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blu-joons · 3 years

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Our Little Girl ~ Jeon Jungkook

Pairing: Expecting Dad!Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Slightly descriptive pregnancy, labour and birth

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Your little girl has been what the two of you have dreamt of for so long, finally the time has come to welcome her into the world with Jungkook by your side.

“You know, for a man that’s about to raise a daughter for the next eighteen years at least, you’re looking rather cocky.”

Jungkook could only smile from the other side of the room as a grimace danced upon your face at the feeling of another contraction hitting you. You’d lost count of the hours you’d been almost doubled over in bed some time ago, barely able to keep your eyes open at the excruciating pain that you found yourself in. With each passing breath, the gaps of relief that came between contractions became smaller and smaller, almost unbearable.

You’d watched plenty of documentaries before your pregnancy to know what to expect, and yet as you found yourself staring forwards at the figure of your husband, keeping his distance from your growing temper, none of what you saw on the television seemed to play out before you. Under watery eyes, you could just make out the time on the clock hanging just above Jungkook’s head, 3:15am. You scoffed at the sight, doubting even in yourself how much longer you could go through such an ordeal. Despite the several months you’d had to lead up to this moment, not a single part of it could truly prepare you for what was to come.

As another struck against the pit of your stomach, Jungkook raced back across to your side, resting his hands over your reddened ones that gripped tightly onto the rails beside your bed. Murmurs of encouragement came from him, words you’d listened to him repeat for countless hours, and still each time they somehow managed to make your heart a little bit happier. As he counted you through the breaths to see you through, his free hand brushed over your hair, ignoring the beads of sweat that had formed in your hairline as best as he possibly could, focusing on the task at hand and being the best possible husband instead.

“You’re doing so incredibly well,” he whispered as he noticed that the pain was beginning to subside once again, offering you the best possibly smile he could muster, hiding his own feelings of exhaustion that were beginning to come through. Your head nodded, tilting slightly to the left, biting down on your bottom lip until you were sure that the contraction had subsided. A small wriggle from your little one let you know they were done for the time being, waiting patiently, or impatiently, to make their grand entrance.

“You’re getting close now,” your midwife called out, stood in the doorway, keeping an eye on the corridor as she had done for most of the evening, and night. “I must admit, I’ve not seen many women get through labour as well as you have for quite some time Y/N.”

“I’m not really left with much of an alternative to get through it right now,” you sighed, throwing your body back against the bed, allowing the sweat ridden sheets to wrap around you. The end never seemed to quite be in sight, no matter how many times her cheery voice suggested otherwise. In fact, if Jisoo wasn’t quite such a sweetheart, you’d have probably given her what for a long time ago with all of her reassurances.

“She’s a strong girl, I always told you that,” Jungkook whispered from the side of you, grinning proudly across at the elder woman. “So strong I think I might end up having to take up one of your beds soon with a couple of broken knuckles, are women supposed to squeeze this hard when they’re in labour?”

Jisoo’s head nodded, having told you about her four kids several times throughout the night, she had experience on both sides. She’d seen it all, broken hands, broken noses, but best of all, hundreds of humans enter the world.

“Y/N you do what you want, ignore your husband,” she teased.

Once again, your head could only manage a nod, too consumed by the everchanging feelings that were going on around your bump to truly pay much attention to what was being said around you. The beep of the heart monitor, murmurs of passers-by, shrieks of other women in the ward all seemed to amalgamate into one at this point.

“I don’t think we’ll have to wait around much longer for baby to arrive,” she advised the two of you, “but things are only going to get worse, are you sure that I can’t get you anything?”

“No,” you muttered, despite a concerned Jungkook looking down at your tired figure, “I said that I was going to try and do this naturally, and until I can’t take it anymore, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“No one would think any less of you if you wanted an epidural,” Jungkook reminded you, moving his hand back across to rest over your now much calmer one. “Or maybe gas if you’re not feeling a needle? We saw it on that programme, remember?”

“We spent an hour laughing at a woman too high to even push,” you scolded, shaking your head at the memory. It had tickled you at the time, but the more you thought about not being able to remember your baby’s birth like she had, the more off-putting it became.

“It’s all here just in case,” Jisoo spoke up anyway, pointing across to a small table that was at the back of the delivery room, “too many women change their minds last minute and then we have to leap into action with it all.”

“I bet you might end up having another case like that, she’s a stubborn one,” Jungkook joked.

“Excuse me, I’ll have you- “

You were cut off by another pain stabbing against your side, hurling your body forwards, instantly gripping tighter onto Jungkook’s hand, causing him to yelp. He sat further up in his seat, throwing his free arm around your back, tracing circles against the exposed bit of skin your hospital gown showed off. Your body didn’t have much time to react, snapping your eyes around to look at Jungkook, searching for any bit of help he could offer. Instead, he could only stare helplessly back at you, there was nothing that he could do to truly take away your pain, nothing that would make the experience better for you in that moment, instead all he could promise was to be the best possible father and husband once your little girl eventually decided to come into the world.

As the pain fell aside once again, you leant across to rest against Jungkook’s shoulder, soaking his grey tee, not that he minded, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

“So strong,” he whispered against your skin, as he had done tens, if not hundreds of times since your water broke in the very early hours of the previous day.

“I feel so weak,” you hummed in response to him, loosening your grip against his hand once again, holding onto only his index finger, admiring the tattoos that he wore so proudly. “I always thought I was strong Kook, but even this might be too much for me.”

His head shook instantly at your words, searching across to Jisoo for a small piece of reassurance that could remind you how good of a job you were doing in delivering your miracle.

“Soon,” her voice called out, although it wasn’t much, it was a small bit of hope that you could hold onto that your ordeal would be done soon. You adored Jungkook, but the calls of the professional who had taken such good care of you made you feel a lot better in an instant.

“Soon,” Jungkook reiterated, tightening the hold that he had around your waist, inviting you to relax into his side as opposed to the bed that you’d been on for hours. “This will all be worth it; you just have to remember that through the hard times.”

Another hum came from you, tracing aimlessly against his calloused skin. “I wish it was as easy for me to believe that as it is for you to say it right now.”

“Y/N,” he whispered, kissing against your forehead once again, “please don’t start giving up on any of this right now.”

“I’m just tired,” you whined, fighting the urge to give your eyes even a second to close out of fear of what might happen if you did. “Every part of me is so tired right now.”

“I get it,” Jungkook assured you, refusing to let you go through the fight alone, “I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this is for you right now my love.”

“Are you sure it’s too late for us to swap positions?” You joked, trying to remove the negativity that ran through your mind, “I think you’d love to be in labour secretly.”

“You know I would if I could, in a heartbeat,” he sniggered, raising his free hand up innocently, “it’s just such a shame that you’re the one that’s got to go through this. Trust me though, it’s not easy being a spectator, seeing you in so much pain is breaking my heart, I can only watch in awe of what an incredible woman you are.”

“You’ve got a good one there, Y/N,” Jisoo called out as she busied herself in the room, paperwork in hand, unable to stop herself tuning into your conversation. “You’d be surprised how many husbands sit back and relax during a time like this.”

“See, you’ve got a good one,” Jungkook continued to joke, tapping lightly against your arm, “can I get that in writing to remind her of this when this is all over?”

“I can change my mind,” Jisoo responded, drawing a light giggle out of you as the two of them continued to exchange innocent threats for a few minutes, until you chose to interrupt.

The mood of the room instantly turned sombre as a loud groan came from you, leaning forwards once again, breathing under the command of your husband. Whilst Jisoo continued to notice how much quicker your contractions came, Jungkook was solely focused on you, counting each time, resting his hands where you needed them, offering his shoulder back for you to rest on as soon as the contraction finished once again.

“I think I’ve decided something,” you whispered across to Jungkook once you’d caught your breath, “we are definitely only having the one child.”

“But I thought we agreed on an army,” he smirked, earning himself a slap against the bicep from you, although with your strength, the strike was pretty weak, even by your own high standards. Still, Jungkook grabbed at his arm, gasping at the sudden strength that had come over you. “Jisoo will tell you, I bet loads of women say that, but once they remember how sexy their husbands are, a quick trip to the bedroom, and suddenly baby number two comes along.”

“Have you ever met a man who makes sex sound so unappealing?” You asked Jisoo before she even had the time to respond to Jungkook’s comment. “It’s rather confident of you to assume that you’re that sexy anyway.”

Rather than answer either of you, Jisoo made her way across to you, asking Jungkook to give the two of you a bit of space as she checked how far dilated you were. You’d counted down almost every single centimetre, as if your little girl enjoyed teasing you before she was even a part of your world. Each time you hoped for the magic number, but each time Jisoo had muttered something else. You’d almost lost onto your last stretch of hope, that was until you looked across, noticing a wry smile etched across her face.

Before she even said the words, you knew exactly what the smile meant. As if your contractions hadn’t made things obvious enough, the expression on her face was the final touch you needed to know that at last that end was somewhat in sight. Once she called Jungkook back across to your side, his eyes locked with yours, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile, extending his arm out for your hand to intertwine with his. The relief was clear on your face, and in your hold, your body was in turmoil, but now it seemed as if you could finally begin to settle.

You were all too aware that there was a long road ahead of you, but just the thought of pushing appealed to your body and every part of you that was crying out for a rest.

“Ten centimetres,” Jungkook whispered beside you, “I bet that feels pretty good.”

“It feels pretty good,” you smirked, keeping your eyes on him as he sat back down in the chair at your bedside. “I had no idea the body could stretch as big as this, it’s surreal.”

Although he hadn’t taken too close of a look at everything that was going on at the foot of your bed, Jungkook had done enough research to know just how your body was changing. From the very first sign of a bump, Jungkook had waited impatiently for the moment that he finally got to see your little girl come into the world, the final change that would complete what the two of you had dreamt of for so many months.

“I love you,” his voice then whispered, just as your eyes looked away from his and down to your bump, “and our baby, I love our baby too.”

“I love you too,” you smiled, quickly looking back at him, “our little one is the luckiest girl in the world to have you.”

What came over the next few minutes felt like a blur to you, several instructions were sent your way, your body reshuffled with your legs propped up, pillows placed behind your back, and a towel dabbed against your head, but one thing remained, the hold of Jungkook’s hand tightly against yours, refusing to leave your side as the first few pushes began.

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, just after the first few. You’d hoped for some sort of immediate impact, but your baby made no sign of movement instead. If you hadn’t spent hours laid in the hospital bed, you would have given up there and then, but there was one man that was never going to let you do that.

“Patience,” was all that Jungkook had to say, desperate to try and calm you down as he noticed how flustered you became. His hands pressed against your red cheeks before wiping underneath your watery eyes, failing to withhold the pressures that were placed before you.

Whilst labour was never something you expected to be a walk in the park, you could never have prepared yourself for the overwhelming feelings of pain that you’d end up enduring throughout your labour.

“If I push one more time, my body is going to cave,” you admitted, leaning against the cold metal of the rail against the bed. Jungkook’s head instantly shook, moving his arm around you to pick you back up, holding your back against the palm of his large hand.

“You’re far too strong to give up now,” he smiled, standing up from his chair to press a kiss against the side of your head, “there’s still pain relief if you want it, no one is going to think any less of you if that’s what you choose to do,” he reminded you once again, but still your head shook, you’d had plans for how your labour was going to go, and a natural birth was always top of your list of things that you wanted to see through. “Just hold my hand, and don’t break any of my bones and I promise that we’ll get through this together.”

Your eyes rolled at his warning, pinching especially hard against his hand to keep him on his toes, and make sure that he kept his mouth shut too.

“I’m only messing with you,” he whimpered, shaking at your hand for you to loosen your grip around him. “Just try and keep positive babe, we’ve jumped over too many hurdles over the past day to give up now. This one might just be a little bit bigger, but I know more than anything else in the world that you’re going to get over it.”

Your eyelids slowly fluttered shut, letting go of a shaky breath in the hope that it would keep you so composed. Rather than focus on the pain that came from your bump, your mind focused on the traces that Jungkook ran along the back of your hand, just like you’d done against his only a couple of hours ago.

“I just want to hold her and be done with this,” you continued to vent, opening your eyes back up, flinching slightly at the bright lights that came from all four corners of the room you’d somehow ended up calling home.

“I mean it when I say not much longer this time,” Jisoo smiled from the foot of the bed, perched on a stool, keeping a close eye on proceedings. “It’s natural to feel like you want to throw in the towel, there’s often a bit of a wait between dilation and pushing, not feeling anything can sometimes feel worse than the pain of a contraction.”

“You’re spot on,” you responded, forcing the smallest of smiles to your face, hearing a gentle giggle come from Jungkook. “At least the pain let me know that she was definitely moving.”

As if on cue, your baby began to make her presence known again, with Jungkook rising to his feet once again when he noticed how quickly you shot forwards. His arm reached out across your chest to stop you moving too far forwards, just as Jisoo had advised.

Something about this contraction just felt different for you though, as if your little girl was giving you a sign that she really was on her way. Although you couldn’t feel her drop, the pain certainly did. The smile on your face instantly captured Jungkook’s attention, unsure if he should worry, or be pleased to see a sign of happiness in your expression.

“I can feel her,” you whispered across to him before he even had the chance to ask, “it’s like she’s letting me know she’s on her way Kook.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He anxiously queried, looking across to Jisoo who’s head nodded. “She really is on her way, our little girl.”

“Our little girl,” you repeated, feeling his hands press to either side of your face, just managing to press the softest of kisses against your puckered lips before another contraction hit. His left arm instantly moved around your waist as his right hand held onto yours, it had become second nature for Jungkook now to step each time that your body called out for him, a murmur of his name was all that he needed to know exactly what you wanted from him, and as another contraction passed, he was relieved when he could sit back down again.

As soon as it passed, both you and Jungkook stared across to Jisoo, desperate for any sort of update she had on how things were going.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” she assured you, “plenty of pushes coming up Y/N.”

“R-really?”

“Hey,” a deep voice whispered beside you, brushing his thumb back across the pad of your hand, drawing your eyes across to him with the sound of your voice. “It’s going to be alright, we’ve talked about all of this, the two of us are here, and very soon our little girl will be here soon, remember why you’re doing this Y/N.”

“Pushing feels so real,” you slightly chuckled, feeling the beat of your heart quicken in your chest, “are you sure it’s really time to push?”

“Absolutely,” a cheery Jisoo smiled from the foot of the bed, repositioning your legs slightly so that you were a little more stretched out. “When the next contraction comes, I want you to take a big deep breath, and then lots of little pushes, let your body guide you rather than you guide your body. Listen to my voice, and most of all, listen to Jungkook too, he sounds like he has all the right things to say to you.”

“That’s exactly how we got into this position,” you sighed, shooting a glare in his direction.

“Unfortunately, it’s exactly how you’re going to get out of this position too,” Jisoo grinned, shaking her head as Jungkook leaned forwards to try and give her a high five. “Just support your wife,” she smiled, “I’ve spent less then a day with this guy and I’m struggling to see how you’ve managed to put up with him for so many years.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” you called out, just as another contraction came. The mutters of ‘push,’ that came from both of the people beside you instantly set your body in motion, clutching tightly onto the rail, and Jungkook’s hand as you tried to push down as best as you could, grimacing at the pain.

By the time the contraction had passed, you could feel how quickly your bottom lip was beginning to swell, pouting across at Jungkook, who was unable to hide his surprise when he noticed how red your lip was.

“Still beautiful,” he complimented, leaning forwards once again to press a kiss against the reddened skin, “and so strong too. Who knew I managed to marry such a strong woman?” He questioned, receiving no answer from either of you. It came as little surprise to him, instead he grabbed the towel that was beside him and dabbed it gently over your forehead, and your lip too, trying to make the swelling as minimal as possible before you bit down again.

As another contraction soon came around, you couldn’t quite get your head around at how surreal it was suddenly all becoming. You’d sat with your little girl nested in your tummy for two days short of nine months, and now you could slowly feel her making her way down to enter the world. All of the fears and the doubts that you’d had about labour had been torn apart, your dreams had been blown so far out of proportion, no part of what you were doing felt real anymore. But for the two of you, it felt like the best, and worst, experience in the world, the pain had been hard, but slowly it was beginning to feel as if it was worth it for you both.

When the next contraction came around, the sound of Jisoo’s voice stopped you from biting down on your bottom lip, feeling her hand move a little further up your leg, carefully pushing your legs a little further apart, surprising even you by how flexible you suddenly were.

“I can feel something,” you nervously whispered, looking across to Jungkook who was trying to get the best look he could at what was going on from beside you.

“No need to worry,” Jisoo instantly replied to you, “but I can definitely see the first signs of your little girl.”

“Really?” You chuckled, feeling Jungkook’s head turn to look back across at you. His eyes looked at you for permission, as your head slowly nodded, encouraging him to stand up from his seat and walk across, peering over your leg to where the first sightings of your little one’s head could be seen. A quiet gasp came from Jungkook, squeezing gently against your hand, feeling his eyes watering at the sight before him.

“She already looks beautiful,” he whispered up to you, “I can’t believe she’s all ours Y/N.”

“I wish I could see,” you chuckled, trying your hardest to look past your bump, but failing with ease. You couldn’t help but laugh, remembering all the times you’d failed to see your feet, or bend down to change your shoes, only now, at the most important time, your bump had stopped you from getting your first glimpse of your little girl. A small part of you couldn’t help but be slightly envious that Jungkook had such a clear view from beside you of everything that was going on.

However, as soon as your next contraction hit, Jungkook’s attentions were turned straight back to you, sitting back down in a heartbeat as more encouraging whispers came from him. He’d never told you how proud and how in love he was with you than he had done today, but he also knew he could never love you more than the moment you brought his child into the world.

The late nights, early mornings, and everything that came in between during your pregnancy had been hard on you both, but everything that you needed from Jungkook, he did with a smile. He could never appreciate enough how incredible your body was to carry his little girl, to nurture her so perfectly and give her such good health. There was simply never going to be enough that he could do to repay you for everything that you’d given him over the last nine months, and for the rest of his life too.

“Y/N, keep pushing!” Jisoo’s voice called out, snapping you out of the small daydream that you found yourself in. By the sound of her voice, you knew that something significant was happening, with adrenaline the only thing keeping you going, you did as she said, pushing as hard as you could, paying close attention to the sound of Jungkook’s voice, the only thing that had kept you going through out.

“She’s coming,” he whispered, flickering his eyes between you and your baby, noticing how quickly she seemed to be arriving. Your head nodded, repeating his words over and over again in your head, the only boost of motivation that you needed to dig in to somewhere you didn’t know you had, using up every last ounce of energy that you possibly could.

“Kook,” you whimpered, as you felt the contraction begin to collapse again.

“Just one more,” Jisoo then called out.

“You can do it,” he urged, leaning closer in towards you.

Although your head shook, your body still pushed, and soon the cries of your little girl could be heard ringing throughout the room, as tears fell from both yours and Jungkook’s eyes, feeling his hand slip out of yours so that you could collapse down against the bed.

“I love you, you’re incredible,” he chimed, giving you a moment before leaning over you, brushing the hair out of your face, coupled with a lingering kiss against your forehead, ignoring the droplets of tears that fell from his cheeks against your own. “She’s here Y/N.”

In just a matter of moments, Jungkook moves away from your side, replaced with your little girl settling against your bare chest, with Jisoo dabbing away at her to remove the markings of blood, stretching out of her limbs and making sure to clear out her airways.

As your eyes looked down at her for the very first time, your breath was taken by what was before you. “Wow,” was all you could whisper as you studied every fine detail of the bundle you held tightly against your chest. “Look at you,” you soon added, sniffling back the tears that fell.

Jungkook’s hand reached across, wiping underneath your eyes, perching himself on the end of his bed. He used the tip of his thumb to trace over the top of her head, feeling along her arms, staring in awe of how tiny each digit of her hand was. Neither of you could look away from her, all expectation you had had been succeeded, unable to comprehend what you had just endured.

“Our little girl,” Jungkook whispered, leaving a kiss against the top of your head with his words. It had been the saying you’d had for her since the moment you found out it was a girl that you were expecting, and yet somehow neither of you could correlate that the little girl you’d wished for was finally in front of you both.

“Congratulations,” Jisoo spoke after a few moments, scribbling down on some papers attached to her clipboard. “I’ll give you both a second to adjust, you’re new parents after all.”

“We’re parents,” Jungkook muttered in a moment of disbelief, continuing to stare wide-eyed at your daughter, silently reiterating the promises he’d made to her most nights when he laid beside your bump, trying to help you get to sleep. Although she was still attached to you for a moment through the umbilical cord, his body was itching to get his first hold of his little girl, feel the body and the heart he was going to protect for the rest of his life. “Thank you,” he whispered across to you once he finally looked away from her, “it’s never going to be enough, but thank you for being so strong, and for being the best wife, and mum in the world.”

“How can you say that when I’ve only been a mum for five minutes?” You teased, bringing a smile to Jungkook’s face. His eyes rolled at the chuckle that followed your question, knowing if it wasn’t for your little one, he’d be attacking your side in an instant.

“I just know, call it instinct,” he assured you, “and I’m going to make sure that this little girl knows what a special mummy she’s got to. I’ll never let her take you for granted, just like I never will, ever again. I’m in your debt forever, nothing can make up for all of this.”

“You know, we can’t call her our little girl forever,” you hummed, noticing how quickly Jungkook’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name. Several had been exchanged between the two of you, and yet one always seemed to stand out to you both, almost as if it was just meant to be, her name was her destiny.

“Is it still the one that you want?” Jungkook asked, making sure you didn’t have any doubts.

“Just looking at her, she suits it,” you hummed, taking any excuse that you could to get a glance of your daughter. “Don’t you think, it’s perfect for her?”

Jungkook’s head nodded, leaning across your body to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head, treating her as if she was the most delicate thing in the world. As her name fell from his lips for the very first time, Jungkook knew you were right, it was perfect for her, and the perfect name to complete your family too.

“Can you believe we have her forever?” You asked him, brushing your thumb over the top of her head, “we don’t ever have to give this one back, or keep her only for a night. We never have to let her go, she’s ours, always.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever believe that I’ve been so blessed with the two of you,” he giggled in his confession, “every day, my little girl, and my incredible wife, I will love you.”

“She’ll have you wrapped around her finger in no time, I bet,” you laughed, “if she’s anything like you, we might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now, because she’ll be causing trouble in no time.”

“I hope she takes after you,” Jungkook acknowledged, staring back at you, “everyone will fall in love with her, just like I did with you.”

“Do you still love me after I almost broke your hand?” You teased, staring across at his still slightly reddened hand.

“Y/N, I have never loved you more than I do right now, and I’ll love you more and more every day. You’ve given me the greatest gift, love just isn’t enough.”

“We love you too,” you smiled across to him, feeling his lips peck against yours.

“I’ll never tire of hearing that.”

---

Masterlist

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gasolineghuleh · 3 years

Text

Brattitude

Commission for @simply-skeletons for a Daddy Dom Aether and a bratty reader!

cw: contains daddy kink, choking, and squirting.

Not SFW below, No minors!

You sigh and stretch, rolling your shoulders and looking along the stretched out dining room table, laden with breakfast foods. Platters of eggs are heaped high alongside plates of bacon and sausage, pitchers of various juices and teas and the occasional scone or biscuit. None of it draws your attention quite as much as the Ghouls, however. The chatter of your fellow Siblings manages to drown out any chance of hearing conversation from the Ghoul table, but you aren’t exactly trying to hear anything— just trying to get his attention. When his pale blue glowing eyes finally turn to you, the zap of sudden attention pierces your core like a lightning bolt. Aether inclines his head towards you gently and mouths a single instruction:

“Eat.” You frown in response, toying with the scrambled eggs on your plate before looking back at him. He’s still watching you, of course, his own piece of semi-raw bacon held tightly between his claws as he waits for you to take a bite. When you shake your head with a smirk, he returns the gesture, inclining his head towards you again. “Now,” he mouths quietly, his tail pointing firmly towards your plate. You can tell that he’s enjoying the game by the way that he’s begun holding himself, subconsciously appearing taller and more in charge than he really is.

No one has noticed your little game besides Rain, sitting directly beside Aether. His eyes move between the two of you as he smiles around his own bites of food, clearly enjoying watching your silent standoff. This only prompts you to push your plate away from yourself and turn your attention to your friends, joining in on their conversation with ease and ignoring your Ghoul for the rest of the meal. When you do finally grab a bite of something to eat, it’s a glazed and sweetened scone rather than something of actual nutritional value. It isn’t until later, when the tables are cleared and everyone is bustling about to leave for their morning activities that you feel Aether’s hand close around your bicep tightly- the points of his claws dig just lightly into your bare arm and you can already feel a thrill going up your spine.

“Being a bit of a spoiled one this morning, are we?” Aether’s warm voice curls around your senses like heated honey and incense smoke before a ritual and you feel yourself going slightly weak in the knees before you recover— you need to have your wits about you in order for this game to work, after all. It’s not one that you play often with him, but one that you know he enjoys almost as much as you do. After all, he always says he’s attracted to more of a brat than a tamed pet anyway.

“Wouldn’t want you to think you have all of the control, after all.” You’re able to meet his gaze, only slightly narrowed in amusement, before your eyes slide off to the side and spot Rain standing slightly behind him, still clutching his morning protein shake— not doubt full of the nutrients he’ll be needing for the strenuous rhythm practice with Mountain he’ll be heading off to shortly. “Good morning, Rain. How are you?” The Ghoul raises an eyebrow when you address him, inclining his head towards you in a silent greeting.

“Better than you’re going to be by the end of it,” he quips with a grin, finding the straw with his lips quickly and giving Aether a nod. With a loud slurp from the shake he wanders off, tail swishing happily.

“You’ve given him enough to be pleased about all day. I hope you’re happy.” Aether’s hand tightens dangerously on your arm once more before he lets go, folding his arms as he watches his musical partner sashay through the large doors and into the Abbey proper. “He loves when one of our pets misbehaves. Just makes him brag about his own.” Rain disappears around the corner of the large door to the meeting hall in the direction of the soundproof music rooms and you hold back a snort of laughter, turning your attention back to your own Ghoul.

“Oh? In that case, yes, I’m very happy.” Your friend calls your name to get your attention, waving you over to them and you nod, beginning to walk away from Aether. Already you can hear his growl of annoyance deep in his chest— it’s been ages since you’ve been bratty with him, and you can tell that the punishment (or perhaps reward) would be worth it… and a long time coming.

“Hey! I’m not done with you, princess,” Aether says, a warning clear in his voice. Despite your better judgement, you persevere with your plan. You can practically feel the tightly controlled scolding simmering below the surface as he grinds the heel of his foot into the carefully waxed stone floor of the dining hall. “Sister-”

“Turns out I am, though! Catch you later, Aeth.” You give him a small wave and blow him a kiss, practically skipping away to join your friends and leave the dining hall. It’s a beautiful day outside and you all have made plans to spend most of it in the orchard, doing absolutely nothing.

It’s one of the few days a month where the Siblings in the Abbey are given free reign to do with their time as they please— no lessons, mass, or scheduled events. As you and your small group of friends find a place on the grass to lay down and relax you can hear the shouts of other Siblings running past, playing games or having spirited discussions. Still, your ear is cocked for any sign of Aether or one of his bandmates keeping an eye on you. You know that at least Rain and Mountain will be mostly preoccupied, but Dew has a penchant for chasing his own pets throughout the Abbey gardens on down days. He and Aether often chat about how they enjoy the “prey and predator” feeling that comes with the territory.

“You know that won’t end well, right?” your friend asks with a groan as she lays down in the grass beside you. Jolted out of your thoughts of being chased by Aether through the surrounding woods, you snap your focus back to your friends. You shrug as best as you can and tuck your arms under your head, content to watch the clouds roll by in puffy formations as you try to shake off the sudden urge to run that’s coursing through your legs like lightning.

“I know what he likes and what he doesn’t. I won’t push him too far,” you explain. One of your friends grumbles in agreement, muttering something about how he’s currently tied up with Dew. Those who have an arrangement with their Ghouls know how far to take things when asked. The sun warms your bones and it doesn’t take long before it feels like you’re practically melting into the Earth. You’re drawn from your reverie when your friend snaps her hand in front of you again, attempting to get your attention. “What? What?”

“I said, ‘he’s looking for you’. Look.” She points in a general direction, masking her gesture with a cough and using her elbow. You roll your eyes good naturedly but look anyway— sure enough, Aether is on the lawn, sitting on a large rock and watching you carefully as he balances a book on his knee. Your other friend, the one currently entangled with Dew, makes a not-so-subtle cooing noise under his breath.

“He’s watching you, isn’t he? Got his eyes on his little pet. Yeah, you got a good Ghoul in that one. Isn’t it great how they watch us sometimes?” Even though your stomach is aflutter from the sudden attention, your friend’s voice still manages to rub you the wrong way— it isn’t lascivious, it’s just some good old fashioned teasing.

“He does that even when I’m not being a brat, in all fairness.” You lift your arm and wave at him, smiling to yourself when he returns the gesture, albeit with a slightly confused expression. “He just loves me, that’s all.” The sun feels excellent on your face and you tilt back towards it, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Aether is the farthest thing from your mind as you and your friends chatter on, linking your hands together and comparing various studies and opinions on everything under the sun.

Soon enough, however, a shadow falls over the three of you. Across the lawn you hear a piercing whistle and are hardly surprised when you look up, finding that it belongs to Dew. When you look beside you to mention this to your friend he’s already gone, sprinting to join his own Ghoul— no doubt eagerly answering the summons that you’ve chosen to ignore for the day. You roll your eyes and look up to what’s causing the shadow, only barely blinking when you notice that it’s Aether.

