#floor protection sheet near me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sp4ceboo · 5 months ago

Text

Maniac: OT8!Stray Kids x Reader

genre: a/b/o au, omegaverse, medieval au, ot8 x reader, pack dynamics, afab!reader, smut and angst and fluff

summary: you're your pack's only omega - when your alphas are taken from you, you refuse to rest until you're reunited with them

A/N: i loved writing this so come get your food i hope u guys like it <33

tw: 18+, a lot of smut (p in v, bath sex, knots and all that a/b/o shit, mentions of breeding ofc, 1 accidental pass out, oral - m&f recieving, face fucking, so much cum oh god, crying during sex, bit of mxm at points, somno but not much, lots of praise, one instance of finger sucking, manhandling, overstimulation, a spank, no mentioned protection because sorry it's medieval times, back scratching and biting, creampie, reader basically gets run a train on, a few 3some type things, dw there is also soft smut, guys please pee after sex), gore, blood, death, fighting, evil creepy dude, mention of past trauma, swearing, mistreatment of omegas, half assed editing, porn plot 50-50 split i reckon

wc: 12.98k

The moment the heavy wooden door of the smithy splinters and gives way, you bolt upright. Minho is already out of bed, the sheets still warm from where he was lying beside you, and you catch the glint of steel in his hand as he stands by the window, peering out at the street below; Seungmin is gone, his side of the mattress cold. Your heart stutters, and you stiffen at the all too familiar musky scent that permeates the air, rising up from between the rickety floorboards.

‘Goemul?’ You ask.

Minho nods grimly. ‘Who else?’

‘Fuck. He won’t leave me alone, will he?’

‘We won’t let him anywhere near you,’ he replies, voice low and full of anger.

You squeeze your eyes shut when Minho tucks an arm around your waist and presses you to him, pushing your nose into his neck; breathing in his scent - rain and sweet vanilla - you allow yourself a moment of comfort in his strong embrace before breaking away. A crash sounds below, and you grab your staff.

Jisung bursts in. You smell the fight on him before you see the bruising blooming across his face; there’s adrenaline spiking his scent and blood splattered across his front - not his, you note with relief. There’s a wild look in his eyes, the same look you saw the first time Goemul came for you.

‘He’s back, and with more troops,’ he gasps. ‘Chan says - ’

A chilling battle cry rings out, cutting him off.

Ice skitters down your spine. None of your pack are arrogant enough to have a signature war cry - there’s only one person that could be. Minho visibly bristles, his fingers flexing on the hilt of his sword before he shoulders open the bedroom door and you hear his footsteps pound down the stairs. You move to follow, but Jisung grabs your wrist.

‘Chan says you have to go. You need to run.’

You scoff. ‘Absolutely not. This is my pack.’

An edge enters Jisung’s voice. ‘And you’re our omega.’

You give him a look and he can see there’s no way he can convince you - you sprint down the stairs, him hot on your heels. Immediately, the smell of the fight overwhelms you as your feet hit the floor: at least twenty other alphas versus your eight, and a few betas fighting amongst the enemy too. Face twisted fiercely and teeth bared, Hyunjin barrels by, slashing at a stocky, snarling alpha with a rusted sword. It’s one of the ones Felix had scavenged for melting down, and you can see the wooden hilt is rotting.

Without hesitation, you raise your hand, and the attack runes painted there for an occasion just like this glow azure blue, so bright they’re almost white, and the alpha collapses, his heart ruptured in his chest. Panting, Hyunjin glances up and gives you a nod before diving back into battle, aiding Jeongin with the two betas tag teaming him.

You thrust yourself into the melee, fighting with both a sword you snatch off a fallen knight and your runes and staff. Energy begins to flow from you, leaking from your soul each time you use your runes - you’re careful to rotate your usage of the different ones inscribed on your skin, making sure you don’t tire a specific one, yet still you feel the itch of their overuse, and the knights pouring in aren’t thinning.

You catch sight of Goemul through the grappling bodies, and a flash of pure fear rivets you to the spot despite yourself. He’s locked in combat with Chan, but the spike in your scent catches both their attention, Goemul’s roar piercing through the sound of clashing blades. Chan hands seamlessly over to Changbin, and you feel his gaze pinpoint on you as he cuts through any attackers that try to stop him as he approaches.

You try to ignore his insistent stare, instead whacking one of the intruders over the head with your staff and forcefully bringing your knee up into his stomach. Chan is sweaty, his shoulders heaving from the fight, and guilt stings your chest - if it wasn’t for you, Goemul and his pack wouldn’t be here.

‘I thought I told Jisung to tell you to run.’

His voice is rough, raspy no doubt from shouting orders to the boys, and nearly drowned out from the din of the fight, yet you hear him clearly, attuned to the sound of your pack leader’s voice.

‘I wanted to stay and fight. It’s my fault, anyway.’

‘This is not your fault,’ Chan snaps. ‘We all knew Goemul would come after you.’

‘And yet you took me in anyway,’ you mutter.

He gives you a sharp look. ‘You need to run. We’re not going to last much longer. We’re tired, and we weren’t expecting it. We need you to break us out when they take us prisoner.’

You don’t think about the other option, the option that doesn’t include taking prisoners and includes death, instead breathing out an anxious: ‘What if I can’t?’

‘I know you can. I trust you, omega.’

Even in the midst of a fight, Chan knows what to say to put you at ease. He knows what is needed to look after his pack, and you know that he knows this, without doubt. You can see that your alphas are tiring, can see that this attack came as a surprise - Changbin is fighting with a hammer used for shaping swords, for fuck’s sake.

You swallow thickly. ‘I love you, Channie. Keep them safe, please. Keep yourself safe.’

Curtly, he nods. No promises. You turn on your heel and run.

You’ve been told all your life that omegas don’t fight, that omegas aren’t fierce. Omegas don’t retaliate, and they take whatever they’re given by their alphas without complaint.

Too bad that’s all been proven official bullshit.

The night is hostile. Clouds scuttle across the sky, polluting the moon’s pure silver light, and the soggy leaves beneath your feet muffle your footsteps - it’s cold, dark, damp, but you’re kept warm by the hot fury that you’ve been nursing since that night, knotted in a ball nestled right beside your heart.

Leaves are flattened beneath your boots. Wind weaves its way thinly through the tree trunks, singing lowly to itself. The stars are blotted from the sky, the moon a thin, faltering sliver. You walk onwards, staff sturdy against your palm.

Tonight is a perfect night for revenge.

Tonight you’re going to make sure Goemul leaves your pack alone for good, and tonight you’re going to make sure that you’re reunited with your alphas. It doesn’t matter that you’re an omega - you will fight. You can fight.

Your staff is testament to that. So are the attack runes painted in practised calligraphy on both your hands, the black ink winding up your forearms - you’ve added more since your alphas were taken from you, enough to extinguish the possibility of exhausting all of them. There are runes to boil a man’s brain in his skull, runes to explode his lungs even as he draws breath, runes made so you can protect your pack.

You are also half feral with the beginnings of your heat.

Blood rushes through your body, your heart pumping so hard in your chest you think it may punch through your ribs; your pupils are fully dilated, anticipating the fight. There’s a roaring in your ears, and intertwined in the thunderous, earsplitting noise of it is an insistent whisper: protect, protect, protect.

There’s no preventing this timing. Every second you spend without your pack, they could be hurting, bleeding, worse. All the preheat does is give you a vicious edge - the desperation of a cornered animal, the strength of one who has nothing else to lose.

You think this is what your ancestors must have felt, back when there were no cities, no castles made of rock, no swords or books, just the primal urge to hunt and fight and protect. You wonder if they smile down on you. You wonder if they slip silently across the narrow path before you, guiding you with ghostly hands, spurring you forward, closer to your pack, closer to the keep.

Closer to Goemul.

Once, he owned you. Owned you, because he does not believe omegas can belong - they can only be owned. You would spend nights curled on the stone floor, trying to rid yourself of his awful scent, nights where you would stare up at the pitiless rafters - even they smelt like him, wishing you were anywhere but where you were.

And then came Seungmin, carrying with him the scent of warm embers and freedom.

Somehow, here you are again, back on Goemul’s territory. You knew he wouldn’t let you go easily; you are proof to those he crushes beneath his boot heels that there is an escape.

There are two knights posted outside the keep’s wide wooden doors - thankfully ones that won’t recognise you. Faintly, you can hear the sounds of a feast within, yellow light spilling out into the night. Overhead, the clouds coalesce, and something in the air sharpens - the first patter of rain hits the tree canopy, muting your footsteps as you step forward.

‘Halt,’ one of the guards commands. ‘State your purpose.’

‘I’m just a blacksmith, sir,’ you reply meekly. ‘Looking to sell my wares to the lord and his men.’

The other guard grunts, sending a nod to the one who spoke, and swings open a hatch set in the big doors, the hinges groaning in protest. Ducking your head, you step into the great hall: it’s a huge, cavernous room made of rough, dark granite with flaming sconces fixed to the walls and violent tapestries hung between them; it’s where Goemul receives his guests.

Just the sight of the place makes your stomach turn, but it’s the heavy stench of musk that forces you to hide the shaking of your hands in the folds of your cloak. The musk in Goemul’s scent is heavy and suffocating, like a dirty, soaked blanket dumped discourteously over one’s head - nothing like Chan’s.

You glance around the hall. There are about three alphas to every omega in the room; the latter are interspersed throughout the former, either chained or collared - something that you remember all too well. Two lounge on the podium beneath Goemul’s chair, which is really more of a throne with its gaudy ornate carvings, their hands on him, their eyes brimming with fear.

You remember that, too.

And there, in the corner, you see them. Your nails dig into your palms. Your pack. Your pack. Crammed in a tiny cage, chained to a ring set in the wall, curled against each other. Nothing can hide the anger that rises in your scent when you see that Chan has pushed his way to the front, protecting his boys, bruises flowering across his face and neck and arms, dried blood smeared on his tattered shirt.

You know Goemul. You know that the cage is purpose built to hold prisoners used for entertainment.

Unmistakable now, fury soars on you, permeating the smell of the feast, permeating Goemul’s pungent musk.

Slowly, heads begin to turn. They don’t recognise you - you’ve masked your scent with runes scrawled down your collarbones and ringing your wrists, written over twice to hide the smell of your preheat. Still, they stare, with a sort of reluctant curiosity.

‘A blacksmith, my lord,’ one of the guards announces from behind you.

Goemul narrows his eyes, trying to see your face from the shadows of your hood. ‘What for?’

‘Looking to sell her wares, she said.’

He guffaws, and the sound of laughter ripples through those sitting at the banqueting table even though they don’t know what’s amusing him. Slowly, he gets to his feet, the two omegas scrambling to give him space - you see the glint of a chain pulling tight, fixed to the base of the podium. The guard beside you shuffles his feet nervously. Somewhere within the darkened cage, you swear you see someone stir.

‘What wares, guard?’

Gleefully, Goemul inhales like he’s feasting upon the guard’s fear as he realises you carry nothing, just the staff in your hand. You hear his muttered curse, the whoosh of air when he takes in a hurried breath, preparing to spill out apologies, not knowing how this has raised his lord’s wrath so intensely but knowing that he needs to beg and scrape if he wants to live.

‘Leave.’

Goemul’s voice hasn’t even finished ringing through the hall before the guard is tripping over himself to slam the hatch behind him, not waiting to see if his lord will withdraw his mercy. Slowly, Goemul settles back down on his throne, the omegas assuming their previous positions, their hands running over his legs as if to appease his anger.

You let your cowl fall back, revealing your features.

A murmur ripples through Goemul’s men.

He waits until they’re quiet. Around the room, the omegas watch you with wide eyes - you know they recognise you, you know they’re wondering why you would ever choose to return to this cursed place. Nearest to you, one jerks his head a little, as if to tell you to run.

‘I knew you’d come crawling back, my omega,’ he grins, smiling with too many teeth. ‘Although, I guess I do have something of yours, don’t I?’

‘I am not yours, Goemul,’ you hiss.

Lightning flares outside, followed by a strident clap of thunder.

‘Your pack is, though,’ he chuckles. ‘We had so much fun together, little omega. Channie and I are well acquainted now, since we had our nice pack leader to pack leader conversation.’

‘You keep his name out your mouth,’ you snap.

‘He bled a lot, though,’ Goemul muses, faking thoughtfulness. ‘I can’t seem to understand why.’

His dark eyes bore into yours, waiting to see your response. You can tell that he knows his goading is getting to you - he’s smiling that infernal smile, the one that makes you want to peel his skin from his bones and force it down his throat with a dagger.

Outside, thunder growls, low and furious.

You raise your staff. ‘You leave me no choice.’

Eyes locked on his, you bring it down. The oakwood hits the stone floor with a sound far louder than it should be, as if the very rock beneath your feet has split, rended apart down to the Earth’s very core. A muffled whoompf follows, and one by one, the torches in the sconces are snuffed out by an unseen force. Darkness descends.

All around, you sense scents spiking - they may be Goemul’s men, but they still feel fear; you doubt any of them have met someone who wields sorcery, let alone an omega. A hush falls over the hall, loaded with the anticipation before a fight.

‘A little bit of shadow won’t scare us, omega,’ Goemul calls.

You don’t reply. You’re busy stalking silently across the room, a key in your hand. It doesn’t matter that it’s not the one from the ring on Goemul’s belt - it’s covered all over with unlocking runes moulded right into the metal, something you forged yourself.

There’s a tinge of wild anger in Goemul’s voice when he speaks again. ‘Omega?’

When you reach through the bars of the cage, a warm, calloused hand is already waiting. Now that you’re close, you can smell their individual scents, the hurt and the exhaustion on them. Your eyes have adjusted to the gloom just enough that you can see Felix curled against Changbin, and although they’re both smiling proudly at you, eyes fierce, you can see the pain in their faces too. It sets bitter anger roiling within you, as deep and wrathful as the storm outside.

You know Goemul is listening. You hope he is, as the sound of a key in a lock and the clatter of chains rings out through the room. You hope he feels the control slipping through his desperate, clawing fingers as nervous whispers riffle through the great hall, as alphas reach for their swords, disbelieving that Goemul failed to make a single, lone omega submit to him.

And then, low and menacing and crystal clear, Chan growls.

You feel everyone in the hall freeze at the sound. There are no words to the deep rumble vibrating in his chest, just the white hot, primal fury of a leader whose pack has been hurt. Simply the tone of it roots half the men in the hall to the spot, the hairs on the backs of their necks rising, their palms slick with sweat as they stare wide eyed into the darkness.

‘Goemul,’ Chan snarls, stepping from the cage. ‘I swear I will not rest until you are dead.’

The last part comes out as a roar, and with it, chaos descends.

Before the echo of Chan’s voice has even died down, air whooshes past you - what must be Changbin and Minho shooting out of the cage. A strangled cry sounds as they finish off the closest two alphas, wrenching their swords from their belts to fight with. Someone’s hand brushes your waist as the rest of your pack members swiftly exit the cage: Felix, by the gentle scent of violets that washes over you, and yet on it you can almost taste the yearning to fight.

Your alphas are not vengeful. Protective, however, is a different story, and as each of their unique scents spread out across the room, meeting Goemul’s alphas that slash out blindly with their swords blow for blow, you know each of them are thinking of what all of you have gone through under Goemul’s orders.

Above it all, Goemul’s battle cry rings out, but you don’t flinch, don’t bat an eyelash - you’re ready for him this time, fresh runes all over your skin. Your alphas may be injured, but they’ve been cooped up in a too small cage for almost a week and they’re sure as hell fucking angry.

A feverish, clammy hand grabs your wrist. Hot air laced with the stink of ale puffs against your cheek. ‘Witch.’

You take a step forward, stabbing out with the butt of your staff and catching your attacker in the stomach. A throng of them have formed around you, angry and growling and still reeling that one omega has caused this much havoc, their movements uncoordinated and laced with more fear than any of them would ever admit.

Under the low illumination of the lightning strikes, you can just about see they’ve made a ring around you. Maybe they think that their numbers will prevail over your sorcery and they’ve got a quick kill, because some of them are smiling as if the fight’s already over. You almost feel sorry for them.

Almost.

As you strike out with your staff, you think of Chan, welcoming you into his pack, back when all you could do around alphas was flinch - patient, soft spoken Channie, bloodied by Goemul and his men from shielding the boys with his body, half conscious from the violence.

You think of Minho as you break a man’s nose, Minho who said little to begin with but would always be silently checking on you, making sure you were comfortable, leaving you an extra blanket in winter before he eventually slept by your side, his body warm against yours, currently with a split lip and cracked ribs.

You knock a man’s sword from his hand, catching it in your own, and think of Changbin, always there to make you smile and feel safe with his big arms and tight hugs, always acting tough but in truth all soft and gooey on the inside, his knuckles now bloodied and face twisted in pain.

While you cut down another alpha that runs at you, you think of Hyunjin, who calls you his muse, who crafts the most beautiful ornate daggers back at the smithy, and who gave you his favourite one with a sweet kiss on your forehead and a promise to never leave you, painted with bruises that spread wide over his back.

Your stolen blade clashes against an attacker’s as you think of Jisung, your Jisung who never fails to make you laugh, never fails to wrap his arms around you from behind when you need it most, beaten until he blacked out, his eyes almost swollen shut from the bruising.

The runes painted on your palms glow bright while you think of Felix, who baked you sweet treats and wiped your tears every day that they fell, who healed your soul with his sunshine smile, nose bloody and near broken from repeated blows.

Fatigue makes your arm tremble as you swing your sword, but you fight on, thinking of Seungmin, who was the first to find you, the first to plant the seed of hope, always the one who dispels your doubts with the sureness of his words, his head now bowed and teeth gritted to fight to keep down the cry that builds within him from the pain.

Your blade gets stuck between an alpha’s ribs, so you whirl your staff in your hands and think of Jeongin, sweet, sweet Jeongin who would hold your hand after the nightmares, whispering reassurances and holding you until you could fall asleep again, his big hands carding through your hair, bloodied and beaten for nothing but sport.

You fight, and as you do, you think of your alphas. You let the insistent whisper from before rise to become a roar, rise to drown out the sounds of the battle: protect, protect, protect. It burns like liquor as it rushes through your veins, and you find it strengthens you, even as the energy spills from you through the usage of your runes; it guides your blade, guides your staff, ensuring your strikes hit home.

And then, all of a sudden, no one’s attacking you any more.

No one is running at you with swords, derisive words on their lips, no one is throwing punches at you or trying to sweep your legs out from under you so they can kick you when you’re down. You sway a little, half expecting someone to appear out of nowhere, but all the remaining alphas subservient to Goemul are fighting elsewhere or have fled - they weren’t prepared, instead lulled into a false sense of safety within their own keep. There’s a ring of bodies slumped on the floor around you.

Something wrenches in your gut, twisting. A warning: your heat will be upon you soon - the longest you have left is a few hours. Sweat suddenly pricks at your body. You need to finish this, and quickly.

Chan blurs by, exchanging hurled punches and vicious kicks with Goemul. You’re leaning against your staff for support, catching your breath, but as three alphas dive into the melee, clawing at Chan’s back and hauling him off Goemul, and as you spot the two omegas, still chained to the podium and cowering under a half collapsed table, unable to escape, you find you aren’t really that tired after all.

You’re on Goemul within seconds.

He grins. ‘Hello again, my little omega - ’

You punch him across the face. Hard. His head snaps to the side, and you grab his shirt, slamming him once, twice against the hard, unforgiving floor of his great hall, savage red fog hazing your vision, not letting up even when you feel the crunch of his nose beneath your knuckles.

‘You’re stupid, Goemul,’ - you spit the name he’s created for himself - ‘for underestimating omegas. You think you’re destined to lord over us all, when all you are is a fucking scared little pup clinging to control and power you don’t deserve.’

Despite it all, he laughs, and blood glistens on his teeth. ‘You’re driving yourself crazy, little omega. I can smell the heat on you - you can’t kill me if your body needs my knot. All you need to do is to ask for it, sweet thing, and I’ll give it to you.’

Your grip on him falters, and he flips you, pinning you to the floor beneath him. Struggling against his grip, you thrash, your careful runes long forgotten, crimson rolling in like mist over the hills, and something wide and primal yawns open within you - your lips pull back, and you bare your teeth at him, pupils dilating as you lurch your head forward, snapping at his throat.

Goemul dodges just in time, holding you at arms length even as you claw at his face and neck. All you can hear is protect, protect, protect and the hidden voice beneath it saying kill him and end it, make him pay, do it for the pack, for your alphas.

His eyes widen. ‘You’re a maniac.’

You look up, over his shoulder, past him, your laugh chilling. ‘Yes.’

Impossibly, his eyes open further, bulging, and a low, strained gurgle sounds from deep in his throat. Trembling, one of his hands comes up to his chest, and he looks down, surprise and fear contorting his features as his finger gets sliced open on the tip of the blade protruding from between his collarbones.

Goemul’s eyes roll back, and his body slumps over you, deadweight. Dazed, you gaze up at Jeongin, admiring his handsome features, albeit splattered with gore from the fight and covered with a look of disgust as he places a foot on Goemul’s back and wrenches his sword out. It makes a wet, sucking sound as it goes, and your alpha dumps the sword on the floor in favour of heaving the cooling body off you and pulling you into his arms.

Mint and lavender, clean and fresh and soothing, rush at your senses as you take a deep breath in. You’re clinging onto Jeongin so hard that it must be hurting him, but he doesn’t seem to mind, holding you just as tightly to him, burying his face in your neck, his nose right against your scent gland as he just inhales.

Eventually, you jostle him, your senses coming back to you. You need to grab your staff; you can still fight, even though the ink of more than half of the writing on your hands and wrists has flaked off, the exhausted runes leaving light burns in their wake.

‘Where’s my staff?’ You mumble, wriggling in his grip. ‘I can still - ’

A hand smooths over your hair, someone coming up behind Jeongin so they can look you in the eyes from where you’re peeking over his shoulder, searching for the familiar oakwood. You blink. It’s Minho, his eyes soft, hair a mess.

‘It’s over, jagiya,’ he murmurs. ‘You don’t have to fight any more. We’re safe now.’

Eventually, his words echo in your head, beginning to register - over, safe now - and you go limp in Jeongin’s arms, burying your face in his shoulder and letting out a damp, shaky breath, hands fisting in his shirt. Your impending heat burns at your core, pulling you this way and that, but the nearness of your alphas grounds you, keeps you tethered to them.

You have just the presence to reach out to Minho, fingers brushing over his side as the healing runes written around the tops of your forearms flare to life, their glow different from the ones intended for attack - they’re the orangey pink of a rising dawn, like tiny suns pulsating beneath your skin. They begin to burn, uncomfortably hot as you heal Minho’s cracked ribs, then Felix’s nose and Han’s swollen black eyes, followed by all the injuries of your alphas that you can with the energy you have spare.

You’re panting by the end of it, drained. You’ve still neglected some of the less serious flesh wounds, but the well inside of you that was full to the brim with potency when you first entered the keep has run dry. If it weren’t for your heat fast approaching, you might have more energy, but you don’t, so that’s what you’re forced to settle with as you close your eyes and try to stop yourself from wriggling too much in Jeongin’s grip.

‘I’ll take her,’ someone says, and you’re being transferred into another’s arms.

Clean linen and cinnamon, crisp and familiar, crashes over you, and you nestle into Jisung’s arms, trying to absorb his body heat as he kisses your face - the urge to nest is beginning to grow stronger, now that the adrenaline from the fight is leaving your system, and he’s so warm.

Somewhere far away, you can hear Felix’s low, comforting voice as he talks to Goemul’s omegas, and Chan’s too, instructing them and pointing them towards the east wing of the keep - you know at some point, they’ll want to talk to you, but for now you rest your chin on Jisung’s shoulder, closing your eyes and leaning your weight against him. Some of them remain in the hall, putting the bodies in neat piles up against the wall to be buried later or tending to anyone with injuries.

‘We’re going to find somewhere for you to nest now, baby,’ Jisung says into your hair. ‘Hyunjinnie is going to take you while we look.’

Another set of arms wraps around you, lean and wiry and smelling like roses and grapefruit but mainly roses, achingly close, strong enough to make you want to cry. He nuzzles at your neck, his long hair tickling your face and collarbones. Part of you is singing, happy only now that you’re surrounded by your alphas, happy that -

Hyunjin’s tongue flicks over your scent gland.

You know he doesn’t mean to set off anything - he does it a lot, just to calm you or show affection, but you’re teetering on the brink, hanging in the balance, and this is what tips you over. Just like that, your first wave of slick comes, and all of a sudden there’s an insistent ache between your legs. You stiffen in his arms.

‘Alpha,’ you whine, voice small.

Around you, you hear rather than see the boys pause. No doubt their instincts are kicking in, already perked up at the heady spike in your scent, telling them to look after their omega and knot and breed and give you pups. There are the other omegas in the room, too, but even they freeze, affected by the possessive twang rolling off each of your alpha’s scents.

Hyunjin shifts just a little against you, and you feel his hardening cock heavy against your hip. A gasp escapes you, and it’s like the sound of it jolts your alphas back up to the present, because they’re moving again, hurrying, in a slight frenzy as they continue to help move the bodies and organise the rest of the omegas.

The fog of your heat is descending, and the rational part of you hates this timing - you need to look after your alphas, tend to their wounds that you couldn’t heal, but the animal part of you clamours over it, making you squirm uncomfortably, pushing Hyunjin away as you spin around, searching for a place to nest. You breath comes out in gasps: you can’t have your heat without a nest, but you don’t know if there are rooms free, if -

A firm hand sweeps up your back, landing on the nape of your neck and holding it, not quite scruffing you but breaking through your rising panic, making you listen. The scent of cocoa and gentle musk overcomes you, and when you look up at Chan, his dark, authority filled eyes pinning you down, another round of slick gushes out of you, and he smiles a little at your response to him.

‘Pack leader,’ you yip, ducking your head. ‘L - leader, alpha - ’

‘You’re going to be okay,’ Chan soothes. ‘Your alphas are here, okay? We’re going to get you to the bed Changbin and Jisung have found for you so you can nest. Just hang in there, omega.’

‘What about the other omegas?’ You ask, struggling to meet his eyes.

‘They’re in the other wing,’ he replies, then preempts your next words. ‘We’ll find new packs for them; we’re not going to replace you, sweetheart. Just let your alphas take care of you, yeah?’

Gently, he takes your hand in his and rubs his thumb along the scent gland at your wrist. A quiet, needy noise tears itself from your throat, and suddenly your legs are buckling - Chan catches you and scoops you up, one hand cradling the back of your head as he carries you through the passages leading from the hall and into the guest wing.

You’re lowered onto the softest mattress you’ve ever felt. It’s funny how all your time trapped in this keep, you never slept on anything but the cold stone floor - but now, your alphas are here, either still in the great hall, here with you or in what you understand is the bathroom next door, and Goemul’s dead, and you’re safe.

Chan kisses your crown and leaves you be for now as you hurriedly arrange the blankets. The bed is huge, wider than you are tall, yet you still crave your nest at home, items of clothing hoarded from your alphas tucked neatly amongst the bedding you’d padded it with - the sheets here are clean, but devoid of smell. It doesn’t compare.

You sit back on your heels. ‘The nest, it’s nowhere near good enough.’

Seungmin appears by your side, rubbing his thumb over the scent gland in your neck, his lips in your hair. ‘No, omega, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.’

The praise relaxes you, calms you, and you melt into his touch, leaning against him and pushing your face into his side, resting your cheek on his bare skin - like the others, he’d surrendered his shirt for your nest without complaint. His touch is feather light as he strokes your hair, and your eyelids droop a little.

Seungmin pecks your lips. ‘You need to sleep now, before your heat fully hits. We’ll all be here when you wake up.’

He watches you lay down, perching on the mattress so you have an alpha close to you while you fall asleep. Yawning, you curl up close to him. This will be the last proper rest you get until the end of your heat.

You close your eyes, the scent of warm embers washing over you.

You wake up sweating.

The ache between your legs has spread upwards and outwards, and you curl into a ball from the pain of it, eyes blurry as you blindly reach your hands out, searching for an alpha. You can hear yourself babbling, begging for a knot, begging to be filled up, because they’re all right there, curled up on the mattress, surrounding you, but they’re all asleep, all eight of them leaving you here in heat on your own, without a knot, and you can’t think beyond the need; you’re going to implode if someone doesn’t -

Sure hands unfurl you, flipping you so you’re spread flat on the mattress. The weight of one of your alphas traps you in place, and you moan, back arching when a hot tongue slides along the column of your throat, halting at your scent gland and sucking the sensitive skin there.

Sweet vanilla rolls over your senses. His teeth bite and suck at your collarbone, and you groan, head all jumbled with need, your body still locked up from the cramps as you fumble with his boxers, urgency rendering you clumsy.

Mercifully, one of your alphas has stripped you down to your underwear while you were sleeping, and you find you don’t even have the time to take them off, instead hooking your leg around Minho’s hip and grinding your throbbing core down on his hardening cock. Lightning pulses through your cunt at the way his lids half close in pleasure, filling you with the need to please your alpha, to be of use to him.

He tears your underwear off with a flick of his wrist. Your pussy is only getting wetter.

Dipping his head, Minho claims your lips, and the brush of his tongue against yours makes your head spin faster than it already is, your hands coming up to tangle with his hair as his hips roll to meet yours.

‘F - fuck,’ you choke out, jolting when Minho sinks two fingers inside you and scissors them.

His lips travel lower to trace down your sternum. ‘Gotta stretch you out for the boys, jagiya.’

You find yourself squirming a little; his fingers are curling, pumping in and out of you at exactly the pace you normally like, but your body is working itself up to the wild throes at the peak of your heat and you need more, so much more. You tell him so, and he chuckles, kissing you again like it’s going to distract you from the way he’s lining himself up at the entrance of your cunt.

Barely the tip of him is in before you’re clenching hard, painfully hard, scrabbling at the bedsheets and crying his name so loud it’s a wonder the boys don’t stir. He licks and sucks at your scent gland, relaxing you until your muscles ease up and he can move - despite all your slick, you still feel the burn of his cock. He’s stretching you out, just like he said he would.

Agonisingly, he pulls out, just to slam back in again, balls deep, punching the air out of your lungs. Minho fucks you roughly, like you need at the start of your heat, his cock reaching so deep inside you you think he might be in your guts - he’s not fast, just so intense that tears are forming on your lash line and you’re panting, fighting for breath.

Then, he’s forcing your legs up onto his shoulders, and the new angle makes you wail, because he’s destroying your cunt in a way that has your thighs shaking and your chest heaving, pleas for more spilling out of you uncontrollably.

Minho has a way of wringing pleasure from you, fucking you so good that you can’t do anything but repeat his name over and over; you feel yourself suspended on the edge, fire licking up your sides, so close, so close, so close -

Mid-thrust, he pauses.

‘Alpha,’ you scream, voice breaking pitifully. ‘Alpha, please - ’

There’s something half sadistic in his eyes when he looks down at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, teasing as he enjoys the way you struggle, bucking against him desperately, begging like it’s the only thing you know how to do.

‘Sungie’s woken up from all your noise, omega,’ Minho remarks impassively. ‘Maybe you should give him a hand.’

No sooner has he finished speaking than an achingly hard cock makes its way into your palm, and you cast your teary eyes upward, only half there as you witness Jisung’s head fall back in pleasure when you begin to jerk him, because thank all that is good, Minho’s moving again, tearing you apart and putting you back together with those powerful thrusts of his hips.

He’s hitting that spot inside you, and each time he does, paralysing bolts of pleasure shoot down your spine. Your orgasm crushes you with its magnitude, whiting out your vision, and through it, you blindly beg for his knot, beg him to fill you, beg him to stuff you with load after load.

‘That’s right, omega,’ he grits out. ‘Let it all out for me.’

Tears finally spill over, trickling down your face, the pleasure leaving you rapt, brows drawn together and mouth hanging open, and still he fucks into you; you can feel the slight burn as his knot begins to engorge, and you know he’s so close, so almost filling you up.

Your thoughts grow indistinct the moment Minho spills hot inside you, his knot popping into place and locking you together. Jisung comes not a moment later, letting go with a short cry all over your chest, and if you were not full and happy with Minho’s knot, you’d be fretting about the waste. Instead, you close your eyes and murmur a pleased ‘alpha’, fingers brushing lightly over a bandage on Minho’s arm as the two of them begin to lick the come off you.

You must drift off, because when you resurface, Jisung, Minho and his knot are gone, most likely to the bathroom, and instead you can feel Seungmin’s long fingers working lazily between your legs, just enough to take the edge off the bite of your cramps. He’s got your back propped up against his chest, and you wiggle, bucking your hips up into his touch, inhaling the smell of warm embers.

‘What do you think you’re doing, omega?’

You freeze at the dominance in his tone. Remaining silent, you gaze up at him, wide eyed and head full of cotton as he pins you beneath him, the ravenous look on his face making your neck and cheeks flush. You can feel his cock against your thigh, but he doesn’t allow you to move, doesn’t move himself, just stares down at you, waiting.

Slowly, you tilt your head back, exposing the vulnerable expanse of your throat - a display of utter submission. A low whine escapes you when his breath caresses your skin, his nose brushing against your jugular as he inhales your scent.

‘Good omega,’ Seungmin murmurs. ‘Our omega.’

‘Yours,’ you echo, and this time, he lets you buck against him.

Another hot rush of slick leaves you at the friction of his clothed cock against you, and you gasp his name, rubbing your cheek all over his neck and chest, trying to cover him in your scent. He allows it, letting you press yourself against him, desperation soaking your scent, your hands roaming his body urgently, trying to tell him that you need his knot because all your mouth can seem to do right now is say ‘alpha’, again and again and again.

In one smooth sweep, Seungmin gathers your wrists above your head and pins them there. A sound leaves you, so eager and pathetic that your cheeks flush and you struggle half heartedly against him, but he’s yanking off his boxers and running his fingers through your folds to transfer your arousal and make sure his dick will be wet enough. If you stay still, you think you might die.

Yet another round of slick is pouring from you. He chuckles, seeing your cunt clench as he spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his cock - you know he’s doing it to taunt you. Whoever goes first always makes sure you’re prepped.

‘Ready for my knot, omega?’ Seungmin coos. ‘Think you can take it?’

‘Yes,’ you whine. ‘Yes, alpha, yes, give it to me, I can, I can - ’

Your mouth snaps shut when he thrusts into you, your eyes widening and back arching as thrill after thrill races up your spine, making your cunt bear down on him, squeezing him tight and greedily sucking him in further. The moment he starts moving, you know he’s not going to go easy on you.

Seungmin is going to make you earn it.

He releases your hands, letting you grab onto him as he fucks into you, fast, unrelenting. Almost sly, his fingers drag down your stomach so he can rub them over your clit in tight circles - your pussy flutters in response, clamping down on him. A muttered curse escapes him; you can feel every muscle of his back taut under your grip, the vein in his neck beginning to strain, yet all he does is go harder.

Something within you buckles. Not a second later, you come, clenching around his cock, squeezing him so tight he’s forced to grind into you further, your cunt refusing to let him pull out. You expect him to ease up, give you a moment to rest but he continues the moment he can, unforgiving.

Overstimulation sears at you, cutting through the cloudiness fogging your brain, and you yawp, scrabbling at Seungmin’s back, thighs jumping with every drag of his cock against your walls as you rake your nails against his skin in a way that must be hurting his battered, not quite healed body, but he doesn’t shake you off, doesn’t seem to mind.

‘Stop thrashing if you want your alpha’s knot,’ he snarls.

‘W - want it,’ you babble, trying to stay still for him. ‘Need it so bad, alpha.’

‘Then take it.’

He punctuates his words with deep rolls of his hips, and this time you can’t not move, because the pads of his fingers are back on your clit, torturous, creating friction so impossibly blissful that it hurts, and he’s hammering his dick into you, so quick that you can’t form words any more, and then - and then -

Once again, you come, and he slams his knot inside you.

Your back bows, your fingers twisting into the sheets until someone grabs your hand and squeezes it as tightly you are squeezing theirs. It’s not Seungmin’s, you realise - his are too busy propping him up, holding him above you. Turning your head to the side, you smile: it’s Minho, half asleep with his eyes almost closed and a silly little grin on his face.

Huffing, his breath ruffling your hair, Seungmin pokes at your face, bringing your attention back to him. You tip your head up and fit your lips to his, a warm, happy buzz engulfing you now that you’re full, and he lowers himself on top of you so you can lie there together, joined by his knot nestled inside your sated cunt as sleep tugs you both under.

You wake up to cacao and musk, lips closed over your scent gland, gently sucking. Whatever Seungmin’s knot and the orgasms he plucked from you did to appease your heat have worn off, and fast, because you’re sweating all over, hips moving against the firmness below you and you don’t know where you are, just that there are hands on your body and a mouth on your neck keeping back the flames.

‘Leader,’ you mewl, half crazy on his scent. ‘Alpha, need your knot,’

‘I’ve got you,’ Chan croons. ‘Alpha’s got you.’

It begins to dawn on you that you’re straddling his lap, grinding down frantically on his thigh, his hands cool where they coast over your burning skin, smoothing circles over your back. Taking your chin in his fingers, he tilts your face up until you’re looking at him. The moment you meet his eyes, you still, hips hovering over his.

‘You going to behave for me, omega?’

You nod so hard it hurts your neck. ‘Yes, alpha, so good, so good for you. Promise.’

‘Sweet girl,’ he coos. ‘My omega.’

Leaving trails of goosebumps behind, Chan’s hands slide down your torso, down to caress the curves of your hips, down to right where you need him. There’s a moment where he just holds your cunt, fingers pressing between your folds until you break and rock against the heel of his palm, chasing away the building pressure between your legs in favour of momentary relief, wobbly voiced pleas rushing from you as your slick soaks him to the wrist.

Nosing at your throat, he laves his tongue over your scent gland, one hand coming round to grip your ass as he positions you closer to him. When he looks up at you, you see the same haze that blankets your mind clouding his eyes - you must be nearing the peak of your heat for your scent to affect him so. He’s barely holding himself back.

‘Okay?’ He verifies. ‘Can take it?’

‘Y - yes, yes,’ you reply, grinding your hips down despite his steady grip on you, searching for his cock.

That’s all it takes for him to lurch upwards, sheathing himself in your heat like it was made for him. The remainder of the sentence on your tongue dissolves into a keening moan, your lips falling open, eyes unfocused and rolled back; he gives you barely a second to adjust to his thickness before he’s pounding into you, holding you in place above him with his nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

You grab at his broad shoulders, needing something to anchor you with the way he’s jerking your whole body up and down with every punishing thrust. Chan’s fucking up into you like he wants you to forget your own name, like he wants you to forget everything but the surge of his cock through your spasming walls; he’s got you dumb, mouth agape, the sounds that leave you wordless but pleading.

It’s as if your senses have narrowed to the giddying scent of your alpha and the promise of his knot in the snap of his hips against yours - you can’t think of anything else.

Dimly, you realise he’s speaking between the sloppy kisses he adorns your neck and chest with, groaning and mumbling against your skin as his teeth nip at your scent gland, stimulating you in a way that brings century old instincts to the surface - it has you shuddering, nails buried into the meat of his biceps as you twist your head back to bare your throat to your alpha.

‘Good omega,’ he’s gasping, words slurred, reaching so deep inside you all you can do is take it. ‘Made for me, omega - fuck, fuck, squeezing me so well - gonna give you my knot, sweetheart, give you my pups, gotta breed you, gonna - ’

Chan moans so loud it’s almost a howl, slamming you down on his cock to the hilt one last time, fingers furiously working your clit. The hot spill of his seed yanks you unceremoniously over the edge, and you feel your pussy constrict around his knot - he hisses at the feel of it, his chest, mottled with bruises, heaving as he comes down from the high, eyes beginning to focus on you.

Fuck, he looks good, all sweaty and panting and still a bit dazed, his curls ruffled and a dumb little blissed out smile plastered on his face. Tugging you close, he lets his forehead fall against your collarbones, pushing his face between your tits - you giggle as he sighs happily into their plushness, tucking your arms around him and holding him close, sated and so incredibly, wonderfully full.

‘So good for me, sweetheart,’ he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.

You preen at his words, and his hands move up from where they were splayed out on your back to stroke your hair, smoothing it down and untangling some of the knots with his fingers. Curling up as much as you can in this position, you lean your head on Chan’s shoulder, basking in the reassuring presence of your alpha.

Something warm presses against your leg, and you look down to see Jeongin, balled up facing Seungmin with his back pushed up against the length of your thigh, his angular face softened in sleep. Grinning, you brush a hand over his cheek, and he stirs, humming drowsily before settling again.

A hand rubs at the small of your back, and you turn to see that Felix has woken up. Despite the fact that his blonde hair is mussed and he’s squinting against the light of the torches in the sconces on the walls, he’s smiling sweetly at you, gaze bright and soft.

‘Felix, please could you grab that for me?’ Chan’s gesturing to a small platter on the bedside table.

Clambering over a slumbering Minho and Jisung and almost tripping up on Changbin’s outstretched leg, he retrieves it and hands it to Chan, who supports you with a hand on your waist so you can sit back and tuck into the slices of bread and cheese on the plate. You hadn’t realised how hungry you were until now - your stomach rumbles at just the smell of the food.

Through a mouthful, you beam. ‘Thanks, Lix.’

He leans over Changbin to kiss you sweetly, filling your nose with the scent of violets and sunshine. ‘Once Chan’s knot goes down I’ll take you to the bath, okay?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply. ‘I’m all sticky.’

‘My bad,’ Chan chuckles, rubbing his hands up and down your sides and making your brain all fuzzy.

By the time you’ve finished the food, Chan’s knot has come down enough to slip out of you - both of you groan when he pulls out, his come rolling down your thighs. You glance over at Felix and see him watching, and when you look down you can see he’s semi hard and sending you a sheepish grin.

A great yawn splits your face in half, and you stretch your cramped legs as you shuffle awkwardly off the bed, pausing to give Chan a kiss before he scoots down and tugs the blanket over him, nuzzling close to Jeongin. Lifting you up, Felix carries you to the bathroom - Hyunjin looks up from where he’s perched on a rickety wooden stool in the corner, holding something delicately in his hands and smirking.

‘That cavewoman omega in you really likes it when Chan fucks you like that, huh?’

You roll your eyes. ‘Go on and pretend you weren’t hard.’

‘Why are you holed up in here, anyway?’ Felix asks as he helps you into the wooden tub.

‘Changbin was rolling around in his sleep,’ he shrugs. ‘Didn’t want to stab him.’

Proudly, Hyunjin holds up the piece of wood he’s been whittling - it’s a lovely piece of limewood, light and creamy in colour, and it must be a maquette for a sword hilt he’s planning on making, because it’s carved with whorls and flowing arches, as if the wood itself is malleable clay in his skilled hands.

‘I like it,’ Felix says as he helps soap your back. ‘It’s pretty.’

Hyunjin gives him a look. ‘Of course.’

You chuckle. ‘Yeah, Felix, when did he ever make something that wasn’t pretty?’

‘Hey, what about that time when - ’

‘No, it was pretty, you just - ’

Closing your eyes, you listen to the two of them bicker playfully, relishing the warmth of the water and the way it eases your sore muscles - you want to enjoy the momentary lucidity. You’re still somewhere in the highest intensity of your heat, and soon your body is going to want a knot again, even after having Chan’s so recently.

Right on queue, as if just thinking about it sets it off, your scent spikes, and you feel a wave of slick spill from you - it goes straight into the water, but both Hyunjin and Felix fall silent anyway, sensing your need from a mile away.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Hyunjin drags his stool closer to the tub.

Without further delay, Felix shucks off his boxers and climbs in. The water swills but doesn’t spill over, and he takes your chin and kisses you softly, careful not to lean too much of his weight on you; the moment he pulls back, Hyunjin is there, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip before pushing it into your mouth, and you moan around him when you feel the nudge of Felix’s cock head at your entrance.

All three of you groan when he slides in, and you turn your head to the side, unsurprised to see Hyunjin’s slender fingers curling around his cock, his carving abandoned to the side - your eyes glide upwards, locking on his as you suck on his thumb, still resting against your lips, and he visibly picks up his pace, face twisting in pleasure.

Hiding his face into your damp neck, Felix groans, low and deep, thrusting his hips forward until they kiss yours, so close that his pubic bone grinds over your clit. He fucks into you slowly and tenderly, and as he does, Hyunjin hooks his thumb under your chin and crams three of his fingers into your mouth up to the knuckle, grunting when your tongue swirls over them.

You’re still sensitive from Chan, maybe even from the two orgasms Seungmin coaxed from you, and the way Felix’s cock drags through you is driving you insane - almost as much as the praise they’re both showering upon you and the pump of Hyunjin’s fingers in and out of your mouth. Water is sloshing over the sides of the tub with each movement, and it’s as if you’re floating aimlessly, muscles lax and surrounded all over by this warmth.

Hyunjin comes first.

It’s Felix that sets him off: kissing you over the fingers buried in your mouth, his tongue sliding over them before he licks at your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, and suddenly Hyunjin’s coming with a gasp, wrenching Felix off your front by his shoulder so he can spill over the part of your chest that’s above the water.

That’s what makes you come.

The sight of Hyunjin bent double over you and Felix, jerking himself until he’s spent and then some to overstimulate himself, the hand that had been in your mouth gripping the side of the tub so hard his knuckles run white - it’s too much. Your pussy convulses around Felix, and only then do you find your words, gasping that you need a knot, begging for his come.

It’s all too easy for him to give you what you want - more water splashes out of the tub and straight onto the bathroom floor as he seats his knot inside you, plugging his seed in so not a drop is wasted. He flops over you, panting.

‘I didn’t expect it to come back so fast,’ you remark as the three of you catch your breath.

‘So much for the bath,’ Felix laughs. ‘Maybe we should draw another one.’

The next time you open your eyes, it hits you full force. The ache in your core is so intense that all you can do is flail, thrashing and writhing and crying, all tangled up in the blankets which are soaked with your sweat and twisted around your legs, all tangled up in the consuming flames of your heat. There are warm bodies all around you; you can hear their breathing, but none of them are responding, and fuck it hurts -

This can’t be happening again -

You squeak in alarm as someone manhandles you onto your front so quickly that your head spins, holding your arms down so you can barely move - you’re grinding desperately down on the mattress, and you can feel the sheets beneath you grow wet with your slick.

‘Stay still, omega,’ a voice growls. ‘You’re going to push someone off the bed if you don’t.’

‘Alpha?’ You whimper, rubbing your thighs together. ‘It’s not enough, please - ’

‘Binnie’s here,’ he soothes, tone gentler now. ‘Binnie’s going to take care of you, okay? Hands and knees for me, omega.’

Tears of relief trickle down your face and seep into the cloth beneath you - Jeongin’s shirt. You scramble to obey your alpha’s command, only halting when Changbin pulls you in for a quick kiss that leaves you dizzy, as if he sucked the air from your lungs and replaced it with pure, unadulterated need. Squeezing your ass, he fucking bullies you into position, manoeuvring you until you’re face down, ass up.

You fist the sheets in your hands, trying to stay still but he’s taking his damn time. Arching your back, you push back on him, feverish, reduced to the urges of your idiot omega brain that you can’t ignore for the life of you. Your thighs are trembling as he lines himself up, your breath coming out in harsh pants.

With a harsh stab of his hips, he ploughs into you.

You wait for him to move, wait for him to fucking destroy you, but he doesn’t; he just holds himself there, infuriating, playing with you, and you’re wailing and trying to push back onto him more but he’s got you in his iron grip and then he’s cracking a hand down on your ass and you howl and finally -

Finally he’s moving.

Changbin is railing into you, unrelenting. You’re clenching so hard around him, desperate for his knot that your vision keeps blanking out, your voice breaking as you call his name, and surely it’s waking up the boys, but you don’t really care because you need him, need -

‘Need it, alpha,’ you sob, ‘Need it.’

‘I know, omega,’ he grits out. ‘Let your alpha take care of you.’

And then he gives you all you ask. He gives it to you, alright. He gives it to you so that the slick is running out of you and down your twitching thighs, he gives it to you so you’re hoarse from screaming his name - he gives it to you until you feel all limp and boneless beneath him, and still he draws you out, drilling into you like he was born to do it.

Just when you think he might be satisfied, Changbin hooks a hand under your arm and pulls you upright, pinning you against his chest and hitting a new, cataclysmic angle inside you; roughly, he bites down on the spot where you shoulder and neck meet, and his hands come up to cup your tits, pinching your nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through you. He’s fucking up into you endlessly and you can’t even remember if you came already because he’s got you drowning in ecstasy, losing yourself in it.

And then his fingers are on your clit.

You can feel his knot, pressing against your core, so close, so close.

Inside your stomach, something pulls up tight, and you come so hard everything goes black.

You come to about half a minute later, cradled against Changbin’s chest, his knot safely within your cunt, satisfying you, and he’s hugging you to him, kissing every inch of your sweat coated skin that he can reach. He shifts against you when he senses you waking, nuzzling against your scent gland as he kisses a hickey on your neck - most likely from Minho.

‘Are you okay?’ Changbin asks. ‘Did I go too hard?’

‘No,’ you reply drowsily. ‘Was good. So good.’

Your hand meets his, and you smile a little as you twine your fingers together. The scent of roses and grapefruit fills your nose, and you close your eyes at the feel of Hyunjin nestling closer to you, sandwiching you between him and Changbin, your breathing slowing as you drift off.

You’re woken by a puff of air against your clit. Hyunjin chuckles when the muscles in your thigh jitter at the feel of it, looking up at you from where he sprawls between your legs, grinning like he wants to devour you. Whatever you’re lying on rocks to the side, and you bleat in alarm and narrowly catch yourself, glancing over your shoulder to find that your head was resting on Jeongin’s chest, who is now smirking at you, eyes glittering mischievously.

The feeling of two alphas looking like they might eat you does something to your cunt that has Hyunjin transfixed. He licks his lips and you get the distinct sense that he might accidentally pop a knot too soon if he isn’t careful.

‘You two look like you’re plotting something,’ you mumble, trying to ignore the attention your pussy is demanding.

‘Yeah,’ Jeongin confirms casually. ‘Hyunjin’s going to go down on you and I’m going to fuck your mouth.’

‘Oh,’ you say, and this time you can’t ignore the way you clench around nothing.

Hyunjin groans, and you feel the mattress dip a little as he grinds into it. He buries a finger into your fluttering heat, cursing under his breath, and your eyes widen as Jeongin props your head up with a pillow and straddles your chest, his flushed cock nudging your lips. Your tongue darts out, flicking against his head, and he adjusts himself so he’s kneeling over you.

Opening your mouth, you take him as far as you can, and almost like he’s rewarding you for it, Hyunjin’s lips close around your clit. Surprised, you yelp around Jeongin’s length, hips bucking into Hyunjin’s face of their own accord; in response, another finger is eased into your core and you suck in a sharp breath of air.

That’s the moment Jeongin chooses to thrust shallowly into your mouth. You gag and get embarrassingly close to coming - Hyunjin lifts his head, feeling your weeping pussy seize his fingers.

‘She liked that,’ he remarks.

You don’t even get to reply because there’s an alpha cock fucking itself down your throat, surrounding you with the scent of mint and lavender. You’re not sure when you moved your hands but now they’re curled under the backs of his thighs, your nails sinking into his skin as he uses your mouth, and he’s got your hair fisted in his fingers for better leverage - even through the haze of your heat you can see his knuckles are still swollen and cut up from the fight.

He must have been pretty wound up because you can feel him tensing under your palms, curses flowing from his lips as he wrenches himself out of your mouth and basically shoves Hyunjin out of the way. There’s a moment where you’re painfully empty, bereft of Hyunjin’s nimble fingers, and then Jeongin slams his cock inside you, rutting into you once, twice, before he comes, his knot swelling within you and filling you up.

‘So good for us, omega,’ Hyunjin coos, appearing at your side.

Cupping your chin, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on him as he licks into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours. Jeongin pushes him to the side, grumbling and barging him with his shoulder so he can press his lips to your scent gland, sucking a love bite just below it, his teeth grazing over your skin. You giggle at the look on Hyunjin’s face, cute and pouty despite the fact that you can feel his cock, stiff and leaking precum all over your thigh.

While you wait for Jeongin’s knot to go down, the two of them take turns kissing you, Hyunjin sometimes sneaking kisses to Jeongin too. It’s like you’re in heaven: stuffed full and content, with two alphas paying their utmost attention to you.

Finally, Jeongin eases out, and you feel the hot spill of his come - and maybe some of Changbin’s too - ooze from your stretched out pussy. He scoops up as much of it as he can and pushes it right back in, licking his fingers after: your body is wracked by a shiver at the sight, cunt aching to be filled again.

‘Need another load?’ Hyunjin teases, seeing the hungry look in your eyes.

‘Get on with it already, alpha,’ you snark back.

Eagerly, Hyunjin slots himself between your legs, gliding his cock head through your folds a few times before he plunges in. It shuts you up, fast. Throwing his head back, he groans, just a little louder than the wet, sucking sounds your pussy makes as he begins to move; there’s come slopping out of you with each thrust, smearing over the tops of your thighs and his, and he fucks it right back into you until you’re keening, bucking into him.

‘Shit,’ he moans. ‘Keep on fucking doing that, sweet omega.’

Breathless, you obey, rolling your hips to meet his so fervently that your muscles begin to burn, but it’s the good kind, the type of sensation that comes before your legs lock up, trembling uncontrollably as pleasure hits you so hard you go limp.

Pinching and rubbing at your clit in a way that is glorious, Hyunjin dips his head, giving you another kiss that tastes like you, and suddenly, at the touch of his lips to yours, you’re coming, shaking so hard that you’re shaking him. He groans your name, hands tangling in your hair to hold your face to his, and he travels a little lower to mouth at the hollow of your throat.

‘Taking me so well,’ he rasps. ‘Fitting around me just right, omega.’

