#and it’s hard to feel Good about being moved out

[xazse]

Cw: A/b/o dynamics + Omegaverse + Alpha!Satoru x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Suguru + my Abo dynamics are different so sorry + mentions of anal + smut + knotting + crying + size difference + biting

If you’re meant to be Sugurus Omega that means you’re definitely Satoru’s, you don’t get a choice they’re a package deal, they can’t stand being away from one another so they went against everything that alphas stand for and bit each other: now fully intertwined with one another.

Suguru yearned for you, he knew he had to have you, those nights where he was ravishing Satoru and feeling something was missing, an itch he couldn’t scratch, he hated it, he hated how rough he’d get with Satoru even though the blue eyed man said he enjoyed it so much.

Knotting Satoru was something he loved but the thought of knotting your little cunt alone drove him mad, made him so hard he’d think about it all day, constantly having to go “adjust” himself.

When he finally had you, he went absolutely fucking mad, he couldn’t stop smelling you: you smelled like cookies and vanilla. He couldn’t stop licking your soft supple skin, your spongy cunt that he’d have to finger for a good while to get you ready.

And of course he’d have Satoru by his side just as thirsty for the sight of you, he’d be fondling your tits and giving you long drawn out kisses that you’re eager for, like a puppy.

There was no argument about who got to fuck your cunt first, that was always going to be Suguru, he was gonna be your first for your ass as well.

His leaky redden tip lined up with your awaiting slick hole, his counterpart distracted you with sweet words, Suguru couldn’t afford to be sweet right now, he slams his fat cock in one swift move, the whines that spill from you do nothing but egg him on. He pushes your legs toward yourself and the sound of skin meeting skin feels the room, he fucks your soppy pussy so messily, he’s been craving this for so fucking long, he’s constantly readjusting his long hair that he doesn’t bother to put up, your pussy is just the sweetest thing.

When his fat tip starts to swell inside of you, you’re crying into Satoru’s kiss, he knows it hurts, your first ever knot is always gonna hurt he tells you in a comforting tone.

You don’t know it but Satoru absolutely is obsessed with you also, you look so cute crying trying your best for them, trying your hardest to accept Suguru’s fat knot, youre small compared to them and he loves it.

When Suguru bites you, all you see it white, he isn’t surprised that you passed out, you’re gonna have to do it all over again when it’s Satoru’s turn.

[boypied]

FULL OF LIFE.

pairings: nate jacobs x male reader

summary: nate decides to come after maddie's slightly younger brother, which he ultimately succeeds in by using his charm and sexual appeal.

requested by: @jaysreyess - here

warnings: smut, gay slurs, anal sex, unprotected sex, breeding, ass eating (r!receiving), being watched during sex, cheating.

Nate aggressively pushes your head straight into the pillow to keep you quiet. He was conflicted by hearing how loudly you were moaning, it showed how fucking good he was making you feel and that made Nate feel like a faggot. Either side of your asscheeks was one of Nate's thick hands gripping onto a cheek each, holding them wide open so that his tongue can dip in and out of your pulsating asshole. "N-Nate!" You groan out in agonising pleasure as your rock hard cock painfully pulsates as he leaves it alone. He slowly pulls away as your body exudes all its power and drops down against your satin sheets, "mhm" you whimper out as the feeling of him pulling away was all too much as he takes away all the pleasure that you were living for, for the past whole hour that he had spent eating you out.

Nate flips you over and lines up his cock with your hole and he gently thrusts forward and he watches how your cock disappears into your warmth, "nate!" You whimper out in slightly shock as you've never experienced the size of a cock that big. Nate was blessed with a nine inch and graced with a thick cut delicious dick. Your phone has been blowing up for a while, so as he continues to pound back and forth, he picks up your phone as his eyes dart back and forth from the phone to your face. Nate smirks as he picks up the phone, and he doesn't even need to tell his body to move his hips in a rough manner as your tongue drops out and spit runs across it. "Good boy," he mumbles under his breath until he answers one of the many calls and clicks onto face time.

"Hey- WHAT THE FUCK!" you hear the sound of your boyfriend down the end of the phone, you hear how loud he shouts trying to get through to you. You don't even have a second thought about running to take the phone out of Nate's hands as he continues to pound away at you, one thrust at a time. "Y/N! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? " he shouts down the phone, and Nate turns the camera back to himself as he shows your boyfriend him thrusting his cock deep into your asshole, "He's getting fucked by a real man!" Nate groans out in agonising pleasure as he chuckles loudly with each thrust of his cock. Your moans echoe throughout the room, and your boyfriends phone echoes with the sound of another man pleasuring you in an ungodly way.

Nate's one hand gripped onto your hips as he stopped focusing on your boyfriend on the phone, and his eyes travelled down to your asscheeks and he admires the way they jiggle with each thrust of his cock. "Look at how happy he is!" Nate grunts out between thrusts as he turns the camera onto your face as your eyes are fluttered back and your tongue is sticking out as sweat drips down your face and you pant, your body convulsing in pleasure. Nate turns the camera back onto him to notice that your boyfriend had hung up at some point when he wasn't looking, leaving nothing but a message that said, "I'm done." Nate just stares at it for a moment while laughing as he throws your phone to the side, and he grips your hips with both hands, and he begins to pump his cock in and out of you. As he piston fucks you your cock bounces up and down, hitting your stomach and Nate's perfectly sculpted abs.

Nate piston fucks into you, roughly and dominantly which ultimately causes you to shoot your load all over your body. You lean up slightly to watch as your cock spurts out cum and paints your stomach white, hands free. Nate smirks as he watches how pleasure you've become, he fucks into you a couple more times until he shoots thick ropes of his white seed into your asshole. Your eyes widen in pure bliss as you feel your walls contract around his cock as he pumps your stomach full off his seed, "Nate!" You whimper out as he leans down and presses his lips against yours "just..Shh, baby. Enjoy it, " he whispers in your ear as he starts breeding your asshole with a couple of thrusts until he pulls out of you. You whimper slightly at the disconnect until Nate pulls your body close to his and you close your eyes and smile as his cum drips out of your asshole and down your asscheek.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter @lucerothings1 @gaefaeyae @dqrkhold @sluttyhusband

nate jacobs (short)

[scartale-an-undertale-au]

i see, it seems i had misread it since i confused the subject of the sentence? (if that makes sense? sorry, english isn't my first language) so it felt more like 'dont be a bitch and just tell them what you feel', which kinda continued the paragraph prior to it that mentioned telling your friends about how you feel. it's what i was addressing basically.

with your addition, i didn't read it as oneself's life experience but as a 'btw, this situation means that you could be this!' which could also stem from me not understanding the context. i do apologize for making you feel that i'm attacking your pov or life experience, i simply was trying to show that this seemed like a very limited world view. i didn't realize it was supposed to come as across as one world view meant to be taken as one option.

the issue i had wasn't when friends are busy and have lives that simply get in the way, which is very normal and i mentioned that as well, but rather that they never tried to reach out first or even try to check on the sole instigator when things grow quieter. like if after a month, you notice you haven't heard from them and send a message asking if they're alright, that's good! but if you notice and simply dismiss it or just don't notice at all? that's where the issue i addressed exists.

i'm glad your friend group makes sure to tell you that they appreciate your efforts, and that you find joy in being the instigator. and it's truly relieving to hear that this is your reality.

but also it's important to take note that many (not all) sole instigators didn't become instigators because they wanted to, but because they were the only ones who noticed the need or were forced into the role. and most of the time, it's not so easy to simply move away from that group and find other friends. my approach is also only one option and a very hard mindset to achieve. but i do believe it's one that would be a good mindset for those that were forced into the sole instigator role.

thank you for your further explanation

every now and then the internet decides it should revamp the ole “stop texting first and see how many friends you lose” when in reality you could literally just communicate that u feel bad that ur the only one texting first

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

THIRD TRIMESTER

Word Count: 1.1K

Pairing(s): Reader x Rafe 

Warnings: Stress and anxiety during pregnancy

Summary: Rafe defends you, pregnancy stress causes emotional pain

The third trimester had come faster than you anticipated, and with it came a series of emotions, both overwhelming and beautiful. You were now heavily pregnant, your body changing in ways that made you feel like you were barely holding onto yourself, but all the while, Rafe was there, supporting you through every step. The two of you had recently moved into a new house, a small but cozy place where you could begin your life together as a family. It was everything you’d dreamed of—well, almost everything.

-

There was still the issue of Rafe’s father, who hadn’t made it easy on you. From the moment you found out you were pregnant, he’d been openly critical of your decision to start a family so young.

“I don’t know why you’d want to keep the baby. You’re barely out of high school,” his voice echoed in your mind as you sat on the couch in your new home, wrapping your arms around your belly. “And you think you’re ready to raise a child? Wait until you see what comes out of her, Rafe. She won’t even look the same, and it’s not like she’ll go back to being skinny after all that. You really want to deal with that?”

You could still feel the sting of his words, even now. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something hurtful about your pregnancy, but it always hit hard. Rafe had defended you every time, but it never seemed to be enough to quiet the doubts you had. His dad’s comments made you second-guess everything, even your own self-worth, even when you knew deep down it wasn’t true.

Rafe had been there, as always, but that didn’t stop the growing anxiety within you. Every time his father would make a comment, it would take everything inside you not to cry or snap back. But today, something inside you broke. You had been unpacking boxes when you overheard another comment from Rafe’s dad, and it sent you spiraling. You knew Rafe wasn’t home, so you found yourself collapsing on the couch in tears, holding your belly as your emotions threatened to take over.

Just as the pain of the words sank deeper, the door to the living room opened, and Rafe stepped in, looking concerned. His eyes softened as soon as he saw your face, tears streaking down your cheeks, your hands clutching your stomach in distress.

“Baby?” he whispered, kneeling down in front of you. “What happened?”

Through shaky breaths, you tried to explain. “I just... I just can’t take it anymore. He keeps saying I’m too young, and it’s like he doesn’t believe I can do this. He’s always saying that things are going to change after labor, that you won’t even look at me the same way... I feel like I’m not good enough for this baby.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched with anger, but his face softened as he gently cupped your face in his hands. “Listen to me, okay? You are everything I could ever need. You’re the mother of my child, and nothing—nothing—will change that. Not the way you look, not what happens after labor. You could go through the toughest thing in the world, and I would still love you with everything I have. Don’t let him get in your head.”

You looked into Rafe’s eyes, your heart aching at his words, but the anxiety and emotional turmoil didn’t subside. You couldn’t stop crying. You wanted to be strong, but everything just felt so heavy. The emotional strain was overwhelming, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get a grip on yourself.

Rafe’s protective instincts kicked in. His voice was steady but urgent as he pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing your back soothingly. “It’s okay, baby. Take a few deep breaths. We’re okay. I’m here. The baby’s okay.”

But as you tried to steady your breathing, it felt impossible. You couldn’t calm down. The tears kept coming, and your chest tightened painfully. The stress had taken its toll, and you could feel it radiating through your body. Your heartbeat was erratic, and your baby seemed to be reacting too. The panic only deepened.

“I can’t breathe,” you gasped, clutching your chest, the pain intensifying. You were hyperventilating, tears streaming down your face. “Rafe, it hurts. I don’t know what to do.”

Rafe’s eyes widened in fear as he frantically grabbed his phone. “I’m calling an ambulance. It’s going to be okay, just stay with me.”

Within minutes, the paramedics arrived and rushed into the house. They assessed the situation quickly, asking questions and checking on both you and the baby. Rafe was by your side the whole time, holding your hand tightly, his face pale with worry.

Once you were in the ambulance, the pain started to subside, but your body still felt weak and shaky. The journey to the hospital felt long and suffocating, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep fear of what might be happening to you and the baby.

At the hospital, the doctors quickly ran tests, checking the baby’s heartbeat and your vitals. They explained that what you were experiencing was likely a panic attack, brought on by stress and the emotional pressure you had been under. It wasn’t something to be alarmed about, but they strongly advised you to stay calm in the coming weeks to prevent any further stress on the baby.

“You need to take care of yourself, both physically and emotionally,” the doctor said gently. “The next few weeks are crucial for both you and the baby. Stress can affect your health and the baby’s development. You need to avoid any situations that could increase that anxiety.”

Rafe was at your side, holding your hand tightly as the doctor finished speaking. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll make sure she’s calm. I’ll keep her safe.”

You felt the sincerity in his voice, and although you still felt a little shaken, hearing him promise to be there for you made everything feel a bit more manageable.

As you were discharged and brought back to your new home, Rafe stayed close, making sure to comfort you and help you get settled back on the couch. He insisted that you rest, assuring you that everything would be okay. You couldn’t help but smile faintly at his care, feeling more grateful than ever that he was by your side.

“Don’t worry about anything else, baby,” Rafe said softly as he kissed the top of your head. “We’re in this together. I won’t let anything happen to you or our little one.”

[ghostlycod]

thinking about ghost or price (but especially ghost) with plus-size!reader is so 🤤

MDNI ; NSFW

cw: use of the word “fat” (I refuse to view it as a bad word and so does ghost), mentions of being bullied and mentions of mothers being judgmental (weren’t all of our first bullies our own mothers?), piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl, folks. I mean I don’t but I have a breeding kink and don’t mind getting knocked up, so), mutual orgasm, dirty talk, use of the phrase “good girl,” creampie

————————————————————————-

fat

he knows how much you hate that word. it’s the word that’s been thrown at you all your life. playground bullies, ex-boyfriends, hell even your own mother would berate you with it. and you tried your best to tough it out, you know? to not let things get to you, to keep your head high and stay confident. but it’s chipped away at you, he can see it. the way you try to hide yourself, make yourself smaller, thinking if you just don’t talk too loud or don’t move around too much it will make it so you take up less space. clothes that hide the delicious curves he’s been thinking about everyday since he met you.

and that fat is all of what he loves. sliding his length in and out of you slow but hard, watching as the shockwaves of his blunt force ripple across your thick thighs as he sinks home. he’s so greedy with his gaze, drinking in every inch of your perfectly plump body.

“been keeping this from me? trying to hide?” he groans from deep in his chest as he bottoms out inside you, sliding home with a loud, wet squelch from your pussy, making you bite down on your bottom lip and keen.

“askin’ me to turn the lights off.” he huffs a laugh as his hips pick up the pace and you feel him right there, with the perfect tempo and pressure. “nah, nah, nah. you’re gonna let me see ev’ry part of ya, lovey.”

and every part is exactly what he gets. he flips you into every position you never thought anyone would ever take you in. with your legs spread lewdly over his shoulders, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your hips, then ghosting their way over your soft stomach to grip at your jiggling thighs, pussy taking a pounding that can only leave you making those little ah ah ah sounds, squeezing his cock involuntarily because you’re—

“close. soooo close” you moan, trying to bury your face into the blankets bunched up around your head.

“I know, I know,” he coos. takes one hand off your thighs that he’s been holding steady and cups your cheek with it, turning you to face him. “cum for me.” it’s not a request. you hitch your breath, fighting the pleasure for reasons you can’t explain.

“cum for me, lovey” he says again, softer this time, as he stares deeply into your eyes.

and the look in his eyes is undeniable. you do exactly as your told, pleasure surmounting to the most intense peak of your life as it tumbles through your body like an avalanche, stealing your breath and burying your cries beneath the weight of its pleasure.

“that’s it. thas it. thassit.” his words slur together as he loses himself in you. “such a good girl. hmnph,” he cuts himself off with a groan, hips slamming into your gushing pussy wildly. “good girl. squeezingmesogoodgirl.”

he grips you by the hips and clutches you to him as he buries his cock inside of you with one final push, trembling as he folds over you, and you feel the sudden gush as his spend shoots into your cervix. he holds your bodies together like that, not a single inch leaving you as he slowly rocks your two bodies together while his cock pumps his spend inside of you until he’s empty.

you’re both breathless and shaking in the bed, bodies bound together. he focuses his eyes on your face at last, brushing the hair from your face with a surprising tenderness for someone with such rough hands.

“y’alrigh’?” he asks.

you can only nod your head vigorously, making him chuckle. he kisses your temple.

“good. good girl,” he mumbles into your hair, giving your thick thighs a little jiggle with his hand. you almost shy away from him, but one glimpse at his face tells you not to run away. this is exactly what he’s here for, exactly what he likes. and he’ll be damned if you hide from him any longer. so, you don’t. you settle into his hold politely, pressing your body deeper into his, and you don’t shrink away as his hands start to roam your flesh, massaging your fat just as he likes.

“that’s my girl,” he practically purrs at you.

————————————————————————-

[seanminfl]

As I walked back inside our apartment, I couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and desire, knowing what was about to happen. Big brother, Damien, had sent me a text earlier, informing me that he had a rough day at work and was looking forward to getting home and taking it out on my ass. The thought of his strong, dominant hands gripping my hips as he pounded into me made me both nervous and excited.

It wasn't long before I heard the front door open and slam shut. I knew that Damien was home, and I could sense the tension radiating off of him. Quietly, I made my way towards the master bedroom door, knowing that he was in the bathroom and would soon be out and expecting to be served. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the rough encounter that was about to take place.

As I heard the bathroom door open, I quickly got into position, presenting myself to him. My heart raced with anticipation as I heard his footsteps approaching. He looked up at me, his eyes dark with lust and anger.

He growled, taking a step towards me. My eyes widened with fear and arousal. "Good. Now, get on your knees and show me just how much you want this."

Without hesitation, I dropped to my knees, my eyes locked onto his. Reaching out, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back roughly. I let out a soft moan, closing my eyes and tilting my head back further, surrendering myself to his control.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice low and husky. I opened my eyes, gazing up at him as he continued to grip my hair tightly. "You want this, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," I responded, my voice barely above a whisper.

"That's right. You're going to be a good little slut for me tonight, aren't you?"

I nodded, swallowing hard as I felt a wave of submission wash over me. Damien released his grip on my hair, allowing me to lean forward and press my lips against the head of his cock. He let out a low groan as I slowly began to take him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive tip.

"Fuck, that's good. Keep going," he instructed, his hands moving to rest on the back of my head. I continued to suck him off, taking him deeper into my throat with each bob of my head.

After a few minutes, Damien suddenly grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me up to my feet and pushing me against the wall. I gasped in surprise as he roughly yanked my pants and underwear down to my ankles, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

"Now, let's see how well you can take my cock up your tight little ass," he said, his voice dripping with authority and lust. I whimpered in response, biting down on my bottom lip as I felt his cock pressing insistently against my entrance.

With one swift, powerful thrust, Damien pushed himself deep inside of me, causing me to cry out in pain and pleasure. He held onto my hips tightly, his fingers digging into my flesh as he began to thrust in and out of me with increasing force and speed.

"Yes, fuck...give it to me harder, Sir," I moaned, my voice hoarse and ragged. Damien chuckled darkly, increasing the pace of his thrusts even more intense than before.

