#and then we start sharing food making whatever we can and pur thighs touch and your voice is pretty and we smile at each other sometimes

[hypergrafix]

If I ever get conscripted I will risk my life and betray my nation to suck and fuck with the fattest and femmest enemy conscripts.

[love-toxin]

a/n: in which tamaki needs a little help with some unexpected side effects.

warnings: pro hero! tamaki, gn! reader, established relationship, quirk kink, lactation, cumming untouched, nipple play, overstimulation, praise.  

word count: 1.8k

"Nngh.."

The sound that greeted you as you entered your apartment was not just unexpected, but concerning. You'd only just dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, and the name of your sweetheart hadn't even graced your lips for you to call out to him that you were home. Tamaki always got back before you did, either to make sure he had food ready for you or to hold you the minute you arrived, so you had grown used to the quiet shuffling of his feet as he moved from room to room until he poked out his head to see you. 

But not…whatever that was. If it was somehow a fluke and a villain had attacked you at your address, you would have no doubt in your mind that your boyfriend could send them packing with ease--but if he was unwell enough to not even hear you when you walked through the door, then something was seriously wrong and you feared the worst. At a hurried pace, you rushed down the hallway and crossed through your tiny living room to step into the bedroom, where you could only guess the noise had come from. 

And what a sight it was, when Tamaki turned to see you standing in the doorway with a flush that burned his naked, sweaty body. The noises he was making before couldn’t compare to the shriek he let out when your eyes met, and by the time he frantically scrambled to pull the covers over himself, you’d already caught sight of what you hadn’t suspected he would be up to. He had straddled one of your pillows underneath his thick runner’s thighs, and you only caught a glimpse of his cock hanging heavy between them before he dove into hiding, the tips of his ears still peeking out from the edge of the blanket. The trembling of his body nearly shook the whole bed, but it was so endearing you couldn’t stifle the heat rising to your cheeks and the smile you managed to hide behind your hand. 

So cute. Whether he meant to or not, seeing Tamaki embarrassed was like having a gift plopped into your lap on your birthday--and with a careful touch, you reached down towards the bed and tugged gently on the blanket, your voice a soft whisper as you began the process of coaxing your sweet Tamaki out of hiding.

“P-Please don’t look!”

Your boyfriend squeaked, and by the rustling of the covers it looked as though he was trying to bury himself even deeper into a hole. This certainly wasn’t new to you, though--Tamaki was awkward and shy at the best of times, and despite being intimate enough with each other to share an apartment and a bed, he still acted as though the world was going to end if you ever saw him nude. Much less…tending to his needs while you weren’t around. 

“Tama...c’mon, Tama. I’m not mad or anything, I’m just happy to see you...oh.”

With a tug of the covers to catch a cheeky glimpse of Tamaki's handiwork, the blanket swept off of his lean body like a sheet over a piece of art--and once it fell to the side in a heap and pooled around the dip of the mattress where he was perched, you had to swallow back your shock at what you found underneath. 

At first glance it seemed like he'd been injured, his chest flushed and the skin looking irritated around it. But upon closer examination your breath hitched as you realized they were swollen, his pecs having gained at least a few centimetres as if he was starting to grow breasts. Not only that, but you noticed that something was leaking in little pearls of white from his nipples, and streaking down his belly to contrast his fair skin and thick, flared cock that trembled under the weight of its own rigidity. Your pillow cushioned his balls softly as he'd clenched it between his legs in his hurry, and by the spots of dark, fresh stains that had soaked into it, you had a sense of how he'd been using it while you were out. 

"Oh, Tama...what happened?" 

Even as he spoke, and despite the shame that filled him all the way up to his ears, he still rocked and jittered slowly into your pillow, his neediness leaking out just like the precum that dribbled down his swollen shaft.

"I-I had some beef...a-and…I tried to...to use my quirk, but...I-I couldn't stop thinking…"

He nuzzled into your touch when you brushed his bangs aside, but could barely move when you leaned down to peck him on the lips, the embarrassment pulling his body taut and making him even stiffer than he already was. 

"Were you thinking about me, Tama?" 

Tamaki bit his lip and you just knew. He wouldn't be able to bear the shame if he said it out loud, but you knew about those dark little corners of his mind that very seldom came out into the light. 

"Well, we can fix this, ok? Just lay down for me, baby boy." 

With a firm tug, you managed to yank the pillow out from beneath him and earned yourself a whine as he squeezed his legs together, but he obeyed once you pressed your fingertips to his chest and pushed him down until he laid back against the sheets, already covered with the sweat that beaded down his body. 

"We're gonna milk you, Tama...that's the only way we can cool you down." 

You swore his heart stopped in that moment. Tamaki blubbered and stumbled over his words, tears wetting his cheeks as he tried to pull his arms over his chest. 

"I-I can do it myself! I can-"

"No you can't. Look at yourself, Tama--you can barely keep it together as is. Besides, it's my job to make you feel better." 

Just to prove your point, with one hand you grabbed his wrist to move his arm out of the way, and with the other you lifted it up and flicked his exposed nipple, the swollen little bud twitching and releasing a spurt of milk at once while Tamaki moaned and jerked against your hold. He could pretend like it was shameful all he liked, but the gleam in his eyes as he bit his tongue so he wouldn't cry out for more was obvious. You'd seen him do it so many times it couldn't be anything else. 

“Do you wanna feel better, baby boy?” 

He squirmed under your gaze, the pressure mounting not just in his body, but in the room as well...he knew exactly what he wanted, but admitting it was something he just couldn't do out loud. So instead he relaxed his shoulders slowly and let his arms fall to his sides, his fingers already digging into the sheets as he huffed a shaky breath and readied himself for what was coming next. 

"That's my good boy. Just relax…"

With a practiced hand from working out the knots in your beloved's shoulders after a long day, you pressed the heels of your hands down into his pecs, each one firm and swollen and leaking even more as you kneaded them gently. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth in preparation, and once he started whining again and little pearls started beading at his nipples, you lowered your face to his chest and latched on to relieve him of that terrible itch he needed scratched. With each press he arched his back off the bed, fluttering gasps flying from his lips as spurts of milk flooded your mouth--and you nearly lost your grip on him when his body reacted to your touch. What you expected to taste was nothing like what you got, his milk impossibly creamy and warm and melting on your tongue with each new stream that you sucked out of him. Below you, his stiff cock twitched and strained under its own weight, Tamaki unable to keep his hips down and stop them from rocking painfully into you--but you really didn't mind, especially not when with a quick glance you could see him trying to stave off his oncoming orgasm. Poor thing must have worked himself up so much while you were gone, but it was more than worth it to take care of him now. 

"You make such a cute cow, Tama." 

You purred as you pulled off of his nipple, your mouth still buzzing with the aftertaste as you leaned over and laved gentle kitten licks over his unattended one, just begging to be relieved by all the milk that dribbled from his peachy little bud. Not one to leave anything behind, you dipped your head down and kissed those little streaks of white away, and somehow that seemed to be his undoing as a cry ripped itself from his throat and his shoulders plunged back into the soft sheets. Doe eyes made way for glazed over numbness, your hand just barely hovering over the tip before he painted your fingers with a frantic buck of his hips, his cum like a magnet to your skin as it stuck and refused to come off easily. And he certainly didn't stop for that, his body overwhelmed to the point that he had no control and emptied himself into open air, each wave of pleasure resulting in an arc of messy, sticky fluid that splattered where it landed and soaked a few wet spots into your work clothes. 

"Making such a mess, Tama...I didn't even have to touch you.." 

You watched with a bit of wicked glee on your face as the veins that had swollen as he came closer to his end thinned out, his cock growing softer until the moment you brushed your sticky fingers down the underside that was still so sensitive. At that moment he perked back up, and with an experimental squeeze using your other hand, you could feel Tamaki's pecs filling up and swelling again with more milk. Just pinching his tender, sore nipples was enough for them to start leaking again, and even though you knew he would be aching by the time you had finished tending to him, the feel of his body trembling with need and the tears spilling down his rosy cheeks was too much for you to resist. You just wouldn't be able to help yourself.

"..Still hurts, Tama? Does my little cow need another milking?" 

You wasted no time in choking up his cock with your hand, squeezing him hard enough that a gasp caught in his throat and a few pearly strands of cum dribbled down his slit and lubed up your grip. But with a fresh set of tears as he blubbered and moaned something you couldn't quite catch, you reached up to stroke his hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Being gentle was what always drew him to you, especially when you nuzzled in close and whispered just low enough that his ears twitched, and Tamaki melted into your embrace without even a modicum of resistance. 

"Good boy. That's my good boy." 

[managedmischiefs]

BAD DAY//MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

word count: 3k

warnings: body image issues

before we get into the writing i just wanted to say that i’m not, in any way, criticizing mgg’s body in this fic. it is never my intention to make others feel bad about their bodies. i have plenty of experience w that and it feels awful. if anyone has a problem w this fic then please let me know. thank u.

i collapse onto the couch after a long day of cleaning the house, blasting music and dancing around while i have time alone. the house has been in need of a serious cleaning and when i woke up this morning with the energy to be productive, i didn't let it go to waste. the dishes were washed, all the laundry washed and folded and put away, rugs vacuumed, trash put on the curb, bathrooms scrubbed down, and mirrors cleaned of scuffs. and by dinner time, i've finished and feeling accomplished.

matthew has been away at work all day and was only able to spare me one text around lunchtime to tell me that he might be later than usual. i responded with a text that was far sweeter than it needed to be, professing my love multiple times and adding a slew of cute emojis. days that run long typically mean bad days, and bad days mean a very upset boyfriend. that never ends well.

when matthew doesn't arrive home by six, i send him a text to let him know that i'm going to order chinese food for the both of us, and that he can eat when he returns home. i get nothing in return.

i watch tv while i wait for the food to arrive and only half pay attention to whatever is on the tv. my only thoughts are of my boyfriend and how horribly his day must be going. the food arrives and i put it away for later so that neither of us have to eat alone. i take my place on the couch again and wait anxiously for the door to open.

surely enough, the front door swings open and matthew comes stomping in. i hear his backpack hit the floor and then his keys following, and then the door slams closed. he doesn't come into the living room where he know i always am when he gets home, and instead goes rushing up the stairs and presumably to the bedroom. surely enough, the door slams shut a second later.

a heavy sigh falls from my mouth. i shut the tv off and go to pick up the things he had thrown onto the ground. i give matthew a moment alone to collect his thoughts and once i've tucked away his keys and hung up his backpack, i make my way up the stairs and to our bedroom.

i knock on the door softly before entering, my heart breaking at the sight before me. matthew is sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, arms trembling and shoulders shaking. i can hear him sniffling softly, fighting back tears. he looks so helpless and so broken and in the five years that we've been together, i don't think i've ever seen him like this after a day at work.

i close the door gently behind me, and when the door clicks, i see matthew flinch slightly. "hi, sweetheart," i whisper, walking a few steps closer. "can i do something for you? can i help?" matthew hesitates with his answer, sniffling before nodding a tiny bit. "yeah? okay, what can i do?" i move to sit next to him now, a few inches away. i know he won't give me an answer when he's in this state, but sometimes, just asking helps. so i just sit and wait with him as he fights off his tears.

"you can cry, you know?" i whisper. "you can cry if you need to. don't hold it in." matthew shoulders start to shake even more, his hands sliding up and into his hair. he tugs on the strands, letting out a strangled sob for the first time. my heart absolutely breaks, and i reach forward to place a hand on his back, stroking up and down the fabric of his tee shirt. "baby, i'm here right. it's okay. you're okay."

he reaches his hand back and clutches my hand, tugging on it, but not lifting his head. i scoot closer, but as soon as our legs are touching, matthew's other hand starts pulling at my thigh, trying to get me even closer. so i move to stand in between his legs, pulling his hands out of his hair so he won't give himself a headache.

and once his hands are away from his hair, he grabs my waist and pulls me right into his lap, tucking his face into my neck. this is the time that he finally lets himself go, sobbing into my shoulder and holding my waist as tight as he possibly can.

"oh, my love," i coo, brushing my fingers through his hair and running my fingers up and down his spine, "i've got you. i've got you. just let it out. i love you so much."

he hiccups and trembles as he cries, and cries, and cries. i rock him back and forth just slightly, hoping the movement will bring him some sort of comfort and tranquility. and i'm not sure how long we just sit like that, holding each other as i whisper sweet nothings into matthew's ear. but eventually, his cries slow down and he's just shaking in my arms, clutching my sweater.

"can you look at me, baby? it's okay, i've got you," he lifts his head slowly, staring at me with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks, pretty lips pouting and nose scrunching up as he sniffles. but i give him a smile, raising my hands to wipe the tears off his cheeks and brush his hair off his forehead. "hi, my love."

matthew's lips quirk up in the slightest but they don't stay that way. "hi," he whispers, voice cracking.

"so do you wanna talk about it or go do something else?" i keep touching his face, wiping the new tears away and letting his nuzzle his cheek into my hand.

"something else, please." he says.

"okay, that's fine. are you hungry? do you want dinner? it's in the fridge, i can go heat it up."

"no, no, i'm not hungry." he shakes his head, turning his head to place a kiss on the palm of my hand. "i think i wanna go take a bath, if that's okay?"

"of course that's okay. you do whatever you want. do you want me to come or do you wanna be alone?" matthew just shrugs in response. "okay, well, why don't you go alone and i'll come by in a little while?"

"yeah, okay," matthew nods and slowly ushers me off his lap, dragging himself into the connected bathroom. he closes the door behind him and i hear the water running a few seconds later.

i can honestly say that i've never seen him so upset, at least not in recent times. he's had his fair share of breakdowns over the years but this feels different. he's been upset over a bad day at work or not getting a role, but i can't recall a time when he cried that much.

i go downstairs and, regardless of what matthew said, heat up the food i ordered. i know that he doesn't have time to eat on busy days and usually tears through the fridge and pantry when he gets home. he didn't do that today so i can only imagine how hungry he is.

i leave the food in the microwave so it will stay hot and then head back upstairs. i knock gently on the bathroom door, waiting for a response that i never get. "matthew?" i crack the door open just the tiniest bit but don't poke my head in. "is it okay if i come in for a few minutes?"

i hear the water sloshing around before he hums. "mhm."

i enter the hot bathroom and close the door behind me. matthew's legs are pulled up to his chest, forehead resting on his knees and arms wrapped protectively around himself. i sit down beside the tub and reach over to run my fingers through his damp hair.

"sweet boy," i coo softly, "i know you said you don't wanna talk about what's making you upset, but i think it'll help. i don't wanna force you, but i wanna help you feel better." he leans into my touch when i trail my fingers down his cheek, almost purring like a cat.

"m'dizzy," matthew murmurs so quietly i barely even hear him.

i furrow my eyebrows at him, cocking my head to the side. "you're dizzy? from the heat in here?" i jump up and open the bathroom door so some of the heat can travel out. "did you drink enough water? have you eaten enough today?"

matthew shakes his head no, sniffling yet again. "no."

"no," i repeat, defeated. "well, i heated up the chinese i ordered and i left it downstairs. so maybe you can jump out of the bath and come eat and you'll feel better? sound good?"

i stand and hold matthew's towel out for him as he slowly climbs out of the bathtub. i watch him carefully, making sure his dizziness doesn't overcome him. not that i could do anything like catch him if he fainted. he’s too tall and i’m too short. i pull the plug on the drain and usher matthew back into the bedroom.

i watch in careful silence as he pulls on pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt, scrunching up his nose in the most adorable way. and once he's dressed, he turns to me with his shoulders hunched forward, almost like he's waiting for me to tell him what to do and where to go. i've been doing it since he walked in the door so i suppose he's too far gone that he needs me to continue.

i give him a small smile and grab onto his hand, leading him down to the kitchen. i point to a barstool in a silence instruction to take a seat, and retrieve our food from the microwave.

"so," i state as i sit down and dig into my fried rice, "i finished the next chapter of my book today! it's not the best writing i've done so i'm gonna do extensive editing on it, but at least it's done. i've been stuck on this chapter for weeks and i'm just relieved that i can move on."

"i'm sure what you've already written is amazing," he half heartedly, stabbing a piece of chicken before pushing it off his fork again.

i keep talking about my writing process, and observe him as he plays with his food and doesn't eat anything at all. i've finished my food in ten minutes and matthew hasn't eaten anything. he responds every now and then with short sentences or one word answers, and doesn't lift his head much.

i throw out my containers and fill up a glass with water and ice, placing it beside matthew's hand. i sit on the barstool beside him, facing him instead of forward. "you haven't eaten anything, sweet boy. you need to eat. did you eat anything today?" matthew ducks his head even further down and shakes his head no. i resist my urge to sigh. "okay, can you tell me why? i made breakfast for both of us and i thought you ate."

"no," he shakes his head again. "i don't- i just don't wanna eat."

he's never acted like this before and it's truly heartbreaking. he doesn't seem like the man i feel in love with and he's even a completely different man from the different man he is when he's upset. this is a new version of my boyfriend that i hope makes a one time appearance.

matthew takes a long breath and pushes around his rice before starting to speak. "last week, on set, i had a fitting for outfits for the episode we filmed today. and the kevlar vest that i've been using for years didn't fit. it was too small. so i," he hesitates, and then tilts his head a little towards me. i instantly bring my hair up to his wet hair and start scratching his scalp, "i just, well, this past week i just decided to eat less and hope that i could fit into the vest today. but it didn't work. it was still too small and it looked absolutely horrible. i looked horrible. ugly."

and yet again, my heart breaks for him. i've never really heard of matthew having issues with his body, except for the off comment that he didn't look good in an outfit or that it didn't flatter him. nothing to this extent. but i've had my fair share of body image issues over the years and matthew has always been quick to remind me that i'm stunning, regardless of whether i'm wearing an extra small or a large.

"i'm sorry you feel this way, love," i drag my hand back to the nape of his neck and play with the short hair there. "and i know exactly how it feels to not fit into clothes that you used to fit into. but you've helped me realize that we don't keep the same body every year. our bodies change as we get older. remember that red dress you really liked on me? it doesn't fit me anymore because i'm not as skinny as i was when we met. but i got a new one that suits me better. it's okay for your body to change and there's nothing wrong with it. you're beautiful no matter what, or handsome, if you'd prefer that."

matthew nods, wiping his cheeks when he finally lifts his head. "i just looked so bad today."

"i'm sure you didn't. i always tell you that i look horrible in outfits you think i look good in. everyone is always really hard on themselves and that's natural."

he drops his head again and let's go of his fork, letting out a heavy sigh and resting his hands in his lap. but i stand, moving his hand away and sitting down on his lap, placing my hands right on his ribs. "when you filmed season twelve, you started to work out more. remember?"

matthew nods. "yeah, of course. what does that have to do with anything?"

"you thought that you would put on weight in muscle, and that's exactly what happened. your shoulders got broader, your thighs got thicker. and you know what?" i lean forward until our noses are touching. i manage to get a tiny smile out of him when i give him an eskimo kiss, our noses rubbing together. "i absolutely loved your body before and after you started working out. you know how much i love your thighs. they're sexy, baby. i know that me telling you things like this doesn't really help but i love your body, no matter what it looks like. what your body looks like doesn't define you."

"really?" he gives me the most adorable puppy eyes. "you like my, you know, my body?"

"i love your body, matthew," i move my hands down from his ribs to his stomach, slipping them under his sweatshirt and placing them on his bare skin. "i love everything about you." matthew lets his head fall forward and presses his forehead into my shoulder as i let my hand continue to roam his skin. "i'm not gonna force you to eat if you really don't want to, but i don't want you to starve yourself either. so i'm gonna go, okay? i'm gonna go sit in bed and you can either eat or not and not feel pressured by me staring at you, and you can join me when you're ready."

i place a kiss on matthew's nose before retracting my hands and heading back to our bedroom. part of me wants to hold him down and force him to eat all of his food and another part of me knows that letting him make his own decisions is the right choice. forcing him to eat when he feels badly about his body is the worst thing i could do. it could make him spin even further out of control and that is obviously the last thing i want.

so i curl up under the duvet on my side of the bed and flip the television on, skimming through the channels until i find some random romcom that i watched with matthew years ago. i leave that on and start scrolling through my social media.

just a few minutes later, matthew comes wandering into the room and closes the door behind him. when he walks towards the bed, i notice he's holding his pint of fried rice in his hand, and while i would normally not support eating in bed out of fear of getting the sheets dirty, i make an exception for this.

he gives me a weak smile as he climbs in beside me, instantly tangling his legs with me. i roll over and rest my head on his chest, bringing my arm around his stomach, resting my hand in his sweatshirt pocket. i try my hardest to ignore it as matthew scoops rice into his mouth slowly. i can tell it's a little bit of a chore for him to be eating, but nonetheless, i'm proud of him for doing it, even if he only eats a few pieces of rice.

"we watched this movie a long time ago. one of our first dates, right?" matthew mumbles.

"mhm," i nod against his chest, "we watched this in your house in the living room and ate pizza and complained about the acting."

"i love you," matthew randomly confesses, leaning down to press his lips to my forehead. "thank you. i don't know what i'd do without you."

"well, you'll never have to find out because you're stuck with me," i quip, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "and i love you too. a whole lot. and i love your tummy too. i think i might love your tum more than i love you. no offense."

[imagine-loki]

Stitching The Wounds, Chapter 5

TITLE: Stitching The Wounds CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 5 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki and Kilgrave are Alphas and feel a spark with the same omega. RATING: M

Leona felt weird when she went to the café with Loki and Kilgrave.

She felt oddly calm and secure with them at either side of her on the way there. Now and then one of their hands would gently but firmly guide her at her lower back, or take hold of her elbow when dodging other people on the pavement.

When they got to the café, they picked a nice little table next to the window in the corner. Loki sat next to her and Kilgrave sat opposite. It was a quiet place, but really nice and quirky. It had good music playing and a big selection of food and drinks on the menu.

‘Have whatever you like, pet.’ Kilgrave said when Leona picked up the menu.

She wasn’t used to eating a lot, so she knew she should take it easy. Not wanting to overload herself with food so quickly. So she ordered a toastie and coffee.

‘Is that all you’re having?’ Kilgrave asked. ‘There are lots of nice cakes too.’

‘Are you both feeders or something?’ Leona asked with a slight smirk, making them chuckle.

‘I’d enjoy it while you can, Kilgrave is a bit of a health freak when it comes to food usually.’ Loki grinned. ‘But you need to get your strength up for now.’

‘My strength is fine.’ Leona said as the waiter brought their drinks over.

‘Trust me, doll. You’re going to need plenty of strength and sustenance with us.’ Kilgrave winked at her.

Leona didn’t respond, she just concentrated on drinking her coffee. Enjoying the warmth as it flowed down her body. It had been a while since she had a decent cup of coffee.

‘Were you ever claimed, properly, with any previous Alphas?’ Loki asked.

‘I’ve only had two attempted relationships with an Alpha over the years. I know Mrs Stanton will have likely made out there was hundreds of attempts at getting me to fit with someone.’ Leona sighed. ‘I’ve had quite a lot of first dates, though. That all ended badly, mainly because of me being broken.’ Loki and Kilgrave both stiffened when she said that.

Loki leaned over and put his hand firmly on her thigh, squeezing. Making her heart race a little and she was slightly surprised.

‘Do not say that, doll. What did we tell you about the rules? Do not say that again, or I will bend you right over my knee, right here, right now, and spank you.’ He growled into her ear, making her supress a shiver.

She ignored the warning and continued with what she was saying. Unsure whether he would be serious about his threat. Also unsure about whether she wanted that to happen or not… Part of her did, but she knew that would be a bad idea so she tried to quickly move on before her sassy mouth got her into trouble in public.  

‘So, that was aside from two Alphas that I got passed first date with. But those two just thought they’d be able to tame me. The first one wasn’t very… dominant. I guess is the right word. Nothing much ended up happening, he got bored of me very quickly. Not even a week. He didn’t claim me, not in any of the sense of it.

The second one, the one who got violent with me… Was unfortunately my first time and he did claim me, but he didn’t mark me. It was only the once though. And uhm, when he got violent with me, I walked out on him. We were only together for about three weeks.’

Loki and Kilgrave were so pleased she was opening up to them. It was actually more than they had expected this early in the game. Leona was surprised, too. But there was just something about them that made her want them to know. That she knew deep down she could trust them… Or so she certainly hoped, now she was in this deep already.

Loki’s grip on her thigh had loosened and he was lightly rubbing his thumb across her. Even through her jeans she could feel her skin was on fire under his touch.

The waiter came with their food, so they changed the subject to something else. Saving the more private conversations for back home.

‘What do you want to do with your life? Do you want to have a career, or?’ Kilgrave asked while they ate.

Omegas were split nowadays. Half wanted to get careers and work, like the Alphas. But the other half was still in the frame of mind where they just wanted to stay at home and be there for their Alphas needs. It was usually up to the omega now, what they wanted to do.

Leona shrugged. ‘I dunno. I’d given up hope on having an Alpha, or a proper life. So I haven’t given it much thought.’

‘Well, we are of the opinion it’s down to the omega what she wants to do in life. We are open to whatever you decide you want to do. And will support you, of course.’ Loki said softly.