A little jolt of lightning shoots through you as he lurches a little further into your cunt, coming, and there’s already so much seed inside you that a little bit seeps out around his knot, fat drops slipping down your skin. Sighing contentedly, you stretch your arms above your head as Hyunjin rests his head on your chest. You can feel the dull pain of your heat receding, giving way to a hint of lucidity, and now that the adrenaline is leaving your system, you start to feel aches flaring up all over your body.

Lifting your head, you keep a hand on the back of Hyunjin’s head so he doesn’t slide off you as you search for the familiar scent of clean linen and cinnamon, craning your neck as you twist to check he’s not among the boys dozing on the mattress around you. Just before you call out his name, the door to the room opens, and he walks in, cheeks full with some food he must have raided from the keep’s storeroom.

Jisung sees your face and immediately strides over. ‘Feeling okay, omega?’

You nod. ‘I think it’s almost passed.’

A stab of guilt punches through you. Jisung’s waited his turn, and there’s a chance that if you fall asleep now, you’ll wake up and find your heat has broken. He must smell the worry on your scent, because he leans forward and tucks some of your tangled hair behind your ear.

‘It’s okay, jagi,’ he reassures. ‘This is about you. Rest now.’

You’re already dreaming by the time he finishes his sentence.

‘Are you sure?’ Jisung clarifies again, even though you’re certain he can still smell the lingering honey of your heat on your scent.

‘Yes, alpha,’ you huff, unable to hide the petulance in your voice.

He raises an eyebrow.

‘Please,’ you whine. ‘Need your knot, Ji, please, alpha.’

‘Okay, but you tell me if you’re too sensitive, alright?’

You nod, already bucking your hips which succeeds to do nothing but drag his cock head through your folds. You’d woken up surrounded by Jisung’s crisp linen and cinnamon scent, the low burning need for a knot clawing at your insides, subdued at least by the seven other knots you’ve taken but still insistent enough that you needed Jisung inside you.

A wretched cry leaves you as he seats his cock inside you - he pauses, throwing his head back, biting his lips to stifle a moan - and you feel him twitch from within your squeezing walls. You’re not surprised; he’s been stuck in a keep with his omega’s scent rubbed all over him, the mattress and his pack mates, driving him crazy.

‘Fucking hell, omega,’ he mumbles, nuzzling at your face before he kisses you. ‘Don’t know how long I’m gonna last.’

Jisung begins to move, slowly but deep, a little smile pulling at his lips as he looks you right in the eyes, lacing his fingers with yours where they rest on the pillows beneath your head. He’s gentle, aware that you’re sore, pressing feather light kisses to the hickeys decorating your skin - some of which you don’t even remember exactly who gave to you, your memories clouded by your heat - and slowing his pace if your face screws up or your fingers tighten too hard on his.

Wrapping your legs around his trimmed waist, you pull him closer, crossing your ankles at the small of his back. His hand trails down and begins to rub steadily at your clit, and you feel the stirrings of heaven beginning to rouse within you: your toes curl, and a drawn out whine escapes from your throat, urging him onwards.

Jisung’s fingers speed up on your clit. ‘Come for me, omega.’

You keen as shockwaves run through you, leaving you spent, out of breath, pussy raw. Fractionally, Jisung slows the pace he’s thrusting into you, whispering sweet nothings onto your lips like prayers - your fingers sweep through his soft hair, the rest of your body limp against the mattress as you gaze up at him, eyes glazed.

‘Alpha,’ you whimper - it’s all you have the energy for.

‘Shit, omega - ’

Jisung cums with a gasp, knot locking into place as he trembles above you, trying to control the way he rocks his hips , grinding himself impossibly deeper into you. A tear slips down your cheek and he licks it off, the tender look in his eyes leaving you all melty in his arms.

Your pussy flutters around him, constricting around his knot as he carefully rolls the two of you over for you to lie on his chest, legs curled up either side of him so you can soak up the feel of his skin against yours. His arms wrap around you, and another hand, calloused from hours working in the smithy, brushes over your back before lips press against your shoulder blade.

‘How’s she doing?’ Chan whispers.

‘Good,’ you hum, answering for Jisung and cracking your eyes open a millimetre. ‘Really good. Really tired, too.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m not surprised, sweetheart.’

Minho speaks up, saying something that makes Jisung’s wide chest vibrate beneath your ear with a quiet laugh, but you don’t really hear it at all - your brain feels like it’s made out of cotton, and your limbs feel light and airy, Jisung’s skin so soft it’s as if you’re floating on a cloud.

‘Love you, alpha,’ you murmur.

You don’t clarify, and they don’t ask, but they know you mean each and every one of them.

When you next rouse yourself, you’re fully lucid, and Changbin’s shouting at someone from inside the bathroom. Groaning, you rub your eyes, and a low, tired throb emanates from between your legs - solid proof that your alphas took care of you through your heat, like they always do. You remember it: most of it vividly, some of it in flashes.

Flopping your arms out, you’re met with unpleasantly cold sheets. A frown furrows your brow and you lift your head - now that you’re shaking off the last dregs of your heat and the long sleep that has left a small bit of drool on the pillow beneath your head, you can faintly hear your pack’s voices. From what it sounds, most of them are in the corridor or the great hall, and you can just about pick up other voices too: the omegas you rescued.

You can also hear Changbin, clear as day, muttering grumpily to himself. Snickering, you listen closer, catching something about Seungmin, that little shit and damn towel. You open your mouth, ready to call out to him -

‘Seungmin!’ He yells, so loud you jump. ‘I know you can hear me! Where’s my towel?’

With a groan, you heave yourself upright and pull on the first shirt available: immediately, Jisung’s scent wraps tight around you. Choking on a laugh that you fail to stifle, you shuffle to the edge of the bed and climb off, taking pity on Changbin, while - rolling his eyes so hard it looks like there’s someone behind them pulling them with strings - Seungmin bursts through the bedroom door.

Just in time to see your legs buckle.

He darts across the room and manages to break your fall as you crumple to the floor, muscles protesting. Unfortunately, you manage to take him down with you and he laughs, loud enough for Changbin to hear it and think he’s the one getting made fun of, but with a mischievous spark dancing in his eyes that you know is aimed at you.

‘You’re acting as if you didn’t contribute to this,’ you retort, attempting to pull yourself up.

There’s a steady burning in your thighs, and once you’re upright, you’re wobbling like a newborn calf. Seungmin snorts, knocking you backwards onto the bed and kissing you, fending off your hands as you attempt to punch him in the ribs. Eventually, he lets up, mostly because Changbin has started screeching threats from inside the bathroom that can be heard over your giggled protests.

He sorts out his mussed hair. ‘I don’t regret contributing whatsoever. In fact, I enjoyed it.’

‘You’re always so smug after knotting me, huh?’ You send him a rude gesture.

‘As if you didn’t - ’

‘Seungmin, I swear - ’

Both of you giggle, and Changbin splutters, hearing your laughter. Still chuckling, Seungmin scoops you up in his arms and retrieves a towel that’s been stowed behind one of the pillows, taking his time to open the bathroom door and hand it back to him. Seeing Changbin, his damp hair hanging over his eyes as he grumbles at the two of you, unable to fulfil his threats with Seungmin using you as a human shield, sets the two of you off again.

The sound of your laughter attracts your other alphas. They file into the room, and Chan smiles fondly as he sees you Seungmin’s arms. Jeongin walks over and nuzzles his face into your hair, kissing your earlobe and pausing there.

‘Legs out of commission after being fucked too good, huh?’

‘Jeongin,’ you hiss, slapping his arm. Seungmin has the audacity to high five him.

Chan attempts to hide a laugh. ‘I’m going to ignore that.’

‘Well, you better not ignore Seungmin stealing and hiding my towel,’ Changbin mutters.

Seungmin laughs again, and you get passed to Jeongin while he wards off Changbin, who is still clad in just a towel. Warmth fills you - it’s good to have your boys happy and playful after seeing them taken and hurt by Goemul. You’re whole again now that you’ve got them back.

Eventually, the two of them calm down, and Chan smiles at you in a way that makes your heart swell and overflow in your chest.

‘Ready to go home, omega?’

taglist: @0bticeo @hyunjinsjeans @sleepyleeji @milkslovehotel

fyi: goemul = monster in korean

707 notes · View notes

scudslut · 9 months ago

Note

Fiending for Daryl x F!reader at the point where they're super domestic and sexually comfortable with each other. Like making jokes like "I'll do that thing you like if you take Dog for a walk ;)" and just being super teasing and playful with each other

lazy mornings w/ daryl

daryl x f!reader

wc: 1k

warnings: teasing, slight allusions to sex, mdni

a/n: omfg i adored this idea. thinking about daryl finally super comfortable with you, able to relax and just be himself is just🥹 i hope this is close to what you wanted!! i kinda got carried away in my imagination with this one lol. alsooo, i have a few other requests i’m working on, i promise i’m not skipping anyone’s i just take forever to write:,)

daryl would absolutely love to tease you. he just loved to see that little spark flash in your eyes, reminding him that you want him and he has you.

he was incredibly shy initiating anything sexual during the first couple years of your relationship. and still to this day it’s not often that he’ll outright vocalize his lust, but rather use his actions and subtle, playful remarks that’ll have you ready to pounce on him the first moment you get. the little sanctuary you call home is his favorite place in the world, and it was only ever you who got to see this goofy, mischievous side of him.

and he found he couldn’t help himself, watching you around the house, so casual and domesticated.

you’d play quiet music often on the little record player he’d found, hair tied up in some messy knot, loose shorts and a small t-shirt the only things adorning your soft skin as you read, or cooked, or whatever hobby was interesting you at the time. it brought out intense feelings inside of him, ones he never imagined he’d ever feel and it almost made him giddy. so happy he could provide that safety for you to simply be, and ravenously hungry to devour you whole any chance he got.

it must’ve been sometime in early may he figured. the sun was bright in the sky no later than 6am the past few weeks. mornings still brisk but afternoons hot and nearing swim-worthy. you both rose late that day, having spent a little extra time in bed where the light flooded through the cabin windows, glowing across fluffy sheets and warm skin, simply too soothing to move from right away. he always woke before you and always had to drink you in for a while, admiring how the sun danced through the strands of your wild hair across the pillows. your chest rose so fluently and calmly it made his own tight. he’d ingrain that picture deep in his memory; your vibrant, lively body something he’d protect till his last dying breath.

you had a leg propped outside the blankets, tossed close to his body subconsciously and he brought his fingers to the soft skin of your exposed thigh, painting invisible shapes. it only took a few minutes before you started mumbling sleepily as he dragged them upwards, towards your inner thigh.

“mmm, good morning,” you breathed softly, eyes still shut but a lazy smile gracing your features.

“mornin' sunshine,” he drawled, leaning down to press light kisses over his artwork. “sleep alright?”

“mhm, you?”

he nodded against your skin. he always slept well next to you, especially now he had you all to himself; your little hole in the woods providing much-needed peace and solitude after all the years without. just you, dog, and acres of tall green trees.

speaking of which, he noticed the door creaking open behind him as he placed more nips and kisses, paws padding across the wooden floors at the sound of your voices finally awake.

his tongue dragged up, grazing over the hem of your panties. your hips shifted beneath him as you moaned softly. “can we make it an agreement that you always wake me up like this?” you gasped when his hands joined in, massaging your plush hips with strong hands.

he snorted at that, “i already always do.”

“mm, right,” you muttered quickly distracted as your hands found purchase on his soft brown locks. your morning brain never failed to amuse him. you’d mutter nonsense half asleep, sure to barely remember when you fully came too.

his fingers were just slipping under the waistband when dog whimpered quietly behind you both. a smirk cast over his face, already hearing your whines of dismay at what he was about to do.

“think somebody needs a mornin' walk,” he pulled away with a kiss to the little bow at the hem. a low groan followed in suit just as he expected and he chuckled slightly.

“D… just a few more minutes.”

but he was already dragging his body off the mattress, grabbing a random strewn shirt and pulling it over his head.

“such a tease, dixon,” he heard from the bed, turning to see you propped up with a phony pout. the corners of his eyes crinkled in a grin at your state, hair wild from sleep, and cheeks flushed pink.

“how bout this,” he bargained, leaning back down to peck your ankle and slowly up your calf. “we take him out quickly, and then i’ll bring ya right back here and let ya have yer way with me… sound fair?”

he watched as you feigned contemplation.

“come on, look at that face,” he pointed to dog, who sat patiently at the foot of the bed, tail wagging.

“never thought i’d get cockblocked by a dog, but, alas,” you sighed, trying your best to cover the grin on your face.

daryl bent over, shielding dog's ears. “hey! he can hear ya y’know,” and there was so more hiding your grin, giggles escaping your lips in fit.

he’d never seen you move so fast after that, speedily throwing on a top that barely covered your ass and rushing to the front door.

“come on doggy boy! your dad and i have a date, we gotta make this quick,” you mused loudly through the house, dog chasing after you.

he couldn’t help but shake his head in laughter, following after his family blissfully. this was definitely his favorite place in the world.

sorry i’m so cheesy byyee❤️

1K notes · View notes

fictionismyreality3 · 3 months ago

Text

I Can Fight (18+)

Simon Riley x Reader

Tags: Smut, boyfriend!simon riley, possessive!simon riley, 141!reader, kinda dark!simon riley, established relationship

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, slightly controlling behaviour, it’s kinda toxic but like also not, military stuff??, clubbing, drinking, violence, choking, slight impact play, SHAMELESS SMUT

Notes: the side eye he’s giving in this photo is diabolical 😮‍💨

There was something about watching you dancing around in the tight red dress Simon bought you that satisfied the primal, caveman part of his mind. Going to the club after a long mission had begun to become a routine for the squad, and Simon never had a reason to attend before.

Not until you.

He salivated as he sat at the bar, his eyes constantly trained on your figure as you moved and grinded against any random person near you. Every hand that someone laid on your hip made his jaw tick and his cock bulge in his jeans. It was a little game you liked to play with each other. Simon still remembered the first time you were in his bedroom standing in front of his mirror, two dresses in your hand.

“I don’t know, the blue one kinda shows my ass.” You hesitated. “Wear wha’ever the fuck you want, luv. I can fight. I’ll rip the cock off anyone who touches you.”

The initial protectiveness he felt quickly evolved into a feral need to keep you all to himself, and you were just as bad as him. It was hard to tell when the lines blurred, but soon you were going out of your way to make Simon jealous, and every night out ended with him beating the shit out of some random guy.

It was wrong. It was fucking sick, really. But, the look in Simon’s eye when he came back to loom over you and grab you by the throat made you want to let him fuck you right there in the club. And the sex you had when you got home was the hottest of your life.

And that’s how Simon found himself sitting on a barstool, his legs spread to accommodate the way his cock was straining against the fabric of his jeans. He could see your eyes darting to him as you rolled your ass back against a scrawny looking guy. He could see the way you ran a hand down the front of your body just to tease him. He’d let you have your fun for a while. Then he’d come over and punch the lights out of the fucker who was touching you.

God, you were such a pretty thing.The little red dress you were wearing was tight enough to be a second skin. The collar dipped down to reveal a frankly whorish about of cleavage, but he didn’t mind.

You were his good little slut.

But he’d had enough now. A low grumble went through his chest as his pushed himself off the bar, following you as you led the guy out of the club and to the alley behind it. Just like you’d discussed. He stood in the shadows, palming himself through his jeans as the man started to try and press himself into you. Simon cupped his cock, liking the burn of the fabric he got when he rutted into his hand.

But then the fucker tried to kiss you and he saw red.

Your little game was suddenly over, and Simon was ripping the guy off you with a snarl. Heat flooded into your pussy, and you were clenching your legs together as you leaned against the wall and waited for him to finish. The man’s desperate pleas slowly turned into panicked gurgling noises, he went limp on the pavement. Simon gave him one last shake and then he was coming over to you.

“Look at you. So fuckin’ pretty f’me.” He shuddered, running his nose from the dip of your chest to your jaw. “You like dressin’ up f’me, luv?”

Simon drew a breathy moan from your lips as he slid his fingers under the hem of your dress. “Like watchin’ me break who ever touches you?”

Your back hit the sheets, the scent of Simon engulfing you with a dizzying intensity. His hands tugged at the fabric of your dress, pulling the fabric apart so it ripped by the seams. Suddenly, your red dress was on the floor, the only sounds in the room were your whispered pleas and Simon’s grunts as he fumbled to pull his cock free of his jeans.

Running a thick finger through your folds, he collected the wetness and forced it into your mouth. “Just couldn’t keep y’self together in the car, huh?” Shaking your head dumbly, you sucked idly on his digit while he began to stroke himself. “Si, please give me your cock.” You moaned, the words muffled when he suddenly shoved another finger down your throat, the intrusion making you gag.

“Gonna be a good girl f’me. Gonna take my cock so well.”

You were such a pretty thing, already needy and messy from how he’d teased you in the car. It was impossible for Simon to stop himself from just shoving his cock inside you all at once. The thickness of him split you open, a hoarse cry ripping through your throat as you clutched at his shoulders. God, you were such a needy little girl.

Simon drew his hips back, lazily pounding his cock inside you again and again. “Tha’s it. Take me so well.” The tip of him brushed against your cervix and he silenced your mewling with a slap to the thigh. Rough and calloused fingers gripped the flesh, tugging your legs up so that they were over his shoulder. “Gonna pound this sweet lil’ cunt.” A darker and more twisted part of him relished in the way you begged for him to slow down.

“Fuckin’ scream f’me.” He growled in your ear, threading a hand through your hair so he could angle your neck to the side. The delicious burn of his teeth sinking into your skin had you clenching around him. “Oh f-fuck, luvie.” He gasped, his hips stuttering before he was slamming his cock inside you relentlessly.

“You’re mine.”

“Mine t’fuck. Mine t’love.” One hand reached between you, rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit. White-hot pleasure sent you jolting underneath him, squirming around and trying to get the overwhelming bliss to stop. “Stay fuckin’ still.” Simon growled, his hand wrapping around your throat.

Simon watched you go all dumb on his cock, your eyes rolling back in your head as you clawed at his hand. He only tightened his grip further, his cock so hard he felt like he might explode. The way you were tightening around him, the way your lips parted, every little sound you made sent him spiralling.

The sound of skin hitting skin filled your shared bedroom, Simon’s balls slapped against your ass with every thrust. “No one’s ever gonna touch you.” He rasped, his own movements getting sloppy.

“Gonna cum real hard f’me?” The only response you could give was frantic nodding and little squeaks with the way he was constricting your airflow. “Gonna- oh, fuck. Gonna make me proud?” Everything felt amplified, and Simon felt drunk, dizzy off the haze of your perfume. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, sucking greedily against your pulse point. “Give me tha’ pretty pussy.”

You could hear every tortured noise he made in your ear, and Simon could feel the way your cunt was fluttering around him. “C’mon, dovie, make me- christ, make me cum inside you.” Your nails raked down his back, leaving trails of desire in their wake. You couldn’t breathe, you could barely see, all that existed was Simon. And then he pinched at your clit and you were falling.

“Oh, atta’ girl.” He groaned. “Good girl, good girl.. gonna make me-” Hot, thick ropes of cum spilled inside you. Simon’s eyes rolled back into his head and he bit down on your neck, letting out a deep, raspy moan. Before you could catch your breath, two large hands wrapped around your waist, flipping you over on the bed. You head was pushed down into the pillow, Simon gripping at the flesh of your hip to tug your ass up into the air.

“You don’t think m’done with you yet, d’you, dove?”

#simon ghost x reader #simon smut #simon riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon ghost x you #ghost x f!reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost smut

515 notes · View notes

spurbleu · 5 months ago

Text

lassitude ✩︎‧︎⁎︎

[ken sato x afab reader]

S. the first time you are vulnerable with Ken Sato, you are half asleep. and for the first time, he is willing.

warnings: none, split pov

a/n: sorry for my lengthy absence, it got extremely busy for me lmao. i dont really like this- but i feel like i cant do much to make it better so here it is

word count: 1.7k

࿓༚︎︎‧⁎︎✳︎⁎︎‧︎༚︎࿓︎

The mumble of the morning stirred you from the pockets of your mattress. It was barely noticeable- the shift of the comforter- cool early air pooling between the hairs on your arm. The faint creak of the floorboards, (never good at keeping secrets) the spruce mumbling an Irish goodbye.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t see it coming. The sight of him.

Skin relearning to stretch over shoulder blades, peeking through your lashes in familiar foresight. The way his hands searched for his clothes through the birth of daylight- its first breaths placid against the bedsheets.

It all felt too beautiful- the apathy. Buried in lithe, lifeless blankets rather than the rhythm of his pulse, the plush of his embrace. The sudden emptiness of morning’s coffin, quilt seams ripped by the assumption that a goodbye wasn’t necessary.

Ironic- for how lonely the man seemed to be, he looked lethargic in the act of leaving. Near comfortable as he dressed, relief from the reclusive slump of his posture breaching a harsh breath that left the gaps of his teeth.

You were more awake now- enough to question why you cared.

He made it easy- cleaned up half the mess, took the other half out the door. And when it was time to ruin it again, he did it with kindness- gentleness in his absence. There was nothing you should’ve resented- he was doing you a favor. But you found yourself hating it more.

You knew it wasn’t a superiority complex- you were near equals as you slept next to each other. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you, because you knew within the next 12 hours, he’d be back again, pale in the face of his own affair.

Confounding. The principle that if he knew he was going to come back, why leave at all?

It struck you then- the putrid smell of your own confusion. The anger you held in the bed of your heart, fueled by the weak and needy creature of your own vulnerability. Its chubby hands wringing the veins that curled around your ribs. It spoke for you.

“Ken.”

It was weaker than you thought it would be- no louder than a whisper. At first, I didn’t even sound like his name- only a pathetic mumble that spelled out his silhouette. It became a bit more tangible, louder, when he turned to face you.

“Good morning.”

He slung his bag over the dip of his shoulder, dressed in the clothes from last night. They were wrinkled now, creased in the same shape as your bed, your floor, your home. It was hauntingly poetic- how he seemed to carry you with him in the quietest of ways.

A crease formed under the base of his lips- a smile. Still dry in early hours- complimenting the tanned sections of his jaw- spring kisses breaking the occasional sallow of his face. It was small, but under the shadow of his tousled hair, it looked near blinding.

(But that was Ken for you, wasn’t it? Blinding. Bright in the ways that make the air in your nose cold- fresh. Humane.)

“…Do you…need something?”

Fuck.

You should’ve followed the script. Typewriter font, black indifference, pretending to be asleep when he crept out the door. Feigning casual when reading the ‘text later’ note he’d leave on the counter of your kitchen, next to a day old, crushed protein bar (although, it would always be your favorite flavor).

But instead, you sat curled into the headboard of your bed, sheets protecting your fluttering gut as sleep fogged the more cohesive thoughts. It peeled back, though, the sensitive ones.

You wanted him to stay.

Although it felt like the first time you had admitted it to yourself, you found the blemish of your confession everywhere.

The pucker of your carpet beneath his socks. The indent on the left of your mattress- matching the round of his shoulder. The cool breath that escaped your lungs- collapsing against the rim of your heart.

And in the brevity of nerve, the one that spoke his name with so little foundation before, you answered him.

“Stay.”

࿓༚︎︎‧⁎︎✳︎⁎︎‧︎༚︎࿓︎

It’s the tilt in your voice that curves under his adam’s apple in a slow gulp- dry. The softer tones blooming under your tongue, coloring your bottom lip in a nude pink- stainless and genuine. Your lash line drooping into a word that looked foreign to the valley of your cheekbones.

Please.

He mirrored you. The slow breath that hollowed ribs, the sharper edges of his shoulders bending to the will of your own. Even his smile began to falter into the same wary, desperate line that creased the corners of your cheeks.

The effortless effect you had on him.

He knew it was happening, somewhere in the canyon of his bone. Mind disconnected from the marrow, as the better parts of him seemed to reflect every vice of yours. Although it was maddening, conscious clawing at the cushion of his skull, he had learned to embrace it.

Held it as he cradled you- bow of your spine splitting his chest in two- revealing the plusher parts of him, affection safely shadowed by the midnight and your snore. (He’d never admit it to you, but he sleeps better in your bed than he does his own. Although Mina suggests it’s about the company rather than the mattress).

Similar to your aftertaste, he was familiar with your vulnerability- a lot worse at hiding it than you might think.

The haphazard stack of protein bar wrappers in the trash (ashamed to say he counted, once. You’ve eaten every single one he’s given you). The grip on his sweatshirt when you pull him through your door- flushed fingertips eager on the cool metal of its zipper. Even while you sleep your body betrays, burrowing yourself into him as if somehow, you’ll leave a mark (equally ashamed, but just a bit more hopeful, he wants you to).

Selfishly, he loved it. How much you made him feel wanted- needed, even. How the cage of your chest opened for him, his nails the shape of a key as he dug into the softer parts of you. Grime dyeing cuticles red, and he’s convinced that if he asked to crawl within you, you’d let him.

Reluctantly, if so. Looking away, pink on your cheeks, spurred by the flash of his teeth. Unwilling to admit he had asked you before you could have offered.

A begrudging devotion.

He swallowed it, syrup sweet against the cast of his teeth.

“You want me to…stay?”

He let his bag drop to the floor, relishing that as he took a step closer, knees to the bed, the center of your throat bobbed. Contrast to your bold request, a shyness in the creases under your eyes and mouth. It reeked of yearning, and made an illness bloom on Ken’s tonsils.

You nodded slowly as he came to lay next to you. If he listened more closely and focused less on the cross of your arms, he would have heard your heart pulsing a morse that sounded dangerously, sweetly, like his name.

“Yes.”

“Why?” Classical, predictable, the way his smirk warmed the edges of his lips.

“Because you never do…” anxious- eyes searching excuses for the lack of a real answer- “…and the protein bars are getting old.”

A genuine laugh furrowed the flesh beneath his collar bone, morning voice still breaking from the aridity of unuse. “What if I left an apple this time?”

You leaned into his chest, pulling the covers to your shoulder. God, did you look good like this. Tucked into him, a little wanting, a little kind. “You’re so boring. If you’re going to leave, at least give me something good.”

Ken placed a hand to his wounded heart. “Boring? Since when is your favorite flavor of healthy boring?”

You sank back onto the mattress, and he followed you, now facing you with his hands folded under his cheek, squishing his dopey smile. Although he didn’t know it- he looked beyond childish- silly in all respects. But that’s what you liked about him, wasn’t it?

“Since the last 200 times.” You exaggerated, imitating him as you leaned on your own hands.

He searched you- not dissimilar to the way he accesses another player. The gate of their shoulder, the click of their jaw- or that slight competitive crinkle that tugged the corners of their lashes- angered by his run before he even hit the ball.

Being in the sport for so long, he had become accustomed to observing others- even from afar. Off the field, he’d find himself looking between the normalcy of strangers under the dark tint of his sunglasses. Envious- to live in blissful ignorance at their own open, bleeding hand.

He supposed that’s why he liked you. Equally as guilty of your own susceptibility- heart on your wrist. But goodness- even this close to you, he couldn’t read the glass over your eyes. As if you were those paintings behind velvet ropes- details clear from a distance, but fogged when you stand too close. Imperfections visible- but never telling.

(did Michelangelo find the Sistine Chapel just as beautiful from the floor as he did from his ladder?)