The sound of our bodies slapping together echoed throughout the hallway, creating a rhythm that only served to heighten the intensity of our encounter. I gripped onto the wall for support, my entire body trembling with each powerful thrust from Damien.

"You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice filled with both anger and satisfaction. "You like it when I fuck your tight little ass like this, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper.

Damien continued to fuck me relentlessly, his hands moving to grip my throat tightly. I gasped in surprise, my eyes widening with both fear and arousal as he began to cut off my air supply. As I struggled to breathe, I could feel myself being pushed closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm going to cum inside of you," Damien warned, his voice low and husky. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me."

With those words, Damien reached his climax, his cock pulsing deep inside of me as he released his hot, sticky load. The sensation of his cum filling me up only served to push me over the edge, my entire body shuddering with the force of my orgasm.

As we both collapsed against the wall, panting heavily and covered in sweat, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction and relief. It had been a rough, intense encounter, but in the end, I knew that I had pleased my big brother, and that was all that truly mattered.

As soon as he laid down and began to snore, I slipped over to little closet at the end of the hall and opened the door. “His anger is passed. Your ass isn’t in danger anymore. He’s not gonna tear up your ass right now. You can get out of your new room now, dad.”

[heelix1r]

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 DON’T BE SHY … COME CLOSER 🌾

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ don’t be shy, jungwon just wants to take some pictures with you. won’t you join him?

bela is typing . . . oh to be in forced proximity with yang jungwon…

jungwon x f!reader | drabble | romance | no established au

masterlist | guidelines | requests OPEN !

like this order? check out my recently opened coffee lounge to make your own order to-go ;)

jungwon + romance + forced proximity + “are you blushing?”

you heard distinct chattering from inside the photobooth you were passing by on your way to the claw machines. by the time you turned the corner, you were startled to see jungwon standing on the side, crossing his arms lightly as he rolled his eyes at the commotion coming from the inside. he laid eyes on you, and his expression softened.

“so that’s where you guys were headed off to,” you retorted with a chuckle. “i was wondering how i could’ve lost all seven of you.”

“it was jake’s idea,” he said, tapping on the photobooth with his hands. “but i lost rock-paper-scissors with jay since we both entered the booth last. so now i just have to wait here.”

you heard a muffled “almost done!” from sunoo inside the booth.

“but never mind that,” jungwon said, pushing himself from the photobooth, placing his hands in his pockets. “where were you headed? or were you just looking for us?”

“oh no.” you shook your head. “i gave up five minutes ago, i was going to leave you guys for dead. i wanted to check out the claw machines.”

jungwon shook his head as he saw heeseung’s foot step outside of the booth, presumably preventing himself from falling out. the both of you could hear fragmented bickering about who got to be in the front, faces being smushed in, and an onslaught of swearing, laughing, and yelling that seemed to have no end. you gave each other a knowing look—jungwon definitely was the lucky one by staying out of there.

“well, i’ll come join you,” he mused, nudging his head over to the claw machines. “i bet what you’re doing is a lot more productive than whatever they’re doing.”

“good idea.” you had resigned yourself to taking the lead, and jungwon was more than happy to follow suit. by the time you two had your backs to the photobooth, everything that happened next was too quick for you to process.

in a flash of whirring movements, you yelped at the feeling of your arms being grasped—jungwon’s grunt mirrored your surprise as you watched the other boys chase the two of you down, forcibly pushing you into the photobooth. you and jungwon stared at each other amidst processing their unfiltered laughter. you could hear an employee scolding them to keep it down.

“what are you guys doing?” jungwon asked, his face showing more concern over everything else.

“take some pictures!” riki called out from the outside. “you two are the only ones who didn’t get to, so jay threw in a few more won for you guys to do. see you later!”

it was hard to miss their parading footsteps fade into the distance. you turned to the bright, inviting screen, giving you the option of the standard 4-picture portrait mode.

then it hit you.

you were alone in a close space with yang jungwon.

your body tensed up immediately at the realization, taking in the subtlety in the way his shoulder was pressed against yours. you could smell his cologne—it was faint, but you knew it was his. the only sound that filled your shared silence was the automated voice coming from the booth, inviting the both of you to choose some filters.

you were startled at the sound of jungwon clearing his throat. both of you turned towards one another slowly, your eye contact with him moving back towards the screen.

“we could just take some normal photos,” he offered nonchalantly. he even slouched ever so slightly after he tinkered with the options. “or some silly ones. have any ideas in mind?”

think, think, think.

jungwon, jungwon, jungwon.

“we could,” you mumbled quietly, very intentionally avoiding his gaze. you stared straight in front of you, as if the screen magnetized your vision. or rather, jungwon was repelling it.

repelling it would be far from the truth.

“y/n, that was not an answer.” you pressed your lips together as you heard his voice contort with confusion. “nonchalant or silly? or a mix of both?”

“silly,” you blurted out, your eyes still glued to the screen. “yeah, that would be a good idea.”

jungwon didn’t respond. as a matter of fact, you realized he didn’t reach out for the screen either. he sat there in silence.

“y/n,” he said after a few moments. “look at me.”

you obliged. to your horror, you saw a glint of a smirk stretch across his lips, watching intently as his body leaned in closer to yours, closing the distance between the two of you ever so slightly.

you were in complete shock. jungwon’s stare had you pinned, frozen like a deer in headlights. and as he approached your face even closer with his, you knew you were completely busted. his face was so close, you felt him breathing on your skin. your noses were nearly touching.

he broke the silence once more. “are you blushing?” he hums, that foxy grin appearing without remorse.

you whip around in an attempt to distance yourself from him, as if it would save your dignity. “no,” you answered (a little too forcefully). “i am not. it’s just the screen. there’s… there’s strawberries all over the filters.”

there were no strawberries on the screen. dork.

jungwon chuckled softly. you watched his hand approach the booth screen, starting the countdown abruptly.

“if you’re not blushing, then,” he mused, “then we can move on to being silly, right?”

as if directly on cue, you felt fingers pinching your cheeks in, turning your face towards him. he had a knowing smirk on his face as he gently squished the skin of your cheeks. you knew that he knew that your face was abnormally hot.

before you could protest, the first shutter went off.

you pushed his fingers away, “that was uncalled for!” you exclaimed, wailing your arms. “how dare—”

click. there goes the second picture.

you turned to the camera in horror, and jungwon bursted out into a fit of laughter as you realized how little time you had left.

the camera caught your horrified stare. click.

there was no fighting this. jungwon was playing with you and getting a laugh out of it. mustering what courage you had, you turned back to jungwon within the few seconds you hand, cupped his face, and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. you heard him gasp as the final click went off.

at last, the photo booth was wishing the two of you farewell. you hardly processed that you had just willingly kissed jungwon’s cheek for the sake of the photos, and by the looks of it, jungwon wasn’t really processing it, either.

“two can play at that game,” you muttered, reaching out for the curtain to leave.

but before you could, jungwon nearly pounced on your hands, shooing them away from the curtain, and briskly moving themselves down to cradle your hips. your head whipped around and your eyes met jungwon’s, your faces inches apart.

“was that you being silly?” he asked, his voice low.

that crimson heat forced its way back up to the skin of your cheeks, much to your dismay. “what would you do if i said no?” you whispered.

he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, his fingers tightening around your waist. he pulled you closer, your bodies now pressed against once another.

“i wouldn’t let you leave this booth,” he replied.

as a sharp inhale entered your mouth, both of you were startled out of your trances as a loud banging could be heard from the door.

“are you done yet?” sunghoon asked from the outside. “we’re hungry and out of tickets. hurry up!”

“coming!” you yelled out quickly, composing yourself enough to hastily push the curtain to the booth to the side, allowing the light to display your close proximity with jungwon.

sunghoon had turned around and walked to the rest of the group as you slowly made your way out. but before you could step completely out of the booth and back into the arcade, jungwon grasped your wrist.

you whirled around and saw his facial expression in full view. you felt your breath hitch at how intensely he stared at you, his eyes observing you closely.

this isn’t over, he mouthed to you.

with a huff, you exited the photobooth completely, taking the two sets of photos. when jungwon got out, you gave him his.

he looked at the set of four photos, smiling knowingly as he pressed a soft kiss to it.

“we’ll get back to this later,” he said to you. and by the looks on his face, you knew he was telling you the truth.

the two of you met up with the group before walking out. you couldn’t help but keep peering at the photos you two took together.

you were definitely blushing now.

[insomniadreamzz]

Imma go combine two requests in that one.

Request 1: i was thinking if you could write something like jinx using her shimmer speed for fucking?

Request 2: If you still take requests, and when you get a chance, could you do a G!P Jinx x fem reader? The scenario I was picturing was that they are cuddling with the reader in Jinx's lap, and the reader is sort of grinding against her as they try and reposition themselves. And they're unaware of what it's doing to Jinx and eventually Jinx has enough and and fucks the reader right then and there.

———

My good girl

Mentions of G!P, smut, rough sex, overstimulation, blowjob, bratty Reader, dom!Jinx

You finally got Jinx away from her work bench, cuddling for a while now, you straddling her lap while your head rested in the crook of her neck. You loved cuddling with her, inhaling her beautiful scent. In moments like this even Jinx was calm, not being her usual bubbly self. The only thing that you could hear was her calm breathing and feeling her hand caress up and down your back. Jinx showing affection like this is a rare thing so you enjoyed every second.

„I love you.“ You whispered, your breath tickling her a little, she pressed a kiss on your forehead. „I love you too.“ You loved hearing her say that, slightly shifting on her lap to reposition yourself a little, feeling how Jinx‘s body tensed up but she didn’t say anything yet. You did move again, your crotch grinding against hers and you leaned up to have a better view of her now, you could see her cheeks being flushed red and her expression showing a little bit of weakness. You didn’t think about anything not innocent so you didn’t really understand why she looked at you like this.

„What? You okay?“ You giggle innocently, placing a soft kiss on her lips, as you do so you shifted again. „Ngh…fine that’s enough.“ Jinx groaned as she flipped you over, now being on top of you as she pushed you into the mattress. „Don’t you think I noticed this?“ She grumbled as her hands pinned yours down, she was being serious but you still didn’t get it. „Noticed what? We were cuddling.“ You mentioned and she let out a little sigh before pressing her clothed crotch against yours, making you feel her bulge.

Your cheeks instantly heat up, surprised by her getting excited so fast. „I-…I didn’t think you would get that hard because of a little shifting.“ Your words made her grunt, rolling her eyes annoyed. „Yea sure. You grind against me and think I won’t get hard? Nice try love, I am gonna give you what you deserve for lying to me. You know I hate being lied on.“

Even though you didn’t lie at all to her and just wanted a innocent moment with her without thinking about your own movements and what they would cause, you felt excited to see what she will do to you so you just played along with her. Telling her you didn’t do it on purpose won’t work on Jinx anyways if she is stuck in her own mindset. That’s what you learned about her very fast.

„Mhh…so you wanna put your little brat in her place?“ You just went along with the little game, not knowing what it would cause. „So? You’re so confident aren’t you? Let me fuck that confidence out of you then.“ She said with a husky voice, sitting up to remove her pants to let her hard cock free. Before you could react she grabbed you by your hair, making you sit up and shoved her cock inside of your mouth. „That’s it…use that bratty mouth on me.“ Jinx groaned as she moved her hips, letting her cock slide down your throat, making you gag a little bit on it. You tried your best to please her, letting her go all in and as fast as she wanted, your tongue swirling around her cock, hands placed on her hips to keep you up.

When she had the feeling she shut you up enough, only hearing your muffled moans and looking into your teary eyes, she decided to pull on your hair as she made you lean back a little, her cock and your mouth being connected by a string of your saliva as you looked at her beautiful pink eyes glowing of excitement. „That’s my good girl…I am not planning on giving you the pleasure to swallow it this time. I‘d rather want to make a mess out if you. Brats do deserve that.“ Her smirk was very evil, you knew that look on her face. She really meant what she said.

Jinx removed your pants and panties as well along with your shirt, wanting to have you fully exposed to her, smirking playfully as she gazed down at you, spreading your legs to see you being dripping wet for her. Your own hands move to your breasts, wanting to touch yourself but Jinx didn’t like that idea, giving you a little slap on your wet pussy which made you whine out loudly, whimpering after. „No touching. I am gonna touch you, your hands better stay away if you don’t want me to slap you again.“ She commanded you before adjusting herself properly between your legs, moving her cock inside of you deeply without a warning, making you moan out. „Ah! Fuck Jinx!“

Jinx only smirked playfully at your reaction. „Didn’t I tell you I will fuck the brat out of you?“ She didn’t wait for you to get used to her size as she started thrusting her hips inside of you, both of you ending up being a moaning mess, your tummy making a little bulge each time she thrusted into you made her know she was just hitting the right spot. Her eyes started glowing a lot again, a sign that showed whenever she used her shimmer which made her thrust into you in a inhuman speed, making you moan uncontrollably as your legs clenched around her, reaching your orgasm as your juices spilled all over her cock.

Jinx didn’t think of stopping yet, throwing her head back as she moaned out loudly, little strings of pink light following her eyds as she moved her head back. „J-Jinx! Stop!…I-I can’t-…ahh!“ You try to beg her to stop feeling overstimulated, not even able to form proper words, your whimpering moans cutting of your words. Jinx loved everything about this, looking down at you with such a needy gaze, you were wondering how she could keep herself from cumming.

„Naw…I am sure you can baby. You are my good girl. You can take it.“ She encouraged you, still pounding into you hard and fast, filling up the room with lewd wet sounds. Your juices helping her to slide in even more easier. „Hnng! You are so good for me, taking my punishment so good huh? Yes that’s it, good girl, my good girl.“ She groaned in between her moaning, biting her lower lip, a sign she was close and so were you, cumming again with a whine, your legs trembling underneath her, arching your back, tears of pleasure running down your eyes and finally Jinx reached her high as well, pulling out to cum on your lower tummy, making a mess out of you. „God…so sexy for me…“ She mumbled under her breath, jerking herself off on you before she leaned down, running her tongue along your wet folds, tasting your juices mixed together, feeling you twitch when her tongue reached your clit.

Jinx was satisfied for now, seeing you all done as you are still not ready to form words, being out of breath. „Next time don’t be so bratty and I will cum inside you instead~“ She said with her usual playful voice like she didn’t just dominate you and fucked you breathless.

She positioned herself back beside you, pulling you close to her chest as she began to be her soft, loving self again towards you, whispering so softly to you. „You’re mine, remember that.“ You just nod, feeling your body already feeling sore and she knew that, keeping you close to her until you both eventually fall asleep in each others arms.

[hai7ani]

Main masterlist (recommended to read moth to a flame before this) | cw smut, light exhibitionism/voyeurism

She: Interlude

Rindou has been pretty clingy with you lately, you realise.

It hasn't always been this way before. He keeps you close, brings you places with him, and lets you hold onto his cards and cash that he keeps in a small Louis Vuitton purse whenever he's busy liaising with business partners in the club, or he's simply giving for you to spend.

He marks your body, buys you pretty things, keeps you near himself. Kisses you, hugs you, making you his.

He's very gentle and sweet with you, always. Never lets you wander too far away from him, and when you do, he with loving hands always beckons you back and wrapping you in his arms, in his warm embrace.

And you're very willing, too. You so like being close to him.

Even like today, right now, on his couch basking in the late evening sun, pretty orange painting your skins golden, and you're busy getting yourself off on his thigh, moaning into his ear on how good it feels, and he's kissing your forehead sweetly, holding you close.

It's pornographic with you two on the couch. He's got one hand palming your tits under the silky dress he'd made you try on for him earlier, the other just under your ass while he licks and bite on your collarbones.

Your panting is wild in the air, pretty head flung back to completely indulge in your bliss.

"Feels so good, ah一" Your eyes start to roll, feeling the waves rise, and you're so, so close.

God, you just wish he knows how good you feel.

You don't give him a warning when you feel it coming up in your abdomen, the knot about to snap一

And then goddamned Tsuji walks in when you're just about on the brink of your orgasm.

You immediately yelp in surprise when his shoes clack against the tiles and the heavy doors close behind him, but it's too late to stop and hide. The wave crashes just when you catch the poor man's eyes widening in surprise the last second before you burst, and you're digging your nails into Rindou's clothed back, crying from pleasure and trying so, so hard to hide your whimpers一

"Shit一"

He simply tells Tsuji to wait.

Takes a quick glance back over his left shoulder just to be sure his right-hand isn't looking or actively listening as you cum and moan from simply grinding on his flexed thigh, thick and clothed but all covered and sticky with your slick as you ride it out on him.

You're always his priority; you always come first.

"Shh," he hushes gently, the tone only for your ears while rubbing a soft hand on your back and he knows you're at the highest point of your bliss, "it's alright. Let it out."

You still try to hold it in, however 一 simply because you don't want anyone other than him to hear your cries 一 but it's not as deliberate as before. Your sweet mewls still manage to slip out a little and you turn your lips to his ear immediately.

As if you're trying to tell him, 'it is just for you.'

You feel him harden any more underneath, but he doesn't make any moves to get himself off. Very patient as he waits, and making his right-hand wait with him, too.

His lips are sweet as they press onto the side of your neck, cooing you softly and calming you down. You're warm, sticky and out of breath when you almost finish, holding onto his neck, squeezing him tight as you rub off the remnants of your orgasm on him.

You almost whisper something to your lover until Tsuji clacks his shoes again. As if to tell him that the time for sex has run out; that business comes now.

"Boss, it's urgent."

Tsuji is impatient with love and lust, unlike his boss.

He takes glance after glance down on the expensive, silver watch wrapped around his wrist, a thin transparent folder in hand, but he's still respectful to not look with his back turned around and facing the other wall.

Needless to say, you're embarrassed by the time you fully regain your senses. Your face flushes, palms turning clammy by the second, as you loosen your hold on him and hide your arms in between your bodies. It's warm from your body heat, and you let out a long breath as you blink 一 a result of your bliss, partly, and also from the whole getting-walked-in-on situation. Your clit is still sensitive and you hide a moan in his chest when he moves you gently to sit fully on both thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips on the couch. He yanks over a soft blanket from the side to cover you up, and only then he ushers for Tsuji to come. His chest rumbles with his low-pitched hum, deep, purple eyes still set on you when he combs your hair back and placing a quick kiss on your eyelids while you start to grow sleepy.

His treasure, he thinks. His upmost favourite one.

Perhaps the reason why he hasn't been letting you off alone lately, out of his watch, is because of what happened before 一 when he'd nearly lost you because of a fool who couldn't understand territories and possessions.

You're like a baby nuzzled deep into Rindou's chest when Tsuji rounds the corner to stand in front of his boss.

"Here are the files from the Busan deal," he affirms as he hands over the folder. Rindou flips it open and reads through its contents thoroughly, "it's a huge deal that she got you."

