo said he wasn’t.

But you weren’t sure…

Lorenzo…

Despite the protruding stomach, he began to massage your core, and you were too violently ill and dizzied to protest. You’d be too scared to even try, anyway. You weren’t sure how long he tried until he gave up, but it felt like forever, minute after minute of your shaking, aching body crying in his arms as he tried to bring you to orgasm with his hands before realizing you weren’t the slightest bit wet. Your body didn’t even have it in you to attempt to betray you this time.

So Joel just held you, and held you tight, so tight you couldn’t hardly breathe again and you had no choice but to try and relax yourself until the sobs bubbled down to gentle hiccups and a steady stream of tears.

“Why do you make me do this to you?” Joel spoke, his voice croaking and you suddenly notice tears on your neck. “Why do you make me hurt you?”

“I d- I don’t know.” You gasped and tried to answer through the shaking tears.

“I don’t want to do this, you know that right?”

“Uh-uh”

“You make me act like this. I’ve been good to you, haven't I?”

“Y-y-yeah-ah.”

You almost killed me and our baby.

“I feed you, I care for you.”

“Y-yeah”

Tommy fed me. I cook for you.

“I make love to you, I make you come, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

You rape me.

“You’re my wife”

You kidnapped me.

“I gave you a child.”

You forced this on me.

“I gave you a life here, free from your father.”

You ripped me away from Zach and June, you sent Tommy away, you killed Lorenzo.

“But still, you treat me like dirt.”

I cared for you. I’ve been a nurse, a servant, a cook, a whore

“You cheated on me with my own brother”

I was terrified of losing my virginity, and Tommy was safer than you.

“You disrespect me”

I asked a question.

“You know why I do this, right? It’s for your own good. Our baby needs a good mother, she needs a mother who will love her unconditionally, who will always be there for her, to be a good example. I can’t have you running around making her feel unwanted, can I?”

“No.”

Joel buried his wet, crying face in your hair. “So it’s not really my fault, is it?” It was like he was begging for forgiveness, for absolution, justifying it to you, to himself, maybe even to Sarah…

You answer him, sleepy, head throbbing and you feel like you could throw up. “No, it’s my fault.” and it was. It was your fault for not leaving with Zach, for not taking him up on countless offers he made in letters Lorenzo passed between you, offering to run away with you and June and Lorenzo… even continuing to beg into the pregnancy, but you ignored him, causing many fights between you and Lorenzo. It was your fault, and now Lorenzo was dead or dying and you were trapped with no way to contact Zach, no way to get to him…

He caresses your head and body. “Yeah, it’s yours, but it’s okay, I forgive you. You’ll do better, I just know it.” Joel sounded like he was about to fall asleep too. “You’ll be good for her. You’ll be a good mom for Sarah.”

If you weren’t so fucking tired, the revelatin of the extent of Joel’s dellousions would be shocking to you, but you couldn’t find anything shocking anymore.

“I spoke to Tommy the other day.” He sat up, laying you down into bed and tucking you in. “He’s doing good.” A kiss on the cheek and he continued his talking. “I was think’n, maybe after she’s born, we could see Tommy a little bit? Not much” Joel was quick to warn. “Maybe just… once every month or two… so Dolly can know her uncle?” He was back to using Dolly… “Would you like that? See’n him a little bit here and there?” He was offering you an olive branch.

“Y-yes, I’d like that.” Tommy… seeing Tommy again… You wanted him so badly, you missed him so much it hurt… Lorenzo was a blessing, he was like a brother, but Tommy was someone special. A kind, soft heart in a world of monsters…

“Go to sleep, little one. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

You thought you shouldn’t sleep, given that you were clearly concussed, but Joel was so warm beside you, big and broad and protectively wrapping his arms around you… You allow yourself to drift off; there was no use fighting it anymore.

But tomorrow wouldn’t be a new day. Tomorrow would be the same thing. Cooking, cleaning, baby, sex… every day for the rest of your fucking life.

The next morning Joel brought you eggs and toast... Breakfast in bed like a good husband… You waited until it was safe to ask about Lorenzo.

Hesitantly, Joel let you go see him… he was alive, but barely. The gunshot went straight through, thank god, but the wound on his torso was already looking infected, and his face was deeply swollen and bruised; Jack was no nurse. 

But Lorenzo was still Lorenzo. “Hey sweetheart, you look like shit” 

You smile at him. “Yeah, you’re not exactly Han Solo yourself.”

“Now, how come you know who Han Solo is but you don’t know Fleetwood Mac?”

You go on to explain the comics and Joel telling you all about it while you care for his wounds, making little jabs at each other until you are done, and he grabs your hand; sincerity in his voice.

“What happened? After he shot me… what happened?” 

Lip quivering, you answer. “Nothing, really. He took me into our room and he-he held me and cried-”

He furrowed his brow at that. “He cried or you cried?”

“B-Both” You whimpered.

“Jesus”

“And he-he-he he told me I made him do it, that it’s my fault and I was a bad mom-”

Lorenzo groaned, and went to scrub his face, but yelped and winced in pain from his pistol whip. “Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me. I know I call you stupid and dumb and… I don’t understand why you stay, I really don’t… but…” He reached out and took your hand. “But this is not your fault. Even when you stay, even when you make him mad, it’s not your fault, and you are not a bad mom.”

You allow yourself to cry as he tells you, being perhaps the first person to say…

This isn’t your fault.

Two days later was when Joel left you next. You had sworn up and down you would forgive him so long as he got Lorenzo the medicine he needed, and tried your best to give him the best makeup ‘I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, Joel, I’ll do better next time, please don’t kill me’ sex you could give to smooth it all over.

The closet was locked; he kept your shoes in there, as he did any warm coats or gloves or anything that made aid in running away, but you didn’t care. You were going to the barn, you were taking a horse, and you were getting far, far away from here. You had a tinge of remorse for leaving Lorenzo; Joel will surely take it out on him, but you had gotten him his medicine and with it, a fighting chance. 

Right now, you have to run. Nothing mattered more than your baby’s life.

It was cold, crisp, but not unbearable in your sweats, socks, shirt and jacket. You had to find your way to your family farm, find Zach and go. Joel didn’t know June existed, so she was safe from his rampage… if you were lucky, your dad might be who Joel takes it out on. Joel had told you if you tried to run, Zach was the first person he’d go to… but you wondered if now that Tommy was gone, Joel might go to wherever the hell Tommy was first.

You loved Tommy, there were few people who you loved like Tommy… but you loved your child more, and you prayed that Joel would go to Tommy first, buying you and Zach some time.

As you ran through the woods, your thoughts were scurried, desperately trying to find the barn in the darkness; there were few stars and no moon, and you had never been taught a sense of direction… You weren’t sure how to get to your family farm, but Christ, you were running for your life right now. 

SMACK! You ran into a tree, no doubt adding to the horrific bruises on your face as is, but that's nothing compared to the horror of Nick’s skeleton under your body. You barely manage to cover your mouth from the scream as you fall backwards and scramble, trying desperately to get away.

As you run into a pair of legs, a hand covers your mouth this time and you scream, loud.

You are turned around and are suddenly face to face with Jack.

“Jesus fucking christ!” He whisper-shouts. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

You immediately begin begging. “Please! Please don’t tell Joel, I’ll go back! Please Jack he’ll fucking kill me, he’ll kill my baby please don’t tell-”

“Shut up!” He hisses, standing up from his crouched position to run his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCK!” Jack begins pacing, considering his course of action. “We’re going back to the house.”

You nod obediently.  You could figure out how to escape later, right now you needed Jack to keep a secret. You’d do whatever you needed to.

“Please don’t tell him, please” You sit up on your knees, wobbling with the belly but giving your best attempt to look pretty. “I’ll do whatever you want.” You’d suck him off, he could fuck your ass

“Jesus Christ, he’s got you fucked up.” Jack turns out, groaning, before helping you stand. “Get up, we gotta talk to Lorenzo, he’ll… fuck he’ll figure something out.”

Jack started walking, and you hesitated… you aren’t sure of you can trust him… but damn if you don’t have any other options. You look back and into the woods, debating your choices.. When you see a glint of silver in the grass near the skeleton.

A jackknife, the one Joel used to skin and castrate nick. You had no weapons… so you took it. It had a smooth wood handle with an ivory inlay, with a blunted out edge… the button struck a little as you practiced switching it in and out.

Not hearing your footsteps on the leaves, Jack turns around and urges you on.

He instructed you to stay put on the side of the house. He said Joel isn’t due back for a few hours, but just in case. Not long after, a stumbling and swearing Lorenzo is walking outside under Jack’s support.

“Of all the fucking times you wanna leave, you had to chose when I’m barely alive, huh?”

“I’m so-”

He holds up a hand. “Stahp.” His boston accent was thick with irritation and pain. “I’m just fucking with yuh, kid. Let’s get you to Tommy.” He began to walk, with Jack’s help, to the barn. 

“But Zach-”

“Tommy is closer. I know where Zach was gonna take you, I’ll give Tommy the instructions.” He turned to Jack. “You need to go. Joel is gonna kill you if she and I left on your patrol.”

Jack shakes his head. “No, I don’t think he’d”

You spoke up. “He would. He told me he… he knows you and Tommy still talk. He doesn’ trust you.”

Jack groans again, rubbing his face.

Lorenzo continues. “Swing by and get Maura, anyone in proximity to this is in danger.”

“Fine, fine. Meeting in Boston?”

“Rapid City, we’re not there in 4 days, keep going. You know the plan once you get to Boston.”

You turned to Lorenzo. “Zach, Joel said-”

“Relax, sweetheart. Jack and I’ve had an escape plan ready to go just in case, and that involves your brother.”

The plan was for Jack to go to the farm and get Zach… if all went well, you’d meet up in Boston. There they’d find a friend of one of Lorenzo’s sisters, Tess, and she’d help you… You weren’t entirely sure about all of this, but Renzo would bring you to Tommy… Tommy would keep you safe.

Lorenzo wasted no time. He saddled up quickly and he and Jack helped you on the horse. You thanked Jack as he and Lorenzo hugged goodbye, and Lorenzo took off galloping for as long as his wounded body could take. He slowed down after half an hour, his weakening body slumping up against yours, telling you how to get to Jackson and what to tell Tommy should he fall over… If Lorenzo passed out and off the horse, there was no way to get him up in your condition… 

Somewhere along the lines, you  found yourself apologizing, apologizing for causing so much trouble, uprooting his life, uprooting all their lives, Tommy’s happy life in Jackson…

“Sweetheart, knock it off, I mean it.” He said in that harsh but loving tone. “Joel… he said you were nothing, that you were nothing to Tommy but that’s not true. I love you, Zach loves you, and Tommy absolutely loves you. We are doing this to give you and that baby a chance at survival.”

You continued into the night, until a group of men on horses approached with dogs.

“Lorenzo Alverano!” He shouted, and the men looked at each other. Quickly, you and Lorenzo were sniffed out for infection and hurried off into the city limits and brought to where you sound found out was Maria and Tommy’s home, the men banging on the doors.

It was Tommy who answered. 

You didn’t look like yourself at all.

Even under the dim porchlight, Tommy could see the expanse of bruises and scratches on your face, your black eye, the hanging and strangulation marks and rope burn, the busted lip, the considerable amount of fat you’d lost… and of course, your 8 month round belly.

“Oh honey…” Tommy murmured before rushing to take you in his arms. “What did he do to you?”

You cried heavily in his arms as he guided you inside where another woman watched, questioning Lorenzo on the situation at hand. You were introduced to her, Maria, and although she was straight to business, you didn’t feel unwelcomed. Tommy would care for your emotional needs, Maria was planning your escape.

It was decided when she spoke. “Lorenzo, you’ll never make it to Casper the way you are, you’re staying here.” She turns to Tommy. “Take one of the travel bags and go.”

“Maria. ” You didn’t know if he was going to protest or what, but Maria stopped him short.

“Go. She needs you.” She looked… Sad, almost, as she turned to the men. “Get Lorenzo to a safehouse with a medic.” Back to Tommy. “You, get the horse and the bag and go. There isn't much time, Joel is gonna come barreling and we need to prove you’re gone.” 

Back and forth, Tommy looked at you, then Maria, then you, then Maria… before standing up. “Okay.” and he headed out the door in a hurry.

Maria looked at you sympathetically. “Do you remember me?”

You tried to think… she looked familiar but- oh. “The first day.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Joel… I wanted to stop him, but I was trying to broker a deal to keep Jackson out of his grasp and…” Maria shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m honestly amazed you lived, knowing Joel.”

“Yeah.” You huff out. “Me too.”

“Tommy’ll get you to Boston, get you safe, take care of you…” She looked sadder, the more she talked…

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t help but over apologize, it was ingrained in you now. “But once my babies safe, I’ll leave you and Tommy alone. He’ll be back and you’ll never hear from me again.”

She didn’t look like she believed you. “Sure. He’ll be back…” did she believe herself?

Despite Maria and Tommy’s insistence to hurry, they took their time saying goodbye, Maria grasping tightly to his body.

“I’ll be back, Maria. I swear. Get through the winter and I’ll be back first thaw, okay?”

Maria didn’t sound like she believed Tommy either.

One hand was around you, holding you tightly to him while the other guided the horse, urging it on to run as much as it could… you needed distance, as Joel likely already returned to the house and discovered you were missing by now.

It was a long while before he spoke.

“What did he do to you, honey?” It was that soft, low, ever-calming tone he used on you that never failed to make you felt into him… “How did this happen…”

You couldn’t help but tell him the story of the last 8 months since he’s been gone. The pregnancy, Lorenzo, the freedom, and exhausting housekeeping with a giant belly… How Joel began to see you as his wife, his maid, a person to make babies and clean the house… not as a person like you had thought.

Finally, you told him how Joel beat the ever-living fuck out of you, how he hung you from the tree and left you for dead… and how you called for him in your hysteria. 

Tommy rested his head on yours, taking in the smell of your hair as he apologized for not being there for you.

When it was clear you weren’t getting much further, Tommy guided the horse to an old abandoned house he knew off in the woods. Tommy knew this area well, having made this trip many times throughout the years. The sleeping bag you were sent off with was intended to be shared between two people for body heat, but not necessarily a heavily pregnant person… the fit was tight, but nonetheless 

you were comfortable in his arms. You were always comfortable in his arms.

“I’m glad you’re here, Tommy.” You spoke softly, drifting off to sleep.

“I am too, honey.” Tommy kissed the side of your face, and as the tiniest peak of light shown through the horizon, Tommy and you drifted off to the small amount of sleep you could before continuing on your journey to Boston, to start a new life.

*************

CW For a bomb threat on kids between the *******'s

*********************I work at a day care, it's week 2, and between waking up from nap and snack time we received a bomb threat. Our building evacuated around 100 kids to a nearby church. People where there to set up a anniversary party and were incredibly kind. They set up a tv for the kids to watch a movie, brought out water and crackers for our poor kids who didn't get their snack, and tissues for the teachers who were crying. its me i was teachers. I did great getting the kids to safety butt as soon as the action ended i was a mess. not long after a bunch of people arrived. My day care does child care for workers at the nearby hospital we are a part of so pretty soon lots of people where there including the hospital president, HR, and on sight counseling which I took part in. Turns out it was a middle school pulling a "prank". Law enforcement said they have never seen a building full of children evacuated that quickly and safely. Several of us are new. **************

this being said... I am exhausted. I cried a lot and my anxiety drained me... but I wrote this chapter bc writing helps me cope. So.... it's not my best writing but that's okay.

chapter 10 will probably take a while to see, because I need it to be perfect, absolutely perfect for you guys because you all deserve it. You maaaaaayyy just a small drabble bc there was a scene i wanted to include but it just didn't fit!

I go on a trip next week where I'll finally get to see Matchbx 20 who ive had tickets for since 2020 but covid ruined it lol...

I'm also working on a joel one shot for ya'll

anyway thak you all so so so much for your continued support!!!!! I love you all very very much

Reblogs are the best way to spread and support, but comments mean the world. I know not everyone likes to share dark content on their blog, but even a kind anon is such support!

Anyone got any guesses for the grand finale? I would looooove to hear some theories!!!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @tidlewav3 @bunnnyy-dummy @slutfortimotheechalamet @foggymoonbanana @dinsbaby @miraclesabound @jenna-ortega @primosworld @marclovers @threeheadedlamb @secretwriterpp @the-fox-den

@bitchyglitterfox @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@lunar-ghoulie @pedritosdarling @dreamonseems @alwaysdjarin @amoramorquetepintas @milla-frenchy

[surrogate-fawn]

Quartz and Sea Glass

((Drabble/Short story based on the backstory a rp with @mittysins of Fawn's first step into the world of surrogacy.))

{This drabble is a sequel to "The First Goodbye" and is Part Two of a planned series based on the rp between Mitty and I. This drabble will not make sense without the context of Part One.}

TW: Mentioned miscarriage/stillbirth, infertility, family abandonment.

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

Don't put me on a pedestal for what I decided to do with my life. I ain't a saint.

I'll fully admit that I became a surrogate for selfish reasons. When I discovered there was a market out there of couples who needed a healthy body to carry their baby, I did not give a single shit about helping them -- all I cared about was the money.

I was twenty years old and homeless, still living off minimum wage. Can 'ya really blame me?

Lord only knows how that little worm of an idea got into my brain. Maybe it was during a mindless re-watch of season four of Friends. Maybe it was seeing something on the news. Or maybe it was during one of those three-in-the-morning anxiety attacks -- the ones that had me scribbling down as many outlandish solutions to my life as could fit on a napkin.

Not a lot of good ideas came about that way.

However it got there, one day I found myself seated at a library computer searching up as much information as I could find about surrogacy. As soon as I saw the rates some of these couples were willing to pay, I was sold. Fifty to sixty grand -- paid over the span of months. That sure as hell beat $7.25 an hour! The fact I could be eligible for certain state benefits on top of that money didn't hurt, either.

Best part? The one obstacle that could've been in my way had been crashed down a year ago: at least one healthy and successful prior pregnancy.

This was it. This was my way out!

But I hesitated.

As I sat there, staring at the Google search results that led me down the rabbit hole, I wondered if I was really capable of going through it all again. Not so much the physical symptoms, those all passed as soon as the pregnancy was over.

I was wondering if I could handle saying goodbye again.

My son's first birthday had just passed. I'd put a candle in a cupcake and blown it out for him the day of, alone in my room and still in my UDF uniform after work. I'd wished I'd known what name they gave him. The "Happy Birthday" song is a 'lil hard to sing without a name. I'd just called him "my baby" in the song. At least it fit. He would always be my baby, wherever he was and whatever he was called.

I blinked at the blue-tinted monitor. The screen was getting fuzzy and my eyes were stinging. I force-closed the dozens of tabs I had open, shut the computer off, and began my walk back to the women's shelter.

No, I couldn't. Money or no money, I couldn't go through it again. I never...never wanted to go through it again.

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

A week later, I made another trip to the library to borrow some time at the computer. I couldn't afford a laptop or smartphone, so it was a trip I usually made every other day; but work had been leaving me too tired to swing by.

I found an email waiting for me in my inbox, from a surrogate agency site I remembered looking up. In my mad scrolling, I must have signed up for their mailing list without thinking about it. It was from the highest-rated site I'd found, so at least I didn't have to worry about it being a phishing scam or tied to some baby black market or whatever.

I almost deleted it out of reflex, but the subject line read: "The Basics of Surrogacy, Free Information Guide". A brochure? Not an ad pressuring me to join so they could start taking a cut of my pay? Sure, I'd take a brochure.

So, that was the moment I made the best decision of my life: I opened that email.

I'll spare you the business side of things, but once I got in touch with the agency it all started falling into place. The whole process was much more voluntary than I realized. I spoke with several surrogate mothers who had been matched with clients through the site, and they all stood firm that nothing was done unless both the surrogate and the parents agreed to it. I would have a say in who I matched with. I would have a say in how much I was to be paid. I would even have a say in what the birthing experience would be like!

What finally sealed the deal for me, though, was the fact this company only dealt with what I learned were called "gestational surrogacies" -- meaning none of their surrogates were the biological parents of the babies they carried. I'd have someone else's egg inside me -- I would essentially be a walking incubator. That sounds kinda weird when you think about it, but it solved the biggest issue I had with tapping into this gold mine.

Not my baby? Not my DNA? Fine by me. I decided I'd gladly get paid fifty grand to sit around and grow someone else's kid. Sounded like the easiest job in the world.

I sent my application in two days later.

Two months, a psychiatric assessment, and dozens of medical tests later, I was in.

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

The Tariqs weren't the first couple who asked to meet with me. There were two other couples I had a first meeting with, but neither of them clicked with me the way Ray and Tess did.

We met for the first time at a park situated alongside the Tennessee River, bundled in jackets to keep out the early-autumn chill. There just so happened to be a food truck parked by the entrance we agreed to meet at, and Tess declared we should get to know each other over lunch. Seeing as I had skipped breakfast to make it to work on time, I didn't mind the idea.

I was standing off to the side while the Tariqs ordered from the truck, counting out the amount of cash I had on me, when suddenly I heard Tess call me over.

"Which one 'ya want, shug?" she asked, pointing to the menu plastered on the truck's side.

They bought me a chicken panini and a hot hazelnut macchiato, insisting it was their treat. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have needed the rest of that interview -- I had already chosen to be their surrogate in my head.

Buying me food is a fantastic way to get to get me to like you.

We sat at a picnic table beneath the golden oak trees and got to talking. Raymond (or Ray, as he preferred to be called) was a second-generation Indian immigrant and Tess, his wife, was a born-and-bred Knoxville gal. They lived on the rural side of Knoxville, just barely inside the city limits, in a 1960's farmhouse they'd refurbished themselves. Both were in their mid-thirties by the time they sought out surrogacy; up until that point, they'd been though quite a battle with infertility:

They'd been trying throughout their four years of marriage, but Tess could never carry to term. The few times her pregnancy tests would come up positive, she'd bleed a few weeks later. Although they weren't opposed to modern medicine, they'd preferred to try more "natural" methods to solve their fertility issue before going to a doctor. Such methods included the Kama Sutra, meditation, crystals, herbal blends and -- of course -- prayer.

Just the year prior, it seemed their home remedies had worked when Tess finally made it into the second trimester with a baby boy.

They'd lost him in a stillbirth days before the third trimester milestone.

Piled onto that tragedy, the hospital discovered Tess had a defective uterus -- it was physically impossible for her to carry to term. So, that's where I came in.

As I told them about myself, they were delighted to know I came from a household that had rather New Age ideas about life. I didn't mention that I no longer lived by those ideas -- it would've opened too many questions.