She looked at him with her eyes wide for a second.

‘Really?’

‘Of course.’ Loki nodded.

Leona laughed and shook her head. ‘You’re acting like you’re definitely going to keep me.’

Kilgrave and Loki both frowned.

‘We are keeping you, Leona.’ Kilgrave said sternly. ‘There was a spark, sparks never lie. And don’t you dare say anything to talk yourself down.’ He said knowingly.

She looked down at her food and concentrated on that again.

Loki and Kilgrave realised that even with her rather tough exterior, she had such a vulnerable side to her. It was clear she was worried she was going to be abandoned again, chucked out.

Once they finished, Loki ordered them all a slice of cake.

‘You’re going to get me fat!’ She laughed a little when it arrived, it was making her mouth water.

‘You need a bit more meat on you anyway, doll. Don’t fret.’ Loki chuckled. Making her smile.

They were pleased to see she did relax more and more. When they left the café, they went home but took the long way through the park. Chatting away in a relaxed manner, just finding out more about her. They shared their hobbies, likes and dislikes.

‘I guess having an Alpha that’s a doctor might come in handy.’ She said after Kilgrave had told her a bit about his work.

Kilgrave chuckled. ‘Hopefully you won’t need my skills, but yes. I guess it isn’t a bad thing.’

The more time she spent with them, the more she was letting herself accept the fact they wanted to be her Alphas. Though there would always be a part of her that was worried, unsure… She hoped in time it would disappear.

When they got back to Loki’s, Leona went for a nap as she was tired mentally. The Alphas understood, so told her they’d wake her when it was dinner time.

‘I think she will settle quickly.’ Loki said to Kilgrave as they grabbed a beer from the kitchen.

‘I think so too.’ Kilgrave nodded. ‘Her personality is slowly starting to show. It’s no wonder she has trust issues though.’

‘I still can’t believe her parents chucked her out.’ Loki frowned and sighed. ‘It’s not her fault she was in an accident.’

‘I know… What are we going to do about us two?’ Kilgrave asked as they sat down in the living room.

‘Yes. That crossed my mind too, it’s a weird situation. I guess you don’t need to rush to find your own place. If she is our omega, she will want to live with both of us. I think going back and fore to two different houses wouldn’t be too good for her.’

‘So, you wouldn’t mind me staying?’ Kilgrave smirked.

Loki shrugged. ‘You’re alright company.’ He teased, chuckling. ‘Besides, having half the rent paid won’t be so bad for me.’

Kilgrave laughed. ‘True. Means we can spend more on our darling new omega.’ Kilgrave grinned.

‘Exactly.’ Loki grinned back at him and they raised their beer bottles to one another.

-

Loki wandered upstairs to wake Leona from her nap, but as he opened the door and stepped inside, he was hit with the delicious smell of her arousal.

His eyes widened in delight at the sight before him too. She was on top of her covers and was only wearing a t-shirt. Her hand was delved down between her thighs, two fingers buried inside of her cunt.

‘WHAT THE HELL!’ Leona screeched at Loki walking into her room.

She quickly removed her hand from between her thighs and scrambled to hide herself under the blanket, face bright red and eyes blazing in a mixture of arousal and anger at being interrupted.

Loki smirked and folded his arms over his chest. ‘That was quite the sight, doll.’ He purred, licking his lips.

She ignored the spark of arousal that hit her from seeing him. And ignored the fact she was so close to cumming before she had been interrupted.

‘Do you not know how to KNOCK?’ She snarled at him.

‘What’s going on?’ Kilgrave asked as he appeared, having heard the commotion. His eyes darkened slightly when he smelt her arousal in the air as soon as he walked into the room. He barely suppressed a groan of his own.

‘I was masturbating! So what? It’s not a crime!’ Leona huffed.

Loki and Kilgrave walked over to her, one at either side of the bed and they sat down on the edges.

‘Nothing wrong with pleasuring yourself at all.’ Loki hummed, sliding his hand under the blanket to take hold of her wrist, pulling it out from underneath the blanket. He lifted her hand up towards him, first he sniffed at her two fingers that were still wet. Her eyes widened and she tried to ignore the feeling of excitement in her stomach.

Loki slipped his tongue out and he licked her fingers for a moment, moaning at her taste. ‘I’m just sorry I didn’t walk in while you were cumming. Now, I’m sure that is a sight to behold.’

‘Loki.’ Kilgrave tsked. ‘You’ve left our poor omega hanging?’

Loki glanced over at Kilgrave, letting Leona take her hand back as he smirked. ‘I didn’t tell her to stop.’ He chuckled.

Leona rolled her eyes.

‘Well, the gentlemanly thing to do would be to finish the job for her.’ Kilgrave said and winked at Leona.

‘It certainly would be.’ Loki growled.

Her eyes widened and her stomach leapt in excitement. Of course, while masturbating she had been thinking about the two Alphas… Not that she would ever admit it to them, obviously.

‘Why don’t you get comfortable on Kilgrave’s lap, darling. Let me finish what you started.’ Loki purred, pulling the blanket back, revealing her. She closed her thighs together tightly at first, slightly wary, but also wanting it to happen too.

Kilgrave got on the bed and crossed his legs over, he took hold of Leona and with ease lifted her onto his lap, so her bum was just off his legs and her upper back was against his chest. She squeaked at how easily he had moved her.

Loki knelt on the bed and gently took hold of her ankles, slowly spreading her legs open. He winked at her and stroked up and down her legs as he moved between them.

She put her hands down to cover herself, but Loki tsked softly as Kilgrave reached down and took hold of her wrists, bringing them up around the back of his neck.

‘Keep your hands behind my neck.’ Kilgrave said softly as he slid his hands under her top and stroked across her sides.

Leona squirmed in excitement, her breathing already deeper than it was before. Loki got comfortable and started kissing along her inner thigh, slowly working his way higher and higher. She closed her eyes and gasped slightly when she felt his warm breath against her. But he teased her and moved across to her other thigh, kissing and sucking there for a while.

Kilgrave’s hands started roaming, he lightly tickled across her abdomen, then worked his hands higher under her top.

She was completely enveloped in them both, their scents and having their hands on her. It was quite overwhelming.

Loki started gently squeezing her thighs when he finally started paying attention to where she wanted him to be the most. He softly licked and suckled on her folds, she was already so wet from her own previous ministrations.

Removing one hand from her thigh, he spread her wide open, she was glistening wet and smelled absolutely delicious. He took a long lick right up her, making her tremble and gasp. He then licked up and down either side of her clit. Driving her insane already.

She tilted her head back against Kilgrave’s chest, his hands had wandered even further up and he was carefully squeezing her breasts, now and then he rubbed her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

But when she let go of his neck and started to reach down to grab Loki’s hair, Kilgrave pinched her nipples quite hard. Making her yelp.

‘Ow! Asshole!’ She huffed at him.

‘Behave.’ Loki snarled, turning his head to the side to bite her inner thigh, making her yelp once more.

She was about to curse at him too, but he glared up at her, raising an eyebrow. She knew what they wanted, so she put her hands up behind Kilgrave’s neck again, desperate to cum. Only then did they continue the sweet pleasure.

Loki lapped on her clit with the flat of his tongue, then he added two fingers to the mix. When he inserted them, he took a few minutes to explore, twisting and curling until he found the exact spot that made her whimper and buck against him. But Kilgrave was holding her steady in place on his lap, still manipulating her nipples.

As Loki kept stroking over that sweet spot deep within her, he used the tip of his tongue to stroke her clit in a more precise way. Alternating between fast and slow licks, weirdly in time with what Kilgrave’s fingers were doing on her nipples.

‘Ohhh god! Please!’ She cried out, desperate now.

Loki’s ears perked up at hearing her begging. He smirked against her and continued with what he was doing, but this time he kept the same rhythm and picked up the pace a little with thrusting his fingers into her. He couldn’t get enough of her, of what she had to offer him. She was far too delicious.

With Kilgrave constantly tweaking and rubbing her nipples, it was no wonder she came hard. Squirting all over Loki’s mouth and chin, making such a mess. Her moans and whimpers were like music to the Alphas ears.

When Loki sat up, he reached out and cupped her cheek. She was completely blissed out, eyes struggling to remain open. Her body was so sensitive, Kilgrave was still gently fondling her breasts and she was shuddering in pleasure now and then.

‘Give me your hand, doll.’ Loki reached up, waiting to take her hand.

She only just registered what he said, she was feeling far too good to argue, so took her hands off Kilgrave’s neck and put one into Loki’s hand. She was a bit confused when he brought her hand down to her cunt.

‘Scoop some of your delightful wetness up, doll. Let Kilgrave have a taste.’ He hummed, smiling when she did as she was told.

She used two fingers and dipped them just inside, they were so wet as she lifted them up to Kilgrave’s mouth. He took her fingers into her mouth and lavished them with his tongue, moaning around them as he closed his eyes, revelling in her taste.

‘Mmm, wonderful.’ He purred.

Loki smiled at Leona and leaned into her, kissing her forehead. Making her feel weird and fluttery inside.

‘Am I forgiven now for bursting in on you?’ He smirked, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

‘Mmm… I suppose.’ She shrugged a little.

Leona felt the vibrations from Kilgrave’s chest against her back as he chuckled. He wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. Then he leaned down to speak right into her ear, making her shiver a little.

‘While we seemed to have skipped straight to dessert, I think we should go have dinner now.’

[remember-to-be-gentle]

I’ve been working on this piece for over a MONTH and it still needs work, but I’m tired of keeping this to myself, so here it is. 

Subject: BNHA, Tamaki Amajiki + Dabi

Title: Hungry Hero, Vicious Villain (NSFW, pro hero!fem reader)

TW: Non Con, Penis/Balls expansion, bisexual?, Coercion, Implied Kidnapping, I genuinely don’t know what else I should tag this

This couldn't be happening. It was supposed to be an easy raid on a potential hideout for the League of Villains. You and your finance, Tamaki, had gone in together and things had quickly gone South when you were captured. Arms pinned above your head and a knife to your throat, you heard Dabi say, "Wait, are you actually getting hard right now?" 

Tamaki's face burned red, his ears slouching and shoulders scrunching. "I'm sorry." You stared in disbelief at the bulge in his costume. 

The two of you had refrained from sex until the wedding and conversation about kinks hadn't come up naturally, but could sweet and shy Tamaki really be into something like this? 

Dabi laughed in disbelief. "Hey, Suneater, you're a virgin, aren't you." It wasn't a question. Tamaki nodded. The laughter that came from Dabi's throat was dark, malicious. "A hero who hasn't even gotten his dick wet. Well, since your raid of our hideout failed, why don't I do you a favor?" 

A dark feeling settled in your stomach. 

He leaned into your ear, "If you so much as twitch I'll burn you to a crisp." His hands made their way down your costume, yanking open the buttons and zippers, exposing your breasts. Tamaki couldn't take his eyes off them. One of Dabi's burning hands wrapped around your breast, carefully groping and massaging the skin until your nipple hardened. Tamaki looked like he was going to drool. "You haven't so much as seen these yet, have you? Your girl has nice tits, you're going to like playing with these." 

Tamaki didn't respond, his breathing heavy and hands twitching at his sides. The bulge was getting bigger. 

Dabi continued to pull your costume off of you, he could kill you at any moment and Tamaki was completely entranced by what he was doing to you. Was he so sex-starved that watching a villain rape you could be satisfying? 

Dabi ripped off the bottom of your costume, leaving you completely nude, yanking your legs up and apart. "You see her pussy? It's real pink, isn’t it?”

Tamaki’s eyes went wide, focusing on your exposed hole. You wanted to squirm, escape Dabi’s hands grasp, and reclaim some sense of dignity, but if you did, you’d die. 

“If you want to enjoy it to the fullest, we need to make it drool.” Dabi’s voice settled into a growl. Behind you, you could feel his dick getting hard, excited but not nearly as much as Tamaki was. “Do you want a little taste of your wife-to-be?" 

Tamaki nodded. 

"Why don't you give it a taste then, eating hero." 

"I shouldn't..." He was giving you a pathetic look, the one where he pouted when baristas forgot sugar in his coffee and he didn't have the confidence to ask for a remake. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed. He wanted to. 

"If you don't, I'll burn her breasts off." 

That spurred him forward. Tamaki gave you an apologetic look, but you could see him licking his lips, eager for a taste. This needed to end. "Stop this," your voice was far smaller than you’d like, "please, there's no need for any of this." 

Dabi hushed you. "Watch him," he hissed. “If you look away for even a moment, I’ll burn you.”  

Tamaki looked overwhelmed between your legs, staring at your clit and slit as if it were a food he wasn't sure how to eat.

"Instruct him," Dabi murmured in your ear. “You know what happens if you don’t.” 

Damn it. How had a simple raid ended up like this? "Suneater," you said, careful to use his codename, "use your tongue. There's a pink nub toward the top, just start with that." You’d had a few minor sexual experiences before, fingers and humping from old partners along with your own dildo, but nothing this direct. You were almost as much in the dark as Tamaki. 

“Pink... nub...” His face vanished between your thighs and then you felt it: hot tongue on your clit. It took everything not to cry out, sharp tingling tightening your muscles. Dabi laughed when he felt you tense, but didn’t say anything. “That one?” Tamaki's voice shook, whether with excitement, nervousness, or a combination of the two, you couldn't tell. 

Damn it, why was he asking? “Y-Yes.” Where you’d been able to hold back your reactions, the facade was fading fast now that he was actually touching you. Your face burned and fingers clenched into fists uselessly at your sides.

That tingling came again, longer in its duration, as Tamaki licked you slowly. He lapped at you experimentally, gauging your reaction to his tongue each time. Sometimes a little harder. Sometimes just barely gliding over your sensitive bud, testing how each stroke of his tongue made you squirm. And then he bit down you. You couldn’t hold your voice back anymore, nearly screaming at the sensation of his teeth rolling across your sensitive clit. “Tamaki! Stop! I—.” 

Dabi hissed at you into silence. “Suneater, why don’t you play with these a little?” He bucked at you from behind, sending your entrance into Tamaki’s face and making your breasts bounce. “You can use your mouth on these, too.”

Begrudgingly, Tamaki dismounted his face from your entrance. He reached for your breasts, hesitancy making his fingers curl. 

“Flick her nipple. Do it before I get bored.”

Tamaki obeyed. His finger shot out, hitting your nipple with enough force to make the entire breast jiggle. He shuddered. Those hesitant hands grabbed your breasts, roughly squeezing and groping them. He brought himself closer, the huffs of his panting breath loud and needy. 

Dabi pushed you forward, making your crotch connect with Tamaki’s. He cried out, eyes wide. Something hot and wet spread between you two. You realized with a terrible soberness that Tamaki had just creamed his costume. He groaned, rubbing his hyper-sensitive cock against you, using your breasts to keep him grounded. “I...” He swallowed. “I want to be inside.” 

Inside? You looked down at his crotch where he was still heavily erect under the tent in his pants. 

“Then take it out, hero, show your precious fiancee your filthy hero cock.” 

“It's not... filthy...” he muttered, unzipping his crotch so his erection could spring free. 

Dabi whistled. You stared. It was enormous, slick with the load he’d exploded in his pants. You’d seen Tamaki naked before, it was a hazard of sharing a changing room at your agency and spending so much time together. You could say with certainty that you’d never seen Tamaki that big. His balls hadn’t been that big, either. They looked swollen with unused cum. 

“So it's true,” Dabi laughed, ���you do have to have huge balls to be a hero.” He got on his knees, spreading you out on the floor. “Go ahead. Use her pussy until it becomes your cumdump. She deserves it for keeping you waiting, doesn’t she? And even if you don’t want to, I’d burn her to nothing if you don’t.” 

“It's too big!” You shouted. Dabi pushed you down into the ground, his grip bruising. 

Tamaki looked away, pulling his hood over his face. “I’m sorry... It's a side effect of my quirk. Anything I don’t use has to go somewhere...”

Dabi licked his lips. “I knew playing with you two was a good idea. I wonder how big we can get that dick, probably big enough to tear you apart. Fuck, now I’m wishing we’d gotten here sooner. Whatever, stick it in, Suneater.” 

“But you said... it should be drooling...” 

“Close enough. We’ll get it there next time.” Next time? Before could you think more on what he meant, Dabi pushed his fingers inside you. They spread you wide and you squealed, feeling his fingers play with the slick that had built up. A slimy smile spread across his face. “This should be fine.” Slowly, Dabi set you on the ground, keeping your legs spread open, “Go on, hero, put it inside.” 

Tamaki didn’t wait for Dabi to finish speaking, shoving his cock inside you. You cried out, feeling his swollen dick spread you out completely, nearly creating a bulge in your stomach. You grabbed his costume, unable to feel anything except his length inside you, twitching with anticipation, filling you to the brim. Tamaki moaned, clenching his teeth at your tightness. 

“You’ve been waiting for that, haven’t you?” Dabi purred, “I bet you fantasized about it every time she so much as bent over. Every time you were home alone with her sleeping form and you knew it would have been so easy to use that plush little mouth to get you off.” 

Tamaki shuddered, making a pitiful little noise in the back of his throat. He had. 

“Tamaki—.”

“Keep that pretty mouth of yours shut. The only thing I want to hear out of you is how much you love your fiance’s cock.” Dabi growled. He grabbed Tamaki’s hood, forcing him down, “Now fuck her like you’ve always wanted. Like the wild fucking beast you are.”

And then he did. Tamaki pulled back and slammed back in, groaning as he did. It felt like lightning up your body, pooling in your fingers and toes with each twitch of his cock. Behind you, Dabi praised him, dribbling words of encouragement as if it were honey. Each word seemed to make Tamaki shiver and pump inside you more erratically. His pace left no room for long strokes, he’d found his spot and couldn’t stop rubbing it against the top of your pussy until ropes of his cum were coating your insides.

 But he didn't stop. He kept fucking you through his orgasm, slamming against your cervix and then you felt it. By accident, Tamaki's enormous cock had found your spot. The noise that erupted from your throat was impossible to contain, a strangled, breathless cry. He stopped, staring at you as you twitched around him. "What was that?" 

"You found it," Dabi answered, "that little spot will make her feel good, too. You can make her cum, too, if you hit it." 

"I can make her cum?" The excitement in Tamaki's voice sent a shiver of fear down your spine. He was going to do it, exploit your g-spot until the only thing you could think about was your next orgasm. 

"Can you find it again, Suneater?" Dabi pushed. 

Tamaki plunged back in, watching your face for the tell-tale sign that he'd found your spot. That massive cock of his slammed right into it, making your muscles tighten and voice cry out. An unhinged smile spread across his face and he did it again. "Does it feel good?" 

“Answer him.” Dabi hissed.

You nodded reluctantly, struggling to stop yourself from moaning aloud. 

For a second, Tamaki stopped pumping, his cheeks turning bright red, eyes looking away. He was building up his nerve. “Can you say it?” Tamaki pushed. “Say that you like it when I’m... inside...” 

“I...” Your voice on the edge of moaning. “I—I like it...” It was getting harder to control, the more he slammed inside of you and rubbed at your spot, the more your voice threatened to leak into moans. You couldn’t show that you really like it in front of Dabi, he could use that as leverage against you: blackmail. On the other hand, Tamaki seemed to have lost himself completely in pleasure. He looked like he was drooling on top of you, hot panting breaths and needy high groans. 

Dabi cursed. “Shit, I don’t have time to be waiting around, but...” You looked up at him, your vision blurry and unfocused. What was he planning now? “Hey, hero,” he hissed at Tamaki. “We’re taking this show on the road. Take your dick out, you’ll finish up later.” 

What? 

“What?” Tamaki blinked slowly, his wild thrusts coming to a slow stop.

Dabi reached out a scarred hand, brushing his thumb across Tamaki’s cheek, “You two are coming with me.” 

[snarwor]

moon and old stars - chapter 7

WE BACK Y’ALL. Started the spring semester and you know. Life. Whatever. Enjoy some feels and fucks. <3

moon and old stars masterlist

------------------------------------------

They get a hit on Bo Katan’s location the next morning, their last resort for help, but a choice they had to make. Din paced the flat nervously, his helmet off while Cara and Fennec got the ship fueled up and resupplied. They were so close. So close to getting Grogu back, to getting everything as it should be again. Why was he so jittery?

“Drink?” Fett asked from the kitchen, holding a bottle of Corellian whiskey dangling between his fingers like an unruly mouse.

“Anything but whiskey. Gives me a headache,” Din muttered.

“Dunno if you’ll like the alternative. It’s spicewine.”

“Spicewine is fine.” Din chewed at the corner of his thumb, a nervous habit that came back when the helmet was off for long enough. Fett uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses, bringing them over to Din. Muscle memory had him swallowing down the entire glass at once. He never had the luxury of enjoying his food or drink in other’s company.

“Easy, there,” Fett chuckled. “It’ll get to your head faster that way.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Din asked miserably. “To make you forget why you’re drinking?”

“No, but I’ve known people that see it that way. It’s a miserable life, devoting yourself to forgetting.” He looked out at the setting sun, his expression carefully neutral in a way that told Din he’d let on too much at once. Out of respect, he didn’t press him on the topic.

“You know, this could be our last night,” Din said softly. It was a bit vague by words alone, but the way his body angled towards Fett’s, armorless in more ways than one, gave it another meaning. “We should spend it—”

“Din,” Boba said, turning his head to him. There was a weariness in his gaze that said...something. Din swallowed, losing his sure footing, realizing for the first time that perhaps, he didn’t know Boba as well as he thought he did.

“Yeah?” Din asked, his body swaying into Boba’s orbit.

There was a long moment where they just looked in one another’s eyes, troubled for reasons that would make their teeth ache to speak aloud. There was so much pent-up...everything that couldn’t be said, written on their expressions, in their eyes. “You need a haircut,” Boba said, and it deflated the tension in the room a little. On instinct and out of pure insecurity, Din’s hand flew up to the wild mess atop his head.

It hadn’t been this long in awhile. The curl pattern he remembered having as a child was a thing lost to his past. So many years had been spent with clippers or a wickedly sharp blade, hacking at the growth until he wasn’t sweating buckets under the helmet. But now, it was reaching past his ears in certain spots, and tickling the back of his neck, falling into his eyes in a frustrating manner. Of course Boba would know he was more comfortable with shorter hair than longer hair.

“I can go take care of it,” Din said uneasily, glancing back at the door to the bedroom they shared, the broken bedframe just peeking around the corner back at him. He drank more of the spicewine, knowing he’d need to steel himself for his appointment with his reflection.

Boba scoffed, almost offended. Din looked back at him curiously. “Let me?” Boba asked, almost exasperated to even offer his services. Was Din’s hack job really that bad that Boba felt he should take matters into his own hands? At Din’s stunned silence, he continued. “Before the sarlacc, believe it or not, I had a full head of hair.”

“What did you look like?” Din blurted out.

Just like my father.

“Prettier,” Boba said instead. “Come with me.”

They went to the fresher off of their bedroom and Boba instructed him to sit on the floor while he sat behind him. Din looked at the small cabinet before him, already feeling his mind zone out from the body heat Boba’s legs were giving off. It wasn’t kneeling, but the feeling of being here, on the floor with Boba above him, it was close.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a towel was placed around his neck and shoulders. “Easy,” Boba said, pressing a large hand over Din’s head. He filled the sink with water, steam rising from the basin where Din couldn’t see. He started to nervously babble.

“I usually just cut it dry,” Din said. “Just with a knife or something. Never got the hang of clippers.”

“Clippers are a learning curve for everybody,” Boba said with warmth, dipping his hands in the water and bringing them back to Din’s head. He started to run his wet fingers through Din’s hair, distributing the water evenly so he had damp, but not wet hair. Din couldn’t even think to say another thing, the sensation of Boba’s hands on his head proving so distracting he didn’t even notice his head falling forward until Boba gently pushed him back with two fingers on his forehead. They sat there like that, Boba’s hands buried in Din’s hair and gently scratching at his scalp until Din was abuzz with sensation. “You have gray hair at your temples,” Boba observed.

“Sorry,” Din said on instinct, embarrassment turning the tips of his ears a dark pink.

“Nothing to be sorry about. It’s a sign of stature and authority more often than not. Wisdom, experience. I was just starting to go gray when I fell into hell.” Boba’s description of the Pit of Carkoon was concerning. Din didn’t want him to fall into the memories of that experience, not now. He put a hand on Boba’s ankle, just to ground him to this moment, this present. Boba gave a little scratch of appreciation and withdrew his hands. Din almost made a noise of loss, a sad little whimper, but Boba wasn’t going far. He brought his hands back to Din’s head and pulled on the locks a little.

“What are you doing?” Din asked.

“Finding out your curl pattern. My father had these tight, incredibly neat curls, I remember them clear as day, always put together. When I became a man and my hair started to curl tighter like that, I could never get it the same as he looked. Of course, I had been using sonic showers and little else, but hair takes time, hair takes patience and understanding.” It was a bit breathtaking to hear the fearsome Boba Fett speaking about something like this, but he spoke with confidence.

“My hair was never super curly,” Din said.

“You probably never took care of it,” Boba replied. It was blunt, factual. Din couldn’t help but think maybe Boba was talking about more than just his hair. “I don’t have much for you here, but perhaps I’ll show you someday how to take care of it. You won’t want to take a vibroblade to it again.”

