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fillinforlater · 8 months

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Pink Sheets of the Gangbang Queen

Male Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 1759 words

Tags: post-gangbang-unclarity, a fuckton of cum, the biggest creampies you can imagine, sluttiest_woman_ever!Gaeul, riding, reverse cowgirl, mating press, cumming again, surprisingly sweet

TW: nasty, a lot of cum by different people

Credit: @friskyriskywhisky had the idea and wrote most of it, I just expanded it as far as I could. Maybe there will be more Gangbang Queen stuff, but this was basically just a double BFH lol

(A/N: Have fun with this crazy, short piece!)

“I want one more…”

Gaeul lies on her nasty bed, which is not only the size of a New York apartment room but also a lot more comfortable. The fresh evidence of sin is all over the once royal pink bedsheet befitting of a princess, a queen to be more accurate. Her comically large pillow is full of wet fingerprints, there are even hints of Gaeul bending over it because she loves it when men penetrate her from behind and fuck her into the soft thing. The headboard and the walls nearby are all smeared with her own slick and the cum from the dozen of guys who unloaded a week's worth and then some for her, on her, because of her. Who knows how much genetic coding is now dripping down those walls, or the side of her bed or along her thighs.

Either way, Gaeul knows that the pungent creampie of hers only feels this good because at least ten horny men put their spunk deep into her cunt. Be it fat cocks, long ones, small, smelly, oddly shaped—Gaeul takes them all and her insides shape to each accordingly. For the horde of cocks it’s an incredible feeling with a surprising snugness, while Gaeul yearns and shouts (as long as there is no shaft testing her gag reflex) for them to finish quickly and deep. Though a marvelous feeling, she is never satisfied. She needs one more, she doesn’t even care if it’s the tiniest rest or a gigantic, creamy load—all that matters is that he cums inside her.

Gaeul’s once-animated and sex-crazed sexual partners have either left or completely passed out on the floor next to her bed—except lucky you, the only one lying naked next to her. Lucky you, who she now eyes, admiring your features while you're half asleep. She crawls over and gently flips you onto your back, stirring you awake in the process.

In your state of extreme grogginess, you aren't able to tell at first if you're being eaten alive or attacked by a savage animal. Just when your fight or flight response springs into action, a pair of lips press against yours. They instantly calm you down like a mothers embrace after a lucid nightmare. You can't help but smile unconsciously at how gentle it feels. Gaeul’s floral-scented shampoo reassures you who's currently kissing you, her touchy, wet and tender fingers reminding you of the first time she checked out your body…

It was a rainy night in one of the many underground bars in Seoul—the type of bar that makes you raise an eyebrow at first, someone with connections has recommended it, looks suspicious; then you fell into the trap of fun conversations and nice liquor that ultimately led to a selection ceremony. This was the moment you realized why this was not a commonly visited place.

Everyone went silent at her entry. Gaeul, the well-known (at least for most people that regularly visit these exclusive bars) gangbang queen was craving men tonight, many men. She was not picky, in fact, there was only one condition you had to fulfill:

“Three days worth of cum. If you had sex or jerked off during the last three days, you’re out for tonight.”

No one dared to defy her or lie to her. She diligently checked everyone’s balls and was extremely thorough, especially with you, who she gently pushed against a bar stool, hand past your waistband. Your breath hitched, hers too when her slender fingers caressed your balls.

“Tall, horny—and at least ten days of cum.

“I’d love for you to join the after party in my pink bed.”

That’s how Gaeul found you, touched you, lured you in and turned you on, like she does at this moment…

It's been minutes now, with no signs of stopping or letting go from Gaeul, her lips still fully attached to yours just to occasionally back off and peck at it again. The last remnants of a dream that could never match this disappear. They are replaced by memories that slowly creep back and your heart drops. You remember what happened not long ago, right on these pink sheets—don’t lie to yourself, you know it happens every other night.

Those soft lips of hers were satisfying other men not too long ago, fully enveloped around shafts of different shapes and sizes. That tongue of hers glided across the cockhead of multiple partners and made sure that no spot on their balls was left out. She would fill her mouth with as much manly musk and precum as she could before her throat was getting assaulted by who knows how many cocks, endlessly coating the back of it with thick cum and forcing her to gag and cry, which everyone knows is a huge turn on for the gangbang queen.

It’s those lips that form a seal around yours and it’s that mouth you attack lazily with your tongue.

Who are you to complain though? Gaeul is the greatest kisser your lips have ever met. Your obsession with her took control of your life even though you had no chance with her. You're just a nobody when Gaeul is the well-beloved queen. The gangbang queen - for those close enough to be her little circle filled with lust and desire. Yet somehow you saw a chance and took it, even if it means taking sloppy seconds (or thirds? Fifths? Wait, how many guys are here again?).

Your mind snaps back to the present when you feel your cock poking at her entrance. Hang on, did she even—fuck! You shiver in both pleasure and disgust. You're plunged into her sloppy cunt, extremely tight, even after being abused by multiple men (some girthier than the ridiculous sex toys she has in her collection).

Gaeul’s walls hug your tip first, then slowly adjust to your size, like they have become your personal sexy toy. The pleasure really kicks in when the gangbang queen puts your hands on her hips and adds your name into the mixture of huffs and moans. Her incredibly damp cavern and how slippery her whole crotch is against your own, it displays a reality you don't want to admit: You're fucking Gaeul through the creampie of other men. Using the foreign substance as a sticky wannabe lube as you slowly ramp up your pace, you're thinking with your other head only; that’s not an uncommon occurrence with the gangbang queen around.

Sex with her has you drunk, dazed, carelessly chasing your own high. You want to be the only one to have your load inside of her cunt. Gaeul yearns for breeding, and the sperm of all the other disgusting men, still unconscious in this room is deemed not enough. At this moment you decide to fuck the creampie out of her and replace it with your own.

You're frantically thrusting in and out of her, she replicates your passion as she rides you. Heaps of old cum get forced out with the assistance of gravity but mainly due to the pump that is your cock and the endless pumping into her cunt. Gaeul switches to a reverse cowgirl position and it's only now that you notice that her ass got absolutely filled as well.

This should not be a surprise, she is the gangbang queen after all, yet you want to look away. This is exclusively other men's cum leaking out of Gaeul and onto your abs. It feels extremely wrong, fucking filthy and somewhat gross. The eagerness of the girl on your dick makes you forget that though. For a short while, you just admire her back, her small, shapely ass and the way her moans are in perfect harmony with the sound of flesh hitting flesh and cum being squeezed out.

With your whole cock still buried inside her, bottoming her out, you two clumsily get into a mating press position. Gaeul is the most flexible girl you know, her small frame easily capable of folding and bending into every position you want. This position quickly becomes your favorite, because you don’t have to see her leaking asshole anymore, but you know that she is gaping and the worthless spunk steadily leaves her anal cavity.

Every time you thrust into her, you see and feel her whole ass and thighs ripple. Shock waves across the smooth, stretched, spotless skin gets sent in all kinds of directions because you dig your hands into it. There's still a disgusting amount of cum defying gravity, defying your forceful pounding into Gaeul, but you are sure that if you just keep on fucking her, and press her whole body into the mattress, the petite gangbang queen will leak out all the rest. Through the lewdest of sounds and a clear lack of stamina, the thought of Gaeul filled with nothing but you pushes you through.

You feel the knot inside you loosen, strings and little last spurts of cum hitting her cervix as your tip is right up against it. Gaeul has her feet right up against your back, her heels pulling you deeper inside her. She's still rutting against you, her clit drawing circles against your crotch enjoying the friction and satisfaction it brings. The art of the orgasm, Gaeul has mastered it. In her scream, you find an infinite sea of bliss. It draws out your orgasm a few more seconds; perfect seconds.

Post-nut clarity kicks in and you try to block out the other people who are regaining consciousness in the room. Witness how ethereal her beauty is under the ceiling light. You want to kiss her. You want to tell her how much you love her. However, the harsh reality kicks in harder than the post-nut clarity as she shifts her gaze away from you and looks at the time. You close your eyes, take a deep breath to cherish just how fucking good her cock-warming cavern is.

You pull away, unfazed at the mess in front of you at this point. Party time is over and you’re victorious but defeated, a bit deflated even. Why is the girl you’re falling for the wrong type of queen?

"Hey..." Gaeul reaches out and grabs your forearm and pulls you a little closer to give you one last peck on your cheek. "Drive safely, okay?” Her fingers tiptoe towards your hand until it reaches the back of your it, her thumb gently rubs circles on it. A new level of intimacy that makes your heart stutter. “Message me when you’re back home."

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #ive smut #male reader smut #gaeul smut #kim gaeul smut #ive gaeul smut

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elliewithcellie · 2 months

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just a lil request for fluff with steve or eddie!

reader has very specific sleeping conditions and usually sleeps w a pillow between her legs and her pillows just so, but she forgets it one night staying over at steve/eddie’s house. she’s squirming and can’t get comfy and when he finally finds out what’s wrong he offers her his pillow. reader declines and then he puts his thigh between her legs and you’re just like oh😍😍

This one had me going FERAL. I kept it PG but this just hits the spot I swear. I went with Eddie for this one! wc 0.7k

Tossing and Turning

You rolled over in bed for maybe the sixtieth time that night. You tossed and turned, desperate not to wake up your boyfriend. Tonight was your first time staying the night at Eddie’s, so you had taken your time to prepare. You thought you had packed everything. Your toothbrush, pajamas, and clothes for the next morning were neatly packed into your backpack, giving you a false sense of security. But now, as the p.m. transitioned into the a.m., you could perfectly picture your king-sized pillow in the center of your bed. It mocked you in your mind, and while sleep weighed on your eyes, your body resisted.

Facing Eddie now, you admired his serenity. You envied him. Not a single thought in his head as he lightly snored next to you. His eyebrows had softened, and his mouth hung slightly agape. You hoped that if you watched him long enough, your body would catch it like sleep was contagious. But after some time, your body continued to refuse rest. You huffed back into your pillow, perhaps louder than you should have, adjusting again to face the wall.

“You’re moving a lot, baby,” you heard Eddie whisper.

You winced, silently cursing at yourself for waking him. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. Go back to sleep.”

“Are you ok?” Eddie asked, adjusting himself onto his forearm.

You rolled back over. “I’m fine. I’m just having trouble sleeping is all.”

Eddie’s expression, though hard to pinpoint accurately in the dark, shifted to one of thoughtfulness. “You know, if you’re feeling nervous about this, it makes sense. It’s a big next step, and—”

“No, no,” you chuckled. “I’m good, Eddie. I feel really good about this.” You reached out for his hand. “I promise. It’s just… I forgot my pillow.”

“Your pillow?”

“It’s the only way I can sleep.”

“We can trade if that one isn’t good enough.”

“This one’s good. It’s my leg pillow I’m missing.”

“Your… leg pillow?”

You were losing him. You felt heat creep up to your cheeks. “I, uh, keep a pillow between my legs, and I swear it’s so comfortable. Here.” You took the pillow from your head and slotted it between your legs to demonstrate. “See? This should be fine, actually. I’m sorry I kept you up.”

“But now you don’t have a pillow.” Eddie frowned.

“It’s ok. I’m using my elbow. It’s fine.”

Eddie took his pillow from under him and slid it over to you. “Use this. I don’t need it.”

“I’m not taking your pillow.”

“You know I can sleep anywhere anyway, and you’re my guest. Take it, please.”

“I’m not taking your pillow!” you repeated.

“Baby,” he dragged.

“I’ll be fine. I promise.” You brought his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles. “Get some sleep, ok?”

You rolled away once more to face the wall. You brought the pillow from your legs to your head, an unspoken admission of defeat.

You sighed softly to yourself. You tried to remain positive. All you needed was patience, and you were sure to fall asleep. Eddie’s willingness to give up his pillow for you was not lost on you. He was ever the gentleman, even at the expense of his own comfort. You couldn’t help the small smile forming on your lips. The gesture filled you with warmth. You settled into place, reveling in your growing fondness for this boy.

“Nuh-uh. This isn’t over,” Eddie said breaking the silence. His arms slipped around your waist and pulled you flush against him. He nudged his knee between your legs causing you to gasp.

“Eddie!”

“Listen. I’m not just gonna let my girl suffer. Now, you have something to squeeze, and I have you to hold. It’s a win-win, really. Now, settle in.”

You were thankful for the dark, so Eddie couldn’t see the furious blush ravaging your features. You carefully adjusted yourself against his thigh, almost ashamed of the near-instant relaxation you were gaining from this. You peered over your shoulder to face him. “Are you sure you’re ok with this?”

“Of course, baby. I just want you comfortable. Now, try to sleep, alright?”

You nodded, a yawn already taking hold of you. You settled into Eddie’s touch, truly resting for the first time tonight. With the miracle work of Eddie’s thigh, you fell asleep within minutes.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff

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galaxyseclipse · 2 months

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(Agent 4)

Tier 0

3, 9, 15, 16, 20, 29

Tier 1

1, 10, 11, 15, 28

Tier 2

10, 12, 17, 18, 27

Tier 3

Tier 4

9, 21, 24

Tier 5

Tier 6

6, 11, 30

don't you smile mischievously at me /lh

though I did say "hit me" so maybe this is on me lol

but I will say: for future reference, maybe don't put 24 in one thing please

I like the long ones, and I'm glad y'all have that much interest in my characters, but that's a little excessive

Tier 0

3. What species are they? Any special notes?

They are an Inkling, specifically based on the hummingbird bobtail squid, so they glow.

9. Main tentacle color? How did they pick it?

Teal; they were born that way, but there has been some green creeping in lately :)

15. What is their main weapon? How did they pick it and why?

Dark Tetra Dualies. They like to feel powerful on the Reefslider and zip around with the more rolls.

16. Languages they speak? Any that they’ve learned or want to learn?

They speak Inklish mostly, but they know enough Octarian to carry a conversation pretty well(though their accent is usually somewhat off). They've lived with Ika long enough to start to recognize the occasional thing in Salmontongue, but definitely not enough to speak it(they can mostly only tell if they're talking about them).

20. What size are they? Are they average size for their species or not?

They are about 4' 10"(147 cm), so they're a little shorter than average.

29. What makes them cry? Is it a common sight?

They claim “nothing”, but that’s not true. They just don’t like people seeing them cry so they avoid doing it in front of others.

Tier 1

1. Any pets? Do they want any?

They probably had small ones as a kid, but none currently. They're a little too busy for one("keeping up with squirt is basically like taking care of an animal").

10. How much does it take to trigger their Special Rush state? Do they get pumped fast?

Only slightly less than average; like you've got a couple Special Charge Up slots. They are Tsunami's cousin, after all. They are very easily excitable though.

11. Are they a good Super Jumper? Do they land their jumps?

They're pretty accurate, but they can't go super far. It's about a 50/50 shot on whether they'll land it properly(they don't have bones, they'll be fine).

15. Their favorite way to listen to music? Headphones, radio, et cetera?

Headphones, it's more private.

28. Anything they have too much of?

Everyone tells them "blankets and pillows", but they themself would say "cups". They just started accumulating them and before they knew it, they had a ton.

Tier 2

10. How often are they in swim form? How does it feel to them?

Really only when they're trying to hide or swimming, though hiding still doesn't work very well because half of their body still glows. They are very small like that so it's a little scary.

12. How do they sleep? How much do they usually need to sleep?

They sleep under a very large pile of blankets and pillows, saying they "need the weight to be comfortable". How much fully depends on how close exams and project deadlines are; swinging between the normal 10-ish hours, and zero.

17. Are they in a relationship? Do they want to be?

They are dating Marie. They try to keep it lowkey for her sake.

18. Any past relationships? Why did they end?

No, they were never really a "relationship oriented" person. They had crushes, but they never went anywhere.

Tier 3

18. If they could be any other species, would they? And what would they be?

No, they're pretty content the way they are now.

Tier 4

9. Any short-term color change? Which emotions trigger which colors in them?

Not really other than for ink battles and stuff. Their tentacles get more or less saturated depending on their current mood, and their spots glow more or less in the same way.

21. What do they find attractive in somebody?

Personality first; if they can properly match their energy and look good while doing so? Instant attraction.

24. How often are they sick? How do they handle it?

Other than the frequent migraines, not super often. They're the kind of person who says, "if I can do [insert fun thing] I can do actual work" when sick and powers through it, even if they're on the verge of passing out.

Tier 5

2. Anything they are dreading or horribly afraid of in their current life?

The heat-death of the universe.

And some of the stuff they've done as an agent catching up to them.

Tier 6

6. What is their preferred weather? What is the worst one?

They like warm, sunny weather the most, and hate the cold(another cited reason for the blankets).

11. Are they doing alright mentally? And is their “alright” ACTUALLY alright?

Yes and no? Probably not, especially if they’re saying they’re “fine”.

30. Are they a good person? In their own opinion.

Objectively, yeah, but they sometimes struggle with thinking that.

#eclipse's ask box #eclipse's oc lore #four(agant 4)#half of this stuff i pulled out of my butt lol

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illmoraineakoi · 1 year

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Hollow Knight Plush Stuff

So, I decided I'm going to give this a shot, at least until I hit some sort of big snag that makes the end result not worth the effort.

Read More because this post got loooong

As per my last post trying to resist doing this, I've begun by trying to figure out some basic measurements for Hollow. The objective is to be as sprite accurate as possible, which I don't really foresee as being an issue, given the simple design.

And doing the measurements has really put into perspective on how utterly insane this venture might be.

The plan is that the plush will be 7 1/2 feet tall, from feet (if you could call those points 'feet') to the dip between their horns. I've determined this to be a really good body pillow/huggable buddy scale. In addition, if I ever develop a pattern for Ghost with this scale, they'll be 20 inches tall (without horns) and that's also a really nice huggable size.

Hugability is very important to me, you see.

Anyway, Measurements.

You want to know the measurements I've come up with?

Shin - 29 1/4 in Knee Ball - 2 5/8 in Thigh - 23 1/4 in Torso - 25 1/2 in Bicept - 18 1/2 in Forearm - 16 1/4 in Neck - ~8 - 9 in Head - - 14 in Horns - 41 in

If those numbers don't mean anything to you, get a yard stick, and look them up.

These are only the basic length measurements, I still have to work on width/thickness, and the more in detail stuff. Like the hands, which I just....chose to ignore for now lmao.

But now I want to throw some ideas around for how I want this thing to be put together, and some issues I foresee.

Stuffing Options-

there are benefits to Hollow being so thin, but I don't think their limbs stuffing will be one of them. Stuffing their limbs with normal fluff might not hold up longterm. Stuffing, unless densely packed, will move around and shift, and long narrow things are the worst at this. The amount of dragon tails I've made that have empty crease spaced because of this (and because i never learned my lesson) is at least a dozen by now. If I want to really make this, I don't want this to happen, and I especially don't want to have to try to open it back up to fix it a year or two down the line.

So, normal fluff for limbs is out. That leaves me with two options: foam or batting.

Both would negate the empty spaces issue, and both has their pros and cons. But ultimately, I think it comes down to how much I want the limbs to hold their form. Batting would be easier to work with, and cheaper, but it'd likely cause the final limbs to be floppier than using foam would. Foam would make them stiffer (perhaps even too stiff, depending on the type of foam available to me) and keep the actual shape of the limbs better. Pretty much just gotta figure out how cuddleable I want to go, I think.