However, I certainly understood the good home remedies could do! I was more than happy to trade my recipes for salves for Ray's tips on where to buy the best beeswax in Knoxville. So happy, in fact, that I got carried away.

"My mom makes beeswax candles," I said, hurrying to swallow the bite of panini I had in my mouth. "She used to scent 'em with oils from her flowers, but the oil would seep right outta the wax once it got warm." I chuckled, feeling my nose crinkle in the embarrassing way it does when I laugh. "Sometimes, at dinner, we'd light one of her candles at the table. We'd blink and suddenly there'd be a puddle of rose oil dripping onto the beans and cornbread!"

"Maybe I can help her out with that," Ray said with a grin. He took a quick sip of his coffee. "My grandparents keep bees over in India. My family has a lot of tips on how to melt and mix the wax."

I almost choked on my food when I realized I'd brought up my family. Shit...now I had to be careful.

"Maybe," I said with a causal shrug. "She's back home in West Viginia with everyone else. It's a little hard to make time to see 'em."

"Oh, I'm sure," Tess nodded. "It's the same with my daddy's side of the family. We're just so far apart we forget 'ta check up on each other as often as we should." She finished off the last of her bagel. "And with you, Fawn, you work full time with a little 'un at home. I'm sure 'ya family understands."

I didn't blink for a while. I just stared at the river until the cold breeze dried my eyes out. "Oh, well..." I cleared my throat, "I don't have a little one at home."

Tess looked confused. Ray looked mortified.

"But it says on 'ya file you were pregnant last year?" Tess half-asked, half-stated. I could tell from her tone that there was no malice in her. She'd clearly read my profile and made assumptions.

I smiled, maybe showing a little too much teeth. "Yeah, I was. Very healthy pregnancy, very healthy baby boy, but I don't have a little one at home."

Ray put his hand over his wife's wrist, his sea glass bracelet quietly clattering on the wooden table. Tess went pale and her look of confusion faded into a silent scream.

"Oh. I'm...I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean 'ta-."

"No, no! I don't mind bringing him up!" I said, a nervous laugh jittering my lungs. "I never get the chance to talk about my son, but I think about him all the time!"

I surprised myself when the expected sorrow didn't come. Instead, excitement filled its place -- an odd sense of relief that I could let out some of the thoughts that had been haunting me.

I proceeded to word-vomit about how wonderful it was to be pregnant with my son, and how angelic his parents were to me, and how I knew he would be okay -- even if I missed him -- and so forth and so on. I honestly don't think I stopped for breath.

I saw Ray and Tess glance at each other from the corners of their eyes as I rambled, a pair of knowing grins on their faces.

I'm no mind reader, but I think that's when the Tariqs made their final decision.

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

Tess was with me for the embryo transfer, her ring-laden hand resting on my arm as everything was prepped. I was bloated as a water balloon from the multiple fertility drugs I'd been plunging into my veins -- every day, might I add -- for the past month. I sure was hoping those suckers worked, because being in a permanent state of PMS was ass. Total ass.

I reclined on the exam table, legs up in those familiar stirrups and my hips covered by a thin sheet of paper. I inhaled through my nose as the doctor inserted a long, thin tube of plastic through the ring of my cervix -- the end of which was attached to a syringe full of clear fluid. Somewhere in that syringe, three little embryos floated around -- and one of them was hopefully about to nestle into its new home.

I watched the fuzzy grey blurs on the ultrasound screen as the doctor angled the wand to see what he was doing. As I watched each of the three tiny balls leave the tube...I just hoped those fertility drugs didn't work too well.

Tess grinned down at me once it was over, her blonde braid falling over her shoulder. "We got three good un's in there," she said. I noticed she was clutching the quartz pendant around her neck like a string of prayer beads. "I'm sure one of 'em will like 'ya enough 'ta stick around."

I think she was just as worried as I was. Tess's egg retrieval, the test tube fertilization, the freezing, and my daily injections all combined into almost three months of prep work just for this ten-minute procedure.

And if it failed, we'd have to do it all over again. And if that failed, we'd do it again. And again.

"Yeah," I sighed, lowering my legs from the stirrups, "I hope you're right, Tess. 'Cause if not, I swear to God I'm gonna have-."

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

"A girl!" Tess screeched to the high heavens, throwing herself against Ray in an attack hug. She jumped for joy while hanging from his neck, almost pulling the poor man to the floor. "It's a girl, Ray! We're havin' a girl!"

Ray laughed, backing up from the table so his wife didn't mule kick the ultrasound technician. "I don't know, Fawn," he said, looking my way with a huge smile and a raised eyebrow. "Do you think it's a girl?"

"Not sure," I said, my nose crinkling in a snicker, "but I think Tess said something about it being a girl."

"Shuddup you two," Tess giggled, sniffling as tears began falling down her cheeks.

Ray held his wife's face in his hands and gave her a kiss deep enough to explore the sea floor. The technician and I decided to focus on the ultrasound images to give the couple some privacy.

I craned my neck to look up at the screen. What had been a microscopic ball four months ago was now an apple-sized baby girl with wiggling arms and legs, and -- thank God -- there was only her in there. The other two embryos had never taken, but this rowdy little girl had held tight. I smiled as I watched the rapid flutter of her heart beating, amazed at the sight. I remembered being just as amazed by my son's heartbeat, what few times I'd gotten to see it.

"Look how active she is!" the technician said, pointing to the baby's constant wiggling. "You should be feeling those little dance moves of hers very soon."

Ray and Tess returned to admire the fuzzy images on the screen. Tess was drying her eyes on her sleeves, and Ray's smile may as well have been glowing. He had his arm around Tess's shoulders as they watched the miniature dance party going on inside me. The sea glass bracelet rattled as his hand came to rest over his heart.

"That's our daughter, Tess," he said. His voice broke a bit as he repeated: "That's our daughter."

"Yep," Tess sniffled, hugging her husband's torso and resting her head on his shoulder, "that's her."

I watched them hold each other like that until the technician turned off the wand and wiped the gel from my slightly rounded belly.

The Tariqs had already begun the steady payment plan we'd agreed to. Even after the agency took its cut each month, it was still more than I'd ever made in my life. That had been why I'd agreed to do this for them, after all.

That ultrasound appointment is what changed my outlook on what I was doing.

These two people. These two amazing people, so overcome with joy because I was carrying the baby that they could not.

I wasn't an incubator anymore. I felt more like a nanny, protecting their baby for them until she was strong enough to come out. They'd wanted this baby for so, so long -- and I was the one making that dream of theirs come true.

I knew what it was like to desperately want to hold a baby you were unable to have. I may not have been able to heal my own hurt, but here I was...healing theirs.

I wasn't doing it for the money after that.

I never did it for the money again.

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

Five days after my twenty-first birthday, I woke up to a rather nasty surprise at one in the morning. I'd gotten kicked in the bladder, and my bedsheets and pajama bottoms were damp and sticking to my skin in the humid July air. Fantastic. Not again.

With a groan, I rolled out of bed and started shuffling my way to my door. I held the weight of my belly in my arms as I made my way to the upstairs communal bathroom, hoping to take the pressure off my hips.

I blinked against the harsh florescent light as it sputtered to life over the toilet. With a gruff sigh, I shut and locked the door.

"Suri, you gotta stop doing this," I slurred, my mouth too tired to move. "I'm letting you use my uterus as a bed and breakfast. The least you could do is not try to pop my bladder every night."

Surinder. Her name was Surinder, but we'd been calling her Suri for short. Ray picked it out. He liked it because it was based on the name of a Hindu god and also sounded like the word 'surrender' in English. Tess had fallen in love with the name. Me? I would've just stuck with 'Suri'. I knew exactly what kind of teasing she was in for at school with a name like 'Surinder'.

You can't exactly walk into public school with a name like 'Fawn' and not get laughed into oblivion.

At least the nickname gave her an extra name to fall back on. If that didn't work, she also had her middle name to use: Elora. I would've done the same back in high school -- I did have three to pick from -- but 'Aspen', 'Coriander', and 'Medulla' wouldn't have made the teasing any better.

I'd gone in at age eighteen and erased two of those names. It was just "Fawn Coriander Sequioa" now. Still not a normal name by any means. I often thought about going back into the records and legally changing my last name, just like my parents had done when they'd joined the commune before I was born.

I didn't need my last name. My family didn't want me anymore.

Alexander may have opened up a whole new world for me, but he made sure I burned every bridge behind me as I crossed it. I was already beginning to question my parents' worldview by the time I started dating him, but he took that little spark of doubt -- a spark that, if left alone, would've grown into a steady burn-away of my old ideals -- and fanned those embers into an uncontrollable hatred.

"They're a cult, babe," he'd told me. "Why can't you see that? I can take you away from that bullshit that says you gotta fuck other guys to be happy. I only want what's best for you, and for us."

After months of letting my teenaged angst and frustration boil over, it happened. An argument started between Mom and I over something asinine, and the geyser fucking exploded.

I parroted everything Alexander had been telling me. I told my parents they were nothing but sexual perverts who wanted me to be a whore all my life. I told them how their "woo-woo" medicine got kids killed all over the country, and that blood was on their hands. I told them how much they'd fucked up in raising me.

I told them I hated them.

I told Dad I hoped the next woman who sucked his dick bit it off.

I told Mom that if it was her, I hoped she died choking on it.

The last time I saw Dad, he was throwing everything I owned out of my bedroom window until I was on the sidewalk surrounded by broken furniture and muddy clothes.

The last time I saw Mom, she was sobbing face-down on the couch and refusing to look at me.

Even now, I would be willing sell my soul -- to lay down and die -- just to undo what I did that day.

I didn't give a shit at the time, though. I picked up what I could carry off the front lawn and walked to the nearest payphone to call Alex. I had to tell him I was finally free.

Free.

Right.

What a fucking joke.

I splashed some cold water on my face to wash off the nighttime sweat. Suri rolled one of her feet against the top of my belly, causing a little moving bump that I playfully poked with my finger.

"I'm going to bill you for all those crazy dance parties you're having in there, missy," I said with a grin, a lot less frustrated with her than I was a second ago.

I grabbed a washcloth to start cleaning myself off, but the realization dawned on me and I stopped cold. That was her foot. Her foot was at the top of my belly...which meant her head was angled down...which meant there was no way she'd kicked my bladder.

As I stood at the sink trying to solve that puzzle, I found the missing piece. My belly clamped down hard enough to pitch me forward. I grabbed onto the sides of the sink with a small gasp, feeling the muscles of my torso all tighten and shrink in the direction of my uterus. As it did, a little more dampness spread across my pajama pants.

Oh fuck.

Oh, holy fuck!

I left the bathroom in as much of a jog as I could manage, rushing back into my room and to the brand-new cell phone charging by the window. I had no idea how to save numbers on that thing, so I manually dialed Ray's number. His was the only one I could remember.

The other side of the call rang for a solid thirty seconds before Ray's sleep-drunk voice picked up:

"Hello?" he grumbled. "Who is this?"

Oh, right. He probably didn't have my new number saved, either.

"Ray, it's Fawn," I said, noticing too late that my voice was trembling. "You and Tess need to come pick me up...like right now!"

I heard a rustle on the other end, and suddenly Ray sounded very much awake. "Fawn? Fawn, what's wrong?!" I thought I heard Tess say something nearby, probably on the other side of their bed. "Why do you need us to get you?! Suri isn't due for another two weeks!"

"She...she had other plans," I said, taking a deep breath to steel my nerves. "My water just broke."

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

Ray's face was illuminated by the highway streetlights as he glanced back at Tess and I in the backseat of the car. "How's it going back there?" he asked, flicking his gaze between us and the road.

"Aughh!" I groaned in response as a contraction stole my ability to speak. I tried to lift my hips off the leather seat as more fluid leaked from me, but the seatbelt held me down. I was already sitting in a small puddle of it, and I was worried I was ruining their upholstery. I was still dressed in my pajamas, but I considered them a lost cause.

"We're doin' fine," Tess said, slipping her hand into mine so I could squeeze it -- which I did. "Focus on the road, Ray."

Tess had buckled herself into the middle seat of the minivan, giving her enough room to tend to me while I was strapped in the window seat. I sat with my legs as far apart as the seatbelt would allow. I could already feel the baby pressing through my cervix, and I recognized the pounding pressure that came with it.

The contraction lasted about forty seconds, and it left me reeling and panting. I had no idea when to expect the next one. "Why is this happening so fast?!" I asked, my voice shrill with anxiety. "I was in labor for over a day last time!"

"It's probably not happenin' as fast as 'ya think, doll," Tess assured me, giving my hand a pat. "You could'a slept through most of early labor. Second baby always comes faster than the first, 'ya know."

No. No, I did not know!

"Tessie, how close did the doula say she was?" Ray asked, obeying his wife and not taking his eyes off the road that time.

Tess's face was bathed in white light as she quickly checked her phone. "Ten minutes," she said. "She'll be waiting outside the house when we get there."

Just before she put her phone away, I saw her clutching the quartz pendant again.

Just as promised, the doula was parked outside the Tariqs' farmhouse when we got there. She climbed out of her car as soon as our headlights lit up the gravel driveway. Ray parked the minivan with a lurch and jumped out to start helping her carry things into the house.

Tess helped me out of the car, letting me use her as a crutch as we hobbled up the front steps.

"You ready 'ta do this, Fawn?" she asked.

"Are you ready to do this?" I rebutted.

Tess paused for a second, and then rubbed my lower back as we reached the porch. "Not really," she said, "but no one ever is."

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

Turns out, I wasn't as deep into active labor as I thought I was. In fact, I'd barely started it. The doula told me I was six centimeters dilated, and that I'd likely been in labor for close to twelve hours at that point.

"No, that's not possible," I protested from my reclined position on the sofa. "I wasn't having contractions until now."

"Trust me, you were," the doula grinned from her place between my knees. She slipped off her blue latex gloves and tossed them in the trash as she stood up. "I'm willing to bet they were just really mild up until you started leaking."

It was a relief to know my water breaking didn't mean I was going to deliver right there and then; but it also sucked knowing I was still in for a long ride.

I spent the rest of that night laboring around the farmhouse. It was so nice to not be stuck in a hospital room that time. I was free to do as I pleased, which Ray and Tess were sure to make clear.

Ray opened a few of the windows to let the sounds of crickets and frogs in, as well as the sweet-smelling breeze of the countryside. Meanwhile, Tess made it her life's mission to make me as cozy as possible -- no matter where I ended up. Thanks to her, pillows followed me from the sofa to the floor, from the floor to the recliner, and then back to the sofa.

Eventually, I got too restless to sit still and I needed to be upright. I was on my feet for the rest of active labor, hanging from the edges of furniture or leaning on either Tess or Ray for support during the contractions. Neither of them minded a bit.

It didn't hurt any less than the first time I went into labor. At times, I was so overcome by the increasing horrible sensations that I began screaming. Each time that happened, either Tess or Ray (whichever I was currently clinging to) would wrap their arms around me and the other would redirect my focus.

"Look at me, doll," Tess said, taking my face in her hands while Ray held me upright.

I was hyperventilating and sobbing my way through a nasty contraction and had forgotten how to use my legs.

"Look at me," she repeated gently. "Focus on my face. See my eyes? My nose? My mouth?" she pointed to each feature as she listed them. "Just think about what'cha see. Think about every detail 'ya can."

It was a technique that sounded stupid on paper, but in practice it was very effective at keeping me grounded. If I counted each of Tess's eyelashes or tried to trace the shape of her mouth in my mind's eye, then I didn't focus on the pain.

I could do it. I knew I could. I'd done this whole song and dance before without painkillers. I could do it again.

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

At ten in the morning, eight hours after arriving at the house, I finally felt the shift that told me I was almost done with this.

I was kneeling on the hardwood floor of the living room, my thighs supported by the shallow birthing stool the doula had brought. Beneath me was an absorbent blue pad. Based on the design of the packaging it was pulled it from, it was supposed to be for potty training puppies. Weird...but if it worked, it worked -- and it was certainly needed. The head was descending quicky, and a few bloody strands of cervical mucus were dripping from me as the last of it gave way.

I'd shed the damp pajamas I came in, but the sweat rolling down my back made me shiver each time an outdoor breeze came through. Tess draped a thin blanket over my shoulders and stayed at my back, her hands never leaving my upper arms as I bowed my head and wailed through a transition contraction.

Ray knelt a few feet in front of me, the doula at his side. He looked a strange mixture of nauseous and excited -- we had decided he would be the one to catch the baby, and the doula was talking him through the process ahead of time. I noticed he was holding a hand to his heart as he listened to her, the sea glass bracelet hanging from his wrist.

We all knew it was about to happen.

When the head finally lodged itself into my birth canal, I said nothing. I just acted. I gripped the front edges of the foot-tall birthing stool and let out a feral growl as I started to push. A chorus of encouragement came from the people around me:

"That's it, doll! C'mon!"

"Go with the urge, Fawn. You've got this!"

"Very good, that's what we like to see."

Having gravity on my side this time made pushing feel much less like a chore. I could feel Suri working her way down each push I gave, and she usually stayed where she was once I let up. Kneeling on the stool seemed to be easing her down exactly where she needed to go.

I let out a yelp -- of surprise more than pain -- as I suddenly felt her head pressing against the skin of my perineum. The pressure opened my lips up like a flower, and the doula shined a flashlight underneath me to confirm her head was visible just inside the bulge of my lips, sitting there ready to crown with the next push.

And holy fuck, did she crown! The burn started the second her scalp met the outside air.

"Oww! God-fucking-damn it!" I white-knuckled the wooden stool, a strangled scream leaving my throat as I felt the head bulge out further, peeling my vagina apart like some demented fruit.

Ray scooted closer, rubbing alcohol up and down his arms in preparation to catch. With the doula watching over his shoulder and aiming a flashlight down so he could see, Ray slipped his hands beneath me. I felt his fingers prodding the skin around the head.

"Just like that, yes," the doula told him. "Help her open, this baby seems to be eager."

"No shit!" I roared, my arms trembling as another push sent the head rushing downward. "Fuck!"

I felt Ray's fingers trace the circumference of his daughter's head as more of it emerged, heard the quiet squelching of the afterbirth coating his fingers. When I no longer had the contraction to help me, I let up. Ray kept trying to massage my vagina open, even as I was trying to rest.

"Stop!" I snapped, and he withdrew.

Tess was hiding behind me, her hands on my shoulders the only reminder she was there. She peeked over my shoulder at her husband during the brief lull in my screaming.

"How far is she out?" she asked, unable to see for herself.

The doula craned her neck. "Almost fully crowned."

"She has so much hair," Ray said with a breathy laugh.

"She does," the doula agreed with a grin. "Her daddy's hair, too. Very dark."

I tilted my head to the side, panting heavily but morbidly curious. "Can...can I feel?" I asked.

The doula took my hand and lead it below my belly. I gasped in awe when I touched the hot, gooey ball of hair sticking out from my body.

"Woah..." I muttered, not sure what to else to say.

My fingertips wandered between my legs for a few seconds, and it was both fascinating and horrifying how my anatomy felt nothing like my own body. Everything was stretched and moved around, and it didn't feel like I was touching anything resembling a human body part -- save for the head sitting where a head shouldn't be. Frightened, I pulled my hand back just in time to bear down against a new contraction.

"Hands out, Ray," the doula gently encouraged. "Here she comes."

I felt Tess press her forehead into my upper back. I think she was feeling faint.

"Ah!" A sharp cry, almost a bark, shot from me as the head reached a full crown for a few terrible seconds. Then, with a wet slip, her whole head came free.

"Holy Mother Gaia..." Ray marveled in a half-whisper. His hands cupped the head hanging under me with the most attentive care in the world.

He didn't have much time to admire the view, I wasn't done pushing. I screamed through closed lips as I felt the ring of flesh just behind my skin get stretched wider than it had ever been. I knew something was wrong as soon as that stabbing, tearing burn began. Suri was two weeks early, but she suddenly felt bigger than my son had been.

"Pull her out!" I begged, remembering what the doctor had done. "Just pull her out!"

"Can't," the doula said. "Her hands are up by her ears, there's nowhere for us to grab."

"Take it slow, Fawn," Ray offered. "I've got her, there's no reason to rush."

I took a few quick pants and rested, hoping the stabbing burn would lessen if I let myself stretch out. It's no wonder it hurt so bad delivering her shoulders, she was making this part more difficult than it needed to be.

Tess's hands lightly squeezed my arms and I felt her hiding her face in the blanket draped over my back. Yeah, she was definitely on the verge of passing out.

Gravity was pulling on Suri even as I was trying to let myself stretch, and the shifting pressure triggered me to push without the aid of a contraction.

"Aughh, Suri come on!" I begged, pushing so hard my vision was going double.

Maybe saying her name was intimidating enough to get her to move, because with that push I felt her arms pop free. Ray gasped, and I felt his hands shift to support her upper body as the rest of her slipped out of me. I heard fluid splash and splatter onto the puppy pad, and just a second later, Ray lifted a small blue baby up from under me.

"Get her breathing," the doula urgently instructed. "Turn her over and rub her back. Support her head."

Ray obeyed, gently flipping Suri over on his lap and rubbing his large hand over her back. Her head hung disturbingly limp on her neck as he jostled her around, but I knew that's what it was supposed to be like. It still looked scary.

Suri splayed her arms out, as if she's been surprised, and let out a gurgling wail as her first breath.

"There she is," Ray sighed with releif, turning her back over to hold her in his arms. The doula whipped out a small towel and draped it over her body to keep her warm.

Tess came back to life and rushed to be beside her husband the instant she heard the baby cry. The moment she saw Suri in her daddy's hands, she dropped to her knees and covered her mouth. Her eyes spilled over, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Oh, Ray!" she cried, her voice shaky and breaking. She reached out and pet her daughter's wet mop of black hair. "Ray, she's beautiful!"

Ray couldn't answer, he was too choked on tears of his own. Both parents held their daughter between their bodies, too joyful for words to express. Their tears and shared kisses told the story, though.

As for me, I wasn't too sure what to make of the situation. She was out, she was healthy, and her parents would be taking it from here. My job was done; but it did feel a bit...abrupt.

"Fawn," Tess turned to me, uselessly trying to dry her eyes, "do you want to hold her?"

I didn't think, I just spoke: "Yes. I've never held a baby before."

Ray and Tess lifted Suri up to me. Ray adjusted my hold so I could support the places that needed it, and Tess made sure the bloodied towel was in place so Suri wouldn't get cold. Within seconds, there I was with a minute-old baby in my arms, sitting against my bare chest.

I stared down silently at the tiny person who had been living inside me the last nine months. She was screaming her head off, but her lungs were sounding clearer each time her mouth opened. Her pink, toothless gums reminded me of a fish's mouth.