Din cringed a little. “You can tell?”

“I can tell.” Boba gave a little hum, a decision made in his head. “Don’t have anything but shears, but let’s see what we can do.”

Gently, Boba began to cut his hair, pulling it in places and letting it fall in others, the soft rasp of the shears and the brush of his fingers through Din’s hair the only sounds between them. Din didn’t feel at all nervous or wary about Boba wielding such a sharp object near his neck. It was...new.

Just like before, the meditative, repetitive task drew a song from Boba’s chest. His hums filled the small room, and Din closed his eyes, remembering the first time Boba had sung it for him. “You remember?” Boba asked in a hushed tone. Din gave a small noise of assent instead of nodding. “Good boy. So attentive for me.”

Din swallowed roughly. He would never get used to the praise, would he? The gentle touches, the attention, the care. Boba folded his ear down a little to cut around the curve of it, and goosebumps broke out all over Din’s skin. “I like when you say things like that,” Din rasped.

“I know,” Boba said, gentle as his touches. “I mean them every time, you know.”

Din’s blush surged up the back of his neck, and Boba was in the perfect position to see it happen. He bit down on a grin. Playing with Din was already something his heart ached to lose, though the surety of that wasn’t certain.

Boba set down the shears after a while and ran his hands through Din’s hair again, shaking out errant clippings and dusting the rest away from his sensitive neck. “There,” he said, a little louder. “Feel it. Length alright?”

Din’s hands followed Boba’s path through his hair. There were no more chunks of unevenness throughout, no dry split ends that he could feel. It was...fuck, it was softer, too. How did Boba do that? It was shorter around the back and sides, most of the length sitting on top. He got to his feet on shaky legs and looked at himself in the mirror.

The man in Din’s reflection was not the one who had walked into the room. How strange, his mind provided, that through the removal of pieces of himself, he could be transformed? He didn’t know that his self-image was so full of hatred and loathing until he saw himself and his immediate reaction was: handsome.

“It’s great,” he choked out, barely breathing.

“Good,” Boba purred, standing with him and dusting off his thighs. “I think you look dashing.”

“Dashing?” Din said disbelievingly.

“Yes, Din Djarin, you are dashing.” Boba caught his gaze in the mirror, before setting his hands on Din’s shoulders. “We should clean you up. Can’t be comfortable with all those little hairs scratching you.”

“I’m fi—”

“Din,” Boba said in a warning tone. “You gonna listen to me?”

“Yes,” Din whispered, unable to look away.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, daddy.” He could no longer hide his blushing ears and cheeks under his long hair, and his affected self shone through clear as day. No more hiding, not for Boba.

“Good boy. Go ahead and undress.”

Boba filled the bathtub and poured in a few oils, leaving the water fragrant and soft. Din accepted Boba’s hand helping him in, and he nearly groaned at the feeling. “What is it?” Boba asked.

“Never had a bath before.” Of course, Greef Karga had tried getting him to visit the Twi’lek healing baths after practically every bounty assignment, but that was a disaster waiting to happen.

“That’s a shame. If you make that noise every time, you’ll be having one as much as I can make happen.” Din’s breath was stolen by Boba’s blunt words, unused to such immodest declarations even now. “Sit.”

Din luxuriated for the first time in his life. Even when bounties took him to glitzy Core planets, he never stayed the night in any of the gilded towers or danced at any glamorous parties. The Crest had been another type of armor in its own right, and the inside of it would have never, ever resembled anything approaching luxury. The bath did its job quickly, soaking heat into his bones and dissipating the remaining tension in his muscles. He was distantly aware of Boba running a soapy cloth over his body, getting his skin just as soft and fragrant as the bathwater. 

“That’s it, just relax,” Boba encouraged. Din nodded, swallowing.

“Daddy?” Din slurred after a few minutes of the gentle treatment.

“Yes, jat’ika.” Boba’s voice seemed to go a little lower when Din called him by the name without being prompted.

“Will you hum for me again? Or talk? I like your voice.”

“I can definitely do that for you.” Boba continued speaking in a low tone, letting his old bounty hunting story wander like his hands were. Din was on the verge of falling asleep in the bath after twenty minutes like that. The water was getting cold. “Let’s get you out,” Boba said in a whisper, standing to get the towel.

Din blinked up at him with sleepy eyes, wide and trusting. He stood for Boba when beckoned, and stayed still while Boba scrubbed the soft towel over his body. They returned to the bedroom, and the change in location reminded Din of his half-hearted attempts at seduction earlier. Really, Djarin? We might die tomorrow so let’s fuck?

Boba seemed to have the same thought, chuckling to himself as he pulled off his shirt. “Well, we could try and break it down the other way,” he said, gesturing to the rather sad faultline in the covers, evidence of their rather aggressive lovemaking on full display.

“Or…” Din’s eyes drifted to the cushy armchair in the corner, under a floor lamp. Boba saw what he was implying and tightened his hand around Din’s waist.

“I like how you think.” He pulled Din over to the chair and took his seat, wrapping his hands around Din’s hips. “Look at you,” Boba growled, eyes raking all over Din’s body. “So fucking beautiful.”

Din went beet-red. “Can I suck your cock?” he asked to break up the tension, already going to his knees.

“Fuck, say that again,” Boba hissed, keeping a heavy grip on Din’s wrists.

“Daddy…” Din shuffled forward and let his head fall on Boba’s knee. “Can I please suck your cock? Please? Wanna say thank you, be good for you.”

“You’re always good for me, jat’ika,” Boba grunted, closing his eyes to regain control over his senses. “Take me out.”

Din moved quickly, pulling on Boba’s fly and getting his rapidly-hardening cock out of his pants. Boba let them go down around his ankles, and Din knelt on them when he moved closer. He had a hungry look in his eyes, eager and begging for Boba’s go-ahead. Boba brought his hand to Din’s hair, scalp still sensitive from the haircut. “Open your mouth. Tongue out.” Din complied, and Boba took a moment to slap the head of his cock against his tongue. Unable to swallow the noise down, Din let out a throaty moan, needy and wanton. Boba lowered Din’s head down so he could get used to the stretch again. “Fuck, Din, your mouth is so hot.”

They moved slow, like they had all the time in the world and the galaxy wasn’t waiting on sunrise to shake them out of their daydream. Din needed hardly any guidance from him, already an expert at sucking Boba’s cock in the last several days of staying in the safehouse. Still, Boba kept his hand on Din’s head, tugging lightly at where his hair was thickest. He gave a firm pull on Din’s hair, pulling him off with a wet noise and a raggedy gasp for air.

“Wh—?” Din said.

“Get the slick from the table.” Din scrambled to obey, and climbed into Boba’s lap when instructed. Boba ran his hands all over Din’s body, skin breaking into goosebumps again. “So responsive for me,” Boba said. Din loved the ownership in his words when he spoke like that. He wanted to be Boba’s so badly. He knew Boba took care of his things as diligently as he took care of himself, and he’d been getting that same care. He could get used to it, honestly. Din pressed a shy kiss to Boba’s lips, which was returned in kind.

He expected the slick finger at his entrance, but still gasped into Boba’s mouth with a breathy, “Daddy…”

“That’s right, sweet boy, go ahead. Ride my finger for me.” Din’s thighs shook as he got used to the motion, lowering himself down on the intrusion with a soft groan. He was just thinking about the stretch of Boba’s cock in its place, and couldn’t wait to take it again, and let the universe shrink down to the size of their bodies once more.

“Feel so good, daddy, want more…”

“More?” Boba asked, keeping a hand on Din’s lower back so he didn’t fall backward. He pushed another slick finger in alongside the first, and swallowed down all of the beautiful noises Din made for him. “There you go, there you go. Good boy.”

Din’s breath hitched and he rolled his hips, just letting Boba explore his insides like they had all the time they wanted. By the time Boba got to three fingers, Din was a babbling mess of pleading and pleasure, teeth almost chattering with excited jitters coursing through his veins.

“Daddy, want your cock, want it in me, please, daddy, please give me your cock,” Din begged into Boba’s neck, trying not to drool all over his shoulder but not able to help himself. He was humping the air, drawn between rocking back onto Boba’s hand and searching for any kind of friction on his dick.

“You asked so nicely, I suppose I can give you what you want,” Boba chuckled, his rough breathing the only outward sign of how Din was affecting him. He removed his fingers from Din’s stretched hole and kissed away the soft pout that sprung to Din’s expressive face. Within a few heartbeats, he was pushing up, up, up into Din, finally. Din’s face was contorted in a mix of relief and discomfort. Boba moved slowly until Din’s ass finally rested on Boba’s lap. “Good boy, take me so well. Just stay like that a little longer, just a minute, jat’ika.”

Din shook in his arms, the weight of the universe threatening to break through his mind again. Boba kept a steady monologue in his ear, all praise and filthy fucking promises he knew Din wouldn’t have ever heard in his life. He pressed kisses into Din’s neck and shoulders, looking up at him with reverence and affection in his eyes.

It struck him how vulnerable they both allowed themselves to be around one another. Would they have this tomorrow? Would they let their guards again down after the rescue? Would Boba cease to be important in Din’s life? Boba hid how his hands shook by wrapping his arms around Din’s torso and pulling him up a few inches on his cock. Din gasped in his ear, a beautiful half-formed word lost in the rapids of sensation.

Their skin stuck in places and Din’s legs shook with exertion after a while of keeping this position, but urgency hit them at the same moment, that same fervor of the first night in the safehouse returning for their last night in paradise. Din met Boba’s eyes and the rest of the world fell away. Boba kissed him deeply once more, full of uncertainty and need. He was a selfish man. He would guard these memories with greed and envy as battlements in a house of cards. He found himself jealous of the blood in Din’s veins by the simple virtue of being in Din’s heart.

Their control broke like a snapped string, not even knowing they were fraying under tension. Din cried out and brought a hand to Boba’s chest as the head of Boba’s cock brushed his prostate, stealing his breath somehow more than it had already been stolen in the preceding moments. Boba’s grip found Din’s throbbing dick, and it only took a few firm pumps of his hand before Din was coming all over his chest with a shout. Boba was entranced, watching the long column of Din’s neck tense and flex around a silent plea for mercy. When Din finished coming, Boba wiped the come on his hand along Din’s side, over the jumping muscles of his abdomen. His chest heaved, mouth hanging slack and open and bitten and perfect. Boba held him hard, chasing his own release.

“Wanna come all over your face, jat’ika,” Boba grunted. Din gave another throaty moan and nodded, hands going to the arms of the chair so he was ready to hop off at a moment’s notice. When the familiar tension built in Boba’s gut, he nodded tightly at him.

Din nearly collapsed off of the chair, landing on his ass and gasping. Boba towered above him, quickly tugging at his dick, still slick and hot from being inside of Din. “You want me to come on you, Din?”

“Yes, daddy, please come on me.”

Boba bit off another shout and tensed all over, the pleasure crashing over him like a tidal wave. He groaned as he covered Din in his release, thick white ropes of come striping over Din’s pale skin.

Marking him.

The aftershocks of his orgasm hit him especially hard, threatening to buckle his knees. Din’s eyes were glassy and heavy-lidded, still coming down from his own pleasure. Boba collapsed into the chair again, just watching his boy laid out on the floor beneath him.

In the middle of the deafening silence that permeated between their heavy breaths, Din started to laugh. It was a beautiful, joyous noise. His eyes were squeezed shut, bent double and shaking. His voice was hoarse as all hell, but his laughter felt fresh, like he didn’t have many opportunities to do it that often.

“What’s so funny, sweet boy?”

Din grinned up at him, trying to speak again before breaking into laughter again. It brought a wide smile to Boba’s face, though his body bled exhaustion and tiredness.

“Y-you got me dirty again. After all that work getting me clean.” He found it just too amusing not to laugh at, caught between the too-hard future and the too-soft now. Boba hoped he could trust joy as easily as this.

“Well, I won’t leave you that way for long. Just let me rest a minute,” Boba chuckled.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Read on AO3.

[lu-undy]

Chapter 89 - SBT

Here it is!

"Here, Micky, a bigger bowl." 

"Oh, thanks, Mum! Come along, babies, Dad is gonna show you stuff." 

Caroline opened the French window for Mundy and the cats to step in the garden. 

"Careful with the chickens, they aren't toys or food, eh?" Mundy told the cats who froze when they saw the few ginger hens. "Eggs first?" He asked his mother who nodded. 

"Yes, please, you'll find them on your left, you'll see your father built them a little coop." 

"Oh, alright." Mundy cast a glance over the cats. Soot had stepped between Perle and the curious hen pecking at the grass. 

"Meow…" He slowly lowered his body closer to the ground and his pupils went wide.

"No, no huntin' of the hens, Sooty boy…" 

Soot looked up at Mundy. 

"Meow!" 

"No, they're nice, look." Mundy put the bowl down and crouched to take a hen and sit on the ground. He petted her gently while Caroline watched the whole scene unravel before her eyes. "C'mere and touch, she's soft." 

Soot hesitated but Perle trusted Mundy and came closer, albeit prudently. She raised a paw and Mundy held it between his fingers. 

"Good girl, don't be scared… Here, see? The hen is a friend."

"Meow?" 

"Yeah, a friend. She's not scared of ya, see? She's just curious. C'mon, Sooty boy, man up and c'mere." 

Soot approached but positioned himself such that Perle was always between him and the chicken. 

"Don't be shy… Gimme yer paw."

Soot averted his green eyes and looked down. 

"C'mon…" 

Perle turned to him and after a few affectionate licks and some purrs, her charms worked and Soot raised his paw. 

"Good boy… Here…"

"Meow?" He raised apprehensive eyes to Mundy.

"It's safe, don't worry. You trust your Dad, right?"

There was a second of hesitation and Soot meowed again. Mundy gently pulled his paw and his black pads came into contact with the hen's feathers. 

"Here we go… Gently… No, we don't slap her… Pearl, show him, baby… See? The wifey's not scared, eh?" 

"You still are as good with animals as you've always been." Caroline said with a sweet grin. Mundy smiled back at her as she came to ruffle his hair. He was sitting on the grass, his legs open, with the hen in his hands and Perle and Soot between his long legs. 

"Especially these two, they're adorable." 

"Aw… And you really behave like their Dad, eh?" 

Mundy blushed. 

"Y-yeah, well, I raised them… L-let's get the eggs eh?" He stood up and released the hen. "Oh that's a gorgeous little house they have..." He discovered a quite large wooden coop. "How many chickens d'you have?" 

"A dozen maybe? And a couple of roosters, too."

Both approached the coop and the chickens cackled happily. 

"Ladies and gents, hey there…" Mundy ran his hands on their feathers. "I'm surprised they're not scared."

"I hold them in my arms all the time."

"Why not get a cat or a dog? Better pet than chickens, eh?" 

"Yeah but after what happened in the farm, it's hard to even just have those few hens." Caroline sighed. 

"Hey…" Mundy went closer to her and, bending down, he hugged her. "What happened at the farm won't happen again, Mum."

"I know but… I'm always scared… Who knows what could happen here?" 

"There's no oil or anythin' here, and even if there was, Duchemin's dead."

"Yeah…" Caroline hugged her son back. "Micky?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I missed you so much." 

"So did I, Mum. Went mad without you. I even missed my fights with Dad."

She tapped him on the back. 

"Such a good boy you are… C'mon, let's get the eggs." 

"Sure." 

They both helped each other and collected all the eggs in the coop. 

"Leave just one or two, in case there's a chick inside."

"Okay. What next?" 

"Next, you can fill the basket with whatever veggies you like, come follow me."

"Really? Mum, no, c'mon, you need the money…" 

"Nonsense!" Caroline turned and walked away, heading for the little vegetable farm.  "I'm gonna make sure you can eat before I can sell anything, you're my son and baby, no way I'm feedin' people before I feed you." 

Mundy smiled. 

"But Mum, you need to keep stuff to sell it - oh, my God! That's amazing!" 

Mundy's sentence and his breath altogether cut short when his eyes fell on his parent's garden. 

"You have such a big garden, Mum, it's great!" Mundy's eyes eagerly scanned every plant, every stem and every leaf of the green lines of fresh vegetables that all beckoned his eyes.

"Aw, it's smaller than what we had back in the days but it gets us enough money." 

"Mum, this is great…!" He crouched next to the melons. "Babies? C'mere, let me explain, now, no, no claws, only touch with your little paws… There, good babies… Look at these flowers, see them?"

"Meow…!"

"Soot, don't put your face in the flower… Scared but curious you are, eh? Yeah, it's a melon flower, you can't see it, but it's orange. And you know what? They open when the sun rises and then close for the night."

Perle came closer and sniffed the flower. 

"Meow." 

"You like it?" 

"Meow…." She purred and Mundy scratched her head. 

"And look here. What are these, d'you remember them? Papa loves them." Mundy pointed at some vegetables.

"Meow!" 

"Yeah, it's peppers! Good girl…!" Mundy kissed Perle's head.

"Papa?" Caroline repeated as she picked a melon and put it in the basket.

"Yeah, that's Lu's name for Pearl."

"He's Papa and you're Dad?" Caroline picked a few bell peppers. 

"Y-yeah…" Mundy blushed. "B-but yeah, uh, Lu', he likes those bell peppers. Makes ratatouilles with them." He tried to justify himself and lead the conversation away.

"You like it?" 

"What?" 

"His ratatouille?" She asked.

"Yeah…? It's… It's nice. It's a French thing. Smells really good too when he cooks it. The entire house smells of it." 

Caroline smiled and Mundy's eyes went back to the vegetables. He walked through among the rows, stopping at each new kind of plant and had the cats touch it, sometimes even let them have a taste. 

"Sooty boy, cherry tomatoes aren't toys, stop slappin' them, there, good boy. Wanna taste one? C'mere. Baby Pearl, c'mere too. Here… Y'like it? Yeah, you do! It's nice, isn't it?"

Caroline followed her son and filled his basket with whatever was ripe.

"Oh by the way, Micky, I have a few other things I want to give you." 

"Mum, you've already filled this big basket with stuff, you shouldn't have…!" 

"Yeah, I should have! Now, be a dear and carry it back home and follow me." 

"Right. Babies, wanna follow? Oh, yeah, they do. Alright, c'mon, chop, chop!" 

They made it back inside of the house and Mundy put the basket on the kitchen table. 

"I made these things a few weeks ago now," Caroline started as she went to the tip of her toes and opened some cupboards. She took some glass jars out and adjusted her glasses to read the stickers on them more easily. "Ah, that's the one." She took one of the jars and added it to the basket. 

"What's that?" Mundy took a look. "Oh! Apricot jam? Really?" His face brightened with a smile. 

"Still your favorite, yeah?" She asked.

"Oh yeah, still my favourite, always! Thank you so much, Mum…!" He hugged her dearly. 

"Aw, sweetie, it's nothing…" 

"Nah, don't say that, it's the best jam ever." He closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time apricot jam had a strong effect on him. His eyes snapped open when he realised that it was at Victoria's diner, when he was sharing the crêpes with Lucien… 

"I'll wash a couple of apples and we can sit and have them, yeah?" She suggested. 

"Sure." They broke the embrace. 

"Wanna have it inside or out under the sun?" She asked as she rinsed two red apples.

"Outside?" 

"Alright, here, let's go." She gave him one and he opened the French window for her. They both stepped outside again, followed by the cats. Caroline took a seat on a chair while Mundy preferred to sit cross-legged on the grass in front of her. Perle and Soot jumped between his thighs and laid there, in a pile of fluff. The sun and Mundy's scratches gently soothed them to sleep. 

"Aw, look at your cats, they're sleepin' together…" Caroline tilted her head on the side and smiled. 

"Yeah, they're adorable. I love them."

"They love you too, listen to them purr…"

Mundy grinned. He looked around him and took a deep breath. The Aussie loved being in a grassy lawn with his mother. They both took a crunchy bite of their apples. 

"Mh…! Super juicy. Is this from the garden too?" 

"Yeah, we got a few trees, apples, pears, apricots… The basics." 

"Meow." Perle opened her eyes and yawned. Mundy scratched her head and she blinked slowly.

"Hey, baby, short nappy, eh?" 

"Meow…" She hopped off of Mundy's lap and stretched in the grass while Soot was still sleeping. She played with the straws of green and fresh grass before going to Caroline's legs and brushing herself on her. 

"Aw, Pearl, y'like me?" Caroline asked. 

"Meow." She answered. 

"That's your Grandma right there, baby." Mundy answered. 

"Grandma?" Caroline repeated. "I thought only Soot was yours and Pearl was Lucien's?"

"Y-well…" Mundy blushed again. "I-It's a shared custody… I mean she obeys me as much as him, eh." 

Perle sniffed Caroline's trousers on her legs before looking up and jumping on her lap. 

"Aw, hello, Pearl… Can I pet you?" 

"Yeah, she's very easy, go ahead." 

"You're so soft…! Does she shed a lot of hair everywhere in the house?" Caroline asked. 

"We're used to it now, we find long white hair everywhere. If it's medium length, it's her, if it's proper long, it's Lu's few white streaks."

Perle lay down and blinked slower and slower under Caroline's strokes. 

"Look at her, she likes you, Mum." 

"I guess she does. She's beautiful…!"

"Meow." 

"You're welcome." Caroline answered with a chuckle. Both Mundy and her soon finished their apples. They were under the sun, for the cats' greatest delight, and were silently appreciating each other's company. 

"Micky?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Your friend, Lucien, you trust him, right?" 

"Yeah, I do, why?" 

"Well, I don't know… I'd say be careful, eh? You never know." 

Mundy frowned. 

"What d'you mean? Why d'you say that?" 

"Something's… off with him." She answered. 

"What?" 

"Don't you think it's a little bit odd?" 

"Mum, you gotta be clearer." 

"Right, right… His suit last time, remember it?" 

"Yeah, the beige one? What about it?" 

"It's a Lemercier, it's the most expensive tailor in town, and yet he said to be struggling with money…?"

Mundy's pupils retracted to a dot and his breath stopped. Bugger, his mother had to be that observant…

"And when you came before that, I saw him with another suit through the window. Looked as neat as a Lemercier." 

Mundy bit his lip and lowered his head. 

"All I'm saying is that he might be hiding things from you, and those things might be heaps of money he doesn't want anyone to know of… Look, Micky, were the circumstances different, I wouldn't care a bit. After all, this is none of my or your business."

"But…?" Mundy anticipated, raising his eyes to his mother. 

"But you both… dealt with a guy. You're both supposed to… not be free." She looked right and left and whispered, just in case. "What do you know about that man? He could report you to the police, or even be the police for that matter!"

"Mum, I'm sure he won't, don't worry. He just likes to dress fancy."

"Alright, fair, but where does the money come from for him to pay custom-made suits where he is a teacher for poor kids? Surely that isn't his only source of money? And why pretend he can't afford to live alone if he clearly can?" 

Mundy started sweating. Of all the lies and well constructed nonsense that he and Lucien had told his parents, it was the one thing they hadn't talked about that had planted the seed of doubt in Caroline, namely, Lucien's clothing style. 

"Well the answer's clear, Micky!"

"What?" 

"If he pretends to not be able to pay for the rent on his own but has to live with you, it's because he needs you close!" 

Mundy blushed. 

"W-what d'you mean, he needs me close?"

"He can't afford to have you walkin' around on your own far from him!"

"W-Why?" Mundy's heartbeat accelerated and Soot woke up. 

"Because you both did what you did to that guy!" 

Mundy sighed in relief. For a second, he thought his mother might have guessed that they were more than partners in crime. 

"Yeah, well…?"

"Yeah! And he wants to make sure you won't turn him in! So he keeps you close!" 

Mundy couldn't hold back a smile.

"Mum, no, don't worry…"

"How can you be so calm about it?! First, you live with… well… a criminal."

"I'm one too, eh. He didn't do it alone."

"Yeah, but contrary to you, he's a liar." She answered and it sawed Mundy's heart in half. He wanted to protest and defend Lucien, but he couldn't do much without telling Caroline the truth. "And if he's lying about one thing, God knows how many other things he lied about."

"Mum…"

"No, Micky, look at me… I'm worried for you, sweetie. You live with a dangerous man is all I want you to understand and…"

"Did you tell Dad about it?" 

"No, I didn't. If I had, he'd have gone mad worrying. And we both know that your Dad isn't the best when it comes to reactin' to situations like that, eh?" 

"Yeah, thanks for not tellin' him." 

"I'm not telling him but…" Caroline raised an index finger and Mundy, a curious eyebrow. "I'll ask you to come here and live with us instead. We have a house, an extra room, you'll be back home and I won't worry so much about you."

"But Mum, I finally did it! I got a job and a place, you want me to break all that cause Lu' wears fancy suits?!"

"Micky, you know it's not about the suits. It's about you bein' safe. The man is elegant, has good manners, and everythin'. But he is hiding things from you, important things, stuff that could be scary to you and us, and maybe it's dangerous, who knows? I'd rather have you here with us than there with him."

Mundy sighed and covered his face with his hands. 