“You want something for lunch, my princess?” he asks, holding out a small brown bag, no doubt packed with your favourite foods. When you decide to be a brat, he always attempts to sway you back under his thumb with your favourite snacks or books, and it almost always works. The temptation is overwhelming, and you can smell the food already— roast beef, potato chips, and a Twinkie. Your stomach clenches in a small display of hunger, but you screw up your mouth as if you’re thinking about it.

“Oh, here we go,” your friend chirps from beside you. She rolls onto her back deftly and gets up, leaving quicker than you thought was possible. Alone with Aether, you laugh and sit up, patting the grass beside you.

“Perhaps. Sit with me?” Aether nods and sits beside you, opening the paper bag and drawing out the sandwich that you knew lurked inside. You swallow hard, looking at it for a moment until he hands it over to you.

“Are you going to be a good girl for your daddy and eat some proper food, unlike this morning?” Aether inclines his head towards you and holds the sandwich out until you take it greedily, unwrapping it and taking a large bite. Instantly his hand flips and grabs your wrist tightly, squeezing until you look at him, eyes wide. “Slow down. I don’t want you getting sick. Okay?” When you don’t answer instantly, he jerks your hand slightly until you nod, resuming your chewing. “Good girl.”

“I try,” you mumble around the mouthful of sandwich. He smiles and shakes his head, laughing a little as he pats your knee with a large hand.

“I figured as much.” Aether watches you for a moment as you chew in silence before reaching into the bag and drawing out his own sandwich, a partially cooked slab of steak on ciabatta. “Boss made bread again. All of us are having steak sandwiches, courtesy of Cirrus,” he says in answer to your raised eyebrow.

“Is it any good? The bread, I mean.” You swallow an overly large bite and cough a little, noticing with a frown when Aether does nothing to help you through the almost-not-quite-a-choke. He merely waits for you to finish as he chews patiently before answering with a dry smile.

“Hubris. And yes, it is. He has talent.” You roll your eyes at him in a wide circle and toss the last bite of the crust of your sandwich in a far arc into the woods before digging in the bag for the Twinkie that you know is hidden at the bottom. “You still aren’t eating your crusts?” Aether asks in a disapproving tone.

“You know I don’t like them. They’re yucky.” Twinkie retrieved, you pull it out and open the wrapper quickly, poking your tongue out at Aether as you settle back down to eat your treat. “Crusts have no nutritional value, you know.”

“‘Yucky’? It’s bread.” Aether tosses the rest of his own sandwich into his mouth and claps his hands to his thighs. “Right. Lunch break is over. Be in my room at 8, dressed for sleep. Don’t be late.” Before you can open your mouth to respond he’s already unfolded himself from the grass, dusted off his smart black slacks and left.

Your friends eventually migrate back to your area, one of them looking slightly disheveled, and you manage to evade their constant questions about what exactly happened over lunch. Being teased for being a Ghoul pet isn’t exactly a new occurrence, but the attention from Aether in public certainly is— and you’re warming up to it. When you mention this to your friends, one of them perks up a little bit.

“Dew loves it when I brat around in public. But you know what he loves even more?” He leans closer, winking at you when you shy away, suddenly embarrassed at the topic. “When I do it in private. When he can scold me. Trust me, do that to Aether tonight when he asked you to show up for bed. It’ll drive him wild.”

“I mean… You seem to know best, I suppose.” You pause, thinking for a moment before asking the question on the tip of your tongue. “How could I do that?”

“Oh, easy!” your other friend suddenly supplies, flushing when your attention shifts to her. Her eyes focus on the sunset in the distance as she talks, firmly fixing her gaze away from you. “Maybe you just show up… Not quite ready. Maybe one thing is slightly off. With how he’s been acting and how disobedient you’ve been today, maybe it’ll just send him over the edge.” You sit up and stretch before rising to your feet, giving it some thought before you respond.

“I think I can manage that.” With that, you toss your friends a wink and flounce back to the Abbey, a spring in your step as a plan forms in your mind’s eye.

Later, at half past 8 in the evening, you knock loudly on Aether’s door before letting yourself in. The Ghoul has clearly been waiting for you impatiently, as evidenced by his posture on the edge of his bed and the drumming of his claws against the wooden posts holding up the mattress. Aether stands up as soon as you fling his door open, kicking it shut quickly behind you with a hiss.

“I instructed you to be at 8! Sharp!” His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, scanning your outfit before frowning. “And you’re wearing… your habit still? I said come dressed for bed. Sathanas, do you just like to disobey me?”

“Maybe I do,” you offer, your eyes meeting his and not deviating. You watch as his pupils dilate in quick and sudden arousal, his chest widening as his breathing deepens. The tip of his tongue darts out briefly to wet his lower lip and before you know it, his hand is clasped to the back of your neck. Aether’s claws dig briefly into the soft skin at the sides of your neck and you gasp, already bending under the pressure he’s exerting as you fall to your knees.

“Then maybe I like forcing obedience. Did you ever consider that, Sister, hm?” Aether says, his voice becoming a low hiss in your ear as he crouches in front of you, watching as your face gets closer and closer to the ground. Just before your nose hits the carpet he lets go of you roughly, turning and stalking back to his bed before snapping his fingers sharply. “Crawl to daddy, Sister. Show me how sorry you are for disobeying me in front of all of those people today.”

When you look up at him, crawling forward on your hands and knees, you can’t help the thought that he surely does make a pretty sight when he’s seated above you. His eyes are glowing in a mixture of arousal, arrogance and annoyance as he beckons to you with two fingers, pointing at the ground in front of him. You slide your hands reverently up his legs to his knees before continuing along his thighs, pausing when you reach the upper portion of the taut muscles. He just nods, motioning for you to continue before reaching up and tearing off your hair covering, tossing it into a far corner of the room.

“Such a pious little Sister, aren’t you? On your knees for a leader of the church. A true servant.” Aether’s tone is mocking and condescending, but you don’t have the time to be embarrassed at the hot spike of lust that spears through your cunt. His hands pull down his fly and then his cock is in front of you, held at base by his fist and enticingly close to your lips. “Go on then. Serve.”

As soon as you bring your lips to the head of his cock he thrusts forward, his free hand coming to the back of your head and entangling in your hair, now free of the head covering. He groans as you slip yourself lower, dipping your tongue down to caress over his knuckles, making sure to show him how in control you are of yourself. When the head of his cock bumps your soft palate you cough slightly, using the moment to readjust yourself on your knees. His hand grips tighter in your hair, dragging you up along his shaft until he pulls you off of him, gasping and already drooling.

“I love you best like this, you know, princess. Supple and pliant. You’re so willing to just… finally- do everything I say. Isn’t that right?” You nod with difficulty when his fingers tighten in your hair almost painfully as his other hand runs the head of his cock along your lips. Aether hisses inward when your tongue flicks out to greet it, sliding himself past your lips once more and dragging you down until your nose bumps against his pelvis.

You moan around him, shifting on the floor as you feel the nylon of your stockings beginning to stick to you even more with every thrust of his hips. When you gasp inward, choking on his cock until tears roll out of your eyes, he presses his advantage and moves his hands to either side of your face. Aether waits until you make eye contact with him and nods subtly, pressing you down into his lap and holding you there momentarily before letting you up once more as he coos down at you.

“That’s a good girl, princess. You’re being such a good girl for daddy finally, aren’t you?” Aether’s thumb strokes along your cheek as he manipulates you, dragging you along his shaft slowly. His eyes never leave your lips, watching as his cock disappears into your mouth over and over. Finally he lets you up for air, sitting further back on the bed and patting his lap firmly. “I think you’ve deserved a bit of a reward, don’t you?”

“Only if daddy thinks I have,” you respond with ease, rising from your knees and settling on his lap to face away from him, just how he likes it.. He presses his palm to your stomach, tucking you against his chest as he raises your leg and plants it firmly on the bed beside you. You manage to keep it there as his hand trails along your body, rubbing your leg lovingly until he finally finds the wet patch at the apex of your thighs, dampened with your slick and no doubt evident to his searching fingers.

“Oh, my. What do we have here, princess? Are you all wound up just from servicing daddy?” You manage to nod and tuck your head against his shoulder, knowing exactly what he plans to do next— the sight of it always leaves you weak in the stomach and clenching for more. Sure enough, you can feel the grab of his claw as it snags in the nylon of your stocking, and the tugging only intensifies as he sheers through the fabric. Aether growls low in his throat when he feels your lack of panties, already moving his fist back towards his cock to direct it to your entrance. “Just couldn’t wait any more, could you?”

“Been thinking about this all day,” you sigh, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and closing your eyes as you lean against him. In no time, his cock has already found its way inside of you and he presses you down hard into his lap, grinding your ass against his hips as he seats himself to the hilt. “Fuck, that feels so nice, Aeth.” He nods and groans in agreement, kissing the side of your neck before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin there.

Both of you moan in tandem as he shifts his hips, rocking upward into you at the same moment that the pad of his index finger finds your clit. He manages to keep up a decent rhythm as he helps you bounce on his lap, his finger swiping across you in a beat that you can’t quite predict— it’s enough to set off sparks of electricity across your skin every time he does it, though. Soon enough his tail begins to creep along the edges of your vision, finally settling along your other leg to wrap around your calf. When you nod your consent he lifts your leg with it gently, holding it aloft as his cock spears you, his other hand working you along his lap in a fervor as he nears his own climax.

“Aeth- Aeth, I need- All I need is-”

“I know,” he finishes for you, sealing your lips in a heated kiss as his teeth instantly score along your lower lip. The small nip of pain is enough to send you rocketing over the edge of your climax and you cum hard, stars bursting across your vision. You hear him murmuring to you, his lips grazing across yours softly as he does so, but you don’t have time to catch the words that he’s saying as you cum again, this time prompted by his sudden and concentrated assault on your clit with two fingers.

By the time you come to your senses and return from your out of body experience he’s already finished inside of you, his cock still pulsing with the last vestiges of his own orgasm. In front of you on the stone floor is a small pool of the evidence of your arousal and you flush bright red— you knew that was his goal all along, when he lifted your leg and started concentrating on your clit. Aether works your body like a well tuned guitar and you’re more than happy to let him do it as often as he’d like.

“Mm,” he hums, nuzzling his nose into your hair briefly, tail lowering your leg. “I told you to come dressed for bed… What are you going to sleep in now?” You laugh, laying your head back onto his shoulder and pressing a fond kiss to his cheek underneath the mask.

“I figured we wouldn’t be sleeping at all.”

“I can certainly make that happen,” he assents after a short pause.

#lorraine writes #fics #ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa emeritus #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #era 4 ghouls #aether #ns/fw

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champion-prism · 4 years

Text

So Fine

Leon x F!Reader, Smut

Requested by anon: Hi! Could I request a childhood friends to lovers smut fic with Leon? Like Raihan, Leon, Sonia and Y/n were all rivals, and both raihan and y/n become the dragon type gym leaders, and the whole group parties together and drinks together, and it’s on one of those nights that Leon finally makes a move. (Female reader. Also I absolutely adore your fics They’re so well written💗 keep it up bb)

A/N: a’ight so the partying bit is nonexistent and the drinking is mentioned only bc I’ve never partied and I hope I never will. Drink responsibly y’all. Or don’t drink at all, that is also okay. Also, everyone is coherent and everything in the fic is consensual.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: There’s NSFW up ahead!

The Wild Area is quiet, almost eerie in the silence of the night, broken by the soft sounds of childrens’ voices.

You and Leon sit around Charizard’s lit tail, warming yourselves before you head into your camp to turn in for the night. Leon is talking about how he wants to head in the direction of the Dusty Bowl- if he can find it.

“Maybe I should try to get someplace that isn’t the Dusty Bowl,” he muses. “I’ll get lost and wind up there, instead.”

You laugh as you ask him what he wants to go to the Dusty Bowl for.

“I really want to catch a good Ground Type,” he explains. “Maybe a Tyranitar, or a Rhydon.”

Your eyes light up at the mention of a Tyranitar.

“Ooh, a Tyranitar?” you say. “Maybe we should go to the Dusty Bowl together, I’d love to look for a Tyranitar. One of the strongest dragon-types there is.”

Leon shakes his head at you.

“Always with the dragon-types,” he says. “I have nothing against them, but shouldn’t you not be limiting yourself to a certain type? I mean...you might get KO’D in Ballonlea and Circhester.”

You shake your head.

“I’m not going to have a full Dragon team yet,” you explain. “But eventually I’d like to phase over into one. I figured, if I can manage to get my hands on a Duraludon and a Charmander, that can take care of the Fairy and Ice weaknesses.”

Leon scoots slightly closer to you. When he smiles, you can see his light blue braces.

“When I’m Champion,” he tells you, “I’ll get you all the rare Pokemon you want.”

The rest of the night is spent teasing him lightly for his ambition, and Leon laughingly claiming you’ll be sorry for ever doubting him. He hesitates a bit when you both stand to go into your respective tents, and after a few seconds of bouncing on his heels, he moves forward, gives you a quick peck on the cheek, and practically runs into his tent. You giggle slightly as you call a good night to him.

He keeps his promise. When he becomes Champion, he proudly presents you with an egg- light orange in colour with red speckles. You thank him with a peck on the cheek and a giggle, and he throws his cap at you and runs away.

Somehow, that’s how it stays. You become busy. You know Raihan is training hard to beat Leon, and you’re training hard to perfect your dragon type team. You travel all over Galar. You crawl along in the bushes and wade into ponds and spend god knows how many days in Axew’s Eye, raiding Dynamax dens to find a Noivern or a Sliggoo. When you hear from Leon, you tell him how well your now-evolved Charizard is doing.

He travels abroad sometimes, brings you back exotic Dragon types. A Swablu from Hoenn, a Dratini from Kanto. He promises he’s going to get his hands on a Bagon someday, and you tell him not to go through too much trouble. He just gives you a peck on the cheek, tells you it’s no trouble, as long as it’s for you.

Chaste kisses on your cheek. One to say hello, one to say goodbye. A congratulatory kiss on the cheek when you become the Dragon type Gym Leader at sixteen (Raihan demands one, too- he gets a ghost kiss from Leon’s Dreepy). Leon’s cheeks don’t heat up when he does it, not anymore, nor is he flustered the way he was the first few times. You’re friends, affectionate friends who kiss each other on the cheek, glance at the other’s lips and look away, tuck loose strands of hair away from each other’s face, but keep yourself from playing with it.

You’re busy, you tell yourself. Much too busy to do anything than push away the schoolgirl crush you’ve always had on Leon, much too busy training and learning, much too busy to do anything but let the years pass, and here you are now, an adult, fully absorbed in the rhythm of daily life.

It’s one of your designated hangout nights. Leon’s in Hammerlocke to destroy Raihan in an exhibition match, and afterwards, you, Raihan, Sonia, and Leon head to one of the underground pubs, one of Raihan’s discoveries, and your personal favourite. Sonia is the most responsible, Raihan is the least- by the end of the night, she’s laughing at and guiding an obviously drunk Raihan into a taxi (non-Flying; can’t risk him puking down at people from the sky). You and Leon are moderate, lightly buzzed enough to feel good, not buzzed enough to be Raihan. You decide to just walk the empty streets, shoulders bumping into each others as you walk, the cold night air biting into your faces.

Leon walks closer to you as he wraps an arm around your waist, sliding underneath the hem of your short top. You shiver and move closer to him, putting your own arm around him. The side of your face bumps against his shoulder and you giggle, both of you talking and wandering around Hammerlocke until you eventually reach the hotel where Leon is staying, at which point he looks up at it, and glances at you.

“It’s pretty cold out here,” he whispers. “Maybe we should just hang out inside.”

He sways slightly, pressing his forehead against yours as his grip on your waist tightens. You nod your assent, and the two of you make your way up to his hotel room.

The atmosphere is different, here- Leon dims down all the lights before kicking his shoes off and collapsing on the bed, patting a spot beside him. You follow suit, resting against the headboard with your body angled towards Leon. His eyes rove up and down your form, coming up to meet your eyes and stare intently at you.

His eyes are lidded as he moves forward to give you a peck on the cheek. You giggle at him, and tip forward to return the favour, kissing the corner of his mouth. He says your name, close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.

He kisses your forehead, and he doesn’t pull away before pressing another kiss to your cheek, and all at once you’re aware of the heat between the two of you; you ignore it in favor of kissing his chin, and kissing his cheek again, and that’s fine, because friends can give each other kisses, right?

You’re just relaxed from the drinking and acting silly.

Leon leans forward and places a light kiss to your earlobe. His head dips as he kisses your neck, then pulls back to look at you.

He’s staring at your lips, eyes lidded- your heart pounds as his hand comes up to cup your cheek, and he angles your face towards his.

“Leon,” you breathe.

His lips are soft on yours, barely there as they brush past your lips. Your lips part ever so slightly as you lean towards him, and he kisses you- a soft, closed kiss where you move your lips gently against his.

There are warning bells going off in your head- Leon is your friend. Your childhood friend. This is one of those friendships that is supposed to last forever, and you really don’t want a patch of awkwardness between you because you ended up making out one night. Or...doing something else you might regret.

Your hands come up to rest against his chest as he deepens the kiss, and all the warning bells go off. Suddenly, you don’t know anything beyond how good it feels when he kisses you, hot and open mouthed and much more... desperate... than before. One of his hands is at your waist, pulling you closer as he adjusts himself so that he’s over you on the bed. His mouth leaves yours as he begins to kiss your jaw, tongue swiping against your jawline. His hand moves under your shirt, fingers pressing into your sides as he kisses your mouth, your jaw, your neck. You moan slightly when you feel his teeth nip at the sweet spot on your neck, and his mouth moves to explore lower, a kiss pressed into your cleavage as he moves down to the swell of your breasts, tugging your collar down to expose more skin.

“Leon,” you say, breathing heavily.

Your voice seems to snap him out of it. He jerks his head back to look at you, golden eyes wide and searching as they look into yours.

“I’m- I-” he starts, sitting up. He swallows, and takes a deep breath.

“Lee, I…” you sit up, too, reaching for his hands. “I don’t want for things to be awkward between us,” you say, ignoring every feral urge in you that tells you to pull him back over you and go wild.

“They won’t,” he says, breathing heavily as he stares at you, pupils dilated. “I like you,” he says, moving forward to bury his face in your neck.

“I’ve liked you for years, now,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss on your skin. “And we don’t...we won’t do anything you don’t want to. I just need you to know I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’m in- I...want you.”

You press yourself closer to him, hands coming to clutch at his biceps.

“I like you, too, Lee,” you admit, whining slightly as he nips at your neck at your confession. He’s kissing your neck again, and you moan when you feel his tongue on you as his hands slip under the hem of your top, pressing into your skin just below your breasts.

“Do you want to do this?” he asks between feverish kisses to your neck and shoulders.

“Ye-yes,” you manage, your head full of nothing but Leon right now- his scent, his warmth, the way his tongue feels on your skin, the way he’s leaving bites on your collarbone and neck, his hands pulling you closer- he presses into you so you lay back against the mattress, supporting himself with one arm as he tugs on your shirt with his other hand.

You pull your shirt off over your head, and watch as an almost feral expression takes over Leon’s face as he sees your clothed breasts. He’s on you in a second, one hand sliding underneath you to unhook your bra, the other tugging it off and throwing it to the side.

“Fuck- yes,” he gasps, kissing your bare breasts and nipping gently at one, making you whimper. It makes heat pool in your stomach when he swears- Leon almost never swears, and you like this new side to him you’re seeing.

“I’ve wanted to see you like this forever,” he admits, squeezing a breast with one hand before his tongue flicks over your nipple.

“You have no idea,” he sucks your nipple into his mouth, tongue swishing around before he pulls away, “how much I’ve thought about this,” he comes up to press a hard kiss against your mouth “how long I’ve wanted you for,” he presses his hips against yours, making you moan.

“Leon,” you moan out his name, bucking your hips against him, whining when he pulls back a bit and chuckles.

“You look cute,” he tells you, an almost innocent smile on his face. “All flushed and warm, so needy for your Champion.”

“Leon,” you gasp, hands tugging at his shirt, legs bending to wrap around his waist, trying to press into him.

“Lee, don’t tease,” you whine, and he obliges, pulling his shirt over to his head, exposing his bare chest and stomach.

He’s gorgeous.

You run your hands over his chest, making note of how he whines when your hands brush over his nipples. He presses his whole body against you, kissing your mouth, dipping his tongue in and moaning, clothed hips thrusting slightly against yours.

Your fingers hook into the waistband of his pants, tugging at them. He pulls back again, sitting on his calves as he tugs your pants off, tossing them away. You lie exposed in front of him in nothing but your dampening panties, and he gives you a smug look before kissing your stomach, going lower.

Your hands grip his hair as he begins to place butterfly kisses over your panties, teasingly biting the insides of your thighs from time to time. You plead with him for you don’t know what, an unbearable need for friction building in your intimates.

He darts his tongue out and begins to suck on your clothed clit, his face pressed between your legs. The wet spot on your panties grows, and you cry out for him as his thick fingers push your panties to a side and rub gently over your folds.

He pulls your panties off, eyes widening at the sight of your wet folds, swollen and puffy.

“Is this for me?” he asks, head tilted to a side as he looks up at you.

You whimper and nod, bucking your hips.

“Use your words, baby,” he says, nipping at your inner thigh.

“Leon- it’s for you. It’s all for you, I- ah!” you arch your back as he buries his whole face into your pussy, fingers rubbing at your clit as his tongue dips inside of you, moving around.

“Leon- oh, Lee,” you whisper, “I- ah- you feel so good-”

You can feel your high building, your intimates pulsing as he eats you out like a starved man. When he pulls away, you nearly cry, desperately begging him to let you cum.

Your arousal shines on his mouth as his tongue darts out to lick his lips, wiping off his mouth with his hand. He smiles at you, that sweet smile of his, crawling over you as he kisses your body, one hand pushing down his pants. You glance down between your bodies to see his cock, dark red at the tip and leaking precum as he strokes it gently.

“I’m gonna make you feel good,’ he says, moving up to kiss your lips. “I love you,” he mumbles against your mouth, pressing another open kiss on you, “so much.”

Your arms circle his neck as you pull him deeper into the kiss.

“I love you, too,” you pull away, looking into his warm golden eyes. He kisses you again, your legs wrapping around his waist. His cock brushes gently against your wet pussy, and you press your fingers into the muscle of Leon’s back as he continues to kiss you softly and slowly.

“You sure about this?” he asks, mouth against yours.

“Leon, please,” you say, your teeth lightly grazing his lip. “I need you.”

He presses his face against your shoulder as his cock pushes into your entrance, a strangled moan in your throat as you try to adjust to his size. He’s thick, and you mewl as he pushes in deeper, involuntarily clenching around him.

“Oh, fuck!” Leon gasps as you tighten around him, eyes wide and mouth gaping slightly.

He takes his time pushing himself inside you, both giving you time to adjust to him, and giving himself time to savour you, the way your warm insides clench around him, the way you throb with your arousal, how tight and wet and perfect you are, even better than you were in his fantasies. He pulls back a little and pushes in deeper, kissing you all over your face as he rocks slowly into you, pace quickening when your nails dig into his back.

“You’re- you’re so big, Lee,” you moan, heels pressing into his back. “I- oh- you feel so good.”

You hear him breathe a laugh, and he licks over some of the marks he left on your throat.

He begins to move faster inside you, wet smacking sounds getting louder as he begins to lose himself to the pleasure. You arch your back and squeeze your eyes shut, moaning a chant of his name as he hits that perfect spot inside of you, your head going blank save for the building pleasure.

His hand presses into your soft breast, and you drag your nails down his chest, making him cry out. You pinch and pull at his nipples, heat searing and your own pleasure spiking as his face contorts in bliss, groaning your name as you take his whole length.

“I’m gonna- hah- ah! I’m gonna make you cum, baby, I’m-” his thrusts speed up, a hand going down to rub at your clit.

You cry his name out louder as your high approaches, and he pounds into you, his gasps and moans mixing in with yours. He tells you you’re his, all his, that you belong to him, and you agree, throwing your head back as your pleasure peaks.

You scratch down his back as the tension snaps, your orgasm washing over you as you pulse around his cock, his name on your lips. He rides you through your orgasm, wide eyed at the sight of your flushed face and chest, how brazenly lustful you look as you cum around him, pussy clenching tight. He pumps into you, and with one rough thrust, he presses his cock deep inside you and moans as he goes over the edge, rocking his hips against yours as he cums, spilling his seed deep inside you with a broken cry of your name.

He almost collapses on you, face resting on your breast with his cock still twitching inside you as you both come down from your high. Leon’s breath fans over your heaving chest, and he slowly pushes himself up to pull out of you, keeping your legs apart to watch his cum drip out of your cunt. He almost wishes he could take a picture of you like this, looking so obscene, nipples perked and pussy leaking with his cum.

Your hands reach out to him as he gets off the bed, and he kisses you softly on the lips, telling you he’ll be right back to clean you up. He goes into the bathroom and emerges with a wet towel, cleaning you up as per his promise, tossing the towel away and snuggling into your naked body as you pepper soft kisses on each other, holding each other’s bare bodies tightly as sleep overtakes you.

#leon #leon pokemon #champion leon #leon x reader #pokemon leon x reader #champion leon x reader #dande #champion dande #dande x reader #pokemon swsh #pokemon imagines #pokemon fanfic #anipoke #anipoke dande

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corpseblouse · 3 years

Text

the nameless boy pt. 1

word count: 2.1k

warnings: corruption + slight yandere!shinsou + fingering + virgin!reader + innocent!reader + pet name kitten used + slight manipulation ? maybe ? + marking + possessiveness + slight jealousy + slight mention of stalking

includes: f!reader, hitoshi shinsou

a/n: hey!! i really hope you guys like this fic! i was literally blushing so hard when writing thisjsbddn, but i think i really really like it and it may be my best writing so far. anyway, i hope you enjoy!! and this is my first time writing a “dark” fic so please bare with me. i also forgot to mention that there will be a part two to this coming soon!

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hitoshi shinsou was not a name you were necessarily familiar with, of course you knew he was one of the former ua students who was gifted with an undeniably strong (and borderline criminal) quirk, but who didn’t know that? everyone knew what hitoshi shinsou was capable of, but no one really knew who hitoshi shinsou was.

no one knew that hitoshi shinsou had a growing urge to stroke your face while you slept. no one knew that hitoshi shinsou yearned for your attention when you directed it towards some other douche out in public.

just one look, one glance, one smile… that’s almost everything he wanted. he wanted your innocence, he wanted to taint you with his corruption, because maybe then, will that make him feel whole again.

shinsou often lied awake late at night, hand tightly wrapped around his cock, head thrown back, and imagination flowing.

he thought about you.

he thought about the soft skin of your thighs connecting with his, your cheeks flushing a bright red as he whispered the dirty thoughts he kept bottled up inside his mind. he thought about the way your hands would tremble, grabbing onto his upper arms and piercing his skin with your blunt nails.

and your cunt… oh how he thought about how warm and velvety your walls would be. how you would cling onto him like a vice as he slowly rolled his hips into yours.

shinsou was desperate to hear whines and whimpers come out of your mouth, and was especially desperate to hear his name come out of your mouth. he’d imagine how it would sound, so soft and sweet; something he’d want to hear at every hour of the day. he’d imagine the way your mewls would flow through his ears, it would definitely be an addicting sound to him.

but he knew how you really were, there was no chance that you would want or even should do things of that nature.

shinsou tried so hard to want to conserve your innocence, he tried so hard to push his dirty thoughts to the side. but there’s always that lewd image of you, on your back, staring up at him with tears welling up in your soft eyes.

the thought of it drives him crazy, feral almost. he knew he had to have you.

you, on the other hand, had different thoughts; you craved physical affection. you craved that one on one connection with a person of interest, the longing, the romance, the passion, you craved all of it. but, no boy was interested in you. you were the rut of the group, not having a flashy quirk made you sink into the shadows where no one saw you.

no one, except for hitoshi shinsou.

there were numerous occasions where you’ve caught him staring at you at random places. stores, cafes, bus stops, but it was something you had always brushed off as a coincidence. his lingering gaze was strong, piercing almost, it instantly made you cower away and want to hide yourself from everyone. he made you nervous.

you didn’t even know his name, but you wanted to.

you felt yourself growing needier and needier as his gaze grew stronger and stronger. this was the most male attention you’ve ever gotten, and even if it was from some random, nameless boy, you were still aching for him.

you would feel your thighs clench together at thoughts of him. thoughts of his hands running up and down your bare legs, dragging all the way up to your cunt, dripping with need.

you weren’t used to these thoughts, though. you weren’t used to the tantalizing thoughts that deeply corrupted your once innocent mind. but boy, were you obsessed with the feeling. you were craving something you didn’t even know you needed. you were craving the nameless boy’s touch, you were needy to release the ache in your core.

shinsou noticed the way you would act around him, biting the tip of your pen, crossing your legs unbearably tight when he came around, and he just couldn’t wait any longer. he needed you, you both almost needed each other.

that’s when he decided to ask you out, it was your first interaction with each other, and to call it awkward was a complete understatement.

you both were a total mess, stuttering over your words, hands twiddling together, shy smiles and touches directed towards each other. it was sickly cute.

you could tell how much he liked you from the get go, the way his eyes twinkled when he looked at you was a dead give away. it made your need for physical affection grow even stronger, unbearably stronger.

you both were absolutely inseparable.

hand holding, neck and cheek kissing, cuddling, dinner dates, movie dates, it was everything you could’ve dreamed of and more.

shinsou was beyond happy with this outcome, it was everything he wanted. his crave for your touch grew exponentially, he loved dancing his fingertips along the plush of your thigh, lightly squeezing and scratching his nails down your thighs to see a red trail left behind.

you were finally his, and he was finally going to taint you.

his insatiable desires seemed to grow as he lay on top of your bare body, still fully clothed. your thighs are clenched shut, eyes teary, and trembling hands clenched onto this biceps. it was just like how he imagined! he contently sighed, knowing that he’ll finally be able to feed into his needs.