For the torso, shifting fluff won't be such an issue, as there's more space to move side to side, which in turn means there's less chances for empty pockets to form. Main issue I foresee would be the waist, which will likely be the area it would bend the most. I think for the torso, I need to think about how much I want it to be able to support itself, which would be nice.

But now we get to the two major things that I KNOW will be a mess of problems on problems and be a bitch to deal with: the head and the neck.

Necks are the bane of my existence, and I know why most plushes don't have them: that moving stuffing empty space causing the necks to loose support and flop about. The bigger/heavier the head, the worse it'll be.

And Hollow's head is fucking MASSIVE.

The entire thing is 55 inches long, most of which is horn.

If I want the neck to have any sort of support, I will have to use dense foam, and even then I might have to put some sort of plastic tubing/metal armature within it. I would prefer to not have to do that, but It'll all come down to how heavy the head will be.

Which means that the head will have to be as light as possible. normal fluff is out, stuffing it to as firm as I tend to like my plushes will make it too heavy. I sort of want to try foam, at least for the horns. I feel like foam would be really nice to keep the shape of the horns, which is an important thing to me.

the more and more I type, the more I think that this plush will be mostly foam-stuffed. Which is actually kind of neat, I've never worked with foam as a stuffing material that much before. Mostly as a core to hold shapes. We'll see, this is mostly just spitballing ideas.

Fabric-

I want to see if I have enough fabric already, which will go a big way into factoring if I actually do this. But I also want to use minky for this, and I don't think I have any black minky left.

Minky is my go-to fabric for my plushes, because it's my favorite and because it's very soft. the specific type of minky I use, Shannon Cuddle 3, also has a short pile (fur) compared to other minkys, while being no less soft. Minky is also somewhat stretchy due to being a knit-like fabric, which makes rounded parts nice and smooth. I love working with Minky, and the idea of having a big minky-fluffy Hollow is one that I cannot pass up, that would be sooooo nice.

But I'm not sure if I'd want their head to be minky as well. I feel like having it be a different fabric, a different texture, would be really nice, both tactically and visually. Probably still a knit, so it's still soft, but one without a pile. Or I could just do what I sometimes do and just....use minky inside out lmao. bit of a waste of minky for such large parts, i usually only do that for smaller parts. I think I might actually have a white fabric that might work really well, though with how large the head will be, I'm not sure I'll have enough. Which will suck, because I haven't been able to find this fabric ever since RIP ME

I might check out the Amish fabric shop I sometimes shop at, I can't remember for the life of me if it sells minky. It'll be a good place to look for potential mask fabrics regardless.

As a side note: a cursed part of my brain briefly though about how the plush might look like if I used velvet for the body. It'd probably look really cool, but I'm someone who doesn't like the feel of velvet. it's like...prickly, to me, not soft at all. So while it might LOOK really nice, it's definitely not worth doing. I want to be able to cuddle this plush.

[Also side note: my favorite fabric site has apparently shut down WTF WHY THAT SITE WAS SO FUCKING GOOD?! IT HAD ALL THE MINKY COLORS NOOOO]

Eyes-

Eyes are always a part I pay extra attention to in plushes, because I feel like they can make or break a plush's face.

I've done some googling, and it seems like everyone who's made HK plushes of Vessels just do black circles. Which makes sense, that's literally the easiest thing you can do to make their eyes.

That's probably what I'll ed up doing as well (or, well, eggy ovals instead of circles) but I still wonder what it might look like if I tried to make a sort of indent or carve out for eyes, so they're more like eye holes. I think that'd be a really cool idea, and could potentially look really neat, really look like head shell has some depth from the 'underlying' blackness. The issue would be doing it with fabric, which could prove difficult.

If I do use foam for the head, that would make it a bit more possible. The foam would hold the shape of the eye socket.

Perhaps gluing black fabric directly onto the foam 'skull', then layering a doubled layer of fabric over top (or even fabric over thin foam over the skull?) would work? That calls into question how to keep the fabric over top secured in it's proper place. even if fit snugly over the foam, it would still be able to move a little bit...This would require some testing, to see if it's even an idea that may work.

Another idea would be to carve out the eye sockets, line that socket with white fabric, then shove a piece of black-covered foam into it, gluing it in place. That seems like it'd be easier, and might look better. I'll test it.

Side note: it'd also be interesting to see if I can make the mask cracks indented too, but those are probably too thin to even try.

Pure Vessel vs Hollow Knight-

Gonna be real, I dunno which one I want to make. Pure Vessel would be easier, despite taking a little more material. I also wouldn't have to deal with the crack.

But at the same time, THK would be more challenging, and I kind of want that challenge.

If I do THK, I kind of want to add some infection 'scars' to their torso, make it less symmetrical than the other side. I've never really tried to do something like that.

I also kinda don't want to have to make two hands lamo

This thing will be so big that I'll only be able to make one. And also only have the space to keep one.

Ending Thoughts-

When I first had the idea for this, I was sure that once I really thought things through, really put thought into all the things I'd have to do to actually make it, that I'd become so daunted that I'd trash it. And for all intents and purposes, this idea is utterly INSANE. I should not be thinking of doing this. It's a huge amount of effort, and time, and money, for something that will ultimately be completely useless. For an oversized plush. that serves no purpose besides being cuddled.

But rather than daunting, I think this could be fun. that I might enjoy the challenge, and enjoy expanding my sewing skills, learning new things. Broken down, it doesn't really seem so bad.

Would it be a waste of time? Potentially. Would I be better off working on other, more productive things? Probably. Would it be a waste of money? Absolutely.

Am I still going to do it?

Yes. Yes I am.

Tomorrow I'll tackle doing some pattern sketches. For the rest of tonight, I'll do some research into fabrics and foams and other potential materials. Maybe some more measurements. Should really do the hand.

Man, this is gonna be one hell of a wild ride.

#Hollow Knight #HK Hollow #Illmoraine babbles #Hollow Plush Stuff #I've officially lost my mind #that's the only explanation for why I'm actually going to try to do this.#But man the end result will be so fucking cool #Hopefully #If I don't fuck it up.

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tlacehualli · 2 years

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@apoapsis Although the words are certainly lost on him, the fondness she exudes certainly isn’t. At the very least, it’s more than enough to throw him off of her sense of malaise.

Despite his massive size, there is an abnormal lightness of his body, as a result of the gravitic displacement localized to his ANOMALY. Listlessly, he allows her to articulate herself around him-- primarily because he fears scaring her away if he’s too hasty to touch. Yet all the same, SIGMA can’t help but lean into the contact, appreciating her closeness, both physically and mentally. Realistically speaking, it would be difficult for her to cause him distress-- he was simply too touch-starved, too emotionally neglected,to willingly avoid favorable social and/or physical contact. It simply isn’t enough to see and touch when his more worldly senses could not accurately interpret his so-called “reality”-- instead, he finds most comfort in sensing her at an atomic level. Familiarity to be found in the unique architecture of her atomic structure; an inability to process incoming external stimuli emphasizes a need to accurately identify reality through alternative means.

But this may be a deviation from the norm-- had she always allowed him so close to her...? The monotony of the life he lives when he’s awake blends daydream and memory into a homogeneous blend of both-- of which, the soporifics provide no clarity.

His eyes open again when she speaks-- he isn’t sure when they had closed-- his head cocking to the side as he gazes down at her with a degree of blankness, momentarily. Initially, because he’d simply been enjoying the moment... However, as her tone grows more serious, Sombra comes back into focus as the old man blinks away a bit of dryness in his tired eyes. “-- You don’t... A-ah... For me...?” The hand of the arm not currently linked with Sombra’s accepts the device with a degree of reverence as he momentarily inspects the gadget. He’s seen her use them before-- but how did they work? Was it like a beacon, or....?

-- Wait. Did she say even Akande...?

“-- Why, thank you! That is... That is so kind of you, Miss Sombra!“ Despite his classic enthusiasm, his voice is a soft murmur in their shared space, and although he trusts that she’d never say something so scandalous where anyone could hear, he’s... a little afraid for her when she says things like that. It seemed.... reckless. “I will cherish it always!“ And hey, even if he never once needs it-- it’s... nice to know someone’s there besides SIEBREN.

‘You’re not alone’. Why was that such a painful thing to hear?

And if that wasn’t already overkill-- Sombra plants the most delicate kiss to his temple after, and it’s such a simple gesture... And she’s laughing as if he hadn’t noticed it. That isn’t normal. There’s an instinct to mirror her laughter, but he can’t.As a result, he feels fragile and small. It begins with a familiar yet so foreigntightening of his chest, a constriction in his throat-- it washes over him so fast.Before he can even attempt swallowing it back down, SIGMA can already feel a cascade of dew-like tears bead up along the creases of his cybernetics before spilling down gaunt cheeks to saturate into the front of his jumpsuit. Ah, he’s crying again... Why is he crying this time? How can such an innocent gesture have him falling apart at a moment’s notice...? What’s wrong with him...? She isn’t going to stick around-- let alone come back-- if all he is going to do is cry. And yet, all he does is cry.

Yes, of course he’s hungry. He’ll devour anything she offers.

“-- A-ah... ‘ore-jita’...?“ SIGMA attempts to replicate her pronunciation in an attempt to distract her from the sudden flash-flood of tearsas the translocator is set on his pillow for now in favor of using his jumpsuit’s gloved sleeve to wipe away some of the moisture clinging to his cheeks. So she had brought him something... does SIGMA truly deserve her? He felt wretched, constantly taking and asking things of her when there was quite literally nothing to offer in return.

“... Yes, please... I am a little hungry...“

Both of the hacker's eyebrows flew up partway into her forehead when she saw tears well up in his eyes before spilling out. It ade the laughter die in her throat and she just watched him, carefully, softly; usually her electric purple eyes, oddly colored due to the cybernetics, could be rather sharp but she was just worried. At least he wasn't pulling away, that was a good thing, right?"

"Ay. Sorry for making you cry, viejito. It was supposed to be like a nice visit or whatever but puta madre, I just have a talent for making it weird somehow." A small little apologetic expression warmed up her features before transitioning into a brighter beam as he accepted the offer of a little orejita. She held out a palmier for him. "Straight from my favorite bakery in town. Mannn, I wish I could take you to like, a proper panaderia but I don't trust any of these gringos and I'm so shit at baking."

She lulled herself into a contemplative silence after that, her arms moving behind her to support her upper body whilt she looked around his quarters, feet swinging back and forth. Honestly, his situation made her really sad. He was a really sweet old guy, there really was no reason why they had to keep him locked up, right?

The smaller human sighed in consternation. It all made her feel so guilty sometimes. First the Widow, now him, like...she'd never bought into any of Talon's bullshit. She was using them because she needed them and she didn't think the Supercops over at Overwatch were gonna be exactly helpful for her. She had shit she needed to do, she needed to keep herself safe, she needed resources, and so the AI in her spine had told her that Talon was the most logical choice. And they didn't care about her extracurricular activities as long as they didn't know it was sometimes at their expense.

Still though. She felt really guilty He'd just fucking cried over a little bit of human contact and like the bare minimum. "Viejito, estas bien? I mean uh...you okay? Like in general you know. With uh...stuff." Still not looking at him, just getting a little bit Catholic with her guilt.

#apoapsis #JESUS okay the emotions.

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secretly-small · 2 years

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It’s literally midnight, and I just now jotted up a thing. IDEK what this is supposed to be, but whatever.

Word count: 567

CWs: romance, PG

Disclaimer: this is entirely unedited. Not even a reread. I apologize for bad writing and/or story.

Too Small 💕

“You know, for a rich guy, you’ve a really small bed,” I thought aloud, laying next to him as I stared at the ceiling. The statement itself wasn’t really accurate, seeing as we both fit on the mattress with room to spare. The size was more than enough for a single teen boy.

“What makes you think I’m rich?” he asked tiredly.

“You’re the son of the chief, Nate. You can’t tell me you’re not loaded,” I challenged. “And it’s true—your bed’s pathetic.”

I waited a second, expecting a cocky response about my size. Or even proportionally, how my own room and furniture was all half the size and quality of anything he owned.

“Fix it, then,” my Link mumbled.

I did a double take, ripping my gaze from the ceiling to him. His stifled grin told me I’d heard correctly, and I couldn’t help mirroring one of my own.

“Nerd,” I whispered before planting a peck on his lips. White light flashed before he could return it, and I found myself lounging across his forehead rather than fitting perfectly beside him like before. Gold bangs tickled my skin, and the relief of my magic caused me to let out a long sigh.

But I didn’t get hardly a moment to relax before large digits hovered closer. His muscles wiggled about beneath me as he moved his eyebrows in a bad attempt to try seeing me better. Carefully, his hand moved to pluck me from his face. It was clumsier than I’d ever seen Nathen’s calculated movements before. A couple of his fingers even bumped into my side.

My breaths echoed off his skin as he shifted. He took care to move his body around his hand before placing me on the pillow beside him. It didn’t have much give to my insignificant weight, but that was the last thing on my mind.

He held himself right above me, his entire body being no less than the atmosphere itself. Next to me, his hands rest on either side. And below was a seemingly endless mountain of sheets and bedding before it dropped off to a ground far beyond what I could see.

Nathen drew closer, eyes holding a slight tease that made me gulp. Never before had he held such a playful attitude, but I wasn’t about to stop him now.

“Better?” he asked. Rather than whispering like normal, he actually used his voice with the question. It vibrated around me with such volume I thought my head might burst in amazement.

I gave a shaky nod, no longer attempting to hide how much he was setting off my instincts.

He shifted his weight to the left, causing me to roll a couple times before I could regain my balance. This elicited a rumbling chuckle that made my very bones melt.

“You know,” he started, still using his voice to speak. It was quiet enough it caused no pain, exactly. More like a tingling shiver. “You should probably get used to this bed.” He pulled in even closer, to the point here his always-perfect breath washed over me. Finally, the soft skin of his lips pressed against my face and upper body suffocatingly.

Weightlessness surrounded me on all sides. From the endless pillow beneath me to the familiar presence above. I sighed as I kissed back.

He wouldn’t need to worry—I’d get used to it very quickly.

#Lindsay and Nathen #g/t #giant/tiny #borrowers #g/t story #g/t fluff #g/t related #g/t concept #g/t community #size difference #g/t art #g/t writing #g/t au #gentle giant #g/t ocs #gt community #gt #gt story #Romance

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thenastyotherblog · 2 years

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Disclaimer: Im not a transperson not do I wear a binder, I did my best doing a bit of research of chest binding before writing this and I hope is accurate, if not please do let me now!

@phoenixcharged Hope you like it!

Your binder is killing you.

You were supposed to take it off like what? Two hours ago? But Mr. Stubborn thinks he can handle the pain until lunchtime.

"Its only a little bit of back pain" You thought, foolishly. Your back has endure so much already, whats are some couple of extra hours?

I will tell you what are a couple of hours.

Its not only back pain at this point, is the pressure on your sides, the unholy pain on your chest, the pressure on your ribcage that makes you think of those videos of people crushing a macaroon apart.

Not to mention the fricking heat.

You feel like a steamead vegetable right now, a layer of sweat covering you whole.

Is disgusting.

Finally your class is over and you make a, discret, run to put all your papers and materials back into your bag. You want this thing off you. NOW.

"Hey Teach, got a second?" You resist the urge of sighing in distress as one of your students comes to you, they look apologetic from taking more of your time but they do seem like they need the extra help.

So you stay while in excruciating pain.

Now it feels like someone is trying to vacuum seal you, oh it hurts.

You are on your way to the bathroom, your vision a lit fuzzy, you are only thinking of sweet relif when you face-crash into something, someone?

"Hey, Teach!" Hizashi greets you cheerful. "I was going to pick you up about now! Didnt know you wanted your dosis of me as soon as possible!"

Oh yeah, you two had a little lunch date planned today. You didnt remember because the pain makes you numb.

You can only manage to give him some forceful chuckles, holy mother of god even that is leaving you without air. "Oh hey, Zash" Oh dont talk, why are you talking when it hurts this badly?

Hizashi is quick to realize something aint right with you, he is observant like that. Or maybe is because you look like you are about to hit the bucket any moment now.

"Hey, are you alright little listener? You look a bit…pale"

"Who? Me? Pssht" You wave your hand, trying to take a bit of the seriousness off the situation and while you do that try to straighten yourself up. FUCK. GRAVE MISTAKE. YOUR CHEST HURTS!

"Songbird whats wrong?" The cheerfuness of his voice is now replaced by serious worry. Awn man, you dont want to make him do that face, the "im worried sick about you face" you cant handle the guilt.

"Nothing! I swear!" You laugh some more, air rapidly leaving your, very very crushed lungs. "Lets go! I cant wait for-"

Why is the floor coming closer to you? Oh shit are you falling? You hear Hizashi scream your name as you hit the floor, HARD. You can still hear him say something tho you cannot really comprehend what it is; Oh is so hard to breathe, are you even breathing right now? It doesnt feel like it. You feel hot, like you been outside in the sun for too long. You are thirsty, would kill for a glass of water right now. . Your eyes take their sweet time to adjust as you slowly open your eyes, the infirmary roof lights greeting you. Wait, the infirmary? You try to pry your body up, a pair of hands appearing on your vision. Hizashi. Hizashi is here. "Easy now" He helps you to lift your upper body, adjusting the pillows behind you. You are so thanful for that cuz your back still hurts a lot. "He's awake"

"What- What happen?" You mumble, your throat is so dry.

Recovery girls makes her appearence, mumbling something about how dangerous that was and that you need to be more careful.

"Did you know you are wearing a size too small of binder?" There is no anger on her voice but you still feel like a kid being scolded.

"I- I didnt." You sheepely say, avoiding Hizashi's worry look. "I thought it was the correct size?"

The old lady just shake her head, handling you a pamphlet about chest binding. "It can be a bit tricky but you are supposed to wear a binder two times your size. Boy, how long have you been with the same Binder?" You can feel your cheeks burn. "No more binding for the rest of the day, you hear me? Let your poor ribs rest. And a new Binder is in order!"

"Are they gonna be ok?" Hizashi asks her, he carefully takes one of your hands, squezing it a little bit.

"Of course! I trust you will be here with him?" Hizashi only nods. "Wonderful! Then you can guide him throught the breathing excersices I told you!”

"Consider it done ma'am!"

Its an akward silence after Recovery Girl takes her leave. Honestly you are so embarrased that not only you faint in front of Hizashi but that he also carry you to the infirmary? And witness what an idiot you are? Two sizes bigger? You didnt know that! You think a grown ass trans man would know that, apparently not! You feel like crying but dont! That would be even more embarrasing!

"Lets go buy you a new Binder after class"

"Eh?"

Hizashi is still holding your hand, his whole body exhales relief now that you are awake. There is not even a trace of anger, even when he has the right to. "A cooler desing this time. Ok?” You smile as you gave him a little nod. "That's what I like to see! Now lets hit those breathing exercises!"

#present mic x reader #present mix x trans!male reader #Hizashi yamada x reader #present mic #hizashi yamada #trans!reader #trans!male reader

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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part One

----

Part Two

25.12.19

When I woke up in the morning, it took me a moment to figure out where I was and why the pillow my head was resting on was so hard and warm. Once I'd figured it out - that my head was not actually on a pillow, but on Chris' chest - I almost had to roll my eyes. Of course it was. Of course we'd ended up all cuddled together. Because life was just one big romantic comedy, right?

