#soft and teary heart after this chapter

[starl1ght444]

jason todd x reader

── .✦ PT.2 fluff

PT. 1 link HERE — PT.3 link HERE

[you and jason have a kid together, making bruce a grandpa]

[ 8.5k word count ]

* ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

february sneaks in with cold mornings and quiet afternoons. your apartment smells like cinnamon from the candle jason insisted on lighting last night, and the windows are fogged from the heat of the shower you just stepped out of.

you’re still in your robe, fingers curled around a mug of tea you haven’t sipped yet. your other hand rests over your stomach—not dramatically, not in a movie-scene way. just… gently. like your body already knows something your brain’s still trying to process.

you hadn’t been trying.

not really.

not yet.

but lately your body’s felt just a little off—tired in a different way. hungrier at odd hours. your favorite coffee suddenly smelled like motor oil. and this morning, after staring at the little box on the bathroom counter long enough to forget how to breathe… the second line appeared.

positive. — and now everything is still.

you hear the front door open, the familiar shuffle of boots, the soft creak of your floors as jason walks in from his morning run.

“babe?” he calls. “i brought you that muffin you like—blueberry. they only had one left, so i fought a grandma for it.”

you laugh quietly, setting the mug down and stepping into the hallway just as he kicks his shoes off.

he looks up at you and instantly pauses. something in your face must give it away—something soft and shining and a little breathless.

he tilts his head, concerned. “hey… everything okay?”

you nod slowly, taking a step closer. “i… yeah. i think everything’s about to be.”

he sets the bag down. “what dose that mean?”

you reach into your robe pocket and pull out the test, holding it in your palