#his hairline comes much further forward on the right side of his head

[hoardlikegoldenirises]

my favorite thing to do is to have a character gain weight when they are healthy and safe 👍 also i needed to figure out what Kaine's build should actually look like compared to Peter, so I was like, may as well go all the way in and show his different weights.

technically this is for the scar reference I'm making (very slowly) but I figured it would stand on its own fine, so here it is.

[tpwkwriter]

different situatons where h gets jealous and possesive of reader

i just imagined it and im gonna dieee

Ooohhh🤭 another headcannon coming your way!

Warnings: cussing, mentions of Alcohol, drunkeness, jealousy, violence😭

————————jealousy, jealousy—————————

Because of his high status and his constant surroundings of celebrities, fans, paparazzi, TMZ agents harry always had a watchful eye of his girl.It’s not that he didn’t trust y/n, it was the eyes of others he didn’t. Harry’s love for y/n was something so different, he had never felt such love and pride in his girl, he truly loved y/n.

“The returning ex”

Despite this man of y/n’s past being long gone and simply a college fling it still never made sense to why he would occasionally pop back up in Harry’s and y/n’s shared life.

It was a friends birthday party being held at there usual club, y/n remainder sat on a barstool at the bar happy to watch the room of drunks and dancers while Harry was socialising with various friends and work mates around the room, still cautious and aware of his pretty girl sitting at the bar.

“Y/n” a familiar voice heckled.

“James” y/n muttered under her breath.

And there he was the man who took everything from y/n and left within 1 night, despite his actions being many years ago y/n still couldn’t bring her self to be nice to him.

“How are ya” he asked, helping himself to the stool next to her.

“M’Fine” she blankly answered.

“Good, good” he said sipping on his bottled beer.

“Where is he then? The world renounced Popstar?” He asked clearly getting straight to the point.

“That would be me mate”

James’ figure slouched once he saw his replacement.

“M’harry” he said from behind y/n moving forward so he could shake his hand.

“James” he answered shaking his hand.

Harry took no further time in pulling a stool out and sitting himself as close to y/n as he possibly could and putting his hand around her waist.

“I suppose I won’t interrupt anymore, see ya round y/n”

“You scared him away” she laughed.

“Means v’done my job” he said meeting her lips.

“Stage side drama”

If able to, y/n attended most shows, whether that be backstage, side of the stage, in a tier surrounded by bodyguards courtesy of Harry.

She loved it all so much and it never got old.

The loud intro to kiwi filled the stadium, the lights go crazy and the fans give it all they have.

Y/n was in Harrys peripheral all night, the sight of y/n dancing, singing taking the occasional video/photo and making eye contact with her when a song is dedicated to her it reminded him why he did all this.

Y/n was standing to the right side of the stage watching her lover do what he did very best, it wasn’t until she felt a cold arm snake around her waist.

“Enjoying your night” Micheal Harry’s friend whispered into hair.

Harry regretted ever allowing Micheal meet y/n, he was convinced he would make advances if he wasn’t around.

“Very much so” she replied facing him allowing him to lip read over the speakers.

Harry quickly glanced over to his girl and when he saw his “friend” mindlessly wrapping his arms around his girlfriends waist.

H was already high on adrenaline it didn’t take much to push him off the edge.

After the infamous whale, and endless kisses and ‘thank yous’ to the crowd, and still much to his disgust in his peripheral vision, Micheal was still finding any exscuse to be as close to her as he could.

While waving to the sea of people, he speed off of to the side of stage to finally be reunited with his girl, and do something about this Micheal.

“Baby!!” She squealed removing herself from Michael’s loose embrace and throwing herself into her much more comfortable hold instead.

Without a word he just holds her tighter and presses kisses along her hairline, with two hands gently cupping her head, he pulls her out of his chest so he can rest his forehead on hers and speak only to her.

“Love, can you follow the rest of the band f’me and I’ll meet you on the tourbus alright? M’just gonna find Glenn back here?”

She nods and presses a kiss to him, she’s been meaning to that for a while now, the sound of Micheal huffing and puffing behind them really made Harry satisfied.

“I love you, and make sure you stay with them alright” he says against her lips, before slowly releasing her.

“I love you and don’t be too long” she smiles before hurrying off to find the rest, “bye Micheal” she utters before whipping round the corner.

Little to the girls knowledge Glenn wasn’t even here, he just wanted to have a chat with Micheal, perhaps a kind warning.

“You really got lucky with her man” Micheal laughs.

“Yeah, yeah, I did mate I really did, and because of that I’d rather you keep your hands to yourself” he stated, keeping his calm stature but a serious tone.

“Your Harry fucking styles, you could have any chick in the world, and your mad at me for having an arm round a basic girl” he laughs, not catching the drift.

Say what want about him, but y/n, no that’s the line.

With the adrenaline still flowing through his veins, he didn’t fear much at this very moment. It wasn’t until Micheal was backed against a wall that Harry realised he was getting closer to the idle man.

“Say that again” he coldly said.

“I said tha-“

Let’s just say that Micheal was lucky Harry had various security and staff surrounding the backstage area.

“And they called it puppy love”

Y/n had been practically begging for any sort of pet ever since her and Harry moved in together, a companion to keep her company when Harry’s out on the road, y/n worked from home, and there was a puppy needing a home, what could be the problem?

The problem lies where little buddy (there black Labrador) grew quiet clingy and protective of y/n to the extent where even a hug would set the little man off.

“Fuckin’ hell bud” he said, referring to the pup who was currently barking at Harry because of his hand resting on his mums thigh.

“He’s just making sure his mummy’s safe aren’t you baby” she said adoringly picking up the pooch and holding it to her chest where he happily wagged his tail and snuggles into her scent.

Harry then tried again, seeing that the puppy was snuggled in her neck trying to rest, he this time cuddles into his girlfriends side, resting his hand in it’s original place on her thigh and pressing kisses to her shoulder.

However the bliss only lasted around 3 minutes, before the pup found out and started again.

“Oh bud shush your noise” she gently scolded, moving him carefully onto the sofa space next to her.

However buddy made his way back on y/n’s lap and countinued to bark at Harry making it clear that y/n was his mum.

Tired and in need of some TLC, Harry called it a night.

“Bloody pup, I’m going to bed, it’s clear it’s not me he wants” he says patting her thigh and getting up from his position.

“Babe it’s okay, he needs to get used you being around me-“

“No y/n, as long as he’s here we aren’t gonna get any time together” he huffed as he made his way out of the living room and up the stairs.

“I think daddy’s a little mad…and jealous” she whispered to the pup.

Once y/n gently placed the pup in its bed, she headed up to find her sulky boyfriend who was found still sat up against the headboard scrolling on his phone.

“Harry” she began, sliding herself into her side of the bed.

“C’mere” she softly said.

To which he did, he enjoyed feeling that slight bit more vulnerable around the girl, and slid into her arms resting on her chest, she loved using her fingertips to play with the soft curls that sat above his head.

“M’sorry” he mumbled against her chest.

“Don’t be silly, got nothing to be sorry for” she chuckled quietly.

“I was jealous of our fucking dog, s’not right y/n” he continues.

“Hey, hey, I get it, it’s okay, and we will get round to training him promise” she confirms countinue long to comb his hair.

“I know, I know, jus’ don’t like sharing you, you were mine first” he says a low chuckle leaving his lips.

“S’okay, m’always yours, no matter what”

“Unless we get another puppy..then my hands may be a bit full” she added, a small smile curling on both there lips.

“You’d be so lucky” he groaned

——————————————————————————

[golden-afternoon]

Hi this sucks but idc rn. My entire brain is owned by beloved Kaedehara Kazuha at the moment and I wrote this in a fugue state of oh my god he's coming soon everyone stay calm the banner is coming!! Anyway, enjoy my nonsense and may all you Kazuha wanters be Kazuha havers!!

Warnings - completely unedited brainrot to paper, blood, bloody kisses, what the fuck why are they making out he could die

Knock knock knock.

The soft sound jolts you from your current reading. What? Last you checked you hadn't been expecting any visitors and especially not so late in the evening. Either way, you carefully place the bookmark in the place you had been and set aside the book on the table in favor of heading towards the door.

“One moment!” You call out to whoever was on the other side, undoing the lock before opening the door. “Hello…?”

In the fading purple light of dusk, you freeze in place at the sight of the man at your door. He looks beyond worse for wear with his cherry red eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and his snow white hair loose around his shoulders, looking messy and with more streaks of red than you are used to. His clothes are disheveled and worst of all, the blood on his face running in rivulets down from his nose, mouth and past his hairline. How much of it was his own and how much was from whatever unfortunate soul dared to cross him was unclear, but no matter what it sent alarm bells ringing in your head.

“Kazuha?! What-” You began to speak in worry, hands outstretched to gently reach for him to bring the wounded man inside, but he cuts your words short without a single word of his own.

One step forward and his arms were around you faster than you could process; one hand around your waist to draw you near to him and the other tangled in your hair, cradling the back of your head to keep you in place. Before you knew it, you were tasting iron, the unfamiliar flavor sending a shiver down your spine. Soft lips press to yours in a gentle, yet fervent manner, his whole body seeming to sink against you as he does, leaving you reeling and trying to stabilize you both as his fingers curl tighter into you, clinging to you like you would disappear. You had half a mind to protest, both from his clearly injured state taking priority and from the unfamiliar taste of blood seeping into your mouth, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. With a sigh, you gave in, kissing back in equal measure, your arms wrapping more gently around him than his hold on you was as you were unsure where and how severely hurt he was. The last thing you'd want would be to make it worse.

As he felt your arms wrap around him, his lips curled up into a smile against your own mouth, the simple action seeming to spur him on. He took another step forward, the action forcing you to stumble back a little. He kept going, silently goading you further into your home without ever once letting up on the intensity of the kiss, even managing to close the door behind you before bringing his hand right back to your waist in an instant.

Your head is spinning, heart racing, struggling to process it all when he deepens the kiss further, sliding his tongue along yours with practiced ease that makes your heart ache with want. Iron spreads across your tongue and for a moment it scares you, but the soft groan he makes as your taste floods his senses is enough to silence any such feelings. And if you were honest with yourself, something about his blood in your mouth was unlocking something deep within you to be dealt with later.

Ever so slowly, and far too soon, Kazuha began to pull away, his tired eyes opening to gaze at you with a small smile, his lips now smeared red as though it were merely red lipstick smudging from the heated kiss. Even in his messy state he looked absolutely ethereal, leaving you unable to tear your eyes away.

His one hand slides from your hair to gently cradle your face in his palm, his gaze slowly lowering to your own lips. In silence, he brushes his thumb along your bottom lip, gently pulling at the soft flesh with interest. You can feel your cheeks burn more as you realize after all that, you were likely covered in it too. As he always does, he notices your unspoken realization and he laughs softly, the sound coming out even more quietly than usual as he lifts his gaze to meet yours once more.

“Come now, don't be shy,” He murmurs, and you can hear the slight rasp in his voice. The wandering samurai pauses to lean close to press a quick, tender little kiss to your stained lips once more, pulling away with the softest of smiles. “I hope you don't mind my sudden appearance like this. It's just that… after storms and trials, I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather come home to.”

[fantasyismyonlyrealescape]

Whumptober 2024: No. 6 - Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Title: Time Lost

Characters: Kevin Owens & Sami Zayn (Zowens)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 648

A/N: Another addition to Whumptober. Cheers!

Summary: Sami Zayn, not at 100%, insists he's fine and wrestles in a match, getting himself injured further. Kevin is there to make sure he actually seeks out medical this time, not that he has much of a choice with a concussion.

Cross posted on AO3 under user wrestlinginjeans.

Sami Zayn loved working through pain. Well, maybe that was too far of a stretch. He didn’t love it, but he never would turn down a match if given the choice. Wrestling was his life and it was everything that he had ever dreamed it would be. Laying down on the mat now, staring up into the far too bright and artificial lighting positioned above the ring as his whole body throbbed to the beat of his heart, he couldn’t help but question his mindset.

After an unknown amount of time, Sami was usually better at keeping track of time, he felt strong calloused hands on his arms then under his arms, helping him up and towards the ropes. Sami squeezes his eyes shut against the pain and the nausea, breathing in harshly through his nose. By the time he regained some degree of composure, and he opened his eyes, he found himself being assisted up the ramp and through the curtain, surprising himself at the amount of time he had just lost.

A persistent sound louder now was repeatedly nagging him from his left side. It took him far too long to recognize that it was a voice calling his name. He tried to turn his head in the direction of the sound, feeling distinctly like he knew the voice so intimately but couldn’t quite place it. The voice sounded far away now.

The next thing he knew, he was laid out on one of the trainer’s benches. How did he get here? He had no recollection of the walk from the curtain to where he presently was. He tried to place what the skips in his memory could mean, but he couldn’t quite make sense of it all.

A wet cloth is pressed to his head then, concentrated on the right side of his face where his hairline started. It felt cool and comfortable until the biting sensation of alcohol took over and overwhelmed his already overloaded mind. His uncoordinated hands tried to reach up and bat the cloth away only to have the same calloused hands as before grab ahold of his wrists and pin his arms down firmly. The rest of the ministrations were lost on him as he floated somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, riding the waves of pain that seemed so at home in his body.

He awoke to a voice, a different one this time, speaking softly as he found himself back in the land of wakefulness.

“… three bruised ribs, numerous superficial bruises and cuts as well as a grade 2 concussion.” 

(What? Who were they talking about?)

He tried to move his arm to cover his eyes, to block out the light that filtered through his eyelids, only to take a sharp breath at the flare of pain which only got worse as the breath jostled his battered ribs.

“Sami!” he hears the voice from earlier call, the one that belonged to the calloused hands as he tries to curl into himself. He doesn’t remember much after that, until he wakes again this time in another location.

He comes to on what feels to be a bed and the first thing he notices is a warm hand resting on his chest, a hand that he would recognize anywhere.

“Kev…?” Sami asks, his voice nothing more than a croak as his throat burns from having not spoken in so long as the hand rises and falls in sync with Sami’s breathing. Kevin mumbles something incoherent, before opening his unfocused grey eyes and upon seeing Sami’s hazel orbs peeking out from underneath heavy lids, immediately sits bolt upright in the chair he was leaning forward towards the bed in.

“Sami!” and the smile that forms on Kevin’s face at seeing his friend awake is enough to make all the pain that Sami was experiencing go away if only for a moment.

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

And the aftermath, in a new world!

@hobiesgender @hadesdaughter2002 @lirulua

Masterlist

Miles winced hard as he landed on the floor, his back screaming in agony. He’d not anticipated fighting side by side with his counterpart against Kingpin (fighting against Kingpin a second time, even if it was technically a different Kingpin); though the man hadn’t been as big as he’d been in Miles’s universe, he was still much bigger than Miles was and was still hella strong. In addition to his back aching something fierce, his wrist felt like it might have had a hairline fracture, and he could practically feel the way his side was turning purple under his suit.

He twisted to his uninjured side with a groan, pushing himself up on shaking arms and near-immediately giving way to the ground again when he put too much weight on his wrist. Pain went up his arm, sharp and shooting, and he cradled it to his chest the second he was on the ground again.

There was a warm touch to his semi-uninjured side, and Miles flinched away without even thinking. The now-familiar soothing scent washed over him, Hobie doing his best to calm him down even as he reached forward again and grabbed his arm. Miles let him that time, drawing a sharp breath as he felt something firm and unyielding get placed on his wrist. It came out of him in a shudder, but it sort of made his wrist feel better, in a way, so he left it on; when Hobie dropped his arm gently against his chest again, Miles opened his eyes to see a dark brace on his wrist, supporting and compressing it gently.

Then he curled up again, still in pain but soothed by the fact that Hobie was nearby. He’d lost track of everyone, remembered that they’d managed to distract and hold Kingpin down long enough for some higher power to come and take him away (not the cops, Miles-42 was very insistent that the cops were in Kingpin’s pocket, he’d talked to a contact who went through someone else who talked to a different contact who — long story short, it might have been the IFBI or the ACI or whatever equivalent Miles-42 had in his universe), and that they’d scattered once they’d ensured he was pinned and they heard the sirens.

Miles had gone with Hobie, who’d called out a number before turning on his watch when they were a distance away, and the portal had opened with a bright flash. They went through, though Miles still wasn’t really used to the portal thing while he was completely fine, forget slightly injured.

So he gave himself a minute before getting up and realizing that they’re in a room, that Gwen was throwing herself on the bed in the corner, Peni also picking herself up from the floor, Noir and Ham already sitting at a table and talking quietly amongst themselves.

“All right, all right,” Hobie started off, rummaging around in a batter old cabinet that definitely looked like it had seen better days, “welcome to my humble abode an’ all, got some food if you lot want it, got some water — ”

“Drinkable water this time?” Gwen called out from the bed, and Hobie threw something at her. She squeaked as it landed on her, jumping just a bit and then clearing her throat with a light blush as she looked away. Miles snorted a laugh (he could hear it in the back of his head — Gwen’s awkward ‘sorry, sorry, it was…just so quiet’), and Gwen sent him a pleased look as he leaned against the bed. He smiled up at her, and watched as she relaxed just that much further.