"Micky… Look at it that way. If he's lyin' about one thing, he might be lying about a billion more, who knows? That story about his fiancée and son, maybe it's all made up? Maybe he wasn't in the army at all? Why did he then travel all the way to Australia and help you? Nothin' makes sense!"

"No." Mundy answered and removed his hands off his face. "It's… It's… I mean… It's all true, the fiancée and son, I saw pictures of them with him. And what he did to Duchemin… He…" Mundy looked left and right and whispered. "He carved their names with his knife on the bloke's chest, on top of the burns I made." 

Caroline's eyes snapped wide and her eyebrows jumped. 

"If none of that's true, surely he wouldn't have done that, would it? And he wouldn't have wanted to get that guy, right? Nothin' makes sense because you don't get it, Mum." 

"What?" She asked. 

"I… I appreciate… that you're worried for me. But I know what I'm doin', ok? I know Lu', I know him very well and he knows me very well too. Just… Just trust me." 

Caroline took a deep breath. 

"Micky… I'd love to trust you, but I can't. That man is hiding stuff from you and it could be dangerous." Caroline gently nudged Perle who jumped out of her lap and joined her son on the grass. She sat next to him and cupped his face. "I lost you once, Micky, I don't want to run that risk, or any risk, ever again." She added. 

Mundy sighed. 

"Mum… I can't do that." He said, lowering his head. 

"Why? It's ok, I'll deal with your Dad, I'll tell him what I think and he won't think any less of you, don't worry."

"I'm not worryin' about that." Mundy admitted. 

"What's the problem then? Tell me, sweetie." 

Mundy raised distraught eyes to his mother. 

"I can't tell you. But you have to trust me, please." 

"Micky, you're startin' to worry me now, what is it?" Her hazel eyes darted left and right behind her glasses to Mundy's. 

The Aussie lowered his head and laid it against his mother's chest. She hugged him dearly. 

"What is it, Micky? Please, tell me, I promise I won't be mad and I won't tell your Dad." 

"I can't…" 

"Why? Is he forcin' you to keep your mouth shut?"

"No, not him." 

"Who then? Who's preventing you from speaking?" She asked, determined to change that for her son. 

"You." He answered. 

"What?!" Her eyebrows jumped behind her glasses.

"You and Dad." 

"What?!" She repeated. "Micky, we never want you to keep important stuff away from us." 

Mundy nodded his head against his mother's chest. 

"No!" She answered. "Never, ever, did we ever ask you such a thing! What are you talking about?!" She hugged him tighter. 

"I can't tell you, because you don't want to hear it." He said and his breath hitched. 

"Micky…? What is it? Bloody hell, if you're crying, it's really scary then…!" 

Mundy raised his head off of his mother's chest and wiped his face with his sleeve. 

"I can't tell you here." He sniffled. "We have to go out." 

"We're already out in the garden!" 

"No, out of here, far from Dad. He's in the house." 

"Where d'you want us to go?" 

"I'll take you home and show you. But Mum, you gotta promise to never ever tell Dad about it, ok?" 

"Well, depends what it is!" She almost exclaimed. "If it's dangerous, I have to tell him." 

"Mum, it's really not dangerous, but you gotta promise. If you think you might tell Dad, then I'm not showing you." 

"Micky…"

"No, no, you gotta swear." 

She sighed. 

"That's blackmail, Micky." 

"It was blackmail too when you asked me to come live here otherwise you'd tell Dad that I'm in danger." He answered and her eyebrows jumped up. "But I don't mean to blackmail you, like you didn't mean to do to me, I just want to tell you." He was begging with his eyes. "Please, Mum, please, let me tell you… Swear you won't tell him and I'll tell you the truth." 

Caroline looked at her son's distraught and pleading eyes. She took a deep breath and didn't hesitate long. 

"Alright, I swear I won't tell him." 

"Swear on somethin' that matters." 

"Micky…!"

"Mum-!" Mundy stopped himself and lowered his voice. "Mum, please… I want to tell you, I want to tell you so, so, much, but I'm scared… I'm so bloody scared I feel like I can't do anythin' and I'm just in a prison of lies." He sniffled and his breath went hitched again. 

"Ssh… Wipe your tears, baby." She hugged him dearly. "Sweetie, I swear on your father's head that I won't tell him a thing. I love you, Micky, you're my only baby and I don't want you to be so scared of your Dad that you keep things away from me too. Oh, Gosh… Alright, let it go, sweetie, it's ok, it's ok…" 

Mundy cried against his mother's chest. He was about to hit a point of no return. Telling her the truth about his relationship with Lucien might liberate him, or it might lock him up in his closet forever.

[heir-of-talon]

Another chapter with my favourite ship. But maybe I should wreck it?

HEIR OF TALON 3

Warnings: explicit/underage

Summary:

Garret and Ember spend a day together trying to have fun.

Boy of summer

Garret

I woke up aroused and confused entangled in Ember's warm body. She was asleep, with her thigh carelessly thrown across my hips, her arm resting on my chest with the palm over my rapidly beating heart. I laid motionless for a while enjoying the touch of our bodies, feeling her breath on my neck and wishing that we could stay like this forever. But how could we with all the work awaiting us? This was not a good life for a young girl. Not that I knew much about it, yet still I could see her fading away, every time I saw her she was less lively, less herself and more tired, sad or angry. She insisted that this was what she wanted, that this was important to her. But the Order was less and less important to me. With each group of survivors emerging I could see, that the Order of St George was founded on values, that I could no longer share or excuse. I only continued as their commander to ensure, that the Order will not bounce right back and attack the dragons. But maybe being away in order to protect Ember from a change of hearts in the Order I was failing her in other ways, that were just as important. There, bleak thoughts chased away excitement and pleasure. I needed to get up and get active to clear my head.

I tried gently to wriggle free of Ember's limbs when she tensed and a pair of green eyes snapped open pinning me with intense gaze. The tension and expression melted away almost immediately and she smiled lazily. "Good morning commander" she said raising on one elbow to gaze down at me. Her fingertips slowly traced irregular patterns on the bare skin of my chest sending sweet thrills into my stomach. She pouted her lips and my thoughts strayed to another time, when she was touching me like that, a cargo bed in a clearing in some forgotten end of woods. I wanted her so much, I gathered her closer to my chest with my one arm. "Good morning ma'am, any special wishes for your humble servant?" She giggled and patted me mockingly. "Don't! Think if somebody hears us now? That would ruin the alliance. They would think I have you in thrall." She teased. "Maybe you do?" I said solemnly. "I do what?" She asked. "Have me in thrall. Because I feel that I would do anything for you without giving it a second thought". I looked deep into her eyes letting the joke and the truth sink in. Ember smiled and kissed me, pressing her body closer to mine. I ran my hand down her back and ass and felt heat kindling again in the pit of my stomach. She felt my cock pressing at her thigh and purred with delight before she straddled me grinding her breasts and belly against my upper body. I held her and kissed her, tasting her tongue and breath. I wanted her, my loins were on fire aching with desire and she was right there on top of me, warm and eager. I wanted her to burn me again, if she must. I just needed to be as close as possible. Some part of me seemed melting and running into her already. I felt my heart burning for her when my hands slipped under her t-shirt and stroked her back and sides of her breast, that were pressed tightly against me. I gripped her ass with my other hand. We needed to get her out of these clothes. I peered into Ember's eyes to tell her that and my voice caught in my throat. I could feel blood chilling in my veins. The impression was there and gone but I suddenly felt strange premonition and a thought crossed my mind, that she could just as well be on another planet the way things were. As if some illusion got dispelled by whatever I found on the bottom of the smiling green eyes. So I took her face in both my hands, kissed her briefly and asked. "What do you want to do today?"

"How about nothing?" She said. "I should probably go to my office and grant a ratification of Viper's agreement." She mused, her forehead creasing. "What are you going to do?" She asked. "I'm taking a day off to maintain my dragon girlfriend" I said smiling. "She can literally breath fire and bite my head off and I've been rather neglecting her lately..." Ember smiled happily and kissed me. "Deal. I cannot believe it is the soldier who talks me into skipping work!" She laughed. I rolled to the side making her to lay down beside me and kissing her. We kissed and touched for some time and it was great even though some of the strangely unpleasant feeling lingered in my chest. At last Ember declared herself famished and we decided to leave the bed and seek some breakfast.

*****

I walked towards the waterline with my newly bought and waxed surfing board. Ember let herself woo into buying a new high-tech board that doesn't require waxing by the attendant at the surfing shop and course centre by the beach. Then she proceeded to huff and puff and roll her eyes when I waxed mine with the attendant giving me tips and talking about how fine the weather was for surfing. When I was finished she ran towards the water and now waited for me in shallows beckoning for me to hurry. "Come on Garret! What is it? Are you regretting our bet?" She grinned. I said nothing watching distant surf ahead. "Don't worry, I'll treat you kindly when you lose." "How generous of you." I answered and started deeper into the water. I was exhilarated I could almost feel the vastness of the ocean surrounding me, the freedom calling to me. I looked at Ember and could see, that she had the same revelation. She was grinning madly with her eyes shining, there was nothing left of the exhausted girl in crumpled suit from yesterday. She might be CEO of Talon but she looked more like an overworked intern. It was quite a swim to reach the swells, but neither of us complained. Finally we were there and the wave was coming. Ember's attention focused completely on getting ready to catch it, so I decided to strike back. "How much money?!" I shouted. "What?" She seemed confused her eyes still focused on incoming swells. "How much money you bet on me being pounded more than you?!" "Million dollars soldier boy, you are going down!" She shouted and made to stand up anytime. "I cannot match that!" I teased her. "Million dollars against a daim!" She grinned madly and tried to stand up. I followed her suit and after wobbling a bit went tumbling off into turquoise waters. When I emerged and got water out of my eyes I saw Ember already recovering her board visibly enjoying herself.

Her enjoyment was somewhat diminished when, after three more approaches, where we both got wiped out, I managed to catch the wave and ride it without falling. The experience was almost overwhelming, after months of running, fighting and then managing what was left of the Order, I have almost forgotten, what it is like to do something for the sheer feeling of it. Three more rides and Ember was scowling, she fell off every time and finally, I could not enjoy this anymore. "Let's call it a day!" I shouted to her. "No! You don't get to win this easily!" She seemed close to tears and I could not stand the thought, that I have somehow caused this. I could not remember Ember being such a sour loser. I waded all the way to her and hugged her tightly. "Ember, it's not fun anymore. Let's go and get something to eat." Food managed to lift her spirits nine out of ten times. She looked at me as if she was about to say something nasty, but then she seemed to relax.

We got out of water, changed into dry clothes and drove to a steak house not far away. Over a steak that could cover her whole upper body Ember seemed to cheer up a bit. I watched amazed as the enormous piece of meat disappeared fast in this slip of a girl. It was fascinating, how could I ever have missed this ravenous appetite?

"Go on. Mock me. I deserve it." She said. "Come on Ember, can't we let it go? Or maybe agree on best out of three..." I did not care a bit about this wager, and it definitely was not worth Ember's discomfort for me. "No! I've lost miserably and now have to explain to Archivist, why exactly we have to transfer one million dollars to you." I was dumbstruck. "Don't even think about it! I wouldn't accept it. I didn't mean it seriously." She must have hit her head. "A bet is a bet. You might not have meant it, but I did." She said. "Why? Why would you want to bet a million to a daim on anything?". I was incredulous. "Because I was sure I'd win? Because I have all this millions and apparently can't use them on anything that would bring me joy..." Ember was tearing up again, it pained me to see her so fragile, she was definitely not well. I stood up and slipped into our booth on her side of the table. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her to my chest. "I don't want your money Ember. I love you. I want you to be happy. I know you feel that changing Talon is your responsibility, but maybe someone else could help to administrate the changes?" She looked at me doubtfully. "If you have that much money, maybe pay uncle Liam and aunt Sarah to take care of you in Crescent Beach until you turn eighteen? You could surf every day after school with Lexi and Calvin." I stopped seeing her gaping at me. Then she started to laugh, somewhat joyless, until it turned into sobs and she was weeping and I had no idea what to do other than to hold her.

At last she came to herself. "Oh Garret, how wonderful this would be. But it's impossible." "Why? Why is it impossible Ember? I am sick of the Order. They are adults, let them clean their own mess. We need to do other things in our lives than their bidding. Isn't that why you've rebelled in the first place?" She watched me in silence. "I would gladly leave the Order. Even if that meant I'd have to go to school and work at a gas station. If it meant that I could be with you." I stopped having said all I had to say.

"Oh my! Garret, you truly mean it?!" She said at last. Then she looked very conflicted. "They will never let us go Garret. I don't know if I can live a normal life. This is too much!" But I could feel that she was considering it, so I said. "You don't have to decide right now. Just think about it. I want very much to be with you. Even if you stay in Talon. I could be your bodyguard." Finally Ember's gaze softened. "You would do that for me? Leave the Order?" She said. "I already did. Something just got messed up underway and we ended up exactly, where we started." I said. I have been thinking a lot about our current situation and with each day, when I was away from Ember, fighting Order's battles in a war where there was neither honour nor fortune for me to win, I saw clearer how life was slipping through my fingers. It was possible that it would take more than human lifetime to change the Order and Talon. And even though I was granted extended life by Riley I felt, that this time would be wasted just as well. We would not be as we are, to move on, once the process is advanced enough to let it continue on its own. Ember was already changed beyond recognition after mere months of this life. I caught myself more and more often at hating the Order of St George and Talon and all the mess I was handling on the behalf of both. We had a choice. We've made this choice once, we could make it again. So I put my arms tightly around her and said. "I want to be with you Ember. You've told me, I can live for centuries. But my mind and heart are still human. I miss you. I feel I'm wasting my life being away and struggling to keep control of an organisation, that I'd rather leave. We could be together. I would take care of you while you're taking care of your business." Ember twisted in my embrace putting her arms around my waist and pressed her face to my chest, hugging me tightly. I held her feeling once again the rightness of this, this was where I was supposed to be. This was what I should be doing. At last she looked up at me with shining eyes. "I want that Garret. I miss you too. And Talon can be too much. But I'm afraid that if I just cash out few millions and leave, I'll wake up surrounded by Vipers some time soon. Talon must be at least partially dismantled before it's safe to leave it alone." She started frowning her look vacant. "Then let us work towards this together." I said. "Okay, let's do this together." She said calm now.

I moved back to sit in front of my cold food. Fortunately I have eaten enough before Ember started crying. We ordered waffles with softice for dessert and headed for Ember's apartment. In the car Ember spoke suddenly. "I think I'll give you the million anyways... don't protest. You don't have to use it if you don't want it. Think about it as something you're keeping safe for me, should I ever need it. Like an emergency trust found." It did not sit well with me. "Only if you consider my offer." I answered. "About Crescent Beach." "Deal, I'll think about it." She answered a bit too smugly. We drove back to city listening to old rock songs playing from the radio. Sun was slowly setting and the world was cast in this unreal light, that made it look like a place from a fairytale, like anything was possible.

***

We tumbled onto Ember's white sofa right after entering the apartment. Any weariness from being pounded and peddling for hours left me instantly. Ember pulled off her t-shirt and I cupped her warm soft breast in my hand feeling her heart beating wildly inside it. I bent to kiss it, tasting her skin and hard pointy nipple when my phone rang.

Only two people had this number, it was only to be used in case of emergency. "Ember it's emergency number." I said apologetically and fished the phone from my pants. It was Tristan. It could wait. I put it on silent and moved to lay between Ember's legs again when she braced her hand on my chest. "If it's an emergency shouldn't you check it?" She asked. I should but I don't want to. I thought, and aloud I said. "It's Tristan, he probably wants to know when I will be back." "Still you should check." She said pulling on her t-shirt and pressing her knees together leaving me with few other options. I groaned with disappointment and nestled in another corner of the sofa.

"What is it?" My voice was raspy and my tone was slightly impatient. I cleared my throat. "Have I interrupted something commander?!" Tristan sounded uncharacteristically sour. "Yes, get to the point." I was sure my discomfort could match whatever he felt. "An hour ago commander Knight, six of his people and his wife and daughter arrived. He claims to be commander of some southern chapterhouse, that I have never heard about. He says they're top secret intelligence team. Anyways he's already questioning alliance with dragons, threatening us all with persecution for treason and claiming command over Western Chapterhouse including you and me. So you better get here before he executes someone commander." Shit. Apparently I could not catch a break either.

I quickly reported news to Ember. "You should go right away Garret." She said solemnly. "This sounds serious and dangerous.... for our plans. You and Tristan are the only people inside the Order of St George, that I can trust. We can't risk you getting sidelined by some conservative bloodthirsty commander." As more and more blood circulated in my body I could see her point and had a few of my own to add, but I hated leaving her like that. "I don't want to leave you." I said. "You are not leaving me. You go away to make preparations for our escape." She gave me a brave smile and I kissed her hungrily, letting my hands roam her body, trying commit to memory as much of her as possible, the touch of soft warm skin, the taste of her lips, scent of her hair. I was about to suggest we wait with it till the morning, when she pulled away. "Go Garret. Call me when you know more. I'll help you any way I can, remember." She kissed me again. "I love you Garret. Even though I can't surf anymore." She added and followed me to the doors where she kissed me once more and stood watching,  when I waited for the elevator.

[avengerscompound]

Catch and Release - 10

Catch and Release: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2063

Rating:  E

Square filled:  @star-spangled-bingo​ - A thoughtful gift

Warnings:  Smut (Bi MMF threesome, very light d/s, oral sex, anal sex, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: When you overexert yourself on a mission with Steve and Bucky, the boys admit to having fantasies that involve you.  Fantasies that you share.  But with one Super Soldier needs intimacy and the other is still dealing with being touch starved, exploring those desires without anyone catching feelings is a little tricky.

Chapter 10: Domestication

You showed up to Steve and Bucky's apartment with a bag full of Thai food and a small gift shoved in your pocket.  You'd been thinking about Bucky’s predicament and you'd come up with an idea.  You weren't totally sure it would work but you figured it was worth a try.  Your main concern was how long it might take for it to work.

This thing the three of you had - it was fun.  There was no denying that.  It was had also been going on for a while.  That would be fine if Bucky and Steve were the casual sex, sleep with your friends' type, but Natasha was right.  They weren't.

You’d all been very careful about where the lines were.  Work was work.  When you were at work, Steve was your boss and you did what you were told and he never made any unreasonable requests of you.  You'd made sure you were nurturing the friendship.  Especially being sure to hang out with other people too.

Still, that line between friends and more than friends was getting very blurry.  You had started to wonder how many more times you could do this before you all lost sight of it.  As it was you had nearly turned down a date simply because you didn’t want to be dating and sleeping with Bucky and Steve, and Bucky and Steve were currently a sure thing.  Or maybe they were just safe.  There was definitely a large safety component.  They were your friends.  You liked being with them.  You knew they would do their best to never hurt you.  Plus they were pretty close to being a sure thing.

“So I had an idea to help with the whole bondage thing,” you said as you dipped an egg roll in sweet and sour sauce.

Bucky looked up at you expectantly while Steve choked on a mouthful of mu shoo.  “The what?”  He said.

“You know,” Bucky said, sheepishly.  “You told me how that’s something that turned you on to think of.  But I said…”

“Bucky I - I…”  Steve stammered, cutting Bucky off.  “We don’t need to do this.  I was just talking and … you’re enough.  I wouldn’t want to do anything that hurt you.”

As Steve spoke a deep blush spread through his skin, until his cheeks and down the back of his neck were flushed a dark pink.

“Steve, I want you to get everything you want,” Bucky argued.

“You are everything I want,” Steve frowned.

Bucky leaned in and kissed him deeply, cupping the blond’s jaw with his metal hand.

“Gag,” you teased.  “I shouldn’t have to witness that.”

They pulled back laughing softly.  “Gonna have to suck it up.”  Bucky teased, reaching over and poking you.  “So what’s your idea?”

You pulled the ribbons out of your pockets and put them on the table.  “It might be stupid.  But I thought if we tried first building up to it.  You know how I told you to do the praise stuff.  I can do that too.  Be a little bossy.  Maybe a little rough.  Whatever Steve’s into.  But just the bare edges of it and increase it a little each time.  But also, while we’re trying that if we wrapped these ribbons around his arms.  In fact, if you do that every time you’re together, maybe you’d start seeing them as sexy.  So when I use them to actually tie him up, you’d like seeing them.  And even if it is slightly uncomfortable for you, it’s still only ribbon, you know Steve can break out of it if he wanted to.”

“Easily,” Steve agreed.

Bucky nodded and looked at Steve.  “You want to try that?”

Steve smiled softly and reached over, giving Bucky’s hand a squeeze.  “I hope you’re aware of how much I love you,” Steve said.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah.  Don’t know why, but I know you do.”  He said.  “I love you too.”

Steve leaned in and kissed him, softly and deeply.  His hand ran up Bucky’s arm and gripped the back of his neck gently.

“Guys!  I’m trying to eat.” You teased.

Bucky pulled back from Steve and started tickling you as he peppered kisses on your cheek.  “It’s your fault.”

“Stop it!”  You squealed and tried to push him away.

He pulled you into a tight hug.  “I knew asking you was a good idea.”

“You excited?”  You asked playfully.

“Mm, I’ll show you how much if you like?”  He purred.

You shoved him away laughing.  “Eat your moo shu.”  You said and grabbed a dumpling.  “Expect tracker and sex therapist.  Who would have thought?”

“You going to start charging us?”  Steve asked.

You pretended to think about it for a moment.  “Mmm… Don’t think you could afford me.”

“I dunno,” Bucky teased.  “I have some spare change in my pocket.”

“Bucky!”  You yelped and whacked him as he laughed loudly.

The three of you finished eating and tidied up before heading into the bedroom.  Steve took off his shirt and sat on the bed.  You moved to him and began to wind the red ribbon from his wrists and up his forearms to his elbows.

“Did Bucky tell you what I wanted to do today?”  You asked, a slight growl to your voice.

Steve looked up at you and shook his head.

“You’re going to be a really good boy, and fuck me while Bucky fucks you.”  You said.  “Aren’t you?”

He swallowed as he looked up at you.  “Yes, ma’am.”

You finished tying of the ribbon and ran your hands up his arms, following the rises and falls of his thick muscles, and then down his broad muscular chest.  “Such a good boy.  Isn’t he, Buck?”

“He sure is.”  Bucky agreed, caressing Steve’s jaw and flicking his fingers through his hair.

“Thank you,” Steve said.  His voice came out slightly choked and a little needy.   Though there was a slight hesitation like he wasn’t sure how he felt about things either.

“Steve,” you said gently.  “If you ever feel uncomfortable, just say so.  This is for you.”

He nodded.  “Yes, ma’am.  I’ll be good.”

You smiled and stood back.  “Strip.”

While Steve hastily took off his clothes you and Bucky removed each other’s.  He pulled you close and kissed you deeply as he unhooked your bra and slid it down your arms.  When Steve was completely naked, he sat down and watched the two of you take your time with each other.  When you were both naked, you looked over at Steve.

He was rock hard, but sitting patiently on the edge of the bed.  “Looks like Steve likes to watch.”  You said.

“You want to watch us, Steve?”  Bucky asked.

“Please,” Steve groaned.

Bucky turned you and pushed you back on the sofa chair.  He kneeled in front of you and pushed your legs apart.  The heat from his flesh hand stood in contrast to the cool of the metal one.  He lapped wide up your cunt, sending a faint shiver up your spine.  You kept your eyes locked on Steve’s.  The usual pale blue was blown out with lust and his tongue flicked out and ran over his plump lips.

Bucky focused his tongue on your clit, swirling it in tight circles, pressing hard and then backing off so it was barely a feather touch.  You groaned and started to rut your hips against his face.  Bucky started to suck on your pussy like a hungry man.  His tongue swirled around and he pulled your clit into his mouth.  Your legs trembled and your toes curled as an electric charge seemed to pass through you to your extremities.  He held your legs open and braced his forearm against your thigh.  His fingers pushed inside of you and he started to fuck you hard and fast with them as he sucked on your clit.

You cried out, still keeping your eyes locked onto Steve.  Steve’s hands tightened on the side of the bed.  His knuckles turned white and the fabric gave under his grip as he punctured holes in the mattress.  Your cunt began to spasm around Bucky’s fingers and your muscles clenched as you got closer to your release.

Bucky doubled down, sucking hard at your clit as his fingers hit your g-spot over and over.  With a sudden cry, you broke eye contact with Steve, throwing your head back and coming on Bucky’s face. 

Bucky groaned and ran his tongue up your cunt one last time before pulling his fingers away and getting up.  He offered you his hand and you took it and let him help you to your feet.

“Did you break our mattress, Steve?”  Bucky asked as the two of you approached him.

“Sorry,” he said, releasing his grip. “Sorry, Buck.”

Bucky tensed a little and you took his hand and squeezed it as you caressed Steve’s jaw.  “You can make it up to him now.  Can’t you?”

Steve nodded.  “Yes.  I want to make you feel good.”

You went over to the bedside table and got a condom and the lube as Bucky straddled Steve’s lap and the two of them began to kiss.  Steve kept his hands at his sides, but Bucky’s ran up Steve’s back and into the blond’s hair.  When you returned to them, Bucky pulled back slowly, tugging on Steve’s bottom lip with his teeth.  He climbed off Steve’s lap and you switched places with him.