You're not quite sure who the 'she' Tsuji mentioned was. You had no idea of any other woman who was directly involved with the organisation. It's full of men 一 violent, scary ones. Men who aren't afraid to kill to get what they want.

But it's not like you know everything about his line of work and its complicated details, anyway. You're simply a girl that he picked up from the club and back to his own house that he treats like a gem all day long. You're not from his side of the world 一 that's for sure. Being a slut and being a higher-up of a criminal organisation in the most-wanted list are two completely different lives, despite existing in the same place known as the underworld. But sometimes when you're next to him in bed, or when you're sitting on him while he works as he goes on the phone with people, you still manage to connect a few dots yourself when listening.

You don't make it a necessity to ask, though. You prefer to not know the full details of things 一 the violence and its stories 一 even when your curiosity oftentimes scratch at your chest too eagerly and you're itching to understand.

You still don't try to ask what's going on when you spot the crease between his brows, the way his jaw tightens as he flips over to the next piece of paper. It's not about something good, you figure. He even seems pissed about it. It's not always that you get to see this look on his face 一 one full of seriousness, with frustration bubbling in his chest.

But even when he's focused on work and he's unsatisfied with the process, he still makes it a point to make you feel noticed and cared for. Like he's always there for you.

You like that a lot.

"You wanna go shopping after this?" He asks, tone gentle and eyes soft. Tsuji's eyes flicker to you instantly.

"I just got back," your eyes are round, full of confusion when they gaze into his own.

You're still self-aware, however. You respect it and him both.

"Do you not want me around?" You ask, words genuine and totally not baiting for his heart to be soft for you at all, because you understand that he has to work, and it's not exactly something clean that he can do out in public for people to see. "Well, I can go, uh," your mind scrambles for something at all, "I can go... swimming." You jerk your head to the private pool just outside the window. It's empty and with a pool cover.

"It's below 10 degrees tonight, darling." He lets out a short laugh while you blush from embarrassment. A warm hand slowly finds home on your waist, still.

"It's okay, just stay home tonight."

"When will you be back?"

"Not sure."

It's always like this with him. Never too sure on his own return, and never giving you a definite, guaranteed answer as well. He doesn't want to get your hopes up and make you wait. Sometimes he'd be gone for a whole day or two with no contact, and even weeks without telling when he needs to be out of the country and urgently for business, or hiding from the police. But he always comes home to you in the end 一 the quiet nights waiting for him always ends.

"Okay." You still understand. It's at least knowing that he can take care of himself better than anyone that puts you at peace a little.

When you prepare to get off his lap to let him go, shoes clack against the tiles again.

It's not the same sound as Tsuji's. This one is much more higher-pitched. Much more elegant 一 compared to a man's shoe. It's consistent and its footstep tells you it means business.

"I asked you to come to the office but you did not show up," a very stern lady speaks. Her voice is rougher than yours, much more dominant and in control.

Rindou visibly hardens beneath you, without any sexual innuendo. His face stoics and you can feel the tension in the air shift around by a good 360 degrees.

"I expected you to work on the deal at home, or wherever the hell you are nesting at. At least get me some ideas on how you're gonna pull it off一"

She appears in your view, finally:

Dark red dress clinging tight to her hourglass figure, gold earrings chunky and heavy hanging off her lobe, heels thin and high, and her perfume is way stronger than any of your own. She eyes you down from where she stands tall, gaze full of many, many sharp words that you could decipher just fine when she sees you in his lap hugging him like a koala.

"And you're here messing around with a girl."

She looks at you like she knows you, somehow, despite never seeing her in your life before.

"And who the fuck is this exactly?"

Rindou speaks up from beneath you, words directed to his right-hand whose face is as stoic as ever. You think she is the 'she' that Tsuji had mentioned before earlier, when he'd said something about a deal. Perhaps the Busan deal, you suspect. But you have a feeling he already knows who she is 一 just wanted to ask and assert some more dominance to be sure, since she's in his house and all.

He shifts you away from his lap and stands, hands tucked deep into his pockets and having a full face-off with the woman before him.

"Bonten's new advisor," Tsuji starts.

She folds her hands, lips curling into a big smirk. Her sternest in her appearance disappears in a flash and it turns cocky and playful, quick.

"Ōe Seina."

Seductive, carefree, but still in control when she greets.

"よろしく, Rindou-kun."

[timmydraker]

Tim who has never been good at understanding the words of Shakespeare and Dickens.

He can understand metaphors and knows about philosophy, but he’s always struggle to truely grasp the tragedy and helplessness so may of them hold. The idea of someone being doomed from the start, by the author and the narrative or maybe just the world they were set in, just doesn’t really make sense to him.

Part of him knows it’s because he was born with a vintage silver spoon placed delicately in his hands, but there’s more to it than that.

See, most of the bad things that have happened to Tim have either been consequences of his own action or the fact that his friends and colleagues all have the same dangerous job.

To him it just makes sense that bad things will happen and so he can just… prepare for it. He can do what he can to fix it or move onto something else and push away his own feelings because what else is he supposed to do?

So, no, things like Hamlet and Dorian don’t really click for him

At least… until he thinks about Jason.

Born in poverty with a world surrounding him that would not bother to care or offer help to him purely because of how he looks of his parents.

A mother who loves him endlessly, only to fall into the drugs she tried to protect him from.

Finding out that mother didn’t even give birth to him, but the father that never showed anything other than distain and cruelty was still his own.

Being given Robin, hated by the first one for a time, only to die in the suit by the hands of a mad man all because his real mother sold him out.

Waking up in a coffin, digging himself out and roaming around catatonic and the only thoughts he can actually process is that he must be a ghost.

Being taken by a league of killers, lied to and trick and tormented into thing a perfect weapon.

Realise his mentor, who he once thought the father he deserved to have, has failed him and let his killer free because of something as fickle as a moral compass.

Seeing that mentor seemingly replace him with a perfect rich kid who doesn’t swear or complain or sneak off without permission from what he can tell.

Having no real friends in that time.

Having no one to trust because everyone had an ulterior motive. Everyone uses him.

And through out it all, even with all the hate and the bitterness and injustice he had been faced with, his first course of action is to make the home he first had and the only one he will ever have… safer.

To protect the kids like him from becoming statistics and killers, from the pain he felt and the false promises of the Batman.

Jason keeps honesty and integrity, even when no one else offers it to him in return.

Tim can’t understand Macbeth or Antigone or Othello, can’t see why someone would write something so morbid just to try and entertain.

But he can understand, or at least try to understand, Jason Todd.

Because that is someone who had actually been hurt for no reason. Someone who had been tormented by the universe, by fates and coincidence, with no real lesson being taught other than the world hates him.

Sure Jason has Roy and Biz and Artemis and Kori, but what about a brother?

Dick tried, he still does, but he fails Jason over and over by trying to make him ‘better��.

Damian doesn’t really care too much, not out of malice but there’s just not much of a connection between them.

Cass tries, but Jason is always awkward around her and that’s not his fault, you can’t hide a thing from her.

Duke liked Jason a lot, but again, the newest Bat is trying hard to find his place in the world of vigilantes and can’t quite find it in himself to be too close to Jason’s violence.

But Tim…

He’s morals have always been held together by the simple fact of ‘it’s not really that approved of’ and not much else. He won’t kill, but unlike the others he is happy to leave a Rouge in a sinking ship and not feel a hint of guilt.

He adores Jason’s Robin, he knows to some extent how much he lost with that, and now he knows that Jason might not need much more than a few good things.

Small things, nothing that will trick him into thinking the world is apologising because it won’t, but enough to show him that Tim thinks he’s still worth something.

Tim won’t try convince him to become a better person or to stop killing, he might ask him to be a bit more rational and probably won’t be able to stop himself from giving tips on how to run his business, but he wouldn’t ask for his violent brother to change.

Because unlike everyone else, Tim knows that violence exist for good reason.

If it keeps his Jason alive, Tim will gladly hold onto his blood soaked hand.

[crepezinhos]

Sucumb to the Sin

POV: You and Sunday are currently trying for a baby, but as you two do it, the task turns out to be harder than Sunday thought it would be, so he decided to listen to his sinful friend’s advice to try achieving it… and he fell in love with it. Art Credits

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a fluffy NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— AU is: Modern

— Virgin!Catholic!Sunday x Virgin!Catholic!Reader

You swallowed.

Don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare…

You repeated to yourself in your head over and over while staring at the blank white roof above you.

But the way you could hear noises of silver tingling and clanking, then noises of a zipper being pulled downwards, made your heart accelerate its pumps with anxiety and unease.

I swallowed.

Don’t stare too much, don’t stare too much…

I repeated to myself in my head over and over while trying my best to not succumb to the temptation while staring down at her… breasts.

But the way they moved up and down according to her slow breathing made butterflies kick my stomach, whether I wanted to feel them or not.

“Are you… Are you ready, my love?” You heard his voice speak calm and low above you, his body slowly leaning down so he could make better eye contact with you.

“I…” You stared back at him out of respect, although it was a very hard quest. “I am.” You nodded your head, confirming your consent.

One of Sunday’s hand moved down and gently stroked his own length, very cautiously positioning it between your folds, right outside your hole. Sunday couldn’t help but sigh very hard in anticipation, feeling your wet flesh almost making him slip inside.

A little hic of anticipation escaped your lips when you felt his tip touch you, knowing it was probably going to be a little painful to lose your virginity. You pressed the pillow under your head a little harder, trying to get ready for it.

“Don’t worry… I’ll be gentle.” Sunday whispered, and his hips finally started hooking forward as soon as he saw you nod again.

You really tried keeping your hands in the pillow as his length begun stretching your insides, but you just couldn’t. They savagely reached up to Sunday’s shoulders midway and your nails begun crawling on them.

“AaaAHhh!!” You screamed in pleasure and slight pain, causing Sunday to pause almost immediately.

He somehow managed to hold a grunt of pain down his throat due to your nails.

God almighty.

Why the heck does this feel so weird but… so good?

No matter if Y/N is hurting my shoulders, my body feels like it’s begging to keep—

…

… No. I shouldn’t be thinking about this or… desiring this.

This is really one of the most dangerous sins, isn’t it..?

I quickly shook my head away from these thoughts and focused my eyes back to Y/N.

“Are you ok?” His voice was very sweet, trying to comfort you the most he could.

“S-Sorry…” Your wings instinctively moved forward and covered a bit of your eyes from him. “You can… keep moving…” Sunday nodded as soon he heard your weepy voice giving him consent.

He unpaused his initial thrust, the skin of his hips finally slapping against yours after a few seconds pushing in.

“Ah…” He couldn’t help but groan out of the pleasure he felt and relief of finally being able to drop his elbows to the bed and relax his arm muscles.

As the Bible says…

“Halovians ought to cover their eyes during the act with their cranial wings.”

So that’s exactly what I did next, finally respecting Y/N’s privacy and the Bible’s prophecy.

“You can move…” You consented again, lowering your hands to his wrists, trying to find better comfort, while your cranial wings repeated Sunday’s actions.

Here it comes…

The moment Catholics most fear throughout their lives trying to obey God’s checklist for Heaven.

Resisting the temptation of carnal activities.

But… it is unfortunately the easiest way you and Sunday could afford to breed a child.

You remembered your friends, who were definitely not a member of your religion, describing in a few conversations how it’s not easy for women to reach what you need to ‘complete’ this session of carnality…

An ‘orgasm’.

It made you wonder multiple questions. Why is sex a way to procreate? Is it a test from God? Were your friends being realistic about their claims? Were you and Sunday going to have to stay in such awkward situation for a long time?

It didn’t matter. Sunday begun to move.

He slowly started pulling out and pushing in again, trying to treat you and your virgin body like a wet pot of porcelain.

Although you knew agreed with Sunday being gentle at first, so he wouldn’t hurt you, you found it weird how he didn’t seem to be trying to increase stimulus. He kept slapping his hips against yours as slow as a snail and at a disappointing strength that barely made you even feel his length around your gummy walls.

You deeply love Sunday with every corner of your heart, but… does he know how to do this..? How to take lead on this..? Because… you don’t think either of you would ever achieve an orgasm at such an embarrassing pace like this.

Am I… doing this right?

This is how you do it, isn’t it?

Then why is she not making a single noise rather than a few of grunts that sound uncomfortable..? This awkward silence is killing me but there can’t be a better way than this.

Any other way to do this is merely lust. Lust is a sin.

Remember to not succumb, Sunday Oak.

To make your embarrassment worse, you realized just how it felt bizarre to have Sunday’s naked hips touching yours and feeling his dick reach such intimate depths of you, especially whenever his testicles tickled your skin every time he went down too.

Testicles are a… funny organ… to say the least.

Oh, my God, you were actually sharing your nudity to him.

“How do you feel..?” You heard Sunday’s voice above, sounding a little hoarse due to the effort he was doing to thrust you.

“Ok…” You awkwardly answered the most honest opinion you could give him without offending him, attempting to cover your face even more due to an instinctual fear of him possibly looking at your nudity.

‘Ok’? That doesn’t sound good.

But I… I can’t do nothing greater than this, can I?

This is probably everything that the Bible allows me to do for this kind of process…

Still, even if your answer was an obvious ‘yellow flag’, for the next minutes, you just kept yourself laid down under him like that while he kept thrusting your insides in that same boring formula.

Slow pace, weak thrusts, slow pace, weak thrusts, slow pace, weak thrusts…

Was it even doing something to his body? Because yours felt as normal as ever, and even… empty.

Is this even doing something to her body? Because mine feels as normal as ever, and even… empty.

God, what an embarrassing situation.

All you two have to do is to make Sunday ejaculate inside you, yet it doesn’t look like you two are even trying to reach it. It actually looks like that you two are torturing yourselves.

The weak soggy noises coming from his thrusts filling the room accentuated the awkward silence even more, and neither of you could help eachother. You’re both not allowed to moan due in this process according to the Bible, especially you, a woman.

You and all women, who heir Eve’s sins, that could only possibly be purged with procreation, are a danger to men, and you’ve always done your best to not make your dear husband get close to make a sin.

If you sin, Sunday can fix it for you.

But if he sins, it’s over for the both of you.

And you love him too much to make a mistake that would lead him to go to hell.

I gently spread my wings away from each other, finally giving me the answer I was looking for.

Her face seems relaxed too, with only a few exceptions whenever she decided to let out a grunt. She was doing such a good job at keeping her moans jailed inside her body, but this body of hers is—

Stop it, Sunday! You’re not supposed to be looking!

But… does that mean I also can’t… do other things to her..? As long as I’m not looking, could I…

What was it again..?

“Ratio, I need to ask you something…” Aventurine banged his cup at the table as he called Veritas’s attention.

“What?” Ratio made sure to also place his cup down at the table out of reciprocation with his friend.

“Have you ever made a woman cum yet?” Such a lewd question made Sunday’s eyes widen in shock immediately, but Ratio remained unmoved by its lewdness, letting out a chuckle while taking another quick sip of alcohol. “I mean, you’ve slept with a lot of women yet, haven’t you? You’ve surely—” Aventurine felt pressured to contextualize his question.

“One of the easiest equations I’ve ever done.” He responded, taking an extra, unnecessary sip from his drink as a prize for his achievement.

Babysitting drunk Aventurine alone was hard enough, but accompanied by another drunk-head was definitely a challenge for such a pure guy like Sunday.

“How do you do it? Topaz kept complaining about it to me last time we did it and I promised I would make her orgasm next time!” Aventurine threaded his fingers in his hair in stress while venting.

“I’ll pray for the both of you tonight.” Sunday commented, trying his best to focus singularly on the book he was reading rather than the God-offending ambient around him, but he wanted to be there for his friends if they needed him.

“The clit.” Ratio initiated, but Aventurine seemed to be a little lost in the matter. Sunday couldn’t deny his own confusion and curiosity too. “The little bulge above their vaginas. That’s the clit.” Aventurine finally seemed to understand his words and nodded in excitement like an obedient dog.

“Yeah? What about it?” He sounded like an excited kid.

“Mess with that while you fuck her g-spot. Fingers, mouth, whatever. It makes women go crazy.”

Do I… really need to do that?

Dang it…

You felt the left side of the sheets become lighter, meaning that Sunday had taken of his left hand away from there.

“Y/N…” He moaned your name very lightly. “Do you mind if I… touch you?” Sunday’s wings were flapping due to the enormous embarrassment.

“W-… What..?” You found that question really random and… sinful.

“I don’t think this is taking us anywhere, so…” He paused his hips. “I want to try… making this… feel a little bit better.” As soon as you heard those malicious words come out of his mouth, your wings spread wide away from each other too, meeting him staring at you.

And you took it as an offense.

For how long he has been staring at you?!

“S-Sunday, that would be a sin!” You immediately moved both your hands down to your boobs and covered them.

“But, Y/N, how else are we gonna going to make this work?! We’ve been like this for the past 5 minutes now, which should’ve been enough to make at least one of us close to an orgasm according to the Priest!” Sunday decided to pull his length out of you, getting turned off by your immediate discomfort, rolling his body until he was sat in the edge of the bed.

You sat up too, but not moving close to him.

“I feel horrible about doing it too, Y/N, but an in-vitro fertilization costs almost 5,000 dollars.” Sunday threaded his fingers on the hair that was resting in his forehead, as if he had some sort of headache. “It would still need me to commit a sin to get my sperm anyway… both are pointless.” His voice sounded more defeated and stressed out, which made your heart melt in worry and regret of being so rudd.

You decided to redeem yourself and crawled closer to him, careless about the fact that both of you could clearly see each other’s genitals now.

“Oh, Sunday…” You hugged him by the neck sideways, your breasts rubbing against his arms with no bad intentions. “I don’t know… I believe my advice would be useless and dangerous to you.” Sunday looked at you likr you had offended him rather than yourself.

“Don’t say that, Y/N.” He turned his chest to you. “I fell in love with you and married you for a reason. I don’t think you’d ever make me do a bad choice.” His face leaned closer to yours, gently smooching your lips.

“Sunday…” Your hands moved up to his cheeks, wanting to hold his face that close to yours.

“I’ll take all responsibility for this decision.” Sunday’s hands reached down to your hips and started threading your bodies together again. “I won’t… touch you too much, I promise. It’ll be very little. Just until we reach an orgasm, ok?” He reassured you once again and paused for a beat to organize his thoughts. “I mean… we’re just… trying to make the most sacred thing in the world… a baby, aren’t we?” Sunday started to gently push the both of you down to the sheets again.

The way he whispered about your objective made you feel a little sparked again and your wings instinctively reached for your eyes again.

“No, no… Don’t do that.” You could feel Sunday’s breath itching your nose as he positioned between your legs again, and you felt obligated open your wings again, meeting his eyes dark with anticipation as he admired you from such an intimate proximity. “Let’s do this together. Eyes open.” You felt hands move up to thread with yours, perfectly pining you against the bed.