"Hey, Suri," I said, my voice sounding far away. "Must feel better out here, huh?" Suri wailed again, unhappily flailing her arms and legs around. "Or not."

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

I rested on the sofa, extra puppy pads beneath me, as the doula and the parents did the 'lotus ceremony' on the other side of the room. I'd had to sit on that stool for an extra twenty minutes until the placenta passed -- Ray and Tess wanted to have a lotus birth, where the cord was burned through only after the afterbirth was delivered.

I didn't want to know what they planned to do with the placenta itself.

Ray had offered to drive back to the women's shelter later that day to grab my duffel bag for me. In my panic, I'd completely forgotten the overnight bag I'd packed. So, for the time being, I was naked and covered only by the thin blanket Tess had given me.

The lotus ceremony finished up, and Ray and Tess pulled up some chairs to sit beside me. Tess had gone topless and had laid a sleeping Suri carefully across her chest, doing skin-to-skin so they could establish the proper mother-baby bond. Her eyes were red and raw, and fresh tears were falling from them.

"Fawn," she began, "you'll never know how much this means 'ta us."

"You're welcome," I said, offering the couple a tired smile. "She was a rowdy tenant, but I'd gladly do it again to give you guys the family you want. You'll be an amazing mom, Tess."

Tess let out a small sob that turned into a chuckle. "Thank 'ya."

Ray rubbed his wife's back, his own fresh tears falling. "We have something very special to give you, Fawn. It's...the closest thing we have to fully repaying you."

Tess nodded. "Money ain't enough. It would never be enough."

In sync, both couples removed the pieces of jewelry I'd never seen them without: Tess, her quartz pendant; Ray, his sea glass bracelet. Without a word, both new parents bestowed the items on me as if it were a coronation. Tess slipped the pendant around my neck and flipped my hair out from under the chain it hung on. Ray carefully slid the band of clattering sea-green beads over my hand until it came to rest softly on my wrist.

I looked at the new gifts with a grateful smile. "Something to remember you guys by?"

The couple gave each other one of their classic knowing grins.

"No," Tess said. "We chose these items months ago. They were always intended for who our surrogate would be."

I tilted my head to the side like a confused dog -- I guess the puppy pads were appropriate after all. "What?"

"From the day we met you, we've been praying over them," Ray explained, repeating the hand-over-heart motion I'd frequently seen him do with the hand that had worn the bracelet. "Each milestone we reached, we made sure our joy in the moment was stored in the crystals."

"Quartz is best to channel the energy of a mother, for Mother Gaia," Tess explained. "Glass shaped by the sea is best for a father's energy, for all life was fathered by the sea."

We were silent for a while, just staring at each other. The only sound was the soft cooing Surinder made in her sleep.

"We want you 'ta be a part of this family, Fawn," Tess said. "We've put a part of our essence into these crystals. Our joy, our love, our gratitude. So, whenever 'ya wear 'em, we'll be with 'ya."

Now I was crying. I opened my jaw to say something, but nothing came.

"We've talked about it, and..." Ray said with a smile. "...if you would like to, we'd be more than happy to have you stay here with us until you get back on your feet."

"Livin' out here has been much less of a headache than in the city," Tess continued. "We could help you find a nice 'lil place of your own sometime soon, a home where you can make a life for 'yaself."

There was another pause. I let tears fall silently down my bewildered face.

"You don't talk much about 'ya family," Tess said. "You don't owe us no explanation, but...Ray and I figured...you might need someone in 'ya corner."

That was it. That was the killing blow.

I jumped forward and threw my arms over Ray, collapsing into sobs I hadn't experienced in months. I would've grabbed both of them, but Tess had the baby. I didn't actually say anything to them, but I think they got the message.

Maybe there was something to those New Age ideas of theirs. As I sat there sobbing, I swear I could feel the warmth of Tess and Ray's love seeping into my skin through those minerals.

It seeped through my blood and sinew, and even though bone. It settled into the bleeding wound in my soul that refused to heal, the one that had been torn open the first time I called my family after the fallout:

My own mother, the one who promised to love me no matter what life threw, plunged the knife in and twisted it. The last words she ever spoke to me...were a threat to kill me if I ever tried to come back home.

The warmth of Ray and Tess's gift poured into that wound like warm honey -- not healing it, but soothing it for the first time in three years.

Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe the heat in the jewelry was just from their body heat.

But I was sure about one thing:

I wasn't alone anymore.

~ END ~

[imtooscaredforthis]

Antagonist

Chapter Eighteen: Lost

Mentions of: Drug use, Arguments, Fighting, Mild Violence, and Slight Homicidal Tendencies, etc.

A/N: Lots of drama in this chapter…Enjoy!!

Tags: @vandeaad @dead-bxxxtch-walking @mama-miya @moonshineinasippycup @prettycutebunny

You stood in the closet, frozen, while the rest of the legion stared at you. They stared at you for a long couple of seconds that felt like an eternity, before Julie finally moved. She turned to face Frank, glaring at him. “What is she doing here?”

“I have no idea. I don’t even know who that is.” He played dumb, only making things worse. “Bullshit.”

She hissed, grabbing you by the hem of your tank top and pulling you out from the closet. She leaned over and sniffed you, before shoving you away, causing you to stumble backwards slightly.

“You’ve been smoking with her. What the fuck, Frank?” She snapped.

“What’s the big deal? I’m an adult, Jules. I can hang out with whoever I want. And if you’re concerned about cheating or whatever, we’re hardly even friends.”

For some reason, you felt a slight sting at his words. You don’t know why. You’re the one that insisted that you weren’t friends..so why does it hurt? Why do you even care?

She rolled her eyes, groaning to herself. “We’ll talk about this later.” Then she turned to you. “I thought Susie made it clear that we don’t want anything to do with you, you dumb bitch. Stay the fuck away and mind your own buisness.”

You should just agree with her. It would make things so much easier, and maybe you could even get out of here alive..but your anger and pride got in the way.

“I wasn’t even trying to get into your business. Frank was the one who wanted to hang out with me in the first place. And you know what? I don’t blame him. If I was stuck with a psychotic controlling bitch, I’d want to get away too.”

It was quiet for a moment, nothing to be heard but Joey swearing under his breath in fear. Both boys knew that what happened next couldn’t be good, but neither wanted to get in the middle of it. She slapped you across the face, so hard that your cheek turned red. And that was when you decided that this bitch needed to be put down.

You’ve gotten into plenty of fights, no thanks to your awful temper. Most of the time, you’re fighting a guy. Sometimes you win, depending on their physicality. You’ve fought plenty of girls too, so much that it’s practically become second nature.

You shoved her against the wall, punching her jaw and her stomach, making her double over. She was only down for a few seconds, before she stood back up, even more enraged. You moved to hit her, but she grabbed your wrist, digging her nails into your skin, and drawing blood.

“Fucking psycho!” You seethed, tearing your arm from her grip. She grabbed your hair, slamming your head against the wall. “Stay away from my boyfriend and my friends, you stupid slut! Or I’ll fucking kill you!”

She continued smacking and scratching at you, the blows causing your lip to bleed. You tackled her to the ground, straddling her, hitting her hard. You continued punching, and punching, until your knuckles were bloodied, and her face was bruised.

You wanted her to stop. You wanted her to leave you alone. You hated her. You wanted her to die.

The next thing you knew, Frank and Joey were pulling you off of her, shouting at you, asking you what your problem was. “Did you not see what just happened? She attacked me! Fuck you, Frank. Fuck you for putting me in the middle of this. I can’t believe I thought I could trust you. I can’t believe I thought we could be friends.”

You shoved him away and stormed out, your body shaking from the adrenaline. You trudged out to a nearby locker, outside the lodge, taking a seat against it. You panted softly, your hands trembling, and your head throbbing in pain. To your surprise, someone had followed you.

“_______?” It was Susie. Her voice was quiet and concerned. You gazed up at the pinkette. “If you want to yell at me for hurting Julie, get it over with. But your other friends covered it pretty well.”

“I wasn’t going to do that. I…I brought you some ice.” She handed you the pack, letting you press it against your bruised and scratched face.

“Why are you being nice to me? I thought you hated me. And I just tried to kill your friend. I wanted to kill her..Fuck, what’s wrong with me?” You groaned.

“You were just defending yourself. I know Frank and Julie can be manipulative assholes, and I was a jerk too. So, I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to apologize for a while, I just haven’t known how to say it.”

“I’m sorry too. I know you aren’t my sister. You just…you remind me of her so much. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. You’re your own person, and you make your own choices. You choose who you hang out with. You have your own life, and it’s none of my business. I just wanted to look out for you, that’s all.” You admitted.

You were both quiet for a moment, before you spoke again. “So, we’re all good?”

“Yeah, we’re good. You probably shouldn’t come back here again, though.” She remarked, making you laugh. “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Suddenly, Joey called out to Susie, making her freeze and curse under her breath. “I have to go. Do you think you’ll be okay by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine.” You reassured her. While you were mildly disoriented, and pretty sure you had a concussion, you’ve had much worse than this. You would be fine. You needed the time alone to think, anyways.

So, after you said your goodbyes, you headed off to the woods, and back to the campfire. While it was nice to have Susie back, you were still determined to get out of here, and you were going to do it, with or without Frank’s help.

–

You were watching the flames from the campfire flicked hypnotically, deep in thought, when someone approached you. “Are you alright?”

It was Leon, a concerned look dawned upon his handsome features. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’m fine. Just got back from a shitty trial, heh.”

“I can help patch you up, if you’d like.” He offered. “Oh, um, sure. Thanks.”

He popped open a medkit, disinfecting your scratches and putting bandaids on them. He even helped patch up your lip. “So, who was your killer?”

“The legion.” You replied. He let out a huff of empathy and irritation. “They suck.”

“Yeah, they really do.”

“Leon, I need to talk to you.” One of his friends called him. You think his name is Chris? He’s new, but he knows Leon. You heard that they worked together, or something like that.

Chris gave you a small nod, and Leon flashed you an apologetic smile, before moving away. You watched as the two left, before letting out a long sigh. You really do have a lot to think about.

[weaselle]

“i wish i got abused by my parents instead of them wanting the best for me. then i could blame THEM for all my issues TO THEIR FACES MWAHAHAHA instead of just behind their backs on tumblr :( sighh i wish i could say I HATE U GRRRR outloud instead of in my heart :( nooo i wish i had endured violence instead ahrrrgg“

this is a great time to talk about how i handle hate messages

the first thing i want to do here, is i want to extend some sympathy and understanding, and really assume the best about this person, after all, who among us hasn't needed that

so maybe this person was actually physically abused by their parents, and that would be a reason to have a strong reaction to my post, strong enough to make it hard to see what i was trying to communicate, strong enough to be mad at me. And maybe this person is young or has their own mental health issues, which could be a reason they would attack a stranger on the internet like this. Maybe they are simply having the worst day, and this is not an example of their best selves.

So let us assume this human being is lashing out for easy to understand reasons, like from their own pain. An abused person skimming through my post might understandably write this message in response. A young, or incredibly angry, or socially impaired person might hit send on it.

Maybe they were orphaned also, and think i should feel lucky i had real family to adopt me -- they would be right. And i do feel lucky. I have been extraordinarily lucky in that regard.

perhaps they feel wishing that i had been physically abused is an incredibly bad take -- which is very understandable! i would generally agree that as a hot take, that's not great, though wishing emotional damage was physical damage is a fairly normal response to a lot of kinds of emotional trauma actually. Sometimes people even get a disorder that makes them try to transmute their emotional pain to physical pain by hurting themselves. But, yes, saying "i wish i was physically abused by my parents" is insensitive and maybe even antagonistic to say, when one by no means wishes to trivialize the very serious damage physical abuse incurs, both to a person's body and their inner personhood.

Which is why wishing i was physically abused is something i absolutely did not say, because i do not wish that.

What i said was, my adoptive parents messed me up despite being good people who were trying their best, and i sometimes wish my parents' mistreatment of me was purposeful and over-the-top like a fairy-tale, so that i might feel clear anger instead of confused pain. I cited two examples, Matilda and Cinderella, neither of which feature physical abuse.

See, every time i try to undo the knots they tied me up with inside, i can't get around feeling a huge amount of guilt about admitting they damaged me when i know they never meant to and i know how lucky i am, and facing how fucked i am from my childhood feels like being a horrible ungrateful person, but the fact remains that my childhood did fuck me up, and it's confusing and difficult to process.

but there is no point discussing these things with the person who sent this message, because there is no possible purpose in this message beyond causing me pain for their own catharsis. See? There is no call to action, no hanging question, no attempt to recognize the depth of another person's experience, no good faith interaction. It is exactly the same as if they yelled "fuck you!" and left. There is no engagement, this is entirely about them and not me.

Therefore i am not responding to it directly in any particular fashion, merely using it to demonstrate one way to mentally handle receiving this kind of hateful, hurtful message.

I hope this person is well. I hope this person is not deeply haunted by sending this message the way i get when i grow enough as a person to realize my mistakes

i note that they say "TO THEIR FACES MWAHAHAHA instead of just behind their backs on tumblr" while on tumblr using the anon feature, and that strikes me as ironic and humorous.

Humor is a great way to distance yourself from painful emotional reactions to mean messages.

i resist the urge to yell in detail about the real trauma i've suffered in my life, because, again, they don't care about my experiences, they aren't trying to open any kind of dialogue. And i already over-share on here, i don't need to do it angrily!

They are simply lashing out, probably because they are in some kind of pain, past or present. And in many many ways i have, in fact, been very fortunate, and perhaps they have been much less so.

i wish them a better future, full of growth and healing.

because I am also trying to grow and heal. And even if you feel things you are not proud of, it is important to admit to feeling them, and to work on that.

For example, when my mother sent me away to live with her sister, and then was killed a couple years later, I resolved that i would "never let her death be an excuse or a reason for anything negative in my life" because i felt it would make me a worse person to do that, and it would tarnish my love for her.

But the fact is, things like abandonment, and resentment, and anger, and a struggle to see any selfworth... these things do not stop existing just because you refuse to acknowledge them. Actually, refusing to acknowledge them can make them much worse.

So if this was sent by a person who was physically abused but has a similar notion of not letting it be an excuse for anything, i hope they are able to find a more nuanced approach that allows more complete healing, because they are a human being, and deserve peace and wellness.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Hello, how are you doing? I was wondering how do you think Griffin would've reacted to Valtor being badly injured during the Coven days? And what about after she left? I think her feeling would somehow get in the way, he was the man she loved and she simply cannot be blind to his suffering.

Hi! I'm not doing as badly as I feel I am and simultaneously everything sucks so idk how to answer that question. I'm trying not to stress (I had an anxiety attack in the middle of the sidewalk the other day so that wasn't fun) and also completely failing to catch enough shuteye in order for my brain to be able to do something (and to prevent my eyes from dying). Everything is going slow, which is frustrating, but hey, at least it's going... I guess.

Anyway, I'm going to assume that you're the same person from that other ask I got a few days before this because the text is almost word for word. I suppose you can infer from the paragraph above why I didn't get to your questions earlier. I've answered the first half of this ask before here.

As for Griffin's feelings on Valtor getting injured after she's with the Company - it's complicated. If she's the one fighting him, I can kind of see her getting vindictive and wanting to hurt him because she knows that he wants to hurt her as well (not necessarily hurt her physically, but he definitely wants to punish her for betraying him). She kind of blames him for making her want to leave him so she has no problem fighting him tooth and nail even if it means both of them getting injured. But she also knows that no matter how much they hurt each other, she could not bring herself to kill him even if she had the means to do it.

Watching the other Company members fight him is... surreal as much as it is hard. She knows that they have to use every opening they have to hit him and hit him hard because he won't hesitate to do the same. She knows she has to let them do whatever it takes to stop him, because she cannot bring herself to be as decisive. She knows it might mean standing there and watching as they kill him and she's torn. On the one hand, she's aware they will have to kill him to stop him for good but on the other hand, she's relieved every time he proves that that is a practically impossible feat. To top it all off, she has to restrain herself from blasting the other Company members when they fight him. She was watching his back for a long time and the old instincts are still there making it so confusing sometimes, making her ask herself why she's fighting on the side of the Company. Of course, he doesn't help when he's making compelling points about why she shouldn't have left him (such as her having to play nice with politicians that hate her guts when she could have just intimidated them into defeat before while she was still with Valtor).

And then there's the matter of the Ancestral Witches, of course. While I don't believe Valtor would have told her what the deal with them is, Griffin is smart enough to have figured out that he would absolutely not play second fiddle if they didn't have some kind of serious hold on him that he couldn't overcome. Given everything else she knows about them (aka that they are willing to possess their own descendants even if that ends up killing the person once they leave the body), she's reasonably concerned about what will happen to Valtor if the Company starts gaining the upper hand and if they defeat him. She knows that killing him would be a more merciful fate than ending up imprisoning him together with the Ancestral Witches but he makes killing him too hard. In a way she knows that he's sealing his fate because he'll either win the war for the Ancestral Witches and probably be disposed of after he's served his purpose or he'll lose and end up tortured by them for all of eternity when he's making his imprisonment the more easily achievable option. To say that she's worried doesn't quite cover it.

Honestly, I love the idea that Griffin proposed the imprisonment in Omega just to keep Valtor away from the Ancestral Witches. She had to convince Marion and Oritel that trapping him alongside the three witches would increase the chances of them all breaking containment so it's worth it to go out of their way and search for the means to ensure he's kept separated from the Ancestral Witches. Can you imagine his reaction if he learns that she was the architect of his imprisonment in Omega? Would he believe her reasoning and would it matter at all even if he did? Fuck, I don't have time for another idea right now!

[hypervoxel]

List of my in progress fic WIPs because if I share them, then I am more likely to finish them:

Damaged Nerve, the only one I've actually managed to publish anything for.

You know the B99 meme? "I've only had Arlo for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself"? That's Vox with Vark, and I want to see what he does when something does happen to his beloved pet.

Title is from, "absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird," quote. It will eventually be about Vox and Val being unable to stay apart even as they cross so many lines with each other. Val hurts Vox's pet, and Vox still can't stay away from him for long. Vox kills Val and threatens to do it again, and Val still wants him. It's also about Vox being so deranged in ways that aren't just about his relationship with Val. He deserves to get so unhinged while tearing people apart with his bare claws that he starts thinking about how Alastor broadcasted his rampages and Vox could totally do that too (he's better than the Radio Demon and he doesn't miss that old geezer) 🥰 The people he's tearing apart in this case are Exorcists, because he was bound by a Deal to draw them away from the veterinarian stitching up his pet shark.

None of the angels actually permanently die, but Vox did make them look bad on live TV. So, unfortunately, now Vox is getting blamed for the doubling of Exterminations, on top of having to deal with Val and his relationship problems.

Working title: "this was supposed to be about Redemption. it isn't. It Isn't.". I'll probably give it a Bastille lyric, because I'm me.

A rival Overlord seizes the chance to knock The Vees down a peg, publicly. The triumVirate scrambles to maintain their joint reputation as Vox struggles to recover physically and emotionally.

Or: The Vees are given an opportunity for self reflection, realization, and possibly a chance at redemption... They do not take it.

I love a non-con and torture recovery and support fic. You have no idea how much a story about recovery from something horrible means to me. This is... Technically that. Twisted and villainized.

In Hell, power is safety. Overlords can't look weak, can't be beatable. Can't have their rape uploaded online across every platform with memes made about their smashed screen and broken body, screenshots and reuploads from the masses posted faster than their bots could delete it. You get what you deserve, the populace cheers, as Vox gets a taste of every depravity the Vees profit from.

Working title: road trip! road trip!!

What can I say? It's the Vees on a road trip! An exploration of their characters, their dynamics, and of the worldbuilding of Pride. There cannot be only one city.

Working title: "horrifically aphobic"

It's a Vox-centric story, it's always a Vox centric fic for me. Right now this is all just Vibes and Concepts but I am Thinking Constantly about Vox and internalized aphobia and ableism and transphobia. He has all the issues. He externalizes a lot of them too, things don't just stay internal when they are on someone's mind that much. It's part of the reason why Alastor is no longer his friend!

Angel!Vox AU

This will likely just be a one shot. Vox is not actually an angel, but he does have wings! Messy, misshapen things made of wire and shattered glass. He was a televangelist in life, and now the his sins weigh quite literally heavy on his shoulders. Heaven is a constant light above him, always visible in the sky, but his wings are cumbersome things that could never allow him to fly.

He doesn't even realize they are meant to be wings until he sees his reflection. He was always talented at looking good for a camera. If he preens his wings, organizes the mess of cables and glass shards, he can make them look pristine. Purposeful. He can make himself become the beautiful, technological angel he is meant to be. He can make everyone else see him as he should have been. Heaven is forever out of his reach, but no one else needs to know that. And angels here, well, demons are terrified of them. What is more powerful than an angel? Vox can work with that.

Working title: Vees 5+1

It's about Velvette joining the Vees <3 Five times Velvette interrupted VoxVal getting it on, + 1 time she joined them from the start.

Working title: evil AngelVoxVal

As though there's any way for that ship to not be evil, lol

Valentino wants his favorite lovers to join him together for a threesome. Valentino is an expert at getting what he wants.

[the-firebird69]

Watch "Conan the Destroyer (1984) - The Wizard Toth-Amon Scene (5/10) | Movieclips" on YouTube

And swimming went missing and she's here and someone else's someone who died and it's a woman who keeps driving them over here. The man arrested was Jason but this man in the film is Trump and he is this guys that several demons now his mutated and it's his head because his head is mutable and just because the becomes lizard man. Dies. But he did this and then he took Schwarzenegger's body did the Terminator series and exposed tons of stuff and was attacked brutally by the max and the Schwarzenegger's clan and both of them pretty much disappear afterwards and what's down and it's gone shortly after this movie and you see it in a cylinder he was possessed that's where he took his body and it was Trump is hitting his heart by the way. There's a few things that happen while he was governor and Trump vowed revenge and he's yelling at our son and sick well you know you got millions of enemies buddy and they all try and hurt you for real and succeed a lot so you will eventually become the lizard man and it is after the incident with allegiant Air resort and somebody began demolishing it and it is declared to be to fund they hit it pretty good about five places on the back side and it's coming up pretty soon because he's harassing her and it's Brad's girl and they're pretty violent and physical people but he does do it so we have to watch out for him I'll find out our son is violent and he backed off and he sees people who say you don't want to go too close to him because he might punch you never seen him do it and her son says I don't think I've done that and it's not what I mean so he's more afraid of him for the other reason and he feels guilty about what he did my son says that you stopped him and it was Trump and Trump is mad because he figured it out and he figured it out cuz he was blaming Dan and Brad figured that out and all sudden says you're the one that told him he said not really and I thought it was you and you told me but who cares this guy okay somebody agrees he's a huge dick and don't do anything for anyone ruins every day needs to go this movie is important because of that and choice out there because of what they're after and because I'm mocking him he's a goofball you know it's Trump a lot man he mutates and it gets killed and goes after Trump will show you what happens

Thor Freya

He's going to leave soon and it's within a few days and it is because of cesario it starts because of War of the worlds and that begins because of Saint Laurent dropping any terrorizes people in the upper Midwest and he tries to get more ships and they're not up there they're in Jersey

Thor Freya

You say Laurent is down only to about 50 mm but the water is 8 mi from the top from the Xbox to the bottom of the riverbed and the river bed itself has not dropped yet two more miles and it will be dry in other words there is air pressure underneath the river bed and it is filthy clay it does hold the air but the St lyringe is now a couple miles deep and it's applying pressure on this air eventually parts of it will burst it will be down to probably a mile in an hour and in 2 hours it will be down to the bottom and the pressure will probably be 50 MLS but all air and once it starts going It won't stop and there's going to be a mass of my gas and everyone will die and Jason is going to try and get gas masks he needs a special one and he knows which one it is and coconuts

He is laughing so Laura's guns money gas mask and coconuts and he wants him to remake the song and he says no and Goth is going to do it hopefully in time

[skyfall8600]

hi!! i’m absolutely in love with your writing! i was looking through your prompt list and was wondering if you could do 13 and/or 19? 💗💗

Hi! So sorry for the delay, things have been kinda hectic with Uni but I hope you like this! Also, thank you so much for being the first person ever to actually request something from the prompt list.