“are you sure this is okay, kitten?” shinsou’s voice seemed to rumble out of his mouth, making you cower deeper into the bed.

you were absolutely terrified, with this being your first time getting touched you couldn’t help but overthink every possibility. you feel lightheaded as your thoughts seemed to swirl around you. although this was something you wanted, you couldn’t help the thoughts filling your head.

you felt like everything was moving too fast, just two months prior he was known as “the nameless boy” to you. he was nothing but a stranger whom you never came in contact with, a stranger whom you secretly admired, and a stranger who had a growing obsession with you.

but here you are, laid beneath him, bare and vulnerable.

your hands unknowingly travel up to your breasts, covering them with each of your hands, you feel shinsou’s gaze travel to your hands, “ah ah ah, don’t hide yourself from me, kitty.” he tuts, gently moving your hands away.

he kisses each of your fingers, starting with your thumb. you feel yourself visibly relaxing as his lips travel down your hand and arm. they’re soft and supple, they leave small sparks throughout your arm making your legs weak, causing them to slightly spread apart.

shinsou’s lips lead to your bare breasts, he kisses around your areola before catching one of your hardened buds into his mouth. the feeling is foreign, and not like something you’ve ever experienced before, which wasnt really much.

you whimper as you feel a sharp pain coming from your breast, you look down and see hard eyes already on you. shinsou let’s go of your aching bud with a pop, “keep your eyes on me.” he says, there’s something a little off about him… he’s not the soft shinsou you know. it’s like something washed over him and he became this ravenous man.

you slightly nod your head, fingers tightly gripping the bed sheets. “use your words.” he demands, grabbing onto your jaw and forcing your mouth open.

“yes, shinsou.” you whisper out, not trusting your own voice.

his eyes almost roll the the back of your head at the sound of you saying his name, it was like warm honey oozing out of your mouth. something he can easily become addicted to, something he’s already addicted to.

obviously satisfied with your answer, shinsou let’s go of your jaw and trails his hand down towards your thigh. your legs were still closed, but were relaxing under his warm touch. it seemed like all of your worries went away as he touched you, the sparks flowing through your body intensifying the longer his hands stayed on you, it was addicting. you felt like you were getting high from his touch, your eyes were glossing over, while your body felt like it was floating the more he kissed and teased you, you were on cloud nine.

he notices the way your eyes look dazed and glossed over as you look at him, he can’t help but grow hungry for more at how easily you fell victim to his touches. how easily you completely submitted to him, letting him do what he wants to you, letting him make you feel good.

he coaxes your legs open, bending them up so he can comfortably fit between them. his lips are back on you, trailing up to your neck where he can finally mark what's his. he nips and sucks at your smooth skin, relishing in the way your quiet moans and whines fill his ears. it makes him desperate to hear more, he becomes addicted to the sound.

as he’s leaving marks on your neck, his hands massage your inner thigh, getting closer and closer to your sopping cunt. your hips slightly buck up into his hands, desperately wanting more. he nips at your neck, silently telling you to stay still.

“please, i want more.” you beg, not being able to hold it in much longer.

“shh… i got you, baby.” he reassures, finally reaching your aching cunt. his fingers lightly tease your hardening clit, encircling the bud. you keen, already feeling shocks of pleasure flowing up your body. shinsou applies more pressure, effectively drawing out a moan from your pursed lips.

“there we go, don’t hide those sweet moans from me kitten.” he whispers, bringing his fingers down to your drooling hole, teasing the entrance. the tip of his finger slides in almost easily, but the rest of his finger is a bit of a stretch.

“holy shit, you’re fucking tight. have you not had anything inside of you?” he questioned in disbelief.

“n-no..” you said, hoping that wouldn’t turn him off.

shinsou softly growls, sliding his finger deeper into your heat. you moan at the slight stretch, hips slightly moving forward to meet with the palm of his hand. shinsou places a hand on your abdomen, effectively holding you down onto the plush bed.

shinsou feels almost light headed at how wet you are for him, your slick drips down his hand the more he flicks his wrist and curls his finger. he pays close attention to your body language, he notices the way your body jerks and your moans increase in volume as he curls his finger into a specific part on your spongy walls. he makes sure to abuse that spot, hitting it over and over again to ensure that your first orgasm was one that would never compare to others’.

his fingers pick up its pace, continuously hitting that spot that has your toes curling and head rolling back. his head is rested against your thigh, sucking and biting marks onto your flushed skin. marking you as his.

your hips stutter and your thighs threaten to close, shinsou leans his body upright, preparing for your incoming orgasm. your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel warmth rising up your legs. the pleasure becomes gratifying as you feel his pace become more brutal, he adds in another finger stretching you out further.

“ ‘gonna cum for me, kitty? ‘gonna cum real pretty for me?” shinsou coaxes, pistoning his fingers deeper than you thought possible.

“yes! yes! feels s’good, please i want more,” you whine out, noticing your vision slightly blur at the debauched sound of your cunt spilling with arousal around his thick digits.

it was indeed a lewd sight, you, spread open with your boyfriend’s head between your thighs driving his fingers into you, desperately trying to push you to that high. you never thought this would happen in a million years, you were always seen as the innocent girl that no one knew had a perverted side; but shinsou was the one to take that away from you. pure bliss overtakes your body, you cunt starts spasming around shinsou’s fingers, desperately trying to chase that high like a glutton.

“that’s it baby, cum for me. cum around my fingers like a good girl.” he coaxes, scissoring his fingers inside of you.

you let go, writhing and whimpering, desperately trying to hold onto something to ground you back from reality. your eyes are closed tightly, but you can still see the smirk etched on shinsou’s face. the smirk of a man who’s proud of his creation; a tainted little thing.

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joel-millerr · 3 years

Text

Facing The Past

Chapter Three of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.6K

Summary: You and Mando head to Nevarro for him to collect the bounty on your head, but of course things don’t go as planned...

Warnings: violence, a little bit of smut, ANGST (as per usual), let me know if there's anything I missed

A/N: (its also my first time writing any smut so hopefully it’s *okay*)

Nevarro is…gloomy—definitely not the type of planet you’d willingly visit. All you could see up until the horizon are plains of rock, cracks filled with lava, and steam emitting from the slits in the ground. Not even the sun shining down on you can improve the landscape. It’s muggy, and dark. In hindsight, it’s the perfect place for a bounty hunter base; the occupation compliments the wasteland that is this planet.

You don’t mean to be overly critical of bounty hunters, but they are to blame for imprisoning so many of your crew that your anger clouds any rational and unbiased opinion about this planet.

Mando lands the Crest just outside the walls of the city. The town itself looks terribly small, but doesn’t seem like a totalshithole. Other than Nevarro being the central location for the Bounty Hunters Guild, you don’t know much about the planet. Most of the spice running deals are made far away from here—for obvious reasons. Even you’re not reckless enough to step foot on a planet where most of the population wants to hunt you down for a price.

The last couple of days have been…awkward to say the least. Ever since your ‘incident’ on Sorgan, Mando’s barely said two words to you. Maybe he’s angry at you, maybe he’s scared of you—you can’t be sure, but he’s been distant. He no longer stands close to you, or engages in small conversation like he did back on Sorgan, and when he does, he doesn’t even look at you. His helmet stays peeled to whatever it is he was doing before you addressed him. It’s incredibly frustrating. You want to explain, you want to reassure that you would never think of doing that to him or the Child, but you yourself can’t even be sure of that. It feels completely out of your control, so how could you even attempt to reassure him that it couldn’t happen? You’re basically a simmering pot, and every day the water gets closer to the brim, and could bubble over at any minute.

And if you’re being honest, deep down you’re a little relieved that soon you’ll be in custody. You won’t be able to cause any more harm, even if some of them deserve it.

You’ve been living in the cockpit since you left Sorgan, spending most of your time sitting in the chair going over and analyzing every single moment from that night. There was obvious anger inside of you, and rightfully so considering that man had tried to kill you twice, but there was also a…voice. It was a whisper, like something deep in your subconscious, forcing you to do its bidding. It told you to make him suffer, to make him bleed, and the voice was happy to see the hunter in pain. Clouding every rational thought in your mind, it was like being trapped inside your own body. Screaming to break through, you were a helpless passenger watching your body commit this atrocity. You’ve never been malicious, you thought yourself a caring person. Someone who wouldn’t inflict harm just for the sake of revenge, but now you’re not sure who you are anymore.

Who are you? Are you a mechanic? Are you a spice smuggler? Are you a monster? There are voices at odds inside of you. They fight for dominance, they beg you to choose who you wish to be, and for the first time in forever, you’re scared of who you are becoming. You’re not who you thought you were, you’re not who Tye believed you to be, or who your parents raised you as. Are you this dangerous criminal that the fucking Republic paints you as?

“We’re here.” Mando’s baritone comes out strained. He lingers in the doorway of the cockpit for a few seconds then descends the ladder, not bothering to wait for you to catch up.

“Okay.” Your leg bounces off the floor, and you’re biting down on your lip so hard, you’ll probably leave a permanent mark. Eyes looking dead ahead, the Nevarro horizon looking back at you, you wonder if you’d still be in this situation if your parents were still alive. Would you have still rebelled and turned to a life of constant running? Would you have stayed on Tatooine, leaving no mark for the galaxy to remember you by? Would you still have met Mando somehow?

Using your heels to push you to your feet, you take one last look at the cockpit and then head down the ladder. The ramp is open, and you catch Mando waiting for you at the top of it. The Child rests in his arm, tiny hand latched onto his gloved index finger.

As you both descend down the ramp, there’s a man standing ahead of you, just in front of the archway entrance to the city. From the kept white beard that rests on his cheeks and chin, you assume he’s middle aged. There’s a black cloak wrapped around his body, fastened around his clavicle are two golden clasps attached to a chain which are only worn by magistrates. Mando has some powerful friends, you think to yourself.

“Ah, Mando!” The man exclaims gleefully, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Karga.” Mando acknowledges, his voice keeping low.

“How are you, my friend?”

“Alive.” There’s a hint of jest in Mando’s tone.

The man laughs loudly. “When did you become such a comedian?” A big hand clasps down on his beskar pauldron. The Child in Mando’s hand coos and catches Karga’s attention.

“And how are you, little one?” He reaches out to hold the green gremlin and the bounty hunter allows it, gently handing him over to Karga.

“Alright Mando,” The man begins to say, “Let’s get this over with.” He turns on his heel, the baby still in his arms and takes two steps before shouting over his shoulder, “The quarry can stay here. They’ll be here soon enough to collect the bounties.”

Mando doesn’t exactly look at you, but the helmet does tilt in your direction. He’s just a foot ahead of you and you swear you see his shoulders slouch for a second, like he’s having second thoughts. It’s dumb, you shouldn’t be thinking of something so foolish. He had a job to do, and now he’s done it. You’ll both go your separate ways and never see each other again. That’s how this is supposed to go. That’s how this was going to end ever since he captured you.

Two collectors stand nearby, waiting for Karga to give them the order. As he and Mando pass through the arches, the collectors make their way to you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, refusing to show any weakness or sadness and with as much gusto as you can muster, you call out “Well, it was nice knowing ya, Mando.”

How stupid of you to think you could possibly mean anything more to him than a fucking quarry. He never gave you any indication that he even liked you. He merely tolerated your presence because you were useful. It was nothing more than a transaction between you both, and you could kick yourself for even letting these thoughts roam free in your mind. Forget Mando, forget the kid, forget every fucking person in this world who’s hurt you or left you. When this first started, you wanted Mando to get his credits because you liked him, but now with the ice-hot anger brewing inside of you, you don’t care anymore.

The two collectors—Rodians you infer as they get closer to you, approach the Crest, one of them heading up the ramp into Mando’s ship to collect the quarries in carbonite, the other staying by your side, probably anticipating that you’ll try to make a break for it although realistically, there isn’t a single place you could run to. You would either have to run into the city and try to hide or run for the hills. Neither option sounds tempting enough, given the fact that Mando would be on your ass in seconds.

Three carbonite chambers float down the ship, and the collector gives the one by your side a nod of acknowledgement. Your eyebrows pull together as you examine the subtle exchange between both men. The stranger next to you binds your wrists and shoots you a smile that’s anything but kind. The corner of his lip curls into a sinister grin, one that shoots panic up and down your spine. In the corner of your eye, you make out the silhouette of nearby ship. Was that always there?

Wait, shouldn’t there be more than just two members securing the quarries? This doesn’t make any sense. Why aren’t there more people here? Why is no one else here?

“Let’s go,” One of them orders. The first one makes a beeline for the ship, leaving behind the quarries from the Crest. Why would Guild members leave behind quarries?

Something’s not right. Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline beginning to pump through your veins, and the urge to fight is starting to prick at every nerve ending in your body. These guys can’t Guild members. Somehow, they’ve fooled everyone.

They urge you forward to the ship in the distance and you plant your feet firmly into the ground. If they manage to get you on that ship, you’re done for. You need to struggle as much as you can and pray to the Maker that someone will realize this whole thing is a set up.

“Where are you taking me?” Trying to suppress the alarm in your voice, it comes out choked and feeble. A large hand grips your bicep and makes you whimper, their dexterous fingers digging into the thin material of your sleeve. You jerk back, trying to wriggle out of their hold, but it only causes them to tighten the grip around your bicep, pain now shooting up and down your arm.

“Fucking let me go!” You shout, hoping someone—Mando, will hear you, but no one can hear you.

“Oh, shut up!” The Rodian ahead of you shouts before swiftly turning on his heel and stalking towards you. His large fist winds up and slams into your stomach, knocking you completely off balance. If it wasn’t for the other one holding you upright, you would have fallen flat on your back. Nonetheless, you crouch over, wincing at the pain in your abdomen. The men laugh together ruefully, sheer enjoyment displayed on their faces.

“The boss is going to love playing with you,” One of them taunts, leaning down towards you and grabbing hold of your chin so that he can look you in the eyes.

“Fuck you,” You spit out through ragged breaths.

“Why, you little bitch.” A hand comes flying at your face and you brace yourself for the pain, sewing your eyes shut. His green backhand connects with the softness of your cheek with so much force that your head snaps to the side, following the movement of his hand. Your cheek throbs, ripples of pain so intense you feel tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

The wrath inside you is screaming and clawing at your insides. The whisper in your head commands you to cause them pain. It craves the cries of their sufferings, to see the life drain from their eyes. You’re trying to fight it; you don’t want to let that fucking voice win, but the searing agony from their blows feed the darkness that roars deep within you. You can feel your control slipping, fingers twitching against your will as your attackers try to haul you into their ship.

A beam of red light narrowly misses you, and one of your assailants drops to the floor with a loud thud. Your eyes bounce around you, trying to locate the source of the blast, when you catch the silhouette of shiny beskar running straight for you. There’s no hiding the joy and relief that is so evident on your face. He came back. Somehow, he came back for you.

You can feel the man still holding you start to panic. His body tenses, and he begins frantically pulling you into the ship, but now that you know you’re one-on-one, you waste no time fighting back. Gathering as much force as you can and flailing your bound arms around, his body turns towards you, and straightaway your leg lifts off the ground, slamming your knee right in his crotch. The man yelps in pain, hunching over involuntarily. You use this opportunity to connect your knee with his stomach with so much vigor, his body flies backwards, hitting the ground hard. As you lean over his body, he starts begging and pleading for his life.

“Please, please I was just doing it for the money!” He finally chokes out, his voice filled with pure terror as his hands come up in surrender. That evilness in your mind urges you to make his final moments hurt, to show no mercy for the man who would have certainly not shown you mercy. Shaking your head violently in an effort to cast out the mysterious voice, you wrench your eyes shut.

No.

You hear distance footsteps getting louder and louder, and then stop altogether. Tilting your head ever so slightly to the right, you can see his boots in the corner of your eye. Mando’s testing you. He wants to know if you’ll pull the same stunt you did back on Sorgan. As the man at your feet continues to plead for his life, the vulnerability and desperation in his voice pulls you out of whatever trance you were in.

This man is no different than you. He was given orders, and did what he thought was necessary in order to complete the contract. You can sympathize with that. There are so many things you’ve done in your time as a smuggler—things that have made you question your morals, and how far you’re willing to go to get the job done. Things you’re not proud of, things you now regret. At the end of the day, you’re both just pawns in a much bigger fight, and although you’ve both decided a path with little room for ethics, an unnecessarily harsh death is one you won’t inflict upon him.

You take a deep breath, inhaling in as much air in your lungs as possible, it almost burns them. Squaring your shoulders, you take a step back away from your assailant. That’s all the permission Mando needs, and his pistol comes up and sends a red beam of light right into the man’s chest, silencing him.

“We need to go. There will be more soon.” Mando warns, as he leans down and grabs the key from the dead man’s corpse to unbind your wrists. Your head bobs in acknowledgement, and then you’re both heading for the Crest. Karga’s waiting by the ramp of the ship, holding the Child in his arms. As soon as the little green baby spots you, he tries desperately to wiggle out of Karga’s grip, tiny arms reaching out for you. Mando takes the Child from his friend’s arms and gives him to you. Giant eyes peer up to look at you and the baby coos. Your lips curl up into a smile, taking two fingers to gently rub his ear.

“I had no idea the Empire was after her,” Karga says to Mando sincerely. The man’s gaze then turns to you. “I’m sorry. I should have known something was off about the deal.”

Shaking your head, you offer him a smile. “It’s fine.”

“You two should leave. It’s only a matter of time before someone else comes for them.” Them? Are they after the kid, too?

“Yes.” Mando answers matter-of-factly.

Karga nods, and a big hand comes out to shake Mando’s. “Safe travels, Mando.”

His gaze flicks towards you for a second and you offer him another smile and tip of the head before turning around and heading up the ramp to the Crest. You head straight for the cockpit, placing the child in the seat adjacent to yours and strapping him in. Mando comes in right after you, planting himself down in the pilot’s chair. The ships thrusters roar to life and you take off, the Nevarro landscape disappearing the higher your climb into the air.

Now that you actually have time to process what the fuck just happened; the reality of your situation hits you. It’s not the Republic that’s after you, it��s the Empire. The Empire you thought was defeated five years ago. The Empire that that killed thousands, if not millions of people.

Why? Why you? What could possibly be so special about you that the Empire has a fucking bounty on you? Wait, Karga had said ‘them’. Does that mean you and the Child? What could you and the Child possibly have in common that the Empire wants the two of you? Your mind recollects the moment you two shared on Sorgan—where he seemed to communicate something to you but that’s hardly enough of a connection, right? There’s just no way. You’re nothing but a petty smuggler. You haven’t lived a life worthy of being wanted by the fucking Empire. You had a normal childhood, and then went on to smuggling spice. That’s it. There’s literally nothing fucking exceptional about you.

Mando punches in some coordinates and activates the hyperdrive. The gentle hum of hyperspace fills the tension in the cockpit. Neither you nor Mando know what to say. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you start to question whether or not it’s a good idea that you’re even flying with them. If what Karga said is true, and the Empire is hunting you and the kid, surely having the two of you together is too risky. Realistically, you should split off. You should go your separate ways on whatever planet Mando’s set the coordinates for, in an effort to prolong the Imps’ search.

“Where are we going?” Your gentle voice cuts through the gentle purr of hyperspace.

“Tatooine. I have a friend there that owes me a favor.” His voice comes out slightly gruff through the modulator.

Your breath catches in your throat. You haven’t been back to Tatooine since your first smuggling run. After the job with Tye, you had made a decision to become a full-time runner, and vowed never come back to the shithole that was Tatooine, not while there was an infinite amount of galaxy out there that you hadn’t seen yet, leaving your old life and self to rot on that planet. There were too many hurtful memories, too much pain.

A small coo emits from the baby and you look over and see him slouching in his seat, big eyes blinking slowly. The poor thing must be exhausted. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you reach over and wrap him in your arms. He nestles in your lap, letting the sleepiness overcome his little body. At first you consider laying him in his pram and letting him sleep in there, but he’s already fast asleep in your arms before you can put him down, so you decide to let him rest where he is. The adrenaline and stress from the last couple of hours starts to take its toll on you. Exhaustion suddenly overwhelms you, the stiffness in your bones turns to fatigue, and you try to fight your eyelids from closing. You don’t want to fall asleep yet. You want to ask Mando why he came back for you, why he’s helping you, but your body succumbs to the exhaustion and you drift off to sleep, the last thing you hear is the stillness of hyperspace.

When you wake, the Child is no longer in your arms, and Mando isn’t in the pilot’s chair. Rising to your feet lazily, you drag them over to the control panel to check the status of your route, rubbing your eyes with your palm in order to steady your vision. You’ll be landing on Tatooine in less than an hour, which unfortunately only gives you a small finite amount of time to properly prepare yourself for the onslaught of memories that will smack you in the face once you land.

Maybe no one will remember you. Mos Eisley isn’t exactly the smallest city, meaning there’s chance that no one would even recognize you. All you need to do is avoid the cantinas and merchants you used to frequent back when you lived there and maybe, just maybe you could remain unseen.

Suddenly getting the feeling that someone’s watching you, you strain your neck while turning your head as much as it can, seeing the faintest hint of chrome in the corner of your eye. Turning your body towards the door, the sight of Mando takes you by surprise, and you can’t help but get startled by his sudden presence. You almost forgot how intimidating he actually looks. Even as he stands there doing nothing, there’s a certain level stoicism and command in the way he carries himself, the same way a man who’s a captain of a battalion would carry himself—robust, and proud, however also reserved. There’s no way to gauge what he’s thinking unless he deliberately tells you, and Mando doesn’t like to talk very much. It forces you to anticipate what he would think or how he would feel in every situation you’re both put in, wracking your brain and making it damn near impossible to keep up with him.

The shades of pale blue mixed with white reflect off his beskar armour. His visor is pointed at you, although you can’t be sure if he’s actually looking at you or through you. His stance is stiff which isn’t unusual but there’s a gentleness that radiates off of him. Your throat goes dry, and you’re sure you’re breaking skin from how hard you’re biting your lip. You haven’t had a proper moment alone together since that night on Sorgan, and neither of you spoke about what happened. There’s a lot of unanswered questions you need to discuss, but the thickness of the air around you is becoming overwhelming. You don’t say anything, and stay firmly planted where you stand. The Mandalorian mimics you, refusing to take a step forward. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage, heat coiling in your stomach and making it harder to ignore the wetness beginning to form in your panties. Refusing to show submission, your eyes stayed locked to the ‘T’ of his visor. His hands twitch at his sides, but shows no other kind of movement. He’s still as a fucking tree and somehow that only turns you on even more. He has to be feeling the same way you are right now. It can’t just be you this time.

Mando finally takes one step forward and your breathing hitches. Stars, if he comes any closer, you’re going to explode. You’ve never experienced this kind of tension before. Your body’s never felt so on fire and he hasn’t even touched you, but you desperately want him to. So you mimic his movements and take a step forward, testing him. It’s barely noticeable but somehow his back stiffens even more, chest pushing out faintly. The blood in your ears is deafening, your heart slamming so hard against your chest you feel like passing out.

“What are you doing?” The baritone pulling rough and breathy. Okay, so this is affecting him just as much as it is for you.

Your tongue glides against your bottom lip before biting down on it, hard. Curious to see how far you can push this, you don’t answer him and instead take another small step forward. By now you’re only a couple feet away from each other and the air of the cockpit is disgustingly thick with a need to fuck each other senseless right here and now. His hands ball up into fists and that lets you to know he’s fighting his primal desires. You think you hear short, distorted breaths emit from the helmet, but you’re too far away to be certain. Your panties are fucking soaked, your slick almost dripping down your thighs. It’s been too long since you’ve been fucked, and you need it, need Mando to bend you over the control panel and pound into you like a fucking animal.

It’s like he’s reading your mind, because he closes the gap between you two in a flash. He’s hovering over you, and despite the cool amour he wears, you can feel the heat radiating off him. Your nostrils fill with the smell of gunpowder, and his musk and it takes all your energy not to fucking whimper. Only Mando can get you this worked up when nothing’s even happened yet.

One of his brown leather-gloved hands comes up to touch your arm. If you thought your breathing was irregular before, well now you’re basically suffocating as his hand hovers your arm and you want to scream at him to touch you—beg him to do what you can’t bring yourself to do. Please, Mando.

Right as you feel a glove graze your arm, the ship jumps out of hyperspace, and in an instant your moment is over. His hand drops back to his side and you let out a deep breath of disappointment. Your shoulders slump, and your head drops, staring at the floor. Instinctively, you slither out of his way so he can slip into the pilot’s chair.

The radio comes to life, static filling the cockpit before a female voice emanates from the speaker. “Razor Crest, this is Mos Eisley Tower. We’ve picked up your signal. Head for bay three-five, over.”

“This is Razor Crest, locked in for three-five.” Mando answers coolly, as if two minutes ago there wasn’t an unbelievable amount of sexual tension between you two. You try to hide your annoyance at the fact that he can snap in and out of a moment so quickly. He’s seemed to have forgotten all about it unlike you who can’t seem to snap out of it. You reluctantly sit in your seat, shifting uncomfortably due to the stickiness of your underwear.

As you descend into Tatooine airspace, your nerves begin spiraling. Both your legs bounce off the ground, and your hands twiddle in your lap. If there’s one thing you fucking hate, it’s sand. Maker, you hate how the sand feels against your shoes, never giving you enough solid ground to walk properly. Constantly twisting your ankles because the sand concaved in certain areas. How it always fucking found its way into your shoes, your clothes, your hair. You could take four sonic showers and still feel fucking sand in places it should never be in. Then there was the absolutely incomprehensible fact that water was scarce here. A bare necessity for everyone to survive had to be farmed like vegetation. Curse the Maker for this planet. You’re not sure what planet you hated more, Kijimi or Tatooine.

Mando lands the Crest in the hangar the operator told him to, and your brows furrow looking at your surroundings. This hangar looks familiar. It’s not the one your parents owned, but you definitely recognize the random discarded parts scattered throughout the area. You hope you’re wrong, that Mando didn’t land in the only hangar that you’d know.

The Mandalorian rises from his seat and begins to make his way to the ladder. “Let’s go.” He calls out before climbing down the rungs. For a moment, you consider asking if you could stay in the ship the whole time you’re docked here, but it would be a ridiculous thing to ask. You’re an adult, and you have to confront your past, no matter how ugly it is. Reluctantly, you slide out of your seat and climb down the steps. The cubbyhole where Mando’s cot is located is shut, and you assume the Child was sleeping in there. He presses a button on his vambrace and the door slides open, the kid sits patiently at the door. Mando scoops up the Child, a tiny green hand immediately clutches onto one of Mando’s gloved fingers. The ramp opens slowly, and even from far away you instantly recognize the woman standing at the bottom of the ramp.

“Mando!” Peli exclaims, throwing her arms in the air and then resting them on her hips.

Peli fucking Motto. You’ve known her since you were a child. She was a difficult woman, to say the least. Not the most generous person—she only ever did someone a favor if there was something in it for her. You never personally worked for her, and there was a reason she only ever had droids as her workers. She was the type of woman who barked orders at everyone in her employment. What Peli lacked in size, she made up for in attitude.

Mando descends the ramp before you, your legs refusing to move. As soon as Peli catches sight of the baby, the tough exterior you’ve only ever seen disappears into a gentle, kinder demeanor. Mando hands her the baby and she wraps her arms around him, her hand gently caressing the little hairs on the Child’s head. The baby squeals in excitement. Her gaze leaves the baby to face Mando only for a moment, before locking her eyes with yours.

“Who’s your friend?” She asks him. Your face is covered by the shadows of the Crest, disguising your features. Holding your head up high and pushing your shoulders back, you walk down the ramp. Her face turns from curiosity to anger, fast. Eyebrows scrunching up and lips forming a tight line, she scoffs. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Hi, Peli.” Your voice dripping in sarcasm.

“What the hell are you doing back here?”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I had the choice.”

Peli eyes stay locked on yours. You know that saying, ‘if looks could kill’? You’re pretty sure you’d be dead right now if that were true.

“It’s a bad idea to get involved with this one, Mando.” She turns to look at the visor. “She’s always been trouble.”

This time you let out a laugh, hand coming to sit on your hip. “That’s such bullshit, Peli and you know it,” Using your free hand to point a finger at her, punching out your next jab at her. “You’re the difficult one.”

“That’s rich coming from the spice smuggler.” Her last words dripping like venom.

You bite down hard on your jaw, wanting to argue, but in this very rare case, she’s actually right. It’s just one of the many truths you’ll have to face being back here.

“Anyway,” She says before turning away from you to face the Mandalorian to her right. “What can I help you with, Mando?”

“The hyperdrive needs to be fixed, and I need to refuel.”

“I’m surprised this one hasn’t offered her services.” Peli shoots you a glare.

“I did fix it but—” You begin to say but Mando cuts you off before you can finish.

“We were stranded, and it was only partially fixed. If I’m to make it to the next destination, I need to be at above 70%.”