I sighed quietly, silently praying that Chris wasn't awake yet as I slowly slid myself away from him. He didn't stir until I was sitting on the edge of the bed so I was hopeful that he hadn't been aware of the position we were in.

"G'morning," he greeted me, rubbing his eyes as the sound of excited children echoed down the hallway. "What time is it?"

I quickly checked my phone on the nightstand before answering.

"Only seven o'clock," I told him before yawning. "But it sounds like everyone is up and bouncing off the walls already."

"I'm not surprised," Chris smiled. "They've probably torn into all the presents by now."

I laughed and nodded my head, knowing it was a good possibility.

"It probably wasn't super smart to leave Scott out there guarding them by himself," I pointed out. "Not after he spent half the night shaking his own presents trying to guess what was inside."

"Oh, it definitely wasn't," Chris agreed. "He was always the one who ruined things by finding his presents early and getting us all in trouble."

"Well, I should go see what they're up to or if anything can be salvaged," I smiled as I pulled a sweater on over my pyjamas. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be out in a minute," he assured me. I headed to the door, but stopped when I heard his voice again. "Hey, Whitney? Merry Christmas."

I smiled even wider as that happy, familiar Christmas morning feeling washed over me.

"Merry Christmas, Chris."

With that, I hurried out the door, trying not to focus too much on how content I felt and how right it seemed to wake up in his arms on Christmas morning.

When I got to the kitchen, I was surprised to see that everyone else was already awake, despite how early it was.

"Good morning," Lisa greeted me as I wandered into the kitchen where all the adults were congregating. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, everyone," I smiled before they all repeated it back to me. "Did I miss all the fun?"

"No, of course not," Carly assured me. "We've managed to keep them away from the presents so far, but I'm not sure how much longer we can hold them off."

"We're still waiting for Chris though," Scott pointed out as I grabbed a clean mug and headed to the fresh pot of coffee on the counter. "Have you seen him? He disappeared not long after we went to bed and never came back."

"Oh, yeah, he's in his room," I answered mindlessly as I filled my mug. "We ended up sleeping together last night."

I heard Scott almost choke on his coffee and noticed the sudden silence in the room, but it wasn't until Lisa spoke that I realized what I'd said.

"Whitney, honey," she said, speaking softly. "What do you mean?"

"Oh my god, no! Not like that!" I rushed to explain as my cheeks grew hot. "We literally slept together, like as in slept next to each other. Chris came into his room looking for a sweater because he was cold and had given away all his spare blankets so I offered for him to share the bed with me. That's all, I swear."

There were knowing smiles amongst the group and I wasn't entirely sure that they all believed me which made things even more embarrassing as I wouldn't want them to think I'd talk so candidly about things like that with Chris' mother of all people. Before I had a chance to continue desperately defending myself though, a voice from the doorway interrupted.

"What are you swearing about?" He asked, leaning against the doorway. "Why do I feel like I missed something good?"

Again, I was ready to explain, but someone beat me to it.

"Whitney was just giving us the update," Scott informed his older brother as he matched his smirk. "She was telling us how you two slept together."

Chris' eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment before he relaxed and let out a chuckle.

"Well, that's not exactly how I would have phrased it," he informed the group with a shrug. "But I suppose it is accurate. We slept and we were together."

"I just misspoke," I groaned. "I haven't had any coffee yet, I wasn't thinking clearly."

"A little Freudian slip?" Carly suggested as she joined in on the teasing, but I simply rolled my eyes.

"Chris probably wishes that was a peak into my subconscious desires, but I'm afraid not. Just a clear sign that I am not a morning person."

"I think we'll all need plenty of coffee to deal with the energy in that living room," Lisa interjected, putting an end to the discussion despite Chris' protests of my claim. "But we should probably go and join them before they open all the presents, whether they belong to them or not."

We all murmured in agreement and everyone topped up whatever beverage they were drinking before we headed to the living room to start the Christmas fun.

"Mama!" Grayson shouted as we entered the room. "Look! Santa came!"

"Of course he did," I smiled at the children. "You've all been good this year so it's no surprise."

They all nodded and agreed enthusiastically except Ethan who, now that he was almost ten, had figured out the truth. He was a good kid though and a loving older brother so he kept the secret, quietly watching them with a knowing smile now that he was finally in on the joke with the adults.

"Can we open them?" Stella asked, bouncing up and down from holding in her excitement. "We've been waiting for so long!"

"I wouldn't say so long," Scott chuckled. "Since it's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet!"

"But, yes, you can open them," Carly informed her children. "Just be careful and don't rush."

There was a flurry of activity as the kids dove into the presents, organizing whose was whose before settling down next to their little piles. I took a step back and sat on the couch next to Lisa, letting Chris sit on the floor behind Grayson. It was his Christmas after all and it felt right that he should be the one helping him open presents. Plus, this way I got a perfect view of the joyful grin that was plastered on his face. A grin that was perfectly replicated by his father behind him making my heart clench at the sight of them together like this.

I watched from my spot on the couch as the gifts were opened one by one and soaked in every giggle and shriek of glee from the children. Grayson was on top of the world and so grateful for each and every gift, it was delightful to see. Given our financial security, especially for Chris, it would have been easy to spoil him, but it made me incredibly proud to see how gracious he was.

However, one of the last gifts he wasn't so grateful to receive. It was from me and I knew there was a chance it wouldn't be his favourite, but his response was far worse than I could have imagined.

It was a decent sized box and he tore off the wrapping paper eagerly, intrigued by what could be inside. When he revealed that it was a foot and a half tall electronic T-Rex, his first reaction was one of amazement.

"Wow! A dinosaur!"

"Yeah," I smiled. "Take him out and see what he can do."

Chris set to work helping Grayson open the box before glancing up at me.

"Does he need batteries?"

"I put some in already," I assured him. "I knew he'd want to see it right away so I thought it would be easier."

He nodded as Grayson placed the giant T-Rex on the floor and looked at me expectantly.

"There's a button on his back, press it."

Everyone watched as he poked around until he got the right spot and the dinosaur came to life. He roared and his head moved around, but as the older kids cheered and clapped, Grayson burst into tears.

"Oh, dear..." Lisa smiled as she watched her grandson leap into his father's arms.

Everyone was chuckling at his dramatic reaction as Grayson buried his face in Chris' neck.

"Awe, buddy, I'm sorry!" I apologized. "Did it scare you?"

"Yes! He's scary!" Grayson's response was muffled by Chris' body and hard to understand through his sobs. "I don't wike it, Mama!"

I smiled at the little speech impediment that he inherited from his father - much like the one his cousin, Miles, had - but I did feel bad for how genuinely afraid he was.

"I'm sorry, baby. We can take the batteries out, okay? Then he won't be able to move."

The dinosaur had stopped moving on his own before I spoke and Grayson moved his head from where he was hiding his face, nodding as he did so.

"Yes, please."

"I bought it a while ago, thinking it was the perfect gift and then last week, he suddenly decided that T-Rexes were mean and I thought it might not go down so well," I admitted to the adults as I stretched forward to pick up the dinosaur and take the batteries out. "It's such a shame though, I think he's adorable. If you press the button on his tail, a little song plays and he does a little wiggle dance."

Chris smirked at me as he rubbed our still sniffling son's back.

"Why don't you take him home? Sounds like you might enjoy playing with him when Grayson isn't around."

He was making fun of me, I knew he was, but I didn't take the bait.

"You know what? I might just do that."

Chris opened his mouth to most likely make another teasing comment, but Ethan interrupted him.

"If Grayson doesn't want the T-Rex, can I have it?"

"I think you got enough new toys this morning," Ethan's dad warned him. "Don't be greedy."

"We'll let Grayson keep him for now," Chris agreed. "He might get used to him after a while if he plays with him without the batteries."

I passed the toy in question back to Chris and Grayson cowered away, whimpering against his dad's chest.

"Just leave it for now," I suggested. "We can try it again later when the initial shock has worn off."

Chris nodded and put the dinosaur behind his back and out of sight.

The rest of the gift opening went by smoothly and no more children were traumatized. Once every gift that was under the tree had been opened, we left the kids to test out their new things while the adults headed to the kitchen to start making breakfast. It was quickly decided that pancakes would be the easiest thing to mass produce for our large group of hungry people and while Lisa, Carly and I started mixing up a few bowls of batter, Chris and Scott whipped out the orange juice and champagne for mimosas.

An hour later everyone was very full and we were two bottles of champagne down.

"So, Whitney," Scott started as he loaded up the dishwasher. "Are you staying here tonight too or are you planning on making us spend half the day shovelling the driveway for you?"

His tone was teasing, but as I looked out the window at the deep blanket of snow that covered the ground outside, I was torn. I didn't want to outstay my welcome by staying another night, but I also didn't want to make the Evans family spend their entire Christmas day shovelling snow and there was no way that I'd be able to do it by myself.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I wasn't planning on staying another night, but it does look like there's a lot of snow out there..."

"Just stay," Chris shrugged. "Even if we can get your car down the driveway, the roads are probably terrible."

"There's no need for you to rush off," Lisa agreed. "Stay another night and then you can just relax and enjoy the day."

"And you can drink if you're not driving home," Scott pointed out with a grin. "Chris and I stocked up on wine, beer, whiskey and gin, these mimosas were just the start of the party."

I couldn't help, but laugh at Scott's reasoning as I nodded my head.

"Alright, I'll stay. If you really don't mind, Chris?"

"Of course not," Chris assured me. "We're happy to have you."

"Great!" Scott grinned. "I'm glad that's settled, I think this calls for another round of drinks!"

Chris cheered and jumped up to help him while the rest of us smiled and shook our heads at their antics.

The day was spent soaking in quality family time, watching the kids enjoy their new toys and indulging in lots of food and drink. We called Chris' dad and my parents and even had an unexpected phone call from my Uncle Rob. He spent more time talking to Chris than me, his own niece, but it was nice to hear his voice even if he made sure to get a dig in about me confessing my supposedly obvious feelings to Chris.

Sitting around the table, eating a delicious meal with Chris' loving and welcoming family was quite a contrast to how I expected to spend the day and I was very grateful that Chris had included me. Grayson seemed to appreciate it too and he made his enjoyment clear as we tucked him into bed once all the fun and feasting was done.

Chris sat on the floor leaning against Grayson's nightstand, reading him his favourite bedtime story while I laid on the bed next to him and rubbed his back. He was drifting off by the time the story was finished, but he was fighting it desperately as he spoke again.

"I'm happy, Mama," he told us, his words muffled as he nuzzled into his pillow.

Chris put his hand over his heart as he mouthed an 'awe' at me and I smiled.

"You're happy?" I clarified quietly, my smile growing as he nodded. "I'm glad to hear that, baby."

"I like that you're here," he mumbled. "Daddy should come home with us too."

My heart clenched at that request as my smile faltered. I knew it was only a matter of time until Grayson paid more attention to the fact that his time was divided between two homes, but I wasn't ready to deal with it just yet.

"Maybe Daddy could come for a sleepover sometime," I suggested, stroking his hair back out of his face, but that wasn't all he wanted.

"He should come all the time."

I was never great at hiding my emotions and from the way Chris was watching me, I assumed my distress at Grayson's comments was written all over my face and I was grateful when he jumped into the conversation.

"But what about Dodger?"

Dodger's ears perked up from his spot at the end of the bed, but he settled again when he realized that Chris wasn't calling for him.

"He can come too," was Grayson's answer to that dilemma, but Chris had a response at the ready.

"C'mon, you think Dodger would have enough space in your Ma's apartment?" He asked. "He needs a big house like this to run around in!"

So then we could all just stay here would be the logical comeback to that, but it seemed our sleepy little guy was too tuckered out from the excitement to argue. He let out a little sigh of defeat, but said no more. We stayed quiet for a few minutes until his breathing shifted and he was soundly asleep.

Chris offered me his hand to help me climb over Grayson without waking him up and, after whispering a quiet request to Dodger to keep our boy safe, he led me out of the room.

"You okay?"

The question came as soon as Grayson's door was pulled to and we were in the hallway.

"Yeah, of course," I nodded, forcing a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Chris shot me a look that clearly showed his disbelief.

"You looked pretty downhearted in there."

"I just worry," I shrugged. "I don't want our situation to upset him and I know he's going to notice it more as he gets older."

"He'll be fine," Chris assured me, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder comfortingly. "He's got so much love in his life, he won't even notice that his family is a little different."

I wasn't convinced. He was obviously already noticing or he wouldn't have questioned it only moments before. I didn't want to start such a delicate, potentially tense conversation at the end of such a happy day though so I forced a more convincing smile onto my face.

"You're right," I agreed. "But I wouldn't be a mom if I didn't worry."

"Well, there's no time for worryin' on Christmas!" Chris claimed, followed by a grin as he dragged me off towards the kitchen. "What can I get you? Another wine? Maybe some gin? I might have some tequila kickin' around here somewhere..."

"No! No tequila!" I laughed. "Gin would be great, thanks."

Chris nodded and set to work mixing our beverages for the evening before we went to the living room to rejoin his family and I did my best to push any worries about letting Grayson down out of my mind.

After the kids were all in bed, the rest of the evening was spent playing games and sharing drinks. It was heartwarming, wholesome family fun and I was so glad that Scott had encouraged me to stay as the thought of rushing home to my cold, empty apartment wasn't at all appealing.

The only strange thing about the evening was Chris. We were teamed up for most of the games and it was quite amazing how in tune with each other we were as we won everything by a landslide. We'd been friends for a long time and knew each other very well so it was unsurprising to me that we had so much success, but the teasing comments that came from a rather drunk Scott implied other reasons than friendship for our harmony. I scoffed and rolled my eyes every time he cracked a joke about us, but Chris seemed to love it. He was a few drinks in and probably just feeling a little goofy, but the grin on his face after every suggestive comment sparked an odd feeling in my stomach.

It was around ten o'clock when everyone except Chris, Scott and I decided to go to bed. We bid them goodnight and Chris went to top up our drinks before settling back onto the couch beside me. By this time, I was definitely feeling it. I wasn't drunk, but I knew this drink would have to be my last as the flush of my cheeks and the happy, fuzzy feeling in my brain was telling me that it was time to wind it down for the night.

However, as Chris handed me another gin and soda, settled on the couch next to me, placed his drink on the end table beside him and pulled my feet into his lap, my mind suddenly felt surprisingly sharp.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a giggle slipping from my lips.

"Releasing some tension."

As he answered, he began a slow massage of my left foot and I couldn't help, but smile at how wonderful it felt.

"Releasing?" Scott snorted a laugh. "Sure, a foot rub is known for getting rid of tension, not making it worse."

Chris smirked at what Scott was insinuating, but seemed unbothered by it.

"Don't be jealous," he teased, but now it was my turn to smirk.

"Of what?" I questioned. "This foot rub? It's not that great, Scott."

Scott laughed as Chris gasped a tad over dramatically.

"Not that great? I offer you a free foot rub and you can't even be fuckin' grateful?"

Chris shook his head, but the smile on his face told me that he wasn't really offended. He did stop massaging my feet though and I whined in protest as he picked up his drink.

"A mediocre foot rub is better than nothing," I pouted. "Keep going."

Chris sipped his whiskey, the smile on his face morphing back into a smirk as he shook his head again, but he did let his hand rest over my ankles and I was happy for even that tiny bit of contact.

Scott changed the subject to some viral video he saw the other day and Chris laughed and chatted along as he absentmindedly let his hand drift up my shin, underneath the loose pyjama pants that I'd changed into shortly after we put Grayson to bed.

My mind was instantly taken back to another time when we'd shared such gentle touches. A time when his lips followed his fingers as they traced kisses up from my ankle all the way to the lacy edge of my underwear. A time when he'd then proceeded to pull that underwear off with his teeth before returning his face back to a very sensitive area.

"Whitney, have you seen it?"

Scott's question snapped me out of my racy daydream. I felt my cheeks flush with colour as I forced my gaze away from Chris' hand over to Scott, reminding myself that even though the look on Chris' face would make it seem otherwise, he couldn't possibly know what I was just thinking of.

"Uh, no, I haven't," I admitted, sipping my drink to try to cool myself down even though it was becoming apparent to me that I needed to slow down my alcohol consumption. "All I seem to watch these days is Paw Patrol."

Chris barked out a laugh and nodded.

"So much Paw Patrol," he agreed. "The kid's obsessed."

"Chase is on the case!" I giggled before changing my voice slightly. "Rubble on the double!"

"Oh my god," Scott laughed, a horrified look on his face. "We need to get you out more."

I shrugged as Chris continued to trace patterns on my shins.

"That's the life of a mom."

"Yeah, but what about when he's with Chris? You must have some sort of life then."

"Scott."

Chris' voice was harsh and warning as what Scott was implying could be taken as offensive, but I wasn't bothered.

"It's fine," I assured him. "I know I'm lame. I don't have much of my own life, I don't really know anyone around here."

"You have Allison," Chris pointed out. "You've mentioned her a lot. She's your friend, right?"

He was referring to my one and only friend in Massachusetts. She was also a photographer and we'd met at a camera store when I first moved here. She'd asked me a question about a new brand of film and we'd ended up having coffee to exchange tips. She realized quickly that I didn't know many people in town and had taken me under her wing.

"She is," I nodded. "But she has three kids of her own and she's married so she doesn't have weeks where she's child free like I do. We hang out when we can, but usually it's with all the kids, not like quality 'girl time'."

"I didn't know that," Chris frowned. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't feel bad for me." I nudged him with my foot. "I have plenty of friends, they're just in LA. I'm happy here."

"I'll take you out for drinks one day," Scott promised. "Even if you're happy, everyone needs to let their hair down a little bit sometimes."

"That would be fun," I smiled, tossing back the last of my drink. "But for now, I think I've let my hair down enough for today. It's time for me to get to bed before all these drinks go to my head."

I slid my feet off of Chris' lap and slowly stood up as he looked up at me.

"Are you cool if I bunk with you again tonight?"

"Of course," I nodded. "Just sneak in quietly if you two stay up too late."

"I'm ready to crash already," Scott informed us. "So, we won't be up much later."

"Okay. Well, goodnight boys," I waved as I headed towards the door. "Thank you for a lovely day."

They chorused a goodnight back to me before I walked down the hall.

I was just coming out of the en suite in Chris' bedroom after brushing my teeth when Chris strolled into the room.

"Hey," I smiled. "Ready for bed already?"

"Scott wasn't lying," he returned my smile. "He was half asleep by the time you made it down the hall."

I laughed as I crawled into bed and settled against the pillows.

"Well, it has been a busy day."

Chris agreed as he grabbed his pyjama pants and headed to the bathroom. I picked up my phone from where I left it on the nightstand, turned off the lamp on my side of the bed and answered a few text messages from my family, figuring I may as well wait the few minutes it would take Chris to get ready for bed before I attempted to get any sleep. When Chris reappeared, I locked my phone again, put it back on the nightstand and snuggled down under the blankets, trying not to stare too much at his chiselled torso. He wasted no time turning off the lamp on his side as well before slipping in next to me, shivering dramatically as he pulled the blankets up over his chest.

"It's so freakin' cold tonight."