He hummed, a hand coming to trace the spring freckles that appeared on the plain of your cheek. His heart purred as he watched it bloom, every circle he drew spurring ripples of pink. He was so charmed- to see exactly what he did to you- so closely.

“Alright,” his hand drifted to the strands of hair that covered your ears, tucking it to see just a little more of your blush, “no more protein bars.”

You sighed against his face- and for a moment he was reminded how he had been there- on your lips. The stench of his own fervor- honey sweet between the cracks of its clay.

“Thank god- I was really getting sick of them.”

In his arms, you both dipped into a lullaby of silence, the sunrise cradling the fragile parts of your embrace. Those pockets of insecurity- the questions of why you asked for him to stay, and why he did. The looming assumption that this made you more than what you had been before- made you something, made it different.

You could have spent hours there, steeping in the change- elementary kids too scared to admit they ‘like-liked’ each other. Instead, you both fell asleep again.

࿓༚︎︎‧⁎︎✳︎⁎︎‧︎༚︎࿓︎

When you awoke- you were alone.

Once you slipped out of bed, it was well past 11. Your light feet and sweltering head brought you to the kitchen counter- where you found a plate of eggs, toast, coffee, and a note.

----

Home Soon.

-Ken

ps. hope this is better than the protein bars.

#ken sato x reader #ken sato x you #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato x you #ultraman rising #ken sato #kenji sato #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot

574 notes · View notes

loganhowlettshousewife · 2 months ago

Text

animal

chapter 3

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of sex, non-sexual nudity

series masterlist │my masterlist

logan sleeps in your bed now. night after night you found him on the hard floor, until you couldn’t deal with the thought of him being so uncomfortable just because he wanted to be near you. so you forced him into your bed, though you’re not sure if forced is the right word to use given how willingly he slipped in next to you - as if he’d done it a million times before, as if it was normal.

he’s a walking heater - you swear there’s a fire burning under his skin, working through his veins to spread throughout his body. you naturally run cold, you always have, so cuddling up to his warmth is a luxury. even in the beginning, when you didn’t want to fall asleep in his arms for fear of what it would mean for your relationship, you would wake bundled up in his arms, safe and protected and wanted in a way that made you never want to leave the bed.

it’s nice, really nice.

and it simultaneously sucks, because you’ve started having dreams of logan, of kissing him, calling him your husband, watching him rock a baby. and you’ve had other dreams too, the ones you’re sure logan can smell on you, with his advanced senses. he’s always awake watching you when you wake up from those dreams, his body still curled against yours, hard dick pressed against you. but he never does anything.

it’s horribly endearing. he’s obviously affected but won’t leave you, knows how much comfort you’ve found in his arms. so he grits his teeth and bears it. despite being half-animal, he’s more of a gentleman than most of the men you’ve met.

and you love knowing that you affect him, knowing that your feelings for him are not completely one-sided, even if you can only be sure of the physical component. when you leave the room to start on your morning routine, he stays behind.

you can’t be certain, but you imagine him taking his dick in his hand, stroking himself to completion, hard and desperate and quick, muffling the sound of his groans with a hand pressed to his mouth.

you’re not used to being woken up like this, however. logan hovers over you, face twisted into a snarl so full of hatred it brings tears to your eyes. his claws are out and have ripped holes in the sheets and the mattress, locking you in a makeshift cage.

his eyes are glazed over, like he’s not quite present in the moment. he’s somewhere else right now, lost somewhere in his mind where you can’t reach him.

this isn’t a slow awakening where you can take time to blink the sleep from your eyes, letting them flutter shut for two more minutes to enjoy the bliss of being not-quite awake. the adrenaline hits you hard and fast, your heartbeat pounding loud in your ears.

you’re trembling, can feel it with every breath you take, shaky exhales and sharp inhales. you’re careful not to make any sudden moves, worried about what logan may do to you.

you know him, know he wouldn’t hurt you. but he doesn’t see you right now, you don’t know who or what he’s seeing in your place. but he’s never looked at you with these eyes, with this level of anger - in fact, you can’t remember a time when he’s truly been angry at you. scared, cautious, tense, maybe. but not fury like this.

“logan,” you whisper.

the sound has barely left your throat when he pulls one clawed hand away from the mattress, tearing more of it in the process, before punching his claws towards your chest. you cry out, instinctually, and that snaps him out of it.

you feel the sharp sting of his metal claws dragging over your skin as he pulls away. it’s only a scratch, and not a terribly deep one at that. you’re used to small injuries, pricking yourself in the garden or accidentally cutting your thumb while cooking or any other stupid way to draw blood to the surface of your skin.

but it’s not the pain that matters, it’s the thought that if it took him a second longer to break out of his nightmare he could have pierced your heart, killed you.

“logan,” you ask, shaky, “are you okay?”

he’s staring at you, eyes wide and frightened, but the hatred that was there is gone. his claws retract back into his skin. he nods, slow, never breaking eye contact with you.

and then you burst into tears.

you can’t stop, your cries hysterical. logan sits on the bed, moving away from you with every cry that rakes your body, but you grab at his arms desperately, needing him. somehow, despite logan being the reason for your fear, he’s the only thing you want, your mind calling out his name like a prayer.

he hesitates to touch you at first, but you beg him with a broken “please”, and then he’s all over you, pulling you into his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck. he kisses you softly on the skin there, a habit he’s taken up that you don’t mind. you probably should mind, but you’re unable to care about that when it feels so right.

you fall asleep crying in his arms, the exhaustion pulling you under. you wake up again with the sun, logan looking haggard and pale, still holding you. it seems he didn’t fall back asleep when you had.

your throat feels raw from crying, and you can feel the tear tracks where they dried on your skin.

“what was the nightmare about?” you try to ask him.

he shakes his head, every line around his face pulled taunt, “no.”

you’d expected such an answer, something short and succinct where he refuses to lay his problems on you. still, you’d hoped he might share some information, even a sliver of his story that could help you help him.

you’re still worried about logan, but there’s not much you can do if he won’t speak to you, so you leave the bed to wash the dried tears from your face. you go on with your routine as usual, keeping a closer eye on logan, waiting for possible signs to help you uncover the mystery of whatever the fuck is happening with him.

there are none, of course - he’s very difficult to read when he wants to be.

he doesn’t touch you as much, a step further behind you than usual. but otherwise his behaviour doesn’t change too greatly. he’s still sweet and grumpy and lovely.

you teach him how to cook your favourite breakfast foods, and to your surprise, it comes naturally to him. he works by your side like he’s always been there, listening to your instructions perfectly every time. the cuts on your chest still burn slightly, but simply feeling his presence by your side makes everything better.

you’re reading a book on the couch when logan returns from hunting. he never brings anything from his hunt into the house, for which you’re grateful, but he does drag in a lot of dirt.

you have a routine by now, or at least the bones of one. he likes it when you help him clean up after a hunt or a run in the forest, and so do you. it’s the kind of moment you imagine you’d find in a book, with a couple so deeply in love that they can hardly stand to be apart for a second.

you’re still not completely comfortable with the idea of stripping naked in front of him, but logan has no such qualms. in the bathroom, he pushes his pants and boxers down in one motion.

you blush as he steps into the shower, so unashamed of his body. there’s a wild edge to him that you notice more in moments like these, where you realise the impact of not having those human memories, the socialisation that teaches you to dislike yourself, teaches you that confidence is a negative thing, makes you vain and egotistical.

the water soaks him in an instant, flattening his cute hair tufts against his scalp and you giggle at the way he looks like a wet kitten, though less disgruntled.

he tilts his head expectantly, waiting for you. his gaze is dark and heady, intense as you pull off your shirt, leaving you in only a bra. your face warms as you take off your skirt next, watching logan’s face the entire time, the way his eyes linger on your panties for a long, long moment.

it’s not the first time you’ve undressed in front of him, but every time the effect is the same. warmth pools in your stomach, a mix of arousal and nerves. he’s intoxicating, and that’s terrifying to you.

you don’t take off your bra and panties. they feel like armour, protecting you from being fully defenceless in front of him. it’s not like he couldn’t see the full shape of you, every curve of your body, the parts that you love about yourself, that make you smile at the mirror, and those you hate.

still, it makes you feel like the one in control - he’s completely naked and you’re not - though you know that he’s larger and stronger than you, that really he’s letting you be in control of the situation, not moving too much as you wash the blood and grime from his body.

he cares so much about your comfort. sometimes it makes you want to cry.

“you, now,” he grunts.

“what?”

you’re taken aback at the break in the quiet. it always shocks you a little when he speaks, his voice rough from disuse.

“i will clean you, now,” he gestures at you and you laugh nervously, taking a step back, as far as you can until you hit the tiled wall. it’s not a very large shower, there’s not really anywhere to go.

“logan,” you whisper, heart in your throat, “no. not right now, okay? finish up your shower, i think- yeah i’m going to go now.”

you practically run out of the steam-filled bathroom, feeling like you’re going to collapse at any second. the thought of him stripping you out of your remaining clothes, unclasping your bra, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, his hands running over your body, even for something as innocent as washing you, something you’ve done with him a dozen or so times.

you’re having enough sex fantasies about him as it is, you don’t need to add more fuel to the fire. and the thing is, you want it. you want him. you want those fantasies to come to life. but you can’t help but fear that logan’s only clinging to you because you’re the one who found him when he was at his most vulnerable.

when he goes out into the world, whether that’s sometime soon or if it takes years, will he start to resent you? will he find someone better? will the soft intimacy that’s been growing between you collapse like a house of cards?

you’re in your bedroom, laying on top of the sheets, staring up at the ceiling when logan enters.

“you’re upset?” he asks, and at the tone of his voice, the pain that you hear reflected in each syllable, your head turns his way. he looks devastated, like the idea that you might be upset at him is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him in his life. you’re very certain that’s incorrect.

he looks so innocent like this, not a wild animal with claws that rip through flesh like butter, but a man, anxious and unsure and pleading. you can’t help the smile that rises to your lips. you shake your head as much as you can against the mattress and reach your arms out towards him, a wordless beckoning.

“never,” you say.

within moments he’s in your arms, hugging you tight, his face pressed into your chest. it’s nice, the solid weight of him, like a very heavy weighted blanket. minutes pass, and then logan shifts his body just enough to look up at you.

he makes eye contact with you, and in his eyes you see a raging storm. his face is blank as it often is, a mask that you can’t read, but you can feel his muscles tense as if preparing for a fight, can catch a glimpse of several different emotions in the hazel staring back at you.

he leans up, until his face is barely a centimetre away from yours, and your breath catches. you’re scared to hope, terrified, even if all signs point in one direction, so you don’t move closer but you don’t move away, eyes fluttering shut as if it’ll all become easier, as if the butterflies in your stomach will recede, if you’re not looking directly at him.

he closes the distance between you, mouth meeting yours in a chaste, soft kiss. it’s nothing like you expected from logan, feral and intense in everything he does. but he’s waiting for a response from you, scared in the way you’ve only ever seen him once, when you’d first found him in the barn.

he pulls away and you grab onto him desperately, forcing him to crash back into you. you share open-mouthed kisses, hot and urgent yet so loving. it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed about, perfect in the way little else can be, and you feel tears prickling in your eyes, a sob catching in your throat.

you’re absolutely fucked, your heart stolen by him, and you can only hope logan meets you where you are and doesn’t hurt you.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist

if your name is in white it means i couldn’t tag you for some reason. i’m very sorry :(

266 notes · View notes

pboogerswbb · 5 days ago

Text

SO IT GOES - prologue

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, none Wordcount: 5.6K A/N: LILA IS BACK with a new series. this is the prologue, purely here to give people an insight to our oc Izara (who i already love btw), so not as much paige here, but she will make a much bigger entrance come first chapter of the series. again, ty so much for everyone who hyped this up based solely on the synopsis i wrote and ty for your support! i am so excited for this series you guys don't even know!! this one will be a looooong one so buckle up

Passport? Check. Silk pillowcase? Check. Laptop? Check.

The list seemed to go on and on, filling out three sheets of paper, both front and back. Some people called it excessive but to me it was necessary. It was better to be over prepared than leave things up to chance. I had been making lists all my life, I wasn’t about to stop now. They have worked for me so far.

Flipping through the maroon moleskine notepad in my hands, my green eyes skim over one page after another - grocery list, changes I must make to my skincare routine, presents to buy next Christmas, wedding registry. There’s a sting in my chest as I stop, my french manicured hand brushing over the soft paper: Vitamix blender, Ginori 1735 cake plate, Baccarat candlestick set.

Inhale, exhale. The pain won’t relinquish. I bring my hand to the soft cotton of my turtleneck, rubbing soothing circles on my chest just like my mum used to when I was little.

“There you go Izara, don’t you feel better? It’s a magic trick, it takes the sadness away.”

The black suitcase is laid out on the floor in front of me, clothes folded neatly in their own nooks. I keep rubbing and rubbing but the sadness won’t go away. So I stop, my fingers carefully flipping a few pages forward.

Move to The US

Pros

Good career move?

New experiences

Cons

Leaving my family and friends

Boss talked about promotion for me in the next year

Leaving London

Visa hassle

Expenses

Wedding delayed off

Leaving Jasper (pro?)

My memories of the day resurface, the way I was locked in my car, dreading walking inside where my husband-to-be was expecting me. I had spent all day trying on wedding dresses near Soho, my mom and her sister fawning over Jasper the entire day. To everyone he was the perfect man, charming, nurturing and protective. But they didn’t know half of what I put up with. All day I wanted to scream, to throw a fit, tell everyone that they don’t know anything about my perfect fiancé. But instead I kept my mouth shut, and waited till I got into my car to cry. I didn’t like being vulnerable, for my relatives to see me weak. I had told no one about the conflicting feelings inside me, or the way I had applied for an open position to be a social media producer for the Dallas Wings. That very same morning the position had been offered to me.

So I sat in my car with my trusty lists, as usual. The moment I wasn’t sure whether to write leaving Jasper into the pros or the cons, I knew I had to go. It had been gnawing at my subconscious, making me sick to my stomach. Even according to the list this decision made absolutely no sense. But in my gut I knew had to go - desperately so.

“Izzie, are you done yet? We have to leave soon.”

My brother bursts into the room, watching the way I had undone all the packing that I had naturally finished a week prior. Clothes were all over my childhood bedroom, piles of them standing neatly. After calling off the wedding with Jasper I had decided to move back home, not wanting to stay with him and his temper under the same roof.

“What the hell have you done here?” He chuckles, shaking his head as I stand in the middle of the bedroom, notebook in hand, staring at the half empty suitcase.

“I think I’ve gone crazy Kiran,” I admit with a sigh. Two weeks ago when I accepted the job I had been so sure - now I wasn’t. This was insane, mad, completely, utterly unlike me. To get up and move, to disappoint my parents, to disappoint everyone. I just couldn’t stand it anymore, my life here. Every year I grew older I became more and more unsure. Now at 25 I felt like a complete fool, not knowing anything except this wasn’t the life I wanted. Something had to change - I had to change.

My younger brother walks over, wrapping a hand around my shoulder.

“Yes you have.”

I scoff and push him off. “That’s not helpful!”

He chuckles and begins to pack for me, just as neatly as I had done earlier. Guess being high-strung ran in the family.

“It is mad. But that doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do,” my brother mumbles, neatly folding my black cashmere sweater. “I think it’s good Iz, no matter what mum and dad are saying. Don’t mind them. They’ll come around.”

“I wasn’t raised not to mind them,” I chuckle, looking out the window, ours just one of many of the semi-detached houses extending along the road I grew up on. The cherry trees had just bloomed, pale pink blossoms covering the branches, decorating the pavement.

“Funny that, neither was I,” Kiran laughs and finally zips up my suitcase, picking it up and preparing to carry it to the car. “You got everything? Passport? Wallet? Documents?”

I nod with a smile. Even if we didn’t look almost exactly the same (though, we certainly did), it was impossible not to pick up on the family resemblance.

“I have everything.”

The drive to Heathrow Airport is quiet. Truthfully, I was far too nervous to speak. I could feel my stomach twisting uncomfortably, a nauseating weight on my chest. I watch as we pass the streets of London, the only streets I had ever known. We pass the red double-decker buses, the abandoned phone boxes, eventually making our way onto the highway.

London is cruel, relentless to its residents, yet simultaneously captivating and thrilling. I had travelled enough to know there was no place like it. Nowhere else I could hop on the Northern Line in the bohemian, eclectic Camden, switch tubes and step out to Canary Wharf, where skyscrapers stand tall above you and the streets are buzzing with men in suits, just in 40 minutes or so. The diversity of the city, the way it could feel like a large metropolis as much as a small charming town all at once, depending on where you were. I loved this city, I always would. But it was time for me to move on at least for now. I wasn’t getting what I wanted, not that I knew what that was in the first place.

“Can’t believe my sister’s gonna be working for the league,” Kiran interrupts the silence. “When you meet Bronny you must tell him hi.”

I let out a laugh, turning to look at him. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s happening anywhere else except your delusions.”

“Hey, you never know!” He scoffs as we pull up to terminal 3, the butterflies growing deep in my abdomen.

“You’re such a guy,” I roll my eyes. “I’m working for the WNBA and all you want is to say hi to Lebron James.”

“Well who else is there, Steph?”

In reality, my brother loved basketball, he was the sole reason I knew the first thing about the sport. But he loved pushing my buttons more - and nothing pushed my buttons further than women being underestimated by men.

“A’ja, Stewie, Sabrina, Jewell? Arike plays for the Wings!”

“Never heard of any of them.”

I smack him on the shoulder as he’s parking the car, making him yelp. He was joking of course, but I wasn’t in the mood. Some would argue I was rarely in the mood to joke around but it’s just how I am. High-strung, intense. It was just me, I couldn’t help it. You know how some people have that spark to them? The kind where they step in the room and the place just lights up? That wasn’t me, and I was okay with it. At least I got shit done.

“Okay sorry,” Kiran whines, rubbing his arm. Neither of us wanted to get out, to face the goodbye looming ahead. So we sit for a while.

“Paige Bueckers was drafted there though, right?” My brother asks, staring at the big sign for Terminal 3 above the sliding doors.

“Yeah, she was.”

“She’s tough,” he says and I nod in agreement. I had followed her college career quite a bit, saw her go through injury and rise to the top again. She wasn’t my favourite player, I preferred focusing on the league - but it was undeniable she was a generational talent.

“She’s also really fit,” my brother adds, making me snort.

“Kiran, I'm fairly sure she’s also really gay,” I laugh. My brother turns to me with shock written all over his face.

“You really think so?”

I roll my eyes, “I- well yes. It’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

“Damn,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Takes one to know one I guess.”

Another smack on his shoulder, another yelp spilling from his lips. One drunken night years ago I had come out to Kiran as bisexual and now it was his favourite joke in the world. I don’t think he realised I was serious, or that at points in my life I had dated girls as well. Honestly though, I hadn’t even thought about girls that way since I met Jasper. Not that I’d found any girl remotely attractive in the past years, perhaps it had just been a phase.

“You’re going to come back with some 6 '5 American basketball lesbian aren’t you?” He teases, making me roll my eyes.

“We need to head inside,” I laugh, climbing out of the car. I didn’t know much about what would happen, but I certainly wasn’t going to come back with anyone. The time I spend in Dallas would be time dedicated to me, to figuring out who I was, what I wanted. I had no time for love.

I pull the suitcase towards the doors, Kiran on my tail until we both come to a halt right inside. Quickly I check my purse again - passport, phone, wallet, charger, documents. All there. Just one thing left to do.

I turn to my brother and hug him. We had never spent more than a month apart since the day he was born. I had always been the annoying, bossy older sister, ordering him around since he could barely talk. But still, it had all been out of love. I wanted him to be safe and it was my job to protect him. He was my baby brother after all, even now at 23 as he stands 6’0 tall.

“Take care of yourself Izzie,” he whispers, squeezing me tight.

“You too, and of mum and dad please,” I tell him, holding my breath in as to not let any tears fall, though they’re already burning in the corners of my eyes.

We pull apart, and he smiles at me assuringly. “Call mum when you land, we don’t need her getting loopy.”

“I will,” I chuckle. There’s a few seconds of silence that stretches across us, our green eyes locked in each other’s gaze. We don’t need to say these things out loud, we both knew we loved each other.

“Well, have a safe flight and have fun in Dallas,” Kiran says and waves bye, turning around to walk away. “YEEHAW!” He turns around and yells before slipping out through the sliding doors. Laughing, I watch him, the ache in my chest growing exponentially. It was all becoming real. Me in Dallas, Texas.

A couple hours and a long security line later I’m sitting on the ascending plane, gazing out of the window. I stretch out my legs, glad to be short enough to fit in the seats comfortably. I’m holding a copy of War and Peace by Tolstoy in my hands, simply flipping through the pages, my mind too conflicted to focus as I watch the ground beneath me retreating further every second.

I could see Big Ben, The London Eye, Thames stretching across the length of the city, shrinking until we ascend through a thick layer of clouds, making it impossible to see anything. It’s only then I let myself cry, the first tears after ending my engagement only a couple weeks prior. I had no other plan, I needed this to work out desperately.

Jet lag was killing me, but I knew I could never allow it to show. It was the following day of arriving in Dallas. I spent all of yesterday sleeping, trying to let my body adjust to the time difference before my first day on the job.

Of course I had woken up three entire hours before my alarm went off. So when I get to the first media team meeting of the season, I have already had time to drink two coffees, go to the gym, shower, shave, do my jet black hair just to have a crisis and pin it up in a slicked back bun, do my makeup and send emails and make calls to the wedding venue to cancel it. I was on fire and wouldn’t let a little jetlag hold me down.

The maroon turtleneck and black slacks I was wearing had already been decided on the evening before as to avoid any clothing disaster. I wasn’t exactly sure how to dress for a job like this - but as I step into the tall building from the busy streets of Dallas I can tell I’m overdressed. Many of the people around my age are dressed much more laid back than I’m used to, wearing hoodies and jeans - and to my biggest shock of all, sneakers.

As I walk across the entryway the sound of my heels tapping on the tiles echo around the building, my cheeks turning bright red. I knew people were turning to stare, but instead of looking back and checking, I rush to the elevator, slipping in through the doors and facing my reflection. Maybe I was overdressed, but I look nice. The gold earrings decorating my ears contrast against my light brown skin and black hair, making them pop. I smooth over my belt, fixing the way the golden buckle of it was sitting on my slacks when a man around my age walks in just as the doors are about to close.

“Hey there!” He greets me, a charming smile on his face and brown eyes twinkling. His friendliness is so intense it nearly startles me.

“Oh, hey!” I reply, turning towards him. For a moment he looks at me, blinking, perhaps waiting for me to keep talking but when I don’t he’s quick to pick up my slack.

“I’m Trey, I do media stuff for the Wings. Basically a glorified cameraman,” he explains lightheartedly.

“I’m Zari, they just hired me to do social media actually,” I reply, shaking his hand firmly just like my dad always taught me to. There’s a sliver of recognition on Trey’s face as he takes in my words.

“Oh yeah! They said they hired someone new! Didn’t mention you were a Brit tho. Well shit we’re prolly gon’ be working together a lot then,” he says. It’s at that moment I decide that his enthusiasm isn’t fake even though it’s suspiciously intense. Maybe he’s just an energetic guy - maybe he’s just an American.

“I suppose yes!” I chuckle and look over the buttons of the lift. “So, perhaps you know which floor I need to go to then because I don’t?”

“Oh sure thing.”

Pressing on the number 10, the elevator finally begins to move upwards. I’m fiddling with the rings around my fingers, a nervous habit I had.

“You nervous?” Trey asks, picking up on my queues quickly. Guess I wasn’t as composed as I’d liked.

“A bit,” I admit.

Trey chuckles and wraps an arm around my shoulder comfortingly - or I suppose it’s meant to be comforting but I didn’t particularly find it so. “You’ll do good, everyone’s chill here. Except the boss but you get used to her. You can relax, Zari.” As much as the man’s enthusiasm and touchiness shocked me, I was glad to have someone show me where to go instead of wandering around the floors aimlessly.

In a corridor full of doors Trey picks the right one, opening it for me. Inside we find a team of 10 people or so sitting around a table, their discussion immediately coming to a halt when we step in, all eyes turning to me. I feel unease settle over me, but instead of panic I inhale and exhale. I knew I could do this, this was the only plan I had. I had never not had a plan B, a plan C before. This had to be it.

“You must be Izara,” a gravelling voice says as a red haired woman, likely in her 50s, stands up. She’s dressed much more corporate, a fitted blazer and a pencil skirt accentuating her curves. I immediately notice her brows, thin and sharp, appearing almost angry. I didn’t have to be told who this was, Trey’s description had been colourful enough for me to know she was my boss.

“Yes, well I go by Zari actually, if you don’t mind,” I say in a friendly tone, walking over in my black stilettos to shake her hand.

“You kids and your nicknames, oh well. Zari’s fine, but don’t complain if I forget,” she sighs, clearly already bothered. “I’m Linda Halford, the managing media director for the Dallas Wings. We spoke on the phone.”

Her eyes are blue and piercing, but there’s something about her straight forwardness that feels intriguing in contrast to the excessive friendliness of everyone else I’d met so far. Hell, even the cab driver tried to strike up a conversation after my flight. I wasn’t sure if I liked Linda or feared her - perhaps a bit of both.

“It’s nice to meet you in person,” I smile, sitting myself down on the chair Linda pulls out for me right next to her. All eyes were on me of course, the new girl. I just had to get through the first week and I’d be old news. Good old boring Izara. Just get through the week.

“I hope your travels went well,” Linda says distractedly, scrolling through a document on her laptop. As I open my mouth to answer, she keeps talking.

“Now, there are many big changes this year, and our media team has been… not up to par so to speak,” she glances up at Trey, and a couple of girls sitting next to him who I suppose I would be working with as well.

“Thanks to Bueckers, we’re about to have a lot more eyes on us. So I hired Izara-” Zari. Just call me Zari. I bite the inside of my cheek not to correct her, she didn’t seem like the type of woman you correct. “and she’s gonna help us. She’s here to innovate, to come up with ideas to boost online exposure and to boost clicks. We need to get active on Tiktok, and whatever the kids use. I need daily content. No more editing videos for weeks before posting them on Youtube, Trey.”

“My bad,” Trey says, making everyone chuckle, his eyes sparkling when they land on me.

Linda looks at him disapprovingly before continuing.

“We are sitting on a goldmine now guys. Paige Bueckers has over 2 million followers on Instagram. She is incredibly marketable, how do we use her best?” Linda asks, everyone going silent immediately, looking around, waiting for someone to bite. Fine, I will.

Clearing my throat I begin. “Well, I think it’s important that while we do use her to get clicks, we don’t make the Wings the “Paige Bueckers team” and repeat the same mistakes I personally think Indiana Fever did with CC,” My voice is steady, sure, even though deep inside I’m not quite certain about what I’m saying. I pause, composing myself - if there was one thing I was good at it was selling things with confidence. Even when I wasn’t.

“I think we use her for clicks, make loads of content with her but use that content to uplift other players and the whole team. Not just Bueckers, not just Arike, but everyone.”