“Fuck outta here with that, Gwendy.” Hobie shot back, still digging in the cabinet for food, “I’m offering it, right? Means next time shouldn’t grab what’s not offered.” He tossed a water bottle at Peter B, who had lifted his hand as if he’d wanted one, and at Noir who’d done the same. “And anyway, this is just a layover while we figure out our next step, so better eat and drink while we can. Don’t wanna send ya off to the next fight hungry or anything.”

“What’s it looking like for food?” Ham asked, “cause I’ll tell you now, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse — and those don’t exactly taste great, you know?”

Hobie shot Ham a dry look, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“Not your best, mate.” He said, and Ham drooped dramatically. “I can’t — ”

“Oh, but wait!” Pavitr called out, and Miles jolted hard. Pavitr had been quiet so far, nursing his own wounds from fighting against a Kingpin for the first time, but he’d perked up into the conversation quickly. “What do you eat for meat in your universe? If you’re all animals?”

“Guys!” Margo burst into the room, startling everyone by her panic. She glitched a little, then brightened to a degree that was almost blinding, her voice distorted for a second before everything seemed to snap back into place at the same time. “Too much-too big-too many — bright…Guys, Miguel saw that last jump — ”

The door burst open, and chaos ensued a second time as they scrambled to get away. There was the roar of a motorcycle, but Miles couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Something also crashed through the window just next to Miles, and he felt himself getting yanked up to his feet. They grabbed his most-likely-fractured wrist, and he yelped in pain, and then he was dropped as Gwen lunged off the bed and hovered over him, snarling loudly.

He was grabbed a second time, much more gently, and the bright light of the portal blew into place nearby. Hobie slung his arm around Miles’s waist, quickly but mindful of his bruised side, and practically threw them both through the portal a second time.

[startswitheff]

Honey Gold and Slow

Dean/Castiel You can find it on AO3 here. I don’t know how all this works so I hope I did it right.

It’s morning. They’re in bed.

Dean comes awake to feel Castiel’s scruff abrading gently at the nape of his neck, his long fingers tracing elegant and soft patterns up the length of his thigh and ribs, and his erect dick pressing firmly against his backside.

They made love three times last night, each time more intense and amazing than the last. And this morning Dean is tired and comfy and deliciously sore. And he’s middle-aged, and just so… human. 

But the thing he learned after hooking up with an Angel of the Lord is that a wavelength of celestial intent has no refractory period.

And he’s not sure if he’s trying to make up for lost time or if he really just wants to be with Dean that much, all at once, but they wake up like this often. And even if he’s not in it for the bang, Dean is definitely never going to get tired of being this close to his Cas.

Dean smiles into his pillow, snuggling back into Cas’s warmth. Cas’s fingers tighten on his hip and he shifts, ghosting kisses up and down Dean’s spine to make him shiver despite the warm cocoon of down in which they are nestled. The fingers of his other hand begin to work their way with purpose to the base of Dean’s spine, and lower, until his thumb grazes over his hole, still loose and slick from the night before.

Before Dean can feel any discomfort at the intrusion of that first digit, a wave of cooling grace eases its passage, and Dean sighs in bliss, relaxing back into the touch. Behind him, Cas murmurs a wordless sound of approval, and traces the tip of his nose along the edge of Dean’s hairline, and he shivers again.

The thumb is replaced by a long, slender finger, reaching slowly for the spot where a warm curl of pleasure begins to unfurl in Dean’s gut. The first finger is soon joined by a second, and, after long moments of quiet sighs and muffled gasps, then there is a third. Cas is careful, unhurried, and works him open with tenderness before Dean’s hum of sleepy desire makes his breath hitch slightly and he pushes his whole length slowly inside. 

For several moments, Cas just holds him close and breathes into his shoulder, and Dean leans back against the solid warm plane of his body and feels every inch of skin that is pressed against the man behind him, every breath through the chest at his back. He’s surrounded on all sides, Cas’s firm lines behind him and his strong arms holding him close. Dean can smell Cas’s aftershave and shampoo, and that faint scent of ozone that seems to follow him everywhere. He tips his head a little further forward in invitation and Cas again mouths at the base of his neck.

Cas twitches inside of him, and Dean automatically cants his hips back slightly. He feels more than hears the deep subterranean groan from the angel, who starts up a slow grind with his pelvis. Cas’s hand remains firm on Dean’s hip, holding him still, letting him know that the angel is happy to do all the work this morning.

Dean lets his eyes flutter open, watches the dust motes tinged gold by the morning sun through the slats of the blinds flicker and float through the quiet motel room. It’s still early. They’ve got time.

Cas’s hand drifts up to his chest, and gently grazes over his nipple, pulling Dean closer to his broad chest. A gruff whisper in his ear tells him that he’s so beautiful in this light, all golden hair and golden freckles, and that he’s very much loved.

Cas brushes smoothly against his prostate and the warmth in his belly grows to a heat, and he moans, voice raspy with sleep and with wanting. Cas murmurs soothing nonsense, his breath ghosting against the shell of Dean’s ear, and he shivers again when the angel’s tongue darts out to trace along its edge.

Dean slowly pushes back, idly clenching and unclenching his muscles as the mood strikes, and is rewarded with a deep groan from behind him as Cas thrusts a little deeper, a little harder.

Dean knows that Cas can hold off his orgasm almost indefinitely, that they could spend the morning lazily trading touches, until Dean is a half-melted puddle of pure pleasure, before finding release. And if they were home, then yeah, Dean would consider it, as he would also consider making Cas get up afterwards to fetch coffee so that they could while away the rest of the day snuggling in bed. 

But they’re still a half day’s drive away from home, and once they get there, they have a lot of hard work ahead of them. They can prolong this blissful interlude as long as they want, but as soon as it’s over they need to get back to the real world, to their responsibilities. To their family.

Cas pushes in again, deeply, as if he is trying to embed himself permanently into Dean’s body, into his soul, and Dean twists his head around, blindly seeking his lips. On his next thrust, Cas steals Dean’s moan with an open-mouthed kiss and a sharp spike of pleasure darts along Dean’s spine.

The angel’s bottom arm works its way between the mattress and Dean’s ribs to snake around his torso and keep him in place, while the other one purposefully makes its way to where Dean’s neglected cock, now fully hard and leaking, is bobbing gently against the sheets. He closes his long, warm fingers firmly around his length and Dean bucks up into the grip, softly chanting Cas’s name in time with the movement of Cas’s wrist.

Fine tremors wrack his body as Cas brings him softly and yet inexorably closer to the edge, and a tingle starts up in his fingers and toes that has him curling them unconsciously against the bedding. Cas continues to murmur and soothe, the soft rumbling timbre of his voice a balm against the rising tension within him caused by the slow steel of Cas’s body against him, inside of him.

When he comes, it’s sweet and presses behind his closed eyelids and spreads a honeyed warmth along his languid limbs. He sighs Cas’s name and surrenders to the strength and care of the man behind him. Dean’s own name puffs out against his ear, a benediction, and Cas throbs inside him as his thrusts stutter and still.

For a long time, he feels only the warm silk of Cas’s skin against his own and the golden light of morning against his closed eyelids. Cas slips out of him, slowly, gently, and he shifts to his back before he opens his eyes. 

Cas is looking down at him, the morning sun behind his head haloing his hair with gold and making his luminous blue eyes glow even more strongly from his half-shadowed face. Dean smiles at his beauty and leans in for a kiss, his eyes fluttering shut once more as Cas lavishes his lips with love and attention. They pull away, but remain close enough to still breathe each other’s air. Dean lets his eyes roam around the room, falling on their neatly packed bags and their cleaned weapons. Everything is ready to go. Just not him. 

Not yet.

[limitlessscion]

❛ I regret that day. I regret . . ❜ Suguru used the nail of his thumb to trace the shape of Satoru's jaw line, from his ivory hairline down to his chin. Sugilite eyes were gleaming bright. Mischievous. Thumb ascended to reach Satoru's lips, whereupon he pressed his nail into the supple mass of his lower lip until it was red and irritated. Then he pressed some more.

❛ I regret not staying longer, so I could watch you go insane with grief and loneliness. Watch you cry with rage and fumble over your words. I bet not a single day went by where you didn't think of ME. ❜ At the same time, Suguru's left palm splayed about Satoru's abdomen. Featherlight touched transformed in an instant, and fingers dug harshly as though he sought to rip out his liver.

❛ Right, Satoru~? ❜

Letting that touch through Infinity was simply reflex; for a moment they were just kids again as some dumb argument sparked between them and sharp words turned to sharper action and Satoru had always been weirdly principled about this one thing; if Suguru couldn't use his technique because of campus rules, neither would he. Unlike that distant memory Satoru did not fight back this time, covered gaze focused on his once-friend and breath held as if any motion from him would make the vision of Suguru collapse into smoke and simply drift away.

Smoke he was not. The finger that traced Satoru's skin was solid and real and there as no mistaking the aura that drifted around Suguru in swirls of browns and blacks steeped in a deep warm richness. It felt like the only home Satoru had ever known locked away in the past and transient dorms they'd shared all their free time in. Years separated him from those halcyon'd days, the distance stretching only further with each passing day yet he was flung into it all at once with the softness of Suguru's words. Satoru had never been able to afford the luxury of "regret", and yet—

"Suguru—?" He finally managed a word of his own, his questioning cut short by the aggressive press of finger into lips. All gentleness melted into viciousness then, and Satoru stumbled a half step back at the sudden intensity and pressure, back hitting the wall, one hand splaying at his side to brace himself against the surface while the other grabbed at the wrist at his abdomen. Funny, how that was his defensive reflex to resist the claws digging into him with violent force while Infinity stayed quiet still.

The sound of his own name cracked like a whip and lit a fire; in an instant Satoru bit the finger at lips hard enough to taste blood before tearing his face aside to free himself of that grip. Crimson painted his teeth as he spat his next words out through a snarl.

"Wow, you are so full of yourself."

He was right though. The sight of Suguru's retreating back haunted his nightmares, the trauma of losing his best friend weighing down ever step. It had consumed years of his life in desperation; to undo the death sentence; to bring him back; to fix this; culminating in that awful lonely night when he'd truly realized he'd lost the most important person in his life.

Suguru's always been capable of cruelty and Satoru matched it with a fierce anger of his own. Fingers tightened around the other's wrist with crushing strength but he did not pull them apart, simply locking his one and only in place as he leaned forward, pressing their bodies closer, unheeding of the pain as fingernails dug in deeper against the pressure.

"You must have had quite an obsession to be projecting it this hard. Couldn't stop thinking about me so much that you had to come visit yourself, right?" His free hand pushed off the wall and for a moment it gently snaked its way up the back of Suguru's neck, fingers threading into his hair. Then those fingers curled suddenly into a vice, twisting strands hard into his grip and he yanked the curse user's head back and down with a violent tug, forcing him to look up at Satoru's face towering over him.

"You still want to see that rage, Suguru?"

[hollandorks]

shadows in the night

battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader

chapter eight

summary: more than a year after the events of middle of the night, y/n and Bruce are happily engaged and working to lower the amount of crime in Gotham. However, a new killer calling himself the Riddler has other plans for their happiness…set during the events of the movie, mostly canonical, some changes made to fit the story

a/n: Finally posting another chapter! I’ve had terrible writer’s block and burn out lately, and only have about 11 chapters written, so I’m scaling back on posting a little so I don’t run out of stuff to post! That being said, I’m still aiming for posting once a week. Hope you enjoy this chapter! 

If you’d like to support me further and get a teaser (or the whole next chapter), here’s the information and link to my ko-fi!

Series Masterlist

word count: 5227

Gotham would always be dangerous, and Batman would always be in danger.

There was blood on the floor. 

Lights flashed quickly between red, purple, blue, and yellow to the beat of a song y/n couldn’t quite make out. As the lights changed, the blood on the floor spread. 

She slipped in it. Who did it belong to? A person couldn’t live after losing that much blood. 

Whose blood was it? 

She kept slowly inching forward, afraid of what she’d find, but more afraid to turn away. If she turned away, they might die without her help. Panic inched acidic fingers up her throat, choking her. 

To her right, a door opened, the light beside it turning from red to green. She slipped again in the blood in her hurry to get away, knees smarting as she went down hard. No. She couldn’t be back in the club–it was impossible. 

Blood stuck to her hands and knees where she had fallen. 

“Get up,” a familiar voice said as a cloud of vapor enveloped her. She coughed at the chemical smell. 

Her body obeyed without her telling it to. 

When she stood upright, her eyes met that of James Maxwell. He grinned, mouth bloodied, his shirt unbuttoned as he stepped out of the private room. 

Y/n tried to scream, but she couldn’t move. 

“Look what you’ve done.” 

Her eyes looked despite how hard she fought not to. 

The blood wasn’t just coming from one body. 

It was coming from several. 

She saw a flash of blonde hair, Lena’s familiar tattoo, blue eyes that she knew better than her own. 

She screamed and screamed but nothing came out. She was trapped in her own body. Trapped with the deaths of everyone she had ever cared for–

“Hey,” said a voice. The sound of it cut through the fear and panic. “It’s okay. It’s just a dream.” 

With a jerk, y/n woke up. 

But she still couldn’t move. Tears dripped from the corners of her eyes into her hairline. She was on her back and she couldn’t move. 

Panic choked her. Smothered her. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. There was–there was blood on her–she had to move, had to get the blood off, she–

“It’s okay,” Bruce murmured, kissing her temple. His fingers traced the inside of her arm. Her fingers curled, the feeling returning to them with sharp pins and needles. He pressed his hands against her hip, her thigh, her hair, her neck. His touch was an anchor. “You can move. You’re not drugged. It was just a dream. You’re okay.” 

With a lurch she was able to curl onto her side. She bit back a sob. Bruce wrapped his arms around her and rubbed soothing circles into her back.

“I’m sorry,” she cried into his chest. He shushed her and kissed the top of her head. 

“You’re okay,” Bruce said again. “I’ve got you.” 

“I shouldn’t–I shouldn’t have gone back,” she said. The words were muffled by her tears and Bruce’s shirt. 

Bruce hummed and shushed her again. 

He didn’t tell her she was wrong, though. She’d mostly gotten her nightmares under control in the past few months. They had become less and less frequent, only happening once a week or every other week or so. 

But they usually weren’t this bad. It had been a long time since she had woken up unable to move. A long time since Bruce had to use his touch to ground her. 

Going back to the club had taken something from her. Something vital. Something important. 

It had taken her peace. 

It took her a while, but she finally fell asleep again, curled into the safety of Bruce’s arms. 

–

Y/n finished her hair and makeup for the funeral with a few minutes to spare. Bruce was downstairs, already dressed and ready, working while he waited for it to be time to go. 

She wasn’t entirely sure he had slept. If he had, it hadn’t been for long. When she woke up to her alarm after a few too-short hours of sleep, the bed beside her was already empty and cold, Bruce’s chosen suit missing from its place in the closet. He must have gotten up sometime after she had fallen back to sleep after the nightmare. 

She stepped out of their room and headed for the basement. It was almost time for them to leave, and she was positive Bruce wasn’t really paying close attention to the time, which happened often while he worked. 

Just as the elevator doors were closing, Alfred stepped inside after her. “I was wondering what you two were up to,” he said pleasantly. 

An image of what, exactly, they’d been up to a few hours ago flashed through her mind. She tried to will the heat from her cheeks before Alfred could notice. She hoped her discarded underwear wasn’t lying around somewhere obvious. 

The doors slid open, and a familiar voice echoed through the station. Bruce and Selina. 

“She a new friend of yours?” Alfred called out as he stopped behind Bruce. 

“I’m not so sure,” Bruce mumbled. On the screen, Selina met y/n’s eyes in the bathroom mirror. 

“Is that–y/n?” Alfred asked as if Bruce hadn’t spoken. Y/n looked away. Her eyes landed on, of all things, her underwear from earlier. She cursed silently and tried to will the heat out of her cheeks.

“Shall I take this as a good sign?” Alfred said. Y/n tried to very subtly kick the underwear underneath the closest table without Alfred noticing. Not that he didn’t know what she and Bruce got up to, but it was still embarrassing. Especially for him to realize they did it down there, where Alfred could appear at any moment. Where they worked. 

“What?” Bruce barely looked up. He was busy studying the screen in front of him. Probably getting angry all over again that she had turned up at the Iceberg Lounge, she mused. They hadn’t exactly resolved their argument earlier. 

“Your attire. Are you two making an actual appearance?” Alfred seemed almost delighted. He was always pushing for them to both make more appearances, together and apart. Y/n got a little more press because of the Gotham Project, but its grand opening months ago was the last time either of them had been seen so publicly. 

“There’s a public memorial for Mayor Mitchell,” Bruce explained. “Serial killers like to follow reactions to their crimes. Riddler might not be able to resist.” It’s what he’d explained to her earlier. She still didn’t know how she felt about it–but at least they would be facing it together. Like she’d said, what could possibly go wrong at such a huge, well-secured event? 

“Oh, that reminds me,” Alfred said. He tucked his cane under one arm and removed a paper from his pocket. “I’ve taken the liberty of doing a little work on this latest cipher. The one from the rat maze. I’m afraid his Spanish is not perfect, but I’m fairly certain this translates to, ‘You are El Rata Alada.’”

He handed Bruce the copy of the rat maze’s cipher with the phrase written on it in Alfred’s neat hand. She and Bruce locked eyes for a brief moment. 

“Rata Alada?” Bruce said. He frowned. “‘Rat with wings’?” 

“It’s slang for ‘pigeon.’ Does that mean anything to you?” 

Y/n sometimes forgot that Alfred used to work for MI6. She felt stupid standing next to them both. She’d taken Spanish in high school but all she remembered was how to count to ten and how to order a beer. 

“Yeah,” Bruce said. “A stool pigeon.”

She wondered briefly if they would notice her googling the phrase. 

“Where are your cufflinks?” Alfred suddenly asked. 

“He couldn’t find them,” y/n said at the same moment Bruce said, a bit sullen, “I couldn’t find them.” 

Alfred immediately started removing his own cufflinks. “Well, you can’t go out like that.” 

“I’m pretty sure the cufflinks are still in the sleeves of one of your other shirts,” y/n said, but Bruce paid her no mind. He was too busy trying to argue with Alfred. 

“Alfred, I don’t want your cufflinks.”

“You have to keep up appearances. You’re still a Wayne. You don’t want y/n to look bad, do you?” Alfred winked at her. 

Bruce scoffed. “And what about you? Are you a Wayne?” Y/n elbowed him in the side. Apparently rewatching the footage from the club had put him in a bad mood again. 

“Your father gave them to me,” Alfred said flatly. Bruce winced then studied the cufflinks. Served him right, y/n thought dryly. 

Y/n gently took them from him and helped him put them in. “Thank you, Alfred,” she said with a pointed look at Bruce. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, sounding almost like a sullen child. “Sorry,” he added when she lightly stomped on his foot. 

“Any time,” Alfred said. When Bruce wasn’t looking, he winked at her again. Nothing got past Alfred. 

“We should go,” y/n said once the cufflinks were secured. She had to admit, Bruce looked good. Better than good. Her dress in comparison felt frumpy. It was a simple black number with long sleeves and tights to ward against the cold. She’d chosen practical boots in case anything did happen. She never wanted to be caught unprepared in heels again if she could help it. 

“Be careful,” Alfred told them as they made their way to the elevator. 

“Always,” she called over her shoulder. As the elevator doors slid shut, she saw Alfred roll his eyes. 

She and Bruce collected their coats before getting into his tiny sports car. She still had no idea how his tall, muscular frame fit into such a small car. 

“Is it too late to ask you to stay home?” Bruce said as she slid into the passenger seat. 

“Yes, way too late,” she said with a raised eyebrow. 

“I just–have a bad feeling about this,” he said as they left the garage. 

She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Yeah. So do I.” 

The chanting of a huge crowd reached them first. No more lies. 

The crowd was bigger than she could have guessed, holding handmade signs, bundled up for the cold as they chanted. One man was even wearing a rough approximation of the outfit the Riddler had been wearing on his livestream. Y/n shuddered. 

At least there were police everywhere–keeping the crowd under control, directing traffic, riding past on horses as they surveyed everything. 

Y/n cursed under her breath as a cop directed them where to go. A crowd that big and that unsettled was never a good thing. Gotham had seen its fair share of riots–political unrest, heatwaves, recessions, any and every excuse the city could find to give in to its violence. It had been a while since the last riot, the last one around the same time as her mother’s death, which only made it even more of a perfect storm. 

“Guess a lot of people are fed up with Gotham,” she said as Bruce put the car in park. He grunted in agreement. 

The moment he stepped out of the car, the gathered press and paparazzi–cordoned off in their own area away from the larger crowd–started yelling his name. She blinked and found herself back at that gala for a moment. She remembered the flashes of light, the people calling his name, the noise of it all. 

She blinked again and Bruce was there holding out a hand for her. 

“Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne! Bruce! Y/n! Y/n! When’s the wedding? Have you found a dress? Mr. Wayne!” 

She clutched Bruce’s hand more tightly as he handed the keys and a tip over to the valet. She could tell he was uncomfortable. His shoulders curved inwards and he was practically crushing her hand. He hated crowds. Always had. She wondered if this reminded him of his own family’s funeral. She remembered the news coverage. The crowds had been just as massive, but more somber. There were no protestors, and the press had been respectful. 

This funeral was like a madhouse. 

A familiar voice caught both of their attention. 

When they turned, the Penguin was opening a car door for Carmine Falcone. Falcone in turn helped a woman out of the car. 

“Is that Selina?” she murmured for only Bruce to hear. The woman was roughly the right height and build, the leather boots similar to what she had worn in the club. 

“I don’t know,” he said distractedly. His eyes were locked on Falcone and the Penguin. He practically dragged her after them. 

Bruce was stopped in his tracks by none other than the Penguin. He immediately angled his body so that he was between the Penguin and y/n. His shoulders straightened, his body lengthening as his instincts took over to protect her from a threat. For a moment, she could perfectly trace the edges of the Batman suit around him as his instincts took over. 

“Hey! Give us a wide berth here, would you, slick?” the Penguin said sharply. In the daylight, the scars on his face were uglier than ever. 

Y/n gave in to the urge to hide behind Bruce. Otherwise one or both of them might cause more of a scene than what was already happening. 

Falcone and the girl turned. Not Selina, but Carla. 

“Hey, watch it, fellas,” Falcone said easily. “You got the prince of the city there, and his future princess. Some event, huh? Brought out the one guy in the city more reclusive than me.” Falcone stepped closer. He nodded towards y/n. “How you doing, sweetheart?” 

Bruce was practically vibrating with tension. “Thought you’d never leave the Shoreline. Aren’t you afraid someone’ll take a shot at you?” It sounded vaguely like a threat. She knew that was because Falcone had spoken to her. Did Falcone know she used to work for him? Or did he only step in at the Iceberg Lounge after she’d left? She’d barely even heard his name mentioned when she’d worked there. He was simply the owner. Everything had gone through the Penguin who was now, it seemed, barely more than a dog kept on a much shorter leash. 

“Why? ‘Cause your father ain’t around?” Falcone glanced at the Penguin. “Oz, you know Bruce Wayne? And his fiance, y/n?” 

“Wow, is that right?” the Penguin said flatly. He locked eyes with her for a moment. She knew then, in that moment, that he recognized her. But for some reason he was pretending in front of Falcone that he’d never met either of them before. That he’d never had y/n beaten. That Bruce hadn’t shouted at him when he’d paid off her debts. 

Falcone continued as if the Penguin hadn’t spoken, his audience of cronies held captive. Bruce shifted so that she was firmly behind him again. “I got shot in the chest. Right here.” He indicated a spot on the right side of his torso. “I couldn’t go to no hospital, so we showed up on his doorstep. Operated right on the dining room table. Kid here, he saw the whole thing, up on the stairs looking down.” Y/n went still. Bruce had never told her that story. “I remember your face. You don’t think that meant something, he did that?” 

“It meant he took the Hippocratic oath,” Bruce snapped. His voice was tight. A little vibration went through his body. Like his anger was barely restrained. She fisted her hands in the back of his wool coat. 

“Hippocratic oath,” Falcone repeated. His eyes flashed behind the lens of his glasses. “That’s good.” 

But Bruce had had enough. He grabbed her hand and yanked her along none too gently. “Excuse me.” 

Falcone’s laughter reached them as they walked further into the building.

“You never told me about him and your dad,” she said as their walk finally slowed. His body trembled slightly, and then he relaxed, his hard edges softening back into the shyness of Bruce Wayne.

“I don’t like to think about my dad,” Bruce said. He let go of her hand. She subtly rubbed at the knuckles. She noticed that he had the shadow of a bruise under one eye and had to resist pointing it out. “But I’d forgotten, until I saw him again.” She knew he meant Falcone.

Bruce’s eyes darted around the space, every echo of sound making him tense up again. He was searching for the Riddler. She had no idea what he was looking for exactly, but she was on just as high alert as he was. She doubted the killer would show up in his costume. Probably he would be dressed like everyone else, in nice funeral clothes. 

An announcement came over the loudspeaker as they made their way to the front. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming to today’s memorial for our beloved mayor, Don Mitchell, Jr.” Y/n couldn’t help but think that Mitchell hadn’t been the real mayor. Not yet. The election was in just a few days. A man tried to push his way past the partition. Bruce placed himself between the man and y/n, but the closest cop already had it under control. 

The announcement overhead continued, “Our program will begin shortly. As a reminder, the family asked that those wishing to honor the mayor’s memory consider a donation to the cause most dear to his heart…the Gotham Renewal Fund, our city’s safety net.”

Another man in the crowd next to them started muttering angrily. “What good’s a safety net doesn’t catch anybody? Didn’t help my daughter when she needed it, I can tell you that.” Y/n winced. It hadn’t helped her mother, either. That’s why she’d had to turn to the Penguin. “The guy was just another rich scum-sucker. He got what he deserved. Know what I mean? Hey, don’t I know you?” The man peered up at Bruce, then looked at her, his face clouding with confusion. 

“Bruce Wayne!” an unfamiliar woman’s voice called. “Why haven’t you called me back?” 

Y/n and Bruce both turned. “I’m sorry?” Bruce said quietly. His hand tightened around hers again. She wasn’t sure if it was for her comfort or his own. She couldn’t say she minded. She was almost as on edge as he was. That bad feeling they had been talking about was getting worse by the minute. 

The young Black woman smiled. “I’m Bella Reál. I’m running for mayor.” She shook hands with first Bruce, then y/n. “I wouldn’t be bothering you here, but your people keep telling me you’re unavailable. Will you both walk with me?” 

As they started walking, Bruce’s eyes followed the man who’d just been speaking. Could that man be the Riddler? The way he’d been speaking made it likely. Even y/n could tell that. But based on the number of protestors out there, a lot of people felt similarly. It could be anyone. It could be multiple someones. 

Y/n made herself take a deep breath and look around. Bruce was doing the same beside her.

“Mr. Wayne,” Bella Reál said firmly. “Mr. Wayne.” 

Bruce finally gave her his attention again. “You know, you really could be doing more for this city. The Gotham Project is your fiance’s brain child, not yours. Your family has a history of philanthropy, but as far as I can tell, you’re not doing anything. If I’m elected, I want to change that. I would like the three of us to work together more, maybe taking the principles y/n has instilled in her project and making it more city-wide. With your help, of course.” The woman turned and gave y/n a smile. “You really should be encouraging him to do more.” 

But y/n was watching Bruce, whose attention had firmly turned towards Mitchell’s son. 

Her heart sank. The kid had found his dad. She had a flash of memory of her mom’s body, so small in her bed at the end, and empathy rose hot and sharp in her chest. A kid should never have to lose a parent so early and so violently, she thought. She was overcome with the need to talk to the boy, to tell him the words that would have helped her after her mother’s death. 

Y/n broke away from them to go up to the kid with a murmured excuse. She would let Bruce sort out whether or not he wanted to entertain more philanthropic avenues. Or he could blow off Bella Reál yet again. But she had to talk to that kid. 

“Hey,” y/n said to the boy as she squatted before him. Not her most ladylike moment, but words were crowding in her throat, choking her until she could say them. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said distractedly to Mitchell’s wife, who sniffled and wiped at her eyes. Y/n turned her attention back to the boy. Bella Reál was behind her saying her own condolences. So Bruce had blown her off again, then. 

“You don’t know me,” y/n said gently to the boy, “But I just wanted to talk to you for a minute, if that’s okay?” 

The boy nodded. “You’re Mrs. Wayne.” 

Y/n rocked back a little bit at the name. “Well, not yet.” She flashed him a smile. “Guess I better get used to being called that though, huh?” The ghost of a smile from the boy, who was so clearly trying to keep it together. “I know a lot of people are saying that they’re sorry, and that it gets easier, but I wanted to tell you that I know what it’s like. My mom died a few years ago, and I wish I’d had someone at her funeral tell me how hard it was going to be.” The little boy sniffled. Tears pricked y/n’s eyes as she thought back to her mom’s funeral. She pressed on. “And it will get easier, but it’s going to take a while. I lost her years ago and it still makes me really sad. I know you don’t know me, but I just want you to know that it’s okay to be sad. And one day you’ll think more about the happy memories of your dad and less about how sad you are that he’s gone. Okay?” 

The little boy nodded. His chin trembled. She saw the boy’s mom listening and pretending she wasn’t, giving them space. Tears streamed silently down the woman’s cheeks. “Thank you,” he mumbled as he rubbed his eyes with one hand. “Everybody is treating me like a little kid, but–” 

The kid paused and tilted his head. 

“You okay?” y/n asked a bit worriedly. The boy had found his father’s murdered and mutilated body, after all. 

“You hear that?” he said as he stood. He grabbed y/n’s hand and tugged her towards the center aisle. “I hear something.” 

“Uh, okay,” she said uncertainly as she followed behind him. But the noise had reached her too. Screams of fear from outside. Her heart sank as heads whipped around to the front of the church. The little boy’s grip tightened on hers. There was a distant crashing noise. More screams. 

Bruce looked over his shoulder at them, then whirled back around and looked up. Silhouetted against the brightness of one of the arching windows was one, lone figure. She saw a glint of light off of glasses lenses.

“Bruce,” y/n called out, but he was still looking up at the figure. 

She had a really, really bad feeling about this. Her heart started to pound. 

As soon as she had the thought, a car came crashing through the front of the church. Y/n pulled on the boy’s hand, but he was frozen in fear and not as light as he looked. 

Bruce was already sprinting towards them, his face a mask of cold calm and determination. She snatched up the boy right as Bruce’s body collided with them and rolled them out of the car’s path. She tucked the boy into her body as they fell. Bruce’s hand was on the back of her head, holding her close. Her breath left her in a whoosh as they collided with the unforgiving stone floor. Her elbow and hip cracked painfully. 

The boy was already being tugged out of her arms by his mother. 

She and Bruce glanced at each other, and then up. 

The figure disappeared as everyone else rushed back to the gallery railing to survey the carnage below. 

“Bruce,” she said quietly. Her hands gripped the lapels of his suit jacket tightly.  

“Are you hurt?” he asked. His attention was fully on her now. He brushed a hand across her arms and ribs as if to make sure nothing was broken. “Why didn’t you move?” he demanded. 

“That kid’s more solid than he looks!” she said. “I’m fine. Just bruised I think.” She lightly touched the hip that had hit the floor. She winced. Definitely bruised. 

Bruce helped her to her feet as chaos erupted around them. There were cops everywhere, including Gordon, who was shouting, “Get out of the car! Get out of the car and show your hands!” 

Bruce stepped between her and the car. She clutched the back of his coat and peered around him. 

The car door opened. 

“Get out! Show ’em!” Every cop that had been on security duty had their guns pointed at the vehicle, which was spray painted in all kinds of symbols and letters. 

The man who stepped out was familiar. 

He was in the same outfit he’d been in the night before. 

“Fuck,” y/n muttered, just as Gordon said, “Christ. It’s Colson.” 

In the same moment, another cop shouted, “There’s a bomb around his neck!” 

There were gasps and more screams from the crowd. 

“Get back, now,” Bruce growled at her. But when he didn’t move, neither did she.

There was something bright yellow on Colson’s chest. 

A phone rang, and the crowd screamed and ducked as one. She and Bruce stood rooted to the floor. 

The yellow thing on Colson’s chest was another card. 

To the Batman, it said. 

“Let’s clear this place out now!” Gordon shouted. The cops immediately got to work ushering everyone out. Gordon met her gaze. He nodded at them, then inclined his head towards the door. The message was clear: get out. 

Bruce remained frozen, staring at Colson. At the card taped to his chest.

The card addressed to him.  

“Bruce,” she said. “We gotta go. Now.” She tugged on his coat. “Please.” 

He finally broke away and followed her out of the church, down the front steps, and towards the car. 

“I knew something like this might happen,” he muttered as they hurried to the valet. There was confusion and more chaos as the valets frantically tried to get people their vehicles, the word bomb echoing everywhere around them. “Suit’s already in the trunk.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked. She stopped walking. Several people bumped into her but she didn’t care. Her breath came out of her in short, angry pants. Bruce was several long strides away before he noticed she was no longer beside him. He stopped, sighed, and moved over to her. He pulled her along after him to the car–finally brought back around by a terrified valet–and ignored the way she was digging in her feet. 

Once inside the car, she exploded. “Bruce, he has a fucking bomb around his neck! Did you not see the same thing I did?” 

“The card is addressed to me,” Bruce said as he pressed the car’s accelerator down as far as it would go. He dove in and out of traffic, taking several turns until they were in an alley nearby. She was pretty sure the building was a couple of blocks in front of them now. “If I don’t go in, he might blow the guy up anyways. This way I might be able to stop it.” 

She crossed her arms. “Then wait for me. I’ll go get my suit, too, we can go in together–” 

Bruce whirled on her. “Absolutely not,” he growled. “Your suit isn’t bomb-proof!” 

“Neither is yours!” she shouted. He flinched. “At least if we go in tog–”

“No, I’m not risking it,” he said firmly. There was a look in his eyes she knew all too well. Determination. He wasn’t going to stop, not even for a bomb. “Besides, this guy is crazy. If anyone other than me goes in, he might blow it anyways.” 

She hated that he was right. “Oh, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to risk his life? Are you fucking kidding me?” she said again. Her voice was pitched high with anger and, beneath it all, fear. She was utterly terrified of Bruce going anywhere near that bomb. 

Bruce softened slightly. “I promise I’ll be careful,” he said. He reached out and brushed his thumb across her cheek. She hadn’t realized she was trembling until he touched her. 

“Bruce, I swear to God, if you get blown up–” But her threat was watery with unshed tears. 

“I’ll be careful. We need answers. This is the first time he’s been so public–I need to stop him before he kills anyone else.” His blue eyes blazed with purpose. He knew it was a risk, but he didn’t care. The mission–saving people–was first. Even above his own life. 

Even above her. 

“Bruce, please,” she said, switching tactics. Her voice broke on the words. “I can’t–If something–” 

He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said as he turned away from her. “I have to do this. I love you.” 

He was out of the car before she could say it back, already at the trunk, yanking out the armor. 

She jumped out after him. No way was she letting him go near a bomb without telling him goodbye. She helped clip him into the armor while he wrestled on the cowl. The more of the armor he had on, the more Bruce straightened. It was like the weight of the world settled on his shoulders but as if, at the same time, he grew strong enough to bear it. 

The sun was setting. Soon the city would be bathed in shadows. 

Perfect timing.

She had a feeling the Riddler had done it on purpose. 

“I love you,” she said as the last piece was in place. In the distance she could hear a crowd. Sirens. A helicopter buzzed past overhead, its spotlight switching on as it got close to where the action was. She swallowed hard and trained her gaze at the ground. 

Bruce tilted her chin up with a gloved hand. “I love you,” he said. She murmured it back to him, voice still wavering with her fear and anger. He kissed her, hard, and let go quickly. “I promise I’ll be okay.” 

“Wait!” she said as he stepped away. He stopped. “The lens. Do you have the lens? So I know if–So I know what’s going on.” So I can know immediately if something happens to you. She didn’t say the words out loud. 

“I’ve already got it in.” 

And then he was gone, another shadow in the night.

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[twistnet]

separation [ sam drake ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; the hunt for henry aver’s treasure is starting to prove a little more difficult now that sam seems to have been separated from you // @jackbarakatismybitch

⋯ PROMPT ; [ runaway warning ] you or your lover go missing, and it’s up to the other to find them and bring them home

⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, slight angst [ separation from partner + mentions of killing // guns ], general fluff [ reunions, hugs + kisses ] + mature language

“are we... missing someone?” nathan questions, looking around the clearing for you and finding you no where in sight. you had been right behind them just a few seconds ago, the three of you running from a slew of rafe’s soldiers and had the hope of losing them in the jungle. however, it seemed that not only did they manage to lose rafe’s soldiers, but you as well.

sam internally panics, head whipping around the clearing as he curses aloud, “she was just right here! where could she have gone?!” fingers racking through his hair as he begins back tracking through where they had just come through, hoping that maybe you were just lingering behind -- that you were injured in someway that was preventing you from keeping up with them.

“hey, hey, hey!” nathan yells, grabbing sam’s bicep to prevent him from taking another step towards your last location, “we’ll find her! but we can’t do that if we run back towards the people that are trying to kill us! trust me, i want to find her as badly as you do, but we can’t do that if we’re dead.”

sam takes a deep sight through his noise, knowing his brother’s words hold some truth and that it would better benefit everyone if they kept moving forward. after all, you were one of the smartest people he knew, and always seemed to find your way back to him, no matter how much of a distance was put between the two of you.

“then let’s keep going... but if we don’t see her in an hour, we’re finding her instead of this stupid treasure.” sam grumbles, walking along side his brother as nathan chuckles, “it’s only stupid now because the love of your life isn’t here with you.”

“hey! she makes all this five times better!” sam argues, before dissolving into laughter right along side his brother, and traveling further into the woods in search of you.

you, on the other hand, had only realized you had separated yourself from sam and nathan after turning around to make a joke about the last time you had run for your life through the woods. you had cursed to yourself, before ducking down at the distant chatter of raf’e soldiers coming further into the woods. and with the little energy you had left, you attempted to put as much distance between you and them -- not wanting to witness the outcome of running across them again.

after an hour trailing through the heavily wooded area, nathan had picked up on tracks -- shifting northeast of their current path, and in a singular pattern, meaning the person was alone. with the high chance that it was you, they took off in that same direction, following the boot marks to an open area where they found you snapping a large stick from the nearest tree, to use as a weapon after hearing some footsteps get closer to your position.

“baby! where the hell have you - ah!” sam’s sentence cut off by a scream -- forced out of his mouth after you had turned, lifting a large stick over your head in attempt to hit him, not realizing that the man was sam, “what the hell are you trying to do?!”

“i thought you were one of rafe’s guys! they’ve been chasing me for... i don’t know, the past two hours!” you sigh, tossing the stick off to the side before crossing the wooded opening to embrace sam, “i wasn’t trying to kill you... though, i guess you should count yourself lucky my gun isn’t working.” you smile, feeling sam’s chest rise and fall with each heavy chuckle. arms wrapping around your frame as he presses a soft kiss to your hairline.

“you had me worried for a moment, i thought i lost you for good.” he mutters softly, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye before his hand came up to cup your cheek in an affectionate manner.

“i hate to cut this touching moment short, but we should really get moving.” nathan comments from behind the two of you, looking over the tall brush to see if any of rafe’s men are progressing any further into the wood. and the second sam’s hand slips into yours -- not wanting to take the chance of getting separated from you again, the three of you take off. now back on your original mission: find the treasure before rafe does.

blog navigation ⇢ [ uncharted masterlist ]

[blindingdutchy]

No but tom fucking me while he wears a hoodie is something I have spent a LOT of time thinking about

okay okay, i couldn't see this and NOT write something so...

lazy lover | t.holland

{boyfriend!tom x fem!reader}

word count: 2,022

warnings: smut... as expected

warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), oral (f receiving)

Moments like these were your absolute favorite. Just you and Tom, cuddled up on the sofa with the soft illumination of the television solely lighting the room. It was storming outside--loud, heavy rumbles of thunder shaking the house slightly, and you could just barely make out the startling flashes of lightning over the tops of the closed drapes.

Perfect weather for snuggles and scary movies, but Tom being the softy he is absolutely refused to watch anything of the sort. So, you'd resigned to watching some romantic comedy for the millionth time. If you were honest, you hadn't watched a single moment of it; instead, you had spent the past hour just closing your eyes in bliss as you carded your fingers through your boyfriend's messy curls and smiled each time he giggled at the screen.

He was your favorite movie, by far. You wished you could see his face, but from this angle you could just barely make out the adorable crinkle of his nose each time he grinned. Tom was sprawled out on top of you, his head nestled over the middle of your chest, and his legs were all tangled up with your own as he laid between them.

It was more than a little stifling in the room as you were caught up in the heat of his body radiating through his lavender hoodie and your own, both of your sweatpants clad lower limbs wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. Somehow, in both of your minds, the storm had translated to meaning cold, when in fact that was far from the case. It was cozy, though, and that made up for the slight dampening on your hairline.

"Princess?"

"Hm?" you hummed, that all too familiar flutter in your heart buzzing out through your body at the sound of Tom's sweet voice.

He nuzzled his face further into your chest, nose buried in the space between your breasts as his hot breathe scorched you through the fabric. "Mmmf yew," he mumbled, and you chuckled at the muffled sound of his words. Picking up his head, your breathe hitched at the darkened hue of his eyes beneath heavy lashes as he repeated, "Miss you."

Cozy turned to hot in an instant. In all the time you'd been dating Tom, you'd come to know one thing--miss you was not something he ever said when you'd been apart for too long. No, miss you was only spoken whenever the two of you had been too close for too long, and he was missing a little something more.

Tom's arms wrapped tighter around your middle, his face burying back into the bunched fabric between your breasts as he lazily pressed opened mouthed kisses through the soft cotton. He left a trail of wet patches in his wake, and your fingers froze in his hair as he found your hardened nipple under your shirt and wrapped his lips around it. "Tom." you gasped.

You tugged at his hair gently, coaxing his face away from your now dampened shirt to look at you. His lips were puffy and reddened from the fabric, a few pressure marks stretching across his right cheek, and he looked so... soft. He looked warm and inviting, like a mug of hot cocoa on a cold winter evening or a crackling fire during a snow storm.

Not a word had to be said for him to know what you wanted. He scooted up the sofa and further over your body until his center was pressed into yours, his lips coming down onto your own in a lazy, slow kiss. You sighed into him, parting his lips with your own as you abandoned his hair to slip your hands under his sweatshirt and trace your fingers over his bare skin.

It was languid and sleepy, like a fire that had burned itself down to a hot, glowing ember. Tom's arms were planted on either side of your head, caging you in place as he dragged his kiss from your lips and down to your jaw. He nipped at the sensitive skin behind your ear, swiping his tongue over the flesh until you whined and he sucked hard to leave a mark of his own.

"Tom, please," you whimpered, rocking your hips up into him, "I need you."

He grinned into your neck, leaving another mark for good measure before he sat up onto his knees between your legs. There was something so beautiful about him like that; this soft, sweet man bundled up in cozy layers that heavily contrasted the dark, heady burn of his gaze. His fingers tugged at the waistband of your pants, and you lifted your hips to help him drag them from your legs--panties too, leaving you bare aside from the baggy sweatshirt that had ridden up your stomach.

Eyes glued to the warmth between your legs, Tom licked his lips, "Fuck, I've missed you so much."

You bit your lip hard, shivering as his fingers ghosted over the chilled skin of your now bare thigh. Already knowing exactly what he was thinking of, you pleaded, "Please, I just want you--"

"Hush, darling," he simpered, "I want to have a taste."

Tom climbed off of the sofa, dropping to his knees on the floor beside you as he grasped your hips in his hands. Thumbs soothing over the skin, he pulled until your legs were dangling from the edge and your core was inches from his face. His eyes truly sparkled then, glimmering at you lustfully as he smiled to himself.

He didn't waste any time teasing, and your hands fluttered helplessly around you to try and ground yourself when you felt his lips wrap mercilessly around your clit. Diving in head first, literally, Tom gripped your thighs to keep them spread apart as he licked fat stripes through your folds. Sparks shot through your entire body each time he curled his tongue around your bud, swirling and sucking around the nub tirelessly.

It was a little pathetic how easily he pulled you to the edge, your stomach all twisted up in knots as you trembled all over. What else was to be expected though, when the two of you had been together for so long? Tom knew your body like the back of his hand, an expert in all the little things that made you tick--like the way his eyes flickered up to watch you watch him make you feel good.

The sight of his brown eyes watching you like a hunter watching his prey, dark and greedy, got you every time. Squeezing your thigh, Tom teasingly kissed your clit and pulled away with a cheeky wink at your groan of frustration. The tension in the pit of your stomach ebbed away, the quivering of your legs ceasing as he patted your hip and mumbled, "Slide up, princess."

Cooing at the name you loved to hear him speak, you scooted back up the sofa until your head fell onto the armrest once more. He didn't even take his pants off when he climbed back up between your legs, arms caging in your head once more. His lips tasted of you as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth as you tugged at his pants eagerly.

"Please, Tommy, I miss you."

Tom's breathe hitched at the sound of you speaking his words, and a little desperately he inched his pants down just enough to free his length from them. You moaned at the sensation of his warm skin falling against your thigh, his tip slipping across the slick mess dripping down your legs. Not wanting to wait for him to make the first move, you reached down to wrap your fingers around him.

He hissed at the contact, hips instinctively rutting into the contact as he groaned, "Fuck, princess--"

The words were lost as you dragged his tip through your folds, teasing your clit for a moment before lining him up. His eyes screwed shut as he sank into you, lips parted in a silent oath, and he crumpled down until his chest was pressed to your own. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you clutched the fabric of his sweatshirt in tight fists as you arched off the couch in pleasure.

Giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch, Tom buried his face into your neck with a muffled moan, "Always feel so perfect, princess. So tight f'me every time."

Tom rocked into you slowly, nudging deeper and making you whimper as you clenched around him. You didn't have to say a word for him to get the message--his hips pulling back before pushing forward again deeply. It felt as if you could feel every last bit of him; every line and ridge of his length dragging along your walls perfectly as you moaned.

You were clawing at his back, fingers slipping over the cotton that was somehow far more slippery than bare skin. If you had thought it was hot in the room before, it was nothing compared to the sweltering temperature between the two of you in that moment. Your hoodie was bunching further under your breasts with each of Tom's thrusts, the fabric of his own scratching at your bare skin from multiple angles.

Sure, you'd had sex with clothes on plenty of times. Rushed and risky encounters in pub bathrooms, your dress bunched up around your hips and his trousers pulled down to his thighs, but this? Tom, suddenly so desperate for you, fully dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants on the sofa? This was new, and it was hot.

The movements were lazy and slow, his lips sleepily suckling at your neck as he panted into your skin and moaned in your ear huskily. You were a withering mess, sweating all over and trying to hold onto him in any way you could to keep from drifting away in bliss. Each sloppy thrust into your heat had you calling his name, begging for that release to finally wash over you.

"Tom, 'm close."

He leaned further onto one arm, lifting the opposite shoulder to slip his hand between the two of you. His hips never faltered as he swiped his fingers through the slick mess between your legs, swirling around your clit smoothly. "Cum for me, princess, wanna feel you." he encouraged, dark eyes blearing down at you hazily.

His cheeks were all red, and his curls were sticking to his forehead with sweat. Lips parting, you panted desperately for air as your stomach began to tighten immeasurably. It was almost too much--the look of him, the feel of his cock languidly finding its home deep within you, over and over. His fingers still rubbing slow, deep circles to your sensitive bundle.

With a sharp inhale, you cried out, "T-Tom!"

The knots in your belly exploded, stars bursting in your eyes as you clenched your entire body around him. Thighs squeezing his waist tightly, fingers clawing so harshly into his sweatshirt you finally found purchase in the skin of his back, and your walls clamped down around his length. "Oh, fuck, princess!" he heaved, eyes screwing shut and nose crinkling as he stuttered in his movements.

Tom's lips parted in a guttural cry before he dropped onto you entirely, arm pinned between you as he continued to ride you through your orgasm with his fingers. He pulsed inside of you, and after a few seconds he gave a loud sigh as a warmth spread through you. Your legs were trembling as you dropped them onto the sofa again, smoothing over the fabric of his hoodie as you finally released your grip.

But, when he moved to pull away, you pulled him back and mumbled sleepily, "Can we just stay like this for a bit?"

Smiling with heavy eyelids, Tom nodded and kissed you softly, easing back down again. You groggily brushed the curls from his forehead and grinned back, humming in appreciation when he rested his head on your shoulder again. His lips ghosted over your neck as he murmured, "I love you, darling. S'much."

"I love you, Tom."

[ssplague]

Alpha Bakugou & his late blooming Omega girlfriend 🌬🥀

PART TWO

Honorable mentions: @jazzylove @bakugoismisunderstood @koreylive

Okay since so many of you seemed to really enjoy this “Just thinking about”, I’m turning it into a short story. I’m thinking it will have four parts all together (including the original post). So I know I’d said that I’d give you a nice big dose of Scumbag Suki this update, buuuut that was before I knew this was going to take off like it did 🙈 The next one is entirely his POV so you’ll get your fill then!

Part 3

🌌✨🌠

“Suki, did you really have to be that harsh towards Izuku when we left the playground earlier? I know you dislike him now but….”

You trail off as you get settled on the plush, blanket lined floor of the small tent you and Bakugou had set up in your backyard. Supposedly there was going to be “A shit load of shooting stars tonight!” acording to one of your classmates. You were excited and insisted on staying up to watch, and as usual, Katsuki inserts himself into any and everything you do. Therefore; The two of you had rushed home after school, asked both your mothers and pleaded to spend the night together out in the yard. Deciding that you two were still at the age where anything other than star gazing was unlikely to happen, they allowed it.

Battery operated fairy lights were strung along the roof of the tent and a small lantern illuminated the center, giving the inside a pink and orange glow.

“Hah?! No way was I about to let stupid Deku come and ruin OUR sleep over! This is for me and you ________, no one else….just…us” a light breeze blew in through the open tent flap and treated Katsuki to be briefly overcome by your scent.

The two of you had your scent glands come in around the same time and still weren’t entirely used to it just yet. All both of you knew is that you favored each other’s scents over anyone else’s. It was kind of getting embarrassing how much you were beginning to enjoy your temperamental best friend’s spiced caramel aroma. So much so you had to make a conscious effort not to lean into him and sniff at his neck from time to time. He was subtle about it, but certainly didn’t mind bumping into or brushing up against you more often than ever to get a whiff of your intoxicating fragrance. Even getting hit with a face full just now had his brain feeling sluggish as beads of sweat began forming along his hairline.

A voice inside his head started incessantly growling “touch her, touch her TOUCH HER”. Under the guise of getting comfortable he shifted his leg to rest up against yours and his mind quieted instantly.

“I….I know that Kat…I wouldn’t have invited him anyway!” Your face began to redden as you brazenly blurted out; “I like when it’s just you and I, we always have the most fun”.

He instantly perked up at hearing that, but he couldn’t help but ask; “So you like me better than him? You think I’m BETTER than him?”. Leaning into you as he waited for you to answer his question, eyes narrowed.

“You know I do! Besides….” You couldn’t help yourself as you leaned towards him and inhaled deeply “You smell so much better than him too!”.

Oh hell now you’d done it ________, you unknowingly opened the metaphoric Pandora’s box.

He didn’t speak right away, just smirked back at you and enjoyed the devious expression on your face. After another minute spent invading one another’s personal space you were first to snap out of it quickly muttering; “M’sorry Suki I..I dunno what happened I shouldn’t have got in your face like that!”. You sat back up and moved your leg so it was no longer touching his. Unable to comprehend the sudden feeling of sadness at the loss of contact, or attribute it to the fact that you were no longer touching him. Katsuki frowned immediately and scooted back against you, “S’okay princess…s’not like it’s a big deal”. His use of the familiar nickname only succeeding to fluster you further.

The next few moments were spent in silence.

Surprisingly, It was you that eventually broke it asking; “Suki do you know…d’you know what mates are?”. You immediately began to play with the cheap desk telescope you’d brought out to avoid looking at him, your heart was beating a lot faster now. The startled look on his face would have informed you that your question caught him off gaurd; Surely you hadn’t just had the same thought he did?! Well either that or you could read minds….that wasn’t very likely, thank god.

“Ah well my mom told me it’s when two people decide that they want to always be together and get sad if they are ever apart…so they live together….and then other stuff happens that damn brats don’t need to know just yet” he finished lamely, confused as to why he felt so strange reciting his mother’s words exactly as she’d originally said them.

“I get sad when we have to go inside our houses at night and stop playing together” you said, the depressed tone of voice sounded like it was happening right then. “Me too…I wish we lived together cause then you’d always be with me” he confessed shooting you a nervous glance. Your eyes lit up and you beamed at him when the idea suddenly struck; “We have to become mates now Katsuki, we have to!”. You got up on your knees and began frantically shuffling things around the tiny tent. “If we’re mates then our parents can’t tell us we have to stop playing and separate at night! We’ll always be able to stay together!” Your sporadic movement and sudden outburst immediately infected your companion with the same frantic energy, albeit nervous, but excited all the same as he stared at you with wide eyes.

“You’re right _________! That’s a great idea”

“I know!”

“So uh..umm how uh…how do we do that?”

You stop smoothing the blankets out to stare at Katsuki, “You don’t know how?”.

“No” he admits glumly.

You can’t hold back the distressed whimper that escapes you and Katsuki is immediately at your side trying to console you “Hey princess it’s alright-“. “NO!” you exclaim “We need to do this to stay together forever!”.

Then you remembered something; “I see my mom and dad do this every morning”. You roll up the sleeve of your jacket and bring your wrist up, simulating the motion of rubbing it across the scent gland on your neck. Katsuki nods his head in understanding; “Oh yeah, mine do the same thing! Let’s do that!”. He lays back and stretches his neck out, “You do me first and then I’ll do you kay?”.

“Kay”

You nod and smile down at him, shuffling towards his head and bringing your wrist up to his neck. You hold your breath as your skin makes contact with his and start lightly rubbing over his scent gland a few times.

“S-Shit” he says softly, squirming slightly.

“What?! Did I hurt you??!” You ask.

Fear immediately replacing excitement and distracting you from reprimanding him for uttering a curse word as you usually would.

“N-No it didn’t hurt…please d-do it again”

You do, continuing thoughtlessly as you become enthralled by his peaceful expression and relaxed as he starts purring.

“Your turn”

You take his spot laying down on the fluffy blanket strewn floor, shivering with anticipation and the slight chill in the night air. His touch warms you from the inside out and you gasp at the sudden sensation. Relaxing once more, you look up at him through heavily lidded eyes and return the smile he’s giving you.

Neither one of you has any idea that this situation is going to come with serious consequences.

Eventually you remember the whole reason you two had decided to camp out in the first place; “The shooting stars!” You cry sitting up and narrowly avoiding head butting the blonde boy above you. “Hey!” He snarls. You stand and open the window flap in the tents ceiling, just as you do you see the first “star” shoot across the sky. “Woah! Quick make a wish make a wish kat!”.

He won’t admit it…but he does, and so do you.

As more stars shoot across the sky the two of you lay together; Happily curled up in the blankets, snuggling up together. Occasionally one of you brings your wrist up and begins to rub the others neck lazily, while continuing to watch the dazzling light show taking place above you. Both of you end up falling asleep long before it’s over. The sound of Katsuki’s continuous purring, lulling you into the most comfortable sleep possible.

Well that, and how his natural warmth just seemed to consume you….

Warmth…so warm at times it could get uncomfortable.

Like right now…too close…too hot

Your eyes snap open and you take in your surroundings; This is your dorm room, you’re at school right now, safe. Your clothes and sheets are soaked through with sweat. Not just sweat apparently; After waking up more you realize your lower body feels disgustingly sticky. Then a tingling sensation begins at the tip of your toes, rapidly spreading up your legs until it reaches the special place between them. Then it’s like a literal fucking furnace has exploded down there! Not to mention the heavyweight that has now come to rest in your lower stomach as it begins to cramp.

“Ow! ow! Ow!”

You try to feel around the bed for your phone, you could call one of your friends to come help you.Friends….that’s right they all left for the weekend! Wait not all of them left, Katsuki! He’s still here! That’s right, you were supposed to go over to his room, last night? Is it already morning? Fuck who knows.

You start to cry when you can’t feel your phone nearby on the bed, you don’t wanna look for it.

You don’t wanna be alone either though….Your scared. His room is just down the hall it’s not too far away, maybe if you just take it slow you’ll make it. You force yourself to get up, not even caring that all you have on is a tiny pair of sleep shorts and a sports bra.

You bend down to grab your slides out from beneath the bed and slip them on your feet before moving forward.

One foot in front of the other.

Your hunched over, one arm wrapped around your stomach and sweat freely dribbling down your face, coating your chest, sliding down the valley between your breasts.

Jesus, I must look like fucking shit right now.

As you make it into the hallway and start your journey all you can think about is how badly you want to see Katsuki. He always makes everything better somehow; That smile he wears just for you makes your heart sing normally. Right now you just let out a pained keen at the thought. Your inner omega has always been quiet enough to ignore in the past, but now she’s practically screeching like a fucking banshee inside of your head.

Just one word, over & over & over again:

Alpha

Alpha!

ALPHAAA!!!

With each screech your primal urges and instincts had began overwhelming you. Eventually reaching a point where the lines between the two began to blur. Making you feel more like a wounded beast that’s gone absolutely feral, while slowly dragging yourself down the hallway.

Once you get about halfway down you start to smell the familiar scent that you’ve become so fond of. Only it’s so much stronger and….muskier? It’s intoxicating, and so potent, you need more! Somehow your legs are moving quicker thanks to this new desperation manIfesting. Once you finally reach his door you have to stop yourself from breaking it down; Frantically pounding on it instead, and now you’ve started crying, salivating, and you’re just a goddamn walking train wreck… Somehow you don’t care, your appearance doesn’t matter, you just need HIM right now.

When the door opens you stumble inside.

The sound of his voice quieting your shrieking omega as soon as it reaches your ears;

“Finally decided to show up? Was waiting all fuckin’ night for you and…hey what’s wrong? Oh shit…fuck”.

Fuck is very right.

[blu-joons]

Our Little Girl ~ Jeon Jungkook

Pairing: Expecting Dad!Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Slightly descriptive pregnancy, labour and birth

Word Count: 5.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me, I’ll have you- “

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“R-really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just one more,” Jisoo then called out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll never tire of hearing that.”

---

Masterlist

[ramp-it-up]

Anything and Everything

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF  Read at your own risk.

SMUT, Angst, long distance relationship issues, doting husband, massages, employer/employee relationship, the notion of cheating, talk of happy endings, cursing, graphic sex, a sweet surprise, and Princess behavior. 😉———————

As soon as you ended the sexy Facetime call with your husband, you burst into tears. It was common lately, with him being gone for over a month and under the circumstances, but he never knew.

Until he decided to call you right back because he missed you so much.

You tried to keep it together when you answered the call, but he knew you better than that.

“Hey, Princess. Are you crying?”

He sounded so earnest that you couldn’t hide it any more. You were snuffling and unable to control the sobs shaking your body. 

It tore him apart not being able to be there to comfort and hold you. Although he had some idea, he asked anyway.

“What’s wrong babe?”

You let out all of your words.

“I, I, I  just miss you so much. It’s so hard with you gone and not being here to talk to and hold me and run out to get me food and, and I don’t want electronic sex or a vibrator or my fingers or a dildo. I want your mouth and your hands and your dick.”

You took a second to breathe. “And I know I have that silicone replica of you but it's cold and not warm and alive and I just want you and your warm arms and your huge chest and your beating heart and a forehead kiss...”

You cried harder thinking of how much of a cry-baby you sounded.  You didn’t normally do this, but the separation was getting to be too much.

You sobbed while he tried to calm you down. He would give you the world to make you happy. Once you were able to listen, he spoke in soothing tones. 

“Listen Princess, I’m going to arrange something to make you feel better. I know you’ve been missing me…”

You were smiling by the time you got off the phone, your man always able to make you feel better.

Two days later, a huge box with the massage table arrived at the house. Workers came to set up one of the spare rooms for a spa/wellness room, and you were not allowed to see it until the appointed day.  

You did clock them bringing in the massage table, a counter/workspace/storage, a ton of essential oils and supplies, and an upscale extra wide sofa with lots of pillows. 

You were excited and distracted from your lonliness, and you couldn’t wait to see it.  

You talked about your in-home massage appointment excitedly every time you spoke with your husband.  He beamed to know that he was able to bring the spark of happiness back to your voice.

“This is going to be good for you, try this massage therapist out, we might keep them on staff indefinitely.”

You lit up again.  “You mean, I can have my own live-in massage therapist?” You smirked.  “What did I do to deserve this?”

Your husband grinned back at you through the camera and proceeded to tell you everything that made you Queen in his eyes.

-------

Almost a week later, you entered the dimly lit room, ensconced in your fluffy terry cloth robe. There was soft music playing.

The soft green tones of the paint and the bamboo floor looked amazing.  You took off your slippers and realized that the floor was heated.  You grinned wide. 

The massage table was set up and waiting as you took in the room and noticed all the details. There was a soft knock at the door and you spoke.

“Come in.”  You didn’t know why, but you were full of anticipation. 

The massage therapist came in and your eyes locked for a second. There was a sudden electricity in the room, but then he averted his eyes and stood beside the table, eyes forward, back straight, almost at attention.

You gave him the once over, he was tall, broad shouldered, very well built, and extremely handsome. 

His dark hair and beard were well manicured and his large hands clasped behind him. That allowed you to see his lean form, his flat stomach and the large hump in his pants. 

You raised your eyebrow. This man was packing. You smirked. You couldn’t see his eyes, as they were downcast, so you went and stood in front of him.  

You realized that his blue scrubs matched his eyes and you smiled as he gazed down at you.

His perfect pink lips parted and you gazed at them a moment too long. There was a hint of a smile, and then it vanished. You stepped back.

You took him in from his broad, muscular shoulders, to his wide chest and his slim waist and hips.

He shifted and brought his hands to rest in front of him, and you walked around him and got a glimpse of his ass. There were no flaws.

“What is your name?”

“Robert, ma’am.”  

His curt reply came with just a glance at you, and you proceeded toward the counter, setting down your iced lemon water.

Your husband knew what you liked. And he delivered. Today would be just what you needed to relax.  

You started to untie your robe, still facing the counter, and when you started shrugging out of your robe, Robert cleared his throat.  You stopped and looked at him over your exposed shoulder.

His eyes were on you, but he raised his hand toward the table. 

“I will step out for a moment to allow you to disrobe and get situated. Start off face down. Please cover yourself with the sheet and I’ll be back in.’

You nodded your head at him.  And smiled. He was quite handsome.

He closed the door and you fully stepped out of your robe, hanging it on the hook on the back of the door, then you situated yourself on the table, placing the sheet over you, covering your back and leaving your arms out. You put your face into the headrest and relaxed.  

Robert came back in, and you heard him going to the counter, opening doors and moving things around.

“Is the table a suitable temperature, ma’am?”

The heated table had been a nice surprise when you lay down. Another plus for hubby.

“Yes, it’s heavenly, thank you Robert.” You smiled and snuggled into the cushioned table.

He moved back to the counter, and then came and placed his hands under the headrest so that you could inhale the scent of a spicy oil on his hands.

“Peppermint oil, ma’am. Your husband wants you to be sure that you can breathe well.” 

You smirked into the cushion.

“Does he now?”

“Yes ma’am. Those were his instructions.”

You detected no humor, no sarcasm in his voice, just a matter-of-fact tone.  You inhaled deeply, staring at his thick fingers through the headrest, wiggling at the thrill you got between your legs. 

You knew very well why your husband wanted your nasal passages to be clear. You couldn’t wait for him to control your breathing with his hand or his cock again.

He moved away again and then came back, placing his hands on your shoulders and pressed a little, as if getting you used to his touch.

His hands were warm, and strong, but gentle. His fingers trailed softly, but firmly up your neck, stopping just below your hairline to your hair, which was piled on top of your hair in a very messy bun.

“Can I touch your hair, ma’am? Scalp massage.”

You nodded, smiling at him asking permission. “Yes, that’s fine.”

He threaded his fingers into your dense curls and into your scalp and started massaging, drawing a long shuddering breath from you. Your bun was coming loose, but you didn’t care.  It was so fucking relaxing.

The peppermint oil on his fingers made your scalp tingle and your back arch just a tiny bit.  If Robert noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Your hair is beautiful, ma’am.”  His voice made you shudder and your nipples peaked.  

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely audible.  

Robert removed your hair tie, and smoothed your hair forward above you.

You thought of how often your husband insisted on your hair being loose during love making, and you obliged.

He loved to grab it, especially when he hit it from the back. You loved when he did that. And you loved him. You’d missed his touch.

“Do you mind if I sit, ma’am?”

“Oh no, I’m sure standing on your feet all day must be exhausting.”

Robert didn’t reply, he just grabbed the rolling stool nearby and sat at your head, rolling his legs under the headrest.  You could see the muscular thighs in his scrubs when you opened your eyes halfway.

Upon opening them further, you could clearly make out Robert’s dick print.  He was well endowed, and the tip of his member was deliciously thick. He wasn’t wearing underwear.

Now this was a development. You licked your lips and a drop of your saliva landed on his pants, right next to his dick print.  He stopped massaging your scalp for a second.

“Ummmm, sorry.  Lying face down is kind of awkward.”  You giggled as he cleared his throat.

You sighed as Robert finished up the scalp massage and went to get some more oil.

“Sweet almond oil, ma’am. Your favorite?”

You couldn’t stop smiling.  Your husband had thought of everything.

“Yes.”

He began to work on your shoulders while still standing at your head, and he bent over you as his hands traveled down your back. HIs fingers grazed the sides of your breasts, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

He moved nearer you, as he stretched his arms to reach the top of your sheet covered ass, long fingers almost cupping it, making you squirm a little. 

“Sorry ma’am.  Are you uncomfortable?’

He straightened up and there was something in his tone that you heard, but that you didn’t care to decipher at the moment.

“No, no. I’m good.” 

And you hummed softly in your throat, wiggling your ass a little. That was always the signal for your husband to slap it. And if he were here, he would have. You’d missed that for the past 5 weeks he’d been away working.

Robert ran his hands slowly down your back again and this time grabbed lightly with his fingers as they retreated, gently pulling your ass cheeks apart.

The sound of your slick was evident, and a little embarrassing.  This man had made you wet.

He did it again, and if you didn’t know any better, it was to hear that sound again. You were trying to compose yourself when something hard nudged you in the head.

It couldn’t be. You lifted your head a little bit and came face to face with Robert’s blue scrub covered hard on. You smirked at it and licked your lips.

“It’s okay ma’am. Just relax.”

“Are you uncomfortable, Robert?”  

You echoed his question from earlier. You twisted your neck and looked up at him. Damn, he looked good gazing down at you.

“I’m good, ma’am. Let’s continue. Your husband is insistent that we finish.”

“Hmmmmmm.” You pursed your lips and put your head back in the headrest as he moved around to the side of you.