I snorted a laugh, shaking my head even though I knew he wouldn't be able to see me until our eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Maybe if you put on a shirt you wouldn't feel it so much."

"Honestly," Chris started, the smirk evident in his tone despite his face still being hidden in shadow. "Usually, I just sleep naked so these pants are for your benefit."

I felt my cheeks flush as the words 'then by all means, take them off' were on the tip of my tongue. I forced them out of my mind as a long forgotten tingle rolled through my body and I focused on answering him.

"My point was that a t-shirt would provide you with extra warmth," I explained. "So, your point that you usually wear less clothing makes no sense."

The bed shifted slightly as Chris chuckled.

"Well, I can think of another thing that could provide some extra warmth."

"What?"

I felt my heart rate pick up, the blood rushing through my ears so fast that I hardly heard myself answer him as I wondered if he could possibly be implying what it seemed like he was implying.

"You." His voice was low, the same seductive tone he'd used all those years ago, and I felt my mouth go dry. "Come give me a cuddle."

For a moment, I thought I was a lot drunker than I'd realized and that I was hallucinating or in some kind of lucid dream, but that thought brought me to a different realization.

"Chris!" I whispered, my tone scolding and accusatory. "You're drunk!"

A burst of laughter came from the other side of the bed and I quickly shushed him, knowing Grayson was asleep in the room above us.

"I'm not drunk, I promise," Chris assured me as his raucous laughter came under control. "I just thought it was worth a shot. It's nice to have a little cuddle with a beautiful woman sometimes."

I felt another flush of heat run through me, but I rolled my eyes and, as I had the night before, I took a pillow and placed it between us, drawing a clear line in the sand even if that hadn't worked out so well the last time.

"Goodnight, Chris."

"Goodnight, Whitney."

I rolled over, closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

I did try. I really, really did.

But after almost ten minutes of thoughts whirring through my head, I knew it was hopeless and I turned back to face Chris. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I could see well enough to know that he was laying on his back so I carefully moved the pillow that I'd placed between us and slowly slid over towards him. I felt him tense so I knew he was awake, but he didn't question what I was doing so I continued until my head was on his chest and my arm was draped over his stomach. He stayed perfectly still, just long enough for me to start second guessing myself before he shifted slightly to put his arm around me.

We stayed like that, holding each other in silence, and I had to admit that Chris was right. It was nice to have someone to cuddle with. The physical contact was filling a hole in my touch-starved heart and I tried not to think about how fleeting of a moment it was or how things would be back to normal in the light of day. There was a strange ache in my heart at that thought and I knew I needed to get out of my head.

"Chris?" My voice was soft, just in case he'd drifted off in the last few minutes, but when he tightened his grip on me, I knew he was still awake. "Thank you for inviting me today."

"Of course." He squeezed a little tighter. "I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner."

"It's fine," I assured him, letting my hand lazily trace patterns on his skin. "You're under no obligation, you're allowed your time with Grayson without me."

"It's not about obligation. I'd never want you to spend Christmas alone even if Grayson wasn't in the picture."

"I was really dreading it."

My admission made me feel vulnerable as I'd spent so long trying to pretend that I wasn't bothered by the idea of a lonely holiday, but Chris didn't seem surprised.

"Really?" He questioned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The crying onto your steering wheel didn't give that away at all."

"Shut up," I mumbled, turning my face into his chest to hide my smile at his teasing. "I'm just trying to express my gratitude for your kindness."

"No gratitude is needed. It's been my pleasure having you here today and Grayson loved it."

He kissed the top of my head after he'd finished speaking and almost reflexively, I found myself stretching up and placing a soft kiss of my own against his collarbone. It felt intimate and the moment hung heavy between us. It felt right to me, but I knew instantly that I'd crossed a line. A comforting kiss on the top of my head was one thing, but what I'd done, kissing his bare chest, was inappropriate. My cheeks burned as I tilted my head up to look at him, meeting his eyes as they looked down at me. His expression was unreadable so I opened my mouth to apologize only to be completely shocked when he pressed his head forward and his lips against mine.

The shock quickly morphed into a feeling that could only be described as euphoria. There was something distantly familiar about the way his mouth moved on mine, but it felt strange and new as it wasn't exactly as I'd remembered - and I had spent more time than I'd want to admit reliving the last time we'd shared a kiss like this.

It wasn't until he pressed his tongue against my lips, in an attempt to deepen the kiss, that I snapped out of my daze.

"Chris, wait," I breathed out as I pulled away and stared up at him, my cheeks now flushed much more from excitement than embarrassment. "We shouldn't do this."

"Says who?"

The little voice in my head telling me that I'm about to ruin everything that we've worked hard to create. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but as he smirked down at me and licked his lips as if he was preparing for what was to come, I found myself incapable of logic and reason.

"Doesn't matter."

Chris hardly had time to acknowledge my answer before I dove back in for another kiss, moving to a more comfortable position as I straddled his waist.

He completely overwhelmed my senses. The inescapable scent of him surrounding me, the feel of his strong body between my thighs and the soft little sighs of enjoyment that he kept making every time our lips parted for us to take a breath. None of it was doing anything to ease the ache that was growing between my legs and my hands gripped into the sheets where they rested just above his shoulders as I pulled back to look down at him. I needed to see his face to remind myself this was really happening and who it was really happening with as it still felt so unreal.

Chris smiled up at me, his lips looking plumper already, and let his hands settle on my hips to keep me steady.

"You okay?"

I nodded and leaned down to peck his lips again before answering.

"I've never been better."

Chris' smile only widened at that confirmation and he moved his hands down to cup my bum, pressing my hips forward and giving me a moment of friction that I'd been desperately craving. I pressed myself up, pulling my upper body away from him as a gasp fell from my lips and my eyes squeezed shut. I was embarrassingly aroused from a few mere minutes of kisses, but it had been a very long time since I'd had any physical contact with a man and my body was already on fire.

I rocked my hips against the toned muscles of his abdomen, soaking in the pleasure that was radiating through me and I was debating whether it would be rude of me to continue until I reached the release that was quickly building inside me. Clearly, Chris was just as intuitive as I remembered as he let out a groan and effortlessly flipped us over so he was on top.

"Not like that," he smirked. "I've been thinking about this for too long, it's not happening like that."

I felt another flush of embarrassment as he could obviously tell what I'd been thinking about doing, but I nodded in agreement.

"But if this is really happening, we need to be quiet," I reminded him. "Everyone's sleeping."

"They're all upstairs, they won't hear," he assured me. "And Scott's on the other side of the house."

He was right, we'd be fine as long as we kept ourselves under control, but it didn't matter anyway as all my doubts disappeared when his lips pressed against my neck. I let my hands slide around his waist, resting on his toned back while his lips continued their trail down my neck and stretched the neck line of my shirt to expose my shoulder. His lips locked onto one spot just above my collarbone, sucking and nipping until I was sure there would be a bruise there in the morning.

"Chris," I gasped out, digging my fingernails into his back. "Don't leave a mark."

He backed off a bit, kissing gently against the now sensitive skin.

"It'll be easy to hide," he assured me. "And if I remember correctly, you enjoyed a few bites here and there..."

He opened his mouth to dig his teeth into my shoulder and an image flashed into my mind. A memory of me, bent over with Chris' thumb on my clit as the two fingers he had inside me stroked a particularly delicate spot. He'd placed a soft kiss on the cheek of my bum before sinking his teeth into my skin, sending me over the edge.

I couldn't help, but moan from the combination of the memory and the sensation of his teeth in my shoulder as my hips pressed up against his. Chris seemed to be spurred on by that action as he ground his hips against mine and quickly let his hands slide down to the bottom of my shirt. He lifted it up and for a moment I was lost in the bliss of the sensations he was providing, but as my shirt was raised just past my belly button, I froze.

"Wait!"

My voice firm and demanding and he immediately responded, stopping his actions and looking up to meet my eyes.

"What's wrong?"

I bit my bottom lip as I pondered how to voice my concerns. If I didn't say anything, there was a chance that we could get through this without drawing any attention to it, but I couldn't help but think it was better to point it out than have Chris notice on his own.

"I just..." I breathed out, trying to figure out how to articulate my thoughts. "I just look different now."

"What?"

Chris pulled back even further, looking down at me with genuine confusion in his eyes and my cheeks burned as I tried to puzzle out how to explain my feelings in a way that didn't make me look shockingly insecure.

"Since I had Grayson, since the last time we did this," I clarified, my cheeks burning as I brought my flaws to his attention. "I look different. Like, I have stretch marks and my boobs aren't as perky as they used to be."

Even in the dark shadows of the room, I could see Chris' jaw clench as it did when he was annoyed and trying to bite his tongue. Panic flooded through me as I wished I'd kept my mouth shut, but his next words astounded me.

"Get outta here," he huffed. "You think I care about that?"

I dropped my gaze to the tattoos on his chest as I regretted ever opening my mouth.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Lots of men probably would."

Chris moved back, slowly sliding his body down, away from mine and I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop him and hold him against me as long as I could, but I was powerless to do anything, but watch. My heart sank, thinking he was going to roll off of me any minute now, but then he stopped. His face was level with my lower stomach and turned his eyes back towards my face.

"This body," he started, placing a kiss on my stomach. "This stomach, these stretch marks." He kissed the faint lines that were now barely visible on my skin despite how vibrant they were in my mind. Then he continued up, lifting my shirt as he went until it was resting above my breasts, my nipples hard from the chill in the air and the anticipation I was feeling. "These boobs." He kissed and nipped at the delicate skin, tracing all the way along until he captured a nipple in his mouth, teasing it briefly with his tongue. "They changed because you gave me my son, the greatest gift you could have given me. I have nothing, but gratitude for that and you're still the most fuckin' beautiful woman I've ever seen."

He was exaggerating. I knew he was exaggerating. He saw and worked with Hollywood's most elite actresses and models, there was no chance that I was even close to the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. But he managed, again, to push all doubts from my mind as his lips set to work, this time focusing on my left nipple while he shifted his weight and freed a hand to stroke and pinch the right.

They were sensitive, they always had been, and the way that Chris was working them right now was almost too much. My head fell back and my hands dropped to the sheets as I tried to focus on enjoying the sensations and not immediately demanding for Chris to move lower, to give me more, to touch me where I wanted to be touched with increasing need. He was always paying attention though and before I even needed to voice my request, he let his mouth slip from my nipple and trail back down my stomach.

He nipped at the skin just above my pyjama pants before hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down. I tugged my shirt over my head at the same time before laying back against the pillow, completely naked underneath him.

"Beautiful."

He'd muttered the word, almost more to himself than to me, but the sincerity in his voice flooded a new kind of warmth through my body. I tried to push it down, focusing on what we were doing, what this was and all it could be. Because yes, I loved Chris, but this wasn't that. This wasn't making love, this was a simple release of sexual tension. I didn't need my feelings getting in the way and making this complicated or I was going to get myself hurt.

I'd been so lost in my head that I hadn't noticed how my legs had fallen apart for Chris to settle between them or how he'd spread me with his fingers, opening me up for him to enjoy. It wasn't until I felt a slow, gentle lick right over my clit that I snapped back into the moment. With a gasp, my hips pressed up to meet his mouth, trying frantically to keep the friction now that it was finally there.

"Easy," Chris warned me, chuckling as he pulled back slightly, earning a whine from me. "We'll get you there, don't worry."

A feeling of desperation was building up inside of me and as he blew gently on the very sensitive parts of me that were in front of him, I was about ready to start begging.

"Please," I whimpered, moving my hand to his hair in case he got any bright ideas about pulling back any further, but I was relieved when he let out a groan and finally gave up on his teasing.

Suddenly I was aware of nothing, but Chris' mouth on me. My back arched as he licked up from the bottom of my core to the top, swirling his tongue around, exploring every little nook and cranny before settling his focus back on my clit. It was like he'd studied me, like he'd committed our previous brief encounter to memory and remembered exactly what I responded to as he licked and sucked with just the right amount of pressure and speed to have me panting as my grip tightened in his hair.

It had only been moments, but I could already feel the pressure building inside me, bubbling closer towards the surface. Chris, as if sensing this, eased off just slightly to slide his tongue a bit lower, pressing it against my entrance, dipping just barely inside, before replacing it with one of his fingers. I felt myself clench at the sensation, my body desperate for relief, desperate for something more inside me and Chris obliged, adding a second finger almost immediately.

"So wet, baby," he hummed, placing a kiss on the inside of my upper thigh.

I was too wrapped up in my own pleasure to formulate any kind of response, but Chris didn't bother waiting for one anyway before putting his lips back on my clit. The combination of his fingers and his mouth had me seeing stars and another whimpered plea slipped from my lips as he flicked his tongue against me. He was focused and determined, groaning against me after a particularly sharp tug on his hair when he angled his fingers inside me to find that one particular spot that made me see stars.

He stroked it once. Then twice. And on the third that coil that had been tightening inside me snapped. I covered my mouth with my free hand just in time to bite down and muffle the scream that Chris pulled from me as my hips thrust up towards him and I spasmed around his fingers as I fell over the edge.

Chris coaxed me through it, easing his attentions as I came down from the high I was feeling. He slid his fingers out of me, looking up to meet my eyes before licking them clean. I groaned, feeling myself twitch with arousal at the sight despite my heart still racing from the orgasm I had just had. He flashed me a smirk before crawling up my body and pressing his lips against mine again.

I sighed happily into the kiss, letting my hands slide down his back, just teasing the top of his pants as I reluctantly separated our mouths.

"Take these off."

My tone left little room for argument and Chris looked down at me with a smirk.

"Yes, ma'am."

He lifted his body off of mine just long enough for me to shiver from the loss of the warmth he was providing, but he quickly returned once his pants were discarded. He stayed slightly lower when he returned, turning his attention back to my chest, taking my left nipple in his mouth this time and using his hand to tease the other. My eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, but I fought the urge to simply lie back and let him do what he wanted with me. I wanted more, I needed more and I didn't want to wait any longer.

"Chris," I whined. "Please, fuck me."

Looking down, I could see his eyes widen in surprise at my blunt demand. He let his mouth slip off my nipple before giving it one last little nip, just hard enough to make me gasp from the slight twinge of pain.

"As you wish."

He reached down between us, taking a moment to slip his two fingers back inside me. He spread them out, gently stretching me and I was grateful. From my memory, Chris was thick and it had been approximately three years and five months since I last had sex (not that I was counting).

Once Chris was satisfied that I was adequately prepared, he pulled his fingers back and guided the tip of his cock towards my entrance. I tried to relax as he slowly stretched me open, but even as my mind revelled in the bliss I was feeling, a thought hit me that made my eyes widen and body stiffen.

"Chris!" I gasped out, gripping his shoulders to push him away slightly. "Condom!"

His head dropped down and he grunted as if he was using the last of his restraint to pull out of me.

"Shit," he cursed. "How could we forget that again?"

"I guess we don't learn from our mistakes," I smiled, despite the pang in my heart as the voice in my head chimed in again to say 'clearly not or you wouldn't be about to fuck him and break your own heart again'. "Do you have one?"

Chris nodded, rolling off me for just long enough to reach over to the bedside table. He pulled one out of the drawer, ripped it open and slid it on with impressive speed before crawling back over me.

"Now," he smirked. "Where were we?"

He looked down as he guided himself inside me again. The initial stretch wasn't as intense the second time around, but it grew as he pushed deeper and my breath hitched once he was fully inside. Chris stilled, sensing my discomfort as he dropped his head to kiss along my jaw until his lips rested just below my ear.

"You good?"

"Mhmm," I nodded, breathing out and shifting my hips as I started to adjust. We stayed like that, connected but still, for a few moments until I felt the tension ease a bit. "You can move."

"You sure?" Chris looked at me with concern on his face, but I nodded.

That was all the reassurance he needed as he began slowly moving his hips. He pulled his lips back from where they rested near my ear and pressed them against mine.

He kissed me deeply, passionately, as he created a steady rhythm, sliding in and out with his hips pressing hard against mine with each thrust. His biceps bulged and strained to support his weight through the movement and he eventually let his mouth fall away from mine as he could no longer hold back a groan. That noise, and the grunts that followed, made me twitch around him as if my body was doing everything it could to keep him inside me, to keep the pleasure that it had been craving for so long.

I could feel him dragging against every inch inside me, brushing against every nerve and stretching me just enough to keep me constantly impressed by how big he was. It was somehow too much, but not enough all at the same time and I hitched my leg higher up on his waist to help him get closer, deeper, if at all possible.

"Good girl..."

Chris' words hummed encouragingly against my collarbone where he placed another soft kiss before pulling back. He placed his hand on the back of my knee and lifted it even higher, opening me up for him even more.

My head dropped back against the pillow on the next stroke as his cock slid against that delicious spot inside me where his fingers had been only minutes before. He was watching, looking down between us to see me wrapped around him, see me taking him all the way every time he pushed in. I could hear him mumbling praises, compliments about how well I was doing, but I was too far gone, too wrapped up in the pleasure emanating from between my legs to do anything, but moan in response.

He slowed for a moment, leaning down, my leg catching on his shoulder and pressing it even higher as he reminded me to be quiet. He nipped my ear lobe, pulling a whimper from my lips before moving back and picking his pace up again. I knew he was right, but it was hard, next to impossible even, to hold back the noises that were bubbling in my throat.

I bit my lip and dug my nails into his skin as I attempted to control my volume and silently cursed Chris when he shifted his weight just enough to put the pressure of each thrust back on just the right spot. He moved his thumb down to brush over my clit, but it barely took a few strokes for me to fly over the edge.

It felt like my whole world exploded as I clenched around him, a low moan slipping past the lip between my teeth. The tingle ripped through every part of my body, every muscle quivering with pleasure, as Chris picked up the pace even more, with one final burst of speed until he stilled, letting out a deep, rumbling groan of his own before pumping in and out a few final times.

Once he'd stopped his movements completely, he let my leg lower to the bed, collapsing against my chest as he fought to catch his breath. I drifted my hand up to stroke the damp hairs on the back of his neck and soaked in the blissful feeling, a feeling I'd dreamt about since the last time I had the pleasure of enjoying it.

We stayed like that for a few moments until Chris reluctantly pulled back, letting out a soft groan as he slid out of me.

"I'll be right back."

I admired Chris' ability to walk already as all I had the strength to do was nod and shift back to my side of the bed. When Chris reappeared a few minutes later after disposing of the condom in the bathroom, I could barely keep my eyes open. He climbed back under the blankets and shifted over towards me until he could pull me right against his chest with our legs intertwined.

"That was nice," I sighed happily, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms as I nuzzled my nose into his toned pecs.

They shook as he chuckled and a giggle slipped from my lips as well.

"It was," he agreed, kissing the top of my head the same way he had at the start of this little rendezvous.

There was a heaviness in the air, the underlying unspoken words and the conversation that needed to be had hung between us, but I couldn't bring myself to ruin the moment. I'd spent so much time thinking about this, what it would be like to be in his arms again, I couldn't bare to say anything that might make him pull away and snap out of the moment of insanity we'd slipped into.

So, I didn't and neither did he. With one final, gentle kiss goodnight, we stayed tightly in our embrace until we drifted off into a contented sleep.