Main Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist <3

Forever Isn't Long Enough

Warnings: fluff, unrequited love, friends to lovers romance, swearing

Pair: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

[ 1.5k words]

Prompts:

19. “It’s not like I never tried to tell you”

13. “I would have waited forever.”

Unrequited love was total bullshit and you knew it. It was a way for the universe to play the ultimate joke on you; forcing you to be in a one-sided best-friends-to-lovers fairytale nightmare. You blamed yourself really; thinking of Eddie’s flirtatious and kind nature as anything more than just how he interacted with everyone. 

It killed you inside the first time you saw him treat others with the affectionate body language, or using the cute nicknames you thought you were so special for being referred to by him. But, he used them on every other girl or cute person he talked to. And fuck did it hurt. 

You tried to ignore it, knowing that your feelings were silly and not returned. You wanted to settle for just being his friend, you really tried. You thought that perhaps, if you expressed how you felt subtly around him, then you would be able to gage if he did see you differently to anyone else. 

You tested out the waters with very small acts of physical affection. Hugging him differently to how you used to, sitting closer to him at lunch so that your thighs were practically on top of each other. You graced your hand along his tattooed arm, linger a finger to trace them. 

All to which had no effect on him. 

You slumped your shoulders down, unable to participate in the game since your D&D character died the week before. So you sat there, watching everyone else. You didn’t try to hide the sadness in your face; knowing that the excuse of being dead was a good enough cover up for the true reason why you felt this way. 

But Eddie noticed. He always noticed when you were sad; so he made a mental note to check up on you after the game ended and once everyone else went home. He promised to give you a ride back home tonight, since your car was currently in the shop. 

“You ready to go Sweets?” He asked you with a smile, hoping that the term of endearment would cheer you up. He hated seeing you look so sad. 

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah sure, let’s go.” 

You were blunt, which wounded him. “You okay princess? Not used to you being so…” he trailed off, afraid that using the wrong could make things worse, “...gloomy.” 

You snorted, still keeping your eyes away from his. You didn’t bother answering, instead following him to the van in silence. 

The silent treatment was not what he was expecting tonight. He planned everything out in his head; finally trying to act on his emotions and tell you how he felt. It ate him up inside, noticing how much closer you seemed to get with him, and he adored every second of it. But he was beyond terrified that he read the signals wrong, that you were just returning his level of physical contact. 

“Come on, seriously love. You can tell me if there’s something wrong, has the cheerleaders been making fun of you again? Cause I can cut them off from my supplies for a few weeks to make them suffer–”

“Just leave it, Eddie.” You practically spat out. 

You never spoke to him like that before. It made him hesitate turning on the engine to the van, instead shifting so he faced you in the passenger seat. 

He saw that you were fighting back tears, and it finally made him crack. “Tell me what’s wrong, now.” 

His voice was stern, it made a shiver run down your spine. “I’ll get over it, please just drop it.” 

“No, if its bothering you this badly, I want to know. Come on, Angel–”

“Stop with the goddamn nicknames already!” You interrupted him, “Angel, love, princess, sweets, sweetheart– I’m fucking sick of it!” 

His eyes widened, pain fueling him like an imaginary dagger had just been plunged into his heart. 

“But– but I’ve always called you those.” He said, his voice breaking slightly. 

“Yeah, and along with half the female population….. Just please drive me home Eddie.” The tears were no longer containing in your eyes, finally springing free. 

Your words lingered in his mind. “You– I call other people that? Really?” 

He didn’t know how he failed to realise that his little names for you had been repeated to others. Before he met you, he never referred to anyone as anything other than their names. But you… you made him feel beyond happy and he couldn’t imagine calling you by the same thing as everyone else did, he loved your name but those nicknames for you were purely his to say. He got so used to saying them to you, that they seemed to roll of his tongue whenever he spoke to anyone now. 

“God that makes it worse than you didn’t even notice.” You cried, wiping away at your wet cheeks. “Start the fucking car Eddie.” 

“No.”

“Eddie–”

“No, listen to me.” He said, moving so that he held your shoulders in his hands. “I never meant to call anyone else that, they were only meant for you… I’m beyond mortified, please–”

“Like it matters. You’re always like this with others, I was stupid to think it meant anything or that you felt the same way.” The words slipped out, and you didn’t care. You didn’t care if it ruined things between the two of you, or if it meant you’d have to live the rest of your life with the rejection that was about to come. 

He studied your face, “Meant anything? Sweetheart, you mean everything to me.” 

You shook your head, trying to remove yourself from his grasp but he only changed his position so he was instead cupping your face. 

“Look at me, please honey.” He tried to guide your eyes to meet his big brown ones, “This is not how I planned to confess this…. Fuck I– wait… did you ask if I felt the same?” 

His head was floating like he was on cloud nine, he had been so worked up that the little confession you made seemed to pass right through his head. 

You whined, embarrassed. “Eddie just forget it and drive me home.” 

“Sweetheart, are you saying that you like me? As in like like me?” He couldn’t believe it was all playing out this way. 

“It’s not like I never tried to tell you.” You said, your voice barely higher than a soft whisper. “I tried telling you, showing you…. But you still treated me like everyone else, I get it, Eddie, that’s just how you are and I shouldn’t have assumed it meant anything.” 

He laughed and your heart shattered into a million pieces. You just confessed you liked him; didn’t even get the chance to admit that you were actually madly in love with him, and he fucking laughed right in your face. 

You forcibly removed yourself from his hold, trying to get out the van as quick as possible. 

His mind caught up with his nervous laughter, “Wait shit– no hold on!” 

You slammed the door shut, willing to walk all the way home in the total darkness of night. 

“I laughed because I’m in love with you and THIS is not how I planned to tell you!” He screamed, scrambling to his feet to run after you. You stopped dead in your tracks. 

“You what?” 

“I planned on telling you next week… made a reservation and everything.” He said breathlessly, “You mean everything to me, and I think I’ve loved you ever since we really became friends, and I started to get so nervous when you got physically closer to me… it was like my entire brain just short-circuited— fuck it took all the strength I had to not kiss you in front of everyone, because you deserve better than that.” 

“You love me?” You asked, your voice shaky. 

He nodded, “I’m so sorry for making you feel like you were just like everyone else to me, I’m more sorry that it took me so long to get the nerve to actually tell you.” 

“You love me…” You sounded like a broken record, frozen in a state of shock. 

His smile returned to his face as he continued to nod his head, placing you back into his arms. “I love you, I am so madly in love with you….” 

You finally cracked a smile in disbelief, “I love you too, god… I was so scared you didn’t feel the same.” 

He shook his head placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head, “I’ve loved you for so fucking long I can’t imagine life without you, but I didn’t know if you felt the same… I just knew I would have waited forever for you.” 

The tears that escaped your eyes held a different meaning to the ones before. You looked up at him, matched with an equal amount of fear, relief and love in his eyes. 

He swiped his thumbs over your cheeks, constantly repeating the words you were so desperate for him to say to you. 

You seized the opportunity to jump up, connecting your lips with his. Not caring about how salty your tears tasted on your lips, you melted into his embrace. You finally felt as ease when he returned the kiss with gentle slow movements. 

It felt like home.

_____________________________________________________________

Eddie Munson Taglist:

@fentyreligion @littlelunarfox @coconutchumby @eempxth @superflannel @fluffycookies22 @yearwalker96 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @grungegrrrl @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @dixontardis @buckyslwts @bratckerman @dani-d0rk @musicmoviestv @tomshelbystits @reddisteddie @ungracefularchimedes @santaatemypuppy @cherryrevenger @chipster-21

[forbidding-souda]

If its ok and if your requests are open could you possibly do The remnants (of your choice) reacting to a Future Foundation s/o climbing up onto their back.

Remnant Gundham Tanaka, Peko Pekoyama, Izuru Kamukura reacting to their Future Foundation S/O climbing onto their back

also idk if they have like strict fanon personalities outside of izuru so these are just how i assume they be acting

i put my entire pussy into the gundham one btw - he was my favorite fictional character in liike 6th grade sigh

-Mod Souda

Gundham Tanaka

❤ He's not threatened by you at all. He does not mind the fact that you are from the Future Foundation, and originally, he did not care about you approaching him at all - you looked so submissive, so helpless that he found no amusement in even sending animal aggressions towards you. And you managed to get close to him. When you first walked up to him, he had his back turned, to which his snake had gave off a warning hiss, and he turned around with open eyes, looking at you with surprise. He did not say anything, not then, not ever.

❤ He had just... never tried to hurt you. It put a weird sense of security - a hope of rehabilitation. He has enough returning morals and self-awareness to know not to harm you, does that mean he consciously harms everyone else? That it's not in his hypnotic programming to kill everything he sees? Despite the pillage and murder, you find yourself blushing around him. He thinks you're special. It flatters you.

❤ He is not rather affectionate. The most physical touch you will get out of him is when he leans his head against you, nuzzling into your body like a deer. You don't kiss him on the lips, just because you're genuinely concerned about him biting you, as he bites you when you try to hug him. But he seems to rather enjoy kisses on the cheek.

Once his snake unwraps itself from his body, slithering down his leg and onto the asphalt below, you take it as your opportunity. You place your hands on his shoulders under his scarf, gripping onto him as you hoist yourself up his body. He lurches forward, a quick groan of annoyance leaving his throat, quite frankly one of the only noises you've ever heard him make.

For a second, he doesn't move. He just awkwardly stands there while you wrap your arms around his neck, your thighs pressed into his sides.

Then he starts walking. You lift your head up, looking past his shoulder to see where he is heading. Being around his den relieves some of your nerves, as you know there is no, say, body of water around for him to launch you into. But with his arms tied around himself, maybe you don't have to worry about that.

He ends up walking over to his animals and you watch as he kicks over their food, feeding them as if you weren't even attached to him. Outside of the occasional giggles in his ear, you don't make your presence extremely known. You only hop off when it becomes too tiring to hold yourself up on him.

"You're very warm. I can feel your body heat through that jacket of yours." You tell him, standing by his side as he watches his animals feed, resting your head on his bicep. He leans into your touch. For a second, he turns his head to look down at you. But he turns back before you can notice.

❤ He does not like having his arms untied - but he will let you release him. When his arms are free he spends most of the time petting his animals - you expected nothing less, though you would rather him pet you instead.

❤ Which, with his arms free, he puts his hand on the top of your head a lot. Not even patting or caressing. Just having his palm on the top of your head before removing it and walking away.

.

Peko Pekoyama

❤ She won't let you get near Fuyuhiko, and that's her only boundary. The only times she has tried to hurt you was when your team had tried to detain them, to which she blamed you, but she has never been beyond reasoning and you can use your words to calm her. She doesn't like it when you approach her in your formal-wear. She will pull a sword to you - pressing it to your chest when you get too close, though, she would never actually kill you (hurt you, yes). She will only let you near her if you are in your everyday clothes, alone, and when Fuyuhiko is not near.

At the sound of someone approaching, she puts a hand on her sword. But she has already memorized the sound of your steps. Before she even turns to see you, her hand drops.

But her eyes widen when she feels you touching her shoulders. And then you jump, and on an instinct, she catches your thighs, holding you there before she even realized she was.

The sound of your laughter brings her back to reality. She drops your legs, putting all the weight on your arms, where you slip and land back on the floor.

"Come on, you know you liked it." You say when she turns around to look at you. She glares at you from behind her glasses, though her heart is beating considerably faster than usual.

"No." And she shimmies away when you try to touch her again.

❤ She never touches you. If the two of you sleep near each other, she will wake you up at around 5 am - the time she usually wakes up, with a hairbrush and stand there with it offered to you until you take it. She likes it when you brush her hair. She will even give you the hair tie to do her little side ponytail - unless you don't know how to, and she will grunt and push you away to do it herself.

❤ The only kissing she will give you is neck kissing - and if you try to give her any affection she is pushing you away by the forehead.

❤ She doesn't like to be too far from Fuyuhiko, though, she would rather the two of you not interact in any way, so if he comes around the corner while the two of you are together then she will dunk you into the nearest garbage can or push you through a random doorway.

❤ (Something positive is - whenever you need help, like if a kuma is trying to get you, you can just scream for her and she will come to your call).

.

Izuru Kamukura

❤ He lets you touch him more than he would like. In his mind, he is sheltered off from you and he has you at the perfect distance. But whenever you come around in your darling formal attire and put your hands on him he can't find it within himself to push you away. He wants you to touch him - but he can't place as to why. The only touch he will initiate is placing his hand on your back, or grabbing the back of your neck when he wants you to look at him. Sometimes you feel as if he is completely devoid of love for you - and when you do, you try and kiss him, to which he grabs your cheeks with one hand and groans against your lips, sucking on your tongue and keeping you flustered against his mouth.

You yawn, and when you step closer to him he already knows what you're going to do. The moment you place a hand on his shoulder he bends his knees, something you don't even realize in your sleepy haze, letting it be easier when you climb up on his back. He does a small hop, fixing his fingers under the curve of your knee as he starts walking.

"Thank you," and a mumble leaves your lips, a word he assumes to be a petname of some sort.

"Yes." He says with no point. "...You are welcome."

❤ Sometimes you find him in your house - where you wonder how he even got in, as the Future Foundation makes sure to have their high employees resting in the same walls. When he senses your stress he will work your tie with his hands, undressing you with no sexual intention, telling you to calm down. You'll sigh. "Yeah, yeah."

❤ When you first encountered him in this state, he had lingered his eyes on you, something that unsettled you at first. But now, in nights where he rests his head on your chest - where he lays awake on your beating heart, you wonder if he predicted this entire thing. With that, you wonder if he initiated this relationship on purpose - if something for the greater good will come from it, else, he just needed somebody to care for in general.

❤ If you climb on him more than once, he will add to your little profile in his head that you like being lifted by him - where he will start picking you up when you get even a bit tired, or throwing you over his shoulder when he wants to bring you to a secondary location without any issue. You know better than to try and wiggle from his grasp (though you are incredibly nervous that another Future Foundation member will see this and think of it as him threatening your life).

❤ Naegi figured out the relationship between you two, and he'll ask about Izuru whenever he finds you alone.

❤ You wonder if he is just pretending to care to get information on the Remnants.

❤ When you tell Izuru about it, he assures you that that is not the case, to which you nod - understanding that he always knows the truth.

[darklove9314-blog]

You know I’m just going to say it, I hate when people act like everyone around Rhys is the epitome of perfection and then invalidates others feelings about him because they think they haven’t read past the first book (As if the first book wasn’t reason enough to to hate his character) so let’s look what Rhys has realistically done in canon shall we.

ACOTAR- Went into Feyre’s mind without her consent scaring her so much that she wet herself, SA’ed Feyre, Dr*gged Feyre, twisted the bone in Feyre’s broken arm, made a bargain with Feyre not telling her that there would be a permanent tattoo on her body, kissed Feyre without consent. Made Feyre dance until she vomited, left Feyre in an outfit that barely in a cold cell, had daemati powers yet doesn’t use them to communicate with anyone, taunts Lucien using his mother.

ACOMAF- Steals from Tarquin, calls himself the best high lord even though he has two misogynistic men in a position of power, tells Feyre not to compare him to Tamlin even though he has also canonically abused her (UTM), withholds information about the mating bond from her, tells Feyre that it’ll be a while until he could look at her sisters without wanting to roar at them yet never once in the entirety of the series does he blame their father.

ACOWAR- Makes Nesta physically sick when flying with her, tries to have sex with Feyre in a library for SA surviors, has sex in a tent while their are people dying, shocked when people don’t easily trust him after he’s kept up a facade for 50 years, makes a deal with Mor’s ab*ser,

ACOFAS- tells Feyre that “Elain is Elain” but says that he can never forgive Nesta even though Feure herself said that Nesta had done enough to make up for it, says he can’t forgive people who have hurt her when he himself has hurt Feyre, decides to put more money into building another home instead of using it to help rebuild his court from the affects of the war.

ACOSF- Threatens to fight Nesta who is not in the right mental state due to her war PTSD, has to be told by his significantly younger mate to either shut up or get out if he’s not going to act properly, destroys Nesta’s safe space so she has no where else to go, had previous information about how dangerous it could be for Feyre to have a baby with wings way before even conceiving Nyx (which should have been brought up before or during their trying for him, even if it was a small percentage Feyre still had a right to know prior to conception), hid pivotal medical information from Feyre about the safety of her and their child and told everyone else not to tell her too, gets mad and threatens Nesta’s life when she tells Feyre about the baby even though the whole situation could have been avoided if he had just told Feyre the truth in the first place.

And that was all I could remember off the top of my head. I’m sure there are more than this. But overall Rhys has done a lot of horrible stuff in this series and I hate how he’s portrayed as this great guy who can do no wrong and how some people will blame his actions on unreliable narration in ACOSF when most of the things I got mad at Rhys about were also in Cassian’s POV. So stop saying it’s character bias when he’s done a lot of things prior to ACOSF. It’s just beyond frustrating at this point

[221bshrlocked]

sweaty hands, reluctant hearts

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader

Words: 13685 (god this wasn’t supposed to be this long I’m actually sorry this time)

Warnings: Angst and Smut (my fav). Hurt/Jealous Mando -> Touch Starved/Rough Mando -> Fluffy Mando -> Shy Mando. Penetrative Sex. Oral Sex. There’s lot’s of sweat because exertion yall. Breeding Kink 😏. Slight Exhibitionism. Overstimulation and slight slight non-con because of oversensitivity. Umm, squirting 🙃. Dirty/Sweet talk. Spanking (ass and hoohaa).

Summary: He never thought the day would come when he’d hear you saying you wanted to leave him. Yes there was an understanding between the two of you that you were hired to help him care for the Child and to somehow keep the Razor Crest alive and working. And he knew it made sense for you to find work elsewhere now that the Razor Crest was destroyed and the Child was with his own kind. But he just assumed you weren’t going to leave considering it’s been a couple of months since he’d given the kid to the Jedi and you never brought it up. It hurt hearing you say those words, especially when he realized he wasn’t meant to hear them and that you were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people. Turns out, all Mando needed was to see the Marshal eye-fucking you as you fixed the new ship and overshared your thoughts for him to snap and finally make a move. Hopefully he can change your mind...

A/N: Yall, this is post Season 2 so sadly Grogu is not here, hence the angst! Umm, this was a lot to handle because you know, that gif here. Enjoy ☺️

It’s been months since the events that transpired on the cruiser. Months since he’d given away a piece of himself to an unknown being. Months since he’d sat down and re-evaluated his life’s mission. He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen to return to Tatooine of all planets but he needed some time to think of his next steps. So much has changed over the course of the past year and it took the Mandalorian longer than usual to realize that he can’t use bounty hunting to fill the void in his heart. 

One thing he did know for sure, however, was that he couldn’t have managed to survive the emotional and physical changes without your presence. Somehow, you’ve managed to make his life easier and by a whole lot. He has never felt this grateful for having a companion, maker, didn’t even think it possible to ever consider another as such. He’d spent years and years living by the Creed and never once doubting his way of living, but he found himself questioning everything about himself when you came in. It wasn’t that he was suddenly open to the idea of taking his helmet off or anything, it was more of a passing thought on what it would be like if he were to open up to you more, perhaps even share with you more than his name and an abridged version of how he became a Mandalorian. 

He mulled over how he would approach the topic with you, finding himself growing more nervous when he considered how you’d react. You’ve never given him any inclination of ever thinking of him as more than your boss and he knew he needed to figure out a way to make this seem natural and not forced. Frankly, he found it interesting how you managed to read him better than anyone he’s ever met, and he wished he could ask you how you’d done so when he never took off his helmet. 

Mando pushed the thought aside for now, cursing to himself as he dragged the giant piece of scrap you’d requested for him to pick up from Peli. He wanted to argue with you then, tell you that the only reason for coming to this awfully hot planet was to take some time off, if that was even possible, and avoid falling into the temptation of another mission. But he couldn’t find it in himself to say any of these things, mostly because you were the one that managed to procure the new ship for him and you were also the one that told him the two of you were in serious need of rest. He’d only realized the ship needed fixing when he landed and you told him you would get right on as soon as he picked up the necessary pieces from Peli. He felt a little out of the loop when he’d gone to her and found her giving him everything you’d requested for, and he knew you must have contacted her before you landed or else she wouldn’t have been this quick. 

As he made his way through the quiet “streets” of Mos Pelgo, he thought back to what Peli said to him an hour ago. Had he not considered her as a friend, he would have responded rudely when she bugged him about you. As much as he wished to humor the idea that you looked at him as more than a colleague, partner, whatever it was the two of you were, he didn’t want to grow any more false hope, especially now that he’d already given up the one thing that managed to crawl into his heart. 

Mando saw that you’d moved the ship behind the cantina and he chose to blame the heat for the way his skin crawled with goosebumps because no, he didn’t suddenly feel calm at the thought of you. 

He shook his head from the intruding thought and was about to say something to you when he saw who was standing nearby. If there was ever a time where he didn’t wish to see Cobb Vanth, it was definitely now. The bounty hunter put down the scraps of metal before moving closer to where the two of you were standing. He was sheltered behind a shack of sorts and allowed his heart rate to return to normal before listening in on you. 