Linda nods. “Yes, Izara. How do we do that?” Zari. Just say Zari.

I shrug. “A lot of Paige’s fans are young, I’m not sure if some of them even watch the sport at all. So we try to get them intrigued. Not posting purely basketball content, but including some fan service should help with that, incentivise the young girls to get involved with the sport. There needs to be a balance.”

To my shock, when I raise my eyes from the table, Linda is smiling. It’s not the warmest smile, but one nevertheless.

“And this is why we had to hire someone all the way from England, because you guys couldn’t figure this out in this hellhole,” Linda scolds my colleagues. The praise feels good, but I really didn’t want to come off as a show off or soon my only friend in all of Dallas, Texas would be Linda Halford.

“Good job Zari, welcome to the team,” the redhead says firmly before returning to her notes. “Okay tomorrow we are all having a little Dallas Wings get together. The coaches, players, everyone so be prepared to go out after work.”

As I write this down in my calendar I’m interrupted by Linda again. “Izara.”

“Yes?” I ask.

“By the end of tomorrow I’m expecting you to be friendly with Bueckers. You’re gonna be working together a lot, I need you on her good side.”

“Thank God!” I groan to myself, kicking off my black stilettos the second I step into my new home. The league had provided me with an apartment until the end of the season. It was modern, nice, sleek but so incredibly impersonal it pained me. It didn’t feel like me at all, the blank white walls, the dull grey furniture. It wasn’t home.

I crash into the couch face first, mixture of jet lag and stress of the first day on the job taking over. Not only was I the new girl, but I was also the English girl. All day I’d been asked if we really eat beans on toast, and if I’d ever seen the Queen - mind you she passed in 2022.

With too much left to do, I only let myself rest for a few minutes before getting up reluctantly, tiptoeing to my bedroom to start undressing. Throwing on a matching set of knitted cream coloured sweater and pants, I let my hair down, finally feeling comfortable.

Suddenly I hear a loud crash from the hallway, followed by even louder giggles and muffled yelps echoing around the building. Too curious about my neighbours, I step into my slippers and carefully open the door to see what’s going on.

“Bro, it’s not that heavy,” an accented voice groans probably a floor below me. Heavy steps on the stairs are closing in. Two people, I think.

“Lou, you’re kidding right?” Another girl complains, her voice bright.

“You’re too weak, just give it to me,” the other person argues, steps approaching me.

“Ha, no way, you’re just gon’ break my new plates. Ion trust you.”

“Next time you’re getting an at-home deliver- oh hey!”

A brunette girl with her hair down, only in basketball shorts and a sports bra sees me as she turns the corner, meeting my gaze as I peek through my door. She’s holding a cardboard box, full of pans and pots, hair sticking to her forehead from the humidity.

Suddenly the other girl appears, blonde, hair in a bun but other than that pretty much wearing the exact same thing.

“Who you talkin to- oh,” the blonde notices me, her blue eyes so intense my knees nearly buckle.

“Sorry, we’re being really loud, we’re gonna try and keep quiet,” the brunette apologises. The blonde is still watching me, never breaking eye-contact. Feeling uneasy, my eyes flicker to the brunette and I smile politely.

“That’s fine, I was just checking if you were okay?” I ask. The blonde walks past my door, my eyes lingering for a millisecond on the way her biceps flex as she carries a large and apparently heavy box of plates towards the next flight of the stairs.

“We’re good, sorry ‘bout that,” the blonde answers, her voice now much quieter, less lively than before when it echoes around the halls.

“Okay well, maybe next time you should get at-home-delivery?” I suggest, watching as the girls struggle slowly up the stairs before retreating back into my apartment.

“That’s what I SAID!” The brunette complains loudly. I can still hear them bickering when I close the door, a smile spreading to my face. The first time I’ve genuinely laughed since I landed.

It’s as if I knew those girls from somewhere, but couldn’t quite place it. Something about them was so familiar. It’s not till I hear them jogging back down for the next batch of boxes to carry upstairs, their voices loud enough to echo into my apartment, when I realise.

“Paige I’m about to call Bob Bueckers to come help us soon, I’m dead serious.”

“You don’t got my dad’s number.”

“Pretty sure I do!”

Oh. Peeking out through the peephole my suspicions are confirmed. Walking past my door it indeed is Paige and Lou, bringing more kitchenware upstairs. And I didn’t even recognise them. I look down at my knitted set with a deep sigh. So much about being professional huh? I better make a good impression tomorrow.

taglist: @wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @lupinqs @lovegalor333 @d3arapril @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @bueckersfive @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch

#paige bueckers #lilas writing #so it goes #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fanfic #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x female oc #wnba x oc

225 notes · View notes

carlsangel · 8 months ago

Text

VIRGINITY (PART ONE)

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl ask for some advice.)

tags: mentions of sex, mentions of loss of virginity, the talk

masterlist here!

read part two!!!

You think about sex all the time. It sounds wrong but it’s true, you’re a teenager, it’s on your mind. You often wonder truly what it’s like. What it feels like, why people rave about it so much, why it’s such a huge part of who people are. It always confused you but you were curious. You’ve seen movies before, the classic make out between two people that would cut to them naked with the sheets covering their top half.

You wanted to know if it was like it was in the movies. That’s why, after a while of you and Carl dating, you’d come to the realization that you would soon lose your virginity. As weird as it sounds, the two of you were constantly worked up. Maybe it was the fact you loved each other so much or maybe because you lived in a world where you could die any second. You were genuinely worried to die a virgin.

Anyway, the both of you had countless make out sessions where you both pawed at each other to no end that you believed would finally end up with him inside of you. Every time you were interrupted. It was never the right time, there was just simply too much going on whenever you two tried. There was always someone in the house, God knows how much Rick hates to knock. You guys always had to watch over the baby and you couldn’t leave her unattended because her naps never lasted long.

You talked about it and you’d actually planned on trying the next time Rick and Michonne were out of the house for a while, as long as you were up for it. You’d have Olivia watch Judith, you’ll figure out some lie to tell her.

When Rick mentioned a supply run that they’d be gone for, you two gave each other a look but acted like everything is normal. Inside, you were excited to have a couple days to yourself. But then it hit you.

You’ve never had sex, how are you meant to know what you’re doing? There was nothing you could look at to give you a clue as to how everything worked. Carl didn’t have a clue either, so he went to the one guy knew to ask. You went to the one girl you knew to ask as well.

“Hey, Glenn?” Carl approaches him while he was working on a car near the gates of Alexandria. He didn’t want you to know he was asking how to have sex, he much rather you assume he knew what he was doing and let him handle it. Glenn looked up from the car and wiped his forehead of the sweat. “Hey.” He responds, looking between Carl and the car.

“I sort of need some advice…if you’re able to help.” His tone is embarrassing, he’s obviously gotten the talk but he was never told what exactly to do. “Uh yeah I have some time.” Glenn places the tool in his hand down on the floor, standing up to wipe his hands off. “What’s up?”

Carl looks at him hesitantly but knows he has to do this. “So um…I know like…what sex is but, i was wondering if you could tell me a bit more how it um..how it works?” He rambles, watching Glenn’s eyes go wide at his words. “Uhhhh….” Glenn thinks for a moment, the moment getting increasingly awkward as he stalled. “Well, use protection.” He swallows hard, trying a tone of voice to make the situation less weird. Carl makes an odd face at him, sort of cringing. “W-well do you need one- a condom? Like is that why you’re…” Glenn’s voice trails off when he realizes that Carl is actually asking so he can act on his advice.

Carl looks at him and nods, hesitating to answer. “Yeah.” He responds, his hands fiddling with the hem of his flannel. Glenn stares at him, somewhat uncomfortable. He pats his pants feeling around his pockets and he reaches into his back pocket. He pulls out a condom, a strip falling from the singular one he meant to take from his pocket. He rips one off quickly, shoving the rest back into his pants frantically. “Just take it.” He sticks it out and Carl takes it and shoves it into his own pocket. “Why do you just have these on hand?” Carl asks, sort of in a disturbed tone.

“Well I- forget it just…” He takes a step back and looks back to the car. He can’t look at Carl but he takes a breath to prepare to give better advice. He continues. “Look, just communicate with her, I think that’s the most important thing okay? You’ll know what you’re doing in the moment.”

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

“They never know where to put it so you’re gonna have to show ‘em.” Maggie tells you handing you a glass of water while you’re sat on her couch. She was very open about this which made you feel more comfortable. She settles into the couch next to you and looks at you intently. “You just gotta know that it’s what you want in the moment. You understand?” She has a light but serious tone.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just scared it’s gonna hurt or something.” You giggle awkwardly. “Well it might, if you bleed that’s normal too.” You squirm a tad at her words. “But you might not. It shouldn’t hurt after you get used to it. Just have him wait while you adjust to the feeling.” She gives you a content smile.

“Okay, I really appreciate this I wasn’t sure who else to go to…” You take a sip of your water and she nods. “If you ever need anything I’m here. Just…don’t get pregnant. That’s another thing, wait till you have condoms. And don’t forget to pee after.” She adds.

You thank Maggie and she decides to walk you out. You look for Carl and Glenn to meet up before dinner. You head towards the gates to see them talking which you find sort of ironic, you had no idea he was asking for advice like you were. He notices you and waves bye to Glenn before walking over to you, Maggie walking over to her husband. Sort of like a trade off.

“Don’t tell your dad I gave you that!” Glenn shouts. Carl gives him some sort of confirmation and returns his attention back to you.

“What’s that about?” You question.

“It’s nothing.”

a/n: the next part will be banger. trust. ANYWAY I HOPE U GUYS LIKED ITTT :> thank u anon for requesting!!! next part comes out maybe this weekend!!! i’ve got some school stuff popping this week sooo it’ll take a little to come out, also it’s smut and i’ve never written that before SO IT MIGHT TAKE ME A LIL

tags: @zomb-1-egutzz

#carl grimes #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #carl grimes angst #the walking dead carl #twd carl #carl grimes smut #rinas writing 🌀

553 notes · View notes

soulofapatrick · 8 months ago

Text

Sheltered by Love - Evan Buckley x Male Reader

Summary: You still have nightmares months after Buck died and came back from the lighting strike

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: none really

Y/N's POV

As the storm rumbled outside, the firehouse seemed to vibrate with each distant boom of thunder. In the dimly lit bunkroom, the rhythmic breathing of sleeping firefighters fills the air, the B shift getting as much rest as they can before they’re needed. I’m only among them as Bobby, Captain of the 118, sent me to try and get some sleep before the next call so I had settled into a restless nap, exhaustion finally catching up with me after a long shift.

But as the storm intensified, my dreams twist into something far more sinister. I found yourself standing in the midst of chaos, surrounded by flashing lights and deafening sirens. And there, at the centre of it all, was Buck—his vibrant smile replaced by a look of shock as a bolt of lightning strikes him down again.

The jolt of waking up is abrupt as the lighting strikes Buck, my heart hammering in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins as the memory of the vision lingers, haunting me. With trembling hands, I push myself upright in the cot, sweat-soaked sheets clinging to my skin. Ignoring the fatigue that weighs heavy on my limbs, I’m stumbling out the bunkroom, feet fumbling against the cool floor in my boots. The storm outside mirrors the turmoil within me, each clap of thunder echoing the panic rising in my chest.

The firehouse feels like a labyrinth as I stumble through its corridors, my heart pounding in my chest with each step. The storm outside seems to intensify, matching the turmoil within me, as if nature itself is reflecting my inner chaos. Hen finds me first, her presence a grounding force in the midst of my panic.

She presses a gentle hand to my forehead, concern etched in her features as she tries to coax me back to bed. But I can't relent, not when the memory of Buck's vulnerable form still lingers in my mind, haunting me with its stark reality. I struggle against her, my voice trembling as I insist that I need to find Buck.

Embarrassing tears sting my eyes as I plead with her, my desperation laid bare for all to see. Hen's expression softens, understanding dawning in her eyes as she realises the depth of my fear. With a comforting touch, she leads me up the stairs to the kitchen area where Buck and Eddie are seated in the two armchairs, deep in conversation.

Relief floods through me at the sight of Buck, his presence a balm to my frayed nerves. But as I approach, my steps falter, uncertainty gnawing at my resolve. Will he understand the depth of my fear, the way his near miss has shaken me to the core?

Hen's reassuring hand on my shoulder is all the encouragement I need. With a shaky breath, I step forward, my eyes meeting Buck's with a mixture of relief and vulnerability.

“B-Buck," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. He looks up from his conversation with Eddie, concern furrowing his brow as he takes in my disheveled appearance.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asks, his voice gentle but filled with genuine concern.

As I stand before Buck, my heart racing with a mixture of fear and longing, he reaches out with a gentle yet firm hand, pulling me down onto his lap. The suddenness of the movement catches me off guard, but before I can protest or even react, I find myself cradled against his chest, his warmth enveloping me like a protective cocoon.

His concerned gaze meets mine, brows furrowed in genuine worry as he takes in my disheveled appearance. "Hey, what's going on?" His voice is soft, filled with a tenderness that sends a shiver down my spine as he asks again.

I struggle to find my voice, to articulate the jumble of emotions swirling within me. But as I gaze into his eyes, the words seem to evaporate, leaving only a raw vulnerability in their wake. Without waiting for a response, Buck wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer as if sensing the depths of my turmoil. I sink against him, my body moulded to his like pieces of a puzzle fitting seamlessly together.

The warmth of his embrace seeps into my bones, banishing the chill of uncertainty that had gripped me moments before. My palm instinctively presses against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips. In that intimate moment, there's no room for pretence or hesitation. It's just Buck and me, united in our shared vulnerability, our unspoken desires simmering beneath the surface.

And as he rubs soothing circles on my back, I can't help but wonder if he feels the same magnetic pull that I do, the unspoken connection that binds us together in moments of crisis.

"The lightning," I choke out, the words tumbling from my lips in a rush, my voice barely above a whisper. Buck's surprised sound sends a jolt of embarrassment through me, amplified by Eddie's studious gaze. I bury my face in the crook of Buck's neck, wishing I could disappear into the safety of his embrace.But instead of recoiling, Buck covers the hand pressed against his chest with his own, pressing it firmer against his heartbeat. The gesture is both comforting and intimate, sending a shiver down my spine as I feel the warmth of his touch seep into my skin.

Eddie clears his throat, breaking the tense silence that hangs between us. "I, uh, think I left something in the truck," he says hastily, his eyes flickering between Buck and me. "Hen, want to give me a hand?”

Hen nods, shooting me a sympathetic glance before following Eddie out of the room. Alone at last, Buck turns his attention back to me, his expression soft with concern and something more.

With gentle hands, he manoeuvres me until I'm straddling his waist, his warmth seeping into every fibre of my being. His touch is electric, sending sparks dancing across my skin as his thumb soothes over my cheek.

Every instinct in me screams to hide, to retreat into the safety of my own thoughts and emotions. But as I feel Buck's steady gaze on me, a flicker of determination ignites within me. I force myself to meet his eyes, willing him to see the depth of my feelings, the longing that simmers beneath the surface.

And as if sensing my silent plea, Buck moves his fingers to hook under my chin, drawing me closer until our lips are just inches apart. The anticipation crackles in the air between us, palpable and electric, as he leans in to capture my lips in a soft, tentative kiss.

In that moment, everything falls into place. The warmth of his embrace, the tender caress of his lips against mine—it all feels so right, so achingly familiar. And as we melt into each other, the outside world fades into insignificance, leaving only the two of us, bound together by an unspoken promise of love and understanding.

As we pull away from the kiss, our hearts beating as one, Buck's arms wrap around me in a tight, protective embrace. The warmth of his body against mine sends a shiver of contentment down my spine, and I find myself melting into his embrace, lost in the comfort of his touch.

"I'm here," he murmurs against my ear, his breath warm and soothing against my skin. "I'll always be here for you.” His words are like a lifeline in the storm, grounding me in the present moment and banishing the ghosts of doubt that still linger in the corners of my mind. With him, I feel safe, cherished, and wholly loved.

As the thunder continues to rumble outside, a symphony of nature's fury, Buck's presence is the calm at the centre of the storm. He holds me close, rocking me gently in his arms, the rhythm of his movements a lullaby that soothes me back into the gentle embrace of sleep. With each sway, each comforting murmur, I feel myself drifting further and further into a blissful oblivion, the worries of the world fading away until there is nothing left but the two of us, bound together by an unspoken promise of love and understanding.

And as I finally succumb to the embrace of sleep, cradled in Buck's arms, I know that no matter what challenges may lie ahead, we'll face them together, hand in hand, hearts entwined in a love that knows no bounds.

911 Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

#evan buckley #evanbuckey #Evan Buckley x reader #buck x reader #evan buckley x male reader #buck 911 #9-1-1 #9-1-1 x reader #9-1-1 x male reader #911 buck #911 smut #911 fluff #911 angst #Evan buckley x male reader #Evan Buckley fluff #Evan buckley smut #Evan buckley angst #evan buck buckely

308 notes · View notes

aerolamseo · 2 years ago

Text

What is Floor Protector? What is the Use of a Floor Protection Sheet?

Floor protection is an important aspect of maintaining the longevity and appearance ofyour flooring. Whether you are moving furniture, hosting a party, or conducting a homerenovation, there are many situations where floors can become damaged or stained. Insuch cases, using a floor protection sheet can provide a quick and convenient solution to protect your floors.

So, what is a floor protection sheet? Simply put, it is a temporary layer of material that isplaced over the flooring to protect it from damage. These sheets are made from durablematerials that are designed to withstand heavy foot traffic, furniture movement, and spills.They can be used on a variety of flooring types, including hardwood, tile, carpet, andconcrete.

One of the best options for floor protection sheets is offered by Aerolam. Our floorprotection sheets are made from high-quality materials that are designed to protect yourfloors from scratches, dings, and spills. They are slip-resistant and waterproof, makingthem a safe and effective option for protecting your floors. Additionally, they are easy toapplyand remove,making thema convenientoption fortemporaryprotection.

But why should you consider using a floor protection sheet? Here are some of the keybenefits:

Protects Your Investment

Flooring is a significant investment for any home or business. Whether you have installedhardwood floors or new carpets, you want them to last as long as possible. Using a floorprotection sheet can help protect your investment by minimizing the risk of scratches ,stains, and other damage.

Provides Easy Clean-Up

Spills and stains can be difficult to clean from flooring, especially carpets. Using a floorprotection sheet provides an easy clean-up solution, as spills can simply be wiped awaywith a cloth or paper towel. This can save you time and money in the long run, as youwon'thave to spend money on expensive cleaning products orprofessional services.

Reduces Risk of Liability

If you are hosting a party or event at your home or business, you may be liable for anydamage or injuries that occur on the property. Using a floor protection sheet can help reduce the risk of liability,as it can prevents lips and falls due to floors.

Offers Convenience

Floorprotectionsheetsare easytoapplyand remove makingthem a convenient optionfor temporary protection. They can be easily transported and stored, making them a greatoption for those who need to protect their floors on the go. If you are in need of a floorprotection sheet, a quick search for "floor protection sheet near me" can help you find local options providing Aerolam Floor Protection sheets.

In conclusion, using a floor protection sheet is an effective and affordable solution forprotecting your floors. It can help protect your investment, provide easy clean-up, reduce the risk of liability,and offer convenience .Aerolam's floor protection sheet is a high-quality option that is slip-resistant ,waterproof, and easy to apply and remove.

#floor protection sheet near me

0 notes

lovemybluebully · 2 months ago

Text

Wakey Wakey

Ummm, hope you don't mind, but I saw this post by @tastybluesprite yesterday and couldn't resist writing a little drabble for it. 😁

https://www.tumblr.com/tastybluesprite/764181017079824384/for-some-reason-i-cant-stop-thinking-about-wade?source=share

Wade gets Logan out of bed in the best way possible. 🤭

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 1,480

Look at me! I wrote something short(ish)! 🤣

"Looooogaaaaan! Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!"

Logan groaned from where he lay in his bed when he heard the familiar and irritating call of his roommate. How the fuck was Wade always so goddamn chipper this early in the morning?

He weakly cracked open an annoyed eye to see the other man standing beside his bed with the stupidest of grins on his face, wearing a tank top and Hello Kitty print pajama pants

"There she is. Up and at 'em, big guy. A new day with a plethora of unknown adventures awaits us."

"The only adventure I'm going on is the one where you get the fuck out of here and let me sleep in peace," Logan rumbled with a growl as he rolled over onto his stomach and shoved his head underneath his pillow. He'd had a late night and was hoping to get at least another couple hours of sleep.

"But that's only an adventure for you and I want us to go on one with each other. I mean honestly, how much fun can two sexy, half-dressed men have in a bed together?"

Logan ignored his obviously suggestive attempt at a joke and kept quiet, thinking that if he didn't respond Wade would eventually get bored and go bother someone else. But the grumpy feral was the only one Wade ever wanted to bother.

"I know you're not much of the cuddling type, but hear me out......what if I let you be the little spoon? Intrigued??? I think you are. Then if you play your cards right we can move onto-GAAH!" Wade squawked as Logan flung one of his spare pillows at him, hitting him right in the face; the force that it was thrown nearly knocking his ass onto the floor.

He recovered and glared playfully at his unmoving companion, not about to let that stunt go unpunished.

"Oh I see. Looks like His Highness is in the mood for a little play time," Wade then smirked as he noticed Logan's foot sticking out from under the sheets.

He reached down to twiddle his fingers on his sole as it flinched and quickly yanked away along with a snort heard from underneath the pillow where the man was hiding his head. Logan instantly felt an uneasiness wash over him as he realized exactly what Deadpool was planning in his spaz mind.

"Wade......," Logan warned with dread building up inside of him, "You'd better fucking not start-"

"His Majesty has chosen the Good Morning Tickles!" Wade whooped out as he leapt onto Logan's back and started tickling him anywhere he could reach. Logan was helpless to stop him and hollered out in guttural laughter as he began to flail, slamming his arms down to his sides once Wade's fingers plunged deep into his formerly wide-open armpits.

"Naahahahahahohohooooo!! Fuhuhuhuhucking Wihihihilson!! No tihihihihickling!!" He flung the pillow from his head as he thrashed, desperately trying to wriggle free and escape the hands squeezing mercilessly at his ribcage and waistline. This was not how he had expected his morning was going to go.

"You love it, and you know it! You're so ticklish how could you not?" Wade giggled himself when Logan snorted through his cackles as the merc massaged at his hip bones near his highly ticklish V-line. Logan didn't even have the protection of a t-shirt since the X-man tended to usually sleep in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, regrettably granting Wade unimpeded access to his overly sensitive bare skin.

"Gehehehet the fuhuhuck offa meeheeheeheeheeHEeHeEHEEhEe!!" Logan squealed, whipping his head around and bunching up his shoulders as Wade had leaned in to additionally blow raspberries on the back and sides of his neck.

"You seriously have the cutest motherfucking giggle. Pretty sure they could be the key to bringing about World peace," he blew a few more to hear Logan's high-pitched giggling before concentrating on his sides again and scribbling fingers over his lower back to watch him squirm like an eel.

"Staaahahahahahahahap!! I gihihive ahahahalready!!" Logan flipped himself onto his back to give him a better chance at fighting the cartoonish man off, and hopefully be able to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, this new position only set him on course for his demise.

"Say whaaaat?! Nah look, you've still got some fight in you. Though I'm not sure how much that's going to last once I do this!" His fingers buried into Logan's now vulnerable stomach, making him shriek and arch his back as high as he could manage with Wade being on top of him.

"NooooFuhuhuhuhuck!! Aaahahahahahahahaa!! Nohohohooot thehehehere!!" Logan's face burned red as he laughed hysterically while Wade's flexible fingers mercilessly scratched and skated all over one of his absolute worst spots.

Seeing him laugh in combination with hearing it was one of Wade's favorite things in the whole World. Along with the fact that while Logan was more than strong enough to stop him, he never did. He always put on a show of opposing it for appearances sake, but Wade knew under all that machismo he secretly craved the physical touch and affection.

"Not there?! Blasphemy! There's no better spot than your little tum tum! To tell the truth these muscles of yours are starting to look mighty tasty. You don't mind if I take a bite, do you?"

Logan had not a second to protest before Wade dove face-first into his belly as he started playfully growling while gnawing and nibbling all over. He knew raspberrying Logan's stomach would drive him wild and he expected this to have similar results.

"Rrrraaargggh!! I've got you now! OMNOMNOM! I'm gonna eat these smoking hot abs right up!" Wade taunted and then morphed into his best Hannibal Lecter impersonation, "Mmmmm, I do believe this would go lovely with some fava beans and a nice chianti, eh Clarice! OMNOMNOMNOMNOM!"

The Wolverine absolutely lost it. The teasing was unbearable in itself, but the tickling sensations were on another level. He was screaming in babbling laughter as his body thrashed out of control, his beefed-up arms weakly and ineffectively shoving at Wade's head.

"WAAAHAHAAAHAHAHHAAADE-N-NOOHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHA-ST-ST-STAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-PLEEEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAA!!"

Tears were sliding down his face as Wade continued to enthusiastically bite and nip every inch of his terribly ticklish tummy; teeth grazing his skin ever so gently to send him into a state of hysteria like he had never known before. He'd lost the ability to form any coherent words and couldn't even beg for mercy.

Wade knew he was pretty much done for now, and decided it was time for the grand finale. Wrapping his arms around the man to hold him in place, he took a huge breath and blew the hardest and longest raspberry he'd ever done directly into Logan's bellybutton.

Leaning his head backward, all that came out of Logan was a long-winded wheeze as he arched his back; his laughter having reached the point of being silent as his whole body just trembled from the overstimulation. He had no energy left to fight it and just silently endured until Wade finally finished.

Removing his arms, Wade sat up and smiled down at the man who had just been near death from tickling.

"That was a good one. I didn't think you could get any more ticklish, but you've proven me wrong. Definitely adding that little technique to my line up."

Logan was barely catching his breath; his body tingling all over from the torture he'd just taken on as he tilted his head up a little so he could look at the other man.

"You're an asshole. Thanks for almost blowing out my healing factor, fuck stick," he ended up smirking, unable to be mad after laughing as much as he just did, but also because he really didn't mind when Wade tickled him. He'd never tell him that though.

"Literally!" Wade chuckled, "I know how much you love those raspberries. Ahh that never gets old. So you ready to get up now?"

"Actually feel like taking a nap after all that. But I guess I'd better so ya don't start that shit again," he raised an eyebrow, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as Wade hopped off.

"Aw yeah! Another Deadpool and Wolverine team-up for the record! Let's fucking go!" Wade danced around and began twerking towards the bed as Logan rolled his eyes though unable to keep from smiling. He just could never keep up with whatever was going on in Wade's mind.

"You're going to be the death of me, ya know that? Now quit fucking around and let's see if we can't find some random street gang to start a brawl with."

The merc stared at him adoringly.

"I love you."

"Wade?"

"Yes, the light of my life?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"That's a funny way to say 'I love you' but I'll take it."

"Fucking moron."