Part Three

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #chris evans smut #once bitten twice shy

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cannibal-witchh · 4 years

Text

🖤Brahms Heelshire🖤

Written by cannibal_witchh

Contains: Sexual Elements, Sub/dom behavior

Notes: I've struggled to write and this was a quick piece I did tonight. It might have errors or not be as polished as desired but I wanted to get another fanfic out. This is portraying a slightly submissive Brahms with a dominant female reader. It's not accurate at all to the movie so just be open minded to what happens! Thanks again for reading.

The walls and floor boards creaked loudly throughout the stretched corridor. It was another rainy night, rain persisted over England for days. Drenching the garden that surrounded the Heelshire home, glistening the stone walls, trailing down the windows, and rattling the home each time it thundered. You didn't have an opposition towards it, the rain wasn't a disturbance to you. In fact, it was more of a sound that relaxed your racing mind, the drumming of the rain along the large home made the silence vanish. It made the home feel less large and empty.

You laid in your bed, resting on your side and watching the rain fall down your windows. Trees in the distance swaying, and flowers glistening with gems of precipitation. You felt restless tonight, perhaps it was how cold the house had been since the weather decided to be wet and gray. You shivered under your thin comforter, hugging yourself and pulling the sheets as close to you as possible.

Abruptly, the floor boards creaked again and you drew you head to the sound near the door. "Brahms?", you sleepily muttered watching him sheepishly shuffle under the doorframe. " Has the thunder got you startled?", you tossed over to your opposite side to face him. He shyly shoved his hands in the pockets of his cardigan and nodded at you. His loose dark curls bouncing infront of his big eyes. A flash and crackle boomed throughout the house, Brahms jumped and his eyes widened with worry. He quickly scurried towards you, his eyes now locked on the floor, and his hands still hidden in his cardigan. From his little gestures you could read he was embarrassed from being this anxious. " Brahms, come here.", you beckoned lifting the sheets to welcome him under. "It's cold anyways, I'd appreciate the warmth." You flashed a gentle smile to him, and he quietly got under the sheets with you. You pulled the sheets over him, his eyes fixed on you, your little movements causing him to flinch. " Relax, everything is ok. I won't let anything harm you. Just like you won't let anything hurt me, right Brahms?", you pulled the covers over him and brought your arm to drape over his chest. His heart was racing and beating against your arm. He was absolutely worked up. He continued to stare at you but managed to motion a nod. His shakey arm stretching out to wrap around you to allow you closer to him. You were so close to him, inhaling his musky aroma. He didn't smell foul, just a little sweaty from all his built up anxiety. You moved your leg over his waist, and as you brought it over you felt a growing erection. It twitched against the side of your calf as you brushed over it. "Brahms?", his eyes moved away from your's, you were certain he felt relief being hidden under a mask. You felt a presence of humiliation linger from him. " Brahms, are you excited? We just started cuddling too, silly boy.", you groaned tiredly. Brahms nodded and continued looking away at the decorated walls. " Are you wanting to play Brahms?", you nuzzled your face against his sweaty neck. " Mhmm...", he nodded quickly.

Moments had past, the next minute Brahms was standing beside the bed undressing himself infront of you. You laid on your back in your panties and an oversized shirt. You heard the jingle of his belt as he unfastened it, his pants and boxer briefs dropping to his ankles. He then removed his cardigan and lifted his shirt above his shoulders off. " My, you are a naughty boy, Brahms. Such a little pervert just from some quick cuddling.", you glanced at his cock. It was generous in size and slightly curved. Brahms quickly shot his hands to cover himself, and looked away from you again. " Brahms, don't hide yourself from me. You're such a good boy, come to me and show it to me. Let's play.", you playfully flirted, signaling him to return to the bed. He slowly dropped his hands away from his fully erect member, he brought himself back to the bed, and began to slowly crawl to you until he was between your legs. Your foot stopped under his chin, gently lifting his face up to look at you. His nervous wide eyes staring at you, his messy curls falling down his mask. " Sweet boy, look at me. There's no reason to hide your pretty eyes from me.", you giggled bringing another little smile on your face to assure him to relax. " Do you still want to play, Brahms?", he quickly nodded and brought his hands to your panties. His long fingers hooking under your panties and prying them off you. " Eager, I like it. ", you praised him, his hands clenching the panties and bringing them to his nose. He inhaled loudly through his mask, smelling your scent, his cock twitching from the excitement. Brahms had a problem with your panties, it become a habit for him to constantly carry your's in his pockets to smell when he was away from you. Although, even when he was near you, he felt drawn to still smell them. It intoxicated him, and delivered him immense excitement.

" Silly boy, if you keep taking them, I won't have anymore to wear."

He hid the panties under the pillow he would rest on, not breaking eye contact, he pulled your shirt over your arms and off you. Your breasts exposed to him, nipples hardening and growing sensitive from the cold and the arousal. " Touch me, Brahms." You desperately demanded, as you watched him cock his head to the side, examining your body, his intense eyes bubbling with dark desires. His large hands slid slowly along the shape your body, raising goosebumps on your skin. He traced along your breasts as his hands cupped tightly around them. Squeezing and squishing them between his fingers. A quiet moan escaped your lips, his eyes immediately flashed and his head perked up. Brahms enjoyed when you moaned, he lived for the sounds of your approving pleasure. His hands loosened its grip on your sensitive chest, his fingers tracing along your shape until they met your nipples. His fingers gently tugging against them as you let out low moans. For a few seconds he focused on your nipples, pinching and pulling at them, hungrily trying to make you squirm and moan. Heavy panting crawled from under his mask, and arousal made his chest to rise and fall. " Brahms, don't make me wait any longer. I need you inside me, I want you.", your hands lightly swatted his hands off your chest as you stared into his needy eyes. For a brief moment, you caught a glimpse of his eyes before looking away. His eyes looks like they were starving, like he was predator stalking his prey and finally making his move to devour.

Brahms nodded to your demanded, his massive hands gripping your hips and dragging you towards him. He guided himself, gently tracing the edge of his cock against your wet slit. He brushed lightly against it for a few seconds before he pushed himself inside you. His cock slowly filling you, a moan escaped him, as he buried himself completely inside your warmth. You let out a heavy breath as you felt your body grow incredibly flush. "Oh, Brahms...", you sighed. He began to move his hips, a slow pace at first, and then it began to gradually get faster. His hand gripped tightly into your hip, the other quickly drew to your neck, gently gripping it, and holding your head against the bed. His hips thrusting hard into you, and his cock sliding in and out of you rapidly. You couldn't control yourself, you arched your back feeling pleasure well up inside you, constant moaning leaving you, your hands searching for loose sheets to grip. Brahms was sweating heavily, his body glistened, his neck beaded with sweat as it spread out to his chest. His hand tightening around your neck as he took away your breath. He leaned towards you, pulling your face towards him, he choked you for a few moments before releasing your neck. His eyes locked onto you, you pressed your face against his mask, kissing his nose and bring your mouth on his porcelain lips. You licked them and dragged your tongue down to his jaw and down his neck. His salty sweaty gracing the tip of your tongue.

He positioned you differently, he put you on your side, and pulled your leg around his waist and the other over his shoulder. He liked this position for some reason, and it ended alot with the two of you like this. He continued fucking you, pounding inside you without stopping his rhythm. The bed creaking loudly, his breathing getting sloppy, and your moaning growing louder. He towered over you, although, he was above you, he still submitted to you. " You're my good boy, mmm! You are making me feel so good. Am I making you feel good?", you tried to say it as clear as you could, but it was challenging with how fast he was penetrating you. He noded, as his pumping grew messy. He was close. " Sweet boy, go ahead and make yourself feel even better.", you winked as you reached over to spread your pussy infront of him. Rubbing your clit as you stared at him. "Y/N...", he groaned as he dug his hips into your body over and over. His cock fevered and twitching as it filled you. He watched as you touched yourself infront of him, his loud breathing filling the room, and his sweat dripping onto you.

You felt your climax finally build, as you continued rubbing yourself, Brahms quickly grabbed your wrist. " Brahms?", you moaned watching him lean over and pull your hands towards his face. His nose brushing against your finger tips, he inhaled your scent off your fingers. A sound of satisfaction grumbled in his throat, and he released your hand. He fucked you as deep as he could, drilling into you for a few more moments. His pace never slowing itself down.

Your body tensed up as you felt your body finally meet its along waited climax. Your arched your back, threw your head back, and moaned loudly. The pleasure scattering like dust throughout your body. Brahms came as well, he grunted loudly as his body tightened, and his hot cum filled your insides. The heat invading you and dripping out onto your thighs and sheets. He collapsed on his side beside you, gathering for several moments his breaths. "My good boy,", you smiled as you rolled onto your side to stroke his hair and pull him in your arms. " Let's rest now, my darling Brahms.", you yawned sleepily as the storm interrupted the sounds of both of your loud panting. This time, he didn't jump, instead he just nuzzled his face into your chest.

#brahms heelshire #the boy #brahms heelsire x reader #slasher x reader #fanfic #brahms heelshire fanfic

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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

Text

Stumbling in your Sleep

Phic Phight prompt fill for @the-only-wife

It was the ticking sound that woke him.

Danny yawned, blinking sleep out of his eyes and stretching out his sore muscles. Looking around only served to confuse him though. He wasn’t in his room anymore, and he wasn’t downstairs either (which sometimes happened with his body’s penchant to fall through not only his bed, but the floor). He was in a large, heavily shadowed room that was on the edge of familiar, and it was taking him a moment to place it in his sleep fogged mind.

“It’s not healthy to fixate on what could have been,” came a deep, familiar voice from behind him.

Startled, Danny spun around to see Clockwork floating a few feet away. He was in his eldest form, long knitted beard and all, and was gazing past Danny towards something further in the room.

Following that gaze, Danny saw what exactly Clockwork had been talking about and flinched, flying quickly away from it and over towards the Ancient.

It was a Thermos, horridly familiar and just- sitting there on a pillow as if for display.

“How did I get here?” Danny asked, putting Clockwork between himself and that thing .

Clockwork hummed, stroking his beard a moment before slowly answering, “I suppose, the likely answer is that you were having a nightmare.” He lowered a hand to Danny’s shoulder and led him out of the room and back into a more familiar part of the clock tower. “Let’s get you some tea before I send you home, it might calm your nerves.”

Danny followed, eager for distance, before asking, “the likely answer? Does that mean you don’t know?”

“Despite what you and certain others seem to think, I am neither omniscient nor a mind reader, I cannot see into your dreams,” Clockwork said and Danny chuckled softly. “Besides, Nocturn would likely be unappreciative if I was interfering in his domain.”

“You know Nocturn?” Danny asked stopping and tugging lightly on Clockwork’s cloak so that he’d stop as well.

He did, lifting one of his eyebrows and answering with a dry tone, “of course I do, I know everyone.”

Because of course he did. It wasn’t like he didn’t just tell Danny that he wasn’t omniscient, that was clearly a different skill set to someone as determined to be mysterious as Clockwork. Danny found himself wondering if the intrigue surrounding the older ghost was not mostly of his own creation, an attempt at seeming aloof and beyond comprehension while simultaneously laughing behind everyone else’s backs.

A wash of amusement filtered through the ambient ectoplasm of Clockwork’s lair and Danny scowled up at him, “I thought you weren’t a mind reader?”

Clockwork tried to hide his smile, unsuccessfully, and nodded, “I do not need to be, to hear the accusations you make towards me,” he guided Danny to the main room of the tower where the screens were kept along with the relatively recent addition of a couch and coffee table. There was warm tea, purple and slightly glowing, already waiting for them.

“So I’m right then? You are just messing with us all the time?” Danny grabbed his own cup, dubious, Clockwork wouldn’t poison him right? He would know whether a half ghost could drink something if anyone did.

If Danny was expecting an answer, he’d be dissapointed, but when a ghost spent enough time with the mysterious Ancient it became increasingly clear that straight answers were not something they would get in large supply. So instead he rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea, Clockwork could be as obnoxious as he wanted after saving Danny’s family like he did.

The least Danny could do in return, was accept his eccentricities.

“Do you remember your dream?” Clockwork asked and Danny shook his head. There were bits and pieces, sure. Certain emotions and feelings that flashed to the surface when he closed his eyes or tried to think about it. He’d never been good at trying to recall something once he was awake, and despite Jazz once offering to buy him a dream journal to ‘help him decode his inner turmoils’ he’d never felt the need to try and change that.

He sighed into his tea, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I know you’re busy.” There was no way he was going to get a decent amount of sleep now, especially since he’d have to fly all the way home first and he didn’t even know how late it already was.

Clockwork’s lips twitched slightly upwards, “Daniel you’ve never once cared before how busy I am when you’ve come to visit,” Danny flinched, well he wasn’t wrong , “and besides, I quite enjoy your company. It’s no trouble at all.”

“Ah,” Danny didn’t know how to react to that, he was pretty sure he was nothing but trouble, especially with a certain future of his locked up in that other part of the clock tower they’d been in, “thanks?”

His host sighed, taking the time to sip his own eerily glowing tea. The silence stretched, but not uncomfortably and Danny found himself starting to drift towards sleep again, the struggle to try and keep his eyes pried open quickly becoming a losing one.

That was probably his cue to leave, as nice as it was to just sit here and not worry about things like classes and ghost attacks, he was probably already pushing it close to the first bell at school. He stood up and Clockwork’s eyes followed, “I have to head out, thanks for the tea Clockwork. I’ll try to be more considerate the next time I drop by.”

There was a small pinch between Clockwork’s brows, something he wasn’t saying or that Danny wasn’t hearing. “I’d rather you didn’t,” he assured and Danny let out a chuckle. He’d probably respond with something equally sarcastic, if not quite as dry, if he wasn’t so tired.

Clockwork seemed to be of the same mind, “Daniel, when was the last time you slept through the night?” He asked it as a question, as if he didn’t already know. Then again, maybe Danny was giving himself too much credit, it was entirely possible Clockwork didn’t waste his incredible power watching to see if Danny bothered to sleep at night.

“Yesterday,” Danny lied, a yawn built behind his jaw as if to discredit him but Danny held it back stubbornly. It didn’t seem to work though, as Clockwork’s lips tightened. He looked over at his screens, eyes flicking quickly over each one while his fingers tapped a steady rhythm against his staff. That, combined with the gentle ticking of clocks and general comforting atmosphere of the other ghost’s lair was making it more and more difficult for Danny to keep his eyes open.

He flinched awake fully as a hand shook his shoulder, shit, did he fall asleep standing up?

“Daniel,” Clockwork’s hand was still on his shoulder, practically holding him up at this point, “you can always sleep here.”

Danny shook his head, “I don’t have time-”

“Daniel,” Clockwork interrupted, his expression flat.

Oh right.

“I don’t want to…” he tried, “It’s just, you already help me all the time, you’ve fixed so many of my stupid mistakes and-” and Danny was tired of being a burden. He was tired in general, but ancients was he tired of that specifically.

He was tired of seeing his friends lose sleep to help him as back up, he was tired of constantly having to go behind his parents backs and lie to their faces he was tired of watching as Jazz’s once perfect grades started slipping just enough because of all the time she spent helping Danny with his and he was especially tired of knowing that he wasn’t worth the effort in the first place.

Not if he could turn into that .

But Clockwork didn’t let go of his shoulder, in fact, he pulled him closer into a hug, a real, full hug like the ones he used to get from his parents before they started wearing their weapons and he was scared to get near them. “I’d rather you slept here than wandered around the realms half asleep. Who knows where you’d end up,” he said, speaking gently into Danny’s hair.

“You would,” Danny said before losing the battle against another yawn and relaxing fully into Clockwork’s arms. “You know everything. Can I really sleep here?”

“Of course,” Clockwork released him, leaving one hand on Danny’s back to guide him to a staircase he hadn’t ever noticed before. Just how big was this clock tower anyways?

The room Clockwork took him to was a little bigger than the one he had at home and nothing like what Danny had expected. Most of the tower was colored with dark purples and muted greens, with the occasional brush of silver or brass from the multitude of gears and cogs that littered the floors and walls. This room however, was full of dark blues and greys, a swirling galaxy floating above a single full sized bed that Danny easily sunk into when Clockwork led him to it.

He blinked up at the stars, they were perfectly accurate to the night sky above Amity Park if it didn’t have the light pollution and had to stop himself from counting every constellation rendered there in perfect detail or he’d fall asleep just like that without even bothering to thank Clockwork for offering to stop time for him.

“You made me a room.” It should have been obvious, of course, but Danny hadn’t fully processed what the room and it’s decorations meant until he’d said it out loud and Clockwork didn’t even try to deny it.

Clockwork fazed the blankets through Danny in order to pull them over him properly, tucking him in. Danny was almost tempted to ask for a bedtime story, just to see how he’d react. “Yes, I made you a room.”

Danny frowned, he didn’t understand, “why?”

“I suppose it’s a bit of an excuse to have you visit more often,” Clockwork said, ruffling his hair before sitting at the foot of the bed, “and an offer for you to get some proper sleep before you sleepwalk into someone else’s lair and I have to fight for custody.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny mumbled into the pillow, his eyes drifting shut.

The last thing he heard before he drifted off was a soft chuckle and a gentle reassurance that he needn’t worry about anything like that just yet. Maybe, if someone like Clockwork could see the absolute worst of Danny, the monster he could become, and still care enough to make him a room and be sure he slept, then maybe Danny couldn’t be as terrible a burden as he thought. Surely Clockwork, who could see all the futures stretched out below him like a parade, wouldn’t waste his efforts if he didn’t think Danny was worth the time.

He dreamed of stars and ticking clocks and didn’t worry for once about how soon he’d have to wake up.

#Danny phantom #Clockwork #lost time #Phic Phight #phic phight 21 #a nice short one to make up for the last one #short and sweet #bee’s writing

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whatisthiswritingthing · 4 years

Text

Start of Something New - Lindsey Horan x Reader

A look into Lindsey’s growth after her time in France.

Note: might be a little cliche with the podcast having just come out, so let me know...

By now in Lindsey’s career, most people knew about her time in France, they knew the general story; how she was body shamed by coaches and staff, how she overtrained, or how dangerously restricted her diet became while there.

Very few people knew the extent it affected her though or how even so many years later the impact and power it held over her mental health. Most people didn’t take the time to notice it or maybe Lindsey had just gotten really good at hiding it, good at pretending it didn’t still have this control on her.

Y/N wasn’t anything like anyone else she had ever met though. The things she saw, the things she noticed, they weren’t things anyone else ever noticed. Y/N would drop an apple or granola bar onto her bag when Lindsey wouldn’t eat enough that morning. Would offer to be her running partner when Lindsey felt she hadn’t worked hard enough in training. When she smiled, Y/N always knew if it was genuine, saw the way her eyes squinted because her smile was so large, her dimples on full display. Y/N knew the way her eyes would shine when Lindsey spoke about those she cared about, her family making then shine brighter.

Lindsey loved how shy Y/N got around her, how deep her blush turned when they would make eye contact. It made Lindsey feel powerful in a way she couldn’t explain, her confidence skyrocketing that she could make Y/N react that way without even trying, that all it took was smile.

They started as friends, subtle friends. Their friendship didn’t require them to be bus buddies or sit at the same tables for meals or spend days off together. But Y/N was always there for Lindsey, watching, observing, knowing. She would check in on Lindsey, bring her a water bottle during breaks, drop an extra dessert she knew was Lindsey’s favourite at meals, letting her squeeze her hand during acupuncture.