“I don’t believe you sweetheart.” The Marshal threw back his drink and shook his head when you shrugged your shoulders at him and Mando felt his stomach twist at the endearment. Since when were the two of you on such a close basis?

“Believe whatever you want Marshal, I was only answering your question. Besides, it’s not like I’m actively looking right now.” Mando watched as you swiped the sweat rolling down your face with the back of your hand and swore when he felt the fabric of his pants grow tighter around his crotch. He felt dirty watching your every move, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the way your muscles gleamed under the excruciating sun rays. He cursed the day you bought that garment and he recalled back to the first time he watched you work in it. Mando had almost tripped over the child that day because he never expected to see you walking around with the chest binding so visible to his eyes. It was worse when you reached up high for something because if his eyes lingered long enough, he could see your undergarment peeking from the low-hanging pants of the overalls. 

The bounty hunter had to take a few deep breaths to move on from the inappropriate thoughts he was having and he narrowed his eyes at Cobb when he saw him walk closer to you. 

“Are you ever going to tell him?” The Mandalorian watched as your expression shifted slowly to a more sombre look and he was familiar enough with you to know that you weren’t too happy with that question or the answer you were going to give Cobb. 

“I- I don’t know. I wish I could tell him about how I fe- what I’m thinking about but I can’t...and I also can’t just say ‘Hey Mando, I had a blast taking care of the kid and getting hunted by the kriffing Empire. I fixed the ship for you so see you later.’ It’s not right and I didn’t realize it would be this difficult to come to terms with what I have to do. But I can’t keep doing this, it’s not fair.” 

Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, that certainly didn’t make the top of the list. He almost fell back when he registered the meaning behind your words. You wanted to leave. You’ve been wanting to move on for a while and you weren’t sure how to tell him. You were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people and relying on his opinion to decide what you were going to do. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind and he tried to see if he’d done anything wrong. Besides the whole thing with Gideon and Bo Katana, there wasn’t really anything he’d done that would inspire such a reaction from you. Not that those weren’t enough to change your mind about staying with him but it was all in the past now. 

The sound of laughter broke Mando out of his haze and he turned towards you again, watching as you slithered down the ship, clenching his fists tightly when he saw Cobb grab your hips to help you down. He was torn between strutting towards the two of you and punching the daylights out of him and remaining where he was to listen in on your conversation. He had no right to do either, but he needed to know.

“I hate to ask you this question because it defeats the whole purpose of this entire chat but...have you thought of how he’d take it? Should you decide on-” You pointed to something on the floor and Cobb leaned down to grab it for you, handing it and gauging your reaction to his question as you continued to work. 

“Why else do you think I’ve been putting this off? Of course I’ve thought of how he’d react. But I deserve more than...ugh, I don’t mind this, I swear I don’t, but I also can’t just sit back and pretend I don’t want more.” You motioned violently to the ship and to what you were doing as you spoke, shaking your head at the man smiling smugly in front of you before throwing out the tools and snatching his drink from him. 

Mando couldn’t stand to be near you, not after what he’d heard and certainly not after taking in your body language and the way Cobb was practically undressing you without shame. He stepped back, leaving the scraps where they were and heading to the cantina to take his mind off of what he’d just witnessed. He walked in and paid no mind to the patrons scattered across the room, handing the man behind the counter more credits than he cared to count and asking him for his strongest stuff. He didn’t bother to address the judgmental stare he was receiving and took hold of the bottle before walking out again. 

It was close to sunset and the Mandalorian walked until the edge of the town before deciding to continue until he reached a small hill filled with large boulders. Sliding down one of the rocks, he sighed deeply before taking off his helmet, the hissing sound instilling a sense of guilt deep in his chest. He was ashamed at feeling such an emotion towards what he based his entire life on. But he couldn’t take it anymore. His anger rose as he opened the large bottle in his hand, throwing it back until he felt the stinging drink burn his throat for a few seconds before aggressively setting it on the floor next to him. 

Mando wasn’t able to put what he was feeling into a proper string of thoughts but he did know it was an odd mixture of hurt and anger with a tiny bit of sexual frustration. He couldn’t get the image of you sweaty and heaving as you worked on his ship out of his mind, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back to meditate back on the way your muscles clenched and pulled every time you molded two metal scraps together or how they positively shined when you carried things across the sand. He’d tried his hardest to set all of these feelings and rather inappropriate thoughts aside but he couldn’t any longer. Not when there was a chance of you leaving him, and perhaps to someone like the Marshal too. 

Perhaps it was unwise to deny his heart’s desires for so long and Mando was sure that he’d met his breaking point because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Normally, he was able to distract himself and force his mind to stray away from conjuring up the filthiest images of you wreathing and crying beneath him as he drove his cock into your heat. But he had no hold over his mind at this moment, not that he was to blame. He went from shutting his own self out to opening the floodgates, and there was no going back. 

He sighed heavily when his thoughts shifted to what you said about him and he took a long sip from the bottle before turning his attention to the setting suns. He didn’t know what he could even say if you ever approached the topic with him. You’d been wanting to leave for a while now and somehow managed to hide it from him. All those nights spent running from Moff Gideon and other bounty hunters and you haven’t complained once, choosing to keep it to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was hurt because you felt the need to hide something like this from him or because you were awfully understanding of how these complaints could distract him. 

And then there was the whole thing with the ship. He had assumed that the two of you sort of shared it now but it seemed that you never saw it as belonging to you but only to him. And you went out of your way to fix it now when you didn’t have to. Mando didn’t notice his tears until he licked his drying lips and tasted the saltiness across his mouth. He wiped his cheeks and laughed at himself. When had he become like this? First it was the child and now you. 

He wished he could take it all back, to have never met the kid or you. His life was simple and not complicated and now, now he was faced with the prospect of losing you as well. The bounty hunter dismissed the thought as quickly as it came because he knew deep down that it was better to have had the two of you in his life, even for a short while, than to have never known you. It wasn’t ideal but since when was his life ideal?

As the suns set beneath the sky, the Mandalorian looked down and saw that the bottle was still almost full. Not wanting to finish it now, because he might actually need it later when you decide to leave, Mando stood up and slowly made his way back into town. He needed to sleep, not to rest but to put a pause on his rather depressing thoughts if only for a little bit. When he saw the town come into view, he took a deep breath and put his helmet back on. 

The town was quieter than usual and the Mandalorian found himself going straight to the ship instead of joining the others. He’d spent the past few days enjoying his nights in the corner of the busy cantina, watching as you won one Sabacc game after another without breaking a sweat while everyone groaned in annoyance at how well you were kicking their asses. But he couldn’t trust himself tonight, not around you and certainly not around the Marshal. 

Trying not to bring too much attention to himself, Mando walked past the cantina towards the ship, already thinking of how relieved he’d be once he used the refresher. Going up the ramp, he was about to walk to the small, private room near the cockpit to grab a change of clothes when he heard a loud shriek that sounded a lot like his name coming from the opposite end of the ship. Mando quickly turned around and shut his eyes in exasperation when he saw you approaching him far angrier than he’d ever seen you. He set the bottle down and turned his attention towards you, raising an eyebrow to himself when he saw your chest heaving beneath the chest band. He averted his eyes quickly, refusing to think of you sweaty and breathless under other circumstances. Maker, he couldn’t go no like this.

“Where in the kriffing hell have you been? You were supposed to bring the parts from Peli hours ago and I have to find out from some kid that you just left them on the ground and walked away to- hell, I don’t even know what was more important for you than bringing me the scraps so I could fix the ship? Really, Mando, I understand that it’s been a little weird and difficult lately but I barely ask for anything and, ugh, maker.” You held back from voicing more of your thoughts, afraid that you’ve already gone far with asking him where he was. He didn’t really need to tell you what his business was but you’d assumed the two of you have come to an understanding regarding such matters, at the very least to ensure everyone’s safety. 

Mando stood there in silence and took a deep breath before turning around and walking into his room, afraid he’d give himself away if he tried to respond to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration when he quietly walked away from you, anger rising in your chest as he came out and made his way past you to the refresher. Before you could think twice of what you were doing, you were sprinting past him and standing in front of the open door, pushing your fingers into his beskar-clad chest as you hissed at him.

“I’m not sure what happened or why you’re giving me the silent treatment right now but this is not how we deal with our problems okay.” Mando took a few steps back as you continued to shove your finger into him, trying his hardest to not grab your wrist and push you against the nearest wall. “We talk things out and we come up with a way to fix things and compromise if need be.” Mando’s back hit the wall, and he threw his head back to avoid your gaze, unable to hold back the chuckle that rose from beneath the helmet at your words. 

How ironic.

“Did I say something funny?” You narrowed your eyes up at him and wished for once that he’d remove that god damn helmet so you could gauge his reaction.

“You mean we should talk things out like you and Cobb Vanth today? Or would it be different?” Mando’s chest tightened when he noticed the surprised expression on your face, knowing very well this was not what you expected to hear from him. He was a rational man, never once letting his mind give away to such simplistic thoughts but you’d struck a nerve and he could no longer hide his jealousy. Yes, it was jealousy. As much as he hated to admit it, that’s what he was feeling right now, what he’s been feeling all day long. It was childish and unlike him but it wasn’t going to do him any good if he continued to ignore it. 

“I’m dying to know if that’s what you mean. You obviously don’t have an issue telling him about how difficult it’s been working with me and how you can’t keep doing this.” It was your turn to take a few steps back when you saw his shoulders push out and make him taller than he already was. He continued to walk towards you, throwing his clothes to the ground and almost apologizing when you tripped on your feet when he was only a foot away from you.

“How about this, let’s start with what you apparently wish you could tell me but can’t seem to find the right words to do so. What was it you said to him? You deserve more than taking care of a kid and constantly escaping the Empire and other bounty hunters? Or wait, how can I forget...it’s not fair dealing with this mess of a ship and you’re looking for somewhere else to go?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as the Mandalorian repeated back the words you voiced perhaps a little too loudly earlier today, already feeling your eyes fill with unshed tears at harsh his tone. 

“I- I didn’t…you weren’t meant to-” You tripped over your words and almost flinched when he cut you off. 

“What? I wasn’t supposed to hear you say any of those things? A little strange don’t you think, since you seemed to have a lot to say about me to the Marshal.” Mando should have stopped himself from saying the next few words but his heart was torn into a million pieces and it wasn’t fair for him either.

“Well guess what, sweetheart, the Razor Crest blew up. Moff Gideon is taken care of and the Empire isn’t after us anymore. Every bounty hunter knows better than to so much as look at me and...and the kid isn’t around anymore for you to take care of. He’s gone, I lost him. So if you were worried about hurting me, you’re a little too late for that.” The Mandalorian barely held himself back from pulling you into his arms when he saw tears rolling down your cheek, clenching his fists tightly when he noticed the way you hugged yourself and frowned at him.

“Din-” It broke him to hear you use his name, especially now of all times. He hasn’t heard you say it once in the past few months, even when the two of you were alone. It was the twisting of the knife, and he bit his tongue to distract himself from saying something he couldn’t possibly take back.

“Do what you want, I won’t stand in the way. Besides, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to help you out with whatever it was you were telling him today. After all, you deserve more right? Deserve someone more than me...someone who’s willing to share a lot more than his name.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Mando stepped away and walked back to his room, not caring about the clothes on the ground or how hurt you must have been feeling from listening to him. 

He softly shut the door behind him and moved to his bed, throwing himself on it and hanging his head low to catch his breath. This was not how he saw the night going, not remotely. He was hoping to ask you about this tomorrow in a less hostile manner and without making it seem like he was blaming you. But something about your words struck a nerve in him and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, not when you were suggesting things you yourself weren’t willing to follow.

Din wasn’t sure how long he sat there in silence but the hissing sound of the door opening brought him back from his haze and he opened his eyes when he heard you walking towards him. You’d never once come into his room, not even when he occasionally gave you permission. You sniffed twice before approaching the bed and standing right in front of him and he was reminded of when the child would cry to try to catch his attention. 

“Din, it was never my intention to hurt you. I was trying to do the opposite..thought I was doing the right thing by thinking about this before I could talk to you but I’m realizing now that I’ve hurt you.” Din noticed the way you were ringing your fingers nervously and held himself back from taking your hands into his to try and put you at ease. 

“I- I only spoke with Cobb because he- because he noticed the way I was looking at you. He noticed how I can never seem to focus on anything or anyone else when you’re around. He- he could tell I was having a hard time coming to terms with how I feel about you...how I’ve felt about you for a while now.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your confessions, unable to properly register what you were implying because he could never even humor the idea that you’d have feelings for him. He raised his head and finally looked at you, frowning when he saw how red your eyes were from crying. 

“The last thing I want to do is to leave you, please believe me. But I wasn’t sure if you even wanted me around after...after everything with Moff Gideon and the Jedi. As far as I knew, you brought me on to take care of Grogu and fix the Razor Crest. We’ve barely spoken ever since the cruiser and I just thought that I was only around because you couldn’t find the time to tell me that you don’t need me anymore.” Hearing you say that you thought he didn’t need you caught Din off guard and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, instantly taking hold of your hands and pulling you towards him until you were standing in between his legs. You swallowed the lump in your throat and maintained your gaze on his visor, hoping that he could see how truthful you were being with him and maybe respond, if only with just a simple word. 

“When I said I deserved more, I was just- I swear I wasn’t talking about your Creed or wanting to see you. As much as I wish that was possible, I would never...could never ask you for something like that. I was only telling him that I might need some time away to maybe forget how...maker, to perhaps try and set aside my emotions because the last thing you need right now is for me to lay that on you. I don’t want you to think that you owe me anything because you don’t, gods you don’t owe anyone anything, not after what you’ve been through. But I could feel myself becoming more attached to you, especially after everything that happened on the cruiser. I want more with you but I don’t want to push you towards anything you’re not ready for.” Before you could wipe the tears away from your cheeks, Din was raising his glove-covered fingers and softly skimming them over your skin, and he hadn’t realized how harsh and loud his breathing was until he felt you rest your hand on his chest.

“There’s nothing between me and Cobb. And you should know by now that he’s...friendly, with everyone.” You smiled shyly at him before leaning into the hand resting on your cheek, nuzzling further into his palm when he swiped his thumb against your lower lip. There was so much Din wanted to say but he couldn’t find the right words that would convey what he was feeling. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind about your admission and the fact that you have been returning his affection for a while now. 

Din didn’t realize how long he was quiet until you cleared your throat and let go of his hand, stepping away from him and looking around to see if you should just leave. Before you could head to the door, however, Din was standing up and moving towards you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort before he made his next move. Your chest was rising and falling a little quicker than he liked but he quickly realized it was probably because of how you were coming to terms with what you just said to him. 

You watched as he took his gloves off and set them on the small table behind you, suppressing a gasp when you felt his warm, calloused hands wrap around yours before bringing them to his helmet. He could tell you were letting him control all of your movements and found it difficult to accept just how much you were willing to give to him.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I have been thinking about this for a while.” Din smiled when he saw your eyebrows furrow in question at his words. “Taking this off.” He saw the moment you understood what he was saying, not expecting you to pull your hands away from him and taking a few steps back until your back was against the wall.

“That’s...that’s not what I- Din, I wasn’t lying when I said it wouldn’t matter to me if-” He smiled at how defensive you suddenly were and stepped towards you once more, and you found it annoying that he barely kept a foot between you two, his natural scent hitting you like a blaster to the gut. 

“I know.” Din cut you off before taking your hands into his once more, rubbing your knuckles to put you at ease as he continued. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this and- it’s not that I’ll walk around without it now, far from it. It’ll only be when we’re alone, when no one is around.” He hoped you could read in between the lines because this would be the closest he’d come to admitting how important you were to him, for now at least.

“Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” 

That definitely snapped you out of your haze and you tilted your head to the side before asking home what he was referring to. 

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Din raised an eyebrow at your response. Have you already forgotten?

“On the cruiser, when I- before Grogu went with the Jedi.” His hands tightened around your fingers as he said the child’s name and you were momentarily distracted before realizing what he meant. 

“Din I...I never saw you.” 

For a split second, it felt like someone had taken Din and carbon froze him before throwing him on an ice planet. 

“What?” He held his breath, unable to move a muscle until he made sure he heard you correctly. 

“I never saw you. I turned around when you reached for your helmet. I didn’t...it was a moment with you and Grogu. It didn’t feel right to look at you.” You tried to maintain a semblance of control on your voice but it cracked a few times as you admitted to him. As much as you yearned to see him without the mask, you didn’t think it proper without his clear consent. 

Din’s sudden intake of breath made you nervous and you hated how for a moment, you wished you didn’t tell him because there was now a high probability that he wouldn’t take the mask off. 

“Cyar'ika, please.” you shivered at the low tone of his voice, finding it harder to focus on anything but the touch of his skin. Once again, Din slowly brought your hands to the sides of his visor, pushing the palm of your hands on the beskar and softly nodding at you. A sudden sense of relief washed over him when he saw the slight nod of your head. 

Din found it endearing how your whole face scrunched up in focus as the two of you slowly pulled the helmet off of his head, the soft hissing sound as it unlocked making your hands dampen with sweat. As you raised the visor along with him, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes as soon as you saw the skin of his chin. Unbeknownst to you, Din was watching your every reaction and felt a little nudge in his chest when he saw how tightly shut your eyes were. When the beskar was off completely, Din took it from your hands and placed it next to him, swallowing the lump in his throat when he turned back and saw you were still refusing to look at him.

He reluctantly took your hands into his and placed them on his chest, hoping that you’d finally open your eyes without him begging you again. 

“I’m sorry I- maker, this is..this is probably more intense for you than it is for me and I’m not making it any better with my nervousness and- okay. Okay.” You took a deep breath before allowing your eyes to flutter open, unable to exhale as soon as you laid your gaze on him. Din was probably unaware of how nervous he looked and it took you a few longer seconds to realize you needed to breathe again. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, the long nights where you imagined what he could look like fading into thin air because nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared you for what you were currency seeing. 

His features were somehow soft but a little rugged, and you found yourself committing every inch of his skin to memory, filling your mind’s eye with every minute facial expression so you could dream of him when you fall asleep. It was oddly not surprising at all that he had a stubble, the scattered dark and slightly graying hairs across his jaw and above his lips making him seem older than he probably was. And you weren’t sure if he knew he was furrowing his eyebrows and then you realized he most likely didn’t because he was so used to wearing his helmet that he never had to learn how to control his facial expressions around anyone. And it was endearing how his nose flared as he continued to breathe heavily under your gaze, and if it weren’t for the fact that this was a serious moment, you would have leaned over and kissed the curved bridge of his nose and the scrunch of his eyebrows to put him at ease. 

Din wasn’t sure what he thought your reaction would be and he felt his chest tighten with every long moment you spent without so much as a comment. 

You were unaware of how long this dreadful moment must have been for the Mandalorian and you continued to study him in hopes of finding answers to questions you’ve wished you could ask him ever since he hired you. There were heavy bags under his eyes and you wished you were more persistent with him when it came to his resting schedule but he always seemed to wave you off whenever you told him he needed to sleep. Though you knew this stress had to do more with Grogu no longer being here and less with how often he slept. You had half expected to find his gaze harsh and far off but when you did finally meet his eyes, you found them filled with unshed tears and a multitude of emotions that you knew would go unexplained until he had the strength to voice them. They were a deep and beautiful shade of brown, ones you knew you’d never be able to turn away from now that you’ve had a proper look at him. And you couldn’t help but notice how their color reminded you of a Nightbloomer just after you picked it from its roots. 

All of that, however, could not compare to when you finally let your eyes descend to his lips. They were a darker shade of pink, and you swore you saw them parting as soon as you looked at them. His lower lip was trembling and you wished more than anything to swipe your thumb against it if only to feel the soft skin melt at your touch. You wished that was as far as your mind had gone but the longer you looked at the curve of his mouth, the more you wished you could lean forward and mold your lips with his. It was even worse because you had a feeling that the stubble of his mustache would cause the softest of burns on your lips. 

Din could no longer take the loud silence enveloping the room and he swallowed nervously when he saw how focused you seemed to be on his lips. He had some idea of what you were probably thinking because he was thinking the exact same thing but he wasn’t sure if he should be the one to make the first move. This reluctance evaporated when he noticed the way your eyes instantly moved to his neck as the cartilage moved and returned to rest when he gulped, and he realized that you may have been having slightly more inappropriate thoughts than he originally thought.

He was about to voice his worries when he saw your hands move from his beskar-clad chest to his face and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down apprehensively at the digits moving closer to his skin. You misunderstood his nervousness for uncomfort and immediately ceased all movements, returning your focus on his eyes to look for any inclination as to what he wanted. 

“Can I- mhmm, may I touch you?” Your whispered question was too loud for the two of you and Din parted his lips to say something but noticed how dry his throat was and realized he couldn’t trust his own voice. Nodding slightly at your request, he waited with bated breath as your fingers rose to his face and found himself shaking with anticipation at the prospect of finally feeling your touch on the most intimate part of him. 

When you were only a few inches away from him, Din felt his heart thumping wildly at his chest and he immediately shut his eyes when he felt the feather-light touch of your fingers on his cheeks. The harsh yet shaky intake of breath almost made you lose control and you had to remind yourself that, besides Grogu, you were the only one to ever touch him so intimately and so softly since he was a child. As much as you wished to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you could lay as many kisses on his face as you could, you knew it would be too much for him and that he needed you to go slow with him. He was practically shattering under your attention and you hoped he would allow you to do this as many times as possible in the coming days. 

Din couldn’t put a name to what he was experiencing at the moment but he knew he didn’t want you to stop touching him, ever again. He decided that he’d spend every moment with you alone without his helmet and with yours hands skimming some part of him. The longer you kept your palms on his cheeks, the calmer his heart beat and it wasn’t until a few moments later that he realized his eyes were shut. As they slowly fluttered open, he was met with the most beautiful sight in the world: your own deep irises staring at your own thumb as it softly passed over his quivering lips. 

“You’re...beautiful.” 

It was a simple truth and you wished there was a more sincere word you could use to describe what he was to you, what he meant to you but your mind was overflowing with images of waking up next to him every day and kissing his eyes and cheeks and nose and lips and anywhere else you could reach. 

Din’s hold tightened around your waist and you watched as he leaned forward until there was barely an inch between the two of you. 

“Mesh'la, I would really like to kiss you.” The request barely passed his lips yet you were already standing up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his, finding them as soft and gentle as you imagined them to be. Din was afraid his heart would give out any moment now because nothing could have prepared him for the taste of you, let alone the boldness with which you were claiming him. He sighed into you, unintentionally parting his lips and pushing you harder into the wall when he felt your tongue sneak into his mouth and explore him. Din wasn’t sure what he should be doing but then you were moving your hands to the nape of his neck and tangling your fingers into his hair and he all but lost it. As you gently tugged on his hair, Din found himself mirroring your actions and before he knew it, the kiss was no longer innocent and sweet but hungry and needy. You sucked on his tongue and tilted your head to the side, wanting to commit every small detail to memory so when you shut your eyes at night, you’d kiss him in your dreams. 