“You’re so hard, Steve,” you purred as you stroked his cock.  “You ready for us?”

“Yes,” he groaned.  “I want it.”

You pushed him back on the mattress and rolled the condom on. You rocked against his cock, grinding down against it.  He groaned and moved his hands on your hips, flexing his fingers on your skin.

“I don’t think so, Steve.”  You said, guiding his hands up over his head.

There was a stretch at your entrance as you lowered yourself down on his cock, but you didn’t allow yourself time to adjust before you began to move.

Up and down, up and down, you bounced on his cock.  Steve strained against you, flexing his muscles in his arms so the ribbon dug into his flesh.  Yet, despite the fact he could easily pull away from you, he kept his hands up and allowed you to hold him there.  Bucky moved behind you pushing you down against Steve’s firm chest.  He lifted Steve’s legs up so they pushed up on either side of you and squeezed the lube on Steve’s ass.

With a hard snap of his hips, Bucky thrust into Steve pushing up against you.

“Fuck!”  Steve gasped, bucking up into you.

“Language in front of the lady, Steve.” Bucky teased.

Steve groaned and thrust up into you.  “She’s no lady.”

You chuckled and moved with them. Your hands slid down Steve’s arms and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.  You could feel how much this was affecting Steve.  His muscles all clenched and spasmed under you and his legs trembled at your sides.  His reactions heightened your own.  You moved between them as Bucky fucked Steve behind you, his body slapping against yours.

“Fuck.  Oh god, I’m close,” you moaned.

“Right there with you,” Steve grunted through gritted teeth.

Bucky picked up his pace, thrusting hard into you.  You slid your hand between you and Steve, fingering your clit.  Your body shuddered and jerked between them as your orgasm crashed over you.  As your walls clenched, milking Steve, his hips snapped up as he released.

“Fuck…” he groaned and buried his face in your neck.

Behind you, Bucky kept thrusting into Steve.  There was smooth metal and rough skin against you as his hands slid down your spine.  Steve groaned and shuddered under you.  “Oh god, Buck,” he mewled.

“Just … a… little… more…” Bucky panted and thrust hard and deep into Steve’s ass as he came.

The three of you just stayed like that for a moment.  Connected and spent.  Bucky pulled out first and flopped down onto the bed beside you both as you slithered off from on top of Steve.

Steve rolled over and grinned.  “That was good.  What about you?  You okay?”  He babbled excitedly, running high on the endorphin rush.

Bucky smiled softly and took Steve’s hand.  “Yeah.  I liked it too.”

You smiled to yourself between them, feeling pretty damn smug about it.

// NEXT

[mypassionfortrash]

KICKS (part five)

After you and Roger nail down his limits, you finally set a date for your first kinky playdate. And, more importantly, you open him up to brand new sensations!

WARNINGS: Strong D/s themes; restraints, edging, overstimulation, facesitting and anal.  STRICTLY 18+. NOTES: Still going strong with this one! Thank you so much for all the kind words and amazing feedback on the first few parts. This chapter’s really long (over 6,000 words) so please brace yourselves! AND PLEASE, IF YOU LIKED THIS, SHARE IT!

CATCH UP: Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four

Tags: @jennyggggrrr​ @sarahgurl09​ @scorpiogemini @johnricharddeacy​​ @brianssixpence​​ @hellohellothere12 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @internationalkpoplova @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @six-bloodyminutes @hannafuckingsucks​ @dancingcoolcat​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @theedwardscollection​ @inthelapofrogertaylor​ @lnnuend0​ @just-my-sickly-pride​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @johndeaconshands​ @loveandbeloved29​ @toreyyyyyy 

“Scat? Like… Jazz singing?” Roger’s eyebrows hiked up. “Definite hard limit.”

“You poor thing,” you muttered, wrestling with a scantily clad mannequin.

Roger looked up at you from behind the cash desk. He shrugged. “Well, what does it mean, then?”

“It means shit.”

He scowled, sticking out his tongue. “People get off on that? Having people… shit on them? Fuck that!”

You shrugged and fastened the clasp on the harness bra you had dressed Melanie the Mannequin in. Then you assessed her hard plastic, but still very naked, rack. “Yep. People definitely get off on it,” you said, reaching for a roll of black bondage tape. Melanie didn’t have nipples, but she still looked far too nude to be front and centre in the shop window, so you bit off small strips of tape and stuck two ‘x’ shapes across her breasts. That might keep the locals quiet, you hoped.

“Definite hard limit,” he hummed, checking the box next to ‘scat’ in the book. “Ok, so watersports?”

When Melanie was safely back on display, you turned around to find Roger nodding as he continued to study the book of kinks.

“I love watersports,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean what you think it does either, Roger. And I’m not going to wee on you.”

“Wee on me?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes. “Oh! Oh, fuck, no! Limit limit limit!”

Perching up on the opposite side of the cash desk, you grabbed the book. “Alright, so we’ve got blood, needles, breath play, scat and watersports as hard limits. I’m going to add vomit to this as well because I’m assuming you’re not into that?” you began, glancing up at Roger.

He gave a swift nod in response.

“And feet, hair removal, enemas and blindfolds as soft limits. Why the blindfolds?”

“Betsy.”

“That’s fair.”

“And you want to try orgasm denial, overstimulation, chastity, restraints, spanking, queening – for obvious reasons – as well as pegging with a question mark and… humiliation.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what pegging is,” Roger said. He knew. The peachy-pink flush that flashed over his jaw and up to his ears gave him away.

“Remember Big Red?” you asked, nodding towards the display on which Big Red lived.

His voice grew smaller as the redness seeped to his cheeks and down to his chest. “Yeah?”

“And how you said you didn’t want anything in your bum? Ever?”

Roger nodded and rubbed his palms together.

“Well, pegging is when your partner puts things up your bum.”

His teeth sank into his lower lip and tugged. “That… that sounds interesting.”

“Still want to try it?”

Roger swallowed hard. Then he nodded.

“And you know what queening is?”

“Not really, but it sounded fun,” he said enthusiastically. Then he leaned forward, furrowing his brow. “What is it?”

“It’s when I sit on your face and you…” you trailed off, flicking your tongue through your fingers.

“Oh, wow! Sign me up!”

“Let’s do that as a reward for you,” you reasoned. “And you remember all of my rules?”

Roger recited your list like a well-prepared boy scout, looking pleased with himself. “No kissing. No touching unless you ask. No penetrative sex.”

“Good.”

“I… I was also reading in the book that some people like pet names – titles – when they’re… you know.”

You laughed and looked down at your hands. They were clasped together on the desk in front of you. “You usually get around to that once you know you’re going to be playing with someone on a regular basis. Why?”

Roger shrugged and smiled sweetly. “I don’t know. I’m just curious what you’d call me.”

“I’ll have to think about that one. See what you’re like when you’re needy and begging,” you purred.

“I can’t wait,” he sighed. “When do you want to… you know?”

Your insides contracted at the thought. ‘It’s too soon,’ your brain screamed. ‘He’s not ready. You’re not ready!’ But the burn between your thighs told you otherwise. Your heart did too, fluttering inside your ribs like a caged animal dying to be set free. “Tomorrow night sound ok?” you blurted.

Roger’s eyes brightened, lighting up even in the corner of the dingy little shop he found himself visiting. “That sounds great.” He went quiet for a moment, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “What will I wear?”

“Well, you’ll be naked for most of it. It won’t matter much. Wear whatever you think will be comfortable.”

“Are we going to Doxy?”

“No, it’s probably better to start off at either your place or mine,” you explained. “Just in case things take a bad turn and you drop really badly.”

“Drop?”

“Sub drop, sorry. Sometimes if you’ve had quite an intense session, you might feel a bit sad or depressed. So it’s always a good idea to be somewhere where you can have some food, a nap, a bath, hugs. Whatever you need to get yourself feeling a bit better.”

“That makes sense,” Roger said. “I can come to you if you want?”

“Perfect. Just make sure you don’t drive to mine. I’d get a taxi there and back, but if you’re feeling shaky afterwards, you can stay the night. I have a spare room.”

“What time?”

“Eight sound alright?”

“It’s a date.”

Nerves paralysed you all day as you waited for eight o’clock to roll around – and for your playdate with Roger. 

You toyed with the idea of cancelling. 

You poked at the thought of feigning food poisoning or the sniffles. 

And briefly entertained the notion, after spending two hours in the bath, of staying in your pyjamas for the whole session – why make the effort if you weren’t going to have sex?

But one phone call to Andie was enough to coax you into the right headspace. As much as you hated her for it.

“But I just don’t feel sexy!” you whined, rifling through your lingerie drawer. “I barely know him.”

“Well, you’ve got enough in that bloody wardrobe of yours to make yourself look sexy, don’t you? Fake it ’til you make it,” she said bluntly. “And besides, maybe this is what you need.”

“What?”

“A very attractive man that clearly wants you but can’t have you. Might do wonders for your confidence.”

You huffed, pulling out a bralette and a pair of silk french knickers.

“He’s a dish. And if you want, I’d be more than happy to take him off your hands.”

“Not necessary,” you said, shuffling out of your bathrobe. “I think I can manage.”

Andie perked up. “So what’s on the cards for tonight, then?”

Using one hand to put your knickers on was a bad idea, so you stuck the phone receiver in the crook of your neck. “What was that?”

“What are you going to do to poor princess Roger?”

“I reckon I’m gonna…” you paused, slipping on your bralette. “I think I’ll start slow. Maybe with a massage or something and work my way up.” Imagining what he’d sound like when he begged slapped a smile on to your face. “I think I’ll edge him until he’s absolutely desperate to get off and then…”

“And then what?” Andie purred.

“I’m going to let him. Over and over. And if he whines, I’ll ask him if he’d rather be belted.”

“You big softie! He’s already turned you to mush.”

“I don’t want to scare him off! And besides, I don’t want to hurt him. I think he’s still a bit hung up on what his ex did to him.”

“Listen to me, you’re going to be just fine. He’s definitely comfortable around you, and that’s the hardest part.”

“Thanks, Andie.”

“And I want details tomorrow morning!”

“I’ll call you first thing. Promise.”

“Alright, darling, I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

Perched on the end of your bed in your underwear, you assessed your reflection in the mirror just in case you had forgotten even the slightest small detail. Your hair was perfectly styled. Your make up was pristine. But you still lacked something. You just couldn’t put your finger on what.

Then the panic came back.

You had made such a big deal about separating all of this from feelings and sex and relationships, and now you found yourself worrying about what Roger might make of your appearance as if you merely existed to appeal to him. A simmering, self-directed rage got the better of you and forced you out of your bedroom in search of another unconstructive way to channel your nerves. 

You found that in your drinks cupboard inside a bottle of vodka. Half measures weren’t something you did. You took the bottle and a glass back to your room, pouring yourself more than you needed as you walked. Only then did it strike you how much your hands shook. And what was missing.

At the end of your hall, a pair of stockings lay stretched across the rungs of your clothes horse with the rest of your laundry. Sinking the entire glass of vodka, a tiny lightbulb pinged to life above your head as you downed the last drop. 

That’s what was missing. 

The caress of nylon on your legs never failed to make you feel like nothing short of a goddess.

You scurried back into your bedroom on unsteady legs and tugged open your lingerie drawer again. Then you plucked out another pair of stockings and a garter belt. You shuffled out of your knickers and slipped on the newest additions to your outfit.

Much better.

You weren’t sure whether your newfound serenity was down to a simple pair of nylons or the triple vodka working its magic, but you felt ready to put Roger through his paces.

Until your brain interjected. Rude.

Were you going to play with him in your bedroom or the spare room?

You huffed, balling up your fists and resting them on your hips. Weighing up the pros and cons of both your options. 

Play here and you wouldn’t have to waste time moving anything into the spare room. 

Play there and you wouldn’t run the risk of having a sleepy Roger in your bed. After all, he was almost a stranger, and you most certainly did not have feelings for him.

You definitely didn’t like him in that way.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself, yanking open your drawer full of kinks. You knew exactly what you were looking for and quickly bundled the accessories into your arms, piling them high until you couldn’t carry any more. And then, you wandered through to the spare room.

You thanked your lucky stars that the bed was perpetually made, usually for drunk friends or when your parents came to visit. The idea of torturing one of the most sought after rockstars in the same bed that your parents occasionally slept in made you shudder. And it just wouldn’t leave your head.

Until the door buzzer pierced through your flat.

“Fuck.”

His voice was so bright when it sounded over the line: “Hi, it’s Roger!

“Come on up.”

As soon as you put the receiver down, you hurried back into the spare room to lay out everything you needed within reach. Your hands went back to trembling and your heart went back to racing. You could hear the rush of blood in your ears above the sound of yourself listing your accoutrements aloud. “Cuffs. Paddle. Lube. Oil.” 

Before you knew it, Roger was at your door, giving it three sharp knocks that forced your soul from your body for a few seconds. You almost didn’t make it to the hall. Apprehension stiffened all the muscles in your legs. Even cracking the door open was a chore.

But all of that subsided when you saw Roger pacing in the landing. The first thing you noticed was how his hands clung to the collar of his coat in a white-knuckled grasp. And then the coy smile on his lips when he spoke. The way he stopped dead, but couldn’t look you in the eye. “You look nice.”

It took every ounce of restraint you had not to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl. Instead, you smiled back and stepped aside. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”

For a split second, a bolt of electricity surged through you. The fleeting graze of his coat against your arm. The heady scent of his aftershave. How he ruffled his soft blonde hair as he stood idly and awkwardly in your hall.

All you could manage was a feeble, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not going to lie, I might have had a shot of whisky before I came here.”

“I’m not going to lie, there’s a bottle of vodka sitting on my bedside table,” you laughed. “You’re still sober enough to go through with this, aren’t you?”

“It was just a shot,” Roger said, “don’t worry.”

“Ok,” you nodded. Without saying another word, you wandered over to Roger and unfastened the buttons on his coat. 

His breathing hitched when you edged the heavy fabric down his arms, but he still couldn’t make eye contact with you. “Won’t be needing that,” he chuckled.

That dark-lashed gaze of yours went straight to his gut. “You won’t be needing any of it.”

“Right, yeah,” he said. “Will I… you know… take it all off?”

You arched an eyebrow, “Come through to the spare room first.” Grasping Roger’s hand, you led him through. As soon as he clapped eyes on everything laid out on the bed, his grip tightened. You turned to him to find his eyes widening. “You like the look of this?”

He gulped. Then he nodded.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. I’m a bit out of practice myself. It’ll take us a bit of time to get into the swing of things.”

“Looks like you’re already in the swing of things,” he grinned. Before you could croak out a response, Roger was already undressed down to his underwear; red briefs with a growing tent in the middle.

“You look rather smug,” you said, feeling emboldened enough to drag your nails over his collarbones. “Lose the underwear.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to be quite the slavedriver?” he grinned.

You shrugged, watching him hop out of them. “Because I am?”

“Good.”

“We’re going to start off really slow, though,” you explained, leading him over to the bed and sitting down next to him on the edge. “I’ll gradually ramp it up a bit but if you need me to drop back a bit, just say: ‘yellow.’ Got it?”

“Got it.”

“And if it gets too much–”

“Red.”

“Red. Good. And please remember to use them. I want you to enjoy this.”

“I will don’t worry,” he said, looking you square in the eye. His cheeks were already flushed.

Before any second thoughts could creep back into the space between you and Roger, you rose to your feet. “And please remember not to touch me unless I ask you to.”

“I have a feeling you’re not going to give me much of a chance to,” he quipped, nodding at the cuffs beside him.

“You’re awfully lippy tonight,” you smirked.

“You make it too easy.”

“Maybe I should leave the slow start and skip to the good stuff.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Or,” you began, stepping forward, “I could make you suffer. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Roger didn’t say a word, but he did keen into your touch as your nails clawed down his neck. With one hand on his chest, you didn’t have to use much force to get him to sink backwards. “On your front,” you instructed.

He complied, folding his arms underneath his chin. His calves hung over the edge of the bed, toes wiggling in anticipation.

You bent down close to Roger’s ear. “Good boy.” The sensation of your breath on his neck made him jump, but you noticed his eyes closing and a sweet smile forming. The damage Betsy had done was still visible across his muscles; a reminder to go gentle on him. You wandered around to his other side and grabbed the bottle massage oil lying beside him. Not caring to warm it up, you drizzled some on his spine. He winced, trying to roll on to his side, but his movements weren’t quick enough. He was pinned. Under you. Straddling his hips, you found yourself in prime position to manipulate him exactly as you wished. But first, all you wanted to do was explore him – every inch of him.

The join between his neck and shoulder was a familiar spot. His own hands wandered there all the time. But, for some reason, yours felt better, kneading out knots caused by years of non-stop touring. That, along with the soothing scent of lavender on his skin, turned him to putty in your hands.

He might have fallen asleep like that, too, had it not been for you shuffling lower along his thighs, placing yourself within easy reach of the rest of his back. Using every surface of your hands in slow, agonising waves. Up and out, stretching him until he groaned, overcome with sheer bliss.

“I thought this was all about pain,” he said.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth. “As much as I’d like to smack that glorious bottom of yours, I think you probably deserve this a little bit more. How does it feel?”

“It feels amazing,” he hummed. “I’ll be a new man after this!”

Impatience almost got the better of you the lower down on Roger’s body that you moved. So much so that you had to bypass his bottom altogether to keep yourself on an even keel. As much as you were dying to see him squirm and hear him beg, the buildup was even more critical. So you slipped off the bed and focused on Roger’s legs instead. Soft yet slender in your hands, you worked more oil up his calves and settled on the backs of his knees. Your fingers moved like feathers over those sensitive spots, coaxing a strained whine from Roger as he tried to squirm away from your touch. “If you don’t lie still, I’m going to have to restrain you,” you warned.

The curves of Roger’s back quivered with a sharp intake of breath at those words. Then he relaxed again. But not for long. 

Moving up towards his thighs, you relished that unexpected softness. You weren’t massaging anymore; instead, you pressed the soft flesh, letting it pale underneath your fingertips. Roger’s thigh parted ever so slightly, granting access to the even more sensitive spots between them. His desire skyrocketed, arching his back when you clawed pink tracks up and down his skin.

“You’re getting needy, aren’t you?” you purred.

“Mmhm. Feels so good,” he said, swaying his hips.

“I bet it does.” A swift smack to Roger’s bottom had him rolling over on to his back. His cheeks were flushed and his breaths were cautious. He moved to cover his eyes with his arm but you quickly stopped him. “I want you to look at me.”

Roger’s jaw slackened but never once did his eyes leave you.

For all the effort you had put into loosening Roger up, his body tightened as you curled the fine hairs on his chest around your fingertips. Unable to even breathe, all Roger could do was lie beneath you, and watch.

And you took pleasure in observing his reaction. He adored your touch, you could see it in the way his pupils blew out every time he looked at you or the way his hips rolled up against yours. “I think I’m going to have to keep you still, Roggie,” you said, finally reaching his hips. You quietened down, lowering your voice to barely a whisper. “Would you like that?”

Roger looked like an angel – his beautiful thick eyelashes fluttered while his gaze shifted to you. The calloused pads on his fingers drummed against your stocking-clad thighs, unable to contain any patience he has left. “I think that would be a good idea,” he said with a contented smile.

“You’re smiling now, Roger. You won’t be later,” you said, removing yourself from him. Then you set about looping thick leather straps around his wrists.

His tongue poked out as he watched in awe, following every single one of your movements, binding him to the headboard. Removing all ability for him to get away from your onslaught. The delight in his smile grew when you straddled him again, just below his swollen, throbbing cock.

“Are you enjoying this?” you said, brushing your nails over his length, encouraging his hips to buck and roll into your grasp. 

Roger bit his lip and nodded, allowing himself to be carried away by the much-awaited contact.

A sharp slap to his thigh jolted him back to his senses. “Use your words.”

“Yes, I love it.”

You gave Roger a sly smirk as you reached for the bottle of lube beside him. With the bottle held high, you allowed beads of the clear liquid to drip down. The freezing cold lube colliding with his skin had him straining against the cuffs, but he soon held still. One scalding hot glance from you made sure of that. 

Apparently, he was the rebellious one in Queen, but here he was, docile and pliable. Doing anything to have his balls drained. 

He wasn’t getting his balls drained that easily. 

You used one hand, slipping his length through your grasp. “Let’s lay down some ground rules about how this is going to go, shall we?” you began, punctuating that with another pass over his cock. “You’re not getting off until I say you can. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he sighed, trying to bury the side of his face into the pillow.

You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “And you’re going to look at me the whole time.”

His voice faltered, glancing down at your hand gathering pace. “Got it.”

“If you come without my permission, you will be punished.”

Roger gulped, casting an eye over to the soft leather paddle beside him. “Will it hurt?”

“Depends on how naughty you are.”

“I promise I’ll be good,” he sighed. “Promise.”

You loomed over Roger, your noses practically touching. “And if you’re good, you’re going to get a little treat.”

“What kind of treat?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh god,” he whined just as your free hand joined the party, circling the swollen head of his cock. “I don’t think I’m gonna last long.”

“Well, you had better start begging.”

A laugh rose in Roger’s chest and he did his best a suppressing it enough to strangle out a feeble, “please.” As if that would convince you that he really did need release. 

“I think you’ve got a little bit longer in you,” you said, finding your rhythm. The slick sounds of those smooth, purposeful motions, coupled with Roger lying underneath you, his lips slightly parted as he looked up with you made the heat between your thighs grow. You really wanted him there and then. 

But this wasn’t about you. 

And Roger was fast reaching the end of his rope. 

You swore you had never seen his cheeks so red.

“Please, please please, I need to come!” he whined. “I’m so close! Oh, god, I’ll do anything.”

A dull ache throbbed in your wrists. But you were desperate to draw this out for as long as possible. It wasn’t what you planned, but it guaranteed your chance to push Roger almost to his limit. “Alright, Roggie, come for me.”

“R-really?” he stuttered.

“Come for me. Be a good boy for me.”

“Oh my god,” he grinned. His eyes closed. His hands grasped at the slats on the headboard. He was buckling up for wave after wave of pleasure to surge through him. 

Except the waves didn’t arrive.

Roger’s eyes shot open with a whine. “What the fuck?!” he squeaked. His mind was too blurry to register that you were in the middle of tugging off your underwear. 

Until your dripping wet cunt lingered just inches from his face.

“I just wasn’t convinced that you really wanted to come.”

“Well, I fucking did!” He was testing you. He had to be.

“Oh, really?” Your patience had worn thin. In one swift movement, you turned and plonked yourself down on Roger’s waiting mouth. “Well, fucking prove it. Show me how much you want it.”

Roger wasted no time allowing his tongue to explore every inch of you that his restraints allowed him to reach. He wasn’t even sure if he could get you off like this, but he’d be damned if he didn’t give it his best shot. After all, he was desperate to avoid another ruined orgasm. Ravenous, in fact; sucking and licking at your folds before turning his attention to your clit for a brief moment. And he was sure to let you know just how grateful he was to get to taste you. Every satisfied hum shot through your body, making your hips kick into motion on top of him.

“Finally a good use for that tongue of yours,” you remarked. Leaning forward, you began jacking Roger off again. “Let’s see if you deserve to come this time.”

He sighed against you. He wasn’t about to let another orgasm slip through your fingertips. He had to let you know he wanted it. Eagerly, desperately, his tongue swirled over your clit, gathering its own feverish pace.

Now you started to realise what all the fuss over Roger was about. You had never heard him be so quiet since you met him, and for good reason. He was an expert with his tongue both in an out of the bedroom. 

But you were so fixated on that intoxicating feeling that you neglected your own duties. You looked down to find that your hand was no longer moving along his desperate looking shaft; just idly palming at it. He wasn’t going anywhere with that action.

So you made a conscious effort. Fighting against Roger, you got to work to bring him right to the brink of release. To the point where his moans made you squirm, and the muscles in his thighs tightened again. “Do you want to come for me, Roggie?” you moaned, grinding your cunt against his mouth.

He couldn’t speak. Of course he couldn’t. But that didn’t stop him trying to whine an almost convincing ‘please’ between circling your clit with precision.

“Come on, Roggie, come for me. Come for me,” you urged, grinding your hips with more urgency. 

Just when you were about to allow it, Roger’s attempts at pleasing you stilled. 

Just when he was about to get off, you let go. 

You leaned back and rode Roger’s face. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” you scolded. “Keep going,” you urged. 

Begrudgingly, Roger’s tongue darted over your clit again with the same steady pace in just enough time to stop you from coming down completely. But he made his impatience obvious, angling his hips to lure your attention back to his cock. 

You weren’t going to bow to the pressure right away. 

Why should you? 

When he was this keen to please you, you were hellbent on letting him. 

The sea of pleasure inside you raged. Keeping your balance fast became a chore. You gripped the headboard behind you for dear life, drawing your weight backwards. “God, you’re so good, Roger,” you gasped. “That fucking mouth!” 

Roger moaned against you as you rode his face. He relished this as much as you did. He found himself absolutely addicted to your scent and the sounds you made. The way you moved. 