The midfielder knew she would need to be the one to make the push the shy girl. But even though Y/N made her feel confident and powerful, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything more than smile. Because while she felt confident, Lindsey couldn’t let her past go, couldn’t let the insecurities so engrained fade. So, she didn’t. Didn’t push, didn’t encourage.

But Y/N stuck around, continued to remind Lindsey of how great she was in the small things. And she never expected anything in return, a full dimpled smile more than enough.

That was all Lindsey ever needed. All she ever wanted, desired, craved. Someone to be patient, to understand, to care and accept her for who she is, who she was, who she had been and no longer was. To be aware of her history of emotional abuse, her body dysmorphia, and never expect her to be fine when she wasn’t.

Y/N’s patience and stubbornness was what got them to where they were now, a fresh and shiny new relationship. They had walked up to their shared room after a photo shoot for the release of the new kits and Lindsey was quiet the entire walk up. As soon as they walked into the room, Lindsey had pulled the new kit off and pulled her biggest sweater and sweatpants she could, burrowing herself under the comforter.

Y/N moved gently throughout the room, she glanced at the silent blonde in the bed, Lindsey faced the wall in front of her, eyes squeezed shut.

It was only four in the afternoon, but Y/N turned off the lights, rummaged through her bag, before setting her phone up to stream to the TV and then settling onto the bed next to Lindsey, remaining on top of the covers.

Y/N sat silent while she pulled up The Office, scrolling until she found one of Lindsey’s favourite episodes. Lindsey sniffled, and pulled the sheets tighter to her face. Y/N glanced towards her but didn’t say anything. A couple more minutes of silence and Lindsey slowly shuffled backwards under the sheet, stopping when her back touched Y/N’s thigh.

“Is this alright?” Lindsey mumbled into the sheet.

“Of course, Linds,” Y/N reassured her, twisted slightly, tucking the sheet under Lindsey’s chin.

Lindsey reached out from the sheet and blindly patted around for Y/N’s hands. Y/N saw the hand and took it in her own, letting Lindsey pull it under her own chin. The midfielder played with Y/N’s fingers before slowly rolling over, head sitting on the pillow next to Y/N’s hip. There was space between them now, but Y/N made sure her body language was open and inviting, arm up on the pillow, legs uncrossed.

The midfielder squeezed her eyes shut again, tears leaking out now. Y/N was being so patient with her, was physically opening herself up to Lindsey. She shuffled herself closer again, nose pressing into Y/N’s side, hand stretching up to play with the strings on her hoodie.

Y/N slowly brought her arm down, resting her hand closer to Lindsey’s shoulder, but still not touching her.

Lindsey smiled when she felt the vibration of Y/N giggling at the show. She shifted herself closer again, lifting her head to rest on Y/N’s hip.

“Is this alright?” Lindsey asked again, her voice muffled by Y/N’s sweater.

“Of course, Linds,” Y/N smiled, reassuring her again. Lindsey smiled to herself, her body flushing, she couldn’t believe Y/N was allowing her to do this, was allowing her to come to her as she needed, as she was ready. Y/N was handling her the way someone would handle a kicked puppy, soft and tentative, letting them come to her, letting Lindsey feel safe on her own terms.

Lindsey reached up again, searching for Y/N’s hand to guide it to rest on her shoulder, after placing it, she went back to playing with the sweater strings.

“I hate photo shoot days,” Lindsey started, voice tinged with frustration, “and new gear days. It’s the same every time. See what fits and doesn’t fit, see how everyone looks so fucking good in everything. And then there’s me,” she began to trail off.

Y/N gently scratched her nails into the fabric of Lindsey sweater, the dull pressure easing her mind, shuffling herself even closer.

“What about you Lindsey?” Y/N whispered, taking one of the sweater strings and flopping it to hit Lindsey in the face.

Lindsey scrunched her nose at the action, letting out a sigh, “Then there’s me, I look ridiculous, nothing fucking fits well,” her grip tightened on the fabric on her chest, “I, just, fuck-“

She cut herself off, frustrated tears beginning to leak out, turning her head to try and hide them against Y/N’s stomach.

“Can I tell you something Lindsey?” Y/N asked softly, hand shifting up to scratch into the baby hairs at the base of Lindsey’s skull. She waited until she felt a small nod against her stomach before she continued, “if you need me to stop, tell me or tap me, something to let me know if I go too far, ok?” she waited for another nod before starting.

The way Y/N said it so delicately, but with so much conviction, Lindsey had no doubt Y/N would stop as soon as Lindsey wanted her to.

“You are Lindsey Horan. And you are so much more than any number on a scale, on a jersey,” Y/N started to list, pausing when she felt Lindsey’s sharp intake of breath, when she didn’t ask to stop right away, she continued, “you are more than soccer statistic, body measurements, clothing sizes, or calories. You are more. You are this,” she tapped a single finger to Lindsey’s forehead, “and this,” she slid her hand down, pushing it between their bodies and rested her palm above Lindsey’s heart.

Y/N paused and let Lindsey process what she said, waiting to make sure she hadn’t crossed the line. Lindsey could feel more tears building, she tightened her grip but didn’t pull away. Y/N pulled her hand out from between them, Lindsey’s hand latched on before it could get too far away.

“Shh, hey, I’m not going anywhere,” Y/N guided their hands back to her chest, letting Lindsey twist her fingers around the strings again, leaving her own resting on top of her wrist.

“You are Lindsey Horan,” Y/N started again, tapping a finger on her wrist as she said her name, “you are strong and resilient, and you have not let your past define you or control you; you grew from it and continue to prove every single one of them wrong and show everyone how incredibly powerful you are. Lindsey, I could go on and on for all the things that you are that aren’t physical. Because you are one of the most dynamic, unbelievable people I have ever met.”

Y/N stopped again when she could feel Lindsey’s grip tighten again, she kept her eyes on Lindsey, watching for any additional discomfort.

Lindsey shifted, turning her head so she could meet Y/N’s eyes. She could see how earnest and genuine Y/N was looking at her, that everything she had just told her she fully believed to be accurate and true, just pure honesty.

“And every time I see this smile and this dimple,” Y/N moved her hand to rub her thumb over it when Lindsey gave her a small smile, “I can’t help but smile with you, your happiness is contagious.”

Lindsey began to move herself against Y/N, when Y/N felt the movement, she lifted both hands to let Lindsey move freely. She pulled herself up until her length matched Y/N’s and pressed herself up on her palm. Y/N let Lindsey adjust herself as she needed, deciding what she was comfortable with. Lindsey felt too big to rest herself on Y/N like she wanted, like her size was too much for Y/N, regardless of everything she said already.

Sensing Lindsey’s hesitancy, Y/N slowly brought a hand to rest on her ribs. The pair made eye contact, Y/N could see the vulnerability shining in Lindsey’s eyes, the trust she was giving her with this position. Lindsey tensed when she felt the hand on her side.

“It’s ok Lindsey,” Y/N whispered, hand closing around the loose fabric of sweater. She held it until she felt Lindsey slowly relax, when she did, she gently tugged on it, pulling her body to rest on top of her.

Lindsey kept her eyes locked on Y/N’s, watching to make sure her size wasn’t too much, that weight wasn’t making Y/N uncomfortable.

“It’s ok,” Y/N repeated. Lindsey finally let her body settle fully on top of Y/N’s, she remained tense for several minutes. Y/N kept her hand curled in the sweater, holding her, ensuring she felt safe and heard and seen, then slowly wrapping her other arm around Lindsey’s waist.

Neither said anything after that. Y/N didn’t move, letting Lindsey take the comfort she desired, needed, craved. And Lindsey took it, gradually slowing her breathing and eventually falling asleep.

After that, things just were. They didn’t talk about it; they didn’t define it. Y/N continued to offer her silent support, Lindsey eagerly taking it all. Y/N never expecting anything in return.

A month of it, of them just being, of Y/N being a pillar of support for Lindsey, she found herself curled up on Y/N’s chest again. Neither saying anything, Lindsey having just slid wordlessly onto Y/N.

Lindsey had never felt this comfortable, this safe, with anyone. She knew she wanted, needed, it to be more than what was now between them.

“Y/N?” Lindsey started tentatively, playing with the strings of the other woman’s sweater.

“What’s up?” Y/N tucked a stray hair behind Lindsey’s ear, earning a small smile, settling some of her nerves.

“I’m not imagining this, right? There’s more than just us being friends here,” she looked away, focusing on her fingers twirling the sweater strings.

Y/N flattened her hand, fingers curling around the back of her neck, thumb rubbing across Lindsey’s cheek, “you’re not imagining anything Lindsey. I like you Lindsey, but I am willing to wait however long you need. I am willing to always give you the swirl off my soft serve ice cream because that’s your favourite part. I’m willing to accept you’re wrong and get pineapple on pizza. I’m willing to sleep on the right side of the bed because you prefer the left.”

“I am ready,” Lindsey cut her off, pressing a finger to her lips.

And it was that easy. They didn’t need to complicate it. They defined it, established what they wanted. Y/N smiled wide at Lindsey, grabbing her wrist, Y/N teasingly nipped at the finger on her lips before gently kissing it.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #lindsey horan x reader #lindsey horan imagines #lindsey horan imagine

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kats-alcove · 3 years

Text

Finders Keepers: Chapter 2

ch.1|ch. 2|ch. 3|ch.4

Pairing: Hawks x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smutty smut, heavy-ish angst.

Summary: After 5 years, you’ve found him: your best friend, the love of your life: Keigo Takami But the shadows of your past are looming closer, and chasing them can lead to unexpected discoveries.

Read it on AO3 here!

A/N: Thank you to intense-socks for sending in the ask that gave me the kick in the pants I needed to finish this chapter!

“When you said apartment I didn't think you meant the whole building!”

You stood in the entryway of Keigo’s house: penthouse, more accurately. His living quarters took up the entire top floor of a skyscraper in Fukuoka, a few blocks down from his agency. The apartment was spacious, consisting of an open living room, kitchen, and dining area, with an office, bedroom, and master bath. It was exactly the kind of living quarters you would expect the Number 2 Hero to have.

Balconies were visible through the glass that made up the exterior walls, which made sense. Keigo didn't seem like the type to take the stairs when he could just fly. Apparently, the exterior walls of the entire place were windows, though Keigo had demonstrated that they could be turned opaque with the push of a button. You had bushed when he had winked at you, implying under exactly which circumstances the two of you might need privacy.

Right now, they were clear, giving you an excellent view of the sunset. It had taken you several hours to reach the city, even in a high-speed bullet train. The trip had been anything but boring, though. Keigo had indeed rented a private car, and the two of you had spent the entire trip keeping each other company. While it wasn't something you had been expecting, you could now cross ‘sex on a train’ off your list of things to try.

Keigo plucked a bag from your hand, startling you. “You can leave your bags in the closet. C’mon, I’ll show you.”

He led you back to the bedroom, where you gasped again when you saw the size of his bed. It was huge, easily able to hold four people while leaving room between. The sheets were a dark grey, accented by red and gold pillows. Overall, the effect was masculine but still a little flashy, exactly what you’d expect from Keigo.

“Geez, this is big,” you muttered, running your hand over the duvet. “Do you have a roommate or three I don't know about?”

Keigo laughed. “Nah, I just like to be able to spread out sometimes, you know?”

Dropping your bag on the floor, he flopped backwards onto the mattress in a puff of red feathers. Your giggle was quickly cut off by a surprised squeak when a couple of those feathers looped around you. They yanked you forward, making you lose your grip on your remaining suitcase. You were pulled onto the bed, into Keigo’s waiting arms. He wrapped you in a hug, nuzzling into your neck and encouraging you to do the same with a hand on the back of your head.

“Keigo? Kei, the bags?” you tried to sit up, but he was too strong.

With a disgruntled huff, Keigo rolled you beneath him. “I’ve got the bags, kid.”

Two feathers shot off from his wings towards the floor, presumably to deposit your luggage in the closet. Satisfied that the necessary things had been taken care of, you allowed yourself to return Keigo’s affection. Looping an arm around his shoulders, you played with the soft baby hairs at the base of his neck.

“How do you get your hair so soft?” you mused, half to yourself.

“I have a special conditioner.” Keigo pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “You can use it too, if you want. You can use anything in this apartment, for that matter.”

You smirked, looking up at Keigo and tightening your grip on his hair. “Anything?”

“Mmnh,” Keigo grunted, pressing his body closer to yours. “Yeah, you naughty baby bird. Anything.”

Your smirk widened into a grin as you pulled Keigo down into a much firmer kiss. He groaned, mouth parting in silent invitation. An invitation you ignored as you instead began to pepper light kisses along the length of his jaw. You used the hand still tangled in his hair to keep him still as your lips wandered down the column of his throat.

“W-what are you doing, baby-ah!” Keigo was cut off by a nip to the side of his neck.

You soothed the bite with a swipe of your tongue. “Having fun.”

“What, was the train ride not enough fun for you?”

“Nope!”

It had, in truth, been its own kind of fun. There had been a thrill to doing such an intimate act in a place where anyone could walk in and see. Sure, Keigo had rented a private car, but the semi-public location had still had the two of you rushing to finish. It hadn't afforded you the time to do what you really wanted to do: explore every inch of Keigo’s body and commit it to memory.

Like you were doing now with his collarbone, lips tracking the ridge across his chest. Your nips and sucks drew tiny moans from Keigo’s mouth, little chirps and coos that sounded so cute you couldn't help but smile into his skin. The hand that wasn't still holding his hair slipped under the hem of his shirt, eager to feel more of him.

Keigo jolted, muttering something about cold hands. You just laughed, tugging his shirt up as far as you could get it. Wings impeded your progress until Keigo took pity and dispelled them long enough for you to remove the offending garment. You sighed happily, hands wandering the expanse of Keigo’s chest. He was, in your opinion, the most perfect man you’d ever seen: soft tanned skin covering lean muscles that practically begged you to run your mouth along them.

But the position you were in didn't afford you the best opportunity to indulge that temptation. With a practiced move, you flipped Keigo onto his back, situating yourself on his hips. The sight below you was certainly a beautiful one. With red feathers and golden hair mixing, Keigo looked almost like an angel

Or maybe a fallen one, because the way he was looking up at you was anything but angelic. There was a glint in his eyes that you were sure was mirrored in your own. Keigo smirked as you shifted backwards to straddle his thigh.

“What’re you up to, kid?”

You didn't answer. Instead, you began pressing kisses along the length of his torso; hot, open-mouthed kisses interspersed with the occasional nip. Keigo writhed beneath you as you trailed downward, tongue darting out to tease the outline of his abs. You pulled back when you felt hair on your lips, the fine golden fuzz of his happy trail leading down into his pants.

Your hand picked up where your lips had left off, following that little trail of blond hair under the waist of Keigo’s pants and boxers to curl around his swiftly hardening cock. A groan from above had you glancing up at your partner, and you let out a gasp of your own at the sight. Hooded eyes gazed down at you, the gold of his irises almost swallowed by pupils blown wide with pleasure.

“Look at you,” you teased. “This worked up and I've barely done anything.”

“You don't have to do anything to get me worked up, baby bird. Just being with you is enough to-ahhmmmmm.”

With a smooth roll of your wrist, you cut off whatever Keigo was about to say. A few more pumps had him moaning again, but your brow furrowed in frustration as the material of his pants vastly hindered your movements. Keigo whined when you removed your hand from his cock, only to gasp as you swiftly divested him of his pants and boxers.

Free of it’s fabric confines, Keigo’s cock stood to full attention. Resting your cheek against his thigh, you took a moment to just admire it: the slight curve of the shaft leading up to the flushed head, already dripping a bead of precum. It really was a pretty cock.

“Pretty cock for a pretty bird,” you mused.

“You really think it’s pretty, kid?” Keigo gave you a smile that was closer to a leer. He reached down to wrap a hand around his shaft, giving it a few teasing pumps. “Why don't you show it some love, then?”

You scoffed. “Like I wasn't already planning to.”

With a smirk of your own, you brought your hand up to curl around Keigo’s cock. He removed his own hand, tucking it behind his head as he settled back to watch you. Softly, you trailed your fingers up his shaft, letting them play over the ridges and veins. Keigo let out a pleasurable hum when you dragged your thumb over the tip of his cock.

Then his back was arching off the bed as you took him into your mouth. You didn't go for the deepthroat, not right away at least. Instead, you took your time, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. The musky taste of his pre filled your mouth, and you hummed happily. You slid your mouth down another inch or so, hand tending to the part of Keigo’s length you couldn't fit.

For his part, Keigo was on Cloud fucking 9. All pretenses of composure had been thrown out the window the second your warm mouth had enveloped the head of his cock. His mouth hung open, soft pants and moans falling from his lips. One of his hands was tangled in the bedsheets, while the other was tangled in your hair. He didn't force you any further down that you were willing to go, the contact simply grounding him against the pleasure you were inflicting upon him.

You pulled your mouth off Keigo with a pop, continuing to work him with your hands while you took a much-needed breath . His cock twitched under your ministrations, betraying how close he was. Taking one last inhale, you bent your head to continue when the hand still in your hair stopped you. Keigo gently pulled you up to face him. He scattered kisses across your face, pressing a long one to your lips when he noticed your pout.

“Was I not doing good?” you asked.

“Not good?!” Keigo chuckled. “Babybird, that was the best head I’ve ever gotten in my life.”

“Then why’d you stop me?”

Carefully, Keigo laid you on your back. “Because right now, babybird, I really wanna finish inside you.”

The frankness of his statement made you whimper, a sound that turned into a startled moan when you felt Keigo slip his hand under your pants to trail his fingers through your sex. He let out a groan of his own when he felt how wet you were, arousal clinging to his digits. At his urging, you shimmied out of your pants and panties, leaving you naked from the waist down. This allowed Kiego to sink two fingers into you as he gently prepared you for his cock.

“Damn, babybird, you got this turned on just from sucking my cock?” Keigo pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear. “Next time I’ll let you finish me off, yeah? Shoot my load down that pretty little throat of yours. You’d like that, wouldn't you?”

You nodded rapidly, only to have your head snap back as Keigo curled his fingers against that one spot inside you. Hands scrambled for purchase against the sheets as the man above you brought you to the edge with nothing but his fingers and his voice whispering dirty words in your ear. Just before you toppled over into ecstasy, Keigo pulled his hand away from your cunt only to replace it with his cock. He stalled there for a moment, tracing the head around your slit or pressing it to your clit until you were writing beneath him.

“Keigo, please!! ” you cried, wrapping your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him to just fuck you already.

The cocky bastard just smirked. “Well, since you asked so nicely...”

He sheathed himself inside you with one smooth stroke. You keened, back arching as Keigo set a steady rhythm, more of a grind than a thrust. His cock still managed to hit every sensitive nerve in your cunt, while also tending to the little bundle of nerves just above it.

Except, both of his hands were planted by your head.

You glanced down to where your bodies joined, eyes widening in surprise when you saw a single crimson feather playing over your clit. The sensation was a strange one: soft yet firm as he alternated between light touches and strong strokes. Each touch sent you higher, yet Keigo was careful never to give you enough stimulation to push you into an orgasm. The edging was a maddening sort of pleasure, a sweet torture you wanted to end and yet younever wanted it to stop.