Reluctantly, you pulled back for a second to allow the two of you to breathe but Din didn’t like that, chasing your mouth and molding his lips with yours once more to be certain that yes, this was happening, and that no, this was not a dream. You moaned into the kiss, finding his desperate need to claim your mouth again more of a turn on than you cared to admit. And then his hands were slipping inside your overalls and holding you against his chest, the warmth of him stretching down to where you wished you could feel him. 

This sudden intrusive thought and the harsh grasp of your hips snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should be slowing things down for his sake. Against your will, you gently pushed his chest away and tried to think of anything but the way he was heaving above you from the intensity of the kiss. When you looked at him and saw panic and hesitation etched on his face, you returned your hands to his cheeks again and lowered his head until it was resting against your own. 

“There’s nothing I want more than to feel every inch of your skin against mine right now...but- but I don’t want to push you to do something that- maker….that might be too much for you?” You pulled back and waited until he opened his eyes again before continuing. “I feel like you just made a dramatic decision by taking the helmet off in front of me and- and you’re probably feeling a multitude of emotions right now and I don’t want to make you think that I-” 

Din didn’t like what you were saying, frowning down at you as he grabbed the back of your neck and violently pulled you towards him again. You were surprised by the sudden shift of his touch, fisting your hands in his cowl as he devoured your lips once more, not really giving you a chance to say anything else. Biting your lower lip, Din abruptly ended the kiss and pressed his lips across your skin, nipping and licking at your jaw as he pulled your hair down until he had access to your neck. You gasped his name and felt his stubble scratch deliciously at your shoulder. As you moaned against the wall, Din couldn’t back anymore and bit down hard on your shoulder, smiling when he heard your breath hitch at his rough ministrations. 

“Din, oh gods, Din please.” You weren’t sure what you were asking of him exactly and you hoped he’d at the very least continue what he was doing. 

“Cyar'ika, I want to have you. I’ve spent many nights dreaming of your lips, your touch, y-your skin against mine as I-” Din hesitated and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers slipping beneath the chest band that you finally registered his voice. Fuck, how had you not notice it a second ago? You thought the vocoder was what altered it, made it deeper perhaps. But no, it only made it sound more intimidating. You weren’t sure what made you clench your thighs together, the way he spoke to you of his desires, or how strained and gruff his voice was as he whispered his secrets to you. You gulped loudly and hesitantly met his eyes, finding the soft brown irises barely visible, his dilated pupils letting you know what he was thinking. 

Licking your lips, you nodded at him and fell into a fit of giggles when he leaned down and picked you up as if you weighed nothing, quickly moving to his cot and laying you down on your back before moving away. You were about to ask him what he was doing when you saw his hands swiftly move through the beskar armor. For some reason, watching his hands expertly take off the cuirass and move to the beskar of his thighs made your heart skip a beat and you wouldn’t dare move a muscle, afraid to miss the show he was unintentionally putting on for you. So busy marveling at his deft fingers, you didn’t notice Din slowing his movements and looking at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity when he saw how hard you were breathing. 

You broke out of your trance when you saw he stopped moving, embarrassment washing over you when you realized Din had caught you shamelessly staring at him as he came closer to revealing to you more of his skin. You’d expected him to move on, or at least pretend he hadn’t just caught you licking your lips while staring at his fingers but no, it seemed that Din was very much enjoying the effect he had on you because his smile grew when he saw your eyes look past him, pretending to focus on something else behind him and not his hands. 

You never lost his attention though, and he maintained his eyes on you as he removed all of his armor and took his boots off. You tried to be a little more subtle but gave up when he leaned down over you and pushed you into his covers. You wanted to ask him why he was still dressed but bit back the inquiry, afraid he’d misunderstand and move away all together at your question. He captured your gaze and didn’t blink once as he slowly undid the buttons holding the overalls and you realized you would have preferred him to keep the helmet on because that meant you wouldn’t notice how passionate and direct his deep brown irises were. You’d expected him to be intense considering how touch-starved and lonely he was, but you never once thought he’d be this vigorous? Ardent? Maker, there wasn’t a single word that could describe the way he was looking at you right now.

Din kneeled at the foot of the bed, waiting until you finally noticed what he was doing and raising your hips before he pulled on the pants of the garment. He slipped your shoes off and finally removed the article of clothing that made his cheeks blush and pants tighten whenever you wore it. He would eventually tell you that this is how you came to him in his dreams almost every night, all spent and sweaty in that gods-forsaken fabric that gave him the perfect view of what you were wearing beneath. 

His focus shifted from your face down your damp skin and he breathed in deeply at the sight of your undergarment. Din almost choked on his breath when your legs parted for a moment, giving him a glimpse of the growing wet patch at the center of the flimsy material.

The Mandalorian wanted nothing more than to worship your body, kiss every part of you and whisper his devotion against your skin as he pleasured you over and over again. He’d spent countless nights imagining what he’d do to you if you were ever naked and willing in his arms and he was damned if he didn’t make sure you were thoroughly spent once he was done with you. He wanted to hear his name fall from your lips and he wanted to swallow your sighs and your moans as he sank into you all night long. And by the gods, he wanted to mark your neck and your arms and your waist, and nothing made him harder than picturing you doing the same to him, biting and nipping at his skin so he could wake up in the morning and watch the evidence of your lo- your touch on him. It didn’t matter that no one else would see those bruises but him and you. He just wanted you, in any way possible, sinking beneath his skin.

And then he heard his voice calling for you over the comm link just outside the room and something snapped deep in his chest. He looked up from you to the open door of his room and listened to the Marshal’s words. Your eyes widened in shock when you saw several emotions pass through Din’s eyes, the most prominent of which was anger, maybe hurt. Of all the times Cobb would ask you to join him for drinks, this was most definitely the worst of them. It didn’t help either that he was laughing over some inappropriate joke one of his friends was saying about your sabacc skills. It wouldn’t be the first time this happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but then Din was clenching his jaw tightly before looking down at you and you knew he wasn’t too happy. In fact, you had a pretty good idea which emotion won out and you hated how much it affected you, how wet you became as thoughts of the Mandalorian claiming you as his flooded your mind.

Before you could try and reason with him, attempt to tell him that it was just a game and that the Marshal’s friends were probably just teasing him, Din was standing up and stripping of his long-sleeve shirt, revealing his perfectly chiseled, bronze skin that had your mouth watering within moments. You noticed the few dozen scars littering his beautiful torso and wished you could kiss each one of them, the old ones and the fairly new ones, until they didn’t sting with pain. But Din had different plans for you and he didn’t give you a chance to question him as he took hold of both of your wrists and slammed them above your head. His hold was painful and it should have scared you how quickly his mood changed but you said nothing, looking into his dilated pupils as his nose flared and he growled at you.

“Keep yours hands there,” Din warns you with a piercing look and you gulp loudly before nodding at him in understanding. He removes his hand and kneels on the bed, eyes narrowing at you before they sought after your most private areas. He wasn’t sure where to begin. He’d given this much thought but now that he was here, he realized it was a more difficult decision than he anticipated. He’d longed to wrap his lips around those hardened peaks always teasing him through the chest band, lick them until you cried for him, perhaps begged him to stop because you were sensitive. But then he continued down the lines of your navel and found your parted legs much more inviting. 

Now that Din knew how you felt, there was no reason for him to feel jealous. But he couldn't stop himself, wanting to be certain that you knew as well as he who you belonged to. He hated himself for having such primitive thoughts about you. You were your own person that much was made clear early on. But he could hope at your words, couldn’t he? He could hope that you were now his, and that he was yours. Maker, he was always yours. He just couldn’t admit it to himself, his heart reluctant at opening up to another. 

Din was lost in thought longer than you liked and you moved your feet towards him, nudging his thigh in hopes of reassuring him that you were right here, in his bed, beneath him and at his mercy. Din’s eyes focused on your again and he looked down at the soft gesture, hands instantly grabbing at your ankles. You jumped at the sudden movement, trying your hardest not to whine at the painful grasp because somewhere deep inside of you, you wanted nothing more than to be marked by him. By his teeth, lips, fingers, any part of him. You didn’t care where you’d bear his touch, you just wanted to see it, touch it in the privacy of the refresher when he wasn’t around. 

Din saw the needy look you were throwing him and he knew that you were willing. Willing to go as far as he wanted, willing to completely submit your body and soul to him, willing to do whatever he wished of you.

Before your eyes could flutter closed, Din was pushing your legs wide open and falling in between them while maintaining his gaze on you. He almost smiled when your stomach shook at how feral he probably looked. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes as his mouth latched onto the wet patch forming on the soft fabric of your undergarment, moaning into your cunt as he savored the taste seeping through. You were surprised by the boldness of the action and wished for him to lick your skin instead. But there was something erotic about the desperation behind his actions, wanting to taste you so much that he didn’t care what he was licking. 

The thought was gone as soon as it appeared because you felt two fingers stretch beneath the waistband right before he ripped it off of your body, shoving the torn fabric in his nose and taking a long whiff of it before humming in approval. Your eyes widened in surprise at the filthiness of his action, hands shaking above you when he threw your panties expertly into his helmet. The thought of knowing that your scent could potentially stick to the inside of his helmet as he walked around twisted your insides and you whined shamelessly at him, wishing he could just take what he wanted. 

“Your sounds belong to me,” Din spoke with a commanding voice as he sank in between your thighs again, his tongue dragging across your folds so deliciously hard until he pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva behind. “Your arousal belongs to me,” his hands went to your thighs and he squeezed, knowing fully well there would be bruises dawning your beautiful, smooth body the following morning. Again, you fought to keep your eyes open, wanting to commit every second to memory but finding it difficult to focus on him and not the pleasure zapping down your back. “And I will be damned if this cunt,” Din let go of one of your thighs, pulling his tongue away from your core right before the palm of his hand landed a slap straight on your clit, “doesn’t belong to me either.” You cried out his name, legs shaking violently at the pain shooting through your clit. Din didn’t give you a moment to relax back down on the covers, spanking the outer folds of your pussy twice more consecutively before he replaced the harsh touch with his cooling tongue. Tears trailed down your cheeks as he fucked you with his tongue and lapped at you like you were the only source of water on this gods-forsaken planet. He rotated between soft, quick licks to long, harsh ones, occasionally sucking on your clit and grazing his teeth on the bundle of nerves until he was sure you were going crazy. 

“D-Din oh maker, please. Stop I- slow down.” His touches were far from gentle and the pleasure blurred into pain as you tried to reach that delicious peak you’ve longed for ever since you harbored feelings for the man above you. But he was making it difficult, his needy and erratic movements making it near impossible for you to dive into the lake of pleasure. You should have known that the Mandalorian was as intense in bed as he was in every other aspect of his life. You shut your thighs around his head, wanting to push him away as his teeth continued to graze against your wet folds and nip at the pulsating nub. 

“M-Mando...I can’t.” You couldn’t take it anymore, hands moving to his hair and fisting in the beautiful brown locks as you tried to push him away. As soon as Din felt the tight grasp on his hair, he snarled at you, pushing up on his knees and bending your body along with him until the only thing resting on the bed was your neck and your shoulders. You cried out for him, begging him to give you release but it only drove him mad with lust. His eyes locked on yours, daring you to look away from him as his fingers dug into your butt cheeks and pushed your cunt into his mouth. 

Din pulled away for a split second, biting your inner thighs to grab your attention.

“You will take what I give you ner Cyar’ika.” You saw a hint of darkness in his soulful brown eyes, and shivered at the mere implications of what he had in mind for you. Din sucked and licked at your folds like a crazed man, feeling your legs shaking on his shoulders. He pulled away for a second, and you had no time to beg him to be gentle as he slapped your heated core three times again, hissing when you shut your eyes and bucked against him, your juices drenching his face and chest, leaking down your back as he smiled before taking your cunt into his mouth one last time to prolong your pleasure. You were too busy trying to remain sane to realize what had just happened and Din slowly lowered you back onto the wet covers before letting go of you. You were panting beneath him, stomach fluttering from the force of your release and chest heaving as you tried to fill your lungs with air. 

When you opened your eyes and looked at Din, your eyes widened in horror when you saw his glistening skin, finally realizing what he'd just done to you. You flushed under the scrutiny of Din’s gaze, gasping as he wiped his mouth and jaw with the back of his hand as he looked down and chuckled at the wet spot beneath his knees. You quickly shut your legs and tried to crawl away from him but Din was faster, grabbing your ankle and pulling you back to him, the show of strength already making your cunt clench around nothing again.

“You do not run from me Ad’ika...nor hide from me ever again. I own your body, your skin, the cum still leaking out of this sweet cunt.” His words were filthy and you didn’t know how to react to this new possessiveness he was showing. He pushed open your thighs and fell in between him, bringing his chest flush against yours and kissing the breath out of you, not bothering to be gentle as his fingers twisted and pinched at your nipples. You clawed at his back, wanting more of him but not knowing if you would be able to take any more of what he was offering. 

He pulled away suddenly, his jaw clenching tightly as he took one look at the hands wrapped around his back. 

“Did I not tell you to not move your hands sweet girl?” He whispered against your lips, breathing in the air leaving your lungs as he pecked the corner of your mouth before flipping you over on your stomach. 

“I- I’m sorry...it was just t-too much and-” You couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence, screaming against the covers as you felt Din’s palm land on your ass. You looked back and saw him eyeing your reddening skin, looking up at you and smiling as he treated the other side with the same kindness. Four more times his hands smacked your ass and you were ashamed at how aroused his violent actions made you. When he snuck his fingers in between your thighs and swiped haphazardly at your folds, you moaned and bit into your wrist. 

“Filthy sweet girl,” Din whispered more to himself than you before he fisted his hand in your hair and pulled you flush to his chest, the slide of your dampened back against his sweaty chest bringing him more pleasure than he would have liked to admit because not a few hours ago, he was picturing your sweaty, glistening skin beneath him. And now that he had you here, he was going to make the best of it. 

“Mando, oh Mando-” As much as he loved hearing you scream his nickname in the throws of passion, he wished more to hear his given name fall from your lips. 

“My name...scream my name sweet girl. Let the stars know who pleasures you Cyare.” Din kissed your shoulder before biting into the sweaty flesh, the hand in your hair letting go right before wrapping softly around your throat and pressing you harder against him. Your hands twisted back to try and grab his hair but he immediately took your wrist and twisted it until it was behind you, between your back and his chest. 

“Ahh Din…” You wanted to beg him to allow you to touch him, tell him that you were yearning to touch him as much as he was in need of touching you. But you had a feeling that this wasn’t true, and that this was his way of being certain that you weren’t going to leave him. That you were his. 

If only he knew that you have already belonged to him. Long before tonight.

You felt each breath leave your lungs as Din tightened his grasp around your throat and you parted your lips to moan his name, only to feel his tongue shamelessly licking into your mouth. So distracted by the desperation in this kiss, you didn’t notice the fingers trailing down your chest and digging into your skin until the palm of his hand softly cupped one breast. Din teased you with feather light touches, flicking at one nipple before moving to the other and circling around it until it hardened. He continued to swallow your noises, sucking on your tongue to quiet you as he pinched your nipples. You twisted in his arms, wanting to reach for him again but knowing that he would probably pull your hand away. 

When Din pulled away to allow you to breathe, you panted and finally opened your eyes, not daring to look away as he kept you motionless with his gaze. Din watched as you tried to form a coherent thought, waiting until you parted your lips to speak to him before reaching down and cupping your quivering cunt as he broke the silence.

“This belongs to me,” your breath hitched when Din pressed the palm of his hand against you, not quite applying pressure on your clit but just enough to hold your focus. “Only I get to touch you, kiss you, watch you as you come undone in my arms.” You nodded briefly at him, continuing to hold eye contact as he began to increase his actions. “No one else will ever have you Cyar'ika. No one but me.” He slipped two fingers past your wet folds and rubbed against your walls, humming in approval when he felt you flutter around him the harder he shoved his fingers inside you. 

“I’m yours Din, y-yours. Whatever you want, oh gods please more...need more, Din you make me f-feel so good.” Din keened at your words, curling his hand until his palm was passing deliciously over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. 

“That’s right sweet girl, you’re mine. Mine to fuck, mine to take whenever I want...mine to-” Din hesitated for a second, unable to voice his heart to you even though you’ve bared your soul for him. “Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum...kriffing gods you’re wet, so wet for me. Come on, cum for me again ner Cyare. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how needy this little cunt is, fuck- I...can’t want to have you wrapped around my cock little one. Can’t wait to sink in this pussy, my sweet tight cunt, mark you with my seed, over and over again...fuck a load in you all night long till you can’t feel anything but my cum dripping down your thighs. Shit, I need you to cum, now!” Your mind became foggy with pleasure, unable to focus on anything but the words whispered into your ears as his thick fingers fucked into you. You grabbed the wrist of the hand wrapped around your throat, digging your nails into his skin as you came around his fingers. You almost fell forwards but Din held you flush against him, continuing to drive his digits into you and rub at your clit with this thumb until you were sobbing in his arms. 

“Beautiful,” Din kissed your shoulder as he slowly inched his hands away from you before laying you down slowly. His eyes took in the flushed, wet skin of your back, chuckling with pride when he saw your legs shaking as little sobs escaped your lips. Your breaths came in shallow and quick, and you tried to silence your whines by biting into your wrists but then you felt Din slide his hand back and forth on your back as he laid next to you and you shivered under his touch because from the way he was moving closer to you and touching you, there was no way he was done just yet. 

“You’re all I think about, every waking moment. It’s difficult to focus on anything else when you’re always in my mind Cyar'ika. I- I burn for you, for your lips to caress mine every moment, your eyes to never leave mine as I brand you, your skin against my own as you mark me with your touch. I- maker, I cannot think of a life without you here, with me…” Din thought he would have to force himself to say such things but he found it remarkably easy now that he had you here, responding so openly and shamelessly to him.

“Din,” you turned your head and shifted towards him, kissing the hand resting between the two of you before leaning your forehead against his and shutting your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here, for as long as you’ll have me.” Din ceased all movement at your words and he looked away from where he was stroking your back, meeting your eyes and furrowing his eyebrows before you felt him grab your arm and pull you on top of him. You surprised gasp died in your throat when you felt Din wrap his arms around your back and bring you against him until you could feel his chest hairs tickling your nipples. You could feel his cock jutting against your core through his pants and as you rested your hands on his chest and looked to him, you saw the frown ease from his expression, replaced with something akin to reverence. 

“I will have you until my dying breath Mesh’la. Let me show you how much I want you.” The force of his declaration hit you instantly and you pressed your lips against his just as you felt him rid himself of his pants. Din’s hands were roaming your back and you felt bolder with every caress, combing your fingers into his hair and pulling on it as he squeezed your ass and bucked into you. The growl emanating from his chest shot straight to your core and you raised yourself from him for a moment.

“Din, I want you. Crave to feel you inside me. Please, do it fast and don’t- don’t be gentle. Show me, show me how much you lo- want me.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your words and he wasted no time, taking hold of his cock and teasing your clit with his leaking tip before slowly inching inside you. You shut your eyes and dug your nails into the back of his neck as he continued to sheath his dick deeper in your cunt. You could feel every ridge and pulsating vein dragging against your inner walls, finally allowing your lungs to breathe as you felt him nudge and twitch against that soft, spongy spot in your core. 

Neither of you moved for a few moments, with Din trying to wrap his mind around finally becoming one with you and feeling you clench so sweetly around him. He was torn between fucking up into you without mercy and taking it nice and slow until he pushed you over the edge again. But then you were gyrating your hips and sighing his name on his cheek and he knew what he wanted. 

Planting his feet on the damp covers, Din held you flush against him with one arm while resting his other hand on your thigh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips up before sinking into you again. You let out a surprised sob and rested your forehead against his shoulder, whispering more pleas against his skin and begging him to move. 

The usually quiet man breathed the sweetest wishes in your ears, thrusting up into you with immense force that made you clench tighter around him. “Ni copad gar an te ca'nara Ad’ika, ni vercopa be gar anay ca. You have made a home for yourself inside my heart.” Din felt your shaky breath blow on his neck and it drove him mad with lust because he wanted to have you reacting to his touch so wantonly every minute of every day. His grip only tightened around you and he prayed you wouldn’t mind the bruises that would surely color your skin in the next few hours. He wasn’t planning on being gentle tonight, perhaps later, but not tonight, and he was going to ensure his touch would be visible for anyone that would speak with you tomorrow. Thoughts of the Marshal passed through his mind’s eye and he growled, pumping his cock into you harshly for some reassurance. You cried out his name over and over again, feeling your skin heat up at the declarations of love he was peppering on your skin because even though his words were gentle, his touches were far from it.

The squelching sounds of your cunt flooding Din’s thighs as he drove himself into you should have embarrassed you but you could tell he enjoyed knowing how wet you were for him from the way he continued to quicken the pace just to hear your juices flowing over him. His grip on you was becoming more painful the more you moved against each other but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him know. He was letting go, showing you how much he wanted you, how hard he was for you, and you weren’t about to make him feel conscious over his affection.

“Maker...oh Din, Din I- you feel so good inside me. Filling me up like no one else. Could feel you so deep, gods, could feel you everywhere Din please- don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop, I need it. Need you, want you- want you to mark me, d-do whatever you want with me.” You had no hold over your own speech and weren’t sure if you were making any sense but Din moaned each time you praised him.

“Good girl, sweet girl...taking my cock so well, kriffing hell. Your- your pussy is squeezing the fuck out of me..could feel every tight inch of you stroking my cock Cyar’ika. Ah pfassk...you’re- you’re perfection.” Din moved the hand around your back up to your neck, pulling on your hair and pressing his lips with yours as his cock throbbed inside you. You whined as his tongue roughly swirled around your own, barely able to breathe as he continued to snap his hips against you and suddenly feeling a rush of relief as his navel rubbed at your clit until you came around him. Din broke the kiss, screaming expletives in his tongue as the force of your orgasm pushed his cock out of you. You shuddered as you gushed on his dick, wrapping your arms around his neck when he forced his cock into your tight cunt again. 

You were so overcome with emotions, so lost in Din’s scent mixing with your own, and his touch leaving bruises on your skin, that you didn’t notice the faint sounds of footsteps coming up the ramp and halting in the middle of the ship right in front of the door. But Din noticed, managing to look up just in time to see Cobb standing in the middle of the ship and staring with wide eyes at the scene unfolding in front of him. 