#At least I finally got something written #tickle fic #ticklish!wolverine #ticklish!logan #ler!deadpool #ler!wade #deadpool tickle #wolverine tickle

130 notes · View notes

hecallsmegirlieee · 20 days ago

Text

sleepless nights & sinbad the mariner ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: timothée comforting your daughter during a sleepless night

The night was thick with silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of the sheets or the distant creak of wood expanding in the cold. You were sleeping soundly, your body curled into the warmth of Timothée, your breaths slower, deeper, like the tide.

The door opened with a faint groan, and a small figure hesitated in the doorway. Irene’s silhouette, clutching her pyjama, was lit faintly by the moonlight filtering through the hallway window. She shuffled into the room, bare feet pattering softly against the wood floor.

Timothée stirred as she approached his side of the bed. A small hand tugged gently at his sleeve.

« Papa ? »

He blinked awake, rubbing at his eyes as if to sweep away the fog of sleep. Irene’s wide eyes stared at him, brimming with unspoken fear.

« What is it, zouzou ? Why aren’t you sleeping ? » he murmured, his voice husky but tender.

« I don’t want to sleep in my room, » she whispered, her voice trembling. « Can I sleep here ? »

He glanced at you, still deep in sleep, your face serene in the low light. Carefully, he shifted to sit up, brushing his hand gently over Ren’s hair.

« Come, » he said softly. « Let’s go back to your bed. »

She hesitated, but her trust in him was unshakable. Irene nodded, her little hand sliding into his. Timothée slipped out of bed with practiced ease, his movements careful not to disturb you. The floor was cold under his feet as he led Irene back to her room.

The moonlight spilled through the curtains, casting soft shadows on the light walls. Timothée knelt by the bed, tucking the blanket around her with gentleness.

« What were you scared of, sweetheart ? » he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Ren shrugged, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

« The shadows, » she admitted. « They move. » Timothée smiled, brushing a curl from her face.

« Shadows only move because the light does, » he explained. « It’s like they’re dancing. » Her brow furrowed, but his calmness seemed to ease her.

« Dancing ? » He reached for one of the books on the small shelf beside her bed.

« Do you want me to read you a story? Maybe the shadows will dance right out of your dreams. » Ren nodded eagerly, her fear giving way to a quiet anticipation. « Sinbad ? »

« Yes, please, » she smiled.

Timothée settled onto the carpet, cross-legged, and opened the book. It was an old, well-loved copy of Sinbad the Mariner, the pages soft with wear.

His voice filled the room, low and melodic, painting the story in the air. Ren watched him, her eyelids growing heavy but unwilling to close entirely. Occasionally, she’d murmur a question or comment, and he would pause to answer, his tone always patient, always gentle.

By the time he reached the tenth page, her breathing had evened out. Her small hand clutched the edge of the blanket, her lips parted in peaceful sleep. Timothée watched her for a moment, his heart full. He closed the book quietly and leaned back against the bedframe, unwilling to leave just yet.

The morning light was pale and tentative, creeping in through the curtains as if unsure of its welcome. You stretched, your hand reaching instinctively for Timothée’s side of the bed. It was empty, the sheets cool.

Frowning, you sat up, brushing your hair out of your face. The house was still, the only sound the distant hum of the heater kicking in. You slipped out of bed, pulling on a sweater against the morning chill.

You passed by your son’s room, pausing at the door. He was sprawled across his bed, one leg tangled in the covers, his mouth slightly open in sleep. A pang of affection tugged at your heart, but you moved on quietly, not wanting to wake him.

Ren’s door was ajar, and you pushed it open gently. The sight inside made you stop.

Timothée was on the carpet, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting protectively near Irene, who had curled up beside him sometime during the night. Her small hand rested on his arm, her face nestled against his chest.

The book laid forgotten nearby, its cover closed but slightly crooked. The room was bathed in a golden glow, the early sun catching in their hair, turning Timothée’s soft waves into a halo.

For a long moment, you simply stood on the doorframe. The love in the room was palpable, a warmth that made your chest ache with gratitude.

Finally, you stepped into the room, kneeling beside Timothée. You brushed a strand of hair from his face, your fingers lingering on his cheek. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked at you, disoriented but smiling softly.

« Morning, » you whispered.

« Morning, » he replied, his voice thick with sleep. You glanced at Ren, still fast asleep.

« She couldn’t sleep ? » He shook his head, his gaze softening as it fell on her.

« The shadows were dancing, » he said, his lips quirking into a smile. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

« What are you doing on the carpet ? », you murmured. He chuckled, shifting slightly but careful not to wake Ren.

The morning stretched before you, slow and luminous, like something out of a dream.

« Let’s get her to bed. »

#(NOT EDITED)#hecallsmegirlieee #sleepless nights & sinbad the mariner #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee x y/n #dad timothee #fanfic #dad fic

82 notes · View notes

lincolndjarin · 1 year ago

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty five : wedding bells

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 11.7k

summary : a plan to finally leave Naboo is set in motion.

warnings, etc. : language, smut, angst, canon typical violence, allusions to sexual assault, threatened sexual assault (a guy threatens reader, and is gross), vomit (reader pukes once, it isn't described in detail), oral f!receiving, p in v, creampie, din's breeding kink, teasing, orgasm delay, probably other things i missed sorry

a/n : genuinely sorry about how long this took, it's been a pretty rough month for me and it's been hard to focus, especially when i'm also trying to keep up with kinktober, i promise in november. my upload schedule will do back to normal. i've sort of been dreading writing this chapter for a long time just because i've known how i've wanted it to go for so long and i just wanted it to be right, double apologies bc idk when the next chapter will be out because it's gonna be a double release but i will keep everyone posted. also i super rushed the edit on this so like if there's a big glaring error feel free to message me about it.

comments and reblogs are appreciated !!

Four days of Leo.

You were upset that Din was leaving you but you got over it rather quickly with the promise of his hasty return.

The morning he’d left you’d gone back to bed, you couldn’t think of anything to do without him so you just slept, dismissing the girls when they came to dress you. Your makeshift bed is colder than ever as you toss and turn for a few minutes before finally rising. You managed to find a dress that wouldn’t require much assistance to put on, stepping into it before leaving only to find Leodall waiting outside your door.

“Can I help you?” You give him a perplexed look as he clears his throat.

“I’ve been tasked with protecting you while the Mandalorian is away.”

What the hell is Leo supposed to do if you’re in danger?

“Is this Kodo’s doing?” You fight back the frown that threatens to form on your face.

“No ma’am. The Mandalorian instructed me to keep an eye on you.”

Bastard.

Of course he didn’t tell you Leo was going to be watching you while he was gone, he knew you’d be livid, which you are. You know better than to fight this, Leo’s terrified of Din, he’ll do whatever he asks of him. With a sigh you begin to make your way to the library, hearing his flustered steps behind you.

You don’t want to be stuck with him in the library all day so you simply grab a handful of books before making a hasty return to your room. Much to your chagrin, he follows you in, keeping a watchful eye on you as you read.

He does all sorts of nonsense.

He sweeps, and dusts, and fusses. Nothing is ever clean enough for him. You tell him it’s fine dozens of times but he just won’t stop insisting. He takes the sheets off the bed to be washed despite you telling him you don’t even sleep there.

His orange complexion goes damn near white when he discovers that you’ve been sleeping on the closet floor. You explain to him with as much patience as you can muster that nothing he can do will stop you from sleeping in there and you find a compromise where he thoroughly washes every single blanket, sheet, and pillow while you try not to scowl at him.

And he won’t stop talking.

He doesn’t seem to take the hint. You can sigh and groan as much as you want to when you look up over your book at him but he just keeps going.

The only time he goes silent is when you have to attend dinner with your husband. Leo accompanies you as Din would, standing behind you as you take your seat at the dining hall table.

Kodo looks… tired?

You’ve seen plenty of emotions on that smug face of his, but exhaustion? Never.

“Let’s make this quick.” He doesn’t even look at you as he takes a swig of whatever’s in his mug. You don’t grace him with a verbal response, just a nod and a hum as you take a sip from your own glass, hoping the water will soothe your nerves.

They don’t even bring out any food as he writes something down, shuffling through the papers in front of him.

“I don’t have a lot of time today…” He finally looks up at you, there are bags under his eyes and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten to a man who seemingly cares about nothing. “Let’s get started, shall we?” He sits up a little straighter, giving you that smile you’ve grown to hate more than anything else in this castle. “My father is ill.”

“I’m so sorry, my prince.” Your sympathies are emotionless, you don’t remember what his father is like. If he’s anything like the rest of his relatives you’re certain you wouldn’t care for him.

“Don’t be, this is a good thing.” Of course his father’s sickness would be a positive to him. “They’ve already transferred many of his royal duties over to me.” Hence the exhaustion. “This is a very good thing, wife. You could be queen by the end of the month.” Your stomach lurches at the thought.

Being queen means making heirs.

“How wonderful.” You stare at him, really taking him in for the first time in a while. Maybe it’s just because you know exactly how ugly he can be but right now you have to wonder how anyone considers him attractive. You don’t even know what Din looks like but you know that purely based on his actions that he’s more attractive to you than this.

“I don’t have much else for you, you are excused.” You blink at him a few times as he says it before shooting a confused look at Leo who looks as puzzled as you.

“You don’t want to have dinner?” You try to not sound excited at the idea of leaving already as he nods.

“I already ate.” He’s already ignoring you all over again, his eyes back on his work as he waves you off.

So you go back to your room, smiling the entire time.

You read, you eat when Leo brings you food, and you sleep.

And that’s the routine.

For nearly a week that’s what you do.

You wake, you let Leo in when he knocks, you deal with it when he fusses, and you sleep.

But really what you spend most of your time doing is missing Din.

You miss the way he smells, and the way he balances you out. It feels like you’re missing an integral part of yourself, you’ve grown so accustomed to his constant presence and the sudden lack of it is jarring. He made the castle feel like home and without him it returned to its former glory, a prison.

☆

Just as promised he returns, you’d hoped it would have been sooner but you’re just happy he’s back. You’d assumed the moment you laid eyes on him that you’d jump his bones immediately, but all you could think about was just how happy you were to see him.

You just want to be with him.

So you do just that.

And you take care of him, because it makes you happy to care for him the way he does for you. You don’t ask him about the trip, you know he’ll tell you about it when he’s ready.

In the morning you hold him tight, and you tell him what you were told at dinner. That the king is sick, and you both know what that means.

Despite the looming darkness, the morning is relatively normal after that.

Until you get to the library.

He’d been staring at you for some time and you were just about to ask if he was okay when he spoke.

“Do you know what riduur means?”

Spouse.

You’d seen it in the book while he was away. You’d focused on learning words that would most likely be relevant to your life with him.

“No, I don’t think I learned that.” You’re mostly just curious if he’ll actually tell you.

“It means partner, or spouse.” He sounds nervous, it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Oh. Okay…”

He nods and you can’t help but be disappointed at his lack of followup. You try not to stare, keeping an eye on him as you return to your own book, in your peripherals you can see that he doesn’t even try to pretend to read, he’s just staring at you again. You get ready to shut your eyes when he starts playing with his helmet controls but he doesn’t remove it, instead he takes your face in his hands.

“Can I ask you something?” There’s no modulation as you hear his raw, unfiltered voice. His thumbs rub small circles into your jaw.

Is this happening? Now? Or is he joking around again?

“Of course.” You’ve been ready since the first time you thought this was happening.

“Do you remember when I described the fear of love to you?”

Definitely not a joke.

“Yes.” You couldn’t possibly forget it, you still feel it everyday.

“Do you ever feel that fear?”

Every single second of every single day.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want you to.” He releases your face, taking your hands in his instead. “I don’t want to either.”

If he’s about to break up with you again you’re gonna kill him. You might actually push him out the window, he’ll be fine, he has his pack.

“I don’t want our lives to be that. I want to leave, soon.” You sit up in his lap, the nook is a mess of tangled limbs and fabric from the skirt of your gown at this point. “B- but I want us to do something before we leave.” He’s usually so put together when he talks to you like this. Slow, well calculated words, but he’s stuttering a bit now, his voice nearly cracking as you give his hands a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats, nodding to himself before the helmet tilts up with a whisper of your name, it’s the first time you’ve heard your real last name and not Harand, in a long time. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You really do.

“I have lived my entire life in hiding, behind masks and walls.” He takes your hand, bringing it to the lip of his helmet as he takes your fingertips, bringing them under it to hold them to his lips. “I can’t, and I won’t do that forever. I have said it before and I will say it again, I have no secrets from you.” Are you holding your breath? The tightness in your chest makes you feel like you are. “And you deserve a much more profound proclamation of devotion but I’m worried that if I try to do that I’ll lose my nerve. So instead I’ll just say it, and I’ll spend the rest of my days after this showing you just how devoted I am.” He reaches under his cowl, producing a small chain from around his neck, he fiddles with the clasp for a moment before holding it out towards you. Two silver rings hang from the chain. “Sarad’ika, let me spend the rest of my days with you.” He sets the rings in your hand.

You’re briefly waiting for formal words but you realize those aren’t coming. This is more than a marriage. This is an oath to each other, a permanent bond of devotion.

“Of course.” You whisper, closing your hand around the bands before swiftly removing his glove, pulling him to your lips to place a kiss to his palm. “Of course, Din.”

You stare into that thin black visor, the both of you just taking a moment to take each other in. And for a brief moment you get a glimpse of the life you could have together.

A chance at something real.

Freedom.

A house.

A family.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” He murmurs, barely above a whisper.

“What’s that mean?”

“Mandalorian wedding vows. I can teach them to you if you’d like.”

“What does it mean?”

"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."

You want him to take the helmet off.

You’ve never felt such a strong urge to be face to face with him, to really truly see him in this moment. To know him and to be known.

“And I want you to look.” He voices your own thoughts as he brings your hands to his helmet and you lean forward on instinct, pressing your forehead to the cool steel. You stare at the beskar mask. You’ve spent so much time wondering what lies beneath it but now you know that you don’t care, you imagine him as you’ve felt him beneath your hands. You tumble forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.You lift his helmet just enough to kiss him, to feel that warm familiar heat against you.

“I want to do it soon, I don’t want to wait any longer.” He murmurs once his helmet is properly situated once more.

“Absolutely.”

“One week from today. Elaine and I will plan everything and we can leave that night.” A week?

“So soon?”

“It’s for the best.” You settle against his chest so you’re staring out the window at the palace grounds. Just holding each other for a few minutes until you finally speak.

“It’s silly, but I actually think I’m gonna miss this place.”

“Really?”

“Not this place specifically, I won’t miss this far too large castle, and I won’t miss the arranged marriage of it all, but I’ll miss all the other parts.” You twist around in his arms to face him. “I’ll miss Lysa and Elaine, and the cabin, and being here, in the nook.” His grip on you tightens in an attempt to bring you comfort. “I’m really going to miss the people.” You are suddenly aware of just how fond you’ve become of the people of Naboo. You truly love and care for your subjects and a part of you is going to miss them terribly.

“I’m sorry.” He truly sounds apologetic.

“Don’t be. None of it compares to you, Mr. Djarin.” You don’t want him to dwell on any sadness you may have because none of it compares to how badly you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Djarin.” He mimics your tone.

“You can’t call me that yet.”

“But it suits you.”

☆

You wear your ring like he does. On your necklace. He keeps his on the thin silver chain and you keep yours on the cord with the silver flower charm.

You have one full week to prepare.

Din assures you that he’ll take care of all the logistical parts of your escape, he says he’s got a plan and you leave it at that, trusting him to handle it. You make yourself a five day schedule.

Day one, which is today, your engagement day, you will spend packing and gathering whatever you wish to take with you, you both agree to each take one bag and nothing else to make things as easy as possible.

Day two, Elaine is going to fit you for a gown while Din finishes his preparations for your departure.

For your third day you’ve convinced Din to take you into the city to say goodbye. You want to see the markets and you want to see the people, one last time.

On day four, you will have to attend your final dinner with your current husband.

And on day five you will be married. Elaine supposedly knows a pastor who works in a chapel just at the edge of the castle grounds. She has told him that the Mandalorian wishes to wed a servant girl, when the sun sets you will meet him there, your face concealed and just like that, you’ll be wed.

When he explains it to you it all seems so simple but actually making it through the week is much harder.

You don’t pack any clothes, Din says you’ll just get new ones when the two of you find somewhere to settle. You plan on wearing a simple tunic and pants, you’ll change after the ceremony and you’ll have your honeymoon once you’re safe and off planet.

You’ve been wearing the necklace Din got you for a while now you don’t have to worry about that. Otherwise you don’t honestly have many belongings. You grab a few books from the library you’ve been meaning to read, tucking them into the canvas bag he brought for you. You pack a blanket and a few pieces of jewelry you think might be valuable before buttoning it shut, handing it off to Din to be tucked away in the cabin.

You can’t help but feel like you’re forgetting something but you push the thought away.

That night, when you’re laying with Din in the closet you hold the rings up together, staring at the intricate detailing in a way you haven’t gotten a chance to do yet. You rest your chin on his chest in the dim lamp light as you watch the way the flickering bulb reflects off the silver.

The outsides are rather pretty, matching patterns of swirls and vines, miscellaneous flowers adorn the band. The insides are different though, both carved with the same word you vaguely remember from your book.

Riduurok

It represents a love bond.

The difference is specifically that yours has a very small carving of a mudhorn, a sigil you recognize from his armor, while his is engraved with a flower. A piece of each of you.

“They’re beskar.” He says softly. His helmet resting on your bare chest.

“Like your armor? Isn’t this only supposed to be used on Mandalorians?” You drop his ring and focus back on your own.

“They make exceptions.” He yawns, he still hasn’t fully recovered from the exhaustion of his trip and you wonder if he slept at all when he was gone.

“Is this why you left? To get these?”

“Not just anyone can forge beskar, I needed to seek out an old friend to do it.” He adjusts himself a bit, fiddling with his helmet.

“They did a beautiful job.” You close your eyes as you say it, hearing his helmet hit the floor and his face taking its place against you as he lays back down.

“She always does.” He reaches over, turning the lamp off.

“Why a mudhorn?” He laughs when you ask, rolling over so he’s on his side, still holding you.

And before you fall asleep, he tells you a story.

In the morning Din leaves you with a kiss on the forehead to go handle the final preparations of your departure while Elaine arrives with her seamstress kit and bundles of white fabric.

You want your own dress for this.

Not one of the ones tailored to you and paid for with Kodo’s money.

She takes your measurements in silence, her face contorted in concentration as she notes everything. From the looks of it, she already has a good portion of the dress finished.

It’s gorgeous.

Pale, sheer fabric lined with dainty little dots. The skirt is layered, flowing freely when she pins it against your figure, fitting it to you perfectly.

“Elaine… this is beautiful, when did you find the time to make this?”

“I started it a while ago, I hoped you’d like it.” She smiles and it feels almost normal. Like two friends just looking out for each other.

“I love it, thank you, I don’t know how I’m going to repay you for everything you’ve done.”

“You’ve done enough just by being kind to me, princess.” He manages to speak clearly even when she’s holding pins between her teeth.

“Please, you don’t have to call me that, call me by my name.”

And she does.

When she finishes the dress you have to fight back tears, not just because of how wonderful of a job she’s done, but because of the sentiment of it all.

“Will you come to the wedding? You and Lysa?” You take her hands in yours, as you stare at yourself in the mirror, white lace falling off your shoulders in beautiful layers.

“If you’d like.”

“Nothing would make me happier. You give her hands a squeeze and she helps you out of the gown, after about an hour Din returns from his day spent finding you passage off of Naboo, laying down beside you in the closet, you’re in only your undergarments since you didn’t bother changing after Elaine was done.

“I missed you.” He mumbles as he crawls across the sheets towards you.

“You always miss me.” He just laughs when you sit up on your elbows to smile at him.

“I got us a ship.” He murmurs, you barely get a chance to cover your eyes before his helmet is off, his mouth on yours as he climbs on top of you.

“Where’s it taking us?” You gasp out when he finally pulls back, tugging at the latches on his armor as he sits up on his knees.

“Wherever we want. It’s a cargo ship, making multiple stops throughout the outer rim, we’ll be able to get off whenever.” You listen, eyes still shut, counting as each piece of armor is set on the floor until the last one is off.

“What about our great escape? What’s the story?” His knee slides between your legs as he crawls back on top of you, holding himself above you so you have to strain your neck to kiss him.

“The princess ran off on her own volition. She was unhappy for a long time and finally couldn’t take it anymore.” He pulls back just enough that you can’t find him without your sight, whining as you slump back against the pillows. “Elaine will spread whatever rumors she needs to to make it true.”

“What about her loyal Mandalorian bodyguard?” You reach up, opting to just pull him down to you instead of trying to find him yourself.

“He was embarrassed, ran away with his tail between his legs because he accidentally lost the princess.” He lets you pull him against you, his face finding a place under your jaw, his stubble brushing against your neck as he does.

“Didn’t realize he was such a coward.” You let out a breathless laugh as his chin brushes against a particularly ticklish part of your throat.

“Apparently he was a real baby about that kind of thing.” You feel a soft bite emphasizing his words as his teeth graze your skin.

“What a shame.”

“Truly.” He ends the back and forth when his mouth dips between your breasts, licking a strip of the skin there before sliding lower. “Do you have any other plans tonight?”

You just cleared your whole schedule.

“Nope.”

“Perfect, I thought we could do some married couple practice?” He lifts your legs up, resting them on your shoulders as he presses several tender kisses to your thighs.

“Married couple practice?” You’d do just about anything he wanted you to right now as long as he doesn’t stop what he’s doing.

“Well we’re gonna be married in just a few days, we should probably practice.” There’s a brief shuffling as he tosses his gloves aside before hooking a finger on your panties, you’re waiting for him to tug them down but instead you just hear a few rips and feel his breath against your mound.

“I don’t exactly get what that entails…” Your words are shaky as he runs his thumb along the crease between your thigh and your cunt.

“Well I was thinking all day, you know, while I was busy missing you.” He finally puts his mouth on you and it’s barely enough. His fingers spread you open as he leans forward, placing a single chaste kiss onto your clit that makes you jump a bit.

“Of course.” Your voice pitches up a bit.

“And I was thinking about how I’d probably come back here and we’d talk a little like we normally do, and then we’d probably have sex like we normally do.” He still doesn’t put his mouth on you, you just feel his breath against you, making your pussy ache and your clit throb.

“So far so good.” Are you even speaking loud enough for him to hear you?

“But then I realized that we’re gonna be married soon, so I thought we should probably start acting like it.” He leans forward just enough for his nose to bump against your clit.

“Yeah?” Your hands tangle in his hair in an instant.

“Yeah. You know, typical married people things, I ask you how your day was, you tell me it was fine, and then we have boring married people sex.” He tilts his head to the side a bit, just enough to relieve any of the pressure against your core as you try desperately to pull him into you.

“What is boring married people sex?” You ask, strained and breathless.

“You lay on your back and I do my thing until I finish inside you, because married people have kids, that’s what they do.” Finally, finally, his tongue drags along your seam before dipping into your weeping hole, your back arching as you groan.

“Obviously.”

“You probably won't finish, I’m pretty sure that’s part of it.” He mumbles against you before pressing his tongue deeper into you.

“Well that doesn’t seem fair.” Your eyes are squeezed shut as he works you open, slowly, your cunt leaking as he laps at whatever he can.

“Marriage is all about compromise.” He pulls back, a little breathless himself now before wrapping his arms around your legs, nuzzling his face between your legs before wrapping his lips around your clit, leisurely sucking until you can’t hold back the obscene moan that forces its way out of you.

“How is that a compromise?” You finally manage to grumble through your haze, the coil in your stomach tightens just as he comes up for air, resting his head on your thigh.

“I don’t know, it just is- dank farrik- missed you- your taste.” His own voice is nearly as needy as your own as he leans back down into you, his tongue swirling around that little bundle of nerves until you feel like you're about to explode.

“Being married… sounds awful.” Your chest heaves and your thighs tighten around his head as he sinks two fingers into you, briefly pulling back with a small gasp.

“We’ll make it work.” He curls his fingers, chuckling when you tighten around him.

“Maybe that’s the compromise.” You muse as he flattens his tongue against your clit.

“Making it- making it work?” You’re so fucking close, if you could just get him to stop talking and focus you’d be able to finish.

“Yeah, maybe the compromise is making boring married sex work for both of us.” You stammer again, desperate for him to just send you over that edge.

“I suppose we could try that.” He flicks his tongue against you one last time before withdrawing his fingers, you whimper the moment he does. “Are you going to come?” He knows exactly what he’s doing, and that you are. You nod with a breathy whine and he pulls back entirely, sitting up.

“If you want me to marry you you better stop whatever it is you’re doing.” You spit the words out quickly, desperate to pull him back in.

“If you want to come you better not make jokes like that.” He teases but you know he’s incapable of denying you anything.

“Fine, fine, just- come here.” You hold your arms out towards him and he eagerly crawls back into them, slotting himself between your thighs as he spreads your legs wide to accommodate him. You arch your back and shift your hips to the best of your ability, trying to get some kind of relief against him but he pulls back just enough to prevent it.

“How was your day?” You can feel his grin as he leans down, kissing along your jaw slowly as you paw at his chest.

“It was great, wonderful.” You gasp out as you feel him drag the head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in the abundant wetness there.

“Now ask me about my day.” He notches himself at your entrance, not pushing in just yet but enough to make you squirm in an attempt to take matters into your own hands unsuccessfully.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Your voice is already ragged and strained at this point but when he still doesn’t move you sigh. “How was your day?” The moment you finish your sentence he pushes into you in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt with a groan from both of you.

“It was fine.” He mumbles before almost immediately finding a rhythm, pumping himself inside you with deep deliberate thrusts. His forehead presses against yours as he lets out a breathy whine.

This certainly doesn’t feel boring.

He takes hold of your hips, raising them slightly so he can angle himself to slam against your g-spot, twisting your body until you let out a particularly strained moan and he knows he’s found it. Your brain is already mush just from the sheer speed at which he started fucking you, giving you no time to adjust, so all you manage to mumble is his name.

“You- you want me to fill you up? He rasps out.

You nod for a moment until you remember the darkness that you’re both in and you manage to find your voice.

“Yes, please.” Your hand slips between your legs as you begin to rub slow circles into your clit but he takes your wrist and slowly pulls it away.

“I- I wanna see if- if you can come just like this.” He stammers out as he continues jackhammering into you, purposefully pushing himself into your g-spot as your walls flutter around him.

“Din…” You whine but he just keeps at it.

“I bet you can, I bet you’ll come when I do, when I fill you up, when I’m spilling out of you.” Your head is spinning from the repeated stimulation as he continues to focus on that sweet spot until you’re both falling apart. He’s exactly right. He comes first, snapping his hips forward until he’s nestled against your cervix. And when he’s done he slowly fucks his cum deeper into you, reveling in the lewd wet sounds and it only takes a moment more before you finish as well, gasping and strangling his cock as you clamp down on him.

When your breathing settles he turns onto his side, holding you against his chest before mumbling a sleepy I love you, so much. The two of you have been laying in silence for quite some time when you finally speak up.

“You know, married people sex is subjective.”

“Hmm?” He hums softly.

“Any sex we have after we’re married is married people sex, because we’ll be married people.”