“Sure thing, boss. We can get that fixed.” She shifts her weight to walk away from you both, but before she can call her droids, you call out to her. “There’s a problem.”

She turns her torso just enough to look in your direction, “With you? Why am I not surprised?” Rolling her eyes, she continues to stare you down.

“Look Peli, if you have something to say,” You taunt, taking a step towards her. “Then say it.”

Challenging you, she steps towards you as well. The Child in her arm fusses worriedly, and you almost back down from the confrontation when you realize this might be scaring the little guy. “Oh, I got a lot to say, kid.”

“That’s enough.” Mando orders. As reason comes back to you and somewhat clears your mind, it’s probably not a good idea to start a fight with the only person that can fix his ship and potentially get you off this planet, so you back off and step back.

“The Empire is after her,” Mando starts to explain. Peli shoots you another stare and rolls her eyes again. “We fought them off on Nevarro, but we don’t know how much time we’ll have until they come back.”

Despite her very obvious resentment towards you, she nods and forces a smile—not very comforting, but it’s enough to put you both at ease. “Don’t worry, Mando. I’ll have her ready as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.”

You continue to stare at Peli with daggers in your eyes. There’s a lot of undealt with animosity between you both, but you’re not sure you’ll have time to settle it. “We’re gonna go try and find a lead. Maybe someone here will know why she’s wanted. Can you watch the Child in the meantime?” He asks.

“Can I? Mando, this little guy is the only reason I let you in my hangar. This little womp rat has found a way into ol’ Peli’s heart.” She says affectionately, looking down at the baby and blabbing some nonsense. The kid responds by giggling and using his little arms to reach out and touch the finger that wiggles in front of him.

“Didn’t know you had a heart,” You whisper under your breath. Peli doesn’t seem to hear you, but Mando does because you hear a sigh comes from the vocoder. “That’s enough.” He orders, just loud enough for you to hear him.

Even though it’s been five, almost six years since you’ve been here, everything still looks the same. The whole city is devoid of color, just various shades of beige and whites as far as the eye could see. Every single home and every cantina stand like monuments made of fucking sand, showing no detail or artistry in their structure. It’s like every piece of culture from around the galaxy comes to Mos Eisley and dies, leaving only taupe boringness behind. It’s possible you’re being too harsh on the city, but you were born here so you have the right to be a bitch about it.

You never thought you’d be back here, breathing in the fucking dry, gritty filled air you grew up breathing in. It’s as stuffy and suffocating as you remember it, maybe even worse than you remember it. As the sun blazes down on you and Mando, you can admit there is one thing you actually do like about Tatooine. The sun was always out, always scorching hot and always beaming down on your skin, leaving a beautiful golden tint to your complexion. You could stay out all day and never develop a burn; your body was so used to the heat. Now, you wonder if that’s changed. Rolling up the sleeves of your tunic up to your elbow, the sun instantly pricks at your skin. The heat feels like a giant hug, caressing your untouched skin. Okay, maybe there was one thing you missed about Tatooine.

You both walk cautiously around the city looking for a cantina in the hopes of finding someone who might know what Empire wanted from you, but also keeping an eye out for possible threats. He treads a couple feet ahead of you, but you don’t mind. So far, you haven’t really recognized anyone, and no one’s seemed to recognize you. Just a couple more days and you can put this all behind you. There are plenty of vendors out, selling everything from fabric for clothing to food from other planets, to parts for ships. People from various walks of life mingle throughout the city. A few vendors away, you see a couple of Jawas trying to bargain for some old, outdated ship parts. The Jawas were always on the hunt for miscellaneous scrap metal parts, as well as other junk. To each their own, you guess. You’ve had a couple dealings with Jawas. They were sneaky, and smart despite their appearance. You had always tried to avoid making transactions with them if at all possible.

On your right, you see an older gentleman selling some garments, and the realization pops into your head that you do need new clothes. Since you weren’t planning on all of this happening, the only clothes you have are the ones on your back, and the ones you accidentally left behind on Sorgan. You’re in desperate need for new clothes.

“I’ll be right back,” You tell Mando before making a beeline for the old man’s stand. You don’t wait for Mando to acknowledge you.

“Hi there, traveler.” The man greets, using a cane to rise to his feet from the stool he was sitting on beforehand.

You offer him the same genuine smile he shows to you before letting your hands touch and feel the various assortment of garments placed before you on the table. “These are beautiful.” You remark.

“Thank you. My wife’s the one who sews them. She does all the work. I just sell them afterwards,” He humbly admits. Your eyes stay peeled to the numerous amount of attires on display in front of you, but still keeping that smile on your face. “Oh, hi sir. Can I interest you in anything?” He says, a mix of shock and kindness in his tone. You look up and notice Mando by your side.

“Nothing for me, thank you.” He says politely.

You decide on some charcoal-colored trousers that has some pockets sewn in on each side of the thighs, along with a white short-sleeved tunic. The merchant also sells backpacks, so you also buy one of those to store your new clothes in until you can get back to the Crest. It’s only once you start digging in your pockets that you’re embarrassingly aware that you have no credits on you. Mando picks up on the sudden realization and pulls out credits of his own and hands them over to the old man.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back,” You try to reassure him.

“It’s fine,” Mando replies.

The man bows and thanks you both for your business, and you nod in return before continuing your walk through the city.

After a few more minutes of walking, Mando spots a cantina just a couple buildings away and of course it’s the onecantina you hoped not to visit. It’s the one place you and Tye would frequent when you both lived here, and the owner of the establishment knew you both by name. The both of you had visited that cantina on pretty much a daily basis, playing sabacc with other locals, and getting way too drunk.

As you get closer to the door of the cantina, you stop in your tracks, your feet becoming cement blocks. It doesn’t take Mando long to notice that you’re no longer walking behind him, so when he does, he turns his body to see where you are and heads for you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Isn’t there another cantina we can check out?”

A sigh exists the helmet and big gloved hands come to rest on his hips. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like maybe there’s another cantina we can visit.”

“Why would we do that when there’s one right here?” His tone becomes faintly more irritated, probably because you’re wasting valuable time trying to run away from your past.

Your mouth opens to justify your apprehension, but there isn’t a single justifiable reason not to head into the cantina. Mouth forming a thin line, you shrug and start for the tavern.

The cantina is loud, all kinds of walks of life are gathered inside mingling. You stop just at the top of the stairs and begin scanning the area, looking for a quiet table you both can sit at. Mando clearly has other ideas because he doesn’t even bother to look around before heading straight for the bar. “Mando—” You call out, but he’s too far ahead to hear you, and the noise from the patrons inside drowns out your voice. The noise that escapes your lips is definitely full of annoyance, but there’s no telling Mando what to do. You follow suit, and stand a couple feet away from him, your back turned to his as you continue to look out for anyone you might know.

You can’t hear the exchange between the bartender and Mando, but by his posture, you guess he doesn’t receive any good news. Form what you can make out through the noise of the cantina, the droid behind the bar informs Mando that no one from the Empire has stepped foot in Mos Eisley in weeks, so the likelihood of anyone knowing anything is slim to none.

“Let’s go. There’s nothing here.” Mando’s voice cuts through the vocoder. You nod and head for the exit. One cantina down, only…too many more left.

Once back in the heat, you both continue to make your way through the city, taking random turns down streets less populated than the main path. You’re still being cautious over being seen by either someone from your past or someone looking to collect your bounty, but you’re much more relaxed now. Being back gives you a sense of familiarity and there’s a slight twinge of nostalgia that reminds you of your childhood. Every street you pass, every building you take notice of—it’s all things you’ve seen before. You can remember running down this exact street with Tye due to a game of tag. A couple streets away there was a food stand that sold the most amazing magenta colored fruit you had ever tasted in your life. It was a rare treat that only came in once every season, but it was so worth it. The fruit was sweet, and so full of juices that whenever you ate it, its nectars would trinkle down your chin and onto your tunic. Your mother always scolded you for eating without being careful, but it never stopped you from dirtying your shirt anyways. As you pass by where the stand used to be, all you see is an abandoned kiosk. Of course, it’s no longer there.

The sun’s beginning to set now, turning the sky into mixture of pastel pinks, blues, and purples that swirl around like an abstract painting. The streets are also starting to become less crowded; vendors are starting to pack up their stands for the day, and most of the locals are gathering in the cantinas for a night of gambling and drinking. You’re not sure when you began trailing behind Mando, but you follow him as he makes his way through the roads. Your arms are crossed against your body, the mental exhaustion of the day is starting to take its toll on your body.

He spots another cantina on the way back to the ship. There’s an unspoken conversation that occurs between you both. He tilts the helmet in the direction of the cantina, and your your shoulder lifts in the air in response. He walks in first then waits for you. When you’ve caught up to him, out of habit you take in your surroundings and take a scan of the room.

He crouches down and whispers in your ear. “Find us a booth. I’ll be there shortly.” The baritone of his voice cutting right through you and hitting a part of you inside that hasn’t been touched in ages. You can’t control the way your body reacts when he’s that close to you—the hairs on your arms standing up, the small shudder that went traveled from your spine down to between your thighs. You’re instantly reminded of the moment you two shared back in the cockpit of the Crest. You’re not sure if you’ll ever get to have another moment like that again, but you’ll live in that moment for as long as you possibly can if that’s all you’ll ever have.

There’s an empty booth at the back of the cantina so naturally that’s the booth you break for. Once you’re seated, you catch Mando talking to the droid behind the bar. A lot of the patrons inside are eyeing the Mandalorian, and you’d be lying if there wasn’t a dash of pride that hits you. Seeing a Mandalorian is rare enough as it is, so seeing a Mandalorian enter a cantina with someone else who’s not Mandalorian? You’re sure this is the first time anyone in here has seen either.

It’s hard not to stare at him. You have no idea what he looks like underneath that helmet, and there’s not even a part of you that cares. It’s all in his body language. You thought of him as a heartless hunter, a man made of beskar—inside and out, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He has the kid and cares deeply for him. Mando portrays himself as a warrior, a strong, stoic man who abides by rules and discipline, but he went back for the Child. He came back for you. It’s true, he doesn’t talk much, doesn’t divulge in talking about his past or about his Creed, but there’s a softness to him, a gentleness that you know not many people have seen, and somehow you’ve been lucky enough to see it.

“Care for some company, baby?”

Your gaze shifts from Mando to the foul man standing to your right. His breath reeks of alcohol, and he can barely keep himself upright without swaying in every direction. He’s holding two empty glasses in one hand and a bottle of liquid in the other.

Your eyebrows pull together, and you can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the smell of him. “No, thanks.” You reply politely. However, there is a stern tone to your voice.

“Oh, come on,” The man stumbles even though he hasn’t even moved. He loses balance and falls into the booth, now just a couple feet away from where you’re sitting. “What’s a gal like you sitting all by yourself on a fine night like tonight, hmmm?”

His hand reaches out to touch your hand, but your reflexes are much faster than his. You grab onto his wrist before it can get too close to you, and you apply pressure on the grip. His face scrunches up, and you know he’s feeling the firmness of your control. “I said no. Now, back off.”

Your hold slacks and you let go, pushing his arm and hearing it land on the table. Sliding out of the booth, you head straight for Mando who’s still standing at the bar. Before you can call out for him, you feel a large hand come down on your bicep and whip you around.

“We just want to show you a good time, bitch.” Another man bellows. You figure he’s with the creep that’s still sitting in your booth. Your body reacts before your mind can process what’s happening. Your hand balls into a fist, reaching far back to gain as much momentum as possible, then comes slamming into the man’s nose. Bone cracks and you can’t believe you just broke that fucker’s nose. He wails in pain, his hands flying to cover his face. Blood is pooling down his hands and onto the floor. Stars, you didn’t know you could hit that hard.

“I’ll kill you, you fucking bitch!” Someone else shouts and they’re running for you, pushing down others in their path. You prepare to fight but a gloved hand grabs your wrist before you can do any more damage. Mando blocks your entire body with his, and the attacker running stops dead in his tracks, almost tripping on his own feet with pure terror in his eyes. Mando doesn’t even have to do anything before all three men are apologizing profusely and retreating as fast as they came down on you. Everyone knows it’s a fool’s errand to pick a fight with a Mandalorian. They’re not called the greatest warriors in the galaxy for no reason.

“We should head back to the ship before we cause any more trouble,” Your voice is lighthearted, but Mando doesn’t respond. Taking his silence as a ‘yes’, you turn on your heel and make your way out of the cantina and onto the street. Walking out of there and feeling the warm breeze against your hot skin feels amazing. The adrenaline is still pumping through your veins and all the tiredness from your body is momentarily wiped away.

Mando finally appears behind you, and you take the lead on the way back to the ship while he continues to stroll behind you. Nightfall had arrived on Mos Eisley, and the only light that’s given are the dimly lit lanterns posted every few metres along the streets. Unless you’re a frequent visitor or a local, one could easily get lost at night. You on the other hand could make your way through the city with your eyes closed.

You don’t have time to process it, but you’re being pulled into an alley. Mando’s grip on your arm is firm, but he makes sure not to hurt you. There’s only one lantern in the backstreet, and you can barely see anything in front of you. He continues to pull you further and further into the alley until you’re sure no one would see either of you even if you were just three feet in front of you.

When he finally lets go of your arm, he’s standing in front of you at arm’s length. You can make out his silhouette only because the moon’s glow reflects off the beskar he’s wearing. Your eyes flicker up and down his body, trying to gauge why he’s doing this, but he gives you absolutely no indication.

“Uh, what are we doing here, Mando?”

“Take the bag off,” He orders, his voice scratching at a dangerously low register. Sliding your arms out of the straps, the bag drops to the floor.

You’re not scared of him, you know he wouldn’t hurt you, but you’re definitely cautious, and you can’t help the fight or flight instinct that’s overcoming you. Ever so slowly, he stalks towards you. Out of impulse, you take a step back and another and another and another until your back hits the wall behind you. Heart thumping in your chest, and your mouth drier than the fucking Tatooine sand dunes, desire pooling in your stomach. His broad chest encircles you. The cuirass grazes against your chest and you can feel the cool beskar against your burning skin. You want to reach out and touch him, but you don’t know where so instead you keep your hands by your thighs, your pussy throbbing so much it hurts. You don’t know what the fuck is happening, but you want more. You need more. The moment in the cockpit doesn’t hold a candle to this. This is something else—needy, desperate.

Mando’s breathing is uneven, that’s about the only thing you can make out. The vocoder distorts his breaths, making them scratchy and rough. Your chest is heaving with how unsteady your own breathing is. You’ve never been this turned on by someone who hasn’t even touched you.

“Fuck,” Mando murmurs, the baritone of his voice dangerously low. Both arms come up and he rests his palms on the wall behind you, fully boxing you in. Your throat is so dry, it feels like its suffocating you. Quick, shaky breaths escape your lips, and Mando is so fucking close to you, you can see the condensation emerging on his helmet from your pants.

“Tell me stop,” He’s basically growing now, the heat between you two becoming too much. It’s desperate, like he’s unable to control himself so he’s asking you to. It might be nightfall, but you’re still out in public, and despite the fact that you both could be caught any second now, it somehow spurs you both on. The thrill and risk of being this intimate frightens and fucking excites you.

Maker, you want it. You’ve wanted him since the moment you laid eyes on him back on Kijimi. Ever since then you’ve been fighting your attraction to him. Mando didn’t seem like the type to fuck quarries then turn them in, so you had made the conclusion that nothing could ever happen between you two. That quickly changed when you were alone in the cockpit. You had felt the shift in your relationship. No longer were you the only one struggling to bottle up the sexual tension that clearly presented itself whenever you were together. He was just as needy as you were.

“I—” You try to speak, but with the blood pounding in your ears, your mind is going blank. You can’t even force a coherent sentence, the heat is so fucking intense, you’re drowning in it.

A leather glove brushes the loose strands of hair out of your face and tucks them behind your ear. You lean into the touch, closing your eyes and letting a moan escape your lips. It’s such a simple gesture, but because Mando—a man who can kill with his bare hands is the one doing it, makes it so comforting.

Since words aren’t coming to your mind, you resort to using your body to communicate. Your hands are still trembling at your sides but you muster as much strength as you can and grab Mando’s hips, pulling them towards you until his body clashes with yours. His cock is rock hard in his pants, and instinctively, you spread your legs so he can slide one of his own between yours, moaning gently at the feeling of his bulge against your pussy.

“Stars…” He mutters, one arm still planted next to your head and the other coming down to your hip and digging his glove into the material of your pants. The helmet comes right up to your ear now, “Do you want me to fuck you in this alley?” It’s dirty, his voice hitting that sweet spot inside of you that nearly has you combusting on the spot. “Someone might see us.” He’s fucking taunting you and whether or not he actually does want you to push him away, there’s a mutual understanding that that won’t be happening.

The corners of your lips curl into a sly smile. You’re not scared to make a scene, to give some passerby a filthy show. Your next words come out slow, savoring every single moment you can right now. “Then let’s give them a good show.”

The noise that comes through the helmet is animalistic, somewhere between a mewl and a fucking growl. Grabbing both your hips, he flips you around so you’re facing the wall, you palms come flying up to stop yourself from smacking face first into it. With one hand still on your hip, he uses his other hand to hold your stomach and pull you closer to him, your back arching and bending over slightly, his cock lining up perfectly along your backside. A moan slips from your lips and that just spurs him off. The hand on your stomach trails down, cupping your sex over your pants. Maker, you can feel your slick dripping down your thigh from how much this is turning you on. Distant voices pass you by, but you don’t care. Nothing else matters right now, not when Mando is holding you like this, touching you the way you thought was only possible in your daydreams.

The grip on your hip slackens, lifting your tunic just enough to expose soft skin underneath then wrapping his arm around your torso to keep you glued to him. A thumb plays with the waistband of your pants, a delicious taunt that only makes you whine with anticipation.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Mando snarls in your ear. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, the metal digging into your neck and cheek. It’s a little uncomfortable but you’re too entranced to care about anything else other than him touching you wherever he wants. You moan helplessly against him but his hand doesn’t move, just continues to graze the exposed skin near your waistband. He’s relentless, continuing his slow assault, waiting for you to find the words to speak.

“Please…” You choke out.

“Please, what?” He sneers gingerly. “You need to use your words.”

It comes as a shock just how submissive you are. You’ve always considered yourself a dominant when it came to others, but somehow Mando’s completely flipped the script on you. You aren’t in control, you can barely throw two words together without needing to catch your breath, but you’d be lying if this wasn’t the most turned on you’ve ever been in your life.

“Yes…please touch me,” You cry out, shifting your hips so you can feel his cock against your behind.

“Good girl,” He praises before dipping his hand down inside your trousers and cupping your sex. He gathers your slick around his gloved fingers and begins rubbing circles over your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” Letting out a satisfied moan, the baritone of his voice pierces through you, your pussy gushing at the sound. You moan so loudly you’re positive anyone nearby could hear you.

“Shhh,” Mando whispers into your ear as the pressure on your clit become more intense. Your body is on fire, the heat in your belly driving you to climax as his fingers continue their assault on your pussy.

There’s a faint sound of static, but you try to push it out of your memory. You don’t want him to stop, not when you’re on the verge of orgasm.

“…Mando? Mando, are you there?” A female voice pokes through the commlink on Mando’s vambrace. His movements still and an irritated sigh scratches through his helmet before he pulls his hand from your trousers, then taking a couple steps back so you can turn around to face him, leaning back into the wall awkwardly. Lifting an arm to the helmet, he presses one of the buttons on his forearm.

“Yes, Peli?” His voice is surprisingly steady, considering two seconds ago he was fucking your pussy with his hand.

“Uh… The kid is having some kind of breakdown,” The radio causes her voice to come out rough, and you can hear a little bit of a disturbance in the background. “I think he misses you and his way of telling me that to tear my hangar apart!”

“We’re on our way,” He says into his wrist, not bothering to wait for her response and heading back for the main road.

You continue to lean against the wall for a couple of seconds, trying to process how this all happened so quickly. One minute you were walking back to the Crest with Mando, then he was pulling you into an alley for what you thought was going to be the best sex of your life, and now he’s already heading back to the ship like nothing even happened.

When Mando looks over his shoulder and realizes you’re not walking behind him, he stops and waits for you. “Are you coming?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“I wish,” You mumble to yourself before kicking off the wall behind you to stand up straight. Bending over to grab the straps of your bag and throwing it over your shoulders, your feet drag as you walk, letting disappointment engulf you. This was not how you wanted the night to end.

And the walk back is…a little awkward. Neither of you speak, but you continue to walk side by side. Your arms are crossed against your chest, and you keep your eyes peeled to the ground. Every now and then, you peak upwards to get a glimpse of Mando who’s walking on your left, but his visor stays glued to what’s in front of him—his head never once turning to look down at you. It’s infuriating, really. You’re sulking, maybe even acting a little childish, but it had been weeks since you’ve been touched by another person and the one night Mando finally decides to make a move, you get rudely interrupted. Not to mention your panties are fucking soaked and the walk back is only making you more uncomfortable. Your eyes shift to Mando’s right hand and a shrewd smile smears onto your face. Your slick is on Mando gloves. That realization is enough to turn you on. Hopefully whatever the kid is up to won’t take too much time to sort out, and then maybe you two can finish your little encounter in the alley.

When you reach the hangar, you don’t see anything out of place. To be fair, Peli’s hangar is always a mess so to you, it all seems normal. Peli stands at the foot of the ramp, looking a little rougher than usual. There are specks of grease on her skin, and her curly hair sticks out in all kinds of directions.

“What the hell have you been feeding this kid since the last time I saw you?” She challenges, storming towards you both.

“I don’t…” Mando begins to say, but Peli interrupts, a hand shooting up before he can finish his sentence. “The kid was full of energy, and I mean full. He messed with my droids, did this weird little hand thing and my bolts started floating in the air!” Her arms waving around as she tells the story. “Floating! Did you know he could do that?”

Mando shifts his weight to one leg, both his hands resting on his utility belt. “Yes.”

Peli scoffs. “Well, a heads up would have been nice.”

“Where is he now?” Your tone comes out more aggressive than you intended, but given the circumstances of your relationship, you don’t believe niceties are essential.

Peli scowls at you, before turning her attention to Mando and answering the question. “I was somehow able to put him to bed while we waited for you. He’s in the ship.” Her hand coming up to point behind her towards the hull of the Crest. Mando places a hand on her shoulder—not the same one he used on you thank the maker, and thanks her sincerely. He explains to her that you were both unable to find any leads but will try again tomorrow.

He climbs the ramp to check on the kid, and you follow suit, but not before shooting giving Peli one last look, your eyes piercing into hers with invisible vibroblades. She returns the favor and turns on her heel, heading to her office.

Once inside the ship, your eyes feel unbearably heavy and the fatigue hits you all at once. In the last few days, you’ve probably only gotten eight hours of sleep—more like a series of power naps that could be considered eight hours when you bundle them all up, and now your bones ache, craving the sweet release that is rest—but first? You need a shower. To clean off all the dirt from the sand that’s passed through the air and onto your skin, and to clean up the mess that’s between your thighs.

Mando checks on the kid who is right where Peli said he was—in the cubbyhole they both sleep in. “Hey kid,” he says softly while lightly caressing the hammock he threw together for the kid to sleep in.

“I’m gonna freshen up,” You announce as you head for the fresher. Mando only tilts in your direction and tips the helmet down, giving you only the slightest indication that he understood you.

It’s a bit of a struggle to get undressed in the fresher. The space is just so kriffing small, it’s a wonder how Mando is able to do it. When all your clothes are off, you toss them behind you and angle your body underneath the hose. Cool water hits your tired skin and you recoil from the sudden freezing temperature. After a few seconds though, the water warms up into a delightfully warm hug, and your tense shoulders finally relax. The water pressure is a little harsher than what you’ve gotten used to, but it feels nice on your back. It feels like a massage, pushing down on your muscles, releasing the tautness that had built up throughout the day. Looking down at the drain, you notice a red hue to the water, and your brows pull together tightly, eyes scanning your body to see where the blood could be coming from. As you begin to inspect your hands, you notice three small gashes on your left hand where your knuckles are. Your memory flashes back to the cantina where you struck that man square in the nose. A chuckle echoes in the walls of the fresher as you remember the fear smeared on his face right before you connected your fist with his nose.

Water continues to cascade on your sun-kissed skin as you grab the bar of soap resting on the ledge and begin to scrub every inch of Mos Eisley grime off your frame. Naturally, your mind wanders—as one’s mind usually does while taking a shower. Closing your eyes, you imagine the fingers tracing your skin are big, leather gloved hands instead. Dancing across your chest, goosebumps forming under your skin as the touch shifts down between your breasts, to your stomach and rests in the middle of your thighs.

You shouldn’t—you really shouldn’t do this. Not when Mando is right outside the fresher, not when he would definitelyhear you if you got yourself to come, but then again maybe you should let him hear you. The image of him hearing you moan as you bring yourself to orgasm in his fresher, his ship is enough of an incentive for you to bring your hand up to your pussy and slowly dragging your fingers between your wet folds. It doesn’t take long before your fucking soaking, slick mixed with water. Fighting the whimpers that are caught in your throat, you bite down on your bottom lip, and lean against the metal wall to steady yourself as you fuck yourself to orgasm.

Even as the sound of water masks some of obscene noises you’re making, if Mando’s still somewhere nearby, he’ll hear you. Two fingers rub against your swollen clit, and you convince yourself they’re fingers covered in brown leather. The heat in your stomach coils, your orgasm bubbling to the surface. It feels so fucking wrong and it feels so fucking right. Thank the Maker for the wall keeping you upright because your knees are quaking, the flashes of pure ecstasy making it damn near impossible to keep yourself from crying out. You’re seeing stars, the sensation starting to become too intense, you’re on the verge of coming, speeding up your rhythm so you can finally feel its sweet release. Your orgasm rips through you, white-hot pleasure punches the moan lodged in your throat, unable to catch it in time before it echoes through the walls of the fresher. There’s no way he didn’t hear that, but you really don’t give a shit.

Your hand drops to your side as your body rides out the aftershocks of your orgasm, chest heaving and knees buckling. The steam from the water mixed with your labored breathing post-orgasm makes it way too difficult to breathe. You feel like you’re suffocating, and now that you’re fully relaxed, the exhaustion really taking its toll on you.

Grabbing the new garments you bought from one of the kind gentleman, you slip them on and push the button to open the fresher door. The cool air from the Crest is a breath of fresh air, and you let as much air fill your lungs as humanly possible, taking notice that the ship is dimly lit. You don’t immediately see any sign of Mando, so you poke your head to left, wondering if he might be with the Child. The entrance is shut, and assume that means he’s gone to sleep. You take to the ladder, and use whatever strength you have left—and it’s not much, to climb the rungs to the cockpit. Sleeping in the chair isn’t the most comfortable for your neck or back or any part of your body for that matter, but it’s the only place you think to sleep in, therefore until Mando tells you otherwise, you’ll continue to sleep in this kriffing chair.

It’s when you reach the top of the ladder that you notice the tip of chrome poking through the headrest of the pilot’s chair.

Mando.

Keeping your movements as quietly as you can in the off chance he’s sleeping, you manage to slither in your seat and really try to get comfortable, but it’s truly impossible to do that so you give up quickly and lean a little in the chair, your butt touching the edge of the seat, and your back at an angle. It’s probably worse for your back to be in this position but you refuse to sit up straight in the seat, you definitely won’t be able to sleep that way. Your arms stretch across your chest and let out a deep breath through your lips before closing your eyes.

“By the way,” A deep, rough voice cuts through the silence in the cockpit. Your eyes shoot open and your breath catches in your throat, hanging onto every word Mando says. “The fresher isn’t soundproof.”

Your body sinks back into the chair, cheeks burning hot with equal parts embarrassment and satisfaction. There’s no point in trying to come up with a witty response, because you shamelessly wanted him to hear you. Shutting your eyes again, it’s damn near impossible to hide the devilish grin that’s smeared all over your smug face.

@1800-fight-me @tillytheslytherin @ayamenimthiriel 💛💛💛💛

#the Mandalorian #Din Djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #Din Djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #angst #tw: violence #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #slow burn #we are one when together #fics

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mythiica · 4 years

Text

Reader x Mammon {Obey Me!} - To Indulge a Demon

Title: To Indulge a Demon Fandom: Obey Me! Character: Mammon Genre: kinky kink Kinks: breeding kink, master, dirty talk, hard sex, fingering, marking, internal cumshot, mild possessiveness, etc Warnings: hah , many ^ Intended Gender Audience: Female Audience Word Count: 1352 words POV: second person Other comments: dont mind me writing fanservice for myself; this is a breeding season x butler event crossover (?)

Mammon grinds against your leg in desperation, hoping that you’ll respond to his yelps and whines by praising him. You smile at the sorry state he’s in: his butler uniform is stretched at the chest from having pulled it down over his broad shoulders (to expose his nipples), his face has flushed a lovely shade of cherry red, his tousled hair sticks up in different directions, and the most delicious part of it all is his throbbing cock fighting hard against his tight pants. You want nothing more than to touch Mammon, but he does so much better when he’s been denied pleasure first.

“Master!”

You shift and pay him no attention, but Mammon huffs in the cutest way and sets his hands on your lap. The charm from his necklace clinks and draws your attention to the hickeys hidden underneath.

“Master... fine I’ll say it- I’m hard... so hard it hurts.”

You know this - it’s quite obvious from his still growing bulge and the pained expression he wears. Mammon slips his hand down his chest and lifts his shirt, exposing the bite marks you left on him earlier. “I want more-“

Mammon is greedy, not only for money, but attention and pleasure. You learned to edge him by gifting him a little bit at a time. Although the markings are a few hours old, your saliva still shines in the dim light.