Except you weren't given much choice as Keigo’s thrusts became more erratic. The pressure applied by the feather still playing your clit evened out and became deliberate, hitting every nerve ending on that sensitive bud until you could no longer hold off the tide of pleasure. With a scream of Keigo’s name, you tumbled into your orgasm.

The walls of your cunt clenched and fluttered around his cock, egged on by the ministrations of his feather. Keigo thrust into you a few more times before grinding his hips flush with yours. You felt him release inside you, but most of your focus was still on that damn feather. It continued its motions, drawing your orgasm out until the pleasure turned almost painful.

Keigo only let up once he felt your pussy had milked him of every drop of his cum. Then he pulled out of you, dropping a soft kiss on your forehead before moving off of you in the direction of the bathroom. He returned with a warm washcloth, cleaning you of both of your releases. You let him, content to bask in the afterglow. Keigo left one more time, this time to dispose of the used washcloth and fetch both of you some water.

He helped you sit up and drink some before dragging you beneath the sheets for cuddles. You happily nuzzled into his chest, yawning as tiredness washed over you. Keigo chuckled, hands trailing over your back in nonsense shapes.

“Why do you always get so sleepy after sex?” he wondered.

“ ‘S cause you do a good job,” you mumbled, already half-asleep. “And you make me feel safe.”

You felt Keigo melt in your arms. “Well, what am I supposed to say to that?”

“Say we can take a nap and order food when we wake up?”

“Of course, babybird. Whatever you want.”

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

The next day, you sat on Keigo’s couch, staring at the files spread over the coffee table. Keigo had given them to you over dinner the night before, telling you that they contained everything he had been able to learn about this so-called “League of Villains.” You had been pouring over them ever since Keigo had left for work.

Of course, you had offered to go with him. He had declined with a smooth line about not wanting any distractions that had almost pissed you off. Then he had pulled you into a smoldering kiss, holding you until all the fight drained out of you. Keigo had promised to be careful and be home by dinner before he had simply stepped off the balcony and soared off into the city.

Being left behind stung a tiny bit, but the files made a more than adequate distraction. There was so much information there about the half-dozen or so villains that made up the core of the League, as well as potential allies, suppliers, and contacts. That information you set aside for later, choosing to focus on the main villains..

As you read their files, emotions warred inside of you. On one hand, these were villains, cold-hearted killers and sociopaths. But you couldn't help but feel just a little bad for them. Their quirks had led to them being shunned by society, abandoned by their parents, or driven half crazy. It was almost hard not to sympathise with them. The detailed criminal records included in the files along with the stat sheets and backstories did a good job keeping you on track, though.

Only two members of the League had files that looked to be incomplete. One was Kurogiri; a man of living shadow with an extremely powerful warping quirk. He was credited as the reason the League had mostly evaded capture for so long. His backstory section was less than a page long, only detailing his activities over the course of the past year. It seemed that Kurogiri had sprung into existence with the League, and had no life outside of it.

The other incomplete file was for an individual that simply went by the alias ‘Dabi’. There was a note in Keigo’s handwriting, pointing out that Dabi himself had admitted that the moniker was not his real name. Based on the sheer number of annotations Keigo had added to this specific file, you guessed that this Dabi character was his main contact in the League.

Like Kurogiri, Dabi had no backstory: no family listed, no school record, nothing. There were a few petty crimes listed before he joined up with the League, mostly arson-related. You let out a low whistle as you scanned his stat sheet. His quirk, unofficially called Cremation, was the most powerful fire quirk you’d ever seen. In fact, you’d bet it was even more powerful than Endeavor’s Hellflame.

You stretched back on the couch, trying to picture Dabi from the information in his file. It described a tall young man with black hair and burn scars covering a majority of his body. Your entire being shuddered at the mere thought of the amount of pain he must have gone through to gain such awful scars.

A sudden knock on the door startled you out of your musings. Immediately, you were on edge. It wasn't Keigo, he would have texted, and you were pretty sure he would be returning via balcony anyways. He hadn't mentioned the possibility of guests, nor some kind of cleaning service, which meant that this was probably a stranger and a potential threat.

As you stalked towards the door, you brought your quirk to hum just under your skin. There was always a chance that this visitor was totally harmless, but you didn't want to get caught unprepared if they were dangerous. Reaching the door, you risked a glance through the peephole.

And promptly stumbled back, heart beating wildly as your breath came in panicked gasps.

On the other side of the door were two people in suits, one man and one woman. The woman was new to you, but the man was familiar; he was the Commission agent who had interrupted your panel the day before. The implications of their visit crashed over you all at once as you fought to stay on your feet. They knew you were here, sure, but what else did they intend? Were they here to warn you off, to separate you and Keigo? Or worse, were they going to try to enlist you again, to drag you back into their web of secrets and lies?

You took a deep breath, fighting for rationality and calm. They couldn't enlist you in the Commission since you were an American citizen. All they could do was ask you for assistance, assistance that would be entirely voluntary on your part. And you would not let them separate you from Keigo ever again.

Resolve bolstered you as you finally opened the door. “How can I help you?”

Both agents started, but the man was the first to recover. “Ms. L/N. May we come in?”

“I don't think so,” you said, leaning in the doorframe. “Hawks isn't home, if you were looking for him.”

The woman shook her head. “Actually, we were hoping to speak to you.”

You had expected as much. “About what? I haven't broken any laws during my stay in Japan.”

“If you had, there would be officers at your door instead of us,” the man joked.

You didn't smile. “Then I’ll ask again: How can I help you?”

“Have you heard of the League of Villains?”

“I've heard they've been causing you some trouble,” you said. “Which is impressive, honestly.”

The man cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes, well, did you know that Hawks is leading our investigation of them?”

“He might have mentioned something about it.”

“Did he also mention how difficult of a time he was having?” the female agent scoffed.

Her tone caused you to bristle internally. It was clear that this woman, these people didn't see Keigo as a person, only as a tool for them to use. And when a tool wasn't performing as expected, you replaced it.

“I don't think Hawks has a difficult time with anything,” you countered. “He’s the Number 2 hero for a reason.”

“All we were trying to say is that he could use a little bit of help,” the male agent soothed. “And since-”

You cut him off. “And since we trained together growing up, you want me to come back and help him with this case, am I right?”

The agents nodded. There was a pause, one that you let stretch on until it became uncomfortable. You wanted these agents squirming, wanted to see just how desperate they were for your help. But here was only one way to test the extent of that.

“No.”

The woman blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“ No, ” you repeated. “I'm not coming back to the Commission. Not now, not ever.”

You took a step back and started to close the door. Before you could, the man pulled out a small black object: a checkbook.

“Wait! Please, just hear us out.”

You paused. “All right, fine. You have one minute to convince me.”

“No contract, no documents, no signatures,” the man said. “We write you a check, and you help Hawks as much as you can, for as long as you want. If things get too dangerous, or you feel too trapped, you leave. Sounds fair?”

More than fair, it sounded too good to be true. Narrowing your eyes, you glanced between the two agents.

“How much is the check for?”

In answer, the man opened the checkbook and tore out a check. He filled out a few pieces of information before handing it to you along with a pen. His action confused you until you took a look at the check. Everything was filled out: your name, the date, the purpose. The only line that was blank was the amount.

It took everything you had in you not to burst out laughing. The Commission, the organization that had stolen everything from you, had just handed you a blank check. They were begging you for your help, and they were willing to pay whatever you thought your help was worth.

Part of you wanted to rip up that check, to spit in their faces and tell them they could keep their money, earned from the blood of children like you, like Keigo, like poor Touya. But if that was the case, then that blood money already belonged to you. You were just taking back what the Commission owed you.

Quickly, before you could change your mind, you penned in a number. It was almost five times the amount you would usually ask for a case like this, but if you were going to take their blood money, you were going to bleed them dry. Handing back the check, you expected a refusal, or at least a raised eyebrow.

But the agent just noted the amount in his ledger before returning the check to you. “Thank you, Ms. L/N. We look forward to your assistance.”

Then they were gone, and you were left standing in an open doorway wondering if you had done the right thing, or if you had just sold your soul back to the devils you had worked so hard to escape from.

#bnha hawks #hawks x reader #takami keigo smut #takami keigo x reader #smut #fluff #angst #kat's writing

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monicashipslokius · 3 years

Text

Soulmates, Actually Pt 4

(read part 1/part 2/part 3)

A sharp, shrill alarm blares before the sun has even risen, rousing Loki from a perfect slumber. Loki groans their disgust, but it’s muffled in the meat of Mobius’s shoulder.

“Easy, sunshine,” Mobius says, and the infernal man is actually trying to move.

Loki grumbles louder. Mobius, chuckling, eases Loki away from him and onto the pillow instead. It’s not the same - too soft and not nearly warm enough. Loki clings tighter around Mobius’s waist in retaliation.

“We talked about this,” Mobius says. “I have to go back to work today.”

Loki huffs in frustration as they let Mobius remove their hold and lower their arms to the bed. The pillow is a poor replacement.

For a moment, Mobius brushes Loki’s hair back away from their face. His fingers linger, feather-light, at the edge of Loki’s cheekbone. Too soon, the touch is gone.

“I’ll be back at six pm sharp.”

Loki rolls onto Mobius’s side of the bed and falls asleep again.

When they awaken, the sun is bright and the sheets are cool. Loki’s stomach rumbles. They groan as they pull themself out of bed and finally face the day.

The long, lonely day.

A week has passed since Thor’s departure - a week of Loki and Mobius redecorating and cuddling and learning each other.

They bought six plants of varying sizes, new drapes the color of the ocean, and a soft bedspread to match. Mobius fixed up the broken bathroom door, and Loki hung a few new art pieces and string lights.

The La-Z-Boy they arranged in front of a small boxy television set became a fast favorite.

“What did I tell you?” Mobius said the first time Loki relaxed deeply into the recliner. “It’s the perfect throne.”

Mobius may not understand color palettes, but the man knows comfort.

“It will do for now,” Loki told him, not wanting to give too much away.

Mobius’s smile never wavered. “Mmhm.”

Now, Loki drags themself to the kitchen to make a sandwich. Ten minutes later, they are perched on the recliner, plate on their lap, watching soap operas on television.

Claudio is surprised to find that his fiance Regina’s twin sister Georgina has been behind all of his misfortune, but the plot twist has Loki rolling their eyes.

“Amateurs.” Loki bites into an apple slice.

The hours tick by. Loki watches the anchor-shaped clock that hangs in the kitchen - much of their new decor has an ocean theme. But the more Loki watches the clock, the slower time seems to pass.

Time flew by with Mobius here. But without him...

After the soap operas, the courtroom shows begin. And then the news programs. Loki walks laps around the apartment while listening to the weather forecast for the third time - partly cloudy with a 30% chance of rain. The cost of gasoline is skyrocketing. The local high school football team might make county finals, whatever that means.

At quarter to six, Loki thanks the cosmos. Finally. Mobius will be home and put an end to this monotony.

Loki cleans up a bit, dusting some crumbs off the arms of the recliner. They place the plates in the sink.

Then, because they don’t want to appear too eager, they grab a book and stretch out on the bed.

Six o’clock comes and goes. Mobius does not arrive.

By seven, Loki is annoyed.

By eight, they are angry.

By ten, they are concerned.

Dubuque seems relatively safe. And Mobius has lived here alone for a long time before Loki.

But Loki has enemies. Many, many enemies. All of whom would be more than happy to get their hands on their soulmate.

Mobius is probably fine.

But what if he’s not?

At eleven, they are examining the photo of his office building that Mobius keeps on the dresser. Mobius had taken them to see it in the past week, though they hadn’t gone inside. It wasn’t too far a walk, if they recall. Loki is certain that they could find it again, even in darkness.

So they change into a black suit and hurry out the door. The Dubuque city streets are barren this time of night. Loki encounters no one on their trek to the office - until they barge through the front door and are stopped by a security guard.

Loki promised Mobius that they would not hurt anyone, so instead they create a projection of themself to distract the guard while they themself head toward the elevators. Following the signs for the data analytics department, they ride the elevator to the fourth floor.

They step off the elevator into a darkened field of cubicles. Each is the same - small desk, computer, and chair. All are empty. But Loki isn’t alone here. They follow a light through the cubicle maze and come to one that is occupied.

Mobius has a foot-high pile of files on his desk. He’s tapping at his computer keyboard with the index finger of each hand and peering at the small monitor.

“Mobius?”

Mobius jumps, then clutches his chest. He exhales when he sees Loki standing in the opening of his 3ft x 4ft cell. “Give a guy a warning next time.” He smiles. “But it’s good to see you. How’d you get here? Security let you in?”

Loki only frowns at him. “You said you’d be back at six.”

Mobius’s smile loses some of its brightness. “I have to work a little late. Next time we go out, we’ll get you a phone so I can call and let you know -”

“’A little late?’ Mobius, it’s been hours. I thought you were...” They won’t give name to their truest fears. That Mobius had been kidnapped or killed. Or perhaps that he had finally seen the true darkness in Loki and left of his own free will.

Mobius shakes his head. “Come on, Loki. It hasn’t been that long. It’s only...” He glances at his monitor. “Midnight? That can’t be right.”

“I assure you that is accurate.”

Mobius sits back in his squeaking chair, and rubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry...” He releases a drawn out sigh and his whole body droops. “Boss was cheesed that I bailed on the conference. I have a lot of work to make up.”

The stack of folders towers over Mobius’s slouched shoulders.

“Would it helped if I -”

“You can’t kill him,” Mobius says.

Loki closes their mouth. Tries again. “He needn’t be killed. I could simply... frighten him.”

Mobius shoots Loki a flat look.

“Fine,” Loki says, disappointed. “But what is your intention? To stay here all night?”

Mobius side-eyes the folder mountain. “I’m going to have to.”

“No.”

Mobius sighs. “Loki -”

“This is a place of employment, Mobius, not a living space.”

“It’s my own fault. I should have come back sooner.” He rubs at the corner of one eye. “Maybe I should have stayed at the conference.”

The words stab Loki between the ribs.

“Magicking away was not my best idea,” Mobius says. “I shouldn’t have run from my responsibilities. I’ll never catch up on this work.”

More stabs, a thousand tiny cuts.

“So you regret everything,” Loki says, fighting hard to keep the hurt from their voice. They are disappointed by their own surprise, their own pain. They had thought Mobius was different. They should have known.

Thor was wrong when he said no one could hold Loki’s interest. It was the other way around. Loki protected themself by leaving before the other could get bored. They should have done that here.

But they thought...

Mobius is supposed to be their perfect match.

“No, hey,” Mobius jumps from his chair. That’s all it takes to put him in Loki’s space. Loki takes a step back. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t regret everything, just some things.”

“You regret coming with me when we escaped.”

“N-no,” he says, but not without hesitation.

“You could have stayed. They weren’t chasing you. You could have told them I brainwashed you and gone on with your day.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” The bags are heavy under Mobius’s eyes. He’s tired, Loki knows that - but Loki’s tired too. Sitting, waiting, stressing.

The room sparks with tension. Loki’s pain festers under their skin.

And Mobius regrets.

Loki takes a breath, searching for calm. For understanding. For their soulmate. “Come home,” they say, “And we can continue talking in the morning.”

Mobius exhales again, too sharp. He places his hands on his hips and looks at that damned pile of folders again. “I can’t go anywhere.”

“Mobius -”

“This is my life, Loki,” Mobius tells him. “Data analysis is my life. You have to understand that.”

Something dark in Loki’s chest snaps clean in half. “This is your life. This.” They wave a hand around. “This tiny box in a sea of tiny boxes. Where everyone else has left you here in the dark. Where your employer buries you under papers so deep that you cannot find your way out of them. Is all this extra work truly because you left the conference? How often would you work late before I arrived?”

Mobius looks away, and Loki knows they’re right. The answer, too often.

“Are you at least receiving additional benefits for all this extra time spent here?”

Mobius still won’t look at them.

“They are taking advantage of you, of your loyalty, and you are letting them.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mobius snaps, the sharpest he’s ever spoken to Loki.

Loki stands taller. They’re used to anger, to cutting words, to pain - more than they were ever used to kindness.

“I am trying to protect you,” Loki says.

“I don’t need protection from my job.”

For one wild moment, Loki thinks of grabbing those folders and tossing them across the room. They dream of throwing Mobius over their shoulder and saving them from this drab place and its tan carpet and eggshell walls.

Instead, they insist, “No, you do. You owned three photos when I first met you: one of your parents, one of a jetski, and one of this office. Can you not see how depressing that is?”

Mobius face hardens.

“You are meant for better things than this. When was the last time you even rode a jetski? Or had fun of any kind?”

“I’m an adult. I don’t need fun.”

“That is absurd.”

Mobius’s brows draw together. “Listen, not all of us could be born into royalty, and just go around doing whatever we want all the time.”

Born into royalty. A fresh sting, not one Mobius could know would hit so hard. But it does all the same. Loki steps backward from the force of it.

Mobius unhooks his arms. “Loki -”

Loki shakes their head. Mobius watches them, confusion replacing frustration, followed quickly by concern. He lifts his hand, but Loki steps back again, further out of reach.

“It’s fine,” Loki says, lying. “Stay as long as you like.” They bury the pain down deep. It’s familiar, an old, hated friend. “I wouldn’t dare dream of treading on your unhappiness.”

Mobius drops his hand. “I am happy. I am perfectly happy.”

“Good,” Loki says.

“Great,” Mobius says.

“Wonderful.”

“Fantastic.”

They stare hard at each other. Loki refuses to look away first.

When Mobius finally does, turning back to his cubicle and his chair and the stack of folders, disappointment floods through Loki.

They don’t wait to be dismissed, they turn and leave on their own.

Loki does not return to the apartment. Instead, they walk and they walk and they walk. They almost hope to be accosted by vagrants, so as to release some restless energy in a fight, but they see no one. They reach a river and follow it into a forest.

They sit along the riverbank and watch the sunlight crest over the trees.

Maybe they shouldn’t have surrendered the scepter. With the tesseract, they could have traveled anywhere. Now they are limited to the distance of their own two legs. Not that they would know where to go anyway.

The only place they want to be is back at the apartment with Mobius.

It’s evening when they eventually make their way back there. Their stomach growls, and they’re thirsty and tired. With some food and a good night’s rest, perhaps they could leave again with a plan this time. Hire a taxi to an airport and take a plane. Find a city of decadence and lose themself for a few decades.

They don’t expect Mobius to be home. It’s only shortly after seven, far too early for his beloved late nights. Yet as they place the key into the lock and start to turn, they barely have time to remove it before being yanked forward into the apartment and into a crushing embrace.

“Don’t leave me,” Mobius says. His arms are sure around Loki’s waist. His nose is buried in the crook of Loki’s neck and shoulder. His words are muffled by Loki’s forest-dirty suit coat. “I’m not happy. I haven’t been in a long time. Not until you. And not without you.”

Loki sags into his arms, and he holds tighter, keeping Loki upright. Keeping them safe. They close their eyes and let the warmth of Mobius’s body chase away the chill of the Iowa evening air.

“You scared the hell outta me,” Mobius says, voice shaky. “I looked for you everywhere, but I kept checking here. I kept hoping you’d come back. I’m so sorry.” Mobius leans back. He reaches up and cups Loki’s face between his palms. Gently, he rubs his thumbs over Loki’s cheekbones. “I want to be good for you.”

“How could you think you’re not?”