“Are you sure, my love..?” No matter your worry for his decision, you still complied to him and hugged his hips with your legs, preparing for his entrance.

“Yes, my dear.” He very gently reached his lips to smooch yours another time.

But you couldn’t help but reach your wings to his head, trying to make that quick smooch become a kiss, one of that quickly became deep, warm and intimate. As you two spent some seconds savoring each other’s tongues and dancing them around as a pure demonstration of love and care, you started to feel his length beginning to make way inside you again, accompanied by his wings embracing your head underneath your wings too.

Sunday grunted in your throat at how your gummy insides were already more aroused and welcoming than before.

Perhaps my comforting words made her feel better?

I should… remember that.

While you were distracted by his dick feeling thicker and longer inside you, a hand of his climbed down to where you two were fully connected, and a sudden feeling of his index touching your raw flesh made your legs shiver in pleasure.

“Is this it..? Your clit..?” Sunday asked when he found a little bulge right on top of your hole, fully dependent on his touch to tell what’s your clit or not since he didn’t want to take his eyes off yours.

“Y-Yes!” You moaned as Sunday started touching it with more fingers and delicacy.

He had no idea what Dr. Ratio meant with ‘mess with it’ that day… he assumes that he should just… rub it around with his thumb while his passionate thrusts melted you.

“Aaahhh! Sunday!” You couldn’t help but scream and squirm with the amount of pleasure he was serving you now compared to before.

Your pussy instinctively tightened around his length, which made Sunday uncontrollably let out a louder, sinful moan. He wasn’t expecting such a dramatic reaction coming out of you with so little effort, but he couldn’t deny it that he definitely didn’t hate it.

“And this... this is your g-spot..?” He paused for a moment just to grinf against that sensible spot of yorus that made you quiver immediately.

“Ah, yes! Right there, right there!” You hated how your human instincts were making you act that out of your mind, making you beg like an unholy prostitue for him to continue fucking that spot of your walls, but Sunday was equivalently responding to you, nodding at your answer like an obedient nasty dog.

And havng nothing else to do and see rather than your teary eyes and sweaty hair, Sunday decided to reach his mouth down to yours again, sealing your wet lips shut in a serious kiss.

Fuck.

This is good.

This is really damn good.

Oh, God, forgive me… this is really hard to resist.

You felt Sunday’s knees climbing upward, forcing your hips and legs follow his due to your connection, now in an angle where your genital was barely facing the entire roof.

And finally, Sunday started quickening his pace with the help of gravity making his thrusts deeper and harsher against your g-spot. No matter if your mouth was being devored by him, you couldn’t hold back all the petty moans andn screas that needed to come out, and Sunday didn’t dare making you stop emitting them.

“Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” You hated to part away frm his lips to make such slutty noises, but the position simply favored your pleasure way too much for you to ignore it.

You thought it was very mean of him to keep rolling your clit with his thumb even if you were already stimulated enough.

And Sunday took it as a compliment, a living proof that he was doing way better this time. The addicting way your warm, soggy walls were embracing his cock so passionately and your moans echoed in his ears were definitely stimulating him into insanity.

This can’t be that sinful, right?

I’m just making love to my wife and myself so we can have a baby. We’re just… pleasuring each other with the biggest level of intimacy a couple could ever have, aren’t we? It’s love. And this might be my purest demonstrtion of love because I’ve never felt this good pleasing my wife.

And, God, I promise you… I’ll never do this out of lust…

Your hands felt bored being so oppressed against the sheets and finally crawled away from his grip, reaching his back instead and hugging him closer to you. You decided to repeat the same movements with your legs too, somehow trying to make him reach even deeper corners of your walls.

Sunday decided to crumble his only hand that was keeping him in that position, making his chest fully attach to yours, the fluffy dough of your breasts making him let a deep, long grunt again.

“Huuummm… Ah! Aaah!” You were surprised at how Sunday’s tough character broke voice, beginning to repeatfly moan in an erotic, broken tone.

Oh, God… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!

You decided to be a little dominant this time and you were the one to take Sunday’s lips, making him shamelessly whimper inside your mouth.

You were whimpering with him too while his precise thrusts perfectly punched your g-spot over and over. If only you could roll your head backwards and see stars on your own to not let the pleasure overhwlem you, but it was perfectly pleasing to be threaded Sunday like this.

Nothing else mattered to the both of you anymore.

You were feeling every raw corner of each other.

“I love you, Y/N…” Sunday suddenly whimpered, a thick chord of saliva connecting both your tongues.

“Oh, Sunday, I love you too..!” Your hands couldn’t help but roll upwards and hook his hair with the tip of your fingers, carelessly hurting his sweaty, blue scalp.

“I can’t wait…” A tear fell down from his right eye, pausing to moan at the feeling of your pussy gushing his crotch. “I can’t wait to have a baby with you, my love.” His cheeks flushed as he thought of the scenario of your bloated belly or you breastfeeding a baby in your arms.

“I can’t wait for it either, Sunday..!” Your back arched and your legs spread further, trying to facilitate his sloppy thrusts inside you so you could reach your objective faster.

“I’m gonna… fill you up…” His eyes darkened with that overwhelming lust that he couldn’t hold back anymore. “Make sure that we’ll only need to do this once…” Sunday’s thrusts started building up into a more erratic pace. “Impregnate you in a single round…”

“Do it, Sunday! Do it! I’m feeling so good!” You tried your best to not say anything more obscene than that, but at the same time attempting to incite him into achieving his orgasm.

“Are you gonna… cum with me too..?” Sunday’s eyes widened, trying to get an answer out of you from your eyes.

“I think I am..!” Your hands clawed his head more violently, causing Sunday to groan.

“Fuck, honey, I’m sorry…” Both of Sunday’s hands suddenly slammed the sheets by your head and he rose his chest again, forcing your hands to fall down to the pillow again.

Sunday’s cranial wings were fully spread due to the stimulation, flapping and shivering while his eyes locked in your bouncing body.

“Sunday, you can’t—!” You tried turning your head to side and covering your eyes from the intoxicating view of Sunday’s upper body while your hands tried to make a barrier infront of his eyes.

“N-No..!” A hand of his quickly reached one of your hands. “Please… let’s look at each other for… stimulation.” His words slowly convinced you to turn your eyes to his again, but with a lot of embarrassment and resentment, and your hands held his wrists again just like at the first try.

Oh, God… how gut-wrenching was to see Sunday’s chest moving and up and down frenetically while ripping your virginity away, and that irresistible fucked-out face, hyperventilating to survive.

Sunday’s cock slowly started to feel thicker, as if your pussy was swelling around him even harder than before.

“Aaahhnnghh! Sunday, I’m close!” Sunday growled at the view of your body curling under him, giving him such a twisted, erotic view of you that made his cock twitch in the spot.

He had to swallow all the accumulated saliva pooling in his mouth so it wouldn’t drip down on you like a starved predator, although that wouldn’t be a bad alternative either.

“Let’s do it together, ok?” He tried his best to remain calm and sane for the sake of ‘purity’.

You nodded weakly and Sunday started pinching your clit rather than just rubbing it in loops, trying to tick that orgasm out of you. Your head rolled back once again, and Sunday took the opportunity to lean down and kiss you in multiple spots, starting from your collarbone to your neck and jaw as a way to comfort you through that building climax.

“It’s coming..!” He grunted with a lot of effort, his heart aching due to exhaustion it was going through.

And finally, with a final thrust of his, you started feeling a whole load of a hot liquid being spilled inside you mercilessly. No matter if Sunday had thrusted you the deepest he could, he still kept pushing his hips inside you while pulling your hips closer, trying all his best to make sure that you’d drink in every drop of him cum so he wouldn’t need to sin with you like that anymore.

Your whole body spasmed accompanied by a desperate scream, feeling your womb release all of your buildup with Sunday like a firework bring fired. You were absolutely surprised with that new feeling, not expecting such ecstasy to overtake your whole body so easily.

Sunday was also grunting in a high volume, but still sane enough to bite his inferior lip and hold most of it back.

Lord almighty..!

I never expected this to feel so—!

Argh!

Control yourself, Sunday!

Neither of you knew what to say. The more that sensation of orgasming dissolved, the more you two quietly stared at each other’s face, beginning to feel guilty immediately while still trying your best to not look down at the rest of his body.

You saw Sunday swallow hard again.

“We’re…” It still seemed like Sunday was too distracted by the view of your flushed face to continue speaking properly. “We’re done.” Even though his words claimed finality, his body didn’t dare move a single inch out of you.

“Yeah…” You were too distracted by his sweaty face too.

“Ok…” He awkwardly mumbled, and after some other seconds staring at you, he finally covered his eyes with his wings once again, and begun the process of pulling out.

You, as obedient as you’ve always been, decided to cover your eyes too, and let the moment finally be over.

As soon as you felt Sunday’s body moving away from you to get up, the first thing you did was immediately sit up and cover yourself with the sheets of the bed.

You had finally seen your husband, who you’ve known for over 5 years now, naked.

You could hear the sounds of the bedroom’s bathroom’s sink running water and noises that reminded you of someone washing their hands.

I have seen Y/N naked.

I have seen Y/N naked.

I have seen her breasts.

I have seen her vagina.

I have seen Y/N naked.

You couldn’t help but pout in your mind about the fact that you technically didn’t actually see Sunday’s penis.

It wouldn’t be that bad if you peeked at it when he came back, right?

Ok, Sunday, breathe in… breathe out…

You’ve exhausted her and yourself.

Is she even ok..?!

“Y/N.” You heard his voice back to his normal tone again.

“Yes..?!” You were awaken from your perverted thoughts, slightly getting scared with his call.

“Are you… ok?” His voice sounded a little bit more low and embarrassed now as he’s asked that intimate question.

“Yes…” You were embarrassed too.

“Do you want me to bring you a cup of tea?” His body lingered against the wall that separated the bathroom and bedroom.

“I… sure.” Your mouth watered at the thought of drinking a good cup of tea, now realizing how your throat was dry.

“Ok.” You heard his steps slowly becoming more and more distant.

After a few minutes of silence in the room, and many noises of things moving in the kitchen, he came back to the bedroom, still naked, with half his face censored by his wings.

“Sorry, I…” You finally realized Sunday was carrying an entire tray of appetizers and that he was walking towards you too. “I was a little thirsty too.”

“It’s ok! Thank you for… bringing more than just tea.” You gently placed your hands on the edges of the tray, trying to replace his grip with yours, but that caused him to twitch, rumbling many of the glasses in the tray.

Luckily, none of the cups had fallen, but you had to hold one to make sure it wasn’t going to fall.

“I-I’m sorry!” He quickly let go of the tray as soon you were officially carrying it.

You giggled in response.

“It’s ok, Sunday…” You quickly placed it down at your lap and started exploring the menu of sweets while your back relaxed at the fluffiness of the pillow.

Be a man, Sunday!

It’s just your wife!

Your… naked wife.

…

Oh, God, why did I remember that?

“I brought your favorites…” You saw his wings tightening around his head, practically blinding him entirely, finally giving you a chance to…

…

Oh,

My

God.

How did that fit inside you..?!?!

He’s gigantic and he’s not even hard anymore!

You quickly censored your naughty eyes using your white feathers and tried focusing on the food.

“Thank you.” Your voice sounded more unstable now that you were a little embarrassed again. “You can… lay down. No need to keep watching me.” You tapped the sheets beside you, and Sunday immediately took the order.

He quickly walked to your side and sat down on it just like you, staring at the wall ahead of you two blankly.

Neother of you could help but remember.

The wet, slapping noises.

“I feel so good!”

“I love you, Y/N…”

“Do it, Sunday! Do it!”

“Impregnate you in a single round…”

Both your wings shivered remembering those moments and dramatizing them with your own little fantasies.

You, imagining this more dominant and confident Sunday, particularly trying to make you feel the most pleasure between you two.

And Sunday, imagining this more submissive and loving woman, smiling and enjoying every ounce of his dick inside you, praising him and embracing him.

While you enjoyed your lunch, he couldn’t help but become more and more nervous about the fact that he wasn’t doing anything at all. He was just sitting and staring at the wall after finally having sex for the first time in his life. How pathetic could that be?!

“It was good.” He suddenly blurted, making you turn your head to him immediately in shock.

Although you were munching the sweets he brought you, you were also doing nothing rather than stare at the wall, which was why you got so shocked at listening to his voice out of nowhere.

And you didn’t what to say.

A). Pretend like you didn’t hear so he’d feel more comfortable in stating that confession again.

B). Thank him.

Or…

C). Reciprocate.

And at the desperation of the moment…

“Thank you… Itfeltgoodformetoo.” You quickly rambled your confession to not overload yourself with embarrassment.

B and C.

Sunday couldn’t help but feel glad when he heard that, his wings flapping gently as a response. Yours were barely flapping too, but you were really trying to not let that happen, and was succeeding.

“May I have a piece of—” Sunday begun reaching his hand to your tray, and you immediately leaned it closer to him.

“Yes.” He was surprised at your instant reaction, but he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity given to him.

You and him shared food with each other while still staring at the wall to reflect over what tou two just did, now with the tray between you too. Your hands sometimes bumped at each other, which made the both of you flinch, but quickly, your hands finally couldn’t feel nothing on the plates with sweets rather than their glassy texture, nor would any liquid slide to your mouth whenever you placed the cup on top of your inferior lip.

Finally, the tray was carefully put on your nightstand, and you finally laid your whole body down, turning your body to the wall instead of Sunday.

He was a little concerned when he saw you neglecting him like that, his eyes stoned at your sleeping figure so hard you could feel his stare. When he laid down his whole body too, you didn’t feel him choosing a side, meaning he was probably staring at the roof at this moment.

Did I… take it too far..?

Was she lying about her liking it?

Is she scared about the fact that I’ve sinned and made her sin too?

Oh, God… I messed up, haven’t I?

After a few minutes of attempting to rest your brain, you finally felt Sunday moving in the bed.

And… you were feeling him move closer to you.

You felt something touch and embrace your hips from behind, making you immediately look backwards.

“Y/N…” Sunday’s sweet voice whispered in your ear, truly apologetic. “I’m sorry if I… scared you. We can go to church tomorrow as soon as possible to repent—” His embrace became a little tougher as he tried to compensate you.

“Scared..? I’m not scared…” You really didn’t understand what Sunday meant with that apology, cutting him off before he could get you even more confused.

“You… aren’t..?” You felt his head move upwards, trying to take a better look at your whole face, feeling warmer seeing how normal it seemed.

“I’m just… a little embarrassed.” You looked away from his mesmerizing face again.

“Oh…” Sunday’s wings almost closed his entire face again as he remembered the act you two just did, but after confessing that, you finally felt a little bit more… free.

You started worming in the bed, trying to turn around in a way that wouldn’t move too much of Sunday’s hand in your hip, and you finally managed to do it in a few seconds.

“I really hope I get pregnant…” Both yours and Sunday’s wings flapped with your words.

Is it ok to wish she doesn’t get pregnant?

…

Probably no…

But…

“Do you think it’s ok if we kiss each other right now? Despite being naked? Because I really want to kiss you right now.” Sunday’s cheeks darkened in red as he also confessed his affection, his wings indecisive rather they flapped away or in direction of his face.

“I… I think it is…” You immediately started leaning your head closer to Sunday’s.

And it didn’t take him a second to reach your lips.

Nor did it take him another second to use his arms to embrace the back of your chest. Arms, hands and fingers, all clinging into you while you two shared a passionate kiss at 12 AM.

Taglist: @komelliko

(Not tagging anyone else because I don’t know how you guys feel about Honkai Star Rail posts)

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

[saphiccarma]

- Post Bellum

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - After the military, you're left fumbling with your life, unsure of what to do. In comes the prospect of private contracting, and you get hired by two insanely hot women.

Warnings: ✨Trauma✨

A/N: this is more of an intro chapter, but there is more to come I promise. This isn't going to be so much so a series, rather a bunch of interconnected one-shots with some semblence of a timeline and plot

The army was never really your choice. Both of your parents had been in the military, your mother in the air force and your father in the navy seals. They had met afterward, bonding over shared trauma, and eventually they had a kid. A kid, you, who was pressured into joining the army and beating your parents’ standards. A kid who suffered a lot during her deployment. A kid, who retired from the military at a young age, early twenties because you joined as soon as you were eighteen. Your father joined when he was twenty, your mother twenty-two, so of course you had to beat that record as well.

While you regretted signing up, you did have some good memories. Hanging out with your crew around a small fire, only letting it burn for a little while so as to not draw too much attention, chatting softly. Or sitting in the dirt, a gun pressed against your shoulder with blood and tears covering your face. You remembered sitting in the barracks after grueling hours of training, sweat dripping down your back and soaking your shirt through while you laughed, exhausted.  

After the marine corps, the division you were in, one of the hardest ones, you wanted peace. You wanted to live a peaceful life without flinching at every little sound and having to take the night shift. You wanted to live a life without being paranoid that someone would leap out and jump you, or that a barking dog would charge at you. Everything that reminded you, even the slightest of your time serving, set you off. It was impossible to get a moment of peace.

Your parents suggested therapy, part of the reason you lived in N.Y, but after one session you quit. New York supposedly had one of the best post-military therapy groups. It was a bunch of bullshit where you talked about feelings and shit. Nothing you were interested in. Not that they knew that. You told them you kept going and that it was helping.  They called you often, but half the time you ignored their calls, claiming you were busy. To them, you were living a good life. A life where you had a good job and you were okay.

But you weren’t okay. You still woke up in cold sweats, looking around your room with frantic eyes as you searched for potential threats and your hands tightening around the gun you kept on the bedside table. Screams echoing in your mind, whether they were from children or adults – your own or your friends. The shadows in your apartment seemed darker, more ominous than they looked when you were a kid. Your father wasn't there to protect you anymore, nor your mother, hugging you tight and placing a tender kiss on your head. The shadows, the invisible monsters, were supposed to go away once you got older, but they only got worse. And your parents weren’t here to help.

They lived across the country in L.A while you were in New York. It was a decision that you regretted, but you had paid months in advance for the apartment, so there was no going back. It was constantly moving in N.Y, a constant source of noise that never stopped, even at night. A lot of sleepless nights occurred because of that. New York never slept so you rarely did.

Point is, you couldn't rest. Peace never came no matter how hard you tried. You tried all sorts of hobbies, bird watching, knitting, sewing, reading, video games - everything. You tried it all and only the last two stuck really, but they did nothing to stop the constant buzz of fearful anticipation that ran through your veins. You were constantly on edge, unable to turn off your senses. New York was far too loud for you to settle down and you wished that you had chosen someplace else to stay.

An old friend, one of your mentors from the military, suggested private contracting. You had called him one night, breathless and wide-eyed. Desperate for someone to remind you that you were safe, that none of your fears were real. He soothed you, his voice calm over the phone before he suggested contracting. So, you figured out how to sign up for it and listed your services. It turns out, that after some research, private work paid a lot. Like a lot. If this worked out, you would be rich in no time.