Hunching over, you gripped Roger’s thighs as your own stiffened on either side of his face. Immobilised by the most intense, soaring bliss you had ever experienced, you were certain you were going to see stars after this. It felt like your body had shut down as it welcomed the electricity that pulsed through you.

Coming down, you were met by the sound of Roger trying to urge you off of him. You didn’t even know how long you had been out for. And here he was just dying to get off. 

How selfish of you to neglect your new little plaything. 

Sitting up straight, still straddling Roger’s face, you inhaled a deep breath in an attempt to gather your composure. Every muscle in your body felt like liquid as you moved, turning yourself around to get a good look at him. 

He looked pleased with himself. His sickeningly pretty features were scarlet and glistened with sweat and arousal and all you wanted to do was kiss him. Just a little taste.

But you couldn’t. Feelings were out of the question.

“I think you really deserve to come, Roger, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he sighed with a soft expression.

“I think you deserve a really, really big reward for being such a good boy,” you teased, swiping your thumb along his lower lip. 

“I do. Thank you.”

Your free hand crept down to Roger’s cock again. Still hard and throbbing. “And you know that I only want to make you feel really really good?” No holds barred.

“Mmmhm.”

“Good boy,” you praised. 

Even hearing that made Roger’s muscles twitch. “You’re not gonna do that to me again, are you?” he asked, squeezing his eyes shut. Bracing himself for disappointment.

“No, darling,” you soothed, “you can come as much as you like now. Any time you like.”

Roger must have sensed the change in your tone when you spoke, because as soon as you gave him permission, his whole body shook and the only words he could manage was a strangled, “thank you!”

He came down quickly; most men did. But what struck him when the fog in his head cleared was that you weren’t done with him just yet – even though he had to crane his neck to see you at the foot of the bed with your tongue gliding over the shaft of his cock.

“Oh fuck,” he sighed, throwing his head back.

“You didn’t think it’d be over that soon, did you? That would’ve been disappointing.”

“No! Just… just be careful!”

You couldn’t resist. You had to make him suffer even just a tiny bit. So, with a devilish smirk, you swirled an excruciatingly slow lap around the tip of his cock, savouring the last drops of cum that glazed it. 

Roger hissed, but his hips told a different story – bucking wildly in time to your efforts. Pressing his cock into your mouth. “Fuck,” he cursed again. 

With one hand, along with your mouth, you settled into another determined rhythm. Your hand worked his shaft, while your tongue tackled just the tip. Roger had surpassed the initial pain and was back to gazing down at you in awe. His teeth clenched together. His wrists tugging at their binds. But the sheer girth of his cock meant that it was only a matter of minutes before a dull ache seeped into your jaw if you so much as attempted to take any more of him in your mouth. 

And it would take longer this time around for him to come. 

Then you spied the bottle of lube nestled against Roger’s hip. The jewel in the crown of your new master plan.

Roger’s cock left your mouth with a pop, just long enough to check in with him before you proceeded. After all, his legs were still wild and free; you didn’t want to risk being kicked in the face. Some men didn’t take well to what you were about to do. “Do you trust me?” you asked, gazing up at him with wild eyes.

“Not gonna lie,” he puffed, “after all of this, I’m starting to have trust issues.” The broad smile he shot you told you he was joking.

You reached for the lube with your free hand and kept your sights trained on him. “I need to hear you say it though. I can’t make you feel really really good if I don’t think your heart’s in it.” He couldn’t see what you were doing, but he did strain to see what the suspicious click was when you opened the bottle and squeezed some lube on to your fingertips. 

“I trust you.”

“Good,” you said, bringing your lips down on to the head of his cock again. Concealing what your free hand was preparing to do. 

When Roger was safely duped into believing that your intentions were genuinely pure, you pressed a finger to his backdoor, massaging his tight, sensitive ring. At the same time, your tongue continued to flutter over the head of his cock. The new sensation had him mewling in delight. You never expected that reaction from him. Even the way he rolled his hips for leverage against your finger. Slowly you eased it inside him, right up to the knuckle. Then you curled it in on itself, seeking out his sweet spot.

“Fuck,” he purred. 

“Feel good?” you asked.

“Better than I thought, god.”

You slipped a second finger inside him, applying just the right amount of pressure for his breathing to labour. Now was the time to take things up a notch. To put on a show for him. Taking as much of Roger’s cock as you could in your mouth, you made a point of making as much noise and as much mess as you could. Your spit made his cock glisten and pass through your lips just that little bit easier. Sometimes it overshot and caught the back of your throat. He seemed to love it when your mascara started to run. 

“I-I think I’m gonna come again,” he groaned. He was beginning to tense up again; everywhere, including around your fingers.

You gave a pleased moan in response, not wanting to let up too soon. 

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna–“

That orgasm had already rolled into another, not allowing Roger any letup. Your hand and your mouth were missing from his cock, but your fingers still pressed up against that one magic spot inside him. His legs continued to spasm alongside your efforts. 

“Got another one in the tank for me?” you grinned.

“I think so,” he gasped.

“I’m gonna take these cuffs off you, Roggie,” you said, scrambling to your knees, fingers still working towards one final explosion of pleasure. “You ready?”

He nodded profusely. “Please.”

With one hand still preoccupied inside Roger, you stretched over him. You swore you felt the tip of his nose caress your chest. Your other hand unbuckled each cuff around his wrists, and, with him being the obedient little submissive he was showing himself to be, his hands didn’t go straight to your waist or your thighs. Instead, they draped delicately above his head with his elegant hands clenching into bony fists.

You stroked his matted, sweat-soaked hair. “One more, darling,” you soothed.

Roger nodded. “One more.”

“Touch yourself for me,” you said, moving backwards to get a better view. 

Roger groaned as his fingers tentatively wrapped around his semi-hard cock.

“That’s it. You look so pretty like this.”

“Fuck,” he whined. The fingers on his other hand raked through his hair, tugging at the roots to get a handle on the stinging sensitivity between his thighs. 

“You can go a little bit faster for me, can’t you?”

“Yes.” He could, but he had to force it. He gritted his teeth and moved his hand quicker, with more purpose. In the back of his mind, he was sure his cock would never work again after this. Certain he never wanted to come again. And he definitely didn’t have enough energy left inside him to coax out another orgasm. But he still wanted to hear you praise him, to tell him how good he looked, jacking himself off right there in front of you. His whole body trembled, and his skin was saturated with sweat. 

“You’re so beautiful Roggie.”

His hand moved a little bit faster. “Thank you.”

Your free hand trailed up his chest towards his neck. “You love coming for me, don’t you?”

Faster still. “Yes.”

You gave it a slight squeeze. Enough to quieten his moans for a moment. “And you love having that gorgeous arse of yours fucked while you do it?”

Even faster, ’til he could barely get the words out. “Mmm, I love it.”

You leaned in close to Roger’s ear. “Next time we do this,” you began, “it won’t be my fingers. I’m not going to go easy on you, Roggie. I’m going to put that tight little arse of yours through its paces and really make you squeal.”

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[dabisrightnipple]

HYGGE

Tooru Oikawa x Reader

!!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST AND/OR ADD ONTO!!

TW: sh

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hyg·ge /ˈh(y)o͞oɡə,ˈho͝oɡə/ noun a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture).

a/n: Make sure to support my other platforms and leave requests in my google forum!!! I ALSO JUST RE-DOWNLOADED TUMBLR AFTER 5+ YEARS AND OMFG THIS IS ADORABLE

The red blood slowly oozed down your shaking legs onto the previously white tiles. You looked into the mirror at the marks you had just etched onto your already scar-ridden thighs, regret instantly pooling at your stomach. Looking into the mirror more, you analyzed your now, red puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks as you slowly backed up to the white-colored walls and slid down onto the floor to give your worn-out shaken legs a break.

The pain was overtaking your body as you squeezed your eyes as tight as you could to try and ease the pain in some way, which didn't work as you hoped it would. Slowly, you came to your senses as you looked around the bathroom, seeing all the blood on the counters and discarded tissues and towels made you shiver as you thought about what would happen if he saw.

well speak of the devil... you thought as you recognized his footsteps down the hallway of the apartment complex.

You shot up and began to frantically clean up the bathroom while mumbling incoherent curses to yourself. You began by throwing all the towels and tissues into the bathtub, making a mental note to secretly wash them tonight once he falls asleep. You then proceeded to grab your razor and throw it in your long-forgotten Better Than Sex eyeshadow palette and hide it in the back of your drawer.

Then you heard it…

It was him.

Eventually, you heard the door push open causing you to go into a panic throwing stuff around in the cabinets trying to find your pack of band-aids for occasions like this.

His footsteps became louder and louder as you continued to fumble around and panic

Silence

"Y/n?" ...shit you thought to yourself as you realized there was no getting out of this.

"uhh.. yes? Do you need something?" you replied coyly

"Open up please..." He said in a melancholy voice, scared he knows what he's gonna see when you open the door.

"Okay, One second, lemme finish peeing." You replied in a hushed tone as you swiftly tried to open and put the band-aids over your cuts as quietly as possible.

"I know what you're doing Y/n, Please stop and let me in. I won't get mad I promise."

"I- yea...Plea-please don't be mad, I'm sorry I-I just-"

"I'm not mad sweetie, I just wanna make sure you're ok so I can fix you all up," Oikawa reassured with the most soothing voice he could muster.

You slowly unlocked the door handle, relishing the last few milliseconds you had before the guilt came flushing in. Not even a second after your hand left the door handle Oikawa thrust it open, careful not to hit you as he engulfed you with the most calming and welcoming hug he could give. Being careful to not hit any cuts, he maneuvered you onto his lap while leaning against the wall cradling you in his chest.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just saw the razor and it kinda- kinda happened and I-I just couldn’t stop-” you choked out trying to keep your sobs to a minimum not wanting to hurt him anymore.

"Shhhh, Princess everything's gonna be ok, I forgive you I just hate seeing you like this. I understand this helps you feel better but trust me, princess, there are so many other great things that can take the pain away." Oikawa whispered in your ear, peppering kisses all around your ears, neck, and cheeks and finally a longer sweet kiss on your lips.

“Let's get you cleaned up, m’k! Then we can watch Area 51 and I'll make whatever you want. Deal?”

“Deal,” you whispered as your smile grew, slowly forgetting about the strenuous mental breakdown you were just experiencing moments ago.

Oikawa slowly got up, once again being cautious as to not touch any injured spots. He set you on a clean area on the counter before grabbing out the supplies he had purchased in the past for this particular situation. As Oikawa prepped the gauges and ointments you glanced over in shame, staring at the bloody tissues you failed to pick up previously as you self-reflected on your mental state and what caused you to get into this situation again. You were finally pulled out of your little world when you jolted after feeling a sharp stinging pain on your thigh. Oikawa gave you his hand to squeeze to help subside the pain.

"I'm sorry beauty I know this hurts, I just don't want it to get infected. Please let me put a little more on?" You nodded and sucked in through your teeth as you received another wave of pain while grabbing onto Oikawa's hand.

"You're doing so good princess, just a little longer."

Although you appreciated the praise you had just received from him you couldn't help but get lost in his features. you admired his deep brown locks and how they complimented his equally dark chocolate eyes, which were hyper-fixated on trying to doctor up the cuts littering your upper thighs.

Even though the wounds did hurt you, you would've gladly loved it if this day could last forever. Oikawa had always done a great deed when it came to spoiling you and treating you quite literally like a 'princess' as per his nickname. Today was different though, He's being softer, and as much as you loved his dominant side, his soft side was awfully refreshing.

"Hey, Tooru?"

"Yea?"

"I love you." Oikawa looked a bit taken back with the random use of such strong words but quickly replaced his astoundment with confidence.

"Are you sure about that Y/n~channn? Because I think I love you more~" He purred as you rolled your eyes, a smile igniting on your face while you ruffled his hair.

---------

Once Oikawa was done bandaging your cuts, he insisted on giving you a much-needed bath which definetly was something else...

"Mmmm" you moaned out as Oikawa was lathering shampoo into your h/c locks, moving his fingers around in circular motions, trying to release as much stress and tension as he could. Once he was done he hopped over to the little makeup mirror and held it up to your face revealing bunny ears on top of your head held together by the shampoo.

"Mmmm my little bunny princess~ how do you like your new ears?"

"They're lovely! I love what you did with this one Tooru." you said pointing to the left 'bunny ear' that was now deforming.

"oh shut up Y/n~chan as if you could do any better," Oikawa said as he folded his arms and looked away.

"Oh but I can," you said making a devious face.

"You wouldn't!"

"I WOULD BAHAHA!" You snorted as you smacked the bunny ears downwards, causing them both to deform.

"NOOOO Y/N~CHANNN HOW COULD YOU. MY LITTLE BUNNY PRINCESS~" he wailed as he started to wash out the shampoo as you were still laughing your ass off in the tub.

After repeating the same steps with the conditioner and about 30 minutes of you and Oikawa arguing about soapy titty pictures being better than soapy ab pictures. Oikawa finally unclogged the drain allowing you to get out while he dried you off using your favorite fluffy towel he bought for you a while back on your birthday when he turned your living room into a spa. Once you were fully dried Oikawa bundled you up into a burrito and carried you back to your guys' shared room and lightly tossed you on the California king bed as he started walking to your shared closet.

"Sit here and stay pretty for me while I get you some sexy clothes~." Oikawa purred as he entered the closet, pulling out a cream hoodie and digging through his underwear drawer to reveal old alien boxers. He loved seeing you in his clothes, especially the alien boxers that seemed to compliment your butt perfectly.

When he came back he easily slipped the cream-colored hoodie over your head and put on the boxers for you as well, making sure you didn't move a muscle. He felt the need to spoil the hell out of you tonight, especially because he believes it's his fault for not being home early enough.

If only I came home sooner...

He thought as he adjusted the boxers and stared longingly into your eyes with regret.

If only I declined Iwaizumis’ request to get food. This would have never happened...

Slowly, he got back up and leisurely walked back into the closet to change, after all, he was still in his sweaty volleyball uniform that was a bit damp from your wet hair sticking to him when he previously carried you.

He changed into an old ICS volleyball hoodie and grey sweats. He walked over to where you were on the bed ogling him as he smirked lightly before picking you up once again, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. Being careful as to not touch any tender areas, while putting a hand under your bottom and taking long, slow strides to the living room. Setting you down with the same care, Oikawa grabbed the remote and put on Area 51 which was previously recorded from the last movie night you two shared.

"Here princess, sit tight while I get blankets and food." He muttered while walking to the kitchen.

"oh I wanna get the blankets!" you said deviously while scheming to take the best ones for yourself. But before you could even put a toe on the floor strong arms pinned you back down.

You slowly looked up only to be met with Oikawa's stern chocolate brown eyes.

"What?"

"No Princess, just stay here. I'll get the fluffy one and you can have it all to yourself." He reassured knowing exactly what was going through your head.

"But-"

"No buts, please Y/n I don't want you walking around right now." His previous loving look turned into a gloomy gaze as he looked down. Eyes meeting with the numerous white patches that littered your legs.

"Hey" you put your hand on his cheek caressing it while pulling it up to meet your now bittersweet gaze.

"I'm fine," you said as you got up only to be met with sharp pains shooting through your legs and up your spine.

"...see" You reassured, trying your best to mask your face from showing any pain.

"No" Oikawa stated sternly as he laid you down once again onto the couch.

"Please Y/n?"

"..." You gave him the silent treatment, looking away pretending to be hurt. Little did he know you were enjoying this so much. Soaking in each and every one of his sweet words, though they came off a bit harsh, he only wanted the best for you.

Damn, I'm really being spoiled... You thought as a shiver went up to your spine.

--------

The sweet aroma of popcorn and other snacks filled your senses as you looked over to see your very sexy boyfriend struggling to carry all the blankets, pillows, and food.

"Tooru! here lemme help-"

"Sit princess, I got it." He chuckled while tossing the blankets over your head and setting down the sweets on the counter, dashing back to the kitchen to grab the two monsters he purchased with Iwaizumi.

After struggling to get the blanket off, a strong hand came out and grabbed the blanket and pulled it over your head.

"Here silly," Oikawa said as your eyes met with the caffeinated drink.

"YOU DIDN'T!"

"oh, but I did." Oikawa purred with the sexiest but stupidest smile.

Your eyes glistened as you popped the tab in, drinking almost half of it in a swig.

"Sweetie, chilllll~ your gonna be up all night if you drink it that fast." He hummed, popping his open and taking a sip as well before setting both monsters onto the coffee table.

You shifted around a bit trying to get comfy in your blanket before Oikawa pulled you on top of him while grabbing the remote and pressing play. There you were, head laying on Oikawa's chest, hands wrapped around his neck. His hands were placed onto your waist fitting perfectly in the divet of your lower back. Legs intertwining with each other.

This truly was heaven.

----------

"I love you, Princess."

Oikawa muttered, lazily stroking your head. He looked at your resting body tenderly, thinking about all the little quirks he loves about you. In that very moment the world seemed to stop as the sound of the end credits became drowned out as sleep overtook you both.

[yandere-daydreams]

I give you 1 (one) coupon to go absolutely buck wild and write the most self indulgent thing you can think of. this is still a request so you'll be working on them while you write what you want!

This may not be very self-indulgent, but I’ve had something like this swirling around in my mind for a while, now. Maybe I should save a coupon like this, but we all know my self-control isn’t that strong.

TW: Stockholm Syndrome, Mentions of Isolation and Food for the Tenders. 

The yard was the most beautiful thing you’d seen in months.

Shoto had been set on the idea of a new house for a while now, dead set, in fact. His apartment was nice, and it’d worked for the two of you, but a proper house was what he’d dreamed of, somewhere outside of the city, away from neighbors and big, without the suffocating walls and cramped spaces of your prior-home. He’d been considerate, letting you help, if only for an excuse to hold you in his lap and talk about how homey this one was, or the cozy master-bedroom the two of you could share in that little cottage on the outskirts.

But, you’d tolerated his lingering touches, brushing off every time you caught him scrolling through a list of baby-names and disregarding how loving the move had made him. You were as claustrophobic as he was, by now, to tell the truth. And if you had to spend one more day staring at the plain walls of Shoto’s bedroom…

It probably wouldn’t be very good for your relationship, to say the least.

Old habits remerging aside, the house was everything you’d dreamed of. A little isolated, sure, but the feeling of sun on your skin, of grass on your feet and wind, fucking wind, made up for your lack of neighbors, for the fact that there wasn’t another house as far as the eye could see. There’d been a window in your old room, but the bared, blurry glass didn’t do the simple sensation of being outside justice, even with chain loosely clamped around your ankle, a ‘safety measure’ Shoto had insisted on.

He was always so worried, like that. You couldn’t blame him, though, not with all the weeks you spent breaking windows and chewing through your restraints, ‘being such a little brat’, as he would say. You two laughed about it now, luckily.

You’re not sure what you would do if he decided to hold a grudge.

You felt Shoto before you saw him, the Hero slotting himself silently against your side, his body-heat (or lack thereof) a pleasant shift from the day’s oppressing heat. There was no audible greeting, only a hand on your thigh and a smile pressing against your forehead, something that could’ve been a kiss, if he wanted to try a little harder. But, you were happy to lean against him, to be with him. And he shared the sentiment, as far as you could tell.

His voice was soft, when he spoke, more of a whisper than anything. “You’ve been out here for hours, sweetheart,” He mumbled, his arm moving to your waist, encouraging you to move closer. You just rested your head on his chest, as comforted by the sound of his heartbeat as you were by the warmth on your skin. “Do you want anything to drink? I could use some help unpacking too, if you want to come inside.”

“A few more minutes,” You replied, cuddling further into him. “I didn’t spend enough time outside, before you started keeping me at home. I think I’m going to try to change that, this time.”

He laughed, his free hand making it to your jaw, tilting your head up to face him. You opened your eyes reflexively, purring as his lips brushed against yours. You were thankful for his current mood, lazy and affectionate, rather than how… passionate he’d been, when you two arrived last night. You were the one to deepen the kiss, leaning into him as he played with the idea of pulling you closer, settling on squeezing your side, instead. You pulled away giggling, flustered and blushing, but you regretted looking away from Shoto as soon as you did so.

You’d almost forgotten about the tall, metal fence wrapping around the span of your clearing, poles straight and packed so tightly together, making it impossible for you to scale it or slip through the bars. There were automatic locks on every door in the house, too, something you failed to think about until now. Most of the time, they were open, but Shoto was still the only one access to the keys. The more you thought about it, the more barriers you remembered, the more chains and handcuffs and weapons you realized were littered around your new home, placed strategically, in places Shoto knew you’d run to if you ever relapsed.

You were still trapped, and you knew that. You weren’t delusional. You hated the fact that you couldn’t leave of your own volition, that you’d be locked up inside once his vacation-time ran out, that you weren’t in charge of your own life, not really. You dreaded being left alone, you loathed your chains, you hated living like this…

Then, the sunlight hit your skin again, and Shoto chuckled, rubbing gentle circles in your cheek as he pecked at your forehead, distracting you from whatever worrying thought you must’ve been having. Of course, you smiled, melting into his chest and letting the warmth spread over your body.

You didn’t hate Shoto. You couldn't hate Shoto.

How could you ever hate the person who gave you back the sun?

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Just Plus

TITLE: Just Plus

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1. Just Angst.

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being a plus-size virgin, and Loki is your first (and only) BF. After five years of dating, both of you are ready to take things further. You’re scared to give yourself to him but really want to. You worry he will be disgusted by your rolls and stretch marks. As time goes on, he notices you wearing modest clothing and fending off his touches, like you are hiding something. One day, Loki sees you looking at yourself in the mirror. He can almost see the wheels turning and disdain in the look you give yourself. He realizes that you don’t like your body. Later, Loki all but corners you to talk about it. After a time, you vent, explaining everything. A few nights later, kisses turn to something more. Loki spends the entire night showing you just how beautiful you are.

RATING:  Explicit for sexual content.

Summary: Ever since the talk of sex you start to compair yourself to other body types and questioning why Loki wants you. Loki finds out and immediately plans to make you feel better. 

NOTES/WARNINGS: Doubts in self beauty. This is angsty in the way the plus size reader/character starts to feel about herself. 

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

*FINALLY..Read the warnings. Once you agree you can handle it...

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Ever since you agreed to take things further, Loki has been more… touchy. The mere thought of having more of yourself exposed to him both excited and terrified you. Yes, he always laid his head on your "very nice, big, soft thighs" but as he laid there now he was drawing things into your side. His other hand held literature that his voice flowed with ease over every word and read paragraphs like it was his own thoughts. You played with his hair but the touches on your side made you uncomfortable.

The crop top you adored showed skin you were comfortable with sharing. You might be on the plus side of things but you loved your body. Your body was the only one you were ever going to get and it was something to treasure and flaunt. Loki bought you clothes and that might have been embarrassing in its own way, just knowing he knew your size. Loki could literally fit your clothes but you couldn't fit his… Weren't girls supposed to wear their boyfriend's clothes? 

You stared off into the distance of the park feeling self conscious. Other people's looks never bothered you but now life seemed different since the discussions of sex. You wondered, what do they think looking at you being so big compared to the well toned god using you as a pillow. 

A group of thin girls sent a look at you then laughed among themselves… Your anxiety getting the best of you.

"Loki can we go home?"

The words ceased from the calm, soothing voice as the book was closed.

Loki looked up to you and smiled. An exciting gleam in his eyes that made your stomach turn at the thoughts swimming in his eyes. 

The squeeze on your side made you glance at the girls who probably can't hold more than fingertips of fat. The girls with short skirts with smooth legs with no cellulite. Everyone who was eating whatever the hell they wanted, no care in the world.

Loki was up and holding his hand to you.

You hesitated before letting him help you up, your high number of weight seeming to ring in your ear. He looked as if there was no effort into helping you up to your feet. He smiled once you were sturdy and placed a kiss on your cheek. 

"Are you ready then my love?"

You nodded with a smile, blushing from his affectionate attention.

"Well." Loki bent down to get the book he was reading and tucked it under his arm. "Lets go. I am starved. I actually want that meal you like. Do you think you could make that tonight for dinner?"

You glanced at him as he took your hand. "Yeah I can do that."

Loki's arm went around you and his fingers were firm on your bare skin. You did your best to not react. 

Loki gave a squeeze on your side where you knew there was a start of a fat roll. "You are beautiful." Loki pulled you closer and kissed your cheek.

You blushed again as he held your hand to place a kiss to your knuckles. Lacing his fingers with yours he started gently swing your joined hands as you walked with him. The walk home Loki talked with purs of compliments as more seemingly affectionate touches that were able to make you blush.

Loki took your jacket to hang and you went to the kitchen to prepare your favorite meal. Loki had pushed you to the counter to trap you for a series of kisses. His hands were not secretive with the usual feather light caresses but instead firmly placed hands all over your body. He left you breathless and a coil seemed to tighten slightly in your stomach.

It felt like a warning sign but oddly pleasurable at the same time. Writing it off as nerves getting the best of you, food was the last thing on your mind. Once dinner was done you ate much less than you would have normally. Loki tried to question if you felt okay, you claimed you did but you were tired.

When getting ready for bed your reflection caught your eye.

You saw the body you were happy with but with a further look you wondered if Loki actually liked your body. All of the compliments he showered you with today meant nothing to the dark thoughts of yourself.