Regret shines in Mobius’s eyes now, more than it ever did during their argument. “I hurt you. I don’t want to ever do that again.”

Loki places their hand over one of Mobius’s on their face. “I hurt you, too, I suspect.”

“No, everything you said was right.” He swallows. “Work’s all I had for so long, and when I was back there, and they started piling it on... Everyone else in that office has always had someone, so before I would take on the extra work myself. It was better than coming home alone. It’s a hard habit to break. Loki, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to do this.” But Loki still wants to hear it. Each of Mobius’s words are a balm over their pain. Mobius keeps going. He doesn’t even stop for breath.

“I lashed out at you, and I only did that because you were right. And I didn’t want to hear it. But then you were gone.”

“I’m here,” Loki says. “I’m here now.”

“I am a lousy soulmate.” Mobius smiles, but it’s too soft, too sad. “After so long alone, I don’t think that I know how to be with somebody. But I want to learn. I want to deserve this, with you.”

“Mobius,” Loki says, and their mending heart threatens to break again. “I am no great prize.”

Mobius starts to laugh. “I’m trying to be serious, Loki.”

“I am too,” Loki says, and whatever Mobius sees on their face stops the laughter. Loki studies the softness in Mobius’s gaze, the adoration, the great care, memorizing as much as they can, in case this is the last time they see it. “I’m a monster.”

Mobius, voice flat and unamused, says, “Be serious.”

“I was not born to royalty. Not like you think,” Loki says and waits. Dread rolls over them in waves, but Mobius does not react more than a slight cant of his head. “I’m not...” It would be easier to show him, but Loki can’t. If they do, Mobius will change all of his sweet words. He won’t stand to share this small apartment with them any longer, and Loki will be back on that riverside. “How you see me is not... how I am.”

Mobius is patient. Mobius waits. Maybe Loki wasn’t wrong about Mobius after all. Maybe Mobius, like them, is imperfect and a little afraid but trying.

Slowly, Loki pulls Mobius’s hands from their face so as not to burn him with the cold of their skin as they lift the glamour that hides their Jotunn form.

They want to look away, to hide from the horror they are sure to see on Mobius’s face, but simultaneously are too desperate to see any and every reaction.

Mobius’s eyes grow wide. His lips part. He blinks a few times.

“Loki,” Mobius says, and Loki braces for fresh heartache. But then he smiles, real and true and bright, a lighthouse in a lifetime of hurt. “Blue like the ocean.” The adoration never dims from his eyes. “You are beautiful.”

Mobius insists he doesn’t care, but Loki only feels comfortable again with their glamour restored.

“Either way,” Mobius says, and sends Loki off to the bathroom to shower and change. “I’ll have dinner ready by the time you’re done.”

When Loki leaves the tiny bathroom in their silk pajamas, they find the small two-person table lit by candlelight. Mobius stands beside it, wearing one of the dark suits Loki picked out for him at the store, with a deep green tie that’s slightly askew.

“What’s all this?” Loki asks.

“I know we’re soulmates, and our fates are destined and everything,” Mobius says, tugging at his collar. A bit of pink dusts his cheeks. “But some things should be done the old fashioned way. I want to win your heart, so I thought...” He clears his throat. “I want to wine and dine you. Properly.”

“Ah.” Loki slides further into the room, heart lighter than it’s been in the past forty-eight hours. All the lingering hurts are mended. And Mobius looks delectable in that suit, just as Loki thought he would. Loki strides right up to him, reaches out, and adjusts his tie. “You are attempting to seduce me.”

Mobius’s cheeks redden. He glances away for the briefest of moments before his eyes return to Loki’s face.

“You are everything a guy could want,” Mobius says. “More than I ever dreamed.”

Loki finishes fixing Mobius’s tie, but leaves their hands flat on Mobius’s chest. Mobius takes one and brings it to his mouth. He places a kiss to Loki’s palm.

Loki shivers, but not from any cold.

“Loki,” Mobius says, giving so much weight to the name - things unspoken, maybe not ready to be said, but are known - so known, and ready to be shown.

Mobius leans, and Loki stays very still, waiting, wanting but so, so afraid.

Mobius stops just out of reach. His breath hot on Loki’s lips, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Loki swallows all their fear and whispers, “Please.”

Mobius closes the distance and presses their lips together.

Fireworks ignite in Loki’s chest. Their heart thunders. Their hands itch for more, so they grab Mobius by the shoulders and hold, clinging, ruining the new suit and not caring at all.

Mobius cups Loki’s jawline, guiding them closer, tilting gently, positioning Loki just as he wants them. Loki goes willingly, opening their mouth as Mobius licks his way inside.

They should have done this long ago. They should do this all the time. This should never, ever stop.

Loki moans as Mobius’s fingers comb into their hair. Mobius breaks for air, tilts his head, and comes back for more. Loki holds Mobius so close, they are certain their heart beats straight into Mobius’s chest.

It’s perfect, passion incarnate, and Loki wants so much that they -

Loki’s stomach growls. Loudly.

Mobius smiles against Loki’s lips.

Loki groans as Mobius plants one more soft kiss and pulls away.

“Wining and dining time,” he says with a wink.

Loki is both endeared and annoyed. “I will have more of this.” His stomach grumbles again. “After dinner.”

Loki doesn’t miss the flush of Mobius’s cheeks, even as his easy smile returns. “It would be my absolute pleasure, and I mean that.”

#i wrote this #lokius #wowki #loki x mobius #soulmate au #part 4 of 5 theoretically though the list of scenes i want gets longer every chapter oops #might be 4 of 6 #anyway #fighting cw #making up #that jotunn scene that must be in every long fic #first kiss #i fit a lot in here haha #OH! also #long fic #be warned if you click the read more #ao3 link tomorrow prolly #this one hits a little different than the rest #i really wanted to deal with mobius's workaholism

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shhhlikeme · 4 years

Text

F*cked Out 💤

Ojiro Aran Domestic Smut (NSFW) part 2

A/N: I wrote this as a Part 2 to this fic, but it can be read as a stand alone!

18+, Explicit smut, praise kink, Aged up obvs, Timeskip spoilers

Tagging: @saitamastamaticsoup & @chunhua-s b/c these Aran stans found part 1 last night & their comments made me thirsty enough to write a pt. 2. Hope you like it!

also my lovely @qyuanon who I just read is back and I missed her💛

Futilely, you knocked on the door to yours and your man’s home office. Leaning on the frame, you crossed your arms. Being a literal isolationist when you had to work, you never understood why your man liked keeping the office door open. But then he told you once that he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t hear you calling him if the door was closed. ‘What if something happened and I didn’t run to you?’ He had explained, pouting when you laughed at him. It warmed your heart, but you decided not to call his name tonight, instead opting to physically pay him a visit. You had to, because what lead you here in the first place was serious! You had just woken up in the middle of the night because his side of the bed had turned cold. Yeah, that deserved nothing less than a visit from you!

From your spot in the doorway you could see Ojiro sitting at the grand desk, his back turned to you, the lights from his laptop playing some Team Canada highlights. The screen bluelight shone brightly on his gorgeous dark skin, the back of his head bobbed up and down as he dutifully wrote down any important plays he was seeing so that he could tell his coach tomorrow.

“Babe,” You announced your presence with a soft smile. Your man is such a hard worker and he really doesn’t get enough credit for it. You tighten the robe you were wearing because it was always kind of drafty on this side of the house. “You have a game tomorrow.”

Your boyfriend, captain of the Japanese National Volleyball Team’s shoulders slumped when he heard you, but he didn’t turn around.

He didn’t have to.

He never had to. Even though you’ve only been dating for a bit over a year, you two knew each other so well that you could accurately tell exactly what kind of expressions, feelings, and thoughts permeated the other without having to be vis-a-vis. When you first met, your dates were—objectively speaking—oddly silent for the most part. The waitress once asked you if you were uncomfortable through an inconspicuous napkin note, which was kind of her—but the truth was that on that date you were actually more than Okay! It might have seemed odd to an outsider or eavesdropper that no sentences were being finished, and both people on said date were constantly staring down, away, or into each others eyes in silence… but realistically, neither of them could grasp the fact that words weren’t necessary when there existed a connection like yours and Aran’s.

‘It’s fate. He’s the one.’ You had told your friends after the second date when you realized your mind reading wasn’t a fluke. Because as corny as it sounded then and even now in your memory; it was true, tf.

Doesn’t mean you weren’t going to kick his ass for letting his side of the bed go cold, though. You were used to Aran being gone for volleyball so you had no problem falling asleep alone, but when you were ecstatic to have him home it was important for him to REMAIN home, which means staying in bed if you fell asleep on his chest! He has never done it before, so This is not Okay!

“I know, baby, I know…” your boyfriend calls to you, scribbling on his notepad faster. “I’m almost done. I-I think their setter could be doing one of two plays to start tomorrow, and I don’t think it’s the one I was sure about before we went to bed. And I mean, we play them until 12pm, so—“

“So nothing. You still have to be up by 6. The stadium is far and knowing you, you won’t sleep on the Team’s bus, you’ll still be watching these videos even then. I’ll—“

“Please don’t tell Iwaizumi-san, he will kick my ass! We’re playing Team Canada tomorrow and they are ranked just under us but—“

“Not by a lot, I know. I understand, but you guys will still pull the win. I know it....because Your team has you.”

Aran chuckled heartily, continuing to scribble with his back still turned, but his voice turned a little more endearing. “Thank you, baby. But.... I can’t seem to sleep tonight... I just can’t. I’ve been up this whole time so I—” As your boyfriend babbled on, you quietly interjected,

“I know a way to get you to sleep.”

“—won’t use my laptop in bed and wake you up when you’re sleeping so….wait….what did you—?”

You smirked, knowing that your man knew why your voice had dropped a few octaves. He knew you were up to something, not because you two could practically read each other’s minds—moreso because you two had already established that that specific tone of voice of yours made his dick hard. The pen he was scribbling with stopped moving, finally, and you could just picture the way he gulped just now.

“I know you can’t sleep, Ar…..” You made sure he could hear you clearly now, in the voice you only reserved for fuck-me-o’clock.

A sexy smirk that Ojiro could see without looking at you played in his mind and on your face simultaneously.

“Yeah?” He asked, his deep voice cracking.

You kept speaking in that voice with one goal in mind.

“Yes, baby…” You hummed thoughtfully before stating,

“So why don’t you come over here and fuck me so hard it puts you to bed, then?”

Drunk off horniness caused by the amount sex dripping from your voice, the captain of Japan’s National Volleyball Team slowly turned the office chair so that he was facing you.

Boldly, you turned your back to him at the same time and fiddled your hands that just tightened your robe. This time, instead of tightening it, you loosened the strings fully so your robe was wide open, facing the emptiness of your house. Knowing that your boyfriend was checking out and admiring your ass in that short silk robe and desiring the shock factor—in one motion you tossed the robe over your shoulders so that it pooled at your feet, exposing your completely nude back and backside to your man.

“🤤 Shit,” Ojiro groaned, sounding as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. You just knew your man was biting that full and juicy bottom lip of his.

Swaying your hips to give your man a tiny show, you sauntered precisely where he didn’t want you to: away from him; heading towards the master bedroom.

You kept yourself from giggling when you heard the aggressive shutting of a laptop, a volleyball announcer being cut off, and a certain volleyball player’s stumbling and cursing because Ojiro was practically chasing you out of the office.

***

“Mmmm…. Fuck..”

A few minutes later, your mind displayed a valiant effort by attempting to guess how your boyfriend looked right now, but it would be in vain. You couldn’t picture your man like you usually could because you were currently being fucked way too fucking well. Ojiro was filling you completely with just half his length, whispering horny-nothings to help you understand his feelings anyway:

“God damn, Y/N… Every. Time. Feels. So. God. Damn. Good,”

Now, If your mind was clear you’d be able to perfectly visualize how Ojiro’s face was scrunched up in pleasure right now, a coat of sweat coating his nude dark skin, the skylight over his head allowing the moon to reflect an insanely sexy glow sheen over his muscles due to the perspiration.

“Auuh there’s nothing better than this, baby…”

If your mind was clear you’d be able to perfectly visualize how Ojiro’s head was tilted backwards right now, his mouth slightly ajar as he focused on not cumming inside you within the first few minutes of this because he needed to feel you cum around him first. As always.

“Not when I hitting a line shot, not when I get a service ace.... nothing feels—auuuh f-uck— better than your pussy, baby girl..…”

If your mind was clear, you’d be able to see Ojiro on his knees behind you, holding your hips in his giant hands while he drove into you from behind, inserting only half his cock in and out like a pro, then surprising you with a fully thrust every now and then when he sheathed all 10 inches inside your heat.

“Mmm, so ti-ight, always so wet… damn,”

Despite your mind being clouded by immense pleasure, however—you did know that you looked absolutely wrecked with your face pressed in the pillow, blindly reaching behind you to tap or wave or pinch or do something to him since you couldn’t speak. You could barely made any sounds other than choked out moans because it felt so spectacular… but you didn’t have to! Aran knew that you wanted your boyfriend to stop playing and give you full strokes. His half thrusts filled and pleasured you more than any one ever could because he was huge and skilled in bed, he knew just how your insides liked to be stroked, but that didn’t stop you from silently pleading to him..

Even if Ojiro wasn’t holding back like always because he was very aware of his size and girth, even if you both knew that it would hurt you the next day like after a good workout, even if you walked funny when you had to attended his Olympic game several hours from now—you fucking needed it.

HE fucking needed it!

“Harder, Ar,” You commanded, “Deeper!”

“Fuck,” Your boyfriend panted, still not giving you what you asked 7 amazing strokes later.

“Harder, now!” You cried as if you were whispering to the fucking pillow. You hadn’t the strength to lift your head. Your orgasm was fast approaching because HALF your man’s dick was too good and there was no way you weren’t bringing him with you. “Deeper, baby!”

“Y-you su-sure?” He asked worriedly. He always did this shit 🙄. He always worried way too much about your body soreness and way too little about both of your impending orgasms tonight rocking your motherfucking worlds.

Ugh!

Good boyfriends and their fucked up PRIORITIES, amirite?!

Needless to say, you didn’t have time for compassionate Aran tonight. You needed him to fuck the both of you to sleep the way you knew he was capable of if he stopped holding back. Besides, he should have been in bed hours ago. You had to do this for the sake of the National Team! You had to this for JAPAN! (A/N: lucky b*tch shut your horny ass up)

So that’s why, in response to his asking if you were sure or not, you responded by clenching your insides so that your slick hole squeezed around your boyfriend’s cock.

As soon as he felt you pulsing impossibly tighter around him as he fucked you halfway, his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck…” He moaned deeply, so of course you continued doing it.

“Shit, Y/N, Okay, Okay,”

Without having to beg for mercy, your man did as you asked him to. He moved his hands from your waist to splay them on each of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to make more room for his member that already barely fit (with your hasty prep and not his tentative one), but especially when your pussy clenched around him like that. With a loud moan from both of you, he bottomed out and stayed there for a bit to get you used to the size. You almost passed out by how good it felt pressing against your g-spot.

When Aran couldn’t take it anymore, and he started giving it to you: hard, fast, and deep.

“Ye, baby, make room for me just like this…..” He moaned, gripping your ass tighter. “You want all of me? You think your tight hole can handle all of me?” He asked, no growled, still giving shallow but gratifying thrusts.

You whimpered, knowing that Ojiro knew the answer to that. Even so, you egged him on, “Sh-Show me why you’re the best top,” playing into your dirty talk from the last time y’all had sex like this but he was under you.

Your boyfriend let out a long groan in his smooth deep voice and picked up his pace in reaponse, sending a new wave of wetness to your private. You were so soaked down there that it sounded like y’all were having sex in the bath tub, fuck.

Your man loved it.

“Mmmm, —m’ close beautiful,” He called, snapping his hips forward to meet you g-spot again and again. “It’s you, baby, it’s you,” Your man groaned. “Your pussy feels too fucking good……. I’d never pull out if I had to co-couldd,”

“Oh, God. Aran!" You moaned loudly due to his dirty talk and praise, teetering on the edge of your release. Knowing that you maybe had 30 seconds left if you focused, you must have decided that you didn’t want to walk tomorrow at all because being the weakness of your bf you are, from your position being pounded into the sheets, you propped yourself up on your weak arms so that you could use the fact that your elbows were digging into the mattress as leverage to push your body back so that you met Aran’s deep thrusts.

Like your boyfriends does every rare time he’s able to see your glorious ass bounce on his hard dick, his eyes flew open and he felt as though he’d been transported to heaven itself.

“Y/N—auh, s-so sexy, aah, ooh, ohhh, fuck, Y/N,”

entranced, Aran couldn’t even last another second before he was stopping your movements with his hands, sliding them back on your hips to hold you still as his orgasm took his muscular frame by storm. He saw stars.

Of course, his orgasm triggered yours immediately, and you cried your man’s name as you came on his dick. He whispered yours as your insides milked him without influence this time, effectively lengthening your man’s finish. Panting, Aran just barely caught himself before his now exhausted body toppled over you.

His last wakeful act, being the gentleman that he is, was to roll over so he wouldn’t crush you with his body weight, pulling out at the same time.

You wondered if he registered that he said, “thank you baby,” before he began softly snoring—a sign that he was completely worn out and sleeping.

You smiled softly to yourself when you heard his snores, finally turning when you caught your own breath, to fully see your boyfriend’s stunning face. You endearingly brushed his goatee with the tips of your fingers, turning his sleeping face to yours so you could peck his lips. Then, you just barely had the leg strength to stand up on limbs that barely worked, removing his condom for him, then using the furniture in your room to support you as you cleaned the two of you up. You almost fell asleep standing up as you used a cloth on the two of you. Five minutes later, you were back in bed, under the covers with your lover and amazing man.

Usually, Ojiro Aran slept like the dead (when he first moved in you occasionally have to check if he was still breathing...) , but you knew now that if he snored, that was a sign that he was so fatigued. You knew about the snoring, but the talking was new to you. Ojiro was so deep in his sleep after that round, that he was talking to himself in his slumber, whispering sweet-nothings about you that you’d never let him know he vocalized to spare him the embarrassment.

Besides, he didn’t say anything too embarrassing.... and you knocked out as soon as your head met his chest, not even feeling his arm sweetly wrap around your waist to pull you closer. So, you didn’t even hear most of his sleep-talk.

And maybe you were right when you called it fate, that drove the two of you.... because if it wasn’t fate that had you place your head on Aran’s chest at that exact moment, if it wasn’t fate that made you fall asleep at that exact moment..... then, I mean, you would have heard Ojiro not a second later declare aloud that he’s hiding your engagement ring in the office’s cabinet drawer. You would have heard theis the real reason he wasn’t able to fall asleep: because he was so nervous about asking for your hand in marriage before his Japan vs. Canada game tomorrow, when you least expected it.

Cause like, well, that totally would have ruined the surprise.

But you did fall asleep. Fate did that. So him sleep talking honestly never really happened.

And you know what else never happened?

You never had to feel the cold side of the bed again where your man should be, at least not that night, because Aran Ojiro your new fiancée’s body kept it warm all night, because you were great and helping him fall asleep like a baby....making him just that:

f*cked out.

#ojiro aran #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu aran #hq imagines #haikyuu!!#hq headcanon #haikyuu headcannons #inarizaki

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