He massaged your shoulders and pressed down either side of your spine to your hips, stopping there and adjusting the sheet over your ass. He shook it out, lifting it high enough that he might have gotten a glimpse if he had been paying attention.  

But he was a professional, right?

He continued smoothing his hands down your legs, stopping at your feet and squeezing. 

“What kind of pressure, ma’am?”  He was awaiting further instruction.

“I like it hard and deep.” 

There was a noticeable pause, and Robert cleared his throat. You smiled down at the floor. 

“Deep tissue massages are everything.  Can you accommodate that Robert?”

He quickly replied. “Of course, ma’am.”  He situated the sheet so that your right foot was out. “Your husband told me to give you anything and everything you wanted.”

“Oh?”

He started massaging your foot, hitting all the pressure points with just the right way.

“Ohhhhhhhh! That feels good.”

He just hummed a response.  You relaxed even more, reveling in the human touch on your body that you had missed for so long.  He worked on both feet and calves, and you were almost putty on the table.

His hands moved up to your thighs, kneading and squeezing your muscles firmly.  He inched his way up your thighs to your ass, his fingers moving near your cunt.  He got oh so close to your lips, but never crossed the line. You were beginning to feel some kind of way.

“Do you talk, Robert?”

“If you need me too, ma’am. What do you want to talk about?”

“Do your clients ever…. ask you to do things…” 

“You mean, switch pressures? Use hot stones?….” 

If you knew him better, you would say he was intentionally misunderstanding.

You cleared your throat. ”I mean, do you ever give… happy endings?”

Another pause. “Ah.”  He continued up and down your legs with long, firm strokes.

“I’ve never had a client I would risk it all for.”  He never stopped moving his fingers up and down your legs, fingers almost giving you pleasure. “Until…”

“Until…?”

He cleared his throat again. “What did you want to talk about ma’am?”

He was intentionally evading.  You put the pieces together and you came to a conclusion.

You raised your hips a little and arched your back. Your ass was in position for him to easily go further if he wanted, and you knew he could see the outline of it under the sheet. Your man said it was the most gorgeous ass he’d ever seen.

Robert coughed to cover a moan. At least that’s what you imagined. 

“I need you to go further, Robert. Take off the sheet please.”

“Ma’am?”  He didn’t sound confused.  He was asking for confirmation.

“I need a deep tissue internal massage, Robert.”

The prospect of having this gorgeous man do things to you was making you soaked. 

“I’m already lubricated, you won’t need any more oil. I’m soaked actually.”

This time he didn’t cover his moan, he just pulled the sheet off and let it slide to the floor.

“Y-you’re beautiful Ma’am.  But what would your husband say?”

You turned your head around to witness Robert staring at your exposed cunt, his hands inches away from feeling all your glory.  He was licking his lips.  Then, his blue eyes met your brown ones. You arched your back some more and his eyes were drawn back to your most private places.

“Didn’t he tell you to give me anything and everything I wanted?”  

He moved his fingers a millimeter, and then looked back into your eyes. 

“Do your job, Robert.” 

You tried to keep the bitchiness out of your voice, but it was hard.  You wondered if he was still hard.

Robert looked back at it and moved his hands up, one thumb gently grazing the slick on the lips down there, pushing the viscous liquid around your fat pussy.  

He teased you, looking between what his thumb was doing and your face, as your eyes were halfway closed and your mouth was open, panting for your life.  He pushed in a little deeper inside you, not entering you fully, but just enough so your lips swallowed his thumb.  

He rubbed around the entrance to your cunt while holding your hips back with his other hand on your ass cheek.  You were trying to throw it back on his hand. It had been so fucking long since someone else had touched you.

He pulled his thumb out suddenly and tasted it, putting it in his mouth and sucking like a baby.  HIs eyes closed for a second, shook his head and then his eyes blazed at you.

“You taste so good ma’am.” 

He moved his hands back up to your apex and you expected him to put his fingers inside you again, but you yelped when he pulled you back and your ass met his face.

“Robert! Oh my! Oh shit. Yes!”

Robert was going to town. He licked his thick, wide tongue up your folds from your clit to your ass and back down again, swirling at each end.

“Fuck!” 

Robert had you impaled on his face while his strong hands gripped your thighs. He hummed, causing an electric shock to jolt up your spine.  You cried out again.

Then he started slurping your juices, and sucking your clit, stretching it out from between your lips with his own.  He slurped it between his lips and the sound was obscene enough to make you get there quickly.

He started humming again when you started to quiver, and he worked his head back and forth, taking your clit with him. He worked it up and down, back and forth until the coil of pressure in your belly contracted and snapped, delivering your juices to this man’s face.

Your orgasm was hard and relatively fast.  He smiled, watching you spasm when he pulled back. 

“Look at that delicious cream.  Your husband is a lucky man, Ma’am.”

He held you open so he could watch your arousal and cum drip down your folds. You watched it drip down his beard. You twitched at the sight. 

He shook his head again, grabbing a towel from the counter, wiping his face and washing his hands in the sink. You thought you saw a smile.

You were unable to speak for a minute.  He came around to your side and gazed down at you, smile gone, placing his hand on your shoulder and looking deep into your eyes.

“Are you ok, ma’am?”  You nodded yes, and then he made a turning motion with his hand.  “Turn onto your back.”

You obeyed, not thinking too hard about what was happening. You were beneath him, exposed. Watching him. You noticed that he was indeed still hard, and even bigger than you’d peeped earlier. You reached for him and he moved away.

“I’m here to serve you, ma’am.”

You put your hand back down to your side and moved your head to watch him go get the bottle of almond oil and come back to your side.

He raised the bottle above your breastbone and began to pour a thin drizzle down your body, ending with him dripping it slowly and methodically on your clit.  You were still sensitive, and the stimulation made you throb anew.

He finally stopped and used both hands to smooth the oil into your skin, his left hand stroking it into your chest and spreading it to your breasts, grabbing your fullness and pulling your nipples through his fingers firmly, but gently, making you wet all over again.  Your breasts were very sensitive.

“You are so, so beautiful ma’am. “ 

He leaned down and used his tongue on your nipples, swirling and lightly biting. When he started suckling, your pussy clenched, and as if sensing that, he then used his middle finger flat on your stomach and smoothed the oil downward toward your pussy, parting your still throbbing lips again.

He played with you lengthwise, the sloshing sound of your wetness simultaneously embarrassing and erotic. You were at the brink immediately, especially when he pushed his finger inside you and curled it.

“Ohhhh.  Feels so fucking good Robert.”

At that, he inserted another finger, and then another, until your cunt was stuffed full of his thick fingers and you were stretching out nicely around them. You were not disguising your moans or your desire for him. 

You didn’t know exactly what you wanted, but you wanted what he was giving. He worked you toward your next orgasm swiftly, squeezing and flicking your slippery tits, looking up and down your body appreciatively.

You turned your head toward his crotch, which was situated near your head. You looked up at him. He met your gaze. He knew what you wanted. You now held him captive to your wants.

“Anything and everything Robert. Stuff your cock in my mouth while I cum.”

His reserve snapped at your comment and he couldn’t help but groan. He kept fingering your cunt while he quickly undid his scrub pants with his other hand and pulled them down so his cock could spring free. You managed to catch it before it slapped his stomach and you tugged him toward you, your mouth wide open.

You quickly licked your lips as he pushed it toward you, and you gladly accepted the wide organ, his girth almost causing you to split your lip around him.  His movements at your clit turned into circles as he pushed deeper into your throat.

“Now, just relax ma’am. I know it’s a lot.” 

He smirked down at you as you relaxed your throat and tried to breathe around him.  That peppermint oil really helped open your nasal passages, but you still spluttered as he filled your throat, and saliva and tears wet your face. You knew your throat would be sore later.

He pulled out and you choked and gasped for air for a bit before he tapped his dick on your mouth and you opened up again.

Your face was a mess but still beautiful. He didn’t push as deep this time, allowing you the space to swirl your tongue around his fat tip and down the vein underside of his cock.

The circles he was drawing on your clit were more insistent now, and you came yet again, moaning around his cock, sending vibrations up his back this time. He threw his head back and moaned, all the while managing to keep you from running from this orgasm with his hand.  

“Fuck!  Ma’am. You’re very good at that. Too good.”

He pulsed a little into your mouth before he pulled out, making your mouth pop off of his thick head loudly. You whined because you wanted him to come down your throat.

“You wanted everything, ma’am?”  

You caught his meaning as he moved around toward the foot of the table. He took his pants all the way off and stripped off his shirt. Your eyes took in his tattooed torso as he stroked his cock, knowing full well that you were watching him. Damn, he was so beautiful.

Then, he stood at the end of the table, rubbing up your legs to the apex of your thighs, which he pulled down so that your ass was almost hanging down off the table. He took himself in hand again and swiped his cock up and down your cunt, teasing as you whined for him.

“Each and every part of you is so beautiful ma’am.”

He stopped at your hole and pushed just the tip in and then pulled it back out, making you mad.  

“Nnnnnnhhh.”  You keened.  

“I want to wreck this beautiful pussy, ma’am. Want to feel you squeeze my dick until I paint your walls white with my seed. It will look so beautiful. We look so good together, see.”

You leaned up on your elbows so that you could observe. 

“Take it, it’s yours…”

You were open-mouthed panting, and although you didn’t think you could get any wetter, you were.

“But what would your husband say?”  He was smirking at you now.

“Anything. Everything.”

He pushed back into you, a little more this time, and you thought he would bottom out, so you threw your head back in ecstasy, but he pulled back again, causing you to snap your head up and glare at him.

“Please, it’s been so long for me.”  

Robert was panting now.  “Me too.”

Your eyes found his as he pushed inside you, this time moving slowly toward his goal.  

“You promise?” 

He felt so good stretching you out.  No fingers, no dildo, nothing could compare to him.

His hips stuttered as he stuffed you full.

“I’ve only had my hand for over a month. Nothing, no one comes close to this.”  He opened his mouth and outright panted, jaw slacked and eyes glazed.

He looked down at where you were joined together. 

“It really is magnificent.” He gasped at the sensations of you. Liquid satin. “Fuck, you aways feel so fucking good wrapped around me.”

He pushed both thighs up to your face and he started fucking you hard. You pussy was pulling him in deeper.

“I was planning on flipping you over, fuck… and… and hitting it from behind...shit!”

You started palming your own breasts and pulling your nipples while moaning wantonly. It was the best erotic movie he’d ever seen.

“Gat damnit…”

He puffed, watching what you were doing. His hips were getting off-rhythm and he shook his head to clear it. 

“But I just had to bend you in half and fuck the shit out of you.” He groaned, completely lost in the sauce. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

He reached up, licked his thumb and moved it to your clit, hitting impossibly deeper with each thrust.

“Cum for me one more time Princess.”

It had been so long since you heard that command in person.  You let go with abandon.

“Fuck! Yes Mr.Evans!”  You came again, gushing all over him. 

“Yes, baby, yessssss.”

Chris looked down and licked his lips.  “I’ve been wanting to feel this for forever.” He pulsed and came and mingled his liquid with yours.

He released your thighs and massaged them as he stared down at you, smiling as you came back to earth.

You looked at him. “Hi.”

“Hi.”  He winked and leaned over to give you a good kiss.  

“Welcome home, Baby.” You beamed up into his eyes.

“What a welcome….”

He grunted as he pulled out of you and you watched as he grabbed a towel and turned on the hot water, soaking some in the basin while taking one and cleaning himself up.  

Then, he grabbed his scrub pants, put them back on and brought a warm towel to clean you up gingerly. There was only love in his eyes as he completed the most intimate of acts. 

When he was done, he picked you up bridal style and moved you over to the sofa, arranging the pillows to cradle you as he crawled between your legs again. He sighed deeply, finally home.

You held him as he laid his head on your breasts, playing with his hair.  

“I missed you so much.”  You were so happy that your husband was finally home. 

“Mmmmm. You know I missed you too.”  He looked up at you, blue eyes large.  “Are you ok?  I didn’t hurt you did I?” 

He looked down at your body, and placed his large hand on your abdomen, beaming down at it. 

“How are you? How’s the little one? You look gorgeous. I can tell your body is changing already.” 

It was the same thing he asked every day over the phone, but in person, it hit different. The felt a lump in your throat.

“We’re great.  I can’t feel the baby yet, so I’m glad you’re home before I do.”

You were so afraid Chris was going to miss the major milestones of your pregnancy, but so far he’d only missed some faint morning sickness and you sleeping all the time.

You were nine weeks pregnant. You and Chris found out that you were four weeks along right before he left to film in Romania.  That set you off on an over-emotional rollercoaster that he tried to staunch from 5,000 miles away.

“You’re gonna have to pry me off of you until after the baby comes, and probably every day after that.” Chris looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And you were. “Wherever you go, I go, and vice versa.”

You started to cry, because you loved this man so much. Or maybe it was because of hormones.  Chris lovingly kissed your tears away.

“I love my present, this room, the decor, the oils.  And especially my massage therapist. I might have to bring Robert on staff permanently at the Evans household. He’s fine as hell…” 

Your tears had turned to a sultry look. He chuckled at your mood swing.

“I almost broke character so many times, from the first time I looked in your eyes, to when I saw your ass under that sheet, and when I finally touched you.”  

Chris took a deep breath and kissed your collarbone, then laughed. 

“I can’t believe you drooled on my pants. That was a great test of my acting skills.”

You laughed with him.  “Well, you got skills, baby. You’re a great actor. It was a great experience. Say, did you ever do adult film?”  

Chris raised his eyebrows at you.  “The only ‘adult films’ that I’ve ever done are in a google drive that only you have the password to...”

“Don’t forget IG, when…” Chris started tickling you to get you to shut up.

After a few minutes of laughing and talking and getting reacquainted, your eyes started getting heavy. The excitement of your reunion, combined with great sex, and first trimester pregnancy, was about to do you in.

Chris picked you up and carried you down the hall to your master suite.  You loved that he was so much bigger than you. 

You snuggled his neck and started playfully biting him. His little moans and the slight swelling of his dick against your thigh as he carried you told you he wasn’t playing.

“Don’t start anything you can’t finish right now, Mrs. Evans. I can tell you’re tired.”  He lay you on the bed and you got under the covers, warm and happy. 

“What do you want right now? Food? Sleep?.....Anything else?”

He stood at the side of the bed, blue scrubs slung low on his hips, hair messed up. His blue eyes were blazing, his abs on point and the trail of soft dark hair on his stomach was pointing to happiness. 

You watched him as he subtly flexed for you. You realized that you were getting moist again. And judging from his smile, Chris realized it as well. 

You bit your lip and looked him up and down.

“I want all of that.” 

You pointed to him, circling your finger around his form.

“Everything.”

You giggled as Chris moved to give you whatever you wanted.

————————-

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[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Welcome Home - Bakugou Katsuki

Katsuki’s back from a mission, hardly through the door and already acting strange. it’d be a lot easier to figure out if he wasn’t so- well, himself.

—/—

Bakugou likes to pretend. Pretend that he’s tough, that he’s mean, that he’s prickly all the way through. And he might be, to others, but you’re not exactly others to him.

He loves you, and for Katsuki, love has always been something that weakens him. He needs it, you think, because he’s plenty strong already. So maybe it’s a good thing he goes so molten soft for you.

You think he’s softest now- when he’s just come back from a mission away, freshly showered and ready for sleep. He’ll creep up behind you, catching your around your middle. Searching fingers find the dip of your waist, settling there as he pulls you back against his chest. Katsuki doesn’t even really greet you, but that’s okay- he’ll place a feather-light kiss under your jaw and it’s always more than enough.

“Food’s almost ready.” You say lightly, leaning back against him. “Should be just a few more minutes, yeah?”

“No.”

“No- what? Aren’t you hungry?”

“No. Tired.”

“Okay.” You nod, turning in his arms. You’ve got your hands against his chest, and Bakugou pulls you forward even more, away from the hot stove behind you. “You should probably eat before you sleep though. Get your strength back, you know?”

“No. Ate earlier, ‘m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” He grumbles, very obviously annoyed. “I’m fuckin’ sure.”

You recoil a bit at his tone- but Katsuki doesn’t let you get very far. He keeps you trapped against his chest, one hand leaving your waist to turn the oven off. Whatever’s up with him clearly has him upset- you can see it in the crease of his eyebrow, the way his nostrils flare like a bull.

His moods are always unpredictable, but this behavior is even more so. Usually he’s pretty tame when he gets back home from a mission, he never really snaps. Not like he is now.

You try to give him some space, but he seems bothered by that too. Bakugou turns you back around, crowding you against the cooling stove. He’s all heavy weight and heat, solid against your shoulders and refusing to move. He drops his forehead into your skin, nuzzling at the junction where your shoulder meets your neck.

“Are you alright?” You ask hesitantly, raising a hand up to card through his hair. Bakugou melts into you at that, and it only worries you more. “Everything go okay?”

“Mhm.”

He’s noncommittal, voice hardly more than a grumble. You feel his eyes flutter against your skin, and he pulls you even further into him. Your practically draped in this hulking, mass of a man, breathing in the very air that leaves his mouth.