“Mhmm.” He sounds like he’s barely awake but you just keep going.

“I don’t know why you assume it has to be boring.”

“Mmhm.” He continues to hum against your chest, a low rumble.

“Do you spend all your time away from me coming up with over complicated ways to put a baby in me?” You finally blurt out with a laugh, rubbing his back as you do.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He finally sits up a bit and speaks, his voice is heavy with exhaustion.

“Maybe I spend all my time thinking about the same thing and you just make it really easy for me to get what I want.” You’re still laughing softly.

“Does that mean you want to have more boring married people sex?” The fatigue in his voice dissolves quickly.

“Only if you stop calling it that. We aren’t boring married people and we are never going to be. We’re just going to be married people.”

“Mmm, I can make that work. Do you want to have more married people sex?” He starts to sit up on top of you again but you put a hand on his chest, pushing him so he’s laying down on his back.

“Absolutely I do.” You straddle his hips before reaching out into the darkness to take his face in your hands.

☆

Today is the only day you’ve woken up sad since Din proposed.

Today you have to say goodbye to your favorite part of Naboo, the people. When you wake he’s already dressed, attaching the last of his armor before helping you up.

“I thought you might want to leave early, so we can spend as much time in the city as possible.” His voice is still thick with sleep as you get to your feet.

You tell Leo to bring you as many coin purses as he can before you leave and he returns with five rather hefty bags of credits that Din slips into his bag before you head out. You go through the usual process, bracelet and all the other hubbub before you begin your walk through the streets.

There’s a dull ache in your chest as you look around at the people. Your people.

The thought of never seeing them again, and never getting a chance to really help them. If you were queen you could do something about all of this, but you can’t stay long enough to do such a thing.

So you settle for this.

You hand out credits to anyone who will take them, saving a bag for Vivian's family. You embrace anyone who will let you, and you hold the hands of everyone you give credits to. And once four bags are empty you go to Vivian’s store and you play with Theo, and even though she protests for the better part of an hour you give her the fifth coin purse. And when the sun starts setting you hug her.

And you fight the urge to say goodbye because it doesn’t matter how much you trust her, no one can know that this is your last time visiting the city.

When you leave the store it’s clear how upset you’re becoming about all of this so Din takes you to the markets just as the sunsets and you get to see the changeover. You can’t technically go to the Lunar Markets without your cloak, it wouldn’t be a good look for a princess to be wandering through such a taboo place, but you stand just outside the first street and you watch all the lights flicker on.

Each string light going on at its one speed, dazzling flashes of light all dancing through the air until the entire street is illuminated.

It’s beautiful.

Yet you don’t feel better.

You just feel sad. Because you’ll never get to see it again.

So you walk, quietly with Din, back towards the castle.

“You’re upset.” His voice fills the silence almost immediately as you walk the empty street back.

“A bit.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t do anything. I’m royalty, I should have helped these people when I had the chance to.” You sigh, resting your shoulder against his.

“You did the best you could.” It sure doesn’t feel like it.

“And it still wasn’t enough.”

“You did more for them than any other member of the royal family has done in decades.” You have to fight the urge to take his hand in yours after that.

“You always know what to say.”

“Aren’t you that bitch from before?” A voice breaks through the small moment of peace and you and Din both turn quickly to see a vaguely familiar face. “Didn’t realize that you were royalty, doesn’t seem like much of a guard for a princess, one guy.” He nods at Din who immediately steps in front of you, silent.

You squint, trying to recall where you know him from when two other men step out from a nearby alley, flanking him. That’s when it clicks.

You recognize his welding goggles. And his greasy black hair.

He had accosted you many moons ago, in the market, Din had knocked him flat on his ass for it. Din takes a few steps in their direction, deliberate and deadly. It doesn’t matter how capable you know he is, you still don’t like the sight of him going up against a group of three.

“Look man, this doesn’t have to be a problem, we’ll even pay you for just a couple minutes with her.” The one you recognize quips and you feel sick at the insinuation.

“I’ve never been with a princess.” His friend on the left sneers and you instinctively take a step back. That’s all it takes to send Din over the edge though, you don’t even see the first hit, he moves so quickly. You just see the guy on the left hit the street, a gush of blood shooting out from his nose.

The other two hop into action immediately after, both standing with their arms held up defensively but it does them no good.

The one on the right is stupid enough to strike first, his fist hits beskar and he stumbles back with a yelp. Your eyes go wide when Din kicks his legs out from under him, he follows the first man as he hits the ground, his head knocking against the stones, in an instant he’s out cold.

You gasp at the suddenness of it all.

The one with the goggles loses all his bravado in an instant, he turns and you’re sure he’s about to run but he doesn’t get the chance, Dins hand wraps around his throat and he’s on the ground beside his friends, except he isn’t as lucky as his friends because the Mandalorian doesn’t relent. He boxes him in with his legs as he kneels, his fist slams against the other man's face repeatedly and your ears fill with a sickening crunching sound.

In all honesty you aren’t worried about anyone but Din right now, it isn’t just the man's face that’s making the breaking sounds, it’s his fist as well.

You rush over to them and put your hands on Din’s shoulders, he stops immediately before turning to look at you, his shoulders relax immediately and he reaches for you but he winces when he wraps his hand around your arm.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He whispers softly and you nod.

“It’s okay, but we should go.” You rub his back a bit as he stands.

“I just need a second.”

“Okay. You nod, watching as he leans down, whispering something in the barely conscious man's ear, you don’t catch a word of it but when he’s done he stands and you both begin walking back towards the castle.

☆

“I’m okay, I promise.” He groans as you usher him into the cabin. You’ve been fussing over him the entire walk back.

“Being married means not lying about this kind of thing.” You snap back at him as you open the door.

“I’m not lying, trust me, I’ve had much worse.” You know it’s true but that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to worry.

You frown, having him sit at the kitchen table as you carefully pull his gloves off, both knuckles are jagged and bloody.

“Kriff… do you have a first aid kit?”

“I promise, sarad, it’s fine.”

“Marriage means compromise.” You glare at him as he sighs and you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Fine. In the fresher, there’s a loose board in the cupboard, pull it back and bring me the case that’s in there.” You cock an eyebrow at him before hurrying off to follow his instructions and sure enough you find it, a small metal case. You return to the main room, setting the box down on the table, watching as he fumbles with the lock. He flips the lid open before sliding the box over to you. Your jaw goes slack as you stare at several vials of bacta.

“Why do you have so much of this stuff?” You cringe at the memory of having to apply the sour substance to your split lip.

“For emergencies, which by the way, this is not.” You grab one of the vials as he gestures at his hands, uncorking it and dipping your finger into the slimy liquid before taking his hand in yours, applying a thin layer to it, watching the blood slowly mix with the bacta in crimson swirls.

“You’re hurt, this is an emergency.” He just sighs, letting you do your work, not even wincing one as you do so. When you’re done you recork the vial before putting it back in the case and returning it to its hiding place.

“Thank you.” He whispers when you come back to him, kneeling in front of the chair and helping him out of his armor as he keeps his hands on the table.

“What was that?” You grin up at him as he sighs again.

“Thank you.” He says a bit louder.

“You’re welcome.” You take the last of his armor off before standing. “Now come on, let’s lay down.” You wrap an arm around his waist as you walk to the mattress, helping him down as you keep his hands away from the sheets before laying down beside him, resting your head on his chest. You lean over and flip the lamp off before settling in beside him.

“Did you have a good day?” He whispers against you as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“I had a sad day, but it was still good.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He mumbles in the darkness, his tone quickly turning to one of shame. .

“What? The fight? You were just doing what you always do, you were protecting me.” You let your fingertips roam across his chest in small circles in an attempt to soothe him.

“I should’ve- I shouldn’t have snapped like that. You shouldn’t have seen me like that.”

“Hey. I want to see you like that. I want to see all the parts of you, not just the pretty ones.” He doesn’t respond, and for a moment you have to wonder if you’ve upset him, but then you feel his chest rise and fall sharply a few times. Your hands fumble around until you find his face, the apples of his cheeks are a bit damp as you run your thumbs across them.

You aren’t really sure what to say. So you just go with what you know will make him understand just how okay everything is right now. It hasn’t been an easy week so far for either of you.

“I love you.” You whisper before leaning down to kiss him, your mouth thankfully finding his. “And I can’t wait to marry you.” You lay back down and feel his arms tighten around you, after a few minutes his breathing steadies out and you know he’s okay.

“I love you too.” Is the last thing you hear before you both fall asleep.

☆

One last dinner with Kodo and then you never have to see him again.

That’s what you keep reminding Din as he tries to convince you it isn’t necessary, to which you remind him exactly what happened last time you didn’t attend dinner. Not that you aren’t just as worried as he is, of course you are, you’re just internalizing it better. Most people probably spend the day before their wedding stressing, it’s only natural.

So that’s exactly what you do today.

You stress.

You pace, and you stress until the sun is setting and Din is trying to persuade you one last time into not going which you ignore before the two of you walk the familiar trail to dinner.

You never know what to expect when you walk into the dining hall, but today you couldn’t be more pleased to find Kodo positively swamped. With his fathers condition worsening a fair amount of his royal duties now fall under his son's jurisdiction. He doesn’t look at you or Din when you arrive and you’re thrilled when you see they didn’t set the table for dinner. The entire room is silent save for Kodo scribbling something on a piece of paper, when you go to sit he raises a hand and you stop dead in your tracks.

“No need to sit, this will be quick.” He stands and you feel a sudden urge to stand behind Din, to put something between you and Kodo but you resist. “My fathers condition is worsening, that is the only news I have now I must be off.” He snaps and a servant helps him put on his coat as you watch in stunned silence, he shoots you one last glance before walking out the door. “That will be all.” And just like that he’s gone. When the door shuts behind him you can’t help but burst into a fit of laughter purely spurred on by your disbelief as Din walks you out of the room.

It was just that easy.

You’d spend hours stressing today and it was that kriffing easy.

You’re grinning ear to ear when you turn to Din once you’re safe and out of the dining hall.

“We never have to do that again.” Your voice and excited whisper.

“Never.” He repeats, you can practically hear his own smile.

“Can we go home now?”

“Home?” He looks behind him before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Sorry, the cabin.”

“I still haven’t fixed the bed frame you know.” He’s still walking you in that direction as he says it so you just laugh.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“Then let’s go home.”

And that’s exactly what you do. And when he opens the door to let you in you realize with a profound sadness that this is your last night in the cabin. A place that is the closest thing you have to a home here on Naboo, besides Din. But he’s a person, not a place. This is your home. His home. You can’t help but wonder if the sorrow is getting to him too, leaving is hard, no matter how much you hate certain aspects of this planet there will always be parts that you love.

But you don’t want to be sad the night before your wedding.

So you do your best to clear your head.

“Aren’t we supposed to spend the night before our wedding apart?” You tease as you kick your shoes off, eager to just go to sleep, turns out spending all day being worried is exhausting.

“Why would I want to do that?” He’s taking his own armor off, turning to glare at you.

“I don’t know, tradition?” He helps you out of your dress and you quickly climb into bed.

“That’s not my tradition.” He lays beside you and you on the mattress, groaning as he kneels to crawl in beside you.

“Lights off?” You whisper as your fingers trace the edge of his helmet.

“On?” His voice is soft and hopeful and you smile before promptly closing your eyes, the action is swiftly followed by the sound of his airlock. He kisses each of your eyelids before your lips, pulling you into him completely.

And he loves you like it’s the last time he ever will.

He makes every time feel like the first time with how gentle he is with you, even when he’s being rough. There’s always the tiniest spark of tenderness to him.

But tonight is different.

Tonight he loves you like he’s loved you his entire life.

It isn’t another first time, this time feels like the thousandth, like he knows your own body better than you do. Like he still loves it even after all this time. His hands can’t hold enough of you, his mouth can’t savor enough of you, and his cock can’t fill enough of you. He chases more and more, wanting only to make you happy, to unravel you and wind you up just so he can do it all over again.

However you want it.

That’s what he says when you climb on top of him, sinking down on his length with a groan. So you do it exactly how you want it, which is every way. He takes whatever you give him and you give him whatever he wants. And when he gasps in your ear the single word, posed as a question, inside? You nod, pulling his face closer to kiss his cheek.

“You don’t have to ask, you can just do it.” You murmur, and he does.

A part of you knows just how reckless that is but it matters less now that you’re leaving. Any children who would be born from this union no longer have to live in fear of your current technical husband, because they won’t be anywhere near him by the time they’re born.

So you let yourself stop being afraid of that possibility.

And you let Din love you.

☆

Today’s the day.

Your day.

It feels perfect already, the sun shines in through the small windows, you’re still tangled in each other when your eyes flutter open. Based on the way his breathing sounds you know his helmet is still off so you shut your eyes, letting your head rest on his chest as you relax against him for a few more minutes.

It’s going to be a hard habit to break after today.

Not looking.

Shit.

By the end of today you’ll have seen him. You’re meeting him at the chapel before the sunsets, and you’ll be off planet before morning. And in between that you’ll look. You’ll know every part of him.

You feel him stir, his breathing picking up just a little as he lets his hand wander up and down your spine.

“Good morning, sarad.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“Morning.” You kiss his collar bone, squeezing whatever parts of him you can get your hands on. “What time do we have to start getting ready?”

“Lysa will help you get ready and Elaine and I will set up the church. We have to explain our circumstances to the pastor.”

“Like tell him that your bride is married?” You groan, just wanting to stay in bed with him.

“Like tell him I’m marrying some random servant girl, but more importantly tell him no one will see your face during the ceremony because of the creed.”

“Is that a real thing?” You sit up a bit, remembering to keep your eyes shut just in time.

“Not at all, but he doesn’t know that.”

You pull each other close, your movements synced as you do.

“Are you ready?” His tone is light but you know that if you said no right now he wouldn’t be bothered, he’d wait. It’s a good thing you’re more than ready.

“I have been for quite some time.”

The two of you stay like that for quite some time, for as long as you can actually, until Elaine is banging on the cabin door. When that happens you both sit up quickly, Din helps you dress and in just a few moments you’re both ready.

The next time you see him will be at your wedding.

You both stand by the door, unopened, when he takes your hand.

“I love you.” He brings your hand to his chest as he says it.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” You do your best with the pronunciation, trying to mirror how he says it.

“I will know you forever.” He whispers out and you tilt your head to the side. “That’s what that means. It’s our version of I love you, but it means I will know you forever.”

You squeeze his hand on last time before dropping it and lifting his helmet just enough to kiss him once.

“I will. I have big plans to know you forever.” You smile at him one last time before opening the door, Elaine and Lysa waiting outside.

☆

After Lysa walked you back to the castle things were a bit of a whirlwind.

It was a long arduous process, she insisted on making you perfect one last time. Her sentiment made your heart clench so you allowed her this, considering it a parting gift, one last day staring into the vanity.

She spends the day getting you ready in every way possible and you spend the day missing Din.

Until she gets to your hair and you finally speak up.

“Can we leave it down?” You clear your throat and turn to her as she nods.

“Of course.”

Despite how much time Lysa has spent dolling you up you’re happy to look in the mirror and see you. Clear as day. Not some unrecognizable woman being dressed to the sake of her husband, you just look like you.

When the sun is finally beginning to set outside your window she helps you into your dress.

Elaine really outdid herself.

It’s simpler than some of your other gowns but it’s exactly what you wanted. The dress isn’t wearing you, you’re wearing the dress. You’re standing in the full length mirror when Lysa produces your veil, helping you clip it into your hair so your face will be completely concealed.

“It’s time to go.” She whispers as she adjusts your dress once, smiling gently at you.

“Could I have a minute alone?” You whisper back before she nods and rushes out, shutting the door silently behind her.

You lift the veil and look around the dimly lit room for what will be the last time. Your hand subconsciously wanders up your necklace, you twist the ring hanging there between your fingers as you open the closet door, flipping on the lamp to stare at the bed you’ve made.

You sort of wish you could bring it with you. Your little blanket bed. But you know better than that. As much as you’re going to miss it, after today you’ll have a real bed. A shared bed, with your riduur.

So you say a silent goodbye to this bed. Your first shared bed. And you leave to find Lysa.

☆

You know the plan by heart.

Lysa will walk you in. It’ll be a quick ceremony and then you will get your things from the cabin and leave.

Simple.

Easy.

The church is nestled in the woods, only a few servants ever attend but it’s a quaint little place, covered in vines as you stand outside the large wooden entryway. This is it. You will walk out of this church married to a man you actually love. Just as the sun hits the horizon you know that’s your cue to enter. You take Lysa’s arm, holding her close as she pushes the door open. You’re holding your breath as you look around the church, waiting to lay your eyes on him.

Empty.

You tense up, your grip on Lysa tightens immediately as you both step inside.

Completely barren. Not even a pastor.

“They must be running a little bit late.” You can tell by the tone of her voice that she is just as uneasy as you are right now.

Din wouldn’t be late.

Not to this.

“Let’s wait a few minutes, they’ll be here soon.” She insists before walking you into the church, you both sit in one of the pews.

You wait.

And you hold her hand and you wait.

You wait until the sun is completely set and you’re both bathed in darkness before you can’t take it anymore and you stand abruptly, pulling the veil from your hair and handing it to her.

“Go back inside, hide this, I’ll take care of this.” You walk with her back to the entryway with small frantic steps.

“Ma’am, are you sure-”

“I’ll find them.” You give her a reassuring smile, one that brings you no comfort before watching her rush back in the direction of the castle. The moment you know she’s far enough away to not hear it you finally let out the sob that’s been building in your throat. You don’t have time to break down right now though, you need to find Din.

He didn’t abandon you.

Your mind wants to go there, a part of you whispers that he’s left you all over again but you know with absolute certainty that that isn’t possible.

Something happened.

So you search.

Your heart threatens to burst from your chest as you begin your hunt.

You go to the cabin only to find it just as you left it this morning. You wade through the waters, silently letting your eyes scour the darkness before you run through the gardens. Yet you come up empty once again. Not so much as a trace of either one of them.

So you go to the only other place you can think to look.

The place you had told yourself just a few hours ago that you’d never go back to, and you return to the castle. It’s desolate when you search the halls. Not so much as a guard in the dark stone corridors. It makes your stomach twist in knots. The rooms are empty, and the lights are off.

What the hell happened?

Your lungs burn from the constant running but you can’t stop now, you won’t stop until you find him, and if you search every corner of the castle and he isn’t there then you’ll start searching the rest of the planet.

Whatever it takes.

It probably won’t come to that though, you quickly realize when you finally find a room with the door cracked and the lights on. Any sense of relief it brings you is gone in an instant though as you realize what room it is.

The dining hall.

Your feet carry you towards it before your brain can comprehend what’s happening and you slowly push the doors open, stepping inside. You have felt a range of temperatures since your arrival on Naboo but right now all you feel is a blistering cold that smothers your flesh and bones.

The table is set, and as is the case on all nights where you’re expected at dinner, Kodo sits in his usual place.

Except this isn’t a night where you’re expected.

And he isn’t the only one sat at the table.

Elaine sits on one side of him, looking like she’s about to be sick, Leo on the opposite side, downright refusing to look at you. You feel like you’re going to pass out the moment you see them and you can’t help but note the fact that Kodo’s guards aren’t here.

“Don’t you look lovely.” The nasally bellow of his voice fills the entire hall as you take a step forward. It takes all of your focus to keep yourself from trembling as you stare at him.

“Did I forget we were supposed to have dinner?” You keep your voice surprisingly steady considering the circumstances.

“You didn’t get my invitation?” His voice drips with malice as the doors behind you promptly shut, his tone is enough of an indicator that there was no invitation.

This isn’t some coincidence, you didn’t just happen to stumble upon Elaine and Leo dining with your husband, no.

It’s an ambush.

“I must have missed it.” You murmur.

“Take a seat.” He says it like it’s an offer but you know better than to refuse, not now. You sit at your usual spot, every muscle in your body is tense as you look across the table at him. “Tonight was supposed to be a celebration.” His face contorts into a sneer as he stares right back at you. “But I’m afraid our night has been ruined by some rather upsetting news.”

Maybe you should just run.

His guards aren’t here, you could probably outrun Kodo, especially with how much adrenaline is coursing through your veins right now.

Not without Din.

“Are you okay?” He doesn’t sound concerned, the question burns a hole into you, what could he possibly mean by that?

“I’m fine.” You swallow the lump in your throat, turning to look at Leo, and then Elaine, Kodo following your eyeline the entire time.

“Don’t worry, she can’t hurt you, not anymore.”

“I’m sorry?” The more confused you get the more the feeling of suffocation in your chest grows.

“Your servant, she can’t hurt you anymore, I was actually about to dismiss her right before you arrived.” Your brows furrow as you try desperately to make sense of any of this and he grins. Teeth fully on display as he smiles at you from across the table. “You don’t know?”

“I’m sorry, my prince, but I’m not sure about anything that’s happening right now.” Might as well say it, maybe it’ll get you some answers.

“No need to apologize, not after what you’ve been through.”

You know better than to ask a follow up question to that.

Something is terribly wrong and it would be best to learn as much as you can before giving away any of your own knowledge.

“Leodall told us everything.” If it’s possible for Leo to somehow look at you less, he manages to do so when Kodo says that. “You don’t have to worry about any of it now, I’m going to take care of everything.” Nothing about the faux soothing tone he takes on relaxes you, you’re getting more and more upset with each passing second.

“What did Leo tell you?” The bewilderment in your voice isn’t an act as you fight to keep your voice from cracking.

“About the Mandalorian, dear wife.”

It’s a good thing you weren’t holding a drink, if you did it would be on the floor. You don’t have anything to say, any words you might have to say die in your throat.

“We retrieved him from his quarters and he confessed to everything.” Kodo’s eyes raise briefly as he gauges your reaction.

Din confessed.

“Everything?” When you find your voice that’s the only word you can manage to produce as your stomach churns at the thought. What did they do to him to make him admit what the two of you have done?

“It’s better this way, there’s no need for a trial.” He takes a sip of whatever dark ale fills his glass. Maybe your last act of defiance should be to aim the vomit rising in your throat at him, or at the very least at Leo. “Thank the gods Leo found that book, who knows how long this would have continued if it weren’t for him.”

The Smitten Paladin.

You knew you were forgetting something.

Maybe there isn’t enough time to run but you could definitely jump across the table and strangle Leo, it probably wouldn’t even be that difficult.

Or maybe you should just beg.

Kodo is a man of ego, if you appeal to him maybe he’ll spare Din. That’s unlikely though, the best you can hope for now is a swift death for both of you. Should you just beg for that instead?

“I confessed as well, to all of it.” Elaine turns to stare at you, she looks pained and Kodo’s smile drops the moment she speaks up.

“There’s no need for that.” He hisses, his chair squeaks as he stands but she isn’t deterred.

“The Mandalorian and I both confessed to our crimes, I’m sorry.” Elaine is strong. The entire time you’ve known her that’s been the word you’d use to describe her, but right now she just looks small.

“That’s enough.” His voice rings through the hall as he snarls at her. “You’ve done enough.” But she doesn’t stop, tears form in the corners of her eyes as she reaches a hand towards you.

“Mando told them what he did.” Her words become more and more rushed as Kodo begins to walk towards where she’s seated. “We told them all of it, what he made you do, how I helped him keep you quiet, how he took advantage of you.” Her voice is strained and broken as the loud crack echoes throughout the room when Kodo’s hand comes in contact with her face.

“Not another word.” He growls, his eyes icy and cruel, his hand still raised in silent warning.

How he took advantage of you.

Oh Din.

He didn’t.

You just stare at her. The weight of the world is starting to crash down on you bit by bit as your heart begins to beat frantically.

Kodo sighs loudly before returning to his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’ve ruined the big reveal.” He mumbles before looking back up at you. “Might as well get to your present since she’s ruined the surprise.”

This can’t get worse.

That’s what you’ve been consistently repeating to yourself as this dinner has carried on yet somehow it does.

Everything gets worse when Kodo calls out for his guards.

Six battle droids enter from the door behind Kodo, but you barely have eyes for them, you don’t have the brain capacity to notice them because you only see him right now.

Your Din.

Din who would do anything for you. With his hands cuffed in front of him, his ankles attached with a short chain. Din who is pushed to his knees, a man who should never be in such a position before anyone who isn’t you. Din who only looks at you, even now.

Din who made up a lie, to protect you one last time.

Your Din.

There isn’t a facade you can put on now, nothing can hide the anguish on your face as you stare at him, you aren’t exactly proud when it consumes you entirely.

And you vomit.

The tension in your chest finally bubbles over and you expel the contents of your stomach onto the table. Nobody moves, only you, hands gripping your chair as your chest heaves. You’re vaguely aware of Kodo standing beside you now, he’s speaking but you don’t hear a word, you only hear a ringing in your ears until you look at Din, who nods at you, just once, and everything comes back into focus.

“He can’t hurt you.” Kodo’s voice is sickly sweet in your ear as he hands you a handkerchief from the table set up, giving you a moment to wipe your mouth as you fight back the urge to be sick all over again. “His restraints are state of the art, it doesn’t matter how much of a fight he puts up, he isn’t getting out of them.”

Your brain is trying desperately to come up with some genius plan to get all of you out of this but you're coming up empty.

There is nothing.

“I’m thinking guillotine.” Kodo’s voice is a whisper now as he bends down to speak to you.

“You do public executions on Naboo?” Your voice matches his in volume, but your eyes never leave Din, he’s struggling against them, but six battle droids? It wouldn’t matter if it was six Mandalorians.

“I’m the king now, I can do whatever I want.”

“Tonight was supposed to be a celebration.”

Oh.

“Defiling the queen is considered an act of treason in my eyes, so yes, it will be a public execution for these two.” He points at Din and then Elaine and at this point you have a headache as you try desperately to make the pieces of this demented puzzle fit together. You take a shuddering deep breath.

Leo found the book.

He told Kodo.

Kodo had Din drawn and quartered. He would have been with Elaine, she was taken as well.

He told them he took advantage of you.

That he defiled you.

So you would be guiltless.

And Elaine corroborated his story.

Said she helped him.

They had saved you.

And now they’re going to pay for it.

“Why don’t we see the traitor’s face, guard?” Kodo’s voice tears you from your mental gymnastics as he snaps, pointing at Din and you can’t help it as you shoot up to be standing.

“No!” The word is punched out of your chest, all the air leaving your body with it.

“No?” Din stops struggling as everyone turns to face you now, Kodo’s question rings throughout the room as you try to come up with something, anything, to stop this.

“You wanted to surprise me? Then we should wait, we should save the reveal.” Your words are rushed, you will do anything to keep that helmet on his head right now.

“The reveal?” Kodo hisses.

“No one’s ever seen his face, we shouldn’t waste this opportunity on some random dinner.” Is this even worth it? At this point you’re probably just getting yourself killed.

Now no one speaks. You finally manage to tear your eyes from Din to turn and face Kodo.

“We should save it.” You whisper, you don’t even care if this gets you killed, you just want to keep his helmet on his head until you can figure out how to keep his head on his shoulders.

Kodo’s sneer turns into a smirk.