You ran a hand down your face as you stared at the blue light of your computer, emails sitting dauntingly in front of you, all of them marked unread. The clock on your computer told you it was 3 am, a common occurrence for you. Within just a couple days, you had about dozen people reach out. And you thought you were ready. Yet simply clicking on a single email seemed like an impossible task. The idea of committing to a person, surrendering part of your control felt like too much.

Fingers twitching on the mouse, you closed your eyes before scrolling then randomly selecting on one. Looking over it, you thought that maybe this wouldn't be so hard. Two women, both married, in need of a personal bodyguard. Both rich, successful, lawyers who had made a lot of enemies over the years. They were looking for someone to accompany either of them throughout the day. You chewed on your lip as you thought it over, looking at the name at the end of the email. Agatha.

With your sleep-ridden brain, you somehow thought it was a good idea to respond now, and you clicked reply. It was tempting enough. They were offering a shit ton of money that would have you set for a long while. You managed to type up something coherent, agreeing to meet up with her tomorrow, absently typing in a time and place. Some coffee shop you visit often. You slammed your computer shut, jumping at the noise it made.

You settled back into your bed, setting your gun down onto the table next to you and sitting up against the headboard. Your eyes flickered around the room constantly, hardly able to rest at night. The shadows in your room were screaming at you, voices of the past that pleaded for help. As much as you wanted to squeeze your eyes shut, block out the noise and try to quiet your mind, but you couldn’t. That would mean being vulnerable.

 Eventually your eyes started drooping shut, exhausted from days spent with little to no sleep, and it was already 5 by the time you fell asleep.

^______________^

Your neck hurt when you woke up, a small line of drool streaming from the corner of your mouth. A sign you slept heavily. Wiping it away, you glanced at the clock groggily, jolting when you saw the time. You threw the sheets off you, scrambling out of bed to get dressed. It was 10:30 and faintly, although just barely, you remembered you were meeting up with Agatha at 11. The shop was a good walk away from your apartment. It was nice to have that little bit of exercise in your routine. Not that you didn't go the gym every day and run until your lungs were screaming and lungs were burning.

You brushed your hair and your teeth, groaning at the apparent eye bags. You threw a pair of nice pants on, at least ones that were presentable, and a shirt. A jacket was thrown over that shirt with loose sleeves that allowed mobility. You clipped your holster onto your belt, making sure you had your concealed license in your wallet, and you tucked your gun into its spot. The last thing you wanted was the get stopped because you didn’t have your license on you. Sliding your boots on, you made sure that a knife was placed in there, a backup weapon just in case you needed it. With one last pat down, making sure your laces were double knotted and secure, and your belt was tight, you rushed out the door.

And you turned promptly back around, slamming your shoe against the door to prevent it from closing. You forgot your keys and the printed version of the contract. After they were both successfully nabbed from where they had been carelessly thrown, you were racing down the stairs. Children screamed from inside their parent's apartments, and you tried not to flinch or close your eyes and freeze up right there. Instead, you rushed out of the apartment complex.

The bustling streets of New York hit you like a semi-truck, crashing into you with surprising force. You took a deep breath. You did this every day. It was just people. You could do it. Slowly, you took steps, weaving through the crowds of people. You ignored the way your heartbeat uncontrollably in your chest - it was a common occurrence by now. You were hyper aware of the people and everything they were doing A man reached into his pocket rather quick and you nearly drew your gun.

You followed the roads with practiced ease, even despite the hammering of your heart and the way your ears perked at every little sound. It took a while to make your way through a bunch of people until you reached the cafe. It was a nice corner in the wall shop, quiet with hardly anyone in there most of the time. The prices were cheap, the workers were not loud at all, taking your order with a polite nod. You appreciated it. They seemed to know you like the quiet, not even trying to strike up small conversation like they did with other customers.

Heading up to the counter, you inhaled slowly to calm your breathing before ordering a large iced coffee with two extra shots. That should help keep you awake. You took a seat, fiddling with your thumbs nervously, for some odd reason. You weren't sure why you were nervous. Your coffee was served, and you spent the time anxiously sipping on your drink, relishing in the way caffeine helped wake you up. And after what felt like forever, the door opened, and two very elegant looking women walked in.

You choked on your breath, nearly doing the same to your coffee. It was very clear that they were your soon-to-be employers.

The first had brown hair that was pinned up into a bun, blue eyes shimmering as she glanced around. Her eyes were calculating and cold but held a tint of warmth that you were able to pick out.  Pink lipstick adorned her lips that were pursed into a thin line. She was dressed nicely, with boots that clacked on the floor with every step she took.

The other had similar hair, except hers was wavy instead of curly, falling elegantly down her shoulders. Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown that seemed as if they had infinite secrets. Her own steps were silent, quieter than the subtle music that drifted through the cafe. You liked that immediately.

The blue-eyed one spotted you first, her lips pulling into a small smile before she made her way over. You stood, your chair pushed back a bit louder than intended and wiped your palms on your pants. You didn't bother to force a smile onto your face, rather just nodding in greeting.

"Hi, my name's Y/N," you introduced, your voice steady and calm. You had half a mind to stick your hand in greeting, but just the thought of it made you internally shake your head. It was relief when neither of them offered their hand.

"Agatha," the blue-eyed woman introduced, her voice silky smooth, "This is Rio."

Rio grinned, her smile cat-like, and eyes glinting with mischief. It instantly set you on edge, "Y/N is a beautiful name," she purred. She tilted her head, brown eyes taking you in.  

You cleared your throat awkwardly, "Can I get you guys anything to drink? Or do you just want to dive right in?"

"Rio will get us some drinks. You and I can get started." Agatha slid into the seat across from you, her long fingers folding in front of her. You sat across from her.

You weren't sure how long it took to go over the terms of the contract, discussing it all in great detail. Both of you had to know what was happening, all the exact terms of the job and what was expected from you as a private contractor, and from her as an employer. Rio joined after retrieving drinks, sipping on her own as she leaned back into her seat, casually crossing her legs. She reminded you of a cat. Calm and composed with a silent smile that spoke volumes, her body portraying so many of her thoughts.

Agatha was different. Her micro-expressions gave everything away, all of her thoughts. One of the many things you had taken from the military was how to read people. People expressed themselves in various different ways. Whether it was clear, voicing their exact thoughts whenever they wanted to. Others were more quiet, only speaking when prompted, but their bodies gave away more than they would like. Little movements, the tensing of their arms, shifting of feet, hunched shoulders - it all gave something away. Rio was one of those people. Agatha wasn't either of those people. She was the quiet commanding type. Tiny expressions on her face, the little twitch of her nose or slight curve of her lips told you what she was feeling. She was a perfect mix of voicing her thoughts yet keeping them close to her chest.

They were certainly an interesting pair.

By the end, you had gone through your entire cup of coffee, and you were still exhausted. Agatha gave you a little smile, her eyes shining with a small bit of hope that was just hardly visible, as she stood from the table.

"I will meet you tomorrow at our place? I'll text you the address." Agatha had gotten your phone number right before the conversation ended. Her words left no room for negotiation, and you nodded, standing from your own seat.

"Yes ma'am."

Rio grinned her smile wide, and you faintly heard her whisper while she walked out with her wife, "I like her."

Taglist: @poppyshuman

[woozinhos]

thinking about how dino is fucking you in the right places hitting the spots and placing his palm on your lower belly, asking if you can feel him in your guts 😵‍💫 i feel like he would absolutely do that whilst smirking and being all cocky at how cock drunk you are

Anon I had to stop what I was writing and I had to write this oh my god I hope you enjoy 🤭

Dino grins down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of smugness and satisfaction as he continues to thrust into you. He knows exactly what he's doing, hitting all the right spots and making you see stars with every movement. He reaches down and places his palm flat against your lower belly, feeling the way his cock is moving inside you.

"Can you feel me, baby?" he asks, his voice low and teasing. "Can you feel me deep inside you?"

You can only nod in response, your words failing you as pleasure washes over you in waves. He smirks at your reaction, his hand pressing down slightly as if to emphasize the feeling.

"Good," he growls, his eyes dark with desire. "I want you to feel every inch of me, to feel how I'm claiming you from the inside out."

He shifts his position slightly, angling his hips to hit even deeper inside you. He can feel your body responding to him, the way your muscles clench and tighten around him with every thrust.

"You're so tight," he groans, his hand still on your lower belly. "So hot and wet for me."

His fingers trace the outline of his cock on your lower belly, feeling the way it moves in and out of you with each thrust.

"Fuck," he mutters, his eyes fixed on the sight. "You look so damn good like this, all filled up with me."

He continues to watch, his eyes filled with a mixture of possessiveness and desire.

"I love seeing you like this," he murmurs, his hand still tracing patterns on your skin. "All mine, all spread out for me."

He can't help but smirk at the look on your face, your eyes glazed over with pleasure and your expression completely blissed out.

"You're so cock drunk for me," he says, his voice low and amused. "It's so damn hot."

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You're completely at my mercy right now, aren't you?"

He nips at your earlobe, his hand still on your lower belly, feeling the way your body reacts to his words.

You glance down, your eyes widening as you see the outline of his cock twitching beneath his hand. He lets out a low chuckle, his eyes darkening with lust as he sees you looking.

"See what you do to me?" he growls, his hand pressing down slightly against your stomach. "You make me lose control like no one else can."

His pace becomes more erratic, his hips moving faster as he feels his own orgasm approaching.

"I'm so close," he grunts, his grip on your hip tightening as he holds you in place. "You're gonna make me come so hard."

He pulls out of you just in time, his cock slick with your juices as he takes it in his hand. With a low groan, he strokes himself a few more times before he comes, his release spilling out onto your stomach in hot spurts.

He watches as his cum lands on your skin, his chest heaving with exertion. He runs his fingers through the mess, smearing it all over your stomach as he admires the sight.

"Look at you," he says, his voice rough with satisfaction. "Covered in my cum, marked as mine."

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Don't forget the feeling of me inside you, baby. The way I filled you up so perfectly."

He nips at your earlobe again, his hand still tracing patterns in the cum on your stomach.

"You're mine now, completely and utterly mine."

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Fifteen Months

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: You've known and loved Din for Fifteen Months. Here's a glimpse into your life with him. Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v sex , oral (m and f receiving), fingering, voyeurism, fucking on camera, cum eating, lap dance, sex work, din carries you, duck pond emotions, a spray painted mandalorian helmet, goats!, farm life. Words: 8,700

Fifteen Masterlist Masterlist

—-

“Morning,” a rumbly voice says against your forehead with a kiss. “We have two new kids.”

Your eyes open wide, your heart leaping with excitement as you jump out of bed quickly. Din hastily backs away with a grin on his face.

“She had them?!” you ask as you pull on a pair of pants and grab your robe.

“She did. She’s doing good,” he says, smiling at your excitement. “The babies are healthy and happy, already nursing and everything.”

You run down the steps, Grogu at your feet. Boba’s waiting at the front door, standing guard, his tail wagging in greeting when he sees you.

Din leans over and kisses you as you throw your jacket on and step into your boots.

“Oh, good morning, by the way,” you chuckle as you throw the door open and feel the early morning chill of spring in the air.

You wrap your jacket tighter around you, your boots squishing in the dewy grass as you follow Din to the little shelter on the side of the main goat pin.

Dorothy looks up at the sound of the gate creaking. Your favorite goat looks peaceful as her two new babies are cuddled close to her.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you coo, softly stepping towards her before kneeling down to pet her head. “Look at your babies. They’re perfect.”

“Were you up all night with her?” you turn and ask Din.

“Just about,” he yawns.

“You could have come and got me,” you say, rising and dusting the straw off your knees.

“I wanted you to get some sleep,” he replies, his eyes heavy with fatigue but a little brightness, too. “Besides, I wanted to surprise you.”

Din steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you back against him.

“They’re so perfect,” you muse, watching the little kids stand on wobbly legs and find their footing in the new world.

“They are,” he admires, tightening his hold. “Cobb’s on his way. He’s going to take care of everything since I was up all night.” 

—-

As the weeks turned to months together, the long-distance from Din almost became unbearable, it kept getting harder and harder to leave Din and his farm every time you’d visit him.

So, you sold the townhouse you had worked hard to pay for on your own and moved across the country to live with Din. The idea of being separated any longer had become too much to bear, so you left behind all that was familiar to be with him.

That was five months ago. Dorothy, your favorite goat, started showing signs of her pregnancy only a couple of weeks after you moved in.

Wicket the rooster's crow is now your alarm clock, waking you up every morning in Din's arms, his handsome face only inches away. It’s hard to pull yourself away from his warm arms and soft lips, but the farm chores are waiting for both of you.

Together, you tend to the herd, milking the nannies and bottle-feeding the playful kids who frolic in the pasture. Din's gentle patience for you and all of his animals never fails to fill your heart with love.

During the afternoons, while Din takes care of the farm repairs and building projects, you tend to the garden–your hands buried in the rich soil as you plant and nurture fruits and vegetables that will eventually grace your table.

Evenings are spent in cozy domesticity with Din and your dogs, curling up next to him on the porch swing to watch the sunset paint the sky as Din’s fingers caress your skin.

At night, after all the chores are done, you still do your webcam shows, but no longer for private customers–a decision you made on your own once you left Din’s home the first time.

Din always helps you set up the equipment and watches off-camera, his heated gaze watching your every move.

You’ve embraced Din, his farm, and his life—much like he embraced you and your choice of career. You could never imagine your life without him. This life, with its simplicity and authenticity, is everything you never knew you needed, a blissful escape from the hectic pace and superficial trappings of your old life.

And you couldn't be more grateful for it all.

—-

“Din,” you whisper in his ear and leave a kiss against his cheek. “Cobb just left. It’s almost time for my show.”

Big brown eyes blink open, a smile lights his tired face.

“Hey,” he yawns. “Can’t believe I slept that long.” His hand reaches out and grabs your hip, pulling you into bed with him. His stubble scrapes against your skin as he rolls you onto your back and kisses you. His hands run along your body, slipping under your shirt to caress your soft skin. You melt into his touch, fingers tangling in his messy curls, and you sigh against his lips.

He trails kisses along your jaw down to your neck, his tongue tracing lazy patterns on your skin. You can’t resist him, arching into him, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer. His broad body covers you like a warm blanket.

His hand slides lower, hooking into the waistband of your pants. Just as he starts to tug them down, you very reluctantly break the kiss.

“Hold up,” you pant, struggling to catch your breath. “Ugh, the show…”

He groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I knooow,” he grumbles.

You laugh softly, soothingly running your fingers through his hair. “Want to help me tonight?”

He lifts his head, an eager and mischievous glint in his eyes. “I do.”

“You want to pick what I wear?”

Without a word, he rolls off you and strides over to the dresser, rifling through your collection of lingerie. After a moment of deliberation with his eyes studying two different bodysuits, he puts them away and grabs the same blush pink lingerie you wore the first night he and you slept together.

“Really?” you arch up an eyebrow. “That one?”

“Call me sentimental,” he smirks. Tossing you the soft, silk outfit. “Put it on pretty girl.”

“Sentimental, huh?” You grin as you shed your clothes, Din’s eyes darkening as he follows your every move.

The silk slides over your skin as you remember the first night you stayed with Din - the nerves, his declaration of love, the tenderness of his touch, and the realization that he meant everything to you.

You smooth your hands over the fabric, straightening the straps and admiring how it fits.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

You heat under his intense gaze. “Come on, we need to set up,” you say, grabbing his hand and leading him to your studio.

—-

You’ve noticed a change in Din since you moved in with him. He’s no longer the solitary man—quiet, reserved, and focused solely on his work. As your love blossomed and you grew closer, he began smiling more readily and laughing more freely, his eyes always sparkling at the sight of you.

He used to be guarded—even a bit gruff—but soon, you saw beneath that exterior, sensing a tender heart. Now, you see that tender heart every day. The way he gently cradles a newborn kid in his strong hands. The way he kneels down on the floor to pet and hug his dogs every morning. The way he always makes your tea the exact way you like it every evening.

He’s actually playful, sometimes chasing you across the house before capturing you and ‘attacking you’ with his mouth, or dipping you for a kiss in the middle of the kitchen.

Sometimes he’ll surprise you while you’re outside hanging laundry, sneaking up and wrapping his arms around your waist before gently tackling you onto the grass. His strong arms enveloping you as he pins you beneath him, his eyes twinkling with love.

“Caught you,” he rumbles before pressing his lips to yours.

You love seeing him like this, happy and carefree. He was once your customer in a dark box, just a curious stranger, and now he’s everything to you.

—-

You check the lighting and adjust the camera tripod while Din settles into his usual spot just out of frame, putting on a pair of headphones, close enough to be heard but not seen.

You take your familiar position on the bed, knees bent to your side, with one hand supporting your weight as you lean back. As you pout your lips and adjust the strap on your top, you nod at Din, signaling that you're good to start.

“Ready?” he asks, his finger hovering over the button to start the stream.

Taking a deep breath, you slip into your online persona. “Ready.”

The red light blinks on and you smile at the camera. “Hi everyone, thanks for joining me tonight…”

As you interact with your audience, you can feel Din’s eyes on you. You steal glances at him between poses, noticing how his breathing quickens whenever you arch your back or run your hands along your thighs.

“What should I do next?” Your question is directed at your viewers and yet you know Din can tell you’re asking him.

He grins, lifting his hand into view, his finger curling in a beckoning motion.

“Yeah? You want me closer?” you purr. The chat explodes with messages of excitement.

You lean forward and crawl slowly towards the camera, risking a glance at Din, sitting in his chair shrouded in darkness, his brown eyes turning almost black when you wink at him.

Your hands trail sensually over the silk fabric of your tank top. “What should I take off first?” you ask temptingly.

“The top,” Din’s voice rumbles from off-camera. “Slowly.”

A shiver flows through your body at Din’s voice, this is the first time he’s ever spoken while you’re performing. You reach for the buttons on your shirt, teasingly undoing them one by one. The silk falling open to reveal your bare skin underneath.

The chat goes wild.

“Like this?” you ask, shrugging the garment off your shoulders and letting it fall to the mattress.

“Perfect,” he growls. You can see him palming himself through his sweatpants out of the corner of your eye.

You bite your lip, fighting every urge inside you to look directly at Din. The camera and your customers demand your attention, but you can only feel his eyes on you.

“What next?” you ask breathily.

Din’s voice husks through the air. “Touch yourself,” he commands in a low tone. “Slowly.”

Your hands slide down your body, tracing delicate patterns across your stomach before dipping lower. The silk of your shorts feels smooth against your hand as you tease and rub yourself through the fabric.

“Feels so good, when your hands are all over me,” you moan into the camera. “Feel how wet you make me? I’m so fucking soaked for you baby.”