“Master... are you wet?”

You’d lost yourself in thought and didn’t notice mammon looming over you. His voice is heavy with desperation, so you yank him forward by his makeshift collar and drag your tongue over his lips.

“You’ve been such a good boy, Mammon, you’re so cute too!”

You didn’t think he could blush more, but Mammon tries to look away for a moment before you catch his chin with two fingers. “What reward would you like?”

He doesn’t dare hesitate: “Ride my cock–”

Your fingernails press against his skin. “Ride your cock....?”

“Master-“ he corrects himself.

This makes you smile. “Alright, Mammon, I’ll indulge you.” Before you can stand up, he’s got you pressed against his chest and is pulling you to the bed. Mammon’s lips trail down your neck and back up the other side. Saliva drops from his tongue, but you return every hot, open mouthed kiss with the same fierceness.

Truth be told, he had made you wet, and you want to fuck him just as badly as his instincts demand.

His uniform lands somewhere on the ground, you have little patience for more foreplay now, and you trace over the bruises left on his chest. The crescent moons of plum are so beautiful and, after tucking your hair back, you lean down and kiss each on slowly.

Mammon releases a low moan and works at his trousers to kick them off before he rips off your dress. Sitting up, Mammon takes a handful of your thigh and wraps his other arm around you. He returns the favor by circling his tongue around your pert bud, coaxing it to harden.

Mammon can barely contain his excitement. He bounces energetically and humps you, barely able to concentrate on one thing at a time. When Mammon gets carried away and bites sharply on your nipple, you cry out and pull his hair back.

“Owww! I’m sorry Master.. you just taste so good. I’ll be more careful.”

“Thank you, Mammon~”

He beams at the praise and returns to suckling on your mounds. There is no limit to his dedication, and Mammon dips his fingers between your legs, only stopping when he’s found your clit. The gloves never made it to the pile of clothing, and you squirm at the sensation of his warm fingers rubbing against you (save for the one covered digit that annoys you).

As he dips his middle and ring finger into you, wetness coats his fingers and the smell of sex seems to set him off, sending Mammon into a frenzy. He holds you down firmly and presses his cock against you until it fits inside. The breeding season comes with an increase of hormones, and seemingly a larger endowment as well. Mammon stretches your walls more than usual, and he immediately begins thrusting upwards with incredible strength, giving you little time to adjust.

You have no choice but to bounce on him and lock your arms around his neck to hold on – nothing you say would draw his attention away from the need to fuck you senseless. “Mammon, baby, you feel amazing- your big cock is fucking me so well!” Compliments about size and performance always urge him more, and he’s (of course) greedy for more.

“I know- I know- and you’re so soft.. you smell so good... fuuck-“ Mammon tips his head back and smiles devilishly, canines glinting before he buries his face against your neck. He’s surely left a hickey there, and you should punish him for it, but you have little energy to do so. After the initial sting of pain, Mammon rolls his tongue over the skin to soothe it. “Master, you’re mine now, see?”

The maroon has already set in and you beam at Mammon. “Yes, I’m yours…”

Every thrust sends you closer and closer to an orgasm. You know that Mammon will power through it and keep fucking you until his energy is gone (which, in your experience, takes a while). He whines against your skin – a wordless way to ask to hear your voice.

“M-Mammon! I’m going to cum at this rate!”

“Do it~” he coaxes, leaning back and taking your hands in his. The stitching of his left glove has split from flexing his muscles, so you slow down and roll your hips to take it off. With the edge of the glove between your teeth, you pull it back and let it drop onto the bed sheets.

Mammon nearly drools at the sight and runs his hand through his hair seductively. When he goes to kiss you, you press your palm flat against his pec and hold him there.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes!”

“More than Goldie?”

There is no hesitation in his voice. “Yes.”

“Show me, Mammon,” you beg, “show me how much you love me…”

The demon does not need to be told twice and he flips you before you can yelp in surprise. His hips pin you down to the mattress, and Mammon revels in fucking you until your eyes roll back with pleasure. Every moan that falls from your lips is a delicious reward that only makes him twitch more against your tightening walls.

You lose track of time, but Mammon maintains his stamina and shows no mercy with his animalistic thrusts. The knot in your abdomen suddenly explodes, and you arch your back with a loud cry of his name. Too weak to claw at his shoulder blades, you cup his face gently and ask Mammon for kisses.

He continues to thrust into you as you ride out the powerful orgasm. You can only hear the string of profanities coming from his mouth and the I love you’s peppered throughout. Finally, Mammon tenses, signalling his incoming climax.

With the little energy left, you lift yourself and grind against his body, fingertips gripping tightly to his biceps. Mammon throws his head back to release a groan before filling your cunt with his release. He lingers there for a moment before nestling against the crook of your neck. White pools at your inner thighs, you can feel it wetting your skin before Mammon pulls back. Shifting around, he holds your legs open and laps at your folds, kissing and teething every so often as he enjoys you.

Your clit is numb, but you still feel his wide tongue against you and shiver at it.

Mammon whispers, “You’re beautiful,” against your thigh before climbing over you and wrapping you in blankets. You free your arms from the cocoon and pull him against your chest.

“You did so good, Mammon!”

“Thank you, Master.”

He’s wearing that smirk again to remind you that there are many more rounds to come–

#obey me #obey me mammon #shall we date #obey me x reader #mammon x reader

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shellbilee · 4 years

Note

How about something with "you have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?" With Henry

Here you go nonnie! Thanks for the request, I loved writing this (though I’m sorry for the delay!). Hope it’s everything you were imagining! Also, I know I said headcanon buttttt it’s kind of turned into a headcanon/drabble/small fic. Oh well!

WARNING: Smut!

You’re finishing the last of your weighted squats, balancing the barbell on your shoulders and looking back at your reflection in the mirror when you see Henry staring at you through the mirror.

“Excuse me Mr Cavill” you say as you re-rack the weight and turn to face your devastatingly handsome hunk of a boyfriend, “Do you mind?”.

Henry chuckles and shakes his head, grinning at you as he sits on the weight bench resting between his reps. “No, not really. Just looking” he says seemingly innocently, even though you both know exactly what he was looking at.

“Oh yeah?” you ask, challenging him, “See something you like then?” you question as you bend over to pick up your water bottle, “Something caught your attention?”. Henry grins again - the devilishly cheeky, utterly handsome smile that forever makes you swoon inside, shifting on the weight bench and looking up at you as you lean against the weight rack.

“Yes actually. But you see, this thing has caught my attention for months. Five to be exact” Henry explains demurely, wiggling his eyebrows as he looks at you, “And I just can’t seem to stop myself from staring, especially when it’s bending up and down in front of me like that” he adds, gesturing to you with a nod.

You chuckle and shake your head, unable to help yourself from rolling your eyes playfully at him. He was talking about his favourite part of you, the asset that he made no secret about loving so much. He was talking about your ass.

Henry Cavill was, without question, an ass man. It was a fact you’d discovered on your third date with him, when you’d found yourself straddling him on his lounge room couch, the two of you making out like teenagers. His hands had slid slowly down your back until they’d found your ass, his huge hands grasping your cheeks and squeezing them firmly as you’d ground your hips into his.

This was only further confirmed for you when you’d started having sex, quickly realising that Henry’s favourite position was having you bent over in front of him, your top half flat against the bed with your ass raised in the air. As you’d progressively gotten more comfortable in the bedroom together, you’d come to find that Henry was also a big fan of dirty talk during sex, his deep, velvety voice always commenting on how perfect your ass looked bouncing back against him.

As your relationship grew it became evidently clear to you that Henry loved your ass, always putting his hands on it whenever he got the chance and forever telling you just how round and perfect he thought it was. He was constantly giving you little smacks and squeezes when you walked by, not to mention spanks whenever you had sex.

You didn’t mind, in fact, you loved it, loved the way your utterly gorgeous, devastatingly sexy boyfriend was so open and physical with his affections of you. He always looked at you with an expression that you could never completely read - like a combination of lust, awe and pure, utter adoration. He made you feel like a goddess, sexy and confident, powerful and alluring. It was one of things that you loved most about him, his uncanny ability to make you feel strong, safe and loved with just one look.

You grin stupidly at Henry and turn back to finish your last set of squats, stepping forward to balance the weight back on your shoulders and bending down into a squat. You see Henry’s eyes travel immediately back to your ass and you can’t help but giggle, wiggling your hips for emphasis and watching his jaw tense in response.

You know instantly that he’s thinking about you naked and bent over in front of him, his eyes practically undressing you as he stares. You know that your clothing probably isn’t helping the matter either, dressed only in a tight black sports bra that holds you with just the right amount of cleavage and a small pair of light blue booty shorts.

“Would you like me to put more clothes on seeing as I’m very obviously distracting you from your workout?” you ask when you’ve finished your last rep, re-racking the weight and turning back to face Henry. Henry laughs out loud, a deep throaty sound that echoes throughout the empty gym, “Love, if I ever tell you to put more clothes on, it’s safe to assume that I’m sick or dying”.

You giggle and shake your head at his response, picking up your gym towel and wiping the sweat from your forehead. Henry flashes you a cheeky grin as he picks up two enormous dumbbells, lifting them over his head into a military press and looking over at himself in the mirror. This time it’s your turn to stare at him, your muscles inadvertently clenching at the sight of his enormous chest muscles moving like boulders beneath his grey tee shirt, his biceps bulging and straining the material of his shirt. Almost instantly you find yourself thinking about him naked and pressed up against you, fighting the urge to swoon out loud as the idea of his thick muscles wrapped around your body and his hips rolling against yours floats into your head.

You swallow thickly and suck in a silent breath, feeling your heart rate instantly increase. All of a sudden you feel yourself growing hot - and you know it’s not from your workout.

“Now who’s the distracted one?” Henry quips mischievously as he puts down the huge weights, wiping his brow with his towel and looking over at you with a raised eyebrow. Your cheeks flush and you can tell that Henry knows exactly what’s just gone through your mind.

You shrug innocently, playing dumb. “I have no idea what you’re talking about babe” you say as you turn back to face the mirror, “I was just looking at your lifting form”. Henry chuckles, shaking his head, seeing right through your fake excuse.

You move on to your next exercise, the two of you working out in the weights area together, each trading flirty and cheeky winks as you go on with your exercises. You look back at Henry through the mirror and bite your bottom lip seductively, knowing just how much it drives Henry crazy whenever you did it. Henry in return runs his fingers through his thick curls, messing it up in the way that he knows you absolutely love.

Pretty soon it turns into a game, the two of you trying your absolute best to tease the other relentlessly. Henry grins and flexes his enormous muscles in the mirror, the sight making your knees weak and threatening to melt you into a puddle on the floor. You on the other hand do your best to show Henry all of your best angles of his favourite part of you, bending down and wiggling your hips temptingly every time you see him looking at you.

Eventually you come to the end of your workout, your muscles clenching in a way that you know has nothing to do with the workout you’d just done. You can feel how aroused you are, wanting nothing more than to turn around and jump on top of Henry, strip him of his clothes and ride him right there and then on the weight bench.

You’re quite certain that his thoughts mirror your own as you look over at him, unable to ignore the dark, hooded look in his eyes that he only ever got when he wanted you. Badly. In an instant you know that he wants you, just as much as you want him.

Deciding to push things one step further and see just how far you can take him, you bend over and fold your body in half, leaving your ass high in the air as you touch the floor and stretch out your hamstrings. You know that at this angle, in your tight blue shorts, your ass would look irresistible to Henry, and one quick peak back at him through your legs only confirms your thoughts. You know instantly from the look on his face that you’re playing with fire, knowing that as soon as you get out of the gym and back to the hotel room Henry will bend you over whatever surface he reaches first.

You wiggle your hips ever so slightly and bend further into the stretch, unable to help the smile that tugs at your lips when you see Henry reach down to readjust himself in his shorts. Your heart flutters triumphantly and you feel your deep muscles clench once again, the anticipation of knowing that you’re going to really get it when you get back to the room suddenly making your head spin.

You let out a breath and straighten up from your stretch, picking up your towel and water bottle and turning back to face Henry. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are dark and you know that if the gym were empty and you were at home, he’d be taking you right there on the gym floor and slamming his hips into you so hard that the sound would echo off the walls. You smile sweetly and open your mouth to speak, pausing momentarily as you watch him bicep curl a ridiculously large dumbbell. Oh God those muscles.

You clear your throat. “I’m finished so I’m going to head back to the room” you say gently, biting your lip when he lets out a groan of effort for his last rep, “So I’ll meet you back up there?”. Henry drops the dumbbell with a thud, looking up to meet your eye without saying anything. He doesn’t have to - you know instantly what he’s thinking, your pulse immediately racing at his expression. God you want him badly, you want his skin against yours, his hands on you, his lips on every inch of you

You grin and bend down to kiss him, lingering for a moment longer than necessary and tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth. You don’t even look down at him when you pull away, turning without a word and heading back up to the hotel room.

You feel like a naughty school girl as you ride the elevator up to the 31st floor, your stomach feeling giddy though you know it’s got nothing to do with the elevator. You’re all tensed muscles and thick, wet arousal, anticipation, excitement and burning desire bubbling in your veins.

You know Henry won’t be far behind you - he wouldn’t be able to last long in the gym in the state you left him in, and for a moment you toy with the idea of waiting naked on the bed for him. The thought is quickly replaced by the idea of the shower, and before you can think too much of it you’re stripping your clothes and leaving them in a trail to the bathroom.

You switch on the water and wait a moment for it to heat, stepping into the warmth and exhaling loudly as it hits your skin and soothes your aching muscles. You feel yourself tremble with anticipation knowing that Henry will be through the door any minute now, your heart racing in your chest as you tip your head back and let the water soak through your hair.

Exactly two minutes and forty-eight seconds later you hear the hotel room door click closed, and a moment later you hear the bathroom door opening. There’s a shuffling sound and you know without turning around that Henry’s stripping down, your muscles clenching deliciously when you hear the shower door open. You feel his presence behind you without actually feeling him on you, every single fibre in your body suddenly standing to attention as a grin grows involuntarily on your face.

“Do you have any idea” Henry says slowly, his voice deep, velvety and almost threatening as it echoes around the shower, “of the effect you have on me?”. His words send an immediate shiver down your spine and you feel your knees tremble beneath you, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest.

You only shake your head, feeling your grin grow even wider. “Sort of” you say slowly as you step backwards under the water so that you feel it run down your back, “But I do think that I’d be able to get a better idea of that effect if I could feel it”. With that you step backwards again and this time feel Henry behind you, his arousal thick and hard and more than evident as you feel it pressed up against your ass.

He lets out a groan and you can’t help but bite your lip at the sound, the muscles deep in your belly contracting when he reaches out to grip your hips. “Oh sweetheart” Henry groans, his hips rocking ever so slightly against yours so that you can feel him sliding between your soapy cheeks, “This fucking gorgeous ass of yours”.

After a moment he releases one of your hips and you tip your head back against his shoulder, a breathy moan escaping your throat when you feel his fingers travel to your front and slip into your velvet folds. “Oh love” Henry breathes in your ear as his fingers play with your slippery flesh, “You’re so wet for me already darling. All ready for me to just fuck you right here”. He says it like it’s a delicious threat, your mind suddenly lost between craving the delicious fullness of him inside you and a timid kind of nervousness that you’d never felt with Henry before.

You moan loudly, melting back into him as you feel his fingers stretch and tease your syrupy folds. Oh God Henry. “I’ve been ready for you to fuck me since the gym baby” you admit in a breathless voice, your hands reaching back and knotting in his hair to hold yourself.

You feel Henry’s mouth against your neck, his grin against your skin at your words, your knees trembling when you feel him push fingers inside you and hear him groan at your tightness. The delicious feeling of you stretching around him is gone as quick as it came and you let out a moan of protest, tightening your fingers in his hair in response.

You hear Henry chuckle in your ear and all of a sudden you feel his hands on your waist again, tugging and pulling your hips back towards him. You’ve no choice but to release his hair and just manage to catch yourself with your hands on the wall in front of you, your body now bent over with hips pressed back against Henry’s.

“You look so beautiful like this love” Henry groans, running his fingers down your spine, over your ass and down to your folds, “All bent over and waiting for me”. You flex your fingers against the tiled wall as the water cascades down your back, Henry’s touch on your most intimate spot making your head spin.

You’re about to open your mouth to tell him to stop teasing you, your voice suddenly catching when you feel him lining himself up with your entrance. His hand finds your hip again and you can feel just the tip of him pushing inside you, his grip on both of your hips suddenly tightening. Your muscles clench and your fingers flex against the tiled wall, the breath leaving your throat as you prepare your self for what’s about to happen. You’ve been wanting this since the moment you watched him in the gym earlier, your desire for your devastatingly sexy boyfriend bubbling up and threatening to burst inside you.

Henry chuckles and you know he’s thinking the same thing as you are, his voice suddenly deep, threatening and like velvet in your ears as it echoes around the shower. “Hold on love, this is going to be fast”.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #Henry Cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill fan #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill edit #henry cavill request #henry cavill headcanon #henry cavill drabble

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angst-king · 3 years

Text

Seeing red pt 1

(TW mention of sexual exploitation/abuse, ablism, physical and verbal abuse, transphobia, homophobia, emotional abuse, & attempted suicide)

(i will also be using she/her pronouns on Kiri for the first chapter and half of the second chapter) “That was fun, damn you were so good for me tonight kitten.” A soft out of breath voice calls out, the girl quickly grabs her things, slipping her clothes back on and she's almost out the door before the girl on the bed adds. “Hey, money’s on the dresser, take what you want kitten, you did so well~” Her voice purs, taking the money she hurried out the door, and soon out of the apartment complex. Walking the cold dark streets in the chilly night, the girl grabs her phone and calls someone. “H-hello?” Her voice was soft and shaky “hey there Ijima, did you have to ‘go out’ again?” “m-mhm, I d-don’t wanna go home Ashido.” “I know you don’t, just come on over, I’ll get you some clothes okay.” “O-okay, s-see you in a bit Ashi” “See ya Kiri” The two hung up and her steps quickened into a run.

She was so glad the ashido house had always welcomed her, whether it was after school, or late into the night to the ass crack of dawn. Her quiet feet brought her to a familiar street and soon to the house she could finally rest at. She was tired, barely holding herself up shaky legs that were weak from her previous activities. Knocking on the door, she could barely hold herself up, the door had opened just in time. A girl with pink hair and black roots opened the door, she was dressed in her pajamas with a slight look of sleep on her face clouding those bright yellow eyes. “Th-thanks Ashido” She says, hurrying into the house, stumbling. The girl catches her waking up more. “God Kirishima be careful, I’ve got ya, let's get you showered and into some better clothes. Ashido says softly to Kirishima who tries to balance herself but still needs assistance.

“I’ve got ya, now come on, you need a bath hun.” Ashido closes the front door, and leads Kirishima up the stairs and into a bathroom, giving the girl privacy. Ashido found some comfortable clothes for Kirishima.

Kirishima wasn’t in there long seeing as she could hardly stand up straight it was quick but good enough to get the smell of sex, and stickiness of shared bodily fluids. Her hair loosely tied up as she comes out in a towel, Mina hands her the clothes. Kirishima heads back into the bathroom and changes. Coming out once more, she’s shaking but clothed and dry, Mina hated to see her friend so hurt. There was a dull look in those ruby eyes, her lips small and barely able to hold the weight of a smile during a time like this. She was tired, sore, and worst of all, she was numb. She sunk to her knees on the floor in the pink haired girl’s bedroom. She began to shake harder, holding onto herself, fingers tightly gripping her slim biceps. Face towards the floor, only light snivels and whimpers could be heard from the ravenette.

Coming over to comfort the girl, Ashido knelt down and gently pulled her into her loving frame. Flinching, it only took a second before a choked sob erupted and the young Kirishima started to cry. Her body going slack in her friend’s hold as tears rained down from her eyes dampening the shoulder she cried on. All the other could do was rub her back and hold her close and offer advice. There were moments upon moments of quiet sobbing before her words came out in a stammer.

“A-Ashido, I-I wanna die, please.” Her voice pleaded, shaking her head the pink haired teen tried to persuade her. “No Kiri, i’m sorry I can’t let you do that-” “pl-please, just give me a bottle of pills, cough syrup, a knife, something! Please Mina! Let me die already!!” She exclaimed, pressing her friend into allowing her to silence her inner demons. “Shhh Kiri, I’m sorry I know you do but, I can’t let you do that please, we’re gonna get you help, i know you need it, but we still gotta figure out a way to do that. Just hang in there please, you’re safe with me.” All Kirishima could do was nod and cry till she fell asleep.

Morning came and Kirishima was soon returned back home against their will yet she knew she couldn’t stay with the Ashidos forever. She already felt like a burden to them for having to come to them for food and clothes and even comfort or a place to escape. Walking up to the door, she knocked and waited for the door to be unlocked. A soft jingle jangle came and the door opened, stepping in she saw her mother smiling. “Finally you’re home, so how’d it go hun, did ya have fun?” She asked excitedly, the memories of the night before made her queasy to think about so she shook her head. “M-mom please I-I need to go lay down, I don’t feel good.” Frowning, the woman closes the door, rolling her eyes. “Oh please Ijima stop that, you’re fine, you’re always saying that or doing that stupid thing where you fall and pretend to have a seizure. I know you’re just doing it for attention.” Ijima sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’m not faking seizures for attention, why can’t you just believe me?” That earned her a harsh shove into the wall behind her, piercing red eyes glaring into scared ones that were once dull a second ago but now filled with fear. “Because I said so! Because I don’t have to believe you, I am the parent and you are MY child!” The more she spoke the louder Ijima’s mother’s voice got to the point of yelling. Ijima began to cower and shake from terror. “Honestly Ijima you have all of these stupid ‘problems’ like your ‘epilepsy’ or you saying you want to be a boy. Do you really think anyone’s gonna love a retarted tranny?!!” The slurs hurt but her phrases hurt the worst “Do you honestly think someone’s gonna wanna take care of you? No one is going to love you like that, no one wants someone like that! Get that through your head!” Her last words, Ijima was grabbed by her hair and her head was repeatedly bashed against the wall. Each slam made her feel weaker and weaker.

Dropping to her knees, Ijima went limp on the floor, the pounding radiated through her skull, causing her hands to tremble but she forced herself to silently walk up to her room. Each step, she wants to cry but biting her lip is the only thing keeping her from letting the floodgates break. She could feel her mind filling with static so she’d better hurry her pace, or if she didn’t she wouldn’t know what hit her.

Once in her own room, she let go, her entire being was weak. She collapsed with a thud onto the floor. Tensed and tight her body spasmed and jerked, eyes rolling back, she was defenseless and unable to do anything if anyone were to find her with plans in their head. Luckily her mother decided to leave her be for the time being. She’d wake up feeling sick, her body sore and tired, her vision gone. She was vulnerable and she hated it, unable to speak properly, ask for help, or even think of it. Who would help her anyway, it's not like she couldn’t do it herself. It took a bit of trying but she’d manage to get herself up right and into bed, which would lead to sleeping the day away or laying in bed until the nausea got worse enough to get sick.

When she woke up, she had no idea as to where she was. Her vision black, her skin was ice cold, and her stomach was sloshing queasily. Even without knowing her surroundings she forced herself to move. She stretched uncomfortably, her body was sore and achy from the seizure. Once she had stretched, she scooted her way around her room until she found her bed. Blindly searching the climbing up into her bed to lay down. It was exhausting and not to mention her nightly activities from the day before still left her exhausted. She ended up going back to sleep, she wanted to sleep away her days, she hated waking up. She hated opening her eyes and would sometimes pretend to be ‘out’ longer after a seizure just so people would leave her alone but. That didn’t always work, sometimes she would actually have another seizure, or someone would try and hurt her. Mainly the girls at school, they would just watch her convulse on the floor, step on her, take pictures or videos and post them around the school, or just gossip about her in general. Ijima wished she never had to wake up, and those urges grew stronger and stronger with each day until.

Today. She’d slept through yesterday but even now she felt horrible. Her vision hadn’t returned fully yet, it was spotty and blurry. She wasn’t mentally awake yet either, she had such horrible brain fog she could hardly register the screaming coming from outside her bedroom door. It was too late and in came her screaming mother. “IJIMA YOU CAN HEAR ME I KNOW YOU’RE AWAKE!” Ijima flinched, her eyes weren’t adjusting as quickly as she’d like and neither was her brain. Even though the screaming woke her up as the woman came barging in towards her. “WHY THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN IGNORING ME?!! I CALLED YOUR NAME SO MANY TIMES, YOU OVERSLEPT AND YOU’RE LATE FOR SCHOOL AND DON’T GIVE ME THIS ‘I HAD A SEIZURE' BULLSHIT CAUSE YOU’RE JUST A LYING BITCH WANTING ATTENTION!” The screaming scared her into a panic, she hated screaming, especially when her vision wasn’t right. If her vision was faulty her hearing would pick up the slack and so did every other sense. It made every sound more pronounced to the point where she could feel the venom in her mother’s words. Ijima was shaking as tears unknowingly ran down her face, she only knew this when she pointed it out. “Oh stop acting like this you brat, you’re so pitiful Emma left because of you. She didn’t want someone like you! She’d still be here if you weren’t so selfish!” A pillow was shoved over her face and held there but that didn’t muffle Ijima’s hearing. Ijima although used to hearing her mother say this, always hurt deep inside and the woman knew that. Emma was Ijima’s other mom, Emma joined the military a little after Ijima had started showing signs of epilepsy which only made Ijima more inclined to believe what the other woman known as Ito had told her. It was always a reminder, Ijima always felt responsible for Emma’s leaving but also felt betrayal and pain that no one would love her. Her own mother left her to join the military in order to avoid taking care of her. “Just go, get ready for school” Ito said coldly, getting up and releasing the pillow that suffocated Ijima. Ijima did her best to rise on her feet, steadying herself on the floor as her mother left her to get ready.

Ijima did her usual routine even when she’d had epileptic episodes that left her still rather disoriented. Though while in the bathroom a little voice in her head spoke to her. ‘Get those tums and take ‘em at school, see how many you can take before you die?’ With the suggestion she went through her medicine cabinet which really only held a bottle of tums, extra toothbrushes and toothpaste. Ijima grabbed the tums and snuck them into her bag before continuing her routine. She skipped breakfast. On her way to school, she always stopped by Mina’s house knocking on the door, it isn’t long before the pink haired girl appears. “Hey there Kiri!” Ijima didn’t bother to make a smile, she couldn’t, the weight of it was too heavy for those weak lips. Her hands were shaky, and her eyes were dead on the outside but if you looked deep enough you could see the pain. Ijima was quieter than usual, all she did was pretend to listen to Mina talk about gossip, magazines, typical girl things that she always spoke of. Ijima wasn’t truly listening, she was spacing out, her mind was filled with static but also the obsession of death. She didn’t want to live any longer and she’d take any out she could. Maybe if she downed the entire bottle of tums it’ll be enough to kill her? Though if another opportunity presented itself to her, she’d take it. She couldn’t stand being on this earth any longer. She couldn’t stand being around girls, they were deceptive, deceitful, demanding, cold, and selfish. The only girl she could trust was Mina, Mina always proved to Ijima that she was a loyal friend. Mina was actually the only one who treated Ijima well. Even though she had met some bad men or boys, awful girls or women were a lot more prominent in her life. Ijima was done with it, why should she have to suffer due to her mother’s ideologies?!

As they made their way to school they had to cross busy streets that were filled with cars rushing to their destinations. When Ijima got an impulsive thought ‘jump into traffic’ She could hear the cars coming and would Mina even be able to stop her in time? And would the car even stop in time? She’d have to time it just right. The cross walk was still being held up as the car zoomed down the lane when Ijima saw a truck coming barrelling down the street. Her mind raced yet was clouded by multiple loud ones that screamed ‘DO IT! JUMP!’.’DO IT YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT’ ‘YEAH DO IT, NO ONE’S GONNA MISS YOU!’ ‘FINALLY AN ESCAPE, YOU CAN’T FAIL NOW!’ ‘DO IT! JUMP’ The truck was getting closer and Ijima didn’t even fight the voices.

Everything was a blur, a scream and sickening thud and crunch. Then it went black.

Waking up to a loud beeping sound, Ijima’s eyes struggled to open and adjust to the bright lights and whiteness of the hospital. The brightness was blinding to her eyes as they’d been used to the dark for some time now. Eyes looking around, they’re met with white walls, white sheets, white bandages wrapped around her wrists and even around some of her torso. As she became more and more awake, Ijima started to feel the pain. It was a dull aching pain, but it wasn’t just physical. Oh no this was mental. Sure her ribs had been cracked, she sustained a mild concussion, lacerations from the truck, and had a few seizures. The mental pain was way worse, she didn’t want to wake up today, she didn’t wanna wake up ever! She didn’t want to make it, this wasn’t her goal to wake up in a hospital! She wanted to be dead! Gone, away from the hell her mother puts her through even if she deserves it! ‘Why?! Why couldn’t they just leave me for dead!??’ She thought to herself as tears welled up in her eyes. Everything was building up at once, her emotions filled her even if she still felt numb to some extent she finally screamed as her emotions spilled like an overflowing sink.