“Really that tired, huh?” You try again, scratching idly at his scalp. “I’ll finish the food, and wrap it up. Don’t worry about it, you can just go to bed.”

“No. Leave it.”

“I’m not just gonna leave it. It’ll get all gross sitting out overnight.”

“Jesus fuck,” He huffs once more, and you don’t have to see it to know he’s rolling his eyes. “I said fuckin’ leave it. So fuckin’ leave it!”

Your eyes widen- because you know he did not just speak to you that way.

Bakugou must regret it too, because then he’s hugging you tighter, ghosting his hands up and down your sides. “Didn’t mean it.” He says. “I’m just tired. Shouldn’t have snapped. Leave the food, I’ll clean it up later.”

You’re still a little annoyed, but you’re long past picking fights over his tone. He was just surly- and you still loved him in spite of it.

“Yeah- okay. It’s fine.” You agree. “You wanna take a nap then?”

He nods against your skin, but doesn’t really move. If anything he gathers you closer, hanging his head over your shoulder.

“Don’t sleep here.” You giggle, dropping a kiss to his hairline. “C’mon- I’ve gotta go clean up a bit first, and then we’ll go get in bed.”

“‘m already clean.”

“I didn’t say you. I said me. I’ve gotta get clean.”

He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, dragging his nose against the soft skin. “Smell fine to me.” He says.

“I didn’t- did you just sniff me?”

He just shrugs, and you can feel it against your back.

“Jesus, what’d they do to you, huh? Tired you out so much that you became a different person?” You laugh, turning in his arms. Bakugou lets you, settling his hands on the small of your back. “You’re never this soft.”

He seizes, squeezing your sides. “Shut up.”

“I legally can’t.”

“You can, and you fuckin’ should.”

“Hey- play nice or you’re going to bed by yourself.”

Bakugou doesn’t seem all too pleased by your joke, his strong arms tightening around you. When you look up at him, he’s glowering, jaw set and eyes squinted.

“Calm down, grumpy.” You smile fondly, patting his chest. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Well- not right now, anyways. I missed you too much.”

You hardly see his face go red before he’s hunching over, hiding in your neck. You can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but you don’t comment. Bakugou already knows he’s done for just as much as you do.

“Wanted to come home.” He says. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Shoulda picked a different job then. Hero.”

He scoffs. “World would go to shit without me.”

“Yeah- it would, wouldn’t it?”

You feel his smile against your neck. Another second passes and then you’re gently pushing him off, brushing past to start towards the bedroom. Katsuki follows you, like a shadow, the entire way- hardly even a breath of space between you. Even when you start into the bathroom, grabbing at your face wash, he’s there too. He leans against the counter, holding a towel.

“So helpful.” You tease, turning on the sink. “Maybe you should go away more often.”

“‘m always helpful.”

“Mhm. Sure you are.”

You start your routine, working through the steps, and he just watches. Usually he’s in bed at this point, but for whatever reason, tonight Katsuki is choosing to stay instead. He stays and he stands- rooted in place just a few inches away, red eyes watching you intently through the mirror. Whatever had him so bent out of shape earlier apparently still has him arrested. If you didn’t know any better you’d even say that he was being clingy.

You motion for the towel, and Bakugou just does this funny little half-smirk. He pushes off the counter, nearing, standing just behind you and- he drops the towel. Over your head.

“Jerk.” You fuss, swiping the towel away. “I knew you were suspicious! Standing there- being suspiciously calm!”

He smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Calm down, you baby. ‘s a towel. Not like I dropped a fuckin’ building on your head.”

“No, but you would.”

Bakugou shrugs.

“No! No! Get out. Get out of my bathroom right now.” You playfully scold, glaring at him through the mirror. He’s standing behind you now, just inches away. “And to think I told you I missed you. I take it back. I totally take it back.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do!”

“You don’t.” He says confidently, arms wrapping around your waist. “Already said it, dumbass. Can’t take that shit back now.”

“You are an ass, you know that?”

“Mhm.”

“No- you’re not supposed to agree!” You laugh, lightly elbowing him away. “Now, c’mon, let me go. Gotta brush my teeth still.”

“So brush them. Dunno why the hell you’re makin’ it my fuckin’ problem.”

“I’m making it your problem because you’re the one hanging off me like an overgrown toddler.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, stepping back for a moment. He reaches for your toothpaste and toothbrush, one hand leaving your hip while the other stays.

“Here.” He says. “Everthing you need. Stop fuckin’ complaining and brush your damn teeth already.”

You catch his gaze in the mirror, but Bakugou really doesn’t seem to be relenting. He stands his ground, hardly an inch of space between his chest and your back. He looked ridiculous- you wondered just what the hell was wrong with him that night.

“Fine- have it your way.” You relent, turning on the sink once more. “But only because it’s been two weeks since you were last here to pull this shit. Not happening again, got it?”

He just smirks. Bakugou know’s he’s won. He always does.

You brush your teeth, and he hardly moves. He stands with his arms wrapped around you, holds your hair back when you lean down to rinse around your mouth. It’s almost nice- until he’s flicking water at you.

“Are you- are you being serious right now?” You glare at him. “I thought you were tired.”

“Yeah. I am.“ He starts, a slow smirk spreading across his face. It’s a look you knows means trouble of the exceedingly childish variety. “Tired of your shit.” 

“Bakugou Katsuki! What the hell has gotten into you?” 

He rolls his eyes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He tightens his arms around your waist, averting his eyes. “Haven’t been around.” Bakugou says. “Had to save all this energy up. Couldn’t resist- ‘s not my fault.” 

“Is that- are you trying to tell me that you missed me?” 

“Is that what I fuckin’ said?”

“Well, no, not in those exact words. But don’t worry, I get what you mean. And it’s a little cute.” Then you spin in his arms, leaning back against the counter. You bring a hand up, flicking his forehead before he can dodge. “But try that water shit with me again, and I promise you’ll leave this bathroom drenched.” 

“You makin’ threats now? Hah?”

 “Absolutely. Think I got a little bolder while you were gone. Shouldn’t have left me alone for so long!”

Your joke doesn’t seem to land- at least not the way you want it to. His eyes squint, just a bit, just minutely, but you see it. Then he’s shaking his head, dropping his hands to the counter to cage you in against him.

“Didn’t- I wouldn’t-” He starts, before swearing under his breath. Bakugou takes a deep breath. “I don’t like bein’ gone all the time. Wouldn’t if I didn’t fuckin’ have to. If there was another way I’d-”

“I know. I know you would.” You place a hand on his chest, and he just looks thankful that you’ve been merciful. That you don’t make him say the words. “I was just joking. I’d never hold that against you, you know. It doesn’t matter to me that you have to go, just that you always come back to me.”

He just breathes deep, trying his best to meet your eyes. Bakugou never really was good at eye contact, always trying his best to hide from what he feels. You try your best not to let him though- you don’t want to leave him with any doubt about where he stood with you. Where he’d always stand with you, if you had anything to say about it.

Katsuki pats your head then, ruffling your hair while he bites his knuckle. He’s embarrassed, awfully so, but he’s trying his best yet again. “Don’t- you can’t just say shit like that.” He grumbles, but then he’s turning around, pulling you gently by the arm towards the bedroom. “I’ll always come back. You really think I’d let any of those idiot villains kill me?” 

“Nope. Not a chance. You’d strike ‘em dead.”

“That’s my girl.” He smirks. “Course I would.” 

He waits patiently while you change into comfier shorts, throwing one of his own sweatshirts toward you when he sees you start for the closet. You think it’s always a little cute- the way Bakugou, no matter how much he denies it, definitely has a thing for you wearing his clothes. Not that you’re complaining much, though.

When you finally slip under the covers, he is not far behind. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but he makes it very clear- by choosing to lie directly on top of you.

“You know,” You laugh a little, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear. “It’s almost like you actually did miss me. You’re being awfully clingy tonight.”

“No- that’s stupid. Stop being dumb- that’s- don’t say that shit to me again.” He mumbles, digging his face further into your collarbone. You can feel his lips against your skin- the way his cheeks are puffed into a pout. “That word is fuckin’ banned.”

“You can’t ban a word.”

“The hell do you think you’re talkin’ to? ‘Course I can.”

“You really cant.”

“I can. Shut up.”

You only laugh a little bit, trying not to squeak when he hugs you tighter. Your sides have always been ticklish, and Bakugou knows this- as it is now, he’s tapping his fingers just under your ribs. Like he’s daring you to keep defying him. Knowing him, he probably is.

Bakugou grunts, grabbing at one of your hands. He catches you around your wrist, dropping your hand into his hair. You both know what he wants but you can’t help yourself from teasing him again.

“See?” You laugh, but start dragging your nails against his scalp anyways. “You’re just proving my point. You’re clingy.”

“I’m not.”

“So, what, you just wouldn’t care if I got up right now?”

“Nope. Get up. Leave. Now.”

You shake your head, but you decide to play anyways. You always do when it comes to him.

He’s got you trapped under him, a solid weight against your torso. Still, you try your best to wriggle out, pressing against his chest with all your might. But, solid muscle doesn’t exactly budge easy and you’re going nowhere fast.

“Let me up!” You laugh, pressing against his chest once more. “I thought you said you didn’t care!”

“I don’t. Idiot.”

“Mhm, then why are you keeping me trapped here, huh?”

“‘m not.” He smirks, hands falling back to your waist. Bakugou presses his thumbs into your sides, smirking when you start to squirm. “Not my fault you’re too weak to get up.”

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

“Nah- you love me.”

You can’t help the incredulous laugh that spills from you then. He’s right- no matter how much your pride would like to say otherwise.

Bakugou seems to know he’s right too. You can see it in the curve of his smile, the way his eyes are two shades lighter than they normally are. Nobody would ever believe you, but when he’s like this, with you, you swear Bakugou could outshine the sun.

“Say it, dumbass.”

“Say what?” You laugh, scrunching your nose up playfully. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do. Stop playin’ dumb.”

“I’m not playing anything. I’ll say it if you say it.”

“The hell am I supposed to say?”

You just laugh, brushing the blonde hair back from his eyes. Bakugou blushes at the gesture, but he doesn’t push your hand away. If anything he pressed forward. Until you get the message once more, and start dragging your fingers through his hair.

“I’m not gonna say it. Dumbass.”

“I thought you didn’t know what you were supposed to say?”

“Shut the hell up.” He flusters, voice pinched and embarrassed. “I’m not- ‘m not sayin’ it, alright?”

“I know, I know, god forbid you admit that you actually missed me, right?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re not- don’t agree!” You laugh, lightly tugging on his hair in warning. “This is the part where you’re supposed to say how lonely you were, and how much you missed me, and how I’m such an important and vital part of your life.”

You finish with a dreamy sigh, playing up the theatrics for nothing other than you’re own enjoyment. All your met with is silence. Pure silence and then-

“Yeah fuckin’ right- ‘m not saying that stupid shit.”

You tug on his hair. For real this time. Not much, but just enough to get him to jump a little. Just enough so you could giggle, shushing him with your hands rubbing down his back.

“Fine, well I guess if you won’t say that either,” You start, smiling coyly. “Then I guess I definitely won’t tell you that I love you. Because you wouldn’t care- obviously.”

“No- that’s- that’s different. You can say that. I’m allowing you to. Why do you always gotta make everything so damn difficult, hah?”

“Because- nice boys get to hear nice things, and you’ve never been anything short of the devil incarnate-“

“Hey!”

“What, gonna tell me I’m wrong?” You smile fondly down at him. “Besides, I thought you were tired. No exhausted person I’ve ever known argues this much.”

“I’m tired- not falling asleep. There’s a fuckin’ difference. I just wanted to lay down.” 

His face is red, but you hardly even get to see if before Katsuki is hiding once more. Still, even if the execution was lacking, the sentiment still makes you love him all over again. 

“And you are wrong.” He starts again. “‘m nice to you all the time!”

“Yeah. When I force you to be.”

“That’s- you’re not right.”

“I am. Say one nice thing to me. Right now, c’mon. Prove me wrong.”

You’re egging his on now, challenge dripping from your voice. It’s the sort of badgering that always works with him, and it seems to be working now too. He sits up, hovering above you and braced on his elbows. 

“Fine. I-” He struggles for a moment, face going a violent shade of red. “I-I missed you. Happy?”

Truthfully, it does make you happy. Happier than anything else, but you didn’t plan to let him off easy. Not this time. With Katsuki, there’s only so much mercy to go around.

“Oh- you missed me?” You tease. “The Bakugou Katsuki missed little old me? Fascinatin-“

He squeezes your sides, driving his thumbs into your hips until you’re squirming and giggling. “Shut up. Dumbass! This is why ‘m never nice to you!”

You want to respond, but his hands are at your sides, poking and prodding and tickling you into submission. It’s the worst kind of torture, one that feels entirely brutal, but then you look up at him. He doesn’t smile often- not as much as you always wished he would anyways, but he is now. Bakugou is grinning like mad, all sharp teeth and loud laughter. Eventually he stops, letting you catch you breath, but he’s still smiling. You’d love to say something, but you don’t. You know he’d wipe the smile right off his face if you did.

“Fine fine, I’ll- I’ll be quiet now. You win.” You say, a hand on your chest as you catch your breath. “I do have just a few last things to say though.”

“Jesus christ. What now?”

“I love you.” You smile. “And I missed you. And I’m so glad you’re home.”

He smiles changes then, from wide and unrelenting to something tiny and tight lipped. You think you’ve made a mistake, but then his eyes crinkle up. His eyes crinkle up and his cheeks pink, and you think he’s so beautiful then that it hurts. 

Bakugou Katsuki is rough and tumble, but when you melt him down, he really is softer than anything.

--/---

n e wayz,,, soft katsu n shit-head katsu are best katsu,,, i said what i said

alsoooooo lmaooo i took a break but im back now!!! 

[duskholland]

ok but what about going to the gym with boyfriend!tom (i always workout alone and i have my gym crushes here and there) and Tom gets so worked up about it and when she notices she begins teasing him.........and smut happens 👀

obsessed with this.... i love a gym/post-workout moment... nsfw! minors dni <3

✧———clearing out my askbox!———✧

smut warnings ↠ semi-public sex, shower sex, hair pulling (ft brief pain kink), fingering, unprotected sex, cumshot.

——————

“Another five, darling. There you go. Keep going.”

Sweat prickles along your hairline, your face pulsing with hot blood. With each burpee, you feel your heartbeat quicken and your body get more tired, but you aren’t about to give up. Not with Tom, your boyfriend, poised in front of you, jumping up and down in sync with you.

He’s ridiculously attractive, even when he’s bossing you around in the gym. It’s been the cause of a few teasing comments from him already, as he’s caught you out taking breaks to ogle him. In your defence, it’d be hard not to look. 

Tom is in a pair of shorts and a tight black tank top, his biceps out and flexing every time he swings his arms around. His hair lies over his head in messy heaps, and his cheeks lie flushed with a healthy glow. Adrenaline looks good on Tom, and you can’t even be annoyed that he’s pushing you to go further because it’s so attractive coming from him.

“Fuck yeah,” he says finally. “We’re done.”

You finish your set and release a sound of relief, sagging forward and falling into his embrace. Tom laughs, his chest heaving as he holds you in a loose, sweaty hug. His neck is hot with perspiration, but you don’t hesitate to curl closer, savouring the brief moment of respite in his arms.

“You’re so mean,” you whine. You finally fall back, just to bend over and grab your water bottle from the spot on the mat. You take a few deep swallows of cool water before Tom grabs the bottle from your hands and shoves it past his own lips. “I’m so tired.”

Tom hums, jaw tensing as he swallows down mouthfuls of the water. “You’ll feel good, though. All those positive endorphins,” he says, grinning slyly. “I want to do some weights before we go, but I think that’s enough cardio for today.”

You make a loud sound of agreement. “Definitely,” you agree. You wave your hand at the exercise mats. “I’ll just do some stretches and wait for you.”

He nods and darts forwards to kiss your cheek before letting you go. “Okay, love,” he says. “I’ll just be over there.”

The gym is fairly empty this morning, and you’re able to find a spot on the edge of the exercise mats without much trouble. As you sit down on the squashy sprung mat, you pull your arms above your head and start to stretch out your shoulders. The weights station is directly opposite the mat zone, so you’re able to watch Tom as he browses the weights trolley before picking off a large dumbbell. 

You find yourself biting your lower lip as you watch him sit on the edge of a bench and start to pump it. Tom spots you staring, and you watch him smirk. He wiggles his brows before sitting up a little straighter to flex his muscles with more vigour. If you weren’t in public, you’d growl, the sight of his pulsing arms, flushed face and ripped figure making a hot flush travels out from your centre. As Tom licks his lips and intensifies his smirk, you find yourself shivering.

Two can play at this game.

You stand from the mat, biting your lip as a devious thought tickles you. Meeting his eyes, you raise a brow in question before turning around and facing the wall. You can feel Tom’s gaze on your figure, burning intently as you start to do some squats. The exercise is his weakness, especially when you do it, and you’re cruel for exploiting that information, but you find yourself smirking as you continue to drop low, arching your back and taking your time. 