Din grunts from the darkness as you arch your back and press your breasts together.

“Should I take these off?” you ask, pushing down the waistband of your shorts.

The chat dings with responses, but you wait for Din’s command.

“Yes,” breathes out from his lips.

You slide the shorts down inch by inch and toss them playfully towards Din’s direction before spreading your legs wide, your hand slipping between them, stroking yourself slowly. You moan as you work your fingers in small circles, your hips rocking against your hand.

You hear Din’s breathing grow heavier.

“Mm, it feels so good,” you purr. “But chat… do you think I should have some help?”

He leans forward, his brows rising in surprise. You’ve never asked Din to join in your cam sessions before, but seeing him in the background, watching you every time has become too much. You want him to be a part of it now.

Your audience sends a wave of thumbs ups and enthusiastic messages.

“Baby,” you say breathlessly, “come here.”

He hesitates for a moment before standing up and moving to the side of the bed, just out of frame. His brown eyes are wide with surprise and desire as he reaches his hand out towards you. The chat goes wild as his hand comes into view on camera, trailing up your leg.

His touch is warm and reverent as his fingertips finally brush against your wet folds. “That’s it, touch me,” you moan, relishing in the feel of Din as your customers watch.

His fingers explore you slowly, spreading your wetness and tracing lazy, soft circles around your clit. You lock eyes with him as he slips a finger inside you, momentarily forgetting about the hundreds of viewers on the monitor.

Din nods his head towards the screen, reminding you that you’re at work. You look back at the camera, as Din slowly fucks you with his thick finger.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside me,” you pant for your viewers, losing yourself in Din’s touch. His thumb finds your clit, brushing softly against it. “Just like that.”

He smirks as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. Your back arching as you push your breasts together and tug at your nipples.

“More,” you gasp between moans, your body beginning to tremble as the chat goes crazy watching you lose yourself under Din’s touch.

He responds immediately, adding another finger and stretching you. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he says, his voice thick with lust.

Your hips lift to meet his hand, seeking more pressure, grinding your pussy against his palm. "Talk to me baby, they want to hear you talk to me,” you beg.

His brows furrow in thought, his thumb brushing circles against your clit while his fingers fuck you deeper. “Let it go baby. You’re gorgeous, you like my fingers?”

“Yes, god yes,” you moan as his hand worships your cunt.

“Cum for me baby, show them how I can make you cum.”

“Oh god,” you cry out, your head falling back onto the mattress as you surrender to his touch, breathing hard as your hips cant against him. “I want you,” you beg, leaving the thoughts of your hundreds of viewers behind.

“I’ll give you what you want soon enough,” he promises. “Keep going for them.”

The pressure is building within you, your heart racing and when Din angles his fingers up, that familiar heat pools in your core, every nerve ending dancing and tingling across you.

“Gonna—” you whimper.

“Just a little longer,” he urges, his voice low. “I want them to see how much I love making you feel this way.”

You nod, breathless, your body set alight. You can hear the distant sound of notifications and gifts pinging from the chat, but all you can focus on is Din and his thick fingers.

"I'm so close," you gasp as his thumb presses firmly against your clit. He quickens his pace, fingers moving faster and deeper until your body can't take it anymore.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Cum. Cum for them.”

Din pilots you closer to your peak. Your thighs quaking around his hand, your cunt clenching his fingers as your body begins its ascent towards bliss.

“Oh god,” you moan.

“Cum for me baby,” he growls. “Let go.”

The world explodes around you, stars floating through your eyes as your entire body convulses. Your breath hitching, the world narrowing to just you and Din as you orgasm, gone are your viewers, gone are the dings from the speakers.

“That’s it baby,” he coos. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.”

Your body trembles in the aftershocks as he brings his soaked fingers to his lips, eagerly tasting you. Only you can see how his eyes close in pleasure as he licks his fingers clean.

“You did so good for me—and them,” he praises, his own breathing ragged as he pulls down his sweatpants.

"Thanks for tuning in chat, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get fucked by my helper,” you say winking before clicking the DISCONNECT button.

Din pounces on you, pinning you to the bed with his muscular body. "Be careful!" you yell. “The equipment!”

Din grins widely as he kisses you. “Don’t worry about the equipment, I’ll set it back up later,” he growls against your lips. “Right now, I’m going to take care of you.”

With one smooth motion, he flips you over onto your stomach. You gasp in surprise as his strong hands grip your hips, pulling you up onto your hands and knees.

He kneels behind you, his hardness pressing against the cleft of your ass. You moan and push back against him, wanting to feel more of him. He chuckles at your eagerness and gives your ass a playful smack that makes you yelp.

“Guess you liked helping me?” you breathily ask.

“I did,” he runs his hand down your spine. “You want my help again?”

“Always,” you breathe, arching your back to present yourself to him.

He groans at the sight of your glistening pussy, swollen with desire for only him. He leans down, placing a tender kiss at the base of your spine. “Look at you, all ready for me, pretty girl.”

His strong thighs brush against yours as he lines himself up with your aching cunt. The broad head of his cock teases your folds as he coats himself in your slick. You moan and push your hips back as you try to take him in.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as your pussy accepts him into your tight heat inch by inch.

He sheathes himself fully inside you, filling and completing you. A low groan rumbles from DIn’s chest as he bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your ass. “You feel incredible,” he rasps, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“I’m yours."

“Yeah? You’re mine? This tight, wet pussy is all for me?” He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he nuzzles into your neck. His stubble scrapes across the sensitive skin. “Mine,” he hisses possessively. “My beautiful girl.”

He fucks into you faster and harder, the bed you use to touch yourself for your customers now creaking and thudding against the wall from Din’s power. You fist your hands in the sheets, holding on as Din pounds into you. You feel another orgasm in your orbit, the stars beginning to show behind your eyes.

“I’m close,” you whimper. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” Din pants. “I’ll never stop loving you, taking care of you, making you feel this good…”

His words makes your orgasm rocket through you, your pussy clenching rhythmically around Din’s cock as you see a galaxy across your eyelids.

Din keeps thrusting, grunting with exertion as he fucks your soaked cunt, chasing his own release.

“Fill me with your cum,” you urge breathlessly.

“Fuck, I love you. I’m gonna—” his hips stutter and with a deep thrust, he buries himself inside you. A warrior’s moan tears from his throat as his cock pulses, painting your walls with his cum.

Your arms give out, and you collapse onto the bed, Din follows you, lying down next to you. The two of you lay together, panting for air, a tangle of sweaty and sated limbs. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his heaving chest. You nuzzle into his neck, planting soft kisses along his jaw.

"That was amazing," you murmur. "Having you with me on camera like that. God, it was so hot."

"Mm, it was," he agrees, his voice a low rumble.

"Maybe we should make it a regular thing. I'm sure my viewers would love it."

“As long as I don’t have to show my face, I’d love nothing more. I love watching you, but being able to touch you in front of your audience. I can’t believe I used to be one of your customers.”

You chuckle softly, snuggling closer against him. "And now look at us. I know way more about goats than I ever thought possible and you know way more about live streaming sex shows than you ever thought possible.”

He laughs and tilts his head down to leave a kiss against your forehead. “I never imagined I could be this happy. This farm feels like a real home now, with you here.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

—-

As the warm, late spring weather rolls in, your days on the farm become even busier. The goat kids are growing bigger and braver, exploring more of their surroundings each day. Your nights are spent performing shows for your many viewers, the addition of Din’s hands and voice have driven you watcher views up. You both notice more gifts and chat messages from female viewers, it empowers the two of you to put on even more of a show for them. With a bit of ingenuity and a can of silver spray paint, you’ve come up with the perfect solution for him to not show his face.

Din sits in his office, going over invoices and the calendar as you saunter in wearing one of your favorite dresses.

"Din," you catch his attention.

He turns in his chair, an adoring smile lighting slowly spreads across his lips. "Yeah baby?"

“I thought of a solution for you to not show your face,” you say with a small smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, giving you a curious look before he obeys and shuts his eyes.

You quickly open the closet and pull out the surprise, placing it in his hands.

“Okay, open now.”

He opens his eyes to find a silver helmet in his hands.

“So, that one dude you like from that space movie? I ordered one of his helmets…”

He admires it, turning it in his hand.

“The bounty hunter “ he muses quietly. "My favorite."

“I was worried about copyright soooo I painted it silver instead. But this way… you can be on camera with me without anyone seeing your face.”

His dark brown eyes look up at you, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. 

“Put it on Din.”

His handsome face is slowly covered by the silver helmet.

“It even modulates your voice a bit…”

Din sits clad in his black sweat pants and black t shirt now with the silver helmet atop his head, making him look even larger and more intimidating. His shoulders sit higher, giving off an aura of power and dominance.

“How’s it feel?” you ask, staring at your bounty hunter disguised boyfriend.

“Good, just fine” his voice comes out different from the speaker. A little more tinny, crinkling with feedback—just like how you first heard him through your computer speakers. You’re ridiculously turned on by it. 

“You look… good," you admire. “Really good baby.”

His posture shifts as he leans back, resembling a king with the helmet on… like it was made for him.

"Then, come show me how good I look, pretty girl."

You saunter over and kneel down in front of him, placing your hands on his knees slowly sliding them up his strong thighs as you look up at the expressionless helmet. Your heart races, imagining his eyes watching you behind the visor.

“Is this what you want?” you ask, fingertips grazing the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

“You know exactly what I want,” Din’s modulated voice responds, sending goosebumps across your skin.

You lean forward, nuzzling your face and placing a kiss against the softness of his inner thigh. Your hands move to the waistband of his pants. “May I?,” you ask, tugging gently. He lifts his hips, helping you slide them down.

His cock springs free. Your hands wrap around the base before you give it a firm stroke as you look up at the helmet.

“I love how you look in this,” you muse, before leaning into give the tip of it a kiss. “My bounty hunter.”

The sound of Din’s breath hitching is distorted through the helmet’s speaker. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, savoring the familiar taste of him on your tongue.

You hum around his cock at his praise, taking him deeper into your mouth. You know exactly how he looks under the helmet now. No longer your black square mystery. You can picture his eyes squeezed shut, his bottom lip captured in his teeth, the middle of his eyebrows creased in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts. The modulator gives his voice an extra edge, an extra growl.

Your tongue swirls around his sensitive head already leaking for you, imparting the bitter, salty taste of him against your lips.

“Look at me,” he softly commands.

Your gaze lifts to meet the dark visor of the helmet, imagining the deep brown eyes behind it.

“That’s my pretty girl,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

Your cheeks hollow as you suck him harder, his hips softly thrusting into your mouth.

“So good,” his voice crackles through the speaker. “Always so good to me.”

You take him deeper, choking on the length of him as you relax your throat. His breathing grows heavier, punctuated by grunts of pleasure and your name.

“Hold on, hold on,” Din says suddenly, gently pulling you off him. “Come here baby.”

He helps you rise to your feet, before pulling you onto his lap, your chest meets his. His strong arms wrap around you.

You straddle his lap, the heft of his hard cock presses against you through the thin fabric of your panties. His hands roam across your body, caressing you with reverence and adoration. The cool metal of his helmet brushes against your cheek as he leans in close to you.

“I want to feel you,” Din’s modulated voice rumbles through you.

You nod, lifting your hips as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down in a swift motion and tossing them aside.

A gasp leaves your lips as you sink down on him. You begin to move on him, rolling your hips in steady waves. Your hands grab his broad shoulders, relishing in the warmth of his body.

His voice comes low and husky through the helmet. “Take what you want pretty girl.”

“You feel so good,” you moan. “So big inside me. Just perfect baby.”

Din’s hips thrust up to meet you, his cock hitting deeper inside you.

“Din,” you moan, resting your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet. The rapid beat of his heart thuds against your hands when you place them on his chest. Pulling back, you look into the helmet, unable to see his face, but knowing the exact intense look of concentration he always has when he’s close.

He slides his hand between your bodies, and finds your clit, swirling it in sweet circles against it. A gasp escapes your lips and you smile at the pleasure coursing through you. Your hips instinctively buck against his hand, craving more of him. The pressure builds as his thick cock and skilled finger make you move more frantic. Your hands move up his neck to grip the base of his helmet.

“I…want to kiss you,” you whimper as you lift the helmet, exposing his handsome face.

The sweat across his dewy skin makes it glow even more golden. His plush lips are slightly parted as he looks at you with his big brown eyes. Leaning in to kiss him, the helmet slips from your hand and lands on the floor with a thud.

God, you’ve missed seeing him. Your fingers tangle into the soft, dark curls of his hair as you lean forward. “I love you,” you breathe out against his chin, kissing your way down to his neck, licking the slight salt of his sweat and tasting him.

Din's thumb increases its pressure on your clit as he thrusts up harder into you. "I love you, so much," he pants, his voice rumbling against you with desire and adoration.

Your core tightens, the familiar tingle that only Din can give you washes over your body. You trail your tongue up to his mouth and kiss him hungrily.

"Din," you gasp, breaking the kiss as your orgasm lights through your body. Shuddering in his arms, clenching around his thick cock. You lean back, letting him fuck into your slickness as your muscles grow loose.

With a guttural groan, he thrusts his hips against you, his movements stuttering as he follows you over the edge. His thick cock pulsing inside of your walls as he cums. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he buries his face in the crook of it.

For a moment, you both stay still, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms and trying to catching your breath. Din's hand runs soothingly up and down your back as you come down from your high.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, voice thick with reverence and awe. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"I'm the lucky one," you whisper back, reaching up to cup his jaw. "You've given me everything I never knew I needed.”

“Maybe I should wear the helmet—for your next show?” he asks, his eyebrow tilting up.

“I think you should,” you smile, guiding his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss. “I’ll let the fans know to expect something different.”

—-

As the weeks pass, you notice Din spending more evenings out in the old barn on the edge of the property. He always kisses you sweetly before heading out, promising he won't be long. But the hours stretch on, and on some nights, he’s out there long past bedtime.

Curiosity gnaws at you, but you respect his wishes to let his trips to the barn remain a mystery.

One night, as you’re sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and splitting corn bread with Grogu, Din returns through the back door with Boba happily trotting behind him.

“Welcome home,” you wink, standing to pour him a cup of tea.

“Mm,” he hums happily.

“Am I ever going to find out what you’re doing out there?”

“You’ll see soon enough, pretty girl,” he assures with a dimple deepening grin.

He steps behind you wrapping his arms around your waist as you pour him a cup. He nuzzles into your neck peppering your skin with soft kisses.

“Be careful,” you order, “the tea is hot.”

“Mm,” he tugs on your shoulder, turning you to face him. “I no longer want the tea.”

He grabs your ass, lifting you up into his hold. Your surprised yelp echoes through the room as you quickly wrap your legs around his waist for support.

“Din! What are you doing?” you giggle breathlessly.

He strides to the kitchen island, carrying you in his arms like a prized bounty and places you atop the cool butcher block.

“I want a taste of you,” he grins roguishly. His large hands skim up your thighs, bunching up the fabric of your dress.

“Oh god,” you roll your eyes. “You’re ridic—”

Your breath hitches as his hand reaches the apex of your thighs.

“No panties, huh? Were you waiting for me, pretty girl?” he asks, his finger tracing lightly along your bare skin, finding you already wet for him.

“Always,” you breathe.

He sinks to his knees before you, spreading your thighs wide and hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs as he nuzzles closer to your core. The cool wood and his warm touch sends a shiver through your body.

You gasp at the first touch of his tongue against your sensitive clit. He works his way around it with slow, deliberate licks and kisses, gently sucking and pulsing his tongue.

You moan loudly, tangling your fingers into his dark hair. He hums with appreciation against your skin as you pull the soft waves, urging him on. He laps at your arousal, drinking down the wetness you spill for him.

You press yourself harder against his eager mouth, he devours you, his thick tongue delving in and out of your eager cunt.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Oh my god.”

Your muscles begin to tense, your thighs begin to quake. Din’s tongue works tirelessly again your cunt.

“Close,” you gasp, your hips rolling against his face.

He groans as his tongue journeys up to your clit before flicking it rapidly against you. Two of his fingers slide into you, the stretch of them and the slow drag in which he pulls them in and out of you transports your orgasm higher. The familiar galaxy of stars Din always brings you twinkle behind your eyelids as you pulse against his fingers and tongue.

You fall apart atop the cool wood, with Din’s hot mouth against you working you through your orgasm, lapping up every drop you give him.

Your fingers comb through his soft hair, massaging his scalp with affection as he places soft kisses along your thighs.

“My tea’s probably cold by now.” he says, rising from between your legs and giving you a kiss. “Guess we should just take this to bed, huh?”

You chuckle breathlessly. “It’ll be a hell of a lot softer on my back than the countertop I can vegetables on.”

A wide smile spreads across his face as he lifts you up into his arms and carries you upstairs.

—-

“Ready for this?” You ask, holding the helmet out to him.

“I am,” he nods.

“I love you.”

He leans in, giving you a kiss before raising the helmet up to his head. “I love you too.”

Din sits on the chair, clad in his new helmet and his black sweatpants, his muscular, golden chest on full display for you, and soon, your viewers.

You hit the link to your show’s room. Your mouth drops at the amount of viewers waiting.

“Holy shit,” you gasp. “We have over 2,000 viewers.”

A rumbling hmph leaves the helmet.

“It’s just you and me,” you remind him.

“Hit connect baby,” he says, sitting up straighter and folding his arms across his chest.

You do as he says and hit connect. Hiding your nervousness and shock behind a sultry smile.

“Hi everyone,” you purr. “I see a lot of new faces here tonight. I guess word got around about my new costar.”

You sway your hips slowly and teasingly, the messages of your viewers illuminating the contours of your body as you let the anticipation build. Din watches intently, his helmeted head tilted slightly.

“Tonight,” you say, before glancing back to Din, “you’re going to watch me fuck my boyfriend.”

The chat explodes, gifts and tips fill the sidebar. Turns out, there is a market for this.

You turn away, stepping closer to Din, each movement slow and sensual as you dance across the room. You can see his breath hitch behind the visor as he takes in every inch of your body and each roll of your hips.

His face is totally concealed by his helmet, and yet you feel his eyes stalking you as you dance for him and your viewers.

Bending over, you plant your hands atop his thick thighs, gripping them and staring into the visor as you give him a wink and mouth “I love you.” His body tenses as he keeps his arms folded across his chest.

You turn your back to him, giving him a full view of your ass barely covered in the silver fabric of the thong he picked out specifically for tonight. You begin to move in rhythm with the music softly playing in the background, gliding your hands along the soft skin of your thighs. You turn slightly to look over your shoulder at him as your hands travel up to your silver bra unclasping it and baring your chest to the camera.

The speaker on the headset amplifies his breathing, reminding you of the first night you talked to him. Deep, steady breaths, sometimes a small grunt, maybe a light whimper.