Something completely otherworldly took over the Mandalorian and he quickly sat up, expertly moving the two of you around until he was kneeling on the covers with you straddling his thighs. He smiled against your shoulder, allowing your hair to hide his face as he grabbed both of your hips and fucked up into you. 

He could vaguely see the Marshal and was surprised that he hadn't dropped the bottle of drink in his hand just yet. You wailed into the night air, arms keeping you stead in Din’s arms as he forced you on his pulsating dick over and over again. 

“Tell me...tell me Cyare, tell me how much you love it when I fuck you. How much you need my cock like the filthy little cockslut you are. Go on sweet girl, grind that little clit on me. Fucking tell me ner Ad’ika.” Din smacked your ass twice, chuckling when your moans grew more lewd with every touch he laid on you.

“I- I- ahhh love your cock...oh maker, no one fucks me like you. N-no one makes me c-cum like you. Fuck me harder D- ahhh,” Din bit down on your shoulder to prevent you from saying his name, looking through the mess of your hair and watching as his audience remained incapable of moving. 

“I own this pretty little pussy. Pffassk- ride me harder Mesh’la. You’re such a good girl, could feel your cunt drenching my thighs, the smell of you is driving me mad. Fuck- keep that pretty mouth open to me when I’m fucking you, let me hear you scream for me.”

“Please- please...fuck me harder, ruin my pussy. Gods- I..I’m so close please. Tell me you own me, tell me I’m you’re sweet girl. Please- I want to be good for you, want you to cum inside me Din...cum inside me. I need it, need you to fuck me like you own me and mark me, make me yours Mando. Cum in me, please-” 

“Ah fuck you’re my sweet little girl aren’t you? Wanting me to fuck a load in you, cum in you all night long and keep my seed in that tight cunt? That’s it sweetheart, I’m so fucking hard for you. Could feel you clenching around me...be a good girl and cum again ner kar'ta. Fuck, yes yes you feel so good wrapped around my cock Cyare you’re going to make me cum. Spill my seed in that tight, wet pussy, fill you up till you can taste it in your throat. Shit, and- and I’m going to keep fucking you sweet girl, till my cum is sliding down your thighs. My little fucktoy- come on, come on love, cum for me. Cum on me, drench me again. Mix your juices with me.” Din watched as Cobb finally had the mind to leave and he almost laughed at how the man almost tripped on his own foot as he sprinted out of the ship. He pushed you on your back and spread your thighs open, resting his weight on the arms around your head as he thrust in a few more times before he felt you clench around him. Leaning down, Din took a pert nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, growling into your skin as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls with long strings of his seed until he couldn’t breathe. He’d never cum this hard before and was sure to tell you when you had the state of mind to pay him any semblance of attention.

Din continued to lazily push into you, your words from earlier replaying in his mind as he felt you quiver around his softening cock. You were still coming down from your high and twitched occasionally when you felt him throb inside you. There was a pleasant kind of warmth washing over you and you sighed happily when you realized he was still bucking against you to push his cum in your belly. 

“D-din...you’re filling me up so good. Feel so full ah- gah.” He laughed when your body shook, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around until you were laying on his chest. You kissed his jaw and his neck, moaning in unison when you felt his dick rub against that sweet spot inside you. 

“That’s because I’ve never cum this hard sweet girl. You’ve milked me dry Cyare. Could feel you sucking my seed out of me.” He was amazed at your obvious embarrassment, wanting to tease you about it but choosing to wait for later instead.

Din rubbed at your back, kissing your forehead as he whispered sweet things in your ears and smiling when you nipped at his neck some more. 

“Promise me you’ll never leave.” Din’s quiet voice broke the silence and you pushed up to look into his eyes as you responded. “I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to go. I’ll stay here, always. I promise.” You kissed him gently and felt his pulse beneath your fingers calm at your words. 

Not much time has passed before Din had you on your knees in front of him, fucking your mouth and shoving you down on his cock until you gagged and his seed slipped from the corner of your mouth, mixing with your spit as it fell down your breasts. You lost count of how many times he brought you pleasure, and you made a mental note to ask him how he managed to fuck you all night long. You weren’t sure it was possible for a man to cum this many times over the course of one night but you had a feeling Din was not like anyone else. A man who has been touch starved for almost three decades must have had a lot of pent-up aggression that he needed to release. And you would gladly help him in any shape or form through that. 

And when he wasn’t pumping your cunt full of his cum, he was nuzzling into your neck and laying kisses across your arms, making sure he caressed every inch of your skin. You shouldn’t have been surprised that Din loved to snuggle with you but you did find it hilarious that such a big and scary Mandalorian whimpered when you licked down his neck as you nestled into his arms. You wouldn’t tell him just yet but besides his rough grasps and his filthy words, you loved to taste the saltiness of his skin and from the looks of it, the feelings were mutual because at some point in the night, he’d told you of all the times he had to lock himself up in the refresher and try his hardest to not think of your sweaty limbs entangling with his own as he kissed you.

By the time the two of you made it outside the following day, the twin suns had already been in the middle of the sky, scorching rays of heat on everyone across Mos Pelgo. You tried your hardest not to walk too funny, mostly because it made Din apologize every now and then, but it was difficult when you could still feel traces of his touch on you. You told him you needed him to stop making it obvious but realized he was apologizing out of regret not out of humor. It took you all of the afternoon to convince him that you were feeling more than okay and that you’d asked him for this. And when he didn’t seem to stop, you teased him and told him that you knew he secretly loved watching you wobble from side to side. 

This all, however, peaked when you walked into the cantina and tried to play Sabbac with Cobb Vanth and the others. You could tell that the Marshal was avoiding all conversation with you, going out of his way to pretend you weren’t even sitting on the table, let alone the room. You hoped that Mando hadn’t spoken with him or anything and decided to call it quits earlier in the night. When you did make it back to the ship and saw Din cleaning his weapons, you made sure the ship was secure before moving to sit on the bed across from him.

“Did you talk to Cobb today?” You gauged his reaction, already sensing that something was wrong when you saw him nervously clench his jaw before rubbing furiously at the beskar weapon.

“No, why do you ask?” Din wished he hadn’t already taken off his helmet because as soon as he responded, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.

“Din?”

He looked up at you and cleared his throat before speaking.

“He- he saw us...last night. I- I must have forgotten to raise the ramp and-” Din took a deep breath when you shot up from the cot and began to pace back and forth. 

“HE WHAT?”

“We were...I couldn’t- there wasn’t a chance I could…you felt too good around me Ad’ika I- I couldn’t stop. Not when you were clenching around me so tightly. Now when you were finally in my arms. I-” He stood up and walked towards you, taking your hands into his and kissing both of your wrists. You flushed at his words and looked up at him, only to find him blushing under your gaze. 

“You did it on purpose didn't you? You wanted him to see...to watch as you- as we...as I said-” Din didn’t let you finish the sentence, leaning down and molding his lips with yours as he walked you back to his bed. He pushed you down on the covers still holding your scents, his hold hardening the more you moaned against him. Before he could strip you of your clothes, you pushed him off and stuck out your finger in warning.

“Oh no you don’t. Go raise the ramp.”

“You’re giving me orders now Mesh’la?” Din raised an eyebrow at you as he got off of you and walked around the bed, halting at the doorstep to look back at you.

“Never…”

Translations:

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - my/mine

Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum - mine to love

Ni copad gar an te ca'nara - I want you all the time.

Ni vercopa be gar anay ca - I dream of you every night. 

Ner kar'ta - my heart

[lazysimp]

Normal Again /// Bakugou x Fem Reader (18+)

✧Click HERE to read Male version ✧

Rating: Explicit

Summary: A sequel to fine. You never expected recovery to be easy but you never thought it would be nearly impossible. In the weeks since your torture things between you and Bakugou had only grown more strained. Will you be able to save your relationship or is it a lost cause? 

Word count: 8.7k 

Warnings/tags: TW: Self hatred/violence, degradation (not in a sexy way), Angst, Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (giving and receiving), Anal play, She/Her pronouns, All characters are adults, SMUT 18+ Only

masterlist┃AO3

A vicious laugh filled the air as Bakugou’s boot connected with your cheek sending your body flying towards the ground. His deep red eyes were full of glee watching you spit out blood from your busted cheek. He crouched down, looking at you as if you were filth. 

“Look at you,” he sneered. “Just lying there taking it all. You are pathetic, honesty how did I ever see you as more than an easy fuck.” 

“Stop it Bakugou,” you beg weakly. You could not bring yourself to understand how such cruel words could come from the same mouth that used to worship you. 

His boot connects to your head once more sending blinding pain shooting through your skull. “Did you really think you were going to be with me forever? That I would tie myself to someone who can’t even stop themselves from getting kidnapped by a B-ranked villain.” 

His boot rests on your face, its thick rubber sole indenting its print into your cheek. “The only reason I kept you around this whole time was that you spread your legs whenever I wanted. You are easy, too easy and the whole office knows it. They all laugh at you, at how much of a whore you are.” 

Tears begin to leak from your eyes as he brought to light all your insecurities. You would rather he kept beating you than continue to torture you with his taunts. After every night of the same torture you had grown numb to the physical pain but no matter how hard you tried you could not escape his words. 

“If it wasn’t for you I would have already climbed my way to the top. All you can do is hold me back from my dreams with your constant failures. You make me despise you.” 

His heel digs into your temple creating an agonizing inescapable pressure. You were helpless to stop his merciless assault and you were not sure you even wanted to. All you really wanted was for all of this to stop. The constant pain and guilt had worn down your spirit, it was as though you had nothing left to even lose. 

“Look at you just lying there taking it. Why don’t you fight me you pathetic bitch? Why don’t you ever fight?” He screamed, emphasizing each with a blow to your head. You reach up to cover your ears not wanting to hear anything else but your arms were trapped down at your side, held by some invisible force. 

You try again to lift move your arms and then your legs but a warm tight hold tightened even further. Needing to escape the suffocating warmth you thrash around, lashing out at the invisible force. 

“Shh, baby it is ok,” Bakugou said above you his boot still on your head. “This is all just a dream.” 

You slam your eyes closed needing to escape the glaring red eyes that only brought you pain. 

“Mimic is dead and will never hurt you again I promise,” Bakugou’s voice grows closer to your ear. This was your chance! You manage to free one arm and reach up, blindly scratching at any body part you could reach. 

Your nails scream for mercy as you drag them viciously down his arm, their gliding made easy by blood. Despite the pain you know you must have caused, the invisible hold only tightened, trapping both of your hands. 

“Please baby open your eyes, you are safe I promise.” Bakugou’s voice cooed softly trying to pry you away from your own mind. 

You shake your head not trusting the voice, after all, it was the same one that had just been hurting you. With both your hands held still you are left with no choice but to use your teeth. You bite down on one of the arms holding you, sinking your teeth deep into the flesh until a rusty taste fills your mouth. 

“Open your eyes my beautiful girl please,” Bakugou’s voice grew clearer, the malice you had been expecting surprisingly absent. 

Reluctantly you relax into the warm hold and crack one eye open. A sweet smelling black tank top was the first thing you recognized. You blink your eyes a few times to clean them and get a better look around. 

The cold dark room you had been in only moments ago was gone, replaced by a soft bed and warm blankets. The tight suffocating grip that had held you earlier is now a warm embrace. 

You look at the strong arms holding you to your fiancé’s chest and wince. Deep red scratch marks littered his muscles and an already bruising bite branded his shoulder. With you no longer resisting he released your hands and started to run his fingers up and down your back. Despite his mask of relaxation, you could tell he was shaken up. 

“I did it again didn’t I?” you ask weakly already knowing the answer. 

Bakugou let out a sigh, “Yeah, it took me nearly ten minutes to get you back this time.” 

Overwhelming guilt filled your mind for the second time tonight. You had hurt the man you loved because of some stupid dreams. It had been months since your rescue and still every night without fail you dreamed about it happening. It was like the torture never stopped. 

“It is getting worse,” Bakugou says, continuing to pet down your back. 

You nod weakly. He was not wrong. Neither of you had gotten a full night’s rest since the incident. No matter what pills you took without fail you dreamed about Bakugou. Logically you knew it was not Bakugou who had been the one to hurt you. He was your hero and his reward is you flinching from his touch and attacking him in your sleep. None of this was fair. 

Bakugou’s lips softly pressed against your forehead as he pulled you in even closer. You ignored the spike of fear being close to him caused and tried to remember this was your Bakugou, not the sick twisted version Mimic created. 

“We can’t keep going like this baby,” he says weakly. “I think I need to leave for a little bit.” 

Absolute panic grips your heart, “No! Please don’t leave me. I’ll get better I promise. I will find another sleeping pill that one doctor prescribed worked for the first couple of weeks. We can figure this out, please don’t-” 

“Shh,” Bakugou pulled you in closer. “Right now I am not good for you.” 

You open your mouth to protest but he places his hand finger over our lips. “Baby you flinch every time I look at you.” 

You wanted to deny his claim but remember how his eyes felt on your skin and shutter. 

“My face, my voice, hell my smell are all triggers for you. I am hurting you by being near you. I am causing you pain by serving as a living reminder of your pain and I can’t do it anymore.” 

Hot tears start to fall from your eyes. You hated how everything he is saying is not wrong. He is a walking trigger for the memories of that night and you had no idea how to get over them. 

“So this is it,” you say, defeated. 

“No, baby god no. You and I just need some time apart until you are ready to see me again. I am planning on staying at Deku’s for a bit, the nerd offered me his spare bedroom.” 

Despair was the only thing you could feel. All of this was your fault and he should hate you for it but he doesn’t. Why doesn’t he hate you like you hate yourself? He should be screaming at you for causing all of this. The blame is yours and yours alone. If you had been just a little stronger you would never have been taken in the first place and none of this would have happened. 

“Until I can get you to talk to me about how you are feeling I can’t help you. All I am doing is making this worse.” His arms started to loosen their hold around you and for the first time in weeks you wanted them back. 

His arms pulled away completely, taking his warmth. “This is not permanent,” he assured. “It is just until you are ready for me to come back and I will wait as long as you need.” 

You start to reach out for him, to beg him to get back in bed but the silhouette of him above you sent a chill down your spine. You wanted to rip everything apart, every time you made progress there was something dragging you backward. 

You watch helplessly as he quickly dresses and leaves the bedroom, not looking back. You can’t blame him, you want to be free of yourself too. You could hear the front door to the apartment open and quietly shut, the lock clicking into place. 

Life moved slower when you did not have your angry gremlin by your side. It had been a few weeks since he left and you had never been more miserable. At first, you had agreed to the separation, after all, he was a giant trigger but you were quickly realizing it was worse without him. 

The anxiety of being alone at night had you reaching for your phone nearly every night, wanting to call him. It was a miracle you had managed to resist. With you not there to bother him maybe he would finally be getting some sleep. 

The only communication you had gotten from him was a couple of texts letting you know he was still alive. You know he was trying to give you space but the longer he was away the more you wanted to drag him back home. 

Your therapist had still not cleared you for fieldwork so the only thing you could to distract yourself was binge a couple of shows and try some cooking. Of course nothing you made tasted half as good as Bakugou’s cooking. By the end of the the first week your life consisted of sleep, tv, and takeout. 

Your glazed-over eyes half focus on the tv in front of you as you are lost in your thoughts. You hear a knock on the door and rush over to open it. Could he have changed his mind and come back? For the first time in a long time hope filled your chest but it was quickly shattered as you look through the peephole. Uraraka stood still outside your door holding a few grocery bags. 

You try to plaster on a fake smile and open the door. Uraraka did not wait for an invitation and barreled her way into your apartment. 

“Hello to you too,” you mumble, closing the door. 

She sets the floating bags onto the counter and releases her quirk. “Whew, you would believe the line at the store this morning. All the old ladies were fighting their way into the store for the 20% off sale. Of course none of them could beat me from being first in line.” 

You snort, no matter how many brand deals and hero contracts Uraraka had she never stopped being frugal. 

“How was your morning?” She asked, unpacking the many goods from the bags. 

You shrug, “Same as always, watched some tv and pretend my life isn’t falling apart.” 

Uraraka pauses and gives you a look of understanding. “You know he hasn’t forgotten about you, not for one minute.” 

You look away, “What does it matter, our relationship is practically over. I have not seen him in weeks and even if I did see him I would make everything worse with my stupid fear.” 

“You fear is not stupid, you went through something traumatic and need time to heal.” 

You scoff, “I have had time. But every time I make any progress something triggers me and I fall right back down to where I started.” 

“That is normal though! It took me weeks to even look at Deku without crying. You are both being too hard on yourselves.” 

“I am tired of waiting!” You yell, finally letting your anger out in the open. “I miss him so much it hurts. I miss how he would hold me every night after he helped me bathe because I was too sore to even lift my arms. I miss how he would pack my lunch every day because he could not stand watching me go hungry. I miss my Bakugou.” 

Uraraka wraps her arms around your shoulders pulling you in tight against her chest, letting you sob. It was the first time in weeks anyone had touched you. Her soft hands traced up and down your back, trying her best to soothe the pain. 

“I miss him so much,” you cry between hiccups. 

“So why don’t you call him? I am sure he would be happy to hear your voice.” Uraraka pulls out her phone and starts to dial his number. 

“No!” You snatch the phone from her hand and toss it over your shoulder. You wince as you hear the phone connect with the hardwood floor. 

The hand on your back stills, “You are going to replace that you know.” 

You nod, a worthy expense if it meant you did not have to confront reality just yet. At least with him gone you could pretend your relationship was not over. 

“Stop saying that! Your relationship is not over. What the two of you need is a good conversation.” 

You must have said the last part out loud. “What does it matter, even if we have a conversation and he moves back in I will end up having nightmares and keep him up for weeks. It is not fair for him to suffer through that for me.” 

“Ugh!” Uraraka shoves you off her chest and stands. “Both of you keep pushing each other away based on some convoluted idea that you are actually protecting each other. It makes me want to pull my hair out!

You cross your arms over your chest, “Well I am protecting him.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Sure.” 

“Hey, don’t make me regret teaching you sarcasm. I’m being serious, my nightmares were getting so bad I started to attack him in my sleep.” 

“No offense but Bakugou can handle you with his hands tied behind his back.” 

“But he shouldn’t have to! It is not fair for him to have to worry if his fiancé will attack him in his sleep every night.” 

“News flash, life is not fair. It was not fair when I watched the love of my life get skewered in front of me. It was not fair when I could not look at him for weeks without crying. And it was not fair when Mimic tortured you. None of this is fair or just, it is all shit we are given and sometimes it is more than we can handle.” 

She holds your chin in her hands, “The only thing you are doing wrong is pushing away the person who you need the most.” 

“But I hurt him when he is close,” you argue weakly. 

Uraraka’s eyes softened, “You hurt him more when you push him away. His quirk is not mind reading, he has no idea how to help you, how you can both help each other.” 

You knew she was right, that what you were doing was not working. But you were stuck, unsure how to even start talking to him again. Even so, you had to try. 

“Alright, I will try giving him a call-” 

Behind you, Uraraka’s phone rang, its piercing ring tone cutting you off. Your heart sinks, that ring tone only went off when a hospital was calling. Without a word, Uraraka bends down and picks up her phone from the floor. 

“Hello, this is Uravity speaking,” she said into the phone. 

You watch her face for clues and your heart grew even heavier as worry danced in her eyes. 

“Are you going to transfer him to the Hero’s hospital in Tokyo?” 

Your breathing stops. No, the world could not be so cruel. Your hearing grows fuzzy making it impossible to tune into the rest of Uraraka’s conversation.

“Hey,” someone said in the background. “Hey, I need you to focus. Bakugou is hurt, I am not next of kin so they won’t tell me anything about his condition. I am going to drive us over to the hospital, he should already be there by the time we arrive” 

You nod, too stunned to speak. He was hurt. Your Bakugou was hurt and you were just standing around. Ignoring the pain in your chest your mind finally snapped into action. 

Wordlessly you and Uraraka rushed down to her car below. The drive to the Hero’s hospital was short, only a few blocks from your apartment. The front entrance was already packed full of reporters trying to catch a glimpse of your injured hero. 

You bite your tounge to stop yourself from cursing the reporters out. Those nosy assholes wanted to broadcast Bakugou’s pain to the public for a quick buck. Luckily disappeared from your sight as Uraraka drove past the and into the private parking lot. 

Uraraka had not even put the car in park when you shoved open the door and ran to the sliding doors. You could hear her yell to wait behind you but you kept running until you found the front desk. 

You skid to a stop in front of a shocked receptionist and slam your palms down on the counter, “Where are they taking Hero Dynamight?” You ask, holding your hero license out so she would know you were not a reporter. 

The receptionist winced, “I am sorry but only allowed to disclose information to the family of the patient.” 

“Well I am his wife and I am demanding to know where he is.” You retort, not caring about the implications of the claim. 

“Dynamight is not married, his paperwork states he is a single but nice try.” 

“Listen here you-” your rant was cut short by a soft hand on your shoulder. 

“It was a private ceremony, they have still not made it public yet so there is now paperwork. I know that is not protocol but won’t you please let it slide this once ” Uraraka smiles sweetly trying to play cute to get what she wants.

The receptionist shook her head, “ I am sorry but I cannot allow anyone who is not documented family to visit any patient.” 

You open your mouth to yell but Uraraka beats you to it. 

“That is fine, thank you for doing such a great job protecting our heroes.” She gently grabs your bicep and pulls you away from the desk before you could say another word. 

“What are you doing she is our only way of figuring out anything about Bakugou.” You hiss trying to pry yourself free from her hold. 

“No she’s not,” Uraraka turns her head to look at you and smiles. “I spent a few weeks coming in and out of this hospital while Deku was recovering. Going through the main entrance is the easiest way but there is a locked side door. With enough force, it can be wiggle open.” 

“Won’t it have an alarm?” 

“Of course it has an alarm this is a heavily secured building. Luckily they have a well-trained hero there to investigate the disturbance,” she winked. 

You laugh, being a hero did have its perks. It only took a few more turns before she found the small door. 

“Now when I open this door a blaring alarm will go off and two security guards will come rushing from either end. I will handle the one on this side but you will be on your own for the other. Try not to hurt them too much.” 

With that Uraraka wraps her hand around the door handle and pulls, her arm muscles bulging from the effort. You stand still, stunned to watch your friend pry open the solid steel door.

The door finally gives sending out a blaring alarm but you had already made it past the first couple hallways, hiding in a small doorway as a guard runs past. You wait another minute to make sure the coast is clear besides casually walking down the hallway until you found a nurse’s station.

“Excuse me,” you say, trying to sound as polite as possible. “The front desk told me to ask you which room my husband is in.” 

The oldest nurse looked you up and down skeptically, “What is your husband’s name?” 

“Bakugou Katsuki.” 