“What a good idea.” You let out the breath you’d been holding in. “Maybe you aren’t completely bland, wife.” He puts a hand on the small of your back and you manage to keep yourself from recoiling. “Well then, I think we’re done here.” He whistles, once, clear and sharp and a pair of guards take Elaine by the arms, dragging her away but not before you manage to shoot her one last look of gratitude for what she’s done for you.

You finally look back at Din.

Thrashing against the hold that the droids have on him until they yank him up into a standing position.

What you wouldn’t give to be able to say anything to him, even just a single word.

“You don’t have to worry about him anymore sweet wife, it’s over.” Kodo’s words are hot and vile against your ear as he puts a hand on your shoulder, hovering over you as you watch Din being dragged out of the room.

He puts up one hell of a fight, one final reminder of just how strong your Mandalorian is, it takes all six of Kodo’s droids to keep him down.

You don’t like the sight of it.

There’s something fundamentally wrong about Din being overpowered.

You manage to swallow down the sob that threatens to rip through you as you get one final look at him as the doors slam shut, you fight the urge to recoil when Kodo leans down to plant a kiss on the top of your head.

“Your little nightmare is over.” He mumbles, his voice filled with an underlying joy.

It’s just started.

i no longer have a tag list so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates!!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #pedro pascal

557 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 4 months ago

Text

I'm In Control: 5 Years Later (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Pornstars Steddie (Daddy Steve & Sir Eddie) X Porn Agent Sub Fem Reader, SMUT, dp, praising, light hair pulling, after care of course, FLUFF, they love each other, mentions of kids, a bit more emphasis on the readers relationship with TJ.

ANGST! ANGST! ANGST!

Protective Steddie! Reader gets assaulted and hurt by the head of a studio she has a meeting with. The attack itself isn't described in detail. Just mentions of the after math (gets a cut on her head). She mentions feeling uncomfortable with the questions the man asks and tells them how he hit her before she ran out of there. Definite trigger warning for anyone who has been in a similar situation.

TJ and Steddie get revenge showing what happens when you "hurt their girl". Reader briefly discusses how the situation reminds her of her life with her religious parents and feeling stuck or trapped. They remind her that she's safe and they will always protect her <3.

Brief mentions of Steddie's fear of being a father. Very brief.

I think that's it.

Word Count: 5493

Full Series Here/ Donate to Me <3

As you watch both men on set, you can’t help but bite your lip as you try to stifle the moan that wants to break free.

It had been 5 years since TJ let you go to start your own agency and you took off running fairly quickly. You started small in the room the boys had created for you as a work area, managing your three clients as you normally had. As soon as you had enough money and more people to manage, you were able to hire another agent. Someone you vetted personally to make sure they would take good care of their clients and not abuse their trust for financial gain.

After a couple years, you purchased you own floor within a building and renovated it to fit your needs. Currently, you had four agents with 5 clients a piece and you always made sure everyone was comfortable and helping where you could while still managing the men you loved. Avery trusted your judgement when you suggested he work with one of the new people you hired but Eddie and Steve were steadfast on the notion that they didn’t want anyone but you looking after them.

Over the past couple years because of how much they were making, they were able to cut down on how many projects they worked and when they did do them it was triple what they made financially in the past. Eddie was able to focus more on his music and found a good fan base on social media that seemed to genuinely care about what he was playing. Steve seemed to push more towards the technical aspect of films with his free time, asking photographers a ton of questions to learn what he could. For his birthday you bought him a camera and he utilized your gift to do photoshoots for some of the newer actors and actresses who needed headshots to find work.

You still came to the shoots when you could especially when they were filming a scene together like today. As Steve slammed his release into the man below him, Eddie spilled onto the sheets in front of him while his tongue continued to rapidly flick at the clit in front of his face till the actress trembled and screamed obnoxiously in pleasure.

“Cut! Good job everybody. That’s wrap for the day and I’ll call you guys if we need any reshoots.”

“Thanks Cal.”, Eddie beamed as they both sauntered your way. “Baaaaby.”

It was no longer a secret within the industry that were dating the hottest stars in porn especially now that you were your own agent and you appreciated being able to have regular couple PDA instead of hiding your relationship.

“You guys did so good.”, you smile as you tilt up to kiss both their lips. “Are you ready to head home?”

“Yeah, we just need to grab our things. You don’t need to go by the office or anything?”, Steve asks.

“Hm not tonight.”, you answer as you watch them get dressed near their bags. “I’m still waiting for a call from Diamond Studios. The owner has phenomenal productions and I would love to get some clients in that door.”

“They’ll call, baby. They’d be insane not to.”, the metalhead praises as they take your hands in theirs and you head towards your car.

***

Steve softly grins at you as your eyebrows scrunch together while sorting through some of your work documents in your shared bed. They were always attracted to your work ethic and need to make sure everything goes smoothly. They experienced it first-hand since day one and it was one of their favorite things about you.

Dipping towards his nightstand, he grabs his camera, focusing it and taking a picture of you without you realizing until you hear the little click sound.

“Steve.”, you giggle. “What are you doing? I’m a mess!”

“I think you look beautiful; wearing one of Eddie’s shirts with your hair up in that ‘I’m trying to focus’ messy hair bun.”

Rolling your eyes, you lightly kick him with your foot as you both laugh and the metalhead tosses a grin your way.

“Hey. Come here, sweetheart, and look at this.”

As you curl up closer to Eddie’s side, he lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders and adjusts the laptop he had been staring at for a while so you could take a look. On the screen was a gorgeous one-story, four-bedroom house with a lot of square feet that expanded the length of what seemed like a property near the beach.

While flipping through the individual photos, both men commentated on every one.

“That would be a good home office for you, honey. You can keep the window open and listen to the waves.”

“I can use this room for my guitars and recording when I work on my music.”, Eddie adds. “This basement area here Steve can use for his photography developing and equipment.”

“Oh, baby, look. We could sit on that patio at night and just relax.”, the other boy grins as he leans against your bicep.

“It is a beautiful home.”, you smile. “Whose is it?”

“Ours.” Their eyes watch as you sit up and furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “If you really do like it, of course.”

“Eddie… this is a beach front property. It’s most likely super expensive.”

“Not super expensive but it definitely had a price tag. With Steve and my income alone we were able to put a good chunk of money down. I just got the email from the realtor and they said we could move in within a couple of months.”

“But…I…” Your mind continued to reel as you tried to comprehend what was happening. “We don’t need thatmuch space. You know I can work from anywhere in the house and what would that additional room be for?”

“We were thinking our kids.”

You blinked and exhaled heavily at his words.

“Baby, Steve and I have been thinking about this for a while. You’ve been with us through everything for the last 5 years and our porn careers are at the highest they’ve ever been. Now we want to experience the rest of our lives with you and that includes a family.”

“Not right now of course but whenever you’re ready, baby girl.”, Steve coos as he brushes some of your hair behind your ear so they can see more of your face.

“I didn’t think either of you would want to have kids with me.” Genuinely taken aback by your statement, they sit up and turn their bodies more to face your direction. “I’m sorry… I know it’s been so long since what happened at the wedding but…” At your mention of the event that caused them to lose you for a couple of weeks, they couldn’t help but hang their heads. “… I know you both have come so far when it comes to me and our relationship but since we never really talked about having kids I just assumed after what you told me back then that—”

“We’d be too afraid to have them.”, Eddie finishes for you. “I can understand why you would think that but, honestly sweetheart, when I look at you and think about having a son or daughter I don’t feel any fear.”

“You showed us we can be good men and we know with you by our side, we’d be good fathers.”

Smiling at their answer, you tilt towards them and give them each a soft kiss on the lips.

“Yeah you would. Ok, let’s do it. I think it’s the perfect home for us and our future little family.”

###################

“Steve Harrington why are you taking my picture?”, Eddie chuckles as he strums his guitar.

“Hey, I take pictures of everyone and you’re giving me a good photo op right now.”, the other man grins as he snaps another.

“I think you’re just bored because Y/N’s in her meeting.”, the metalhead teased.

This morning you had gotten a call from the studio you had been waiting to hear from and left in the afternoon to meet with him at his office. Unless they had a gig you scheduled for them, both men usually did their own thing around the house until you came back home or visited you in your office like they used to.

“Hey baby.”, Steve coos as he turns to face the front door when he hears it open before his features fall and Eddie watches him run forward, getting up to hastily follow. “Y/N, what happened?!”

As they skidded to where you were kneeling on the floor, the long-haired boy cupped your cheeks in his palms as his eyes scanned over the blood coming from a cut on your temple near your eyebrow.

“I’ll get the kit.”, the other man declared as he ran towards the bedroom.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Everything’s ok. You’re safe now.”

Steve slides to the floor again and tears through the box, finding what he needs as he places the cotton on you wound making you wince.

“I know. I know, baby girl, I’m sorry.”

Carefully, Eddie reaches for your blouse but you flinch as you try to lift your arms. Not wanting to cause you anymore pain, the metalhead rips your shirt with his hands and his jaw tightens when he sees the indent of where your shirt had been yanked against your skin.

“What happened, Y/N? Did that fucker hurt you?”

Instead of answering, you tackled your arms around him as you sobbed in his embrace.

***

Without saying a word, Steve opened the door to allow TJ into their home. Your former boss took in the situation before him as he nodded a silent hello to Eddie who was sitting beside you on the couch.

While you were in the shower they called TJ thinking he may be able to get you to tell them what happened since you hadn’t said a word since you came home. He had known you way before you met them and you told them once you thought of him like a father figure so they knew you felt safe with him.

Grabbing one of the dining room chairs, he placed it in front of you and took a seat.

“The guys told me you three were looking into a house by the beach. Good because this house is way too small for you, angel.”, he chuckles as he nonchalantly glances around the living room. “You were always meant for bigger, better things.”

Your bottom lip quivers at his compliment and Eddie tenderly pets your head as Steve’s worried eyes continue to rake over you from his place against the wall.

“I also heard you were trying to get in touch with the owner of Diamond Studios. The guy who started it was a good man before he retired. I never got to meet the man he passed it off to. But you did this afternoon, didn’t you, honey?”

As you nod, you wipe your eyes with your fingers as the tears begin to fall.

“Did you go to the studio?” He blinks and exhales with a bit of relief when you nod again. “Good. I always said, ‘Never meet anyone at their house alone no matter what they say.’”

“H-He lets his employees go at 2pm.”, you whisper.

“Her meeting was at 1:30.”, Steve growled as his fists clenched under his crossed arms.

“When did you start noticing something wasn’t right?”, TJ asked in a comforting tone.

“He asked me questions that w-w-weren’t about my agents. He asked if I’ve ever been in front of the camera and what I enjoyed… I told him if he wasn’t interested in my agents and their clients then I had to leave.”

“Good, good. Then what happened?” As you began to stutter over your words, your former boss grabs your hands and softly holds them in his. “Take your time, angel.”

“H-H-He grabbed my arm when I tried to get up and s-s-said that he knows I want this because…”

“Because you’re with us.”, Eddie finished when you paused.

“We fought and he hit me…”

“Ok, honey. Is that everything?” When you nodded again all three men sighed in relief. “You’re safe, baby, ok?”

You blinked as your eyes met his. TJ always called you angel but only ever called you baby when that protective dad mode kicked in.

Rising to his feet, he tenderly kissed your forehead before gesturing towards the kitchen for the other men to follow.

“Do you know where he is right now?”, Steve grumbled trying to control his temper.

“No but I can find out. Give me 10 minutes.”

His eyes followed you as you ran after both men as they disappeared down the hallway to the bedroom.

“Take me with you.”

“Stay here and we’ll be back in about an hour or so.”, Eddie commanded as if he hadn’t heard you.

“I’m not waiting here while the men I love go out there and defend me. We do things together.”

“This isn’t a fucking date, Y/N. Now, do as we say and stay here.”

“NO, DADDY!” They paused, turning to face you as you screamed their way. “No. That asshole hurt me. I deserve to see you do whatever you two are planning on doing.” Your defiant features began to falter slightly as the tears began to fall again and the metalhead stepped forward to caress your cheek. “I won’t get in the way, Sir, I promise.”

You saw it in their eyes the more you spoke. The titles were in the driver’s seat the moment you stepped through the door. Someone had the audacity to hurt you and they were going to do whatever needed to be done to not only show you that you were safe but to show the outside world what happens when you hurt what’s theirs.

“His name is Bryce Hunter. He’s at a party at some swanky house downtown.”, TJ rolls his eyes. “I can get you in and then after I deliver my message you can deliver yours.”

##################

“Hey, TJ! How are things going, old man.”

All three men were on alert but especially Eddie and Steve as their angry eyes took in their surroundings. Covered in the metalhead’s leather jacket, you kept your head on a swivel as you searched, trying to help them find who they were all looking for.

“Not so good, Trent. Do you know where Bryce Hunter is?”

“Pfft, that asshole.” The man rolls his eyes as he points towards the stairs. “I saw him go upstairs with one of the other actresses.”

After patting his back as if to say thank you, TJ heads that way and begins opening doors with you by his side, murmuring apologies along the way to every unfortunate couple he caught in the act. At the last door he banged open, a man and a woman hastily jump apart as you back up and take Eddie’s hand in yours.

“That’s him.”

“Miss, go ahead and head back downstairs. Trust us, you don’t want to have anything to do with this guy here.”

As she straightens up her dress, her wide eyes meet yours as she takes in the bandage on your face. Nodding her head, you can tell she knows and understands, squeezing your palm on her way out for emphasis before closing the door after she leaves.

“The fuck is—”

TJ’s fist hits Bryce’s face hard and as he falls to the floor you back out of the away as your boys step forward to stand at his side.

“Hey Bryce. My name is TJ. I don’t think we’ve met yet but I assure you that you are never going to forget my face.” He punches him again and grabs his collar, yanking him up right. “You see that girl over there? Not only did I train her to be the agent and company owner she is today but I’d like to think of her as part of my family. You hurt someone in my family, Bryce.”

“I-I-I—”

“Congratulations, we’re going to make an example out of you tonight. If you or any other person even thinks about touching Y/N Y/L/N, we’ll be by to visit again and we won’t be so nice. Most people in the industry here already know that but just in case can you double check?”

“Y-Y-Yes, sir. I’m…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, Bryce. Yes, you did.” TJ rises to his full height and gestures towards the man on the floor. “All yours, gentlemen.”

“Wait! Wait, I thought—”

“You thought wrong.”, Steve growled as he grabbed the man’s collar and punched him hard.

Your former boss gave you a small smile as you silently thanked him before closing the door behind him.

***

The entire car ride back home was silent but every mile that passed you felt the energy get thicker and thicker with need. The way their dominance oozed while protecting you drove you insane especially when they spoke.

“You had the fucking audacity to put your hands on any woman but especially ours.”, Eddie grumbled as he kicked Bryce’s stomach. “She deserves respect.”

“I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry.”, he cried.

“Oh no, little boy. Are you crying? Are you scared? Probably about as scared as she was when you told her she was a whore and hit her across the face.”, Steve seethed through clenched teeth. “If I were you, I would beg her for forgiveness because your fate is in her hands.”

Bryce’s wide eyes flicked between you and the other two men.

“You don’t want that up to us. If we had it our way, you’d be in the fucking hospital by now. What do you think, baby? Has he been punished enough?”

When all you do is glare his way, he begins to plead desperately.

“Please, Y/N. I’m so sorry. Nothing like this will ever happen again. I promise. I learned my lesson.”

“You’re right, it won’t. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure your studio is shut down and you never hurt anyone else again.”

“NO! Y/N, please, I can’t—”

When he ran forward, Eddie grabbed his collar and threw him back to the ground.

“You should have thought about that before doing what you did and we’re going to help her follow through with that.”

As he kicked him again, your hand reached out to grab his arm.

“That’s enough, Sir.” His chest puffed out as he continued to heavily inhale and exhale, desperately wanting to hurt this man more. Facing Steve, his equally rage filled eyes seem to calm as they meet your softer ones. “I think we’ve punished him enough this way, Daddy.”

Blinking, he curtly nodded and took your other hand as you three walked back out into the party.

Pausing in the doorway of your house, your palm tugged their arms causing them to stop and look your way. You had closed your eyes to try and suffocate the tears that had begun to fall, frustrated at the feeling of being helpless.

“You’re not weak.”, Eddie murmured as he stepped towards you. “What happened wasn’t your fault. I’ve known you for almost six years and I’m 100% positive that you went in there was the same strength and power you always carry. Don’t let a fucker like him make you think you’re anything but.”

Taking your hands in his, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You’re also not weak for being scared. Someone tried to belittle and hurt you. He put his hands on you…”, he growled, closing his mouth as he exhaled through his nose making you cup his face in your palms.

“Is it werid that…I was more afraid for you? I don’t want you to get hurt or lose everything because of me…”

“Baby girl…we would give up everything willingly for you if it meant keeping you happy and safe. You think we care about our fucking careers or anything else more than you? No, little miss. If we ever lost you…” As Steve’s eyes close and his head tilts, you quickly jump into his arms as he holds you tightly. “Fucking asshole is lucky we didn’t fucking kill him.”

Your lips almost desperately crash to his as the needy energy within you implodes. Steve blindly carries you towards the nearest flat service he can find and places you on the kitchen counter as you hastily tug at his belt buckle trying to free his cock from its confinement.

It’s a bit manic the way you pull off your shorts and panties while clinging to his collar to bring him as close to you as possible. You hadn’t even removed Eddie’s jacket loving the heavy comfort it brought you but you needed more. Spitting into your own palm, Steve groaned as you stroked along his length before slowly guiding him into your core.

His large hand takes hold of your lower back, bringing you closer to the edge of the counter as he rolls his hips at a needy pace. Your arms wrapped around him as he rested his head in the nook between your neck and shoulders. With every slap of his hips, his warm breath would warm your skin as he panted out a groan.

“I love you, Daddy, so much.” In response, Steve’s lips attached to your throat as his tongue grazed your flesh. “Thank you for protecting me and taking care of me.”

At your praise, his rhythm increased as he pounded his cock deeper into your cunt eliciting a loud mewl that had you biting into his shoulder.

“Fuck.”, he whimpered as his fingers threaded through your hair and pulled lightly as he felt your body tremble against his as you came.

Tilting your head back, his lips sloppily kissed yours and you hummed at the taste before you felt him back away and ring covered fingers gripped your thighs as you were lifted once more.

Eddie had already removed his shirt and as your nails dragged down his chest he couldn’t help but moan as he carried you halfway down the hallway before stopping to press your back against the wall.

Just as you had done with Steve, you circled your limbs around his neck and the metalhead kept one hand on you as he choppily pulled down his shorts just enough for his cock to spring free. Ever the master of his craft, Eddie utilized his hips to guide himself inside you and adjusted you around his waist.

“Mmph—I love you, Sir. I a-always feel safe with you, baby. Thank you. I’m so happy I belong to you both.”

His grunts had your eyes rolling closed as he continuously hit that sensitive spot inside you that only they could every reach. That desperate feeling washed over you again and you held on to him with all the strength you had as your maneuvered your hips to meet his animal-like thrusts with ones of your own.

As the coil snapped, you rode out your high and whimpered his title till the ecstasy subsided. Pushing his face into your neck, you petted his head as your soft voice hit both their ears.

“I didn’t get scared until he grabbed my shirt. I thought I could talk my way out of the situation like I had done before when I was uncomfortable but when I started to leave and he grabbed me…” When your voice cracks, Eddie leans back so he can see your face as your eyes meet his own. “I know it sounds dramatic but when he hit my head and I hit the floor…all I could think about was you and Steve. How you’d be alone and hurting if I didn’t…make it back home.”

As you sobbed, the metalhead pressed you tightly to his chest and carried you to your bedroom with the other man close behind. After fully undressing you and laying you between them, their lips gently kissed your skin as their hands pet your head or rubbed along your arms.

After lifting one of your legs over his waist, Eddie and Steve guided themselves into your body and a heavy exhale mixed with a mewl left your lips. This is how it was supposed to be; the three of you together.

Between them and tangled in their arms is where you felt the safest.

“I’m so sorry this ha-happened, sweetheart.”, Eddie groaned. “Something like that will never—mmm—never happen again.”

“Because now they know…”, Steve followed. “…what will happen when they fuck with our girl.”

“Ours.”, you repeat as your fingers hold the man’s hand while cupping the metalhead’s cheek with your other.

“Yeah, little miss. Ours. Fuck.”, the long-haired boy whimpered as his lips met yours and both their rhythms matched as they pounded into you, their cocks abusing all of your sensitive areas as you became putty in their grasp.

“M’gonna cum, Sir. Please, baby, j-just like that. Can I—”

Eddie’s aggressive nodding cut off your question and your face pressed into his shoulder as you let go, clenching around him as you came. He soon followed with a strained sounding grunt as fingers tangled in your hair and his hips sputtered as he filled you up.

“C-Cum…Cum, Daddy. Please…I need you to.”

Steve’s sweaty body presses flat against yours as he rolls his hips roughly till you feel his release warm your insides.

Nobody moved as you listened to their breathing slowly return to normal. After a while, they carefully pulled out of you and turned on the shower, waiting for the steam to rise before stepping side. A small smirk painted your lips as they descended on to the tile floor with you in tow, choosing not to even ask this time if you wanted to sit.

Steve delicately ran a rag over your body but your hand abruptly grabbing his gave him pause as you looked over his knuckles.

“Does it hurt?”, you ask in a curious, little voice that tells them you haven’t fully exited the headspace yet.

“No, honey. I mean, it stings a little but probably nothing compared what that asshole is feeling.”

Before you can get the chance, Eddie flashes you his hands to show you the minimal cuts he was now donning on his own knuckles.

“My rings took a lot of the impact. When I get into a fight I usually take them off to be fair but this fucker hurt our girl. He doesn’t get fair.”

You nod as your eyes fell and you curl up into his chest.

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?”

“I…I didn’t like the way he made me feel vulnerable. It…made me feel like…when I was a kid and my parents would scold me and my brother about being evil. He kind of…mentally pushed back…to a place I long let go of…”

Turning off the water, both men helped get you dry and placed you on the counter by the sink so they could look over your own wounds.

“We can understand that. When your vulnerable with us, you’re still in control. You know we would never hurt you. With your family and then Bryce…you felt trapped.”, Eddie explained, validating your feelings as he brushed your hair away from your face so he could place a new bandage on your cut. “Don’t ever forget, sweetheart, that you always have us. No matter where you are, you’ll never be trapped or stuck because we’ll come save you.”

“Kind of sounds like we’re the mob.”, Steve chuckles as he watches his friend cover the gauze with a band aid before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Hey now, Stevie.”, Eddie responds with a fake gangster voice that makes you giggle. “This is our baby girl and NO ONE hurts our girl or else they swim with da fishes, ya hear?”

You’re still laughing as he lifts you in his arms and carries you back to bed.

#############

3 Months Later

“Lucky, slut! Then again, I can never sit still long enough to have a home let alone one by the beach. Lol. It’s a beautiful view, Y/N. I can’t wait to come and visit.”

You grin at your brother’s text as you place the phone down on the table and lean back in your chair to admire your nighttime view of the beach setting in front of you. You three, TJ, and Avery had spent all day moving your things from their house to this new one as well as any of the new furniture you bought on the guy’s instance for the new space to feel more like a home.

“Alright, I think that’s everything. Now you just need to have a homecoming party to christen it.”, your former boss beams as he takes a seat beside you and takes a sip from the beer in his hand.

“I believe it’s called housewarming, not homecoming.”, you giggle.

“Eh, tomato ta-ma-toe.”, he shrugs before gesturing towards your phone. “I, uh, heard that Bryce Hunter was fired from Diamond Studios and a new head took over the company.”

“Huh. You don’t say.”, you playfully pout as you tilt your head.

“Yeah, some kid is in charge of the studio now. Avery something, I think.”

“What did I do?”, the man inquires as he takes a seat near you.

“Look, I just made a call to some people and suggested an amazing young man who I knew could handle a business like that and would be respectful of all the people in the productions.”

“Oh, you’re talking about Y/N getting me the job of head of Diamond Studios.”, Avery giggled as TJ jokingly rolled his eyes.

“Nothing gets past you, kid.”

“Oh, don’t act like you aren’t proud of him. We both know you have a kind heart, old man.”

When your eyes meet his, you deliver him a soft smile silently thanking him for everything he’s done for you and in return he reaches over and tenderly pats the back of your hand.

“Shit! Steve, get your camera. TJ’s showing affection.”, Eddie shouts as he tosses a pizza box onto the table as your boss lets you go and sighs.

“See? This is why I don’t tell you people anything.”

Steve lifts you out of your seat to take it and pull you on to his lap.

“Thank you guys for helping us move. We really appreciate it.”

While everyone talks and enjoys the meal, you take in your little chosen family. Your parents always believed that certain behaviors were sinful yet from an early age none of it made sense to you. To you, these four men were angels and you had no idea where you would be without them. They made you feel loved unconditionally and you trusted them with every fiber of your being. You felt safe and protected which is something you never had growing up.

“Hey, you. Everything ok?”, Eddie asked later that night while you were in bed staring out the sliding glass door that led to the patio outside.

“Yeah. I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you two and the guys.”, you sigh pleasantly, giggling when tattooed arms wrap around your tummy and spin you to the middle of the mattress where Steve lays on the opposite side.

“Hey. You deserve this.”, he grins as he gestures absently around the room. “You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you.”, you smile back as you kiss his lips.

“Trust us, princess. We’ve never been happier. You changed our lives, baby, and for the better.”

Tilting your head back you kiss the metalhead’s lips as well as he yanks you closer to his chest.

“Speaking of ‘baby’. When, um, when did you guys want to…I mean when were you thinking…?”, you stutter making their grins grow.

“Whenever you want, little miss.”

“I can schedule an appointment with my doctor to get off the birth control but whose, um,…”

“Oh my God, Eddie look. The porn agent is blushing at the word sperm. That’s so cute.”, Steve teases as you cover your face with your palm trying to hide.

“No, sweetheart, no don’t hide. Harrington and I planned this out. We’re going to duke it out battle of the death style and whoever is still standing gets to give you sperm.”

They laugh harder when you lightly elbow him in the side and your cheeks get even redder.

“It’s ok, baby. We were thinking since we’d both be dad you know we didn’t need to know. We can just both try… no matter who helped create them they’re ours.”

“Ok. Whatever makes you comfortable.”, you smile, turning red all over again when they both kiss your cheeks.

###################

Im working with an old tag list so bear with me <3

@gracieluvthemoon @e-munson666 @alienthings @lunatictardis

@corrodedcorpses @whoringtonmunswhore @big-ope-vibes

@eddiesguitarskills @brittney69 @mandyjo8719 @hugdealer

@h3llo-k1tt @mynameismothra @local-stoner-bitch

@miarosso @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @arianafreckles

@sweetpuffy12 @mybradforddream @sugar-haus

@manda-panda-monium @justsheerfilth1

@wroteclassicaly @micheledawn1975

@erinsingalong @imogen-m-h @playfuloutcast @spookedbydawn

@cinnamapup @bimbobaggins69

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @skyesthebomb

@sherrylyn628 @eli-flower @aejae-ssi @atomiclilac

@anaibis @chelebelletx @kik51199 @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon @hardladyheart

136 notes · View notes