You decided to wear more modest clothes as the days went on. Loki tried to initiate more than kisses but the more he touched you the more that coil tightened in your stomach. That coil scared you. You never felt anything like it before the talks of sex.

-:-

Loki watched as you went to the bedroom with your shoulders seeming to be heavier than normal. He noticed something off when you claimed you were okay but with the claim of needing rest he dismissed it. Cleaning up the leftovers, he also decided to do the dishes and straighten up a little. He didn't want you to worry about those things if you weren't feeling well. Days went by and you were acting strange.

When Loki went to the bedroom he noticed you were not in bed yet, but in the joined bathroom. He paused for a second to see you just staring at yourself. Then you pinched your belly with a sigh. You tried to hold in your stomach and smooth other parts.

Loki has never seen you do any of that before. You always seemed proud of your body and he did not mind buying you clothes to boost your confidence. However he noticed a change in your clothing choices as of recently. He loved your body. You didn't feel like a fragile thing in his arms. You had a wonderfully voluptuous body that Loki could hardly wait to have bare and shaking in pleasure. Your thighs were soft, wonderful pillows and he looked forward to being between them.

His thoughts ended as you opened the door, forcing him to act like he did not see you thinking less about your body. Tomorrow he would question you about it.

-:-

You looked at your clothes and wondered what you should wear today. Hands were on your shoulders and a voice purred in your ear.

"The weather is beautiful today and I would love to see you in that crop top today."

Your eyes instantly went to the one you knew he liked but it just didn't feel right anymore.

"Is something wrong?"

You answered a curt "no."

"(Y/n)."

You sighed heavily, knowing you were caught in a lie.

Loki turned you to face him and the fingers under your chin made you look at him in the eyes.

"What is wrong (y/n)?"

"I just… I don't like… I am worried you won't like.." with a deep inhale you just stated. "I am nervous."

He placed a kiss to your forehead and then looked into your eyes. "You are having concerns about being more intimate with me."

You nodded as tears pricked your eyes. 

Loki took your hands in his, placed a kiss on both and finally held them to his chest. "My heart beats wildly for you. I love you. Every. Single. Part. Of. You. No matter what -you are the one I have chosen to be with these past five years. You are the one I want to spend my life with. If you do not wish for me to touch you then I will honor your request."

You had no other choice than to look in his eyes or at your hands pressed against his chest. His heart was indeed racing and so was yours.

"I do want to… be with you. But I never did that with anyone…"

Loki cupped your cheek and wiped his thumb under your eye. "You do not need to worry about a thing. So long as you want to, we can and will. I will be there to worship your body."

You nodded but the coil tightened again with the thought of Loki doing things to you. You sighed frustrated… Loki gave your hand a squeeze and gently called your name.

"Every time I think of sex it is like this..alarm goes off in my body. Like something tightening in my stomach and it makes me nervous. It has never happened before we talked about that."

You looked at Loki's face and he seemed amused.

He kissed your forehead and stated, "that is to be expected. This is all new to you." 

Loki hugged you and you held him back. You whispered into his shoulder,

"Can we just go to sleep?"

Loki smiled at you and took you to the bed. He held you all night.

-:-

Loki did not hold you all night.

As soon as you were in a deep sleep he crept to the computer. As you always did, you left your torrid account logged in. He noticed several things in the cart so he started there. You had several lingerie options picked out and naturally Loki felt a pull to the ones with his colors… Despite being biased, he ordered all of the ones you had in your cart. He might have ordered a few other items he liked as well.

-:-

Two days passed and it felt odd to be near Loki. He wasn't overly touchy like he had been, he still talked as he always did but there was no purr in his voice.

Loki was away at work and you were watching a favorite movie to trying to settle the nagging sadness.

There was noise coming from the front door and then the door bell rang. Once you opened the door, no one was there. However, packages were there. You did not order anything and wondered what Loki had. Seeing the address of Torrid you really wanted to know what he ordered.

"Oh no… did he see!"

You quickly opened the packaging and sure enough… there were many lingerie options. He apparently did some shopping of his own because there were more clothes he ordered. Holding up a dress that was sure to compliment your figure made a smile form on your lips. 

Your phone buzzed from a text.

Loki had sent a text. "I hope you got the package. Choose what you want to wear, something fun to do and a place to eat for dinner. Tonight is about you."

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Missing | 01

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst, Slice of Life, Fluff

Pairing: Wolf!Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: No warnings apply

Summary: Upon meeting a person there are many ways in which the relationship can go, both positively and negatively. Fortunately, the former applies when meeting a child of the forest who takes a curious liking to the woman initially deemed an intruder.

However, that does not answer the questions about who the youth is nor where he comes from for the files at the police station do not contain his likeness. Perhaps it is better to live in anonymity, forgetful of the past.

Indeed, some things are best left behind.

Or are they?

A collision of worlds leads to entwining paths, bound to find beauty on the horizon despite the storms lurking in the shadows.

Bound to find what it means to be human.

Finding the missing piece of an erased tale. 

Next part

Masterlist

People go missing all the time, vanishing into the dead of night for all sorts of reasons or none at all. Some take flight abroad or go into hiding in the native environment, assuming a new identity and thus blending in seamlessly. But there are the common cases of individuals disappearing from the face of the earth in the woods, though some of those accidents go under the radar. More than one would think.

‘Who are you?’

And some are heart-rending.

Hiding away in the bushes, long messy obsidian locks glare from between the leaves at the girl who has come to a standstill at hearing a nearby rustle. Out of fear for being attacked by a wild animal, motor boots immediately stopped in their tracks to scan the woodland surroundings frantically and eventually settled with a calmer heart when discovering the face concealed for the most part by the lush overgrowth.

‘I won’t hurt you.’ Taking in a deep breath as a hand stretches out, a reaching step forward is made towards the stranger. Withal, the advance is met by a dangerous animalistic growl and a flinch backwards. That does not mean, however, that the leaving path others often take will be tread upon as well. Is refused to be taken, even. Henceforth, voice remains friendly and mellow while persevering. ‘I mean you no harm.’

Persevering in the effort to discover the identity of the observer, all advances are halted as lightly shaking digits continue to beckon silently from a crouched position. Eyes remain locked onto the dark doe-like ones containing wild distrust, hoping to build at least a sliver of credible safety to draw out the newcomer. ‘What’s your name?’

The question remains unanswered, sitting in a sun-lit growling hostile hush. Notwithstanding, instead of being scared off by the hostile behaviour, the patience game is kept up beneath the roof of leaves. And likely knowing there is no way out of it, the curious observer comes out of hiding after an unmoving lingering moment of inaudible static scented by pine leaves swaying in the wind and the end of summer.

Slender fingers with soil embedded richly under the nails bury themselves into the earth while warily approaching, bare toes following each crawling step forward. Thus, slowly but surely naked well-formed limbs, shaped by running around the forest and hunting for food, come out of the bush as a young face showing sharp canines draws near.

The boy is not much older than eighteen, if that age at all. Yet, it is hard to tell when the cute big nose streaked with dirt presses against the palm after warily sniffing it and, fortunately, finding no direct risk in it. 

‘There you go. Good boy.’ Very slowly, the other hand rises to caress greasy onyx locks as the same sort of speech meant for training animals is taken on for it seems the most logical course of action. Which proves effective, the stranger leaning into the touch and beginning to purr due to the repeated affectionate motions. ‘That’s a good boy. See? I don’t mean to harm you.’

Why are you here? Who are you?

Pondering these questions and listening to the sound of appreciation, a few moments are taken to think and actually enjoy the stranger’s company. However, regardless of the latter, there has to be a warrant of some sort out for the boy. At least there has to be a person missing them.

While trying to work out whether or not the grime-streaked face has ever been seen in documents while visiting Namjoon at the police precinct for lunch, because the oaf cannot live without his sister’s food delivery service, the clouds gather overhead and soon the first drops preluding to the predicted heavy rainfall drop on the faces of newly acquainted people. Directly, an odd inner war unleashes at the prospect of going back to the shared roof on the outskirts of town for the boy does not want to be left behind out of a simmering fear that this will be a one-time happening. On the other hand, if a return home is not made now it is only a matter of time before running the serious risk of catching a heavy cold as the murky grey and carmine flannel will very likely not stand a chance against the watery chill of the rain.

Teeth pull on the checkered sleeve, urgent in a physical request to come along and the begging shimmer in irises like storm clouds flowing over in audible soft whines.

‘Stop, I need to go home.’ The assault on the blouse continues, either purposefully disregarding the refusal to follow or not understanding altogether. Whatever the case, it frustratingly adds to the confusion of not knowing how to cope with emotions and desires. ‘Stop!’

The forceful command is heeded, but results in the stranger unexpectedly bridging the last bit of distance to lick the side of the neck before any protest against it can be made and the scent of wild free-running fills the nose. 

Bodies come even closer upon being nuzzled, a calloused hand wrapping around the hip for support as soft whines are pressed into the skin covered by a thin layer of saliva. 

Fluttering helpless hands eventually rest themselves on a broad shoulder and between dark strands, lovingly combing through them for the submissive concern of the forest stranger tugs on the heartstrings and wants to be solaced. Comfort deserves to be given before parting ways.

Even though I don’t want to. I don’t want to go, but I have to. Joon will go insane if I don’t come home.

‘I can’t come with you. I have to go home.’ Gently, the grip on the waist is tried to be made undone but the attempt proves futile, the hold only becoming stronger as a result. ‘I’ll be back, I promise.’

But would you still be here then?

The raindrops have thickened and start to fall at a faster pace, thunder sounding faintly in the distance. At the noise, a shudder clearly goes through the wolf boy and the whines become anxiously high-pitched.

‘Hey, shh, don’t be scared. It’s just thunder.’ Digits continue to comfortingly comb the greasy long locks of the young face hiding away in the surface of the neck. Awkwardly though successfully, arms envelop the shivering figure while trying to sit down and hold them dear in a warm safe embrace. ‘Shh, it’s going to be alright. It can’t hurt you.’

It is too late to return to the car now and leaving the curious youth behind in such distress also is not an option. Henceforth, instead of protesting, the renewed pull of teeth - this time by the collar howbeit in a weaker almost defeated version - is gone along with. ‘Ok, alright. I’ll follow you.’

As if to check the meaning behind the statement, big murky grey eyes lock gazes with, hopefully, reassuring ones. Palms envelop dirty cheeks, thumbs languidly caressing the uneven surface. ‘I’m not going to leave you behind.’

As if understanding, which he perhaps does, the fear from the doubting anxious expression temporarily melts away and transforms into bright contentment laced with enthusiasm. The promise is rewarded with a lick on the left wrist, the vibrations from loudly purring reverberating throughout and strangely making the heart beat in similar yet mutual delight.

I’ll stay until the weather’s cleared up. Until I know you’re safe and sound.

Notwithstanding, the tangible sign of satisfaction hastily reverts to anxious whining, all happiness morphing back into the frightened attitude that was briefly put at ease, when the thunder sounds nearer to the current location. At once, arms wrap around scared shaking shoulders and hold them close again, fingertips running through jet black strands while speech remains calm and encouraging. ‘C’mon, let’s go.’

A curt gentle lick is the last type of direct close contact before getting up and being guided by the fast-crawling human wolf who glances back at regular intervals to make sure a friendly soul follows. Which results in rapidly turning around when almost stumbling over a broken-off branch and frantically searching for any injuries only to find none and be assured by a pat on the head. 

Anyway, to ensure boots do not get lost among the trees, and hopefully halfway through to wherever we are going, canines untuck the part of the blouse put into high-waisted jeans as big palms wrap around the thigh for support and keep biting down on it in a fashion almost to be called content while being led to a cave near a waterfall at the heart of the forest. 

By the time the destination is reached, water is flowing richly out of the heavens and off quickly chilling skin and a satisfied face somewhat cleaned of the dirt that still stains it. The guess as to age does not change, however, although it is slightly raised towards nineteen.

To reduce the chances of getting sick immediately, socks are wrung out as well as the checkered shirt when the boy is simply sitting by the entrance of the cave. Even from afar, the nervous shifting is visible as soft scared whines bounce off the cold stony walls.

Gaining a whole new attitude when glancing back at a figure trembling for a different reason, hastily walking away from the entrance to retrieve something from further inward.

A blanket.

A baby’s blanket.

Clutching the piece of sheep’s wool between teeth, the stranger returns with swift determined advances and puts it in a grateful yet surprised lap. After all, where did this come from?

How did you get this? Is this truly yours?

A curious tilt of the head and a slight nudge indicate the blanket is meant as a means to protect oneself against the chill. Thus, the sweetly offered fabric is wrapped tightly around the shoulders, revelling in the immediate albeit little warmth it provides. ‘Thank you.’

Lashes flutter shut as a soft chuff rolls from roseate lips, the boy clearly happy to have provided a way to nuance the worst of the cold nevertheless streaming in through the opening of this home in the woodlands. Notwithstanding, a yelp follows it at the loud clap of thunder nearby, eyes wide open and shining in alarm.

Palms envelop slightly cleaner cheeks, caressing them like before to soothe the worst of the shock of the sudden ear-deafening noise. ‘Shh. Don’t be scared, it can’t hurt you.’

A new voluminous rumble rapidly followed by lightning sends a heavily sharp-breathing chest crashing into arms not expecting the spontaneous weight they have to support, risking toppling backwards yet able to steady composure before crossing the point of balance. Curt breaths heat up the side of the throat, the heart pulled by its strings at hearing the anxious whimpers whispered into the skin. ‘It’s okay, it’s alright. We’re safe and sound here. I got you. I won’t let anything hurt you.’

A questioning yap is unbelieving of the genuine promise to repay the favour of safety though a short lick shows there is a sliver contradicting the used tone.

‘I promise. I promise to be here until the storm passes.’ Howbeit with a little force, the listening wolf is halted in slowly covering the neck with slobber and brought to lock gazes after a kiss on the forehead as would have been done to comfort a distressed dog. ‘I promise I’ll keep you safe.’

Whether the words are truly understood or the affectionate gesture did work its magic, the stranger visibly calms down. Even seems to gain a degree of courage, determination sparking in the storm-hued irises and echoing in the low bark.

‘That’s a good boy.’ At the compliment, a bared muscled chest puffs in pride and presses against one barely containing a giggle when being nuzzled again.

Withal, the embrace does not last long afterwards, the forest boy removing himself to guard the entryway against the weather and possible intruders. Nonetheless, he does not do so before the blanket is removed from the shoulders it was meant for to create a nest to rest in, as is gathered from the renewed tug on the sleeve by leading canines.

The weather will be like this for quite some time. I might as well. One night in the woods won’t kill me. A worried Joon, on the other hand.

Though it would mean fair game since the tall giant has caused great distress on multiple occasions by being hospitalized thanks to working as a cop and a magnetic bullet sponge. At first, there was genuine worry about recovery, but nowadays it has happened so often we have resorted to humour and sarcasm to laugh the situation off. Namjoon prefers it over the fuss he actually does not want to create, fearing to be a bother to a beloved sister and boyfriend. So, perhaps also as a way of mental recovery each time, we go about thus. 

This one time is only a step on the way of getting even for the early morning and late-night drives to the hospital.

Listening to the downpour, regarding the curious boy a little ways away, lashes eventually flutter shut.

And glance a name that will have to be inquired after later.

Jungkook.

The wolf.

The boy sleeping soundly in waking arms come morn.

The beginning of an extraordinary story. 

[so-langdon]

Stomachache - Duncan Shepherd x Fem! Reader HC’s

Summary: HC’s about Duncan’s mother Annette visiting Duncan at work while Y/N and Duncan were beginning to get intimate.

Warnings: Sexual situations, mentions of smut, oral (male receiving), teasing, swearing

Tagged!: @hecohansen31 , @gypsylilacs , @michaelsapostle @rocketgirl2410

Y/N met Duncan when she became his personal secretary/assistant

Y/N and Duncan were never flirty or inappropriate with each other in the beginning

Always having a professional relationship and doing whatever work Duncan asked of her

But one day, it was like a switch had gone off, causing Duncan to go from professional to flirty

He began complimenting her attire, appropriately of course, giving her charming smiles, sweet expressions, making Y’N’s stomach flood with butterflies

One evening, after Y/N had to stay late to organize an immense amount of files that were brought in, Duncan stays to help her

“You don’t have to do this, I can handle it,” Y/N told him. “It’s my job anyway.”

“I know you can. But I want to be here with you and help,” he smiled

Duncan ordered them dinner halfway through organizing, and even got them a bottle of wine to drink

“Is this appropriate?” Y/N asked when he had the food and drinks brought in when they were supposed to be working

“We gotta eat, don’t we?” He grinned. “A little wine and food never hurt anyone.”

After dinner and a few glasses of wine, Duncan became obviously more flirty, and Y/N began relaxing more, testing the waters and flirting back

Eventually, one thing led to another, and they were kissing, hands roaming each others bodies, clothes being shredded

Duncan had pushed everything off his desk, making room to lay Y/N down while he leaned over, kissing and eventually fucking her

Y/N couldn’t remember a time when she had, had such mind-blowing sex

The way Duncan touched her, teased her, fucked her, made her cum

It was completely euphoric

Duncan had his fair share of flings, but with Y/N, even he couldn’t remember a time he’d had such great sex either

Y/N was an irresistible beauty, sexy and sweet all in one, just the mere glance of her doe-like eyes filled with lust making Duncan almost cum on the spot before he could even get his pants off

After, as the two calmed down, still present in each other’s bliss and not remembering the world, they look at one another with a particular look neither can determine

But then, as they come back to reality, Y/N freaks out a bit, not believing she had just slept with her boss, feeling like they’d broken a huge rule and that she’d get in trouble or for sure fired 

Duncan sensed the panic in her, seeing how she was reacting, but he assured her and told her everything was okay

“It’s my company. No one needs to know; no one has to know. It’s no one’s business. You’re safe with me,” he told her

Duncan asked her on a proper date after that, telling her he’d been crushing on her for months while they worked together but never wanted to make her uncomfortable 

He started complimenting her and getting more flirty suddenly just because he couldn’t take not expressing his feelings in some way

Once Y/N flirted back with Duncan that evening, that’s when he decided to go for the kiss (which then led to everything else). But if she had said no, he would have respected it and left things alone

But he was so thrilled she returned the same feelings

After going out several times, they became official, falling hard for one another

They’d kept their work and personal lives separate

Y/N did her work as she was supposed to, retaining a professional and appropriate relationship with Duncan while in the office and working coincide

But once she was officially off, Duncan’s lips and hands were all over her, sweet nothings, loving words and dirty whispers leaving Duncan’s mouth for her

They maintained this relationship for months, only growing together more with each day

One day down the road, Duncan was working on some layout decisions and sign offs for an upcoming project

He was becoming annoyed and impatient, wanting to take a break

He called Y/N in, asking if she wanted to take her break too, offering them to go to lunch

“Are you okay? You seem.. kind of tense,” Y/N noticed, closing the door and walking further into his office

“Just all of this bullshit with the app,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s stressing me out. I just want to forget about it for awhile”

“I know a great way to help you relax, if you’d like,” Y/N purred, smiling innocently as she walked over to Duncan’s desk

He looked at her, Y/N sitting on his lap, one knee crossing over the other as she wrapped her arms around his neck

“What did you have in mind,” Duncan smirked, leaning in to kiss her

She leaned away to kiss his neck only, starting to tease him, hand brushing over his lower region

Duncan started to get antsy as she continued, trying to kiss her, trying to create more friction with her hand against him, getting turned on by her actions

She gets off his lap after she gives him a kiss finally, and kneels down in between his legs and the desk

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing,” Duncan asked amused, watching as she kneeled on the floor in front of him, looking up at him sweetly and unbuckling his pants

“Loving you. Taking care of you,” she smiled, releasing his hardening length from his pants

It didn’t take long for Y/N to get Duncan completely aroused, his hard cock twitching in her hands and as she teased him with pumping his length with her hand

“Don’t tease me any more, baby,” Duncan groaned lightly

Wanting to of course please and relax him, she got right to it, bringing the tip of his cock to her mouth, sucking lightly at the head before taking him in further

Duncan placed a hand on her head, leaning his head back, always loving the way her mouth felt around him

Warm, wet, with just the right amount of pressure, knowing just where and how to suck, lick and swirl her tongue

"Fuck, I swear your mouth was made for me,” Duncan moaned

Before anything could continue from there, a knock occurred at the door, startling Duncan and Y/N

“Fuck,” Duncan whispered, looking towards the door. “Hold on a minute,” he calls, trying to buy him and Y/N time to get out of this predicament

“Duncan, it’s me,” his mother Annette speaks and opens the door, never bothering to wait because she’s his mother of course

Duncan scooted his chair in a bit, making Y/N cover her mouth and hide her giggle as she had to remain kneeled down in front of him under his desk while his mother decided to show up unexpectedly 

“Where is Y/N? I rang her up on my way here to let you know I was on my way.”

“She’s um, at lunch,” Duncan answered, trying to ignore his fully hard erection that he tried to keep down at his desk while his mother stood on the other side

“Right. Such a lovely girl, that one,” Annette smiled. “Anyway...”

Annette began going on about something with an upcoming charity event, Duncan nodding pleasantly and quickly every two seconds to try and get her out faster

Y/N bites her lip, knowing she shouldn’t, but can’t help herself when she grabs Duncan’s length, pumping her hand around him

Duncan sucks in a breath as she does

Y/N leans her head over, still hidden under the desk as she brings his cock back into her mouth, beginning with a hard suck at the tip of his head

Duncan clears his throat, trying to cover a moan

Annette keeps going on without even noticing, walking around the room every once in awhile but keeping her eyes on Duncan

Duncan tries to remain impassive and normal as he can, nodding at the right times and holding his breath to not show his heavy breathing or to call out Y/N’s name

Y/N continues with her teasing of course, taking all of Duncan in

She tries to be as quiet as she can, which means her movements are slower, more firm, and more achingly pleasurable

And it kills Duncan, feeling the teasing of her as she slowly sucks and swirls her tongue around slowly

Duncan grips the end of the arms of the chair, biting his tongue

At one point, Duncan can’t help but let a low moan out, making Annette narrow her eyes as she looks at him confused

“S-Sorry,” he forces a laugh. “I just, um, stomachache. It’s, killer, yeah,” he breathes out deeply, nodding

“Maybe you’re hungry. Perhaps you should go to lunch too to help with that,” Annette points out

“Yeah, I’ll probably go so -- fuck,” Duncan breathes, and grits his teeth. “Sorry,” he clears his throat again. “It just, yeah. You should probably leave. I’m very busy and um,” his breath hitches, feeling himself twitch in Y/N’s mouth, a deep pleasure building in him, “have to get lunch, clearly,” Duncan forces a small smile

Annette agrees, but gives some last bit info for the charity event before bidding her goodbyes

Y/N takes the opportunity to do just what she knows will make Duncan go over the edge, and she takes him all the way into her mouth, deep-throating him as her hands grab his balls gently, rolling them around softly. 

With one final suck while bobbing her head up and down on his cock, touching the back of her throat, she hums out quietly and swirls her tongue around him, causing Duncan to reach that point and to cum

Annette is just leaving as he does, waving a hand and letting the door shut behind her

Duncan leans back, closing his eyes and moaning out the last bit of his orgasm, unable to contain himself as Y/N sucks and swallows every bit of him

Duncan breathes out heavily, looking down at Y/N as she peeks her head up, kneeling up higher and placing her hands on the tops of his thighs. She licks her lips, smiling at him

"You made me cum while I was talking to my mother,” Duncan says bewildered and shooketh

“And it was so fun doing it too,” Y/N smirks, standing up

“You’re lucky I’m too spent to get up and get you back,” Duncan chuckles lowly, watching her walk around his desk and to the door

“Mhm, whatever you say,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll go order lunch for your ‘stomachache’ now,” she teases, grinning back at him as she reaches the door

“I fucking swear,” Duncan glares mischievously, “you’ll regret that little act of yours later on,” he threatens and grins too, shaking his head

“I look forward to it,” she winks, blowing him a kiss and walking out the door

Duncan leans his head back, shaking his head again. “I’m going to fucking marry that girl,” he mutters to himself, smiling

[gaycrouton]

Sex Education

For: @xfpornbattle ‘s December/January 2019 Porn Battle and in honor of Sex Education coming out soon.

Prompt: AU where Mulder is a sex therapist helping Scully out using toys on her or more (I took liberties because I don’t like writing AU’s so I hope it’s still okay)

"You're lying," she balked at him, invigorated by the prospect of learning something new about the man she knew better than herself.

The new information was accompanied by a new facial expression; she couldn't remember ever seeing Mulder look half as shy as he did right now. Shifting his weight on the couch, he let out a wavering, breathy laugh as he sighed, "I wish I was."

He'd come over to her apartment for their weekly movie night, becoming weekly after that night all those months ago when he took her to the batting cages and they couldn't bring themselves to end their date. They didn't call it that of course, merely wishing to spend a little more time together. It resulted in her hanging out at his place while they watched whatever D-List movie was playing on TV. Now it was second nature for one of them to haphazardly clean their apartment while the other got food after work on Friday. The only thing that changed from week to week was whose apartment it was at and what movie they watched. Everything else stayed the exact same; the packs of beers, a box of his and hers pizza, her hawaiian, his meat lovers, the same ol' couches, the same rampant sexual tension they never seemed to fucking act on.