To any casual observer, it’d just look like you’re very attentively exercising, but to Tom, you know you’re driving him mad.

There are mirrors set into the wall, and you watch as Tom abandons his exercise in favour of sitting there to watch you, jaw tensing. You meet his gaze through the reflection and flash a teasing smile, only for it to melt into fulfilment as you watch Tom mutter something to himself then stand up quickly. He hurries to put away the weight before picking up his phone and stalks towards you, his lean figure stacked with sweaty muscles.

He lingers behind you for a moment, eyes taking you in as you do a few low squats. Through the mirror, you can see his nostrils flare, his eyes shifting dark and heady. When you finish your set, you straighten up before stepping back a few paces to press your back against Tom’s front. He mutters a low, “fuck,” and you feel his member, quickly hardening as his crotch rubs against your ass.

“Darling,” Tom mutters, scooping your hair out of the way until he’s able to kiss your neck. Your skin is hot and sweaty, but he doesn’t hesitate to nibble up and down the side of your throat. “‘M so hard right now.”

You shiver as he laps over the sensitive skin of your neck. “Do you want to go home?”

Tom grumbles into your ear. “I can’t wait that long,” he complains, voice low and accented. “You look so hot, love. I’ve got a stiffy.”

Biting your lip, you turn around and take his hand. “Well,” you tease, “have you got anything in mind?”

He nods his head. “Yep,” Tom says. “Follow me.”

Tom takes you down to the unisex changing room, and you catch onto his idea as he points at some of the large shower cubicles. They’re each caged in with frosted glass, and like the gym had been, the room is unusually empty. There are a few people milling around, but no one else is in the shower room.

You bite your lip as you look at him. “Really?” you ask, but you’re already pulling off your shirt. Tom stands across the bench from you, similarly jerking off his tank top.

His eyes sparkle. “Fuck yeah,” he growls. “Did I tell you how hot you look in those leggings?”

After a little bit of negotiating with your clothes, the towels and the lockers, Tom pulls you into the shower cubicle. He turns on the water before pushing you up against the wall, caging you in with an arm planted on either side of your head as his lips find yours. You’re both naked now, your clothes discarded back in the locker, and you have to bite back a loud moan when you feel Tom’s hard cock slide to rest between the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Shhhh,” he murmurs, speaking into your ear. Tom pulls one arm away from your head and snakes his hand between your legs. He smirks as his index finger slips between your folds, rolling over your clit before shifting down to tease your entrance. You’re already wet, your body hot and aching from the time spend watching him work out upstairs, and you feel your hole pulsing and spasming against his finger as he curls it into your heat. “Anyone could walk in, baby... you’ll need to be really quiet.”

“Okay,” you manage. Your head falls back against the cool tiles of the back wall as you part your legs, allowing Tom to feed two of his fingers into your pulsing cunt. His lips close over your neck as he works you open, cock still brushing up against your thighs. You have to swallow a moan when he adds his thumb to your clit. “Shit,” you whine.

You reach up and run your hands over his shoulders, momentarily getting distracted by the muscles on his form. Tom’s been working out consistently for the past six months, and the evidence can be found in the definition of his shoulders and biceps. His muscles are so firm, and as you appreciate his strength with your hands, you feel yourself clench around his digits.

Tom smirks, leaning up to nose at your cheek. “Are you okay there, lovie? You seem a little distracted.”

You scrunch the tip of your nose as you twist a hand into Tom’s hair. His strands are saturated with droplets from the shower, and he’s still grinning as you bring him closer to kiss him.

“Fuck me,” you mutter against his lips. You gasp softly as he curves his fingers up towards your stomach, the tips of his slender digits caressing your g-spot until you whimper. You feel so slick, the space between your thighs coated with your arousal. “Do it hard. From behind.”

Tom licks his lips. He captures your mouth in a final kiss as he pulls away from you. An annoyed whimper slips from your lips as your cunt throbs emptily, but your mood is soon to pick up as he turns you in his arms. With his back pressed to yours, you can feel Tom’s erect cock, standing proud against your lower spine.

“You’ll let me hit it from the back?” he mutters, nipping at your neck. Tom’s large hands swoop around to cup your breasts, his fingers toying with your nipples as you gasp.

“Yeah,” you say. You bend over, reaching out to hold onto the metal control taps of the shower as you spread your legs and arch your back. You look back over your shoulder, eyes darkening as you watch Tom situate himself behind you, pumping his flushed cock in his hand as his jaw tenses. He curses as he meets your eyes. “Hard and fast,” you request. “Please.” You’re buzzing from the endorphins from your workout, and you find yourself craving your boyfriend’s firm touch.

Tom nods his head. A focused expression finds his face as he steps closer, resting one hand on your ass as the other stays wrapped around his length. You bite back a soft moan as he slides his tip between your folds, teasing your clit for a second before guiding his bulging crown up to your entrance.

“Are you ready?” he asks, voice barely audible above the stream of water pounding down beside you.

You bite your lower lip. “Fuck yeah,” you mutter. “Give it to me.”

Tom slips into you with ease, and your eyes drop shut as your head falls forward.

“Oh god yeah,” Tom mutters, burying himself deep within your heat. You bite your lower lip to muffle your cries as his thick cock presses your walls apart. “You’re so tight, darling. Oh fuck. Cunt feels like fucking paradise… Always so snug around me, isn’t it?”

You’re glad for the loud stream of water and the garish pop tunes that stream through the air because the noises of skin slapping against skin are audible to you. Your fingers wrap around the cool metal of the shower controls as you cling for dear life, your breathing laboured as Tom thrusts into you like a demon. As he shifts both hands down to grasp at your hips, the engorged head of his cock brushes up against your g-spot. Your back arches when he hits against your spongy back wall, causing your heat to tighten.

“Oh fuck,” Tom murmurs from behind you, his voice sharp and breathless. He squeezes your waist as he continues to pull you back to meet him, each rut of his hips against yours propelling him deeper. After a while, he shifts one hand away, hot fingertips dancing up your spine before burying into your hair. As Tom tugs on your strands, the ache in your skull makes you whimper. “Touch your clit, darling,” he asks, keeping his voice quiet.

When he releases your hair, you follow his instructions blindly, unable to think of anything beyond how good it feels to get railed like this. It’s clear that both of you are riding on the highs of your workout, Tom’s pace brutal as he spends all his leftover energy on you. You’re willing to take it, your greedy cunt revelling in the bruising pace he’s set and basking in the glow of his length stretching you out so well. 

Mixing in with the sounds of water thrumming against the tiled floor comes the sound of your puckering heat, clinging to his cock each time he buries himself in you. Quiet expletives tumble from your lips as you get to the edge, unable to vocalise your enjoyment but instead falling into the rhythm of pushing back against Tom every time he snaps his hips. With the way his fingers grow needier, holding at your hips with a slippery grip that only grows messier, you can tell he’s just as close as you. 

It doesn’t surprise you at all when Tom suddenly gasps, then you feel his cock start to throb inside you as his rhythm falters. The sensation of him shooting his seed into your desperate heat makes you spiral over the edge. You grip the bar of the shower tighter as you bite into the top of your arm to muffle your moans.

Tom slowly evens out his pace, continuing to fuck into you until you stand up a little straighter. He runs his hands over your ass and waist before stepping back, the discomfort of him pulling out quickly smoothed away when he gently coaxes you up and into his arms.

“So good, darling,” he whispers, holding you to his chest. His lips come down over the side of your face as his hands play with your wet hair. When you shiver, Tom walks both of you back, helping you into the stream of warm water. “You always do so well for me. Best girl, aren’t you? My best girl.”

He’s cooing and gentle, holding you with love in his arms and tenderness shining in his gaze. When you’re more stable, you pull away from his chest, feeling beads of his cum dripping down your inner thighs as you lean up to steal a kiss from his lips.

“Love you,” you mumble, folding into his arms.

Tom’s hands gently caress your spine, and you can feel him smile against your lips. He squeezes your ass with the palms of his hands before releasing you.

“Love you too,” he says. He reaches behind you and pumps the soap dispenser, lips brushing the top of your nose as he runs the lathering liquid over your wet form. “I’ll clean you up now,” he promises.

You bite your lip as you look up at him, blinking innocently. “You made a mess,” you say, thinking about your pussy, still clenching around droplets of his seed.

Tom arches a brow, eyes momentarily dipping down to your legs. A shadow of a smirk crosses his lips a moment later, then he’s pressing them back against your ear.

“Well,” he purrs, tone heavy and suggestive, “I think I know what I can do to help clean you up…”

[kimnjss]

pls i jus need to see do it again! yoongi for fucking yn rough as punishment for going out drinking after a fight and being angry at paparazzi pics of some guy following her around the club ❤️‍🔥

do it again drabble. explicit. 1.8K words.

>>

“it's not even that big of a deal!” eyes rolling as you storm away from him, once again. yoongi is two steps behind you the entire time, no intention of dropping the subject. no matter how many times you try to stomp off. “it is a big deal, yn! do you not get how this looks? you're my girlfriend,”

your dead set on ignoring him, focusing a little too hard on changing into your pajamas. “i don't belong to you,” you're saying in the emotionless tone that you know that he hates. deep down you know that you're wrong. you should've never left in the middle of a fight and the fact that you went out drinking didn't help.

an exact repeat of what broke you guys up the first time around, except this time you were the bad guy. yoongi, though, was just so annoying when he was right so you had every intention to argue your point until you were blue in the face.

so no, it wasn't a big deal that you left. and the guy that you met (which you didn't sleep with, so that sets you apart from him) just wanted to walk you to your car. it's not your fault that paparazzi caught the interaction on camera and now were spinning the entire incident. you couldn't control what they decided to type!

“you don't belong to me!?” the wrong thing to say to your possessive and extremely jealous boyfriend. especially while angry.

you both know the answer to that question, so you ignore him, eyes focused on yourself in the mirror as your fingers move to work the buttons of your shirt. you're trying not to look at him, because truth be told, your boyfriend was unlawfully hot when he was angry. and you weren't actually annoyed, just looking for reasons to stress him out.

he takes two long strides before he's standing in front of you. you're baring your neck, predicting his actions and he lets out a humorless chuckle as his palm wraps around your neck. barely squeezing but enough to get your attention. “you're mine. say it,” you make a show of keeping your lips pressed together, shaking your head from side to side.

yoongi uses the grip he has on your neck to pull your head forward, mouth luring yours into a sloppy kiss. you hate how quickly you melt into him, hands gripping the sides of his shirt as your jaw falls slack for him. he licks into your mouth, teeth biting into your skin and you take everything he gives you with needy whimpers.

you don't even realize the way your hands travel, fingertips gliding down the front of his body until they're latching onto his belt buckle. you're tugging him closer to him, feeling the hardness of his cock against your lower belly. what you had been arguing about flying out of your mind.

he notices, pulling back from your mouth in an instant. pink tongue pushing out to break the line of saliva that connects your lips and he's got this look in his eye like he could swallow you whole. you wouldn't mind seeing him try.

the grip on your neck loosens, his hand moving to grasp your chin and force your head up to look at him. his jaw moves before his lips are pursing a little bead of spit poking out from the pink pout. you're quicker than him. no desire to wait for it to fully leave his mouth, you're leaning up and swiping your tongue over his lips, collecting the spit into your mouth.

yoongi laughs, fingers burying themselves in your hair to hold your face against his. nose smushed together and lips inches apart. “so greedy,” the words leave his mouth just before he's pressing them to yours. the kiss doesn't last long, no more than a peck before he's lowering you onto your knees with the hold he has in your hair.

no need to wait for instruction, you know what he wants. hands reaching out to undo the buckle of his belt and pull apart the button of his jeans. his large hand comes down to do the rest, fishing his hard cock from its confines.

you watch on greedily as his hand glides over his length. it's hypnotizing. engorged head peeking out from the hole his fist creates, thumb lifting to brush over the sensitive parts. his hips move slowly, much slower than he does with you. it's teasing, almost. he goes until you're growing impatient and precum is rolling over his knuckles.

“open.” mouth forming a perfect 'o' before the demand has fully left his lips. you're reaching out for him, but he's moving out of your reach. “no hands,” the tantalizing way he brushes his cock over your lips has you quickly locking your arms behind your back. yeah, right, not his. look how well you listen.

yoongi doesn't take his time with filling your mouth, pushing himself down your throat before leaning back and then shoving his way back in. he does that a few times as you struggle to move your tongue along the underside of him. with a firm grip in your hair, he fucks himself into your mouth. setting a pace that has his eyes feeling heavy.

he can't believe how cute you look, mouth wide open, cheeks flushed, and his cock down your throat. if he pushes far enough he could make your eyes water. you had spent so long in the mirror gluing those ridiculous lashes on, it would be rude to fuck it up. he hesitates, but is quickly reminded of the fact that you're kinda a bitch... so he's pushing down further.

your throat is tightening around him in the way you know he likes and it nearly knocks him off his feet. you're looking up at him with this cocky look in your teary eyes, so it only makes sense that he wipes that look off your face. he pulls back without little to no warning, quick to lift your body from the floor and tossing you onto the bed.

you can't help but laugh at the annoyed look on his face as he makes his way over to you, legs spread and arms reaching out to him. he settles into them as if there's some magnetic pull, cock instantly resting between your damp folds. “i can feel how wet you are... who got you like this, baby?”

shoulders lifting in a shrug as you force the smile from spreading onto your lips. “you're such a little shit,” he says through a laugh, hand reaching between your bodies to properly align his cock with your entrance. it takes one swift movement of his hips to have him buried deep inside of you, pulling a loud screech from your lips.

he moves with enough force that has your body inching up the bed. tugging you down when you get too far only to have to do it again. yoongi knows exactly what to do to push you over the edge, cock filling you so nicely as he sucks hickeys into your neck. one large hand grips your hips, moving your body along with him.

and then all at once, he's deciding that he wants you kneeled down in front of him. and instead of asking you to move, he's flipping you over. now you've never told yoongi about your slight strength kink, but you're sure it's obvious with how you flutter at the way he uses his against you.

his hips snap into your at a bruising pace, the sound of skin slapping and your needy cries filling the room. he builds you up, fingers between your legs and toying with your clit only to knock you down, easing his pace into a slow grind. it drives you nuts and you're seconds from begging him to let you cum when it's dawning on you what he wants to hear.

as if. deciding to take matters into your own hands, you're reaching down, fingers instantly finding your clit. the gasp you let out gives you away much sooner than you intended and he's quickly swatting your hand away. “what did i say about touching my stuff?” quick to flip you onto your back, you're met with his unimpressed scowl.

cheeks flushed and a layer of sweat forming at his hairline... on his brow, he's barely holding on. “fuck, make me cum.” walls tightening around his length as you reach down to wrap your arms around his waist.

the words you say barely register as he takes in the way you look. hair knotted and laying wild around your face. mascara smudged beneath your eyes, your lips are red and swollen from the way you've been biting them, eyelash stuck to your flushed cheek. you're so pretty. his pretty girlfriend.

he nearly knocks the wind out of you with the harsh thrust of his hips. stuffing himself deep inside of you before pulling away and then attempting to go deeper. you can barely focus enough to match his rhythm, mouth hanging open as you pant. and then any reserve you have his shattering when his knuckles meet your clit. pinching and rolling it between the two digits.

your head tilts back, body arching off of the bed as a loud squeal falls from your lips. “yoongi, fuck! oh my god...” and then you're babbling. nonsense sentences falling from your lips all of them being different variations on being his. he takes the confession in stride, angling his hips to reach parts of you that he knows will have you falling apart.

and he's right. the orgasm he has been teasing for the past half hour comes crashing through. all you can do is lie there and take it, desperately trying to get closer to him as panted chants of 'all yours' fall from your lips. it does wonders for his ego and the release he's been holding back.

it's at the final squeeze of your pussy he's letting himself finally let go. hurriedly pulling out to spill his seed onto your stomach. you're barely able to keep your eyes open, moaning at the new warmth on your skin. yoongi laughs at the sleepy way your arm moves, fingers swiping up as much cum as they can before you're pushing them into your mouth.

his lips follow suit, lips pressed to yours just as your fingers are slipping out. he can taste himself on your tongue, but he doesn't care. too in love with the lazy way you kiss him to care, sticky fingers tangled in his hair. “you're all mine too,” you're mumbling, just in case he forgot.

that has a large grin growing on his features. “all yours,” nose nudging against yours as he leans in for another kiss. much sweeter than the ones before, gentler. it gives away how in love with you he is.

it's more than obvious to you. “you're so in love with me,” you're saying through a yawn, lips falling for his and head finding his chest. you're the least bit concerned with getting up and cleaning off and he's not going to be the one to make the suggestion. instead, he pulls you closer, arms wrapped around your shoulders.

you don't wait to hear him agree, already know the answer. he's made it clear time and time again, no matter how often you fight. “don't worry, i love you too,” words barely audible with your face buried in his chest, eyes shut. it's not long before you're both falling asleep.