“Why! Why couldn’t you all just let me fucking die!?!! PLEASE JUST KILL ME!” Even with her voice breaking between her words it was loud enough to be heard from out the door. Grabbing harshly at her long black hair, tangling it between her fingers tightly with white knuckle gripping. She cried, sobbed more like it. It was so overwhelming to try and find another way to just end it as she wanted her life to be over so badly. She wanted to bleed out on the floor and never wake up again. Her eyes darted around but she noticed that the only thing in the room was her bed, the vitals machine, and an IV pole with a line or two or fluids that were connected to Ijima. Seeing the bandages around her arms she unravels them revealing several lacerations that were still rather fresh looking. With her sharp shark-like teeth, she raises an arm towards her lips, opens her mouth and chomps down as hard as she could. Blood floods her mouth like an ocean flooding the tidal pools of its beach. The taste of Iron coats her tongue, discolor’s her teeth, and drips down her lips escaping to splatter onto her blue hospital gown. Hearing the screams, a nurse came to check up on Ijima who was horrified to witness Ijima’s desperate method of self harm. She ran to get a doctor when Ijima detached her mouth from her arm. Blood pouring and adding to the small drips and splatters on her gown. Large splatters of the crimson fluid painted the blue gown discoloring it to a somewhat purple hue. When the nurse urgently returned with a doctor and another nurse the doctor was just as surprised!

First they had to tie Ijima down, placing straps over her to keep her from trying anything else.

While she was being strapped down the doctor and a nurse worked to repair Ijima’s arm, she tried to fight them but in the end she was immobilized. Tired of fighting the doctor all she could do was cry and mutter about why couldn’t they just let her die. The process of actually fixing her arm was a little extensive. They had to stop the bleeding, then see how far the damage went before deciding on what they’d have to do. Even though she didn’t break any bones, the doctor decided to cast both her arms to keep her from trying to bite herself again. She ended up being put to sleep this time.

#my psych academia #kiribakupsychward #abused Kirishima #transkirishima #epiletic Kirishima

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whumpywhumper · 4 years

Note

Ohh can we have some uh 'painful wound cleaning' for the BTHB? That is such an underused trope, but damn is it good -S

So this ask has been sitting in my box for like. . . a year? Sorry it took so long 😅 @badthingshappenbingo prompt

Tagging: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @captivity-whump @insanitywishes @oceanthesarcasamfox @walkingchemicalfire @voidwhump @imagination1reality0

Huge thanks to both @0idril0 and @rosesareviolentlyread I couldn’t ask for a better hype team

Follows directly after: Help Me Find You and here is the Masterpost

PAINFUL WOUND CLEANING

V***V

“Oh, good. You’re awake, darling.”

Amused, Lucien looked down at the witch as he leaned against the door frame. He watched as his newest acquisition moaned pitifully, wet tear tracks glistening on his cheeks from the overhead fluorescent lighting. Lucien knew that the first injection was always the hardest on his prey, the victim’s body not knowing how to make sense of the toxin, the venom wreaking havoc on their senses. The witch was no different. Markus was visibly trembling, curled on his side, his tall frame wracked with spasms as he tried, and failed, to move away from the door.

He wouldn’t be able to for a while yet. There was enough venom in Markus’s system, by Lucien’s instincts, to keep the witch down for days. He had absolutely flooded the other man with it in an effort to neutralize him long enough to get him to the nest, and even a day later, the smell of it was thick and heavy with every pulse of the witch’s heart. The venom did more than keep Markus down though, it marked him as Lucien’s, and any other vampire would be facing the Elder’s wrath if they tried to claim the witch’s blood for their own.

Markus was Lucien’s to do with as he pleased. To hurt, to bleed, to take apart piece by piece. That possessive thought made him rumble deep in his chest, the sound making Markus flinch and softly gasp. The predator part of Lucien’s brain picked up on the pain, disorientation and confusion his darling was expressing. The vulnerability. All for Lucien.

It was delicious. Intoxicating. He wanted more.

His venom glands throbbed with the burgeoning desire to release more of his toxin into the long column of Markus’s throat, to throw the writhing anguish of the witch into a tailspin so that every lungful of air was an agonized gasp, every flutter of skin over thudding arteries was a bruising throb. It would be easier if the witch gave in, let his brain accept the chemicals that would light up the pleasure center in his brain, so that all he would feel was ecstasy. But this had its own appeal, its own power that added to the high of magic in Lucien’s belly. The Elder had downed something powerful enough to make lesser predators afraid, and Lucien had turned it into his own private feast of pain and blood.

Lucien let his lips pull away from his fangs in a smile, eyes coating with black as he allowed the predator under his skin to stretch, appreciating the moment. His tongue pressed against the swollen glands in his mouth, skittering jolts of pleasure running down his spine. The Elder knew the effects of his own venom intimately. Not as vicious as a Red like Christine’s, not as intoxicating as a White’s. His venom rode the line, and the harder Markus fought against it, the more it would make him feel sick and drugged, like every movement was tearing his muscles apart.

Based on the pained whimper that punched out of Markus’s chest as he squeezed his gorgeous, green eyes closed, he was fighting it hard.

It was easier, usually, to control his prey if Lucien glamoured them into giving in, glamoured into going under with waves of pleasure so that they were malleable and compliant, but that wouldn’t work with a witch. All but the weakest would be able to fight off a vampire’s glamour, one of their few defense mechanisms, and Markus was anything but a weak witch.

The magic in the other man’s blood had almost knocked him on his ass as he’d tasted it. Rich and earthy, full of subtle notes of honey and spices. Even a day later, Lucien’s slow metabolism was still working through the residual magic, the high thrumming through his system. Not to mention the fact that Markus had put up a hell of a fight for being unprepared, injured, and taken by surprise. Lucien could still feel his face burning from the direct burst of sunlight to his skin, his glamour blowing apart, the way he’d been thrown through the air with only a word. It was fucking impressive.

If Markus had been prepared for him in that alley? Lucien wouldn’t have been able to take him, and the Elder wasn’t going to refuse this gift of coincidence.

The dynamic pull of the promise of strong prey had Lucien scenting the air, and the sweet smell of magic laced blood made his mouth water and his venom glands swell further. His eyes were drawn inexorably to where he’d quickly bound the gunshot wound in Markus’s shoulder. The temporary dressing was soaked through, dark red blooming through the white gauze.

Lucien wanted to feed, but the wound needed to be cleaned or the witch was going to die of infection before Lucien could enjoy him.

He stepped forward, dropping the heavy, black bag dangling from his hand onto the hard concrete with a thump. His rumble turned into a purr when the witch flinched, little noises of pain tripping out of his mouth like daisies in a field, and pushed the door closed behind him. Trapping them together in the small room. They would be moving back to the nest soon, but he wouldn’t give Markus any opportunity to escape, however unlikely.

Markus whimpered when the door slammed home, muscles tightening under his faded t-shirt as he shifted away from the noise. Lucien tutted, moving slowly toward the witch like one would a wounded animal. “Don’t worry, darling,” he crooned, “I promised I’d take good care of you, didn’t I?”

Kneeling next to Markus, he pressed his fangs into his lower lip to still his growing grin as the witch blinked rapidly, eyes wide as he tried to focus on the predator above him. He reached down to put his fingers through Markus’s sweat damp hair, but the witch jerked back, crying out as the venom tore through his body.

Lucien chuckled softly, finishing the movement to wrap a handful of silky strands around his fingers. “You can’t get away from me that easily, darling.” The witch’s breathing was turning sharp and panicked, and Lucien drank in those unfocused green eyes that stared up at him with dazed terror before pulling his hair, stretching the long column of his throat so he could see the sealed bite wound over his jugular.

Markus groaned, eyes squeezing shut, and another possessive thrill ran up Lucien’s spine, his purr deepening as he pressed his thumb against it. The pulse of blood under the other man’s skin was so alive, frantic and pumping with abandon. The witch’s breath hitched when he moved his injured arm, ostensibly to push away Lucien’s hand, the scent of fresh blood filling the air as he aggravated the bullet wound.

The vampire shuddered, glands filling with more venom as the urge to bite became almost unbearable. He swallowed thickly, tasting the venom that spurted out onto his tongue. “God, you’re not going to be good for my self control, beautiful.”

The witch’s eyes cracked open to glare up at Lucien, his weak flare of defiance subsumed by delirious terror. “Fuck off,” he panted, trying to pull away from Lucien’s hold on him. The Elder couldn’t have that. He tightened the grip he had on the witch’s hair, other hand sliding from his neck to grab a hold of his bicep tight enough to bruise. “AH!”

“We’ve talked about you being nicer to me, Markus,” he murmured in warning, “that’s no way to treat the person caring for you.”

Markus turned his face down toward the floor with a tight groan, but he didn’t try to get free again, his breaths coming in short, staccato jerks. From this close, the Elder could hear every strangled noise that Markus’s corded jaw held back, could feel how his lax muscles faintly trembled under his grasp. Licking his lips, the vampire loosened his hold on Markus’s bicep, running his hand over the warm, exposed skin of his arm as he examined the stained gauze wrapped around the witch’s shoulder.

Lucien didn’t like using a gun, the waste and damage of it irritating him, going against his usual methodology. But, after Chicago, he wasn’t in the mood to run down his preferred prey.

He let the glamour hiding his claws fade away, the sharp tips allowing him to cut through the blood glutted gauze easily. Markus flinched at the soft skkrt of ripping fabric, hair pulling taught under Lucien’s other hand. “So jumpy,” the vampire taunted, drinking in Markus’s pained moan as he pulled the pressure pads away from the injury, “I told you I was taking care of you, Markus. The least you can do is believe me.”

Markus whimpered, eyes wide with impotent fury as he drew agonized breaths through fear clenched teeth, weakly struggling to get away from Lucien’s restraining hands. The defiance was beautiful. Even overpowered and terrified out of his mind, the witch wasn’t surrendering to him. Making Lucien fight for every inch of dominance.

It thrilled him, made every noise a surrender.

Lucien couldn’t hold back his chuckle, his claws shredding through Markus’s t-shirt to expose the witch’s shoulder, ignoring the weak squirming and half-voice protests as more and more skin was revealed. “S-stop, fuck--nnn!”

“I have to see it to treat it, darling,” he purred, releasing the other’s black hair to settle along the join between the witch’s shoulder and neck, preparing to hold him down. Slowly, carefully, he palpated the area around the bullet hole, fingers staining red as they smeared through fresh blood.

Markus’s eyes screwed shut, throat working on a muffled scream as he tried to jerk away from the pain. “Now, now, darling,” Lucien scolded, pressing him down, exerting enough pressure to bruise as he controlled the other man’s movement. Despite Markus’s weak struggles, Lucien kept the witch on his side so he could see the entry and exit wounds before dragging the bag he’d brought in closer. Straddling Markus’s stomach, his powerful legs caging in the witch’s torso, Lucien reached over to slide open the zipper, revealing his medical supplies.

Before he got started, he slowly pet through Markus’s sweat damp hair, his thumb brushing over his tear streaked cheek to spread the salty moisture. “I guess I should have expected that you wouldn’t be able to hold still yourself,” he murmured, feeling the clench and release of Markus’s abs as the witch panted through the pain. He brought his hand back to Markus’s throat, making the witch still under him as his claws pricked against the delicate skin.

Lucien revelled, for a moment, in the satisfaction of holding his prey down. His eyelids fluttered, and he swallowed a sticky gush of venom as he took in a deep breath of blood scented air. The simple act of pinning Markus against his best efforts to get away soothed some of the predatory drive that was pulling at him, telling him to feed and subdue. The undeniable control settling some fractured part of his soul.

Groaning under his breath, his blood stained hand followed the line of Markus’s arm to find his wrist, squeezing hard enough to hear the bones grind together. “Though, I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy your struggling, beautiful--” he leaned forward, pressing a kiss against the bloody ball of Markus’s shoulder, “--it will probably hurt less if you don’t.”

“Lemme go,” Markus whimpered, voice thick and slurring, his wrist flexing in Lucien’s grip. Behind him, the Elder heard the other man’s feet seeking purchase on the floor, but Lucien’s weight was more than enough to keep his weak prey in place.

“Darling,” Lucien crooned, a smile in his voice, “you’re not going anywhere.” His long fingers spread around Markus’s throat, squeezing until the witch’s breathing turned into a harsh wheeze. “Now, shhh, stop struggling.”

Markus’s Adam’s apple bobbed against his palm as the witch struggled to breathe, his eyelids fluttering as his oxygen was restricted. His lips separated, mouth slung open on a desperate gasp as he started shaking in earnest. His already weak struggles weakened further, ugly wheezing his only movement until Lucien let up. He didn’t remove his hand completely, but the witch stayed still, a low sob coloring his next inhale. “Good boy,” Lucien praised softly, “good boy.”

<~>

“Good boy,” the man murmured, his voice barely audible over the frantic pounding of Markus’s heart, “Good boy.”

Markus whimpered, red hot shame filling his lungs as he dragged in another mouthful of air, his head pounding from the lack of oxygen. His body refused to do more than shake, too weak and addled to do anything other than obey the implacable command to stop struggling. The hand resting on his throat and the impossible weight straddling his torso reinforced the fact that he was helpless. At the mercy of someone much stronger than himself.

He wanted his magic, but he couldn’t sense the energies in the air, the touch of bare skin against his own igniting nothing more than rabbit-like fear. Mindless terror infested Markus’s muddied thoughts, scattering them like roaches. Nothing made sense without his magic, he’d never been without it, and every rational, decision-making part of Markus’s brain was on the verge of jibbering screams.

I want Illyn back, please, fuck, just stop.

His bad arm was manipulated at the wrist, trapping it with the other man’s knee against Markus’s belly, and a ragged moan dragged itself out of the witch’s mouth like reluctant roadkill. The noise entwined with the lingering ache of his esophagus as air rasped through his vocal cords, and he swallowed past the cottony taste of dehydration.

With his eyelashes clumped together against his cheeks, Markus couldn’t see what his captor was doing, but the sudden jettison of liquid against his shoulder made him cry out as the throbbing bullet wound ignited. Markus screamed, bucking up against the heavy weight over his torso, his pained shout transforming into choked sobs as the assault didn’t let up. The liquid spread down his chest to soak his shredded shirt and puddle on the ground. Markus shuddered, every jerking inhale an agonized moan through numb lips as the flush moved to the exit wound.

“Easy, darling,” crooned the honey-coated voice, strong hand still an unforgiving shackle around Markus’s neck, “just have to clean it out.”

Markus swallowed back more dazed sobs, the hollow ache in his shoulder spreading up his neck and down under his sternum, stealing the strength from every heartbeat as more acidic pain pulsed through him. He flinched when something clattered in front of his face. Blinking open tear blurred eyes, he made out an empty bottle of saline, the innocuous plastic so out of place that it didn’t even make sense to the overwhelmed witch.

A wet breath hissed through Markus’s teeth, and he shivered. His damp skin chilled in the cold air of the concrete cell, eyelids fluttering as the cold rooted its way through his shocky system. Stop, please, stop. He couldn’t tell if the words pushed past his rebellious tongue or were left to burn their way through his skull, but, mercifully, nothing else was poured into the raw wound in his shoulder.

Black licked at the lingering remains of his excoriated consciousness, and Markus felt the bruising grip on his throat release as something was pressed firmly against his shoulder. He couldn’t hear the faint, half-formed moans that caught in his throat, and he didn’t have enough control of his body to resist as his arm was moved. The hollow ache transformed into a numb kind of overwhelming agony that wasn’t soothed even as he realized the bullet wound was just being bandaged.

His eyelids fluttered, pain rocking through him again as a hand ran through his hair, the strands at the back of his head grabbed and tugged so that Markus’s slack features were drawn up toward the light. The breath stuttered in Markus’s chest, the movement like spiked chains pulling tight from the base of his skull down his spine, forcing his scant attention on his captor.

There was the impression of blond hair and pale skin before black coated eyes registered, and Markus’s heart sped frantically, fear curdling sour and heavy in his stomach. He made a truly pathetic sound as the vampire, the belated realization sliding in to join his venom laden blood, leaned over him, breath ghosting across his face. He tried to move away, but the air was knocked from his lungs as he was shoved from his side and onto his back.

Markus gasped, lungs refusing to expand for an infinite moment until his diaphragm ripped free of his spinal cord, and a harsh, agonized gulp of air forced its way down his throat. His head was drawn further back, the angle awkward and painful as a low, malicious laugh caressed his ears. “Something you’re scared of, darling?” A cold hand forced its way under the ragged edge of Markus’s ripped, wet shirt, resting heavily over his sternum. “Your heart is about to beat right out of your chest.”

“S-stop,” he stuttered, voice faint, strained, “you can’t—“

“Shhhh,” long fingers pressed over Markus’s lips, silencing his tattered protests, “I can, and I will. You can’t stop me, Markus,” he chuckled as black eyes examined him, a slow, lazy smile revealing long fangs, “you can’t even try.”

Cold, bottomless dread seated itself in Markus’s chest. Taking cozy residence as tears slipped down his temples, and he trembled.

“You can call me Lucien, little witch,” the vampire said, voice thick with anticipation as he lowered his face, nose brushing along the line of Markus’s exposed throat. The witch was instinctually conscious of the thud of his pulse, how thin the skin was that separated his life-blood from sharp, piercing fangs, “and, you and I, we are going to get very well acquainted.”

#Markus/Lucien Series #Painful wound cleaning #manhandling #choking #poisoned #vampire whump #urban fantasy setting #witch whumpee #bad things happen bingo

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houseof-harry · 4 years

Text

What Happens in Jersey Pt. 7 | G.D.

A/N - hi y’all! I hope everyone is safe and okay! I decided to post this part for the people who need a distraction from our world right now. So lmk what you think and enjoy!!! Read the last part here

Word Count - 5.8k

Warnings - none

Recap:

“How are you?”

You shrug, letting the warmth of the covers encompass your legs. “Won’t know until he talks to me.”

“You’re going to talk to him?” His eyebrows raise, genuine shock on his face. It’s clear he disapproves of your decision, but you decide to brush over it.

“Of course, he’s my best friend.”

“Your best friend who tried to mess up a relationship that’s important to you because he was selfish.” The bite is back in his tone from earlier today, and you’re not sure what to do.

“Gray, he can’t control how he feels. I told you, he’s one of the most important people in my life, of course I’m going to try and fix this.”

“You’ve got to me fucking kidding me.” He rolls his eyes and you huff, disappointed your night wasn’t over yet.

Something told you he’d be keeping you up for much less fun reasons than last night.

***

No matter what you said, Grayson refused to hear you out. And you were fucking pissed. Not only was he refusing to listen to you, he was acting like he had some type of claim to you, as if he could make you choose between him and Jessie.

“Grayson, stop. I’m tired and it’s late, please can I just sleep and we can talk about it in the morning?” You practically beg, your emotions draining you of the little energy you had left. You felt like you were on the verge of tears and you couldn’t handle him being as cold to you as Jessie had been.

“No! He’s just trying to get to you, Y/N. I don’t like the idea of him being with you at school when I’m not there.” The frustration was clear in his voice, his biceps bulging from crossing against his chest. His jaw was clenching as he gave you a hard look, his gaze refusing to let you go.

“You sound like a fucking animal or some shit, Gray! He would never hurt me or anything, I’ve been fine on my own this whole time and-“

“But you’re not alone now,” he cuts in, not letting you finish your sentence. You go to speak again but he beats you to it. “It’s us and strawberry now, not just you. He’s pulling some childish ass shit like this is high school but it’s not! There’s a baby involved, and he is acting like he can just fucking walk in and try and take you away.” By the end of his rant, his chest is rising up and down and his hands are in his hair, pulling at the tips to try and relieve some of the stress and anger in his body.

“Take me away from what? And I’m well aware there is a baby involved, I’m the one carrying it. I’m not a piece of meat or an incubator for you two to fight over. You’re being just as immature as him,” you argue, the annoyance in your body showing through your tinted cheeks. Your tension headache was back, resting behind your eyes and causing you to close them and pinch the bridge of your nose. You’d always experienced your emotions so physically, and it was a blessing and a curse all at once. Right now, though, it felt like just a curse.

“That’s not what I’m doing! I want what’s best for you, and to keep you happy and healthy.” You could tell he was getting tired too, the conviction in his voice weaker as his shoulders slumped.

“Seems like that’s all you and Jessie say, is that you want what’s best for me but no one has asked what I want! Not even once. Somehow you both think you know me better than me.” For the first time tonight, his face softens as he takes in your words. You decide you don’t want to hear it, though. So, you shuffle off the bed as he watches you.

“Y/N, wait. Where-“

“I’ll sleep on the fucking couch because it’s obvious that this was some fake ass fantasy or something. I should have known better than to think this would work,” you huff without looking back. You can hear his protests until you shut the door, but you continue to ignore him as you walk farther and farther from the laundry room, farther from Grayson. The living room is cold and dark, which makes you stub your toe on the side table. You hiss, grabbing the chair as you do your best to keep quiet. Of course you’d stub your toe after having possibly one of the worst days ever, you couldn’t catch a break.

You grab a blanket once you’re recovered, going to the couch to lay down. That’s when you realize you left your phone charging on the bed. You’d have to lay there doing nothing until you could fall asleep. If you could at all, with your racing thoughts and heart still beating quick in your chest.

It felt like you had lost two really important people in the span of hours. You knew Grayson would always be there, but not because he wanted to. He had to. But you also should have seen it coming. It’s rare life was kind to you, and this was no different. You almost start to get mad at yourself for getting your hopes up, your cheeks continuing to radiate heat. You’re sure if you looked in a mirror you’d see red splotches across them. It made you even more mad that you could never hide how you were feeling, you wish you could just be able to not let anyone read you so easily.

Before you know it, you feel a tear fall from your eye and down to the couch. You do your best to stay quiet as they continue to pour out of you, your new reality sinking in and the fear you felt the day you found out slowly coming back like a brick in your stomach. You prayed your baby never had to feel the way you do right now. You knew they wouldn’t, you’d be there. But it still sucks to know there are people who could hurt them.

***

You spend the early morning in the bathroom, your morning sickness worse than it had been in weeks. When you had woken up it felt like you hadn’t even slept. You had a pain in your neck from the hard pillows on the couch and your back hurt from how tense you still were. Getting sick wasn’t helping, either, but at least you knew how to deal with that.

You only perked up when you hear a knock on the door, your head rolling up from where it rested on your shoulder as your body slumped against the wall. You only managed to hum, words too much right now.

“Y/N?”

Grayson’s voice rings through the bathroom, echoing against the tile and porcelain surrounding you. You feel anxiety wash over you again, unable to comprehend having another conversation with him right now. So you merely hum again, confirming that it’s you in the bathroom without engaging with him.

“Are you okay?”

You’re unsure of how you should answer because physically you weren’t okay right now but you’d be fine. Mentally, you weren’t so positive abuot.

You sigh, doing your best to sit up all the way without the help of the wall. Grayson doesn’t like the silence that follows his question, his impatience shining through as he tries to jiggle the handle.

You roll your eyes, one hand gripping the edge of the toilet as you slowly get your feet underneath you to try and stand.

“Y/N, please let me in.”

“What if I’m shitting?” You snap, your voice weak and raspy from your lack of sleep and still raw from when you last got sick.

“I heard you throwing up, please let me help.” His words are quick to fall from his mouth, his stress more apparent to you now that you were less foggy in the head.

“Don’t need it.” You do your best to sound confident, but to your dismay your voice is weak and tired, a reflection of how you feel.

Grayson pauses, deciding what the best route was with you. You always seemed so resistant to help, and he didn’t want to push you but this is what he does. When he cares about people, he wants to make sure they’re okay if there’s anything he can do about it. Between your conversation – alright, fight – last night and how sick you were this morning, he was truly worried about you. He wasn’t always good with his words and let his jealousy take over last night.

“Remember literally two days ago when I said I’d be there with you for all of this? And you agreed? Please let me in.”

By this time, you’d managed to stand, your vision spotted for a second before you were able to orient yourself. You make your way to the door, and before you can even open it yourself he’s pushing it wide open, his eyes wide as they finally fall on your figure. He can see the way you seem smaller, weaker than normal and his chest hurts because of it.

He had come to learn quickly you were a strong willed, confident person. It took a lot to take you down, yet he had managed to do it in the two days you’d spent together. Guilt slowly worked its way from his heart to consume his whole body. He reaches out to you, trying to bring you into a hug. You put your hands on his chest to stop him, and he reluctantly respects your boundaries.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” A baffled laughed passes your chapped lips as you grab the door with one hand, leaning on the door frame so that you can have some type of support as you box him out of the room.

“I’m tired, I feel sick, I’m emotionally drained, and I need a shower. And stop giving me the fucking pity eyes.”

Grayson sighs, his gaze falling from you and finding the ground. He fidgets in front of you, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t pity you but he does want to help.

“I’m done, so if you-“

“Done?” He feels his stomach drop to his ass the moment the words leave your lips. Yeah, he’d been selfish and a bit douchey, but you knew he could be like that sometimes. He didn’t think you’d just end it, not that fast.

“Done puking, I just need some water.”

As soon as he hears your explanation, relief releases his tense muscles a bit.

He nods, resisting the urge to rub your cheek or squeeze your hip before backing up. “Do you want to come downstairs with me?”

Your mouth opens to respond, but no words come out. Honestly, you want nothing more to sit on the couch or in his bed, blankets surrounding you as you do your best to rest. But, you truly weren’t sure if you could get down the stairs. It was hard enough dragging your legs to the bathroom door, and downstairs was a lot farther than that.

Grayson raises his brow, still waiting for a response. He had taken a step away from you to start walking, but stopped when he noticed your lack of an answer to his question.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll just stay in here.” You nod, as if it would make sense to hang out in the bathroom even though you’d already told him you weren’t going to be sick again.

“What’s happening, please tell me,” Grayson begs softly, the concern coming back through his body as he watches you contemplate your words carefully.

“I just,” you shrug, your brain foggy once again as it has to work hard to talk to him, “I’m tired.”

“So then come lay down on the couch, I’ll bring you some water,” he reasons.

You shake your head, unable to look at him. Admitting weakness was hard enough, but after last night it felt impossible to do with him.

“Why not?” He does his best not to get frustrated, or sound it at least.

“Too tired,” you mumble, forcing the words out so you could end the conversation as soon as possible.

“Too tired to go downstairs?” You simply nod, grateful he finally got what you were saying.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, he’s walking back to you and reaching around to turn off the lights. He wraps an arm under yours, his hand finding your waist like it was meant to be there always. Your arm falls from the door to hold his shoulder as you give in, the idea of being on the couch too pleasant to pass up.

He guides you slowly and after every step you continue to lean on him more and more. He was warm and strong, the totally opposite of how you felt right now. It annoyed you he could still make you feel good even when he’d pissed you off, he shouldn’t hold that power over you already.

He gets you situated on the couch, watching you put the blanket over your lap. He looks about ready to speak, but decides against it and getting you a glass of water instead. When he comes back, you graciously accept it with a small smile, the cool condensation on the cup managing to make your head clear a bit.

Grayson stands awkwardly near you, fiddling with his fingers as he debates whether or not to sit with you. After a minute of watching you sip your water, he lets himself get comfortable on the couch, a good foot or two between you two.

You keep your gaze at the blank TV, letting the water soothe your throat. You’re sure your eyes were still puffy from crying last night, but you hope he thinks it’s related to being pregnant or something.

“So are we just not gonna talk about it?” His gruff voice comes from deep within his chest, like he didn’t want the words to come out.

“What’s there to say?” You can’t even bring yourself to look at him as you say it, knowing that no matter his reaction, you’d be disappointed.

“Y/N,” he sighs and you hear him shifting to turn to you. “I’m sorry.”

You nod, biting your lip and continuing to act like the rest of the room is so much more interesting than looking at him. Even if he means it, you’re not sure what to say. All you expected was to be treated with respect, and you feel like he didn’t do that. How would he treat your kid? You just didn’t know him well enough to trust he won’t, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.

Once Grayson realizes you’re not going to respond verbally, he reaches out to grab your forearm lightly. You pull away, taking another drink of water.

“Y/N, come on.”

You roll your eyes, your anger quickly building again.

“What, Grayson? You apologize once for making me feel like shit for caring about my friend because you’re jealous so now I have to forgive you and act like everything is good? We’ve barely known each other for a few months, not even two. How am I supposed to know this won’t be my life forever with you? And our baby? You don’t own me or get to control me just because I’m pregnant with your kid. So I don’t have anything to say right now, not until I know that’s not you.” You shake your head, disappointed you even have to be saying this to him at all.

As the silence drags on after your words slowly ring in both of your ears, you finally look at him. He looks smaller, less like the tan, buff, LA douche you were used to seeing. He was exhausted, his arms wrapped around his torso as if to hug himself as he let each of your words sink into him.

He didn’t know what to say to make you feel otherwise because he gets it. From your point of view, he looks like an asshole who only cares about keeping you to himself. And a teeny tiny part of him knew that was a little bit true. He didn’t like the idea of your being with anyone else. But he also knew you were right about the fact that you barely knew each other and that you truly didn’t know that that he was different. He was shit at understanding his emotions sometimes and even worse at expressing them.

“You’re right,” he sighs, deciding that admitting he was wrong would be a good start at least.

Your mouth opens to bite back, but you immediately close it when you hear his admission rather than a defense. “I sounded like a dick last night. I let my emotions get the best of me, which is something that happens a lot. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I wanted to control you, I don’t want to.”

You can slowly feel the tension in your chest unravel, your muscles relaxing a bit. You slump more into the couch, resting your head on the top to look at him sideways. You weren’t ready to go back to how you were, but it was nice to know he could at least admit when he was wrong. And he was definitely communicating more than the other guy who’d thrown a wrench in your friendship.