You dance along to the song, dipping low before popping up with a twist of your hips, your hands charting a path across your skin, pinching and pulling your nipples before dipping down to the shiny straps of your thong. The snap of the fabric against your hip stings when you give it a playful tug then let it go.

"I’m soaked for you,” you moan, running your hand across the wet seam of your thong.

Turning to face him, your lips curl into a teasing smirk at the sight of him. The silver helmet may conceal his face, but his body's response to your dance is evident. His chest rises and falls in sync with his deep breaths, his arms now uncrossed and resting on his thighs as his hands grip tightly.

Slowly, you slink over to him and straddle his lap., reveling in the power you holder over him with your movements. Your hands land on his broad shoulders as you grind against the hardness straining against his black sweatpants.

“You like what you see, baby?” you purr, loud enough for the mic to pick up.

“Always,” his modulated voice rumbles.

You rock your hips, rubbing yourself against his bulge. Soft gasps and moans spill from your lips, your head falling back in pleasure. 

“Do you want me to keep dancing for you?” you ask, swirling your hips.

“Yes,” he hisses.

“No touching,” you kiss the cool metal of his helmet. “Okay?”

The helmet tilts when he nods an affirmative.

Sliding off Din's lap, your fingers run along his chest as you rise. With a sultry smirk, you turn and sway your hips as you walk a few steps away from him. The beat of the music pulses through the room as you begin to dance.

Your hands glide over your body, fingers trailing across your skin as you arch your back and roll your hips.

Slowly, you turn to face him, his helmet is tilted as he watches intently.

When you reach him, you place your hands on his wide shoulders and lean in close. "Eyes on me, bounty hunter,” you whisper, your breath fans across the cool metal of his helmet.

Straddling his lap once more, you begin to grind against him in rhythm with the music. Your hips roll and swivel, creating delicious friction between you. Din's hands clench and unclench at his sides, fighting against the urge to touch you.

“Remember," you purr, "no touching."

A groan crackles through the helmet's speaker. You grin, knowing exactly how much he wants to touch you.

Rolling your body on top of him, your breasts graze against his chest before you lean back, your fingers tracing the curve of your breasts and down your stomach to the waistband of your thong.

Din's breathing grows heavier, the sound crackling through the helmet's speaker.

You rise off of him and turn to face the camera, your fingers hooking into the waistband of your thong, teasing at the thin silver fabric. You lock eyes with the camera as you slowly peel the garment down, revealing your soaked cunt to your viewers.

Facing Din again, you lower yourself to all fours and crawl to him. Your hands gliding up his thighs as you rise, nuzzling your face against the tent of his pants before pressing your body against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him and the tension in his muscles as he fights not to touch you. 

Turning around, you lower yourself onto his lap, your back to his chest. Your ass grinds against his hardness, feeling it strain against his sweatpants.

You’re aching and wet for him, each light whimper from his headset pools even more wetness between your legs.

“Go ahead and touch me baby,” you moan.

Din's hands immediately grasp your hips, pulling you firmly against him. His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cup your breast while the other dips between your thighs. You gasp as his fingers find your clit, circling it slowly.

“Feel how wet I am for you baby?” you moan.

A muffled groan escapes the helmet's speaker, Din’s fingers exploring your slick.

You roll your hips against his hand seeking more of his touch. 

“You want me to fuck him, chat?”

A splurge of thumbs ups and resounding yeses fill your screen.

You rise off Din's lap and turn to face him, hands gliding down his muscular chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. Slowly, teasingly, you tug them down, freeing his hard cock, his tip thick and glistening with precum. There’s something about sharing Din’s gorgeous cock with thousands of your viewers. One of the first glimpses you ever got of him was his golden toned cock, and now, here in the home you share, you’re sharing it with the world. 

"Look how hard you make him, chat," you purr, wrapping your hand around his length and giving it a slow stroke. Din's hips twitch at your touch, a hiss of breath crackling through the helmet's speaker. You smile at him, proud of his bravery and enthusiasm for your job.

You straddle his lap, the tip of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance.

Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you take all of him in when you settle on his cock. His hands slide around to grip your ass, as you begin to move on top of him.

The stinging stretch of him inside you feels so familiar, and yet everything is different now. Now, thousands of people are watching you take his cock as he stays concealed behind the shiny, silver mask.

You grin down at Din’s exposed chest under the helmet before leaning down and taking his nipple into your mouth, sucking on it hard. If you can’t kiss his lips, you’ll kiss his body.

Din’s hips jerk forward, his cock hitting deeper against your tightness.

You lick your way up his body and kiss the metal of his helmet. "This isn't fair," you breathe out against it, "you look so fucking hot."

Din growls into the speaker, his voice modulated and deep as his hands slide up your sides possessively.

“Face them, show them how you take my cock.”

You moan loudly, at his words, quickly turning in his hold and sinking back down on him, taking all of his thick cock.

Your back presses against his broad chest, his hands wrapping around to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples.

"Ride me just like that, pretty girl," he rumbles. "Take what you need."

Din’s hands roam over your body, strong and calloused against your soft skin. His fingers find your clit, rubbing and flicking it just the way he knows you love it.

Din growls again, his hips snapping up to meet yours with force. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you as you reach behind him and grip onto his thick thighs for support as you ride him.

You can see the comments flooding in on your screen, filled with praises.

"I'm close baby, so close," you whimper, arching your back against his broad chest. The cool metal of his helmet presses against your shoulder.

"Cum for me," Din commands. The rumble from his speaker transports you right back to the nights you used to spend together, thousands of miles away from each other. Now, you’re here in the home you both share, taking his cock for your audience.

Everything sends you over the edge. You want to shout Din’s name, but you also wish to respect his anonymity... so you decide on a compromise.

“Mando!” you scream as your orgasm bursts through you. His breathing grows more rapid as your walls clench around his thick cock. Your head thuds against the metal of his helmet, your eyes squeezing tight, your lip capturing between your teeth as you you cum for Din—and your audience.

He lets out a groan that crackles through the speakers as he spills himself deep inside you. You collapse back against him, your bodies slick with sweat and chests heaving.

For a moment, you forget about the camera, the viewers, the chat still going wild as you listen to the cadence of Din’s breathing through the helmet’s speakers.

Slowly, still quivering in the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, you rise up from Din's lap. His softening cock slips out of you as you stand on wobbly legs. Turning to face the camera, you give your viewers a sultry smile.

"Look what he did to me," you purr, reaching down to spread yourself open with two fingers. Din's cum begins to drip out of your well-fucked pussy, glistening on your inner thighs. You trail a finger through the slick mess, bringing it to your lips to taste the mixture of you and Din.

The chat explodes with comments and tips, everyone going wild at the sight before them. You can’t look away from the image of Din on the monitor, sitting back in the chair, his broad chest heaving as he catches his breath. He’s naked, his cock laying heavily between his legs, glistening with a mixture of your collective orgasms.

"Mmm, he always fills me up so good," you moan appreciatively, scooping up more of the creamy fluid leaking out of you. You slip your fingers into your mouth, making a show of licking them clean and savoring the taste of Din's release.

Behind you, Din stands. You watch in the monitor as he stalks forward.

The chat window is full of flames, hearts, and messages. Encouragement for the two of you flowing in by your viewers. You smile at the camera as Din comes up behind you, pulling you close against his body and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Hope you enjoyed everybody! We’ll see you next week.” The silver of Din’s helmet glints in the light when he nods as you shut down the show.

“Holy fuck!” you scream when you see the money from tonight’s show in your account, more than you’ve ever dreamed of earning. You turn around in his hold, lifting the helmet up and giving him a kiss. “Din, the audience loves you.”

—-

The wooden bench with its chipping paint and indentations from years of use overlooking the little pond the ducks gather in is your favorite spot on this earth. Better than the clubhouse in the woods behind your childhood home that you used to call yours as a curious child, better than the sanctuary of a townhome you used to call yours with all of your belongings, better than the bedroom you now share with your boyfriend who you love with all of your heart.

The sun has long gone down, the little lantern hanging on the wooden post swings in the night breeze as the moon sits high and full in the sky. 

A warm jacket is placed around your shoulders. It smells of Din. 

“Hi,” you turn and smile at him.

He gives you a shy smile and joins you on the bench, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. 

You breathe in the familiar smell of him along with the wet dirt and the dew left on the grass. It smells of home. 

He sighs, his fingers against your shoulder tap nervously.

“You alright?” you ask.

He looks at you, deep brown eyes meeting yours and nods with a soft smile.

“I still can’t believe you’re here with me sometimes.” 

“I know, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He hums in agreement. 

“I think we were destined to be together, like it was somehow written in the stars,” he says, his voice deep and introspective as he gazes up at the twinkling stars above. “I used to dream of being in space and looking down on earth, like I never belonged down here. But now, with you, I feel like… I belong.”

You lean your head against his shoulder and look up to the dark sky painted with stars.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you smile, tracing a constellation with your finger. “These can be our stars.”

Din’s hand gently covers yours, his thick fingers lingers on your ring finger.

“I like those,” he says with a nervous breath. “They’re ours now.”

He pulls away, turning to look you in your eyes, a shy smile deepening his dimple. “Would you stay here with me forever as… my wife?”

Your eyes widen in surprise and tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you breathlessly say.

Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart races as he reaches into his jacket, pulling out a beautiful golden ring with delicate stars etched onto it.

“This is what I’ve been working on in the barn all those nights. I made it myself.”

Tears fall down your face as Din takes your left hand and slides the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly, as if it was meant to be there all along.

You stare at the golden band, captivated by how beautiful it looks on your finger. This is where you are meant to be, with him.

“I love you,” you whisper, your voice full of emotion.

“I love you too,” Din replies. “We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all.”

—-

Fifteen Years Later...

Two quiet giggles awaken you from your sleep.

"It's Christmas! Can we go downstairs?" Bo asks excitedly, bouncing on her feet, her face lit with an excited smile. "I think I heard Santa last night!"

“No you didn’t,” Greef responds, rolling his eyes. “The chimney’s on the other side of the house.”

“Greef, ” Din sternly commands as he rises out of bed. “Be nice.”

“Sorry dad,” Greef apologizes.

You smile sleepily at your children's excitement, stretching as you climb out of bed.

“Come on!” Bo yells as she runs out the door.

"Alright, alright, we're coming," you yawn, quickly pulling on your robe and slippers.

Din wraps his arm around your waist as you make your way downstairs, following the pitter-patter of little feet racing ahead of you.

It was around this time ten years ago that Din sat you down and told you about Greef and Bo, the twin foundlings in need of a family. As a former foundling himself, Din couldn't bear the thought of the twins not having a safe and nurturing home. With tears in your eyes and love in your heart, you both made the decision to become the parents of Greef and Bo. The call to Cobb was made, and what used to be your livestream studio, turned into a nursery.

That first Christmas as a family of four, Din had planted Christmas trees on your farm. Now, one of those trees is sitting proudly in the corner of your living room, covered in twinkling lights and handmade ornaments.

"Look! Santa came!" Bo squeals, pointing at the cookie crumbs.

"Can we open presents now? Please?" Greef asks, barely containing his excitement.

“Hold on, let me get the coffee going,” Din chuckles, heading to the kitchen to turn the coffee maker on.

The kids vibrate with wonderment, taking in all of the brightly wrapped presents underneath the tree.

“Okay, have at them,” Din says, settling onto the couch next to you and pulling you close.

The kids don’t hesitate, diving for the presents. Bo chooses a soft, squishy package while Greef grabs a rectangular box, tearing into the wrapping paper.

"A new stuffed animal!" Bo exclaims, hugging a plush bear to her chest. "I'm gonna name her Chewie."

"Awesome, the new flying game I wanted!" Greef grins, examining the box. “Can we play it later, Dad?”

“We can,” Din nods with a warm smile. "I'm a pretty good pilot if I do say so myself."

You spend the next hour watching the kids open gift after gift, their faces lighting up with each reveal. There are new books, art supplies, clothes, and toys scattered across the floor. Fifteen minutes has turned into fifteen years. A black box of mystery has turned into a house full of love.

—-

A/N: Thank you *SO* much for reading. I loved writing Din and his cam girl, and I hope you love the glimpse of their future life together.

[lotsofmilfs]

Shades of Cool Part 2

Pairing : Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Summary : After sharing your magic with Agatha, the bond is stronger, so you start to tease her through it.

Word Count : 6.8kish

Notes : Part 3 soon! (NSFW 😏) i’m sorry if this ended up being repetitive, i’ve edited this for days in a row and keep changing things lmfao.

Part 1

The warmth of her touch lingers as Agatha steps back, her hand still loosely holding yours. The bond between you hums steadily now, like the soft rhythm of a heartbeat. Her magic flickers through the connection—not as strong as it once was centuries ago, but it’s alive, pulsing faintly like a spark waiting to ignite.

You’re exhausted, your body feeling lighter, almost hollow, but there’s no regret in the act. If anything, there’s a strange comfort in knowing she feels more whole now, even if it came at your expense.

Agatha seems to sense it, her sharp gaze softening. “You look like you’re about to collapse,” she says, her voice still laced with that familiar sardonic edge, but there’s an undercurrent of concern that wasn’t quite there before.

“I’m fine,” you say, though your knees threaten to betray you.

“Liar,” she mutters, her free hand reaching out instinctively to steady you. Her fingers brush your arm, firm but careful, and the bond thrums faintly in response. “You’re always so reckless, always giving and never thinking about the cost. You—” She stops herself, her expression twisting into something conflicted.

“Spit it out, Agatha,” you say tiredly, though there’s no real bite in your tone.

Her lips press into a thin line. For a moment, you think she won’t say anything, but then she exhales, her hand lingering on your arm. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says softly. “You didn’t have to… give up part of yourself for me.”

You meet her gaze, your exhaustion tempered by the raw vulnerability in her voice. “You think I’d just stand by and let you suffer like that? Agatha, we’re bonded. I feel what you feel. I couldn’t ignore it even if I wanted to.”

Her jaw tightens, and she looks away. “You’ve always been like this,” she mutters. “Too selfless for your own good. It’s so fucking infuriating.”

You laugh faintly, the sound dry but genuine. “And you’ve always been too stubborn to admit when you need help. So I guess we balance each other out.”

She doesn’t respond right away, her fingers still lightly gripping your arm. But there’s a warmth in your chest, and you can feel the gratitude she’s trying so hard not to voice.

“Come on,” she says after a beat, her tone lighter now. “Let’s get out of this wretched place before you decide to martyr yourself any further.”

She moves to step away, but you catch her hand before she can let go. Her eyes widen slightly at the gesture, and you can feel her surprise ripple faintly through the bond.

“Agatha,” you say, your voice steady despite your exhaustion. “Don’t let this go to waste.”

Her expression falters, her carefully crafted walls cracking just enough for you to see the emotion beneath. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she squeezes your hand in return.

“Okay I- I’ll try.” she says quietly, her voice carrying a weight that feels like a promise.

You nod, satisfied, and let her lead you forward. The mist around you begins to thin, the glowing blue light of the witches’ road shifting to a soft, golden hue. It feels like a small victory, like the road itself is acknowledging the fragile progress you’ve made.

As you walk, Agatha’s hand brushes against yours every now and then—not quite holding, but not quite letting go either.

The quiet between you feels different—less strained, more… charged. You try to ignore it, chalking it up to the magic you just shared, but the truth lingers at the edges of your thoughts. The bond isn’t just a connection of power; it’s always been more than that.

And now that it’s whole again, it’s impossible to ignore.

“Do you feel that?” you ask suddenly, breaking the silence.

Agatha stops, her brow furrowing as she glances at you. “Feel what?”

“The bond,” you say, gesturing vaguely. “It’s… different now. More than it was before.”

Her lips press into a thin line, her gaze flickering away as if she’s considering how much to say. “Of course it’s different,” she replies, her voice carefully measured. “You gave me your magic. That kind of exchange would strengthen any connection.”

You narrow your eyes at her, sensing there’s more she’s not saying. The bond pulses faintly, carrying her unease like a ripple in a still pond.

“It’s not just the magic,” you press, stepping closer. “There’s something else. Something I didn’t feel before.”

Agatha exhales sharply, her jaw tightening. “You’re imagining things,” she mutters, though the flicker of guilt in her eyes betrays her.

“I’m not,” you insist, your voice firmer now. “Agatha, what aren’t you telling me?”

She hesitates, her fingers twitching at her sides. For a moment, you think she might deflect again, but then the bond hums with something deeper—an emotion that feels startlingly raw. It makes your eyes water slightly as it fills your chest.

“You’re not the only one who feels it,” she admits finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “The bond… Us… it’s always been more than just magic. But I buried it. I had to.”

You blink, the weight of her words settling heavily in your chest. “What do you mean?”

She looks at you then, her expression guarded but vulnerable in a way you’ve rarely seen. “When we first started to forge the bond, I felt it, those nights in the forest,” she says, her voice steadier now. “Something more than connection, more than power. But I couldn’t handle it—not then. I was too afraid of what it meant. So I ignored it. Tried to bury it deep enough that even you wouldn’t feel it.”

Her confession leaves you breathless, the bond between you flaring further as her emotions ripple through it. You remember those early days—the intensity of your connection, the way being near her felt like standing too close to a fire.

You’d thought it was just the magic, the strength of the starting bond itself. But now…

“Agatha,” you say softly, your voice tinged with disbelief. “Are you saying… you felt this back then? Even before…”

“Yes,” she says, her tone clipped but honest. “And I thought you did too. But you never said anything, so I assumed it was one-sided. That’s… Another reason why I left.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, memories flooding back with startling clarity. The trial, the first night after she left, the ache of her absence that felt more than just betrayal. It wasn’t just the severed bond that hurt—it was losing her.

“I didn’t know what I was feeling back then,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I thought it was just… the magic. I didn’t realize…”

Your words trail off as you look at her, the weight of the moment settling between you. The bond pulses again, and this time, it’s impossible to deny the warmth that spreads through you.

Agatha steps closer, her gaze searching yours. “And now?” she asks, her voice quieter, almost hesitant.

You swallow hard, the air between you charged with something fragile but undeniable. “Now… I think I Do.”

Her breath catches, the bond roaring underneath your skin, as the truth settles between you. Slowly, tentatively, she reaches out, her fingers brushing against your wrist. The touch is light, hesitant, but it sends a jolt through you that makes your heart race.

The world around you feels distant, the golden mist fading into the background as your focus narrows to her—the way her eyes soften, the faint tremble in her hand as it lingers near yours.

“Don’t run again,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “If this is what we are—what we’ve always been—don’t run from it anymore.”

Her lips part, her expression flickering between fear and something softer. Slowly, she nods, her fingers curling around your wrist with a steadiness that surprises you both.

The stillness between you is filled with the quiet hum of the bond, stronger now, resonating like a steady undercurrent. Agatha’s thumb is brushing lightly against your skin—a small, unspoken gesture that sends heat pooling in your abdomen.

She’s not running this time. That realisation alone makes your throat tighten.