Maybe they sat closer than they would have a few years ago and maybe their hugs lasted a bit longer than what most would deem appropriate, but neither of them had made a move. Part of her was curious if this new bit of revealed information was some attempt to drunkenly flirt, test what her reaction would be, but based on the discoloration in his cheeks right now, it might have just been a tipsy slip of the tongue.

A slip she was not about to let slide.

Commercial breaks seemed to be far more important to them on these nights than the actual movies were. As soon as the screen faded from a film to an advertisement, one of them was inevitably already speaking, desperately wanting to capitalize on a moment where the only thing they could do was make small talk for an intermittent three to five minutes. It was a small intimacy, but one they both cherished.

However, this time as Die Hard faded out, her words got caught in her throat as she was distracted by the first commercial. A blonde british woman advertising her at home therapy. Sex therapy. As she proclaimed all the various sexual disorders she could help solve in graphic detail, Mulder chuckled lightly to himself.

"What's so funny?" she prompted, nudging his knee with her own.

"Oh, it's nothing. This just brings up some old memories." He must've read the implications of his words in the expression on her face because he quickly added. "No, no I didn't go to one. I was one."

Scully'd initially thought he was joking and she couldn't believe he was insisting he was serious. Now she was just sitting there watching Mulder try to change the subject. "No, no. I've read your file. I've seen your CV. Sex Therapist was never listed. I would have definitely remembered something like that."

"I did it when I was studying at Oxford to make extra money. It was an underground operation just to help some underclassmen with their problems or insecurities. I went under an alias so no one would know I wasn't licensed." He grabbed another beer out of their shared cartridge and she was internally encouraging him to drink more if it loosened up his tongue this much.

She didn't care that Bruce Willis had returned to the screen, she had her own mission to deal with. "What was your alias?"

"Jean," he admitted, "Spelled j-e-a-n, not j-o-h-n. I thought it would make me seem classy," he laughed.

"How long?" she asked, completely turning her body on the couch to face him, pleased when he did the same. They rarely talked in depths about themselves, especially not about something so revealing.

"Basically three quarters of my time there, I'd say. The latter three quarters." He clearly was taken by surprise at her complete and utter interest on the subject and was answering honestly to keep her undivided attention.

"What made you want to do that of all things?" She punctuated her question by finishing off her own beer and grabbing another.

"Oh, um," he bashfully started, playing with the rim of his beer bottle. Then he murmured something and she had to interrupt him.

"I didn't catch that last part. What'd you say?"

He bit his lip in that way she oh-so loved before continuing, as if debating saying the words at full volume. "I was told I'd be good at it."

"By wh-oh," she exclaimed realizing what he was implying.

"It was college," he shrugged, laughing off the fact he just told her he apparently excelled enough in bed to be asked advice. Excelled enough to get paid for said advice.

"I'm learning so much about you," she beamed, the liquor having loosened her inhibitions enough to flirt a little. "Were you good?"

"Well everyone I was with left satisfied. A few times over," he smiled in humble honesty.

She felt a gush of arousal seep onto her panties at this admission. Fox Mulder, giver of multiple orgasms. Good to know, though not what she had meant. "Good to know," she actually voice in a tone she didn't mean to be so husky. "But I meant were you good as a sex therapist?"

"Oh!" he proclaimed, an embarrassed laugh breaking apart his sentence. She could see the back of his neck being stained crimson from here. "Um, I guess. A lot of my clients told me I was a big help. It was really just me combining classroom experience with knowledge of, um, my own experience. But, I don't know, I'm not sure if I was really even giving the best advice."

"Let me be the judge." The words left her mouth before she even had a full chance to register what she even meant by them.

"What?" he squeaked, eyes widening.

With an uncharacteristic giggle, she adjusted herself so that her shoulders and neck were supported by the arm of the couch and her calves laid across his lap, laying in the perfect therapy pose. She laced her fingers across her abdomen and watched in amusement as he tried unsuccessfully to be subtle as his eyes appreciated her body. "Give me some therapy," she demanded.

"You want me to give you sex therapy?" he asked incredulously, amusement dancing in his expression.

"Yep," the beer answered.

"You're sure?" It was cute how nervous he was right now and it just added to her confidence.

"Come on Dr. Mulder," she all but purred, "Why not?"

He cleared his throat and reached over to her end table to pick up her reading glasses, putting them on for dramatic effect. "Okay, Ms. Scully. What brings you here today?" His baritone somehow seemed deeper than normal, resonating in her bones and she had to repress a shudder.

"Hmm," she pondered. She hadn't actually thought that far ahead. I'm here today because I'm so sexually frustrated because of my partner that he's all I can think of when I masturbate. That I come home every day soaking wet and desperate from being so close to him that I rip off my clothes and jack off. The right answer seemed a little too on the head. "I'm not sure. I guess just to hear your expertise on the subject," she shrugged coyly.

"Have you seen a Sex Therapist before?" he asked, lightly placing a hand on one nylon-clad calf. She shook her head against the fabric of the couch and watched him intently. "That's perfectly fine. We can start with some foundational questions."

"Okay."

His voice returned to it's prior shy state when he asked his next question, "And you want this session to be exactly how I would normally treat a session?"

"I want the full Jean experience," she confidently stated, smiling at him in encouragement.

"Okay," he drug out in a tone that implied she didn't know what she had in store for her.

She didn't

"Describe your first orgasm, in as much detail as you can." His smile widened at the same rate as her eyes. Clearly, he assumed she wasn't going to answer, but she was more than a few beers in and most of the blood in her body was in one area leading her decisions right now.

"I believe my first ever orgasm happened when I was twelve." She saw Mulder's eyebrows shoot up in surprise and she tried to conceal her pride in surprising him but continuing. "I don't fully remember the events leading up to it. It was a wet dream. I just woke up in the middle of, what I thought was, a really intense shudder and a weird, sticky feeling on my crotch." She started giggling at the memory and she shifted a little on the couch, "I-I also had my favorite teddy bear squeezed in between my thighs with a near-vice grip as I grinded his face into the pillow."

He laughed out loud along with her before asking, "Do you remember what you were dreaming about?"

"Oh god if I know. I don't even think I thought about boys back then. I truly have no idea."

He nodded in deep concentration and she presumed if they were in Oxford in 1984 he would have been taking diligent notes on her little teddy bear rendevouz. "When was the first time you brought yourself to orgasm?"

She let out a little laugh and, regardless of the fact she was a little tipsy, she couldn't believe she was actually divulging this in front of Mulder. Part of her thought she should stop to spare herself embarrassment in the morning, but there was something about the intensity of his eyes, the absolute curiosity about her answers, that made her keep going.

"Well, even though I didn't necessarily know that it was on orgasm I was having at that time, I knew it felt fucking fantastic, and I was desperate to have it happen again. For months after that, god this is so embarrassing," she laughed, covering her face with her hands. She felt a hand touch her elbow and she spread her fingers on her face to look at him.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want, but know I won't tease you for anything you say." Then, holding up that same arm in a mock boy-scout salute, added, "Doctor-Patient confidentiality."

She smiled at him and put her hands back on her ribs. "Well, for months after, when I was positive Missy was asleep I would try to recreate it. I would take that poor little bear and just squeeze my thighs together around his neck hoping it would do something."

"Did it?" he asked, trying to hold back laughter.

"No!" she explained through a chuckle. "So eventually, I walked myself to the library and went to the Human Anatomy section."

"Of course you did."

She rolled her eyes at him and nudged him in the stomach with her free foot. "And I eventually found some human sexuailty books. The female sections weren't very detailed, it was the seventies,-"

"Probably couldn't see anything through all the hair," he joked.

She snorted and continued through a laugh, "Anyway, I learned enough. Where the clit was, what it should do, the vaginal passage, you know all the good stuff." He nodded in affirmation of the good stuff and she resisted rolling her eyes again. "So I went home, took a hand mirror and looked at myself. I tried to put a finger inside but it hurt, so I just focused on the clit. For the first few minutes I didn't think it was doing anything, but then I felt something in my gut. Like I was running up a hill and I didn't know what would be at the top, but I just had to know. Soon the mirror was forgotten and I was giving myself tennis arm on my bedroom floor."

"Then what?" he asked, his eyes not having moved from her during her entire description.

He started smiling when he saw the look on her face, knowing something embarrassing was about to be revealed. "Well," she started, trying to ignore the way her face was undoubtedly flushing at the embarrassing memory. "I came. Hard. It was like every cell in by body had bloomed and was tingling in pleasure. It felt so incredible, and it was so sudden, that I screamed 'oh my god' at the top of my lungs."

"Don't tell me-"

"Yep, my entire family was home. I heard someone running down the hall so I put my shorts on as quickly as I possibly could. Then Missy barged in and I told her I saw a spider."

"Did she believe you?" he asked, fully engrossed in the story.

"Not even a little. I was flushed and sweaty, my legs were trembling, and my underwear was still lying on the floor. She told me not to do that when mom and dad were home before walking out and yelling that there was a huge spider in the room, but she took care of it."

"Did you stop masturbating after that?" He'd resumed his professional voice and somehow it made the confession less embarrassing.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. He smiled and nodded appreciatively, taking more mental notes.

"When was the first time you achieved orgasm by someone else?" he asked.

Now she was reminded of why she didn't like therapy. They always seemed to discover what she'd been trying to hide. She'd come from thinking about other people, him, but in all honesty, no one else had made her come. She'd gotten off touching herself during sex, but the other participants really didn't really contribute. It was always her expertise and imagination that pushed her over the edge. "Um, like-"

"The first time someone else made you cum, could be by hand, mouth, dry humping-" he offered, noticing her struggle. She wondered if he'd be able to tell if she lied. Probably. She didn't have a chance to come up with something because he'd already figured her out. "No one else has made you come?" His professional voice couldn't mask his absolute shock.

"N-no."

"Were they not stimulating you?" he asked. He almost sounded like he wanted to enact revenge on her former lovers on behalf for her lack of pleasure.

"Well, they would try, but it just never worked. Usually I'd feel so bad for them that I'd fake it."

"Couldn't they tell?" he asked with the cute naivete of someone who's never slept with a man.

He was staring straight at her and, in another move that simply had to be fueled from the beers she downed, she pulled a Meg Ryan. Rolling her eyes to the back of her head she gasped loudly and arched her back. "Oh, fuck," she cried in a high breathy voice as she let her body tremble against him. Then as if she never did she fell back and deadpanned, "It's not that hard."

But he was. That much she could feel against the side of her calf. She wasn't about to look and confirm her suspicions though because that would mean missing out on the way his eyes were devouring her like she was sex personified. When she had fallen back he gasped lightly and licked his lips shifting his his upwards ever so slightly as if possessed.

"They never knew any different," she shrugged, shoulders heavy against the tension in the room.

"I could tell," he stated confidently.

"Oh really? How?" she prompted, curious as to where his conviction came from.

"From the very little I know about your sexual history, I think there would be more hip gyration, more focus on your clit." She didn't need to check to know she was soaking wet. Her arousal had probably started to seep onto her nylons and inner thighs, and she was suddenly second guessing her position, hoping Mulder couldn't smell her in the air.

"Besides, this is just speculation, but I've always imagined that during sex your voice would deepen. I don't think I've ever imagined a pitch so high."

"Imagined?" she repeated so softly it was almost a whisper. Was Mulder sitting here, hard on her sofa, confessing that he'd imagined her coming? Making her come?

"Hypothesized," he clarified as if that was any different. Before she had a chance to call him out on that, he continued "Are you comfortable with your body?"

Her brows furrowed at that, not quite sure where he was going. "More or less."

"More or less?" he repeated, looking confused.

"I mean, I guess," she shrugged.

"You guess?"

"Are you just going to parrot my answers back to me?" she laughed. She could be as self-assured as she wanted, but she had the same insecurities as any woman. Are my thighs too big? Are my boobs too small? Is my skin clear enough? Does this outfit flatter my body? She most certainly didn't hate her body, on a certain level she could find herself attractive, but she didn't know if she could consider herself hot or anything.

"Are you insecure?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

"I don't see how this pertains to my sex life?" She tried deflecting.

"If you aren't comfortable in your body, it might be distracting you during intimacy and preventing you from achieving orgasm. You might be too concerned what others think." She had to admit, interesting theory. No wonder people paid him for advice, that was pretty good. However she didn't really think that was the case. She wasn't really concerned about how her body looked during sex, she was more concerned about how her partners looked during sex, specifically within the past few years. Her lovers had an uncanny way of not being Fox Mulder and she found it distracting.

"I don't think that's it. I think I definitely don't think I'm ugly or repulsive. I'm not really concerned about how I look during sex."

He laughed and for a second she was offended until he incredulously stated. "Not ugly or repulsive? That's the best you can do?" She shrugged and the hand on her calf moved to her knee as he leaned forward slightly. "Scully, you are absolutely stunning, and I don't have to guess about that. If I had your body I'd walk around naked all the time," he joked though he was serious.

She averted her eyes as she bit back a smile. "That's sweet," she murmured appreciatively.

Easing back he stated, "But that's just my expert opinion." He cleared his throat and adjusted his sitting position slightly and she pretended like she didn't feel his erection rub against her. The only sign she did being the way her eyelids fluttered shut. When she opened them he was staring at her with a smirk, but she couldn't summon the will to be embarrassed.

"Do you currently consider yourself sexually satisfied?" he asked, not fully hiding the way his eyes flickered down her body.

"I take care of myself," she answered honestly. Satisfied was a qualifiable term and she didn't know what scale they were using. Did she come regularly? Yeah. The way she dreamed of? No.

"How often?"

She swallowed, as if it could take away any hesitance, before answering, "Daily."

"Are you sexually where you want to be right now?"

"Isn't that just another way of asking if I'm satisfied?"

"Let me rephrase. When you masturbate-" She still couldn't fully believe she was having an in-depth conversation about her sex life with Mulder. She didn't know if the shock would ever wear off. "-are you content, or are you fantasizing about getting off in a different way."

Rolling her eyes, she lamented, "Mulder. I have a vibrator under this very couch as we speak. I don't think that really screams 'content'. But who doesn't fantasize about something more? I achieve orgasm everyday though, so how much can I complain?"

His eyes lit up with this knowledge and a little hum resonated in the back of his throat. A sound of pleasure that she admitted she'd pleasured herself on the very place they sat. "So," she prompted, "What's your prognosis?"

"In my professional opinion?" he asked, earning a nod. "I think that you hold on tightly to control. Both in your professional and personal lives, you prefer to have a sense of control or at least knowledge about what happens. I think this translates into your sex life. It's easy for you to make yourself come, but harder to let other people because you don't like giving such a vulnerable part of yourself to someone else."

"Hmm," she pondered thoughtfully. Part of her felt exposed by his honest evaluation, but she couldn't dismiss it. She was nothing if not self-aware enough to recognize he was right. "What would you recommend?"

"Let go. Let someone else control you, sexually." The thought scared her a little bit, she'd been controlled enough in the past against her will to be wary. Pfaster, Duane Barry, her abduction, the list went on and on. The thought of letting someone else do what they wished with her was intimidating.

"So, I should just find someone that will do what they will, and I'll come if I don't try to regain control?"

He shook his head almost immediately and leaned infinitesimally closer to her. "I don't mean find some random guy. No. To accurately help you, I think you should be with someone you trust. Someone you know will respect your boundaries. It isn't about letting them do whatever they want to you, it's allowing them to take full responsibility for bringing you pleasure." She wasn't even sure he was conscious of the way his thumb was idly stroking her leg through her nylons right now.

"That sounds nice," she whispered, her voice quivering slightly.

"Do you have someone you trust enough?" She heard it in his voice. That strong combination of lust, hope, and fear. Putting himself out there and hoping she'd notice, but fearing she might possibly have some other man she trusted with her life stored away that he didn't know about.

"I do," she nodded. "I trust him more than anyone."

"Do you think you'll ask him?" he asked, moving his hand to rest above her knee, his pinky finger just barely slipping under the hem of her skirt.

"He's in the middle of a session right now," she teased lightly, deciding to be bold as she bent her knee so she could rub her stockinged foot against the bulge in the front of his pants. His hips involuntarily jumped as he thrust against her. "Would it be against the rules to ask my therapist?"

"Never," he proclaimed like a prayer. Before the last syllable even left his mouth, he'd moved himself in between her legs, grabbing her hip and neck as he pulled her flush against him in a searing kiss.

She couldn't help the guttural moan that ripped from her throat as she felt him draped over her. His erection was pressed to her lower belly like hot steel. She raised her knees so her legs were bent, inviting him closer and not caring how her skirt rode up her thighs to rest on her hips. She undulated her arousal against him causing him to moan, "Fuck, Scully," into her mouth, and she ate up every word greedily.

He pumped his hips into her gently, a rhythm matching a gentle nudge, but it was painfully erotic. Suddenly he shifted his weight onto his haunches and reached up her skirt, feeling around until he found the waistband of her nylons. He wasted no time slipping them down her legs, making sure to touch every inch of skin revealed. As he did this, she was eager to help, and she quickly untucked her cotton shirt and ripped it over her head, discarding it gracelessly against the ground. Before it even reached the ground, Mulder was groaning, "Oh my god."

Always a man for reciprocity, he took off his own shirt and threw it on top of hers, making a little pile. She didn't know what he was doing when he leaned over the side of the couch, easing his forearms on the wooden floor as he reached for something. She hadn't remembered him dropping anything, but then his intentions became clear when he resurfaced with her pink, oval shaped vibrator. She shot him a question in her stare and he was quick to reassure her, "I want to make you come with something you're familiar with first."

First. Implying the first of a series. A series of orgasms about to be brought upon her body by Mulder. Mulder. She gave him a toothy smile and he covered it with a kiss. She was a little too preoccupied with his body finally touching hers to enjoy the initial kiss, but now it was all her mind could focus on. She could taste the stale beer and pizza on his tongue that she was sure he could taste on hers. God, she'd imagined that pouty bottom lip could do wonders, but actually feeling the way it puckered, sucked, and nibbled on her lips was mind-blowing. His tongue slid against hers and it only added to the surrealism of all this.

They had to break away to gasp for breath and they took a moment just panting, looking into each other's eyes. "You sure you're okay with this?"

"More than you could ever know," she whispered, rubbing her leg against his straining erection. He moaned and lowered his head into the crook of her neck for a moment as he indulged himself, grinding himself into her.

Then, as if possessed, he leaned back again, this time hooking two fingers under her underwear, dragging the saturated scrap of fabric down her legs. "You are so beautiful," he praised, licking his lips while staring straight down at her exposed sex. She let out a little laugh as she watched him turn on her vibrator, the buzzing sound filling the room with noise that perfectly mirrored what she was feeling inside her body right now.

Instead of placing the toy on her immediately, he put it on her sternum, dragging it painfully slow down her skin, breaking off to rub it against her nipples, playing with them until they were hardened peaks straining against the cups of her bra. Then he descended lower, going in between her ribs, over her belly button, sliding over the bunched fabric around her waist, tickling the hairs of her pubic mound before oh god.

He placed a strong hand on her abdomen to prevent her from arching off the couch, which was her first instinct as soon as the silicone touched her clit. "Ugh, fuck," she growled, undulating her hips against him.

"What do you usually fantasize about when you do this to yourself?" he asked, his eyes so focused on her she was pretty sure the entire apartment could burn down around them and he wouldn't be able to look away.

He alternated between pushing the tip of the toy directly against her and dragging the flat edge back and forth over her. "You," she moaned as she raised one leg over the back of the couch. Mulder did her one better and grabbed the ankle, bringing it up to rest against his bare chest as he placed an open mouth kiss against the bone of her ankle. "What a coincidence. You're always at the forefront of my masturbatory fantasies."

She could feel a tight coiling in her gut and she was amazed he was able to do this to her in what felt like a matter of seconds, though seven years of foreplay was probably more than enough to her her to this state. "W-what am I usually doing?" she asked, still curious through her lust-riddled brain.

"This," he stated, pushing the vibrator down on her by thrusting his hips against it.

She couldn't believe how he'd timed that, nor the amount of self-assured confidence he had with that statement. As soon as the word left his mouth and his hips moved, she was sent into a body quaking orgasm. "Mulder!" she moaned, deep in her throat, her hips lurching upwards to meet him. The vibrations must've felt good for him too because she saw him bite his lip as he struggled to keep his eyes open, obviously wanting to enjoy the sight of her in the throes of a passion caused by him.

Her hands were grasping the couch with a deadly grip and she wouldn't be surprised if she left permanent marks. She ground her hips against his soaking wet hand, desperate to draw this out. Eventually, she became over sensitized and she grabbed his wrist lightly, grateful when he pulled the toy away, turning it off and setting it on the coffee table before returning to her. He placed kisses to her still humming body, and she could feel his pride through the upward curve of his lips on her skin. "I guessed right."

"About what?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.

"I accurately depicted the sound of your orgasm voice in my fantasies," he beamed. "Low." Kiss. "Husky." Kiss. "Smooth as honey." Kiss. "And insatiably arousing." She laughed breathly as she reached in between them and tugged at his belt.

"Wanna hear it again?" she teased in her most seductive voice.

Mulder actually moaned in response and quickly stood up, whipping his belt off as he disrobed the rest of the way. She followed suit, unfastening her bra and easing her skirt down her hips, laying bare on the couch admiring his impressive physique. "You're stunning too Mulder, do you know that."

Her comment seemed to hit past his lust riddled mind and he let out an adorably bashful laugh, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck where he was most certainly turning red again. "Oh, uh-thanks." For once the man she placed all her faith in stood in front of her with uncharacteristic uncertainty.

She opened her arms out to him. "Come 'ere."

He fell onto her gently and they both gasped as bare skin touched bare skin. Not wanting to get distracted from her mission, she kissed the tip of his nose before looking deep into his eyes. "I'm serious, Mulder. You're so attractive it drives me crazy. So crazy that I come home from work everyday aroused beyond belief and masturbate to the thought of you."

She must've gotten to him because he was fully smiling now, a toothy grin that she cherished. "You really know how to make a guy feel good, Scully."

She raised her hips so her wet arousal grazed against his swollen head and he grunted, resisting the urge to buck into her. "You have no idea, yet," she teased, rotating her hips to grind against him.

He laughed at her lame joke, but the traces of laughter on his face were replaced with ecstasy as he pushed into her. Inch by inch she couldn't believe how good he felt. Every centimeter deeper he went gave her new sensations and he seemed endless. Eventually, he was buried hilt deep and she could feel his balls pressing against the flesh of her ass. They stayed like that for a moment as she got used to being this filled.

He placed slow, languid kisses to her neck and she couldn't remember if she'd ever had such a thoughtful lover in her entire life. She was sure she didn't, none of her other lovers had been Fox Mulder. "I'm ready," she panted into the still air, and he complied immediately.

She moaned softly as she felt him ease out a few inches before plunging back in. His thrusts seemed exploratory, like he was trying to find what she responded to most. He didn't have to search for long, because one particularly good upward stroke had her gasping his name and clutching at his shoulders.

"You like that?" he asked, hitting the same spot again and getting an affirmative moan. He reached down and lifted her thighs higher on his own, allowing him to slip deeper into her. She hoped he didn't mind the crescent adornments she was leaving on his back, but figured he wouldn't since he was leaving matching ones on her hips. His thrusts started to pick up the pace and their breathing started to fill the room along with the sounds of their arousals meeting. A cacophony of sex.

She felt herself running up that familiar hill, pleasure building on pleasure, and it was burning white hot in her groin. "M-muhl-der, I-I'm so clos-se," she whimpered, writhing underneath him.

He let go of one side of her hip and brought it up to his mouth, licking the pads of his fingers before bringing it down to the apex of her thighs, swirling the saliva-coated digits around her swollen bud. She gasped and bit her lip, concentrating on the sensations brewing inside her.

"It's okay, Scully. Lose yourself. Come. It's just me and you." Her and him, she thought to herself. Mulder and Scully.

She came again, the intensity surpassing the last one and making her cry out Mulder's name, maybe God's, she didn't know the difference right now. Her body felt like it did the very first time, every cell blooming in pleasure, her whole body tingling with the waves of her orgasm. Mulder made her feel this way.

He threw his head back and his grip on her hip tightened as he came inside her, not relenting in her thrust in his final act of altruism to give her an unbelievable sexual experience. He'd already succeeded in that by just being here.

Slowly he adjusted her quivering body so he was laying next to her with his arms protectively wrapped around her, placing kisses to her sweaty forehead as she came down from her high. "You amaze me, Mulder," she praised through her sated sleepiness.

"As you amaze me," he returned, squeezing her tighter against him.

She raised her hands up and slid one around his waist and brought the other up to rest on his chest, feeling his thrumming heartbeat under her palm. "I'd like to have a few more sessions with you if you don't mind," she joked, using his arm as a pillow as she rested her eyes.

He placed a kiss to her forehead before laughing, "Anytime. Seriously."

Thank you @jodie-fosters-foster-child for telling me to do this prompt <3