It had been total radio silence from Jessie since last night. You assumed it would stay like that for a bit, until he was ready to talk so you were going to give him space. You just hoped that would be before graduation.

“Well, good,” you huff, still doing your best to sound pissed even though you’re just tired now.

“Wanna have a nap?” He asks.

You purse your lips, unsure of what to say. Honestly, you’d love to sleep for another ten hours, but you weren’t sure you wanted to sleep with him again.

“The sheets are new, I can make you some food while you sleep,” he offers.

“I’ll sleep, but you don’t have to cook anything for me. Not into the idea of food right now.” He doubted that you meant it, knowing how much you hated his help, but by the look on your face you meant your words. You’d unintentionally let a look of disgust take over your features at the thought of eating anything.

He nods, standing and holding a hand out to you to help you stand. You take it reluctantly, standing and grabbing your water. He takes the almost empty cup from you after letting go of your hand. You can feel the empty presence all too fast again when he walks away, hating how you missed the feeling of him being near you.

Before you let it consume you, you walk to the laundry room and get comfy in his covers. If he was gonna let you be in here, you were gonna make the most of it. He walks back in with your water and places it on the bed side table.

“Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him.

He smiles at you, his cheeks turning pink at the thoughts that immediately run through his mind. You looked absolutely adorable, his comforter up to your chin seeing as you had cocooned yourself in his blankets. You were cute and in his bed and it overwhelmed him.

“Don’t worry about it. Now please rest.”

And that’s what you did. You spent most of the day and night relaxing, hanging out with Ethan a bit in the afternoon but otherwise that was it. Some of the awkwardness had lifted from around you and Grayson, but there was still a lot of apprehension between the both of you. If you didn’t know where you stood before, you definitely had no clue now.

So when you had to leave for school the next morning it was bitter sweet. You were going to miss both the twins, but you were excited to get back to your apartment with people you loved and just an environment your felt comfortable in. It was much easier to act like everything was normal there.

***

You’d practice doing this since you were young. It was a response to anything that could hurt you. You run, avoid, ignore anything that can hurt you. You shut it out to protect yourself, the pain you’ve experienced already enough for at least ten people. It became a habit at that point. So when people had the potential to hurt you, you shut down completely. You’d avoid them, create distance, put up a wall to try and maintain some type of happiness.

And Grayson was no different.

Your last few months were busy at school, sure, but you couldn’t lie and say that was why you barely spoke to him. You shut him out, kept yourself protected from anything else he could do to hurt you.

It was hard at first. He’s irresistible, and not just in a physical way (although that didn’t help with all your hormones). He was charming and funny and just an enjoyable person to be around. But everything he’d said to you when you had been with him in the city and that night rang through your mind whenever you questioned what you were doing. You were merely doing what was best for yourself. Right?

So daily facetimes went to phone calls a few times a week, texts became about baby tips he found online, Pinterest recipes to help relieve your seemingly constant heartburn, and once in a while updates about his life. A small part of you was happy the hard thing had already happened. He could go back to his LA life and start acting how he would once your baby was born.

Right now you were more focused on your friendship with Jessie. It had taken him two weeks to talk to you, and it had felt like the longest two weeks of your life. But finally he came over and explained everything he had been feeling. He apologized for what happened in Jersey, and things almost went back to normal. You didn’t see him as much and things were still a bit awkward, but you were friends. And that’s all you could want right now.

When graduation rolled around, you were pretty happy again. You’d even been able to find a loose dress to hide your stomach that looked a little bit bigger than when you’d joke around with your friends about being pregnant after a big meal, pushing your stomach out and laughing together. Except you were really pregnant this time, and you weren’t forcing your tummy out at all. If anything, you did everything you could to hide it. That meant dresses everyday no matter what.

You’d had to tell your roommates, because you weren’t about to stop wearing comfy clothes when you were home. They were all beyond excited and made you happy to have a banana sized baby growing in you.

It only became strikingly obvious when you were celebrating graduation a week later at Jessie’s house with his family and friends, a gathering in the backyard as the warm May sun shone down on you all. You were grateful for the fact that another flowy dress would be appropriate for the party, but not having even one drink to celebrate something you’d worked so hard to accomplish? People were catching on, and fast.

Jessie’s mom was the first one to ask you something. You decided it was about time to start telling people, your 20-week mark only a couple of days away.

Before she could do more than congratulate you, an all too familiar voice called your name from behind you. You turned to see Grayson, trailed by Ethan and their mom.

You were completely frozen, unsure of what to do or say. Sure, you’d been talking on the phone a couple times a week, but you always kept it short and about the baby. You don’t even remember what you had told Grayson about your mended friendship with Jessie and if he knew you’d be here or not.

In what seems like a flash you’re now alone with him, Jessie’s mom busying herself with Ethan and Lisa.

“Hi.”

Somehow his greeting is more awkward than the first time you met him. Or the first time you saw him when you’d been pregnant with the baby. This was definitely the worst one so far, and you hated it. It didn’t sit well with you.

“Hey,” you murmur, your heart rate picking up as you fiddle with your hands in front of you.

“You look…” His eyes fall to your stomach that is more pronounced due to the way your arms almost frame it, the color of your yellow sundress almost making you glow in his eyes.

“Fat? Bloated? Like I could float away like a balloon?” You suggest.

His eyes widen, his hands coming up to physically show his disagreement. “No, not at all. Pregnant, yeah. But also really good.”

You nod, a tight smile on your lips as you watch the rest of the party continue. A part of you wished you could be like the rest of them, their lives going as planned while you stood here with your baby daddy who you were friendly with? Friends even? But you wanted more? But you also didn’t.

Well, you did but you were scared. But it’s easier to say you don’t. That’s what you’d told your roommates, that you weren’t interested in him. Payton saw right through it, of course, but didn’t question you.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” You knew you should have seen in coming, but it still made you want to shit bricks when he asked you that.

“Yeah, sure. No bathrooms, though.”

Your joke makes him chuckle, your spirits lifting a bit at that. It gave you the tiniest bit of hope that this wasn’t how it always had to be with him, that one day you guys could do more than just be awkward.

He brings his hand to your lower back to guide you into the house. He brings you to a guest room, the one you were staying in. You wondered if he knew you’d be in this room, but you’re sure he just knew this was a place you could be alone.

“When’s our next appointment?” He asks, and you cringe.

You’re unsure of how you feel about how he asked that. You’re grateful he was involved, and that he cared. It’s more than you expected originally. However, he gets to ride through this relatively unscathed. You’re the one getting poked and prodded, growing a baby in the first place. Especially with the distance over the past few months, it felt like he was less involved than you’d originally anticipated. You have been prepping for it to be you and your baby alone, and he’d pop in whenever he was free. But for him to come in and just assume it was a “we” and “our” situation when he decided to show up wasn’t sitting well with you.

“Wednesday, the 13th.”

He nods, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting his elbows on his knees to support his jaw with his hands. “Is it the appointment we find out the baby’s gender? I googled it was supposed to be the 20 week appointment, but what’d the doctor say last time?”

He’d missed the last appointment over Easter, and you had gone alone. Again, not surprising and it didn’t feel good. But, he had life in LA to attend to.

“We can if we want to, yeah.”

“Do you want to?”

You stop fiddling with your fingers, your gaze falling to him. “Not really, no.”

He lifts his head to look at you, his brows raised in surprise. “Really?”

You nod. “Gender reveals and stuff are stupid. I’m not dressing our baby based on their gender or decorating their room by it or anything. I just want a healthy, happy baby. Boy or girl,” you shrug, bending your arms to wrap them around your stomach somewhat protectively.

He takes in a deep breath, considering your words.

“I feel a bit dumb now.”

A short giggle leaves your lips breathlessly as you quirk your brow. “Why?”

He groans, falling back onto the bed and covering his face with his hands, dragging them over his skin as he puts off his answer as long as possible.

“I might, uh, might have already started a Pinterest board for gender reveal ideas.”

Before you can control it, your laughter bubbles up out of your chest. The idea of the broad man laid out in front of you sitting hunched over his computer and adding probably some of the weirdest gender reveals he could find to his long list of gathered ideas. You wondered if he had a funny name for it, or if he just called in gender reveal.

“I can’t lie, I’m just not into it. We could just have a normal baby shower, still. I’m sure there’s plenty of Pinterest content for that.” Another groan falls from Grayson before he sits up again, facing you. His cheeks are pink and his shoulder are slumped as he looks at you, his eyes falling to your stomach.

“You’re right, and we can still play so many of the stupid games like pin the umbilical cord on the baby.”

You immediately start laughing again, gripping the dresser for support as you cover your mouth with your free hand. “Grayson what the fuck is in your search history?”

“Shut up, I’m excited,” he pouts, but it’s clear he’s trying to hide a smile.

You two settle down and the air quickly becomes tense again. You stood there awkwardly as he picked at his shorts.

“So…”

You look up at the sound of his voice, waiting for him to continue.

“What are you doing now that you’ve graduated?”

Ah yes, the question you’ve somehow managed to dodge with vague answers this whole time. Really, you had no clue. Jessie had said you could live with him until you got yourself on your feet, and you had been applying to jobs this whole time. However, for every phone interview you got and asked about maternity leave, you somehow never got a call back again. You decided you didn’t want to work somewhere that didn’t value the health and family members of their employees, but that narrowed your findings down to basically nothing.

You had money saved from working through high school and college, but not enough to support yourself and a baby until you could go to work and afford a nanny. It was looking a bit grim, to say the least.

You shrug, turning to face the mirror to watch yourself speak rather than to look at him. “Not sure, been applying for jobs but nothing’s panned out.”

“Are you trying to work in the city?”

“Yeah, most opportunities there.”

“Starting after the baby is born, right?”

You turn back, raising a brow. You know you had talked about that when you first found out you were pregnant, but that just wasn’t realistic now. As in, now you were in reality and not a fictional fairy tale where a prince charming named Grayson Dolan swoops you off your feet and brings you to his lavish castle to dote on your every need.

“What?” He can see the thoughts racing through your mind and he’s desperate to know what you were thinking. You always did this, had about a million thoughts and said maybe one of them.

“Can’t just wait until then, I’m not a freeloader. I need money to live, to raise the baby once they’re born. Save for a nanny so I can work in the first place.”

He shakes his head at that, his face hardening. “No nanny, we can raise our baby on our own.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “How?”

“I told you, you don’t have to worry about any of that stuff. I got it covered.”

“Oh yeah? So, you just get us an apartment for me and the baby to live in while you live it up in LA and I’m here alone with our kid? Do you really think that of me?”

“Y/N, no,” he defends, standing up. “I’m – I’m working on it, okay? Stop insisting you’re alone, and that you’re going to be alone. You’re not, I’m here.”

You roll your eyes, running your tongue over your teeth to try and decide how you want to go about this. How can he still make it sound like everything will be fine?

“I won’t be alone when it’s convenient for you, but what happens the rest of the year?” You challenge.

The vein in his neck bulges and he looks like he’s doing everything he can to contain his anger. “Why are you so set on me being the bad guy, Y/N? You’re the one who pushed me away and stopped sharing your life with me, you’re then one who sounds like she doesn’t want me here. I’ll literally move back to Jersey full time if that’s what’s best for us!”

“Because you can’t! That’s not your life, you have to be in LA, you and Ethan both do. And I can’t invest myself in you knowing that your life will never be here, with us. I have to protect myself, and our baby.”

Your words clearly affect him, the hurt shooting across his face. His eyes refuse to leave you, his hands reaching out to you.

“Y/N, no. You don’t have to protect yourself from me.”

You step back, your back hitting the dresser as you try to keep some type of distance between you guys.

“Of course I do. We spent, like, two days together and you expected me to drop my best friend for you. If us raising a baby together would have worked, we would have found a groove by now. We would have to respect each other, and our separate lives, to join together to raise this baby. But you can’t even recognize how your life will impact our baby and how I can’t just shape my life to make you comfortable.”

He sucks a breath in, his thoughts racing through his head a mile a minute. He had no clue how much you’d misinterpreted what happened with Jessie and how much you were unaware of how flexible he could be with his job and how much him and Ethan were looking to come back to the east coast anyways. And most importantly, he had no idea you were unaware of how much he cared about you, your happiness, health, and well-being.

But before he can say any of that, you’re walking towards the door.

‘Y/N-“

“No. It’s Jessie’s fucking graduation party, we’re not going to ruin it.”

And with that you were out the door, not even looking back at him.

Read the next part here!

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ficsnroses · 4 years

Text

Workout - Keanu Reeves x Reader

We really need more shirtless content I’m running out of gifs oof. Anyway, Enjoy!

Word Count : 3.1k

Warnings : Smut, fluff. Unprotected Sex. Intercourse in a public place. NSFW. A few F bombs.

Summary : Reader and Keanu are in the middle of a workout session together at their gym, when Keanu starts to feel a bit frisky, resulting in a quickie in the gym restroom.

*Thank you so much for the birthday wishes this morning, you all made my day ❤️

Huffing, a few beads of sweat trickling down your forehead, you groan quietly, lightly, barely audible, on your second set of dumbbell seated crunches.

The cool breeze of the air conditioner kisses your skin from all around, the music thumping with each beat, the sounds of throaty groans and sulks coming every now and then from around the complex.

Your boyfriend, Keanu, watches you through the wall mirror, as he progresses through his round of bar pull ups. Sweat has seeped through his gray muscle shirt, his perfectly bulked arms defined and tensing each time he pulls himself up for a rep. Admiring, slightly intoxicated by the way his broad muscles look beautifully toned, the movement and definition prominent in each pull, you bit your lip, momentarily forgetting the pain burning in your abs each time you move.

Keanu and you decided to have your morning workout together today, in the gym you both attended regularly. Often, you’d have to come separately, due to your conflicting schedules, however, on fortunate days like today, you both were free from any work in your respective careers, allowing you to accompany each other.

You preferred to have Keanu as your gym buddy, both being able to push each other harder than you may normally go. Of course, the added bonus of seeing each other work out was always a plus.

Biting your lip, your eyes squeeze shut, taking in deep, low breaths as you struggle to finish the last 5 reps of your set. Keanu sees you through the mirror, smiling at how fierce, yet simply beautiful, almost completely adorable you looked trying to finish.

“Almost there, babe! You can do it.” He encourages, eyes shining as they watch you.

Throwing your head back in discomfort, eyes tight shut, you rasp. “I don’t think I can, Ke.” You almost yell.

The gym is occupied by a few more scarce patrons, mostly people from the higher end of society, or people working in the entertainment industry. The complex was one of the more private, secluded ones for people of Keanu’s celebrity status. If he had it his way, he would be fine with attending any other gym. However, unfortunately, that didn’t always guarantee his safety, or privacy.

Keanu and you had been dating for 4 years now, and were completely committed to the relationship. Rarely, people find the one person who makes everything fall into place, everything so much more special, providing the companionship everyone dreams of. Keanu and you had found that in each other, and neither of you were willing to ever compromise it.

The way he treated you with the upmost respect, the upmost care, the upmost affection brimming in each touch, the way he showed you each and every day how much you meant to him, it all felt as if a dream.

A beautiful, magnificent dream, you never wanted to be awaken from.

Snapping out of your impromptu stargaze, to the sound of Keanu’s snicker, your ears perk up.

“Huh?” you ask, brows furrowing.

“I asked if you were alright, sweetheart.” He repeats, picking up the weighted dumbbell from in front, to put it away for you.

You wipe your hand across your forehead, tightening your ponytail in the process.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, was just thinking about something.” You respond, smiling at him. He kisses your shoulder, rubbing your forearm lightly.

“Want me to grab you a mat?” he proposes, taking a drag of his water bottle. It was one of those monstrous 2 litre big ones, which you found incredibly extra on his part. Nonetheless, your petite, 16-ounce regular sized bottle looked pretty cute next to his.

“Yeah, I’m almost ready to go home honestly.” You sigh, lacing your hand with his, leaning your head on his shoulder for a brief exhaustion break. His toned bicep muscles felt hard under your head, a quality so easily, astoundingly attractive. Planting a kiss on your head, he moves to grab a black, shining yoga mat for you.

Even at a place like the gym, where the entire point is to move around, Keanu still brought things to you, being the gentleman he was. You’d often tell him to stop, as you’re perfectly capable of doing things for yourself. He wouldn’t budge though; it was almost a habit at this point.

A habit of always making his girl’s life easier.

Taking position, you watch Keanu revert back to his place by the bench, using an incredibly massive sum of weight to complete some bicep curls. Gosh, his arms look so fucking good, glistening with a thin layer of sweat, pumping the weights…

Exhaling with a shake of the head, you begin to work on some squats, making sure your stance and form were perfectly proportionate, flawless. The seamless fabric of your jet black workout tights stretches to accommodate each movement, your ass looking heavenly in the complex mirror.

You see Keanu staring from his place, clearly biting his lip. Unable to control, you let a small smile creep to your lips, realizing this was definitely turning him on. You make sure to stick your ass out a little more, enjoying the effect you had on him, knowing there was nothing he could do until you got home.

Still mindlessly pumping the weights, you would’ve swore you saw him lightly, briefly palm his bulge. The veins in his arms had become more prominent, the outlines so breathtakingly protruding with each lift, breathing in deep with a shaky exhale as his eyes gloss over your sensually perfect figure.

With your legs bending again, arms held out front with a clasp, you smirk his way.

“Stop staring, babe.” You mouth to him, simpering, never stopping your reps, eyeing the other patrons thoughtlessly routining around.

His eyes divert to your behind, watching how perfectly plump it shows on display each time you bend. No matter how many times he’d been with you, no matter how many times he’d had you, browsed his hands over each part of your divinely sculpted body, you’d still had a perplexing effect on him, flaunting your figure, knowing he wanted it, but couldn’t have it right in this moment.

Setting the weight down with a shaky breath, before trudging over to you, his sweaty palm lays warm against the small of your back, as his hoarse voice speaks into your ear, breath hot against your skin.

“I need you. Now.”

You furrow your brows, expression disorderly, borderline shocked.

“We’re in public, Ke.” You mouth, emphasising.

He comes closer, his front bushing against yours, head resting on your shoulder, close enough to whisper, as his fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings on your behind.

“There’s a single use restroom in the back, darling…”

You pull back, to look him straight into his obviously insane, earthy eyes. He couldn’t be for real.

Keanu and you had a very healthy sex life, despite his older age. His experience accumulated made him an ideal lover, you’d be lying if you said the thought of him taking you didn’t send your knees weak each time. Being with him was one of your favourite feelings in the entire world…but in public? At the gym?

It seemed a bit too wild.

“We’ll get caught. And not to mention, it’s illegal.” You affirm, whispering so only he could hear.

“We’ll be quick, baby. I need my girl…” he kisses the crook of your neck, whispering, lacing his fingers with yours, the other hand smoothing your hips. Against your stomach, his bulge pokes, making you swallow in anticipation.

He really had a way with his words.

Glancing around for a clear coast, you feel yourself giving in to the feel of his large palm on your skin, smoothing up and down. Running a hand swift through your hair, a mutter breaks under your breath.

“Fine.”

Lacing his hand in yours, you wait until the people around are completely occupied in their regime, Keanu trailing behind you as you stride to the back restroom. Feeling a rush of adrenaline cast over you, peeving in, you suddenly become increasingly excited, aroused.

You quickly open the door, eyes still glancing around on the lookout, as you enter, pulling Keanu in behind you to the small restroom. With a thud, the door locks securely closed, you unconsciously nip at the skin on your bottom lip, staring Keanu.

Within seconds, he’s backed you up against the wall, his lips taking place on yours, kissing hungrily. Intertwining your hands in his lengthy, raven mane, tugging ever so slightly, his bulky hands roam your body, sneaking into the band of your sports bra.

“You have to be quiet, okay sweetheart?” he breaths, breaking the kiss, never breaking eye contact. You tend to be quite vocal while you’re active, expressing how amazing he makes you feel each time, he knew that darn well.

You nod your head rapidly, bringing your hand to rest over his, guiding it over to repose on your sports bra clad chest, urging to feel him touch you more. Placing a quick kiss to your lips, he brings both hands to tug the bra over your breasts, allowing them to fall free, completely unrestricted, exposed for him. They bounce beautifully, so plump, making his bulge only grow bigger.

He leans down, hands still secured on your waist as your rest on his shoulders, to place a few wet kisses over your modesty.

“So fucking beautiful, baby.” He breaths into the dip of your cleavage, placing another kiss on the soft skin.

“We have to be quick, Ke.” You whisper, palming his now very prominent erection, biting your lip in eagerness. In a swift movement, you snake your hand into the waistband of his sweats, into his boxers, grabbing a hold of his swollen cock. Stroking him with your soft, petite hand, you see him glance down, throwing his head back, eyes clasped shut in relief from your touch.

“Feel good, baby?” You giggle, pressing a kiss to his chest, still stroking his generous length.

“So good..” he barely manages to choke out. With his stocky digits, he returns the favour, trailing them into the waistband of your panties, rubbing along the seams of your drenched cunt. His touch is deliciously blissful, sending the pit of your stomach drifting with butterflies of pure liberation, but not enough. You needed him. All of him.

You buck into his touch, still stroking his generous length, as two of his thick, sturdy fingers explore your entrance, barely thrusting in. The sounds of your wetness can already be heard, saturating, dowsing his fingers as they move.

“So wet, princess.” He remarks, placing a few more wet kisses to your neck, as you both touch each other, preparing for the taking. “Can you take these off for me, sweetheart?” he probes, free hand smoothing over the fabric of your tights.

In a swift motion, you slide down your tights, pooling at your ankles as your hands remove from Keanu’s boxers.

“Ke, I can’t wait any longer. Please.” You murmur. Sliding his own sweats down slightly, just enough to allow his member loose, seeping with clear, liquidly pre cum, Keanu immediately pumps himself a few times, before setting his hand on the back of your thigh. Leaning in close, his gruff voice whispers,

“I need you to bring this around my waist, darling.”

Adhering, you wrap your leg around his waist, tight, fixating him in place. His herculean arms wrap around your waist, propping you up slightly to allow himself better access. With the tip of his cock close to your entrance, he confirms.

“Ready, love?” He presses a quick kiss to your lips. Keanu could be rough, animalistic, demandingly dominant when you wanted him to, however, much of the time, he was caring, gentle, and loving. He’d focus entirely on making you feel good, leaving his own needs second.

But right now wasn’t the time to be gentle.

“So ready.” You smile, bringing your hands to plant on his ass to urge him in. Slowly, gradually, he takes hold of his large, sizeably thick cock, guiding himself into you with one hard thrust.

Inch by inch, he’s big, beautiful, and warm. You simultaneously moan in unison, sighing in relief as he fills you whole, throbbing between your soaking walls. He halts once fully in, allowing you to adjust to him. No matter how many times you’d had him, you always needed a few moments to stretch, accommodating him.

Once primed, you nod your head, letting out a breathy exhale, nodding you head, urging him to thrust.

Rapidly moving his hips to the constrained time you both had, he makes sure to thrust up into you fully each time, slipping out entirely coated in your slickness, before plummeting back in. Rocking his hips perfectly, flawless, he hits the sensitive bundle of nerves in your mid each time, leaving wet kisses all over your skin, your breasts, your neck. He’s effortlessly gliding in and out of you, your slickness, sleekly coating his cock so wholly. The sound of his skin slapping yours fills the room, your nerves threatening to snap at how expertly he’s working you.

“Do you think there’s.....oh god.....fuck, Ke...” Stuttering, you stifle to finish your sentence with him bouncing you on his cock against the wall. “Cameras? In here?” you finally choke out, whimpering as his movements pick up pace, heaving breathy exhales.

His lips part slightly, barely managing to string a sentence together. “I.....don’t care, darling.......fuck... I won’t be able to stop when you feel this fucking...” his words cease as he sucks in a sharp breath, tensing his jaw & muscles. “This fucking tender, wet. You feel fucking amazing, sweetheart.”

You moan breathlessly against his skin, one of your arms wrapped around his neck, your other hand fixing on his shoulder, holding desperately as he thrusts hastily up in you. You’re sure you looked a hot mess, hair falling out of your perfectly fashioned ponytail, breasts hanging out of your half taken off bra with your bottoms sprawled on the floor, your boyfriend’s hands planted firm on your hips, holding you in place as he drills in and out of you.

“Ke. Fuck…oh Ke...” you moan as he moves out diligently, the sound of your wetness audible in the four walls of the restroom. You hate how much the sound of him sliding in and out turns you on, his skin slapping your skin so flamboyantly, knowing how good you’re making him feel. He lets out grunts and mumbles, muttering a few obscenities, watching his rock hard cock pump you firm.

With his movements bouncing your entire figure up and down, you looked just as deliciously lewd as any unkempt goddess. Each curve, each crease of your femininity, captivatingly ambrosial, a striking siren sending him spiraling out of reality.

With a particularly loud moan sauntering out of you, Keanu brings his fingers to your lips, gently inserting his index and middle fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, muffling your whines.

“Shhh baby, we gotta be quiet.” He rasps, as you bury your face in his chest, eyes threatening to burn at the feeling of complete paradise he’s channeling into you.

“I’m trying…” you moan, eyes snapped shut as his thrusts shake your entire body, your breasts bouncing beautifully to the rhythm he’s set.

“You’re fucking me so good, Ke. So fucking good.” You whimper through clenched teeth, hands holding onto him tighter now, the burn between your legs threatening to spill over any moment.

He lets out shallow, breathy moans laced with incoherent gasps as he slips himself in and out, lips chanting your name nonchalantly, calloused fingers digging into your hips, possibly brusing. He sucks in a sharp breath when you bring your hand down to toy, massaging his balls, knowing it helped send him over the edge.

Keanu fastens his eyes shut, resting his forehead against yours, as he thrusts in and out at an arduous pace. Groans and moans escape his mouth, his searing breath kissing your skin, so close. You twist your hand in his silky, dark locks again, pulling him closer. They’re damp with sweat, dripping almost at the ends, only turning you on more. You’re almost in astonishment at how well he’s pouring his might into you, each thrust so appreciative. You both breath heavily, lost in each other’s touch. Cradling the back of your neck, he shudders, while speaking.

“You knew I was watching you, didn’t you, sweetheart?” With his forehead still pressed against yours, the sweat lingering between your skin, pleasurable shocks sauntered your entire bodies, each coming closer to letting go completely. “Sticking your ass out like that for me to see, you knew exactly what you were doing, babygirl.”

With your nails grazing, raking across the dense, well-defined muscles on his back, you hum back.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

He lets out a particularly hefty grunt when you clench around him suddenly, your cunt tightening around his cock.

“You probably made every other guy in that room drool,” he groans, watching the way your eyes are shut, mouth slightly a gape as he rams in and out of you, leaving you flustered with each thrust. “But none of them get to fuck you like I do.” He declares, sucking a mark into the skin of your neck, as you rest against the wall, sinful looking.

With a whine, you buck your hips forward, into him greater. Your lips drop tongue tied, muddled whispers, “deeper, more Ke, more”, you send him gulping with shock waves of delectation growing through his body.

“Harder, baby, please, I’m so close.”

“Harder, princess?” his is voice deep, groaning, pouring more of himself into you now, briskly. He opens his eyes to see you, your eyes still closed, flustered, taking in shallow, moany breaths. Every now and then, a gasp of complete pleasure and inclination leaves your rosy lips, as his hands explore each part of your body, pouring heaps of affection. Your skin is glowing, glimmering with sweat as he rocks you, his own face glistening under the twinkling pot lights of the restroom.

He’s burying himself gaping, deep, profound inside, fully, each time, you feel him twitch and throb immensely now, knowing he’s nearing completion. You silently admire his figure, each feature, thanking the universe for allowing him to be yours.

As he brings his finger down to toy with your clit, knowing it’d snap the last nerve, Keanu presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, speaking. “I want you to let go for me, sweetheart. Come all over my cock.”

His deep, intense voice is enough to help send you over the edge, paired delightfully with the feel of his thumb circling your clit, each vein in his hefty erection providing more and more pressure as you feel yourself clenching around his girthy cock, practically screaming into the skin of his chest. In an instant, you wail out a cry into his chest, trying to muffle the sound so patrons of the club wouldn’t hear, as your orgasm consumes you whole.

Without Keanu’s resilient arms holding your frame tight, you swore you would have collapsed. Your body falls dainty and flimsy, still panting in attempts to come down from your ethereal high. He pumps in and out of you still through your climax, as his own approaches.

“I’m…I’m gonna… fuck, I’m gonna cum, babe.” he whispers against your hair. You begin the feel yourself oversensitive, huffing and puffing as you lean your head back on the wall, watching his eyes roll back as his end is near.

Jerking his hips rapidly, he shudders with his cock twitching, his damp hair falls in his face as he releases. Within an instance, his cock is shooting his creamy, heavy load deep, deep inside you, resting as all his seed spills out into you. His head finds comfort, your breasts providing him a safe haven as you bring your hands to wrap around his head, massaging his scalp gently as he collects himself.

Chest rising and falling heavily, both your breaths struggling to return to normal pace, Keanu wraps his arms tighter around you now, his cock still buried inside you, as his head rests on top of yours, fingers stroking your hair comfortingly as you snap back into reality. Pulling your gaze up to stare at him, you both giggle once your eyes lock.

“You alright, love?” he inquires, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Of course. Fuck, that was fun.” You chuckle quietly, resting your hands on his shoulders. He looks divine, so perfectly gorgeous, skin flushed a light shade of patchy pink, sweat beads glistening, peppering his pale skin. His gray muscle shirt has erupted darker patches of sweat now, the action you both had just endured much greater of a workout than anything you did outside.