Neither of you moves to break the fragile moment, but the bond speaks louder than words. You feel her unease, the raw edges of her vulnerability, but also the faint flicker of something else: hope. It’s tentative and cautious, like a flame coaxed to life after years of darkness.

“I never wanted to hurt you, you know” she says finally, her voice low, almost trembling. Like she couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Leaving… it wasn’t because I didn’t care. It was because I cared too much. After… Listen like i said, you never said anything about any extra feelings and sometimes i just felt like I would die if i didn’t-” she cuts herself off and sighs deeply.

You blink, her words settling heavily in your chest. “You thought running away would help?”

Her lips twitch into a humourless smile. “I thought it would be easier to sever the bond and save us both the trouble, I was so scared, to feel more, to be more, to have everything with you. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“You think?” you say, though there’s no heat behind it. If anything, your voice is softer now, touched with the faintest trace of affection.

Agatha huffs a quiet laugh, her fingers sliding down to tangle with yours. “You don’t have to be smug about it.”

You bite back a smile, studying her carefully. In the glow of the road, her features are softer, less guarded. Her usual sharp edges—the sardonic quips, the biting humour—are still there, but muted, stripped down to something real.

“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” you ask, the question hanging heavy in the air.

Her gaze drops to where your hands are still joined. For a long moment, she doesn’t answer. When she does, her voice is quieter, almost a whisper.

“I thought you hated me,” she admits. “And I didn’t blame you. After what I did—after what I didn’t do—I thought it was better for you if I stayed away. I killed other witches for sport for years, I figured you’d move on, find someone stronger, someone who deserved…” She trails off, shaking her head.

“Deserved what?” you press gently, stepping closer.

She looks up, her eyes searching yours. “You,” she says simply.

The word hangs between you, heavy with meaning. You feel the bond flare again, emotions rushing through it too fast to parse: guilt, longing, regret, and something warmer, deeper, that makes your heart skip a beat.

For a moment, you’re at a loss for words. You’d spent centuries convincing yourself you didn’t need her, that the ache she left behind was just a relic of the bond. But now, standing here with her, the bond humming strong and full, you realised how wrong you were.

“You idiot,” you say softly, though your voice lacks any real venom. “You’ve always deserved me. I just didn’t realise what that meant until now.”

Agatha’s breath hitches, her hand tightening around yours. Her gaze flickers to your face, searching, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you don’t pull away.

Instead, you lift your free hand and let it brush against her cheek, the touch light and hesitant. She freezes, her eyes wide, but she doesn’t pull back.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, the words soft but firm. “Not this time. And I’m not letting you go either.”

Her lips part as if to respond, but no words come. Instead, she leans into your touch, her eyes closing briefly. Through the bond, you feel the tension in her begin to melt, replaced by a quiet, cautious relief.

It’s a fragile thing, this moment, but it’s real.

When she finally opens her eyes, they’re softer than you’ve ever seen them. “You’re not making this easy,” she mutters, though there’s no real bite in her tone.

You smile faintly. “Good. You’ve made me wait long enough.”

Agatha huffs a laugh, shaking her head slightly. “Right, yeah it was all me.” Your palm cups her other cheek and she licks her lips before her gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest moment, and your breath catches. But instead of closing the distance, she presses her cheek into your left palm, her eyes closing again. It’s not quite a kiss, but the intimacy of it is enough to make your heart race.

“Come on,” she says finally, her voice quieter now. “We should keep moving. The road doesn’t wait forever.”

You nod, letting your hand fall reluctantly, though your fingers linger against hers for a moment longer than necessary.

As you walk side by side, the bond pulses steadily between you, stronger than it’s ever been. And for the first time in centuries, it feels like you’re finally moving forward—together.

Each step forward feels lighter, though the weight of the moment lingers between you. Agatha stays close, her hand brushing yours with each unintentional sway. It’s not deliberate—at least, not entirely—but the proximity is unmistakable.

You don’t speak, letting the bond fill the silence. It thrums with a steady rhythm, no longer jagged or uneven, but it carries a tension neither of you can quite shake.

When you glance at her, you find her doing the same—her sharp, calculating gaze flickering away as though you’d caught her in something private.

“Something on your mind?” you ask, your voice light, though your curiosity is anything but.

Agatha exhales sharply, her lips quirking into a faint smirk. “You, apparently.”

The admission catches you off guard, though her tone is sardonic enough to make you question how much she’s revealing. Still, the bond tells another story. The emotions simmering beneath her words—warmth, vulnerability, longing—are unfiltered and raw, impossible to ignore.

“Should I be flattered?” you tease, tilting your head to watch her reaction.

Her smirk falters, replaced by a flicker of something softer. “You always had a way of getting under my skin,” she mutters, her voice quieter now.

You slow your steps, turning to face her fully. “You’re one to talk.”

Agatha stops too, her arms crossing defensively even as her gaze softens. “You’re different than I remember,” she says, her voice almost wistful. “Or maybe… I just forgot.”

Her words settle between you like a confession, the bond humming faintly in response. Memories flash through your mind—moments of laughter, of quiet companionship, of stolen glances you never thought twice about back then.

“I don’t think you forgot,” you say softly, stepping closer. “I think you were just too scared to see it.”

Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t deny it. Instead, she looks at you with an intensity that makes your chest tighten. “And you weren’t?”

You hesitate, the truth catching in your throat. “I was,” you admit, the words feeling heavier than you expected. “But I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know what we were I thought we were just…”

“We should keep moving, this area” Agatha cuts you off gesturing around at the forest, “It’s getting cold,” she says, her voice steadier than you expected.

You nod, though you don’t miss the faint tremor in her body as she brushes past you. The bond hums softly, carrying her emotions—conflicted but warm, her resolve wavering but not breaking.

As you fall into step beside her again, the silence is less oppressive, though the tension remains.

The bond wasn’t just magic. It wasn’t just power or connection. It was something more. Something that always had the potential to be everything.

And now you’re starting to piece it together, you always knew there was a reason why you didn’t marry, but you didn’t realise why. Didn’t understand why you couldn’t get over the loss of Agatha, and now, you can’t help but test the waters.

You glance sideways at Agatha, noting how her eyes dart toward you and then quickly away, as if she doesn’t trust herself to look too long. The bond hums with her emotions, faint ripples of curiosity and unease laced with something sweeter—something she’s clearly trying very hard to ignore.

“Agatha,” you say, your tone light, playful.

She raises an eyebrow, her guarded expression slipping into something sharper. “What?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you let the bond speak for you, sending a gentle pulse through it—nothing overwhelming, just a soft nudge of warmth, like the magical equivalent of a hand brushing against hers.

Her steps falter for the briefest moment, and her sharp gaze snaps to yours.

“What was that?” she asks, her tone suspicious.

You feign innocence, your lips curling into a faint smile. “What was what?”

Agatha narrows her eyes, and through the bond, you can feel the flicker of her irritation—tinged with just a hint of something more. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Do I?” you tease, sending another soft ripple through the bond, this time carrying a spark of affection—light and fleeting, but unmistakable.

Her cheeks flush faintly, and she glares at you. “Stop that,” she says, though her voice lacks its usual edge.

“Stop what?” you ask, your smile widening.

“You’re actually impossible,” she mutters, picking up her pace as if putting distance between you will help.

You follow easily, keeping stride beside her. “I’m just trying to make this bond more... interactive,” you say, the bond pulsing again with a playful nudge.

Agatha groans, her hand rising to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I swear, if you don’t stop—”

“What?” you interrupt, your voice low, teasing.

Her steps halt abruptly, and she spins to face you, her eyes flashing with a mix of irritation and something deeper. The bond flares faintly, her emotions rippling through it—frustration, yes, but also warmth, fondness, and that ever-present flicker of longing.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” she says, her voice low and laced with warning.

You take a step closer, your smile softening. “Maybe.”

Her breath catches, and for a moment, she looks at you like she might actually give in—like she might say or do something that would change everything. But then she shakes her head, her lips quirking into a wry smile.

As you fall back into step beside her, the bond hums with a quiet warmth that feels like laughter, like the shared amusement of two people who are finally starting to understand each other.

You let it carry another ripple, this one deeper—a soft wave of warmth that lingers longer than the others. It’s not overwhelming, but it’s enough to be unmistakable, enough to make Agatha’s steps falter slightly.

Her head snaps toward you, eyes narrowed. “Seriously. What are you doing?”

You bite back a grin, your expression one of feigned innocence. “Walking,” you say simply.

“That wasn’t walking,” she snaps, her voice sharper than it needs to be. But through the bond, you feel the flicker of something else—frustration, yes, but also heat, a spark of something she’s trying desperately to ignore.

“Agatha,” you say, your voice light and teasing, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re a little flustered.”

Her glare sharpens, but the faint flush creeping up her neck betrays her. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” you ask, and this time, you let the bond carry not just warmth, but a roaring heat in her abdomen, a phantom brush of your hand against hers. A hand sliding up a thigh.

She stops walking altogether, spinning to face you with an expression caught between irritation and something far more vulnerable. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’ve spent centuries not understanding what we were,” you say honestly, taking another step closer. “And now that I’m starting to figure it out, I want to see where it leads.”

Agatha stares at you, her expression flickering between disbelief and something softer. “You can’t just—”

But she doesn’t finish, because you send another wave through the bond, this one gentler, but more deliberate. It’s a feeling of closeness, of warmth, of trust—everything you’ve always felt for her but never quite put into words.

Finally, she exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair in a rare show of frustration. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

You step closer still, until there’s barely any space between you. “Why don’t you just tell me? Please Agatha” You’re silent for a moment. The bond feels almost suffocating now, a shared pulse of magic between you, thick with what she’s been holding back.

She finally speaks, and when she does, the words feel like they’ve been ripped from the very core of her. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, to push it down… But you’re making me want you so badly, okay?” She meets your gaze, and you can feel the rawness in her words—her vulnerability laid bare, for once. “I’ve been trying so hard to pretend that this bond, that you aren’t driving me insane. But you are. And I’m so tired of fighting it.”

Your breath catches, the magic between you sparking with the sudden intensity of her admission. You step closer, your heart racing as her emotions flood through the bond—she’s frustrated, yes, but there’s something more, something far deeper: the longing you’ve always known was there.

She continues, her voice barely above a whisper, “Every time you get close, every time you… tease me, I can’t think. The bond, your magic, the way you look at me, I—” She cuts herself off, visibly exasperated. “I’m not saying it’s just magic, because it’s not. I can’t keep pretending like it is.”

You take a step closer, backing Agatha against a tree, and this time, she doesn’t move away. The space between you is a breath, a heartbeat, nothing more. You can feel the heat in her skin, the pulse of her heart beneath your fingers as they brush lightly against her arm.

“You never had to pretend,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. The bond hums in agreement, a feeling of closeness, of shared emotion, building. “Not with me.”

Her gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and the bond throbs, sending waves of heat, of longing, through both of you. She doesn’t speak, but you feel it in the way her breath hitches, in the way her hand shifts slightly, almost as if reaching for you. It’s too much, too close, and yet—there’s nowhere else either of you can go.

“Agatha…” You say her name, soft and almost pleading, as the bond pulses with magic too strong to ignore. “Please my angel… stop fighting this.”

She breathes in sharply, and before you can say another word, she closes the gap between you. Her lips crash against yours, urgent, hungry, desperate—as if the bond, the magic, everything between you is finally too much for her to fight.

The kiss is everything: the years of longing, the months of silence, the centuries of distance and heartache all colliding into one desperate, aching moment. Her magic flares around you, and you feel it in every touch, every press of her lips against yours. It’s not just a kiss—it’s everything, all at once, the bond weaving between you with threads of magic and emotion.

When she pulls back, breathless, her forehead resting against yours, she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. You both know now, in the deepest parts of your being, that this—whatever this is—is what you’ve both been craving for so long.

“I think I’ve been in love with you forever.” You lean forward and take her lower lip into your mouth, sucking on it and humming in response to her moan. You let the lip go with a pop and you look into her dark eyes. “I should’ve kissed you centuries ago.”

Agatha’s eyes are focused on your lips, unable to think of anything else, and she’s about to kiss you again when she hears the snap of a limb breaking underneath someone’s boot.

“Where the hell have you guys been! We’ve been walking hours!”

[messenger-of-babel]

Three Year's the Charm

Summary: You're nervous to make yourself known as Bruce's partner at his annual winter gala. (Bruce Wayne x reader)

Word Count: 1.4K

Notes: Please see the note attached to the Christmas Masterlist! Due to unforseen circumstances I've had to slow and put a pause entirely for some places. I'm going to try and double posts when I can. Much love and Merry Christmas!

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Christmas was supposed to be a time of peace, of getting together with family and friends. To open presents in front of a roaring fireplace, to eat baked treats with festive drinks. 

Your Christmas was shaping up to be wildly different. Sips of alcohol or eggnog made you more nervous as you watched guests pile in, filling the foyer of the manor.

This year’s tree was magnificent, covered in blue and silver and stretching to the ceiling of the ballroom. You had watched Alfred give harsh instructions to the workers setting it up, standing at the top of the stairs like a foreman till it was perfect. Bruce had told you it was his pride and joy each year, and it was better to not get involved when Alfred was tasked with decorating the tree. The year before Alfred had often for a beautiful golden look, and the year before had been a wonderful red and white combination.

This was like any other Wayne Christmas Gala, (you had attended three so far) except this time, you were going to be introduced on the arm of THE Bruce Wayne, the namesake and host of the entire thing.

While you two had been in the talking phase Bruce had an excellent handle on his public image, and any paparazzi that managed to steal a snap from you was unable to locate it when they went to work the next day. You relationship had been reduced to his hand on your thigh when you went for late night drives, or even later romps in the back of his car with tinted windows. Stolen kisses normally held behind the enormous Christmas tree once all the guests had gone were now to be on display for all to see, and more accurately, for every glare. 

You weren’t a stranger to the way that the public cast looks to every supermodel, reporter, and actress that had been on the playboys arm over the years. You had seen the snide glares and haughty stares afforded to his partners, and you know that once you walked down those steps on his arm you’d be next. 

When you feel him step behind you, warm palm on the hand of your back, you tense. “You’re worried.” He murmurs, voice low as he scans the ballroom below. “It’s not a good look on you.”

You cast your eyes back. “It’s hard to not be. I’ll be torn apart by angry women and billionaire men alike. What a Christmas.” You mutter back. 

“It won’t be so bad, baby, I promise.” He says, moving his hand in circles to try and sooth you. “But if you prefer we can-“

“No.” You sigh. You had thought about that all day and had been half tempted to ask him to call it off. But you couldn’t.

In The early years of your relationship you didn’t mind being a secret, knowing that Bruce wished he didn’t have to keep you out of the light either. Yet as they wore on and you fell for him more, you got selfish. You wanted him to yourself.

So even if it came with the stares and made the pit of dread coil in your stomach, there was still the part of you that wanted to be with him down there under those Christmas lights.

“I want this.” You say softly. “I mean, I want to be with you. Properly.” You give him a small smile. “Besides, I’ve just gotten Damian to like me. I’m not going to back down at something infinitely less scary.”

Bruce gives a chuckle to that and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You really did get him to warm up, in the end.” He teases.

“I don’t know if I’d consider him warm, but he’s definitely less cold.”

“Oh come on, he shows affection.”

“Just last Tuesday he rolled his eyes in my direction and muttered something under his breath in Arabic.”

“See? He does that to me all the time too.”

“I don’t know if that’s an affectionate thing either.” You laugh, grinning wider when he lightly pecks your shoulder. His warm hands pat down your sides and you step towards the staircase yourself.

The chatter was like a low hum as Gothamites socialised below, drinks in hand as they circled the floor like well dressed sharks. “Don’t worry,” Bruce whispers, smiling softly as if to encourage you. “I’ve got you.”

With a squeeze of his hand you moved your other to the banister, steeling yourself as you both begin to descend the stairs. As if your first step set of an alarm, heads began turning your way and narrowing in on your form. Each step down, every inch down the curved staircase made conversations hush. You could feel the stares piecerce through your outfit, discoing you from the inside out.

Were you good enough for Bruce? Had they seen you before? Were you famous? What were you this time? A swimsuit model? A CEO? From old money? New money? A stray from the side of the street? An accountant on wall street?

The questions were heavy in the air, easily crushing out the Christmas spirit that the band weakly tried to keep alive. When you hit the final step and felt the smooth marble of the ballroom floor beneath you, the feeding frenzy started. They began to circle you and Bruce, smiles shining and fake.

They offered you greetings, and handshakes and smiles,  but the beating of your heart made it hard to focus on them. Silently you looked up for Bruce, and he understood what you were asking.

“Everyone,” He called into the crowd, tone charming and sly smile on his face. At the sound of their host the guests turned like dogs, focusing in on the billionaire in front of them. “I hope that everyone is enjoying the festivities, please, help yourself to the drinks and more, God knows I can pay for it.”

Theres a scattering of laughter as he jokes with them, flashing them that billionaire grin. “I want to take the time to introduce my partner here,” he looks down at you, tugging you closer to him. “No better time than Christmas, I think. So on behalf of us Waynes here,” his hand tightens around you. “and all of my sons, we wish you a very Merry Christmas.”

Theres applause after he raises his glass in a toast, and the band starts again with full force. You flick your eyes up to Bruce, who is currently studying the chattering that has spread across the guests with a smirk.

“What did you do that for?” you hiss, tugging him closer to your face. He smirks back, that boyish glint in his eye returning.

“You wanted me to fix it, darling.” He chuckles. “I did.”

“You called me a Wayne.”

“That I did.” He grins. The band starts a slow rendition of ‘Last Christmas’ and he tugs you towards his chest, feet already moving in a lazy waltz. “It’ll keep them guessing for a while. They’ll try to figure out what we are, but they’ll behave in case you’re already my spouse.” He smiles down at you, watching you follow his waltz.

“Already?” you raise your eyebrows and he shakes his head softly, lowering his head towards yours. “What do you mean already your spouse?” you ask.

“It means,” he murmurs, spinning you till you were dancing under the light of Alfred magnificent Christmas tree. “That I may have just spoiled my New Year’s surprise.” He huffs.

You study him under the LED’s, how the light flickers off the edges of his face, highlighting the contours and shadows of his skin. You raise a hand to trace them softly and he turns his cheek into your palm. This was Bruce Wayne, the man who fought for the betterment of Gotham every night. Who looked nothing but weary standing in front of you now, about to mark the end of another year.

“Merry Christmas, Bruce.” You say softly, offering him a small smile.

“Merry Christmas.” He rumbles back, eyes lighting up again. He dips his head down to press a kiss to your lips, and you can feel the corners of his mouth tilt upwards when he does.

You loop your arms around his neck, foreheads touching. You could only wonder what tree Alfred would put in the manor next year, and if once you were officially a Wayne he’d let you help choose the colours.