“Uh-hu sure, wait here a minute for me while I go find his nurse.” She turned and disappeared into the room behind the station.

Fuck, she was onto you. You slowly walk backward away from the door’s line of sight and rush down the hallway looking desperately for Bakugou. He had to be here somewhere but the hospital was a maze of hallways and doors with no names on them. 

You could not yell out for him that would only alert security to your position faster. You spin on your heels looking frantically for any sign of him but the more you look, the more lost you become. 

“Hey! You cannot be back here,” A security guard yelled, a taser already armed in his hand. 

You put your hands into the air, looking to your side for an escape. You could handle one petty security guard but you did not feel like explaining to the commission why you beat a guard. Sucking in a deep breath you run towards the officer who was too shocked to pull the trigger on the taser. Sticking your leg out you kick his feet out from under him sending his back to the floor. 

Without looking back you run down the hall taking as many turns as you could to find a hiding spot. One of these rooms had to have no camera in it. 

In your frantic looking, one door stood out. It was off to the left in a dead-end hallway. It had to be a good enough hiding spot as any. You sprint to the door and swing the door open into a pitch-black room. 

You felt bile rise in your throat at the thought of entering the darkness but you had no choice, security was hot on your heels. You close your eyes and step into the darkness, closing the door behind you. 

Your back rests against the door and you listen to the guards run past the hallway. For now they had no idea where you were. You let out a sigh of relief and feel around the wall for a light switch. 

Mercifully, you find it and switch it on. The room looked like any other hospital room except for one thing. There was someone in the bed and they were about to look up. 

Shit! You duck under one of the tables in time to hide from their view. 

“Oi, I thought I told you people to leave me alone! I already took the damn pills and agreed to stay the night.” 

Your breathing stops at the deep rough voice of Bakugou. You found him; he is not in a coma fighting for his life. He is in bed resting safely just feet away from you. A sob of relief climbs your throat, and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to mute it. 

The rush of blinding fear to find Bakugou suddenly turns into fear about seeing him. What if he did not want you to visit? Fuck you should have thought about this more before you left. 

“I can hear your breathing! Don’t make me get out of bed or I will kick your ass.” 

Not wanting him to hurt himself by standing you relent and force your weak knees up. You keep your eyes to the floor not daring to look at his face, “Surprise,” you tease weakly. 

“W-what?” Bakugou said, his voice high and full of confusion. 

“I-I heard you got hurt, no one was telling me anything, so I decided to come and check up on you myself. But I see you are fine so I will leave you alone. I am sorry for barging in.” 

“Wait! Don’t leave,” Bakugou winces as he sits up in bed, his abdomen covered in bandages. Instantly you rush to his bedside. 

“Don’t move that fast you will hurt yourself!” You lecture, gently pushing him back down to the bed. Bakugou looks down at your hands with shock, you had not touched him caringly since the incident. 

You quickly realized your hands were still on him and snatch them back to your side. You stand there awkwardly, unsure what to do. It was like the months of being together had been erased since he had left. 

“W-what happened?” You finally ask to break the silence. 

Bakugou looks down at his hands, “Some stupid kid ran out in the middle of the fight and almost got themselves killed. I didn’t have enough time to get them out of the way, so I had to shield them instead. Damn villain managed to shoot me.” 

“You got shot!” 

“Yeah, pathetic asshole knew he could not take me without a gun. Lucky for me he had terrible aim and managed to only graze my side. The only reason I am still in this stupid bed is because Rescue Girl is on vacation and refuses to come in and heal me.” 

The heavy weight on your heart lifted slightly knowing he was not seriously hurt but you still worried about his current condition. Bakugou was not one to sit around until he felt better. In the time the two of you had been together he only got sick once and it took tackling him to the ground and tying him up in bed to keep him from working. 

You knew him and Deku were on good terms now but dealing with a hurt Bakugou was a full-time job. “How long did the doctor say you have to be off work?” 

Bakugou scoffed, “She thinks I have to wait at least a week even with Recovery Girl. As soon as I can escape this bed I will head back to the office I have a villain to hunt down.” 

You put your hands on your hips, “Oh no you won’t. If the doctor tells you to wait a week you will wait a week.” 

A mischievous grin spreads across Bakugou’s face, “Oh, and how are you going to enforce that?” 

Blood rushes to your face making your cheeks feel like they were burning. To keep him from fighting his restraints the last time he was sick you had to fuck him until he was too tired to care he was chained up. By the time he had recovered from being sick you could barely walk and he had to be the one to take care of you.

“Don’t look at me like that when you are hurt.” 

“Then answer the question, how do you plan to keep me from working this week.” 

“What are you five? Do you really need an incentive to be good?” You taunt. 

A wolfish grin spread across his face, “Yes.” 

You throw your hands up in the air, “Ugh, you are terrible!” 

His hand reaches out and grabs your wrist to pull you in closer to the bed and for a second fear flashes in your eyes. All of the teasing had made you forget your fear but his touch brought is all back. 

Bakugou sensed the change in your demeanor and opened his hand to free you from his touch. 

“Wait, don’t move your hand,” you suck in a deep breath. “Just give me a second.” 

His warm long fingers wrapped themselves back around your wrist, holding still as you try to calm your heart. You were stronger than this fear. You could do this. 

“Baby, you don’t have to push yourself, I understand-” 

“No!’ You yell, taking a step closer to his bed. “This is ok, I will make this ok again.” 

You avoid looking at his face, needing to build up your strength before testing your limits. Being separated from him had helped your memories heal some but it was still difficult to see him. 

Forcing the tight fear in your chest down you intertwined your fingers through his and pull them up to your lips, gently kissing his knuckles.

“It is easier when I control where you touch,” you mumble to him, trying to follow Uraraka’s advice. 

“What?” Bakugou asked, unsure what you meant. 

“When you are the one controlling the touching, it makes me nervous because I don’t know what will happen next. It makes me feel like I have no control and that is when I start to freak out.” 

You look down to where your hands were joined, “When I am leading the touch I have some idea of what will happen next and it is easier to not feel scared.” 

“So you have to be in charge?” 

“I don’t have to always be in charge, I just need to know what you are thinking, what you are doing before you do it or I need to be guiding it.” 

Bakugou smiled, “So if I told you to sit on my face would that work?” 

A few incoherent words fall out of your mouth as you try to process what he just said. 

“Well, maybe, but you are hurt and need your rest. Besides, you should not be thinking about that while you are lying in a hospital bed. When you are discharged, we can try something like that.” 

Bakugou sat up straighter, “Oh no you don’t. I have gone without your taste on my tongue for too long. You are going to get that sweet ass over here and sit on my face.” 

“No, Bakugou. Look at the state of you. I could seriously hurt you.” 

That was the absolute worst thing you could have said, in seconds his teasing eyes filled with fiery determination. The last time he gave you that look was when you rejected going on a date with him. A week later he had your legs wrapped around his waist. 

He lifts his finger and points to you and then his face, “Come here.” 

You stubbornly shake your head, “This is not happening Bakugou. You could tear your stitches and have to stay in the hospital even longer.”

He shrugs, “Fine with me as long as you are here.” 

This damn man must be suicidal. “We need to talk more about our relationship before we dive right into sex.” 

“Your mouth will be free and clear to talk.” 

“This is an awful idea. What if I get freaked out in the middle of it all?” 

“That’s easy, we stop,” he gently pulls you in closer his face now only inches away. 

“Please baby I have missed you; I promise I will stop if it gets too much.”

You were conflicted. Neither of you were in a state where you should be fooling around. But the feel of his hand on yours was so calming and warm that you wanted more. 

“Alright,” you whisper. “But If you are in any pain you need to let me know.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I promise. Now get that pretty ass up here,” he pats his shoulders. 

“This is such a bad idea,” you mumble to yourself as you slip off your pants while Bakugou lowered the head of the bed. This could go wrong in so many ways but the longer you thought about his tongue on you the less you cared. 

“Fuck baby,” Bakugou groaned, “Climb up, you won’t hurt me.” 

You toss your pants to the side and do as he said. Climbing up onto his bed and carefully lowering yourself over his face. Your face was burning at the thought of what all he could see. Needing support, you grab ahold of the headboard. After all you did not want to hurt him. Bakugou was not having that. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down until you had no choice but to rest your weight on his face. 

“Wait, you could hurt yourself,” you protested breathlessly. 

He only laughed, his hot breath teasing your aching cunt. He sat still under you for a few minutes letting you get adjusted to the feeling of his touch, and it let him soak in the sight of you above him. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled against the soft skin of your thighs. Not wanting to move too fast he first places a few sloppy kissing along with your inner thigh, giving you ample time to mentally prepare for his mouth on your cunt. 

You try to stop yourself from shaking but it was impossible. It had been months since someone had touched you and to have Bakugou beneath you, ready to worship your body, was almost too much for your brain to process. 

Bakugou’s mouth teased your other thigh before settling on your already soaking wet pussy.

“That’s my good girl, already wet for me. This pretty pussy knows who it belongs to, but does its owner?” 

“Bakugou stop talking to my pussy and get to work,” you growl. 

“Tsk, when did you become so greedy?” The hands on your thighs shift around until they were able to spread open your sex giving him complete access to you.

“You are lucky I miss this just as much as you do or I would tease you for hours. Tie your ass to the bed and not let you leave until neither of us could move.” 

You rock your hips trying to egg him on, “Sounds to me like you are all talk.” 

The hands on your thighs tighten forcing you to put all your weight onto his face. You try to pull yourself up, not wanting to suffocate your boyfriend but he refuses and goes straight for the kill. His soft wet tongue drags a straight line up the slit of your cunt, gathering up your juices. 

Your hands abandon the headboard and thread through his hair. Bakugou groaned, settling into feasting on your cunt. His soft lips slide through your folds, looking for your hidden button. 

“Ah please Bakugou,” you beg, “it feels so good.” 

You could feel his smile against your skin before his mouth latches onto your throbbing clit, dragging it into his mouth. 

While his lips teased your clit, one hand left your thigh to snake around under you. You lurch forward as two thick fingers slip through your folds, wetting themselves in your slick before they gently press at your entrance. 

Your hips buck away from the combined sensations fearing to be too much but Bakugou was not having it, he strengthened his hold on your thighs and pushed you down on his fingers. You sob at the feeling of being stretched, it had been so long the burn was more intense than normal. 

“Fuck baby you are so tight around my fingers, I can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock,” he groaned. 

“Bakugou,” you whined. “You can’t just say things like that.” 

He releases your clit with a pop, “Like what? Like how I want to feast on this pussy until you are all I can taste for weeks. Like how by the time I am done with you, you will be a sobbing mess that I will have to take care of. Just listen to this sloppy pussy take my fingers. Fuck baby people would kill for even a sliver of this cunt but too bad for them it is all mine.” 

You shove a fist in your mouth to stifle a loud moan. The last thing either of you needed was someone barging in. 

Bakugou pulled your aching bud back between his lips and got to work. The two fingers inside you started to pump, curling to hit your sweet spot each time they were inside you. His delicious tongue flicked up and down on your clit driving you mad. 

Trusting you would not run away he releases your other thigh and reaches under your shirt. His large hand stroked up your stomach, caressing the skin there before latching onto one of your nipples. He pinches the soft peak between his fingers, rolling it until it pebbles. You arch your back into his hand and start to rock your hips wanting more. 

Bakugou moans into your cunt, able to tell you were growing lost in the pleasure. He loved it when you were too engrossed with feeling good to care about anything except him. 

Looking down in between your legs you could see his light blonde hair peeking out from the apex of your thighs and had a devilish idea. 

“Bakugou stick out your tongue,” you order. 

He releases you from his mouth and looks up, his chin soaking with your juices, “What?” 

“Stick out your tongue, like this,” You show him with your own mouth. 

A spark of recognition flashed in his eyes and he smiled. Good, he liked the idea too. With no delay, his tongue stuck out of his mouth. You reach down and spread yourself open, settling back over Bakugou’s eager tongue. His fingers abandon you in favor of holding onto your ass while you dig your fingers into his hair. 

With both of you settled you slowly begin to rock your hips, riding his tongue. You start off slowly, watching closely for any sign Bakugou was not comfortable but judging by his growl of pleasure you would say he is just fine. 

A red hot warmth started to grow in the lower half of your body, slowly spreading its tingle to your lower belly. Fuck, the image of Bakugou beneath you, letting your ride his face was almost too much to process. 

“Oh god Bakugou,” you moan. “Please, it feels so good.” 

He could only groan in response, his mouth too busy bringing you to your peak. When you looked down at him between your legs you could only see his bright lust filled eyes. They were intensely watching you fall apart. 

White spots started to grow in your vision and you increase the speed of your thrusts. The fingers in his hair tighten, now holding onto him for dear life. It only took a few more rocks of your hips before the white spots grew into a blinding white light.

Overwhelming waves crashed into you, sending glorious pleasure pulsing through you. Your body was not your own as the electricity ran through you making every muscle grow taunt and release in a never-ending cycle. 

Bakugou redoubled his effort, not letting you even finish your first peak before he was building you up to another. The idea that you would feel that pleasure again was enough to make you mad. 

His fingers slipped into your clenching entrance and curled forward, teasing your sweet spot. His lips returned to your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth and lashing at the tender bud with his tongue. 

You release his hair, afraid you will rip it out, and hold onto the headboard as all the clenching tension finally releases, sending you spiraling. Loud wanton moans ripped from your throat and you could do nothing to stop them. 

Bakugou toyed with you until you could no longer hold yourself upright. Only then did he gently lift you off his face and down onto his lap. You slouch over and rest your forehead on his shoulder. The world around you was fuzzy, your mind still reeling from how hard you finished. 

“Wait, Bakugou you are not supposed to be lifting anything!” You yell when your mind finally returns to reality. 

“Tsk, I already told you I am fine.” 

You fought the urge to slap him, “You idiot what if you had busted open your stitches!” 

“You did not seem too worried about that when you were rubbing your cunt on my tongue.” 

“Well, obviously I was not thinking straight,” you mumble. Damn him for being right. 

Bakugou gives you a sly smile, “You know I am feeling a little sore.” 

Regret slams into you, “Damn it Bakugou, I was worried this would happen. Where are you hurting.”

His hips thrust upwards forcing his rock-hard cock against your ass. “Right there baby.”

You flick your finger against his forehead, “I was really worried you asshole.”  

“But it aches, won’t you make it feel better?” 

“You are lucky you are hot,” you whisper into his ear before carefully descending his body. You settle in between his legs, pulling down the blankets to free his cock. 

You have to stop and stare at it. Everything about your boyfriend had to be perfect. His cock was long and proud, resting on his stomach with a small tuft of blonde pubic hair at the base. His cock had one large vein running up the length of it, pulsing with each heartbeat. God, you wanted to trace that vein with your tongue. 

Reaching up you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He was so warm on your hand, like your own personal space heater. You shuffle your body to get your mouth a little close to his cock and then before he could say anything bring the head of his cock into your mouth. 

His reaction was instant, his hands shot down to grab at the sheets beside your head. You could feel his hips flex under you as he fought the urge to thrust up into your mouth. 

Feeling emboldened by his reaction you relaxed the muscles in your jaw and took more of his length into your mouth. His salty flavor spilled across your tongue as he started to release pre-cum. Your poor baby had gone too long without any attention. 

Redoubling your effort you bring up your free hand and wet it with your spit. Reaching under your busy mouth you slide your finger down until you find Bakugou’s tight entrance. 

“Hey, what do you think you are doing?” Bakugou growls, grabbing your wrist. 

You let his cock fall out of your mouth and look up innocently, “I am making you feel good baby, just lay back and relax. I promise this will feel good.” 

He looked conflicted but slowly the iron-clad grip on your wrist loosened enough to set you free. Not waiting for him to change his mind you begin to circle his hole with your wet finger. Before you could even try to push your finger forward you needed him to relax. You return to teasing his aching cock with your mouth, sucking on his tip just the way he likes all the while circling your finger around his hole, waiting for him to relax enough for you to slip it in. 

As you take another inch of him into your mouth you could feel him relax enough to slip your finger slip past the tight ring of muscle. You could feel Bakugou tense so you did not move the finger forward, giving him time to adjust to the intrusion. 

With your tongue on his dick it was easy enough to distract him as you slowly inch your finger in. Once you went in far enough you twist your finger around, looking for a soft spongy spot inside him. A sharp thrust up into your mouth signaled you had found exactly what you were looking for. 

“What the fuck,” Bakugou groaned, his hands going to hide his face. You smirk, finally, you were the one driving him insane. 

You benign to move your hand and mouth on his cock in time with your finger in his ass. Small pathetic whines were leaving Bakugou’s mouth and you felt like a god. You were so engrossed in bringing him pleasure you had no time to think about anything else. 

You could hear his breathing begin to grow more labored and his cock grow even harder in your mouth. “Fuck, baby I am going to-” Was the only warning you had before his cum shot to the back of your throat. 

You swallow his release down, making sure to ease your hold on his cock, now only gently pumping your hand and finger to lengthen his orgasm. 

Slowly the pulsing of his cock stopped and you released him from your mouth, wiping the spit on your chin off with the back of your hand. You could not help but smile as you watched Bakugou slowly come back into the real world with a beautiful dazed look on his face. 

He slid his hand under your chin and lifted your head to meet his eyes, “Where the fuck did you learn that?” 

“Being away from you for this long made me desperate so I watched a couple of videos to make it easier.” 

“Right,” he said breathlessly, “You need to show me that shit later if it taught you that.”

You laugh, “Gladly. Now lay down you need your rest.” 

Bakugou tilts his head, “What the hell do you mean rest? I have not been away from you for too long, I can rest later. Now I am going to get my cock into that tight pussy.” 

“Bakugou you just finished.” 

“So,” he thrusts his hips up, rubbing his already erect cock against your ass. 

“How?” You ask in amazement. 

“I have been fantasizing about fucking you for months baby. Did you really think once would be enough to satisfy me?” 

Without waiting another minute his hands grab into your hips and lift you up. Lining your entrance up with the tip of his cock. In a flash you involuntarily tense your body, the memories of that night rushing back into your head. No, no, no, not now, not when you were so close to being one with Bakugou again. 

His bright red eyes meet yours as he feels you tense. Fuck, why did you always mess everything up, this was all your fault. Why could you not just be normal, that is what he deserved a nice normal happy girl. 

“Hey,” Bakugou whispered softly. “Talk to me, what is wrong.” 

You wanted to keep your lips shut, to pretend that everything was fine but that would be lying. You never wanted to lie to him. 

“I can’t stop thinking about Mimic. One minute I am fine and the next he is all I can see.” 

Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed, “You were fine with what we did earlier? What triggered it?” 

You shake your head, “It is different every time. It is just hard for my mind to differentiate from my Bakugou and the one Mimic made.” 

“So call me Katsuki.” 

“Huh?” 

“If you are having a hard time with there being two Bakugou’s, then try calling me Katsuki. That way there is at least one easy way to tell me apart from him.” 

“You want me to call you by your first name?” 

His eyes softened, “Yeah baby, I want you to call me by my first name.” 

“Katsuki,” You test his name out, loving how it feels on your tongue. You watch his face to see his reaction and see lust fill his gaze. Oh he liked it.

You start to whisper his name over and over again, like a prayer to remind yourself you were no longer under Mimics thumb. You were with the man who would kill anything that tried to hurt you.

“If you keep saying my name like that baby I am going to fuck you,” Katsuki growled into your ear.

Oh would he now? You wiggle your hips, teasing the head of your cock with your dripping slit. Pulling him in close you whisper one little word, “Katsuki.”

“You asked for it,” He laughed, hauling your hips back up until they hovered over his cock.

The hands on your hips gripped down with bruising force and his cock slipped into your entrance. All the play from earlier had left you more than prepared enough to take his length. The familiar burn started as his cock sank deeper inside you, opening you wide for him.

“By the time I am finished with you, this tight cunt is going to be fucking dripping in my cum. I am going to fill you to the fucking brim.”

A low groan was your only response he bottomed out inside you, his cock leaving no space unfilled. You could damn near feel him in the back of your throat. Normally he would be the one to initiate thrusting but you were growing too impatient.

Bracing your hands on his chest, careful to avoid his bandages, you lift your hips up until only the tip of his cock was inside. Then you slam your hip down, marveling at the feel of him entering you again.

His cock was perfect for hitting all the sweet spots inside you. Not wanting to be left out Katsuki grab ahold of your ass and uses his own strength to strengthen each thrust.  

You look down to where you both were joined and almost came on the spot. The sight of his cock pistoning into you was mind-shattering. He looked like a god beneath you. His large muscles building with effort, the thick veins in his arms standing elevated.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his bright red eyes filled with determination. “Right now you are mine, that means the only thing you are allowed to think about is me. About how good my cock feels splitting you open. Is that clear?”

You weakly nod your head, too overwhelmed to speak. A soft smile spreads across his face, “That is my baby, so good for me.”

His praise felt like a caress on your skin. You needed to distract yourself or this would end too soon. You lean forward and press your lips onto his. His tongue glided along the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You happily opened your mouth allowing his tongue to slip inside. The taste of his spit was mixed with your own flavor, and you still had some of his taste on your tongue. The combined flavor was so fucking lewd and hot.

The familiar tingled started to grow in your pussy, you were not going to last long. The muscles in your legs begin to tremble making your thrusts grow sloppy. Katsuki was not having it. His hips rose to meet yours, forcing your body to endure even more pleasure all the while he toyed with your mouth.

It all became too much, the different sensations all worked together to drive you up, higher and higher you were climbing until it was hard to even breathe. Then, just like that, all the pressure released sending you spiraling.

Your pussy clamped down on his cock, forcing Katsuki to erupt. The thought of him filling you only lengthened the brutal pleasure filling your mind. There was no room in your mind for anything but him. You had no care in the world but him just like he ordered. 

As the pulses of pleasure slowed you were able to finally catch your breath. You both laid still in each others arms for a few minutes, letting you come slowly back to earth. Of all the times the two of you fucked this definitely had to be in the top three. Though they did say that makeup sex was the best. 

“How are you feeling?” Katsuki asked, his voice rough. 

You rest your ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, “I feel good.” 

He places a soft kiss on your forehead, “Do you think you are ready for me to come home?” 

You take the time to think about it. Having him back in your life did not set off fear like it used to. Instead, it made you feel warm inside. You looked forward to going to bed with him instead of dreading it. 

“Yeah,” you smile. “Yeah, I am.” 

The arms around your waist tighten pulling you impossibly closer to his chest. You snuggle in closer, getting comfortable. Katsuki would never admit it but lying here with you in his arms safe and happy was one of the happiest moments in his life. 

Neither of you was healed from what had happened but you refused to push him away again. You will get past what happened and you will do it with him by your side.