Slowly, cautiously, Keanu pulls himself out of you, his cock dropping flaccid, hot and heavy against his thigh. You kiss him quick, before pulling your tights back up your legs. “But we need to get out of here, quick before anyone sees.”

He runs a shaky hand through his tangle of locks, catching his breath. With collection of a few spare paper towels, he wipes himself off, handing you a few to follow suit.

A chuckle bypasses his lips, as he gathers himself back into his sweats. You lick your lips watching him store away his length, baffled still, at the thought of that monstrosity of a cock attaining to fit inside you.

“Fuck, you never fail to make me weak. 3 squats in and you had me throbbing in my pants.” He helps you pull your bra back down over your breasts, tucking them perfectly back into the fabric. He finishes by placing a kiss to the valley of your chest, bringing your hand up to lace with his.

Soothing your hands over your outfit one last time, making sure everything was in place, you inquire.

“Do I look okay? Can you tell I just got fucked senseless in the bathroom by my boyfriend or…?”

Keanu lets out a louder than intended laugh, bringing your palm up to kiss. “You look perfect, sweetheart. Do I look…collected?” he asks in return.

You giggle, cupping his cheek. “Handsome as ever.”

The doorknob turns open with a creek, as you poke your head out, checking the coast. When all seems clear, you tug gently on Keanu’s hand, urging him to come out with you. Walking casually, you keep an eye out, hoping you weren’t in there for too long.

Much to your dismay, a gym employee catches glimpse of you both hand in hand, rushing out of the washroom, looks of flushed, rosy skin glistening as if you’d just endured an intense cardio session.

“Excuse me sir, why were you both in there together?” he questions, staring you down, as you both continue to trek towards the exit doors.

“My girlfriend needed help with her zipper.” Keanu replies unconcernedly, as you lead him to the end of the exit.

The gym keeper diverts his gaze in confusion, returning to organizing the equipment at hand,

before realizing, much to his shock,

That Y/N wore a simple outfit of tights and a sports bra,

With no zipper

in sight.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

A/N : okay maybe not my best piece, but I hope it was alright 🖤

Taglist Posted Separately (Ask to be added or removed!) :

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves oneshot #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves imagines #keanu reeves smut #keanu reeves story #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fluff #keanu reeves fic #keanu reeves ff #keanu reeves x y/n

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bisquett · 5 years

Text

Help Me Feel Good (J.W.)

this is a jeff smut i have daydreamed during a train journey. wish my inner hoe jumped out in this but sadly only the helpless romantic showed up. hope you enjoy -💙

Your hands were shaking as you pulled the t-shirt over your head, well aware that your every move was being intently watched.

It was a bit baffling how you found yourself in this situation. As during your usual bickering a few weeks ago you, rather sarcastically, thrown in a suggestion for a date since he ‘couldn’t stop going on about anything you do’, you expected him to laugh with you and respond with some equally snarky comment. What you didn’t expect was Jeff’s serious face and soft eyes, and almost indiscernible hesitance in a question on whether you’d rather go out for a coffee first or you’d prefer a cookout in his humble abode. Not so slightly taken aback and with your mind racing, you agreed to the latter. And somehow you would agree to many more later on.

Your first kiss happened in your apartment. You got up from the table to put the plates into the sink after yet another dinner date, this time prepared by you. When you turned around, your face almost made sharp contact with Jeff’s chest but he caught you just in time. Your eyes met and then his hand was on your cheek and his lips on yours, gentle, exploring your mouth for the first time. The new, more intimate connection you now had made your brain melt and knees weak, with your heart pounding in your chest. And every other innocently stolen kiss after that one made you feel the same way.

So now you were sitting in Jeff’s lap in just your leggings and sports bra and you couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath. You wanted it, all those past date nights spent at either Jeff’s or your house, or cruising through asleep LA, or watching the sunset by the beach, as well as all the stolen kisses, made the flames of desire for the man grow bigger and bigger and now you knew you were ready for them to finally take over. But despite all this, you were anxious, as one would be before getting intimate with a new person. To your disadvantage, the shaky breath didn’t go unnoticed, your nerves so visible they were almost tangible.

‘Are you sure you want to keep going?’ he asked to which you quickly nodded. However your body language didn’t want to follow the intentions of your mind, so Jeff wasn’t buying your reassurance.

‘Look, you’re visibly uneasy and I don’t wanna keep on doing something that’s making you feel this way, I-’ he started but his words were cut off by your hand covering his mouth. When you were sure he was done, you moved both of your hands to his cheeks.

‘Jeff. I’m shy. I’m nervous,’ you made sure to look deep into his eyes. You wanted to confirm everything you were saying, especially that his gaze was doing just the same. ‘Sex with a new person is always nerve wracking. But I want this and I know I gotta wait and just let the nerves pass and later on I will enjoy it,’ you flashed him a gentle smile. ‘So please, let’s not stop. All I can ask you for is to help me feel good and relaxed,’ you said the last part in quiet yet sultry voice, leaning in slightly with your eyes now jumping from Jeff’s to his lips. You waited until he nodded, confirming that he understood, before kissing him gently. The kiss was sweet and simple and conveyed all the feelings you both had for each other right in that moment.

Neither of you felt like pulling away though, so your mouths eventually found their rhythm, steady and passionate. A shiver ran through your body as you felt Jeff’s fingertips ghosting over your bare spine, barely touching and moving up and down until they stopped to run along the band of your bra. At that, you pulled away and put your arms up to give Jeff access to take it off. You felt vulnerable again, especially that he was still fully clothed, yet his soft eyes brought you peace once again, the feelings vanishing as you felt his hand cup your cheek and bring you into another kiss, while your bodies turned so that now you were laying on your back, Jeff hovering over you. Your hand sneaked over his stomach, feeling the outline of his abs before slipping under the clothing and running over the bare skin. Your actions prompted the man to sit up slightly and pull the t-shirt all the way off. He then proceeded to get rid of the rest of your clothing, hastly urging you to lift your hips so he could pull the leggings off, subsequently bringing his own pants to his ankles and then throwing them haphazardly across the room.

Jeff’s eyes seemed like they were trying to take your whole body in all at once. His large hands cupped your sides and started moving up and down, his thumbs reaching out to flick your nipples. The action caused your eyes to slip shut as you released a small sigh, and they didn’t open when you felt Jeff’s warm tongue and rough beard start to caress your neck. You were so lost in all the sensations that you didn’t see his hand sneak down into your underwear, and became aware of it only when you felt a gentle but firm touch on your clit. You gasped slightly but let yourself get lost in the feeling for a moment, focusing on his hand moving in steady rhythm. However, you were unaware that meanwhile Jeff was studying your face in awe, the little frown of pleasure that formed between you brows seemed to be the most mesmerizing and beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He couldn’t comprehend how someone so stunning, so strong was agreeing to fall apart underneath him and on his command, and that notion made his mind cloudy and desire grow.

He was brought back from his thoughts when you decided to return the favor. Jeff felt your gentle hand move down his abdomen and wrap around him, starting to stroke him slowly. His eyes shot up to yours connecting for a moment before his eyes closed and he lowered his head down into the crook of your neck. You spent a few moments like this, both of you eliciting quiet moans and whimpers from each other, lost in the pleasure. But when his two fingers slipped into you, you felt like you couldn’t take the teasing anymore. Your fingers wrapped around his hair and pulled a little so that you could look at him. ‘Jeff, please…’ you whimpered with your lips touching his. One look at your face was enough for him to pull away, quickly get rid of both of your underwears before coming back to pull your legs apart and slowly push into you.

Your mouth opened at the sensation and you hand shot up to grip his biceps. He waited for a moment before he started to very slowly move his hips against you. He moved his arm on which your hand was clasped so that he could take your palm in his and intertwine your fingers. Neither of you could deny that you craved the intimacy in the moment. Both of you knew that this isn’t just some random hookup and both of you wanted to express those feelings. So you squeezed his hand every time his thrust felt particularly good and he’d do the same when he felt you clench around him. Jeff moved his head down to leave kisses on your neck again and you brought one of your legs around his hip so as to guide him to move a little bit faster. He sped up, biting on the skin above your collarbone, drawing out a whine out of you in the process. He moved up to look at you again. ‘Does that feel good?’ he asked, while getting lost in your eyes, his movements now slow and deep. You nodded and whispered a ‘yes’, before you pulled him into a kiss. His hips almost stilled now as you kissed lazily and deeply, tongue on tongue, your hand in his hair, his hand caressing your side, your hip, your thigh.

You broke the kiss and looked at him. ‘Sit,’ you urged him. When Jeff made himself comfortable against the headboard, you climbed onto his lap. You wrapped your hands around his neck and twirled the ends of his hair around your fingers as you slowly slipped down on him. His eyes flew shut immediately at the contact and his hands tightened on your waist. You maintained your unhurried movements and watched Jeff’s beautiful face. You admired his parted lips and long eyelashes, and the way his jaw muscles tensed when the roll of your hips felt particularly good. He opened his eyes as you bent to the back, resting your hands on his legs. It was your turn to close your eyes and get lost in the pleasure. Jeff had a front row view of your entire body and your face, with bottom lip drawn in between your teeth, that looked like you forgot about the whole damn world. He decided to remind you of his presence and thrust his hips upwards into you. At that, your mouth dropped open and you let out a drawn out moan that was repeated every time he found that spot inside of you again. If it was up to Jeff, he’d already have you on all fours to make sure he’d get that sound out of you with every move of his hips. But he knew it was not the right moment and the intimacy was key right now. Nevertheless, he wanted to hear these moans for the rest of his life. He felt completely intoxicated.

The waves of pleasure inside of you intensified and you brought your hands back around Jeff, this time wrapping around his whole body, pulling him as close as possible. You lightly bit into his skin where shoulder met with neck to quiet down your moans that where non stop now, as he kept thrusting into you and you sped your movements as well. He kept you close too, holding onto you, as if he was afraid you’d slip away, and was now audibly whimpering into your ear. ‘Y/n,’ he panted, ‘you make me feel so fucking good,’ he managed to breathe out, and proceeded to run his tongue over your neck and squeeze your butt. You let out a short yelp at that and tangled your hand in his hair, pulling hard. ‘Please Jeff,’ you cried out. ‘I’m so close, oh my god, please!’.

He grunted and pushed you so that you were laying on your back again, his hand reaching for one of your legs to bend it and pull it up to your chest. He wasted no time as he continued to thrust into you, this time as fast as he could. Your moans where spilling uncontrollably, your mind so clouded you could only mumble and repeat his name with your nails digging into his back and the leg that wasn’t held by Jeff wrapped around his hip. He didn’t hold back his grunts now either, he didn’t care, as he desperately did everything to bring both of you to your peaks. ‘Come on, baby girl. I know you’ve got it in you. Come on, y/n, let go for me’. You didn’t know if it was his words or his hand that went down to move on your clit in quick circles, or his face pained from the feelings, or the whimpers he let out into your ear, but it was enough for you to let go and come around him with a cry, all your limbs clutched tightly around him. He followed right after, his head hiding into your neck and his hand pinning your hips hard into the bed.

You stayed unmoving, wrapped around each other for a few moments, trying to catch your breaths. Your mind was still unclear from your orgasm and you had a hard time comprehending what had just happened but you knew one thing – you wanted it to happen again. You knew you wanted to feel him this close again when his eyes finally found yours and he left a small kiss on your lips. You knew you wanted the dates to keep happening when he pulled away and moved on the bed so that the two of you could comfortably cuddle. You knew there was a special spark, connection, you name it, between the two of you that you hadn’t felt with anyone else in a long while when you closed your eyes and focused on his hand slightly caressing your back up and down. And at the time you couldn’t have known, but there were similar thoughts running through Jeff’s mind. One thing he was sure of, as he felt your warm body next to him – he was not going anywhere. And luckily, you weren’t planning to either.

#blueheart #jeff wittek #jeff wittek x reader #david dobrik #vlog squad #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek smut #submission #THIS WAS SOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOD!!!#i did not write this masterpiece

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dylan-o-yumm · 5 years

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Dante request.. uh, you did some nero in heat stuff awhile ago... what would dante be like... if you’d like to answer

Warning! This is my first Dante request and also my first Dante smut, so I apologise if he is a bit OOC or something. (Is he in heat, or is he just wicked horny? We will never know…)

“Dante, calm down! We’re not exactly alone right now” You hiss quietly, elbowing the kin of Sparda in the ribs as an attempt to get him away from you while you eye everyone around you suspiciously. Trish, Lady, Nero and Vergil are all in the room with you, doing their own things as you try to push Dante off of you. However, you can’t seem to stop him from curling his arms around your waist from behind, enveloping your smaller frame with his biceps while he shamelessly grinds his manhood into the curve of your backside.

You know it isn’t the best of times for Dante right now, since he’s coming up on his mating season, but you’d think he’d be able to control himself a little more, especially when there are other people present. You couldn’t lie though, feeling his impressive length rub against your ass was getting you a little riled up, filling your mind with all the dirty things you want him to do to you. You hated to admit it, but you wished everyone would just leave so you could hurry up and get exactly what Dante wanted from you. And what you so kindly wanted to give to him.

“C’mon, babe. Let’s sneak away for a bit.” Dante leans down to whisper seductively in your ear, a slight rumble sounding deep in his chest when he speaks. It sends shivers down your spine and makes goosebumps rise along your arms. He continues to roll his hips against yours, seeming uncaring of the other people in the room while his lips capture the lobe of your ear. He sucks before slowly sinking his teeth in, applying more and more pressure by the second.

You’re not exactly worried about the others looking over and seeing a desperately horny Dante, since he was always all over you anyway, no stranger to PDA. However, you are a little worried that with his urges getting more and more uncontrollable, he’d end up tearing both your clothes off and taking you right there in front of everyone. Sure, it would get everyone to leave right away, but you didn’t exactly want your friends, especially Vergil, to see you naked and a moaning mess for the pizza lover.

“You smell so good, I just wanna eat you up” He growls with slight distortion in his tone, meaning his devilish side was beginning to break through. You bite your lip to keep from making any inappropriate noises, his own scent and touch doing things to you, making you lose your mind a little. It doesn’t look like your friends will be leaving any time soon, so perhaps sneaking away was the best option.

“We can go to my place, if you can hold off for a little while longer?”

“Yeah. Yep, let’s do that. Get in the car, now” Dante peels himself off of you quickly, settling for grabbing your hand forcefully and pulling you towards the door. He doesn’t say anything to anyone, probably to keep from showing the bulge in his pants as he pushes the front door open and walks out. You yank his hand a little so you can stop and say goodbye to everyone, using the excuse that you’re exhausted and Dante is just taking you home.

You’re pretty sure all of them know exactly whats going on, but you’re thankful no one brings it up.

“I’m driving. I don’t trust you not to crash when you’re like this” You declare as you pinch the keys out of his hand that he had just pulled from his pocket, slipping into the drivers seat quickly so Dante can’t argue. You sigh as you sit down and close the door beside you, waiting until Dante slips in the passenger side with a pout on his face.

He spreads his legs and places one hand over his bulge while the other hand reaches for your thigh. You glance at him with raised eyebrows and he smiles a shit eating grin, pinching your inner thigh before trailing his hand upwards a little. You quickly slap your hand over his, stopping him from going any higher as you stare him right in his lust filled eyes.

“Keep your hands to yourself until we get to my place, or you’ll be using nothing but your hand to get yourself off for the extent of your mating season” You smile sweetly, watching as Dante’s grin dies down back into a pout.

“Damn, babe. Who knew you could be so evil.”

~*~

Dante managed to keep his hands to himself but you did feel a little bad since his leg wouldn’t stop bouncing and he kept adjusting his pants the entire trip to your place. You knew his “heat” or “mating season” was pretty tough on him some times and he couldn’t always quite control it, especially around you, but you were thankful he wasn’t the type to get possessive and aggressive when you were around other people though.

“C’mon, you sexy devil. Get inside then we can mess around” You laugh as his hands slip around to grab your breasts while you fumble with the keys to open your front door. He was pressed up against your backside once again, lips sucking and kissing your neck both softly and roughly. He liked to lead a trail of soft kisses up the side of your neck then come back down with rough sucks that were sure to have your skin nice and purple by tomorrow.

By the time you got the door open, Dante didn’t waste any time. He practically pushed you inside while he shrugged off his coat and dumped it on the floor, too occupied in grabbing you and pulling you in for a hot kiss. His stubble burned along your cheek but you loved it, pressing yourself against him even more to the point where your lips were throbbing against his, becoming swollen quickly from the intensity of the kiss.

His large hands came around to squeeze and kneed your ass while he led you backwards, causing you to stumble into a wall. He pinned you easily, pressing his chest against yours while one hand continued to firmly grip your ass and the other snuck around to the front. His fingers toyed with the band of your pants for a few seconds before he finally slipped the item of clothing down your legs effortlessly.

“Damn, you smell delicious. Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my hands off of you in the car?” Dante all but purred in your ear as his hand snapped your the band of your panties against your hip, causing you to bite your lip from the slight sting it caused.

“Well, sorry I didn’t want to crash and die” You breathed heavily, trying to sound bratty and sassy but your voice betrayed you.

“What’s done is done, I’m just glad I get to finally do this…” Dante trailed off as his hand raised in front of your face. You watched as his digits became darker and longer, his nails growing into sharp points as the palm of his hand looked rough and armoured. It was odd seeing just his hand change while the rest of him was still human, but it didn’t stop you from sucking in a sharp breath as you felt one long claw slide down the side of your neck.

He applied more pressure as he slid it further down, clipping the collar of your shirt and tearing the fabric as he went down, between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and over your navel. Your shirt split directly through the middle, falling open to reveal your bra and the now red line his claw left behind on your skin.

“And this…” he added before leaning forward to capture your lips with his own. You shrugged your now ruined shirt off and let it fall to the floor as Dante’s tongue invaded your mouth, sliding over your teeth and prodding at your tongue. Both his hands came to your chest, squeezing and massaging your breasts while he rutted against your thigh. It was now that you realised both his hand was fleshy and human again.

“Mmm… Dante…” You moaned against his mouth, fisting his shirt in your hands and arching your chest into his touch. He growled like a wild animal as he cupped your bra in his hands and ripped it completely off your body, tossing the item behind him like it was nothing. You wanted to pout since you loved that bra and now it was ruined, but his fingers quickly coming to pinch and roll your nipples into hard buds made you completely forget about it.

You make a move to grab his shirt, wanting to tear it off him but one of his hands sneak down your body and into your panties, causing you to shudder and forget what you were wanting to do. He takes a moment to look down your form, biting his lip with a cocky smirk on his face while he watches your chest heave and your hips press into his palm. You want to smack that look off of his face but his middle and index fingers find your clit, applying pressure and making your knees grow weak as you lose all the ability to think properly.

“I love when you get like this. You can hardly speak, can’t you?” Dante chuckles, his voice slightly distorted. His fingers circle your bundle of nerves a few times, in time with the massaging and pinching of his other hand on your breast, before he slips his digits down further, collecting your wetness and smearing it all over your heat.

“F-fuck off, Dante” You whimper, closing your eyes briefly to regain some composure. You hate and love how effortlessly Dante turns your brain to mush whenever he’s like this with you.

“But we’re just getting to the good part, babygirl” The devil hunter grins as he pushes his two fingers into your soaking, wet heat, burying them as far as he can before curling them just right. You moan at both the feeling of his expert hands and the nickname he gave you, curling your toes and gripping Dante’s shirt so tight your knuckles almost turn white.

You slide a hand down his clothed chest, feeling every curve and dip of his muscles and defined abs, but you didn’t stop there. You keep going down until your palm brushes against the large bulge of his pants, hearing him sigh as he closes his eyes. His fingers still inside you as you stroke his clothed erection, usually he wasn’t so sensitive but maybe since his heat was coming up, he wasn’t able to control himself.

You watch his face, the way his eyes shut for a moment, only to open back up with a new look of hunger, dominance and power. His lips are parted and hot breaths fan over your face as he pants loudly, getting lost in his demonic urges. Suddenly his fingers start moving inside you again, but this time faster and harder. His palm presses against your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you at a brutal pace.

“D-Dante!” You squeal as your legs clamp around his hand, feeling your orgasm quickly approaching as his fingers brush your g-spot over and over again. He sounds like he’s growling as he leans forward to suck on the flesh of your neck, trailing down to your breasts to bite, lick and suck your sensitive nipples.

“That’s enough foreplay, I can’t wait any longer. Sorry, babe” Dante huffed against your chest. You knew that that was his way of warning you he was about to stop what he was doing, but it didn’t stop you from whining and pouting when he pulled his hand out of your panties. So close to your release, yet so far.

With hooded eyes, you watch as Dante pulls his slick covered hand up to his face, licking his lips as he stares at your fluids dripping down his fingers. You breathe heavily, slowly calming down and stepping away from the edge of your orgasm as your walls throb and clench, desperately wanting to pulse around something thicker than his fingers.

Dante’s crystal blue eyes meet yours, a devilish smile appearing on his face as he brings his hand closer and closer to his mouth. You unknowingly hold your breath as you watch him suck his wet fingers into his mouth, wrapping his lips around his digits and slurping on them. You practically see his eyes darken, his pupils expanding at the taste of you on his tongue.

“Dessert before dinner” He winks as he takes his fingers out of his mouth and grabs your jaw with his now spit covered fingers. He pinches your cheeks a little, causing you to open your mouth slightly before he leans in. He doesn’t kiss you, instead he sticks his tongue out and licks your open mouth, as if wanting you to taste yourself on him. And you definitely can. He slips his tongue inside your mouth for a brief second, making sure you really get a taste, while also making you whine that he isn’t properly kissing you. It’s like he likes to make you crave every little thing.

You thought you were going to fall asleep with how heavy your eyelids felt, but Dante likes to keep you on your toes. Or, off your toes for that matter. You have no time to respond as he kicks your legs out from under you, catching you effortlessly and lowing himself to the floor with you. Your back presses against the cold floor and you have to chuckle at the fact that you’re only a foot away from the front door, clearly unable to keep your hands off of each other long enough to get to the bedroom.

Dante pushes himself up onto his knees after giving you a surprisingly sweet kiss, giving you what you wanted but only for a brief moment, which makes you crave his sweet kisses even more. You can’t help but giggle as you watch him literally tear his shirt off of his torso which makes him poke his tongue out at you as you snort. He throws the now shredded shirt god knows where before looking down at you as he rubs his hands up and down your thighs.

“Hey I tore yours, it’s only fair I tear mine too” He shrugs with a grin as he comes back down to lie on top of you. Your hands instinctively go straight into his hair, tangling your fingers in the silver strands. “Don’t hurt me, but I’m going to ruin your cute little panties too” Dante grins as his hands grip either side of your panties and rip until the fabric falls of your body.

“Hey! Y’know you could just slide them down my legs like a normal person” You huff, tugging on his hair as a means to hurt him, but he just groans as his eyes roll back, clearly loving the feeling of you tug his hair. You shake your head and chuckle, deciding to give in and tug some more just to see him have that same reaction again.

“One, I’m not a normal person. Two, whats the fun in that?” Dante asks with a dopey smile.

“Oh, shut up and fuck me, lover boy” You tease, pulling him closer to you.

“Yes, ma’am” Dante smirks, rolling over to lie beside you on his back so he can take his pants off. You watch as he wriggles out of them and tosses them over to where his shirt apparently landed, then rolls back on top of you, grabbing your thighs and propping them up on his hips. You wrap your legs around his waist and cross your feet, digging your heels into his butt to hurry him up, feeling needy beyond repair at the moment.

Dante grabs his hard member with one hand and gives it a few quick strokes before lining up at your entrance, teasing your hole with the tip. You can feel his precum smear on your heat, mixing with your slick and causing you to bite your lip in anticipation.

He tries to be gentle, you can tell, but the urges must be too much for him to be able to control himself as he abruptly thrusts fast and hard into you, bottoming out immediately. You cry out and hiss in pain, but that pain quickly turns into pleasure as Dante starts rubbing your clit with two fingers, soothing the pain away so he can slowly move his hips without hurting you again. You figure he can’t control himself enough, along with his demonic side, to be still inside you while he waits for you to adjust to his size, usually you’d be mad but this is the only time, what with his mating season and all, that you’ll let it slide.

He hisses and lets out a deep breath, clearly struggling to be gentle at the moment. He’s so thick and long, that even if he went slow with you, there was sure to be a little bit of pain no matter what. Your nails scratch down his back as he begins rolling his hips, angling his hips at just the right angle to hit your sweet spot over and over again. It definitely helps with soothing and replacing the pain with pleasure.

“Oh, god. Don’t stop…” You moan into Dante’s ear, holding him close as he snaps his hips faster and faster. Your walls clench around him, wanting to pull him deeper inside you, trying to swallow him while you roll your hips up to try and meet his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the house along with the sound of your moans and Dante’s deep growls and huffs. He’s like a dragon, with his hot breath fanning over your neck and face as he pants.

Dante rubs circles on your clit, causing your legs to shake as he times his fingers with his thrusts. You look down and see the bulge of his cock protruding trough your stomach, both disturbing you and turning you on even more. It felt amazing, having him so deep inside of you that you could see the head of his cock pressing against your insides from the outside.

“I’m almost there, babygirl. Think you can hold on a little longer?” Dante growls in your ear, his voice completely distorted now. This wasn’t your Dante talking, it was his inner demon. You were honestly shocked he hadn’t devil triggered by now, since every other mating season you had been with him for, had resulted in him fucking you while in his demonic form. Not that you minded all too much, he could easily pleasure you in either form.

“I’m almost… I’m close too” You pant, holding him and digging your nails into his back. His hands hold your hips, keeping you from wriggling around too much as he pulls all the way out, only to slam back in. He repeats this a few more times until you’re screaming his name over and over in time with the snap of his hips.

Suddenly, he’s pulling you up with him and rolling you over onto your hands and knees as he kneels behind you, cock having never left you as he moves you around. Your face presses into the cold ground while your hips are held up in the air by Dante’s large hands. The new angle causes him to press impossibly deep inside you, making your cheek sting from scraping against the floor from his harsh thrusts pushing you, but you don’t have the ability to care at the moment.

A hand comes up to your face, pressing against your head and pushing you into the floor to keep you still. You look behind you as best you can without moving your face, watching Dante struggle not to transform while he’s inside of you. You can see the fire in his eyes, the usual cold blue now a hot and terrifying red, but it doesn’t scare you in the slightest.

You’re sure you’re scratching the floor to the point were you’re making marks but again… you can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’re also sure your face is covered in sweat and dusted in a deep pink shade. You can feel Dante’s hands transforming from human to rough, scaled demonic armour, pressing against the side of your face, only to turn back into human. Over and over, like he’s battling himself.

You have to admire how much control he’s managing to keep this time around. Last time Dante was going through his mating season, he triggered almost immediately.

“Cum for me, babe” Dante grunts, leaning down to press his chest flat against your back so that he can sink his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder. The pain sends you over the edge, causing you to cry out a loud moan as your legs shake from your intense orgasm. Your walls spasm around him, locking him inside you until you grow weak and can’t tense your muscles any longer.

Dante repeats the same actions from earlier, pulling all the way out to slam back in violently, causing you to shudder and shake from overstimulation. You keep a tight grip on his forearm, curling your arms around to grip the arm pinning your face down. You’d be certain you were making him bleed from digging your nails into his skin if it weren’t for his superhuman healing ability.

He lasts about an extra minute before his hips stutter and he stills inside you, throbbing angrily as he shoots white hot ropes of his seed deep inside you, coating your inner walls. You watch as he transforms completely now, his whole body turning into his demon form. Though you expected it at some point, you can’t help but cry out from the added length and girth from his cock as he transforms while he’s still inside of your sensitive heat.

His large wings knock into the wall and scratch the floor. Theres an added heat radiating off of his body as his once soft skin now feels hard and armoured. You take a look at what his wings are doing, noticing one twitching oddly from the corner of your eye, only to find it half embedded into the wall. He looks up also, sighing as he shakes his wing to try and free himself.

“Shit. Sorry, I’ll fix that.” You can’t help but laugh at the big scary demon hovering you while panicking over a broken wall. You tap his arm, not trusting your voice to tell him to move at the moment since all your shouts and crying out had made your throat sore. He takes the hint, peeling his large hand off the side of your face and slowly pulling out of you, which makes you whimper from both the loss of contact and the feeling of his large member sliding against your sensitive walls.

You roll over onto your back again, staring up at the big, fiery demon before you with a dopey smile. You can’t tell his expression but the way he’s breathing makes you wonder if he’s just tired or if he’s ready for more, but either way your human body needs a little bit of rest. Your hand reaches out to brush along his sharp jaw, feeling his heat seep into your palm and warm your entire body, even more than you already were from your previous activities.

You look down your body to see a whole bunch of little red and purple marks that he had left behind from either his hands or mouth, surprised you didn’t notice him marking you earlier. Looking back up at him, you pull him forward, having to push yourself up a little bit to meet him half way as he bows his head for you. Your lips make contact with his forehead and the immediate reaction you hear from him is a deep purr from his chest.

“I hope you’re ready for round two. My demon isn’t exactly fully satisfied.”

(This was meant to be Dante in heat but I feel like it’s just a regular Dante smut???)

#dante #Dante x reader #Dante imagine #Dante smut #Dante dmc #dmc imagine #dmc x reader #Dante sparda #Dante sparda x reader #Dante sparda imagine #Dante devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dmc smut #Dante in heat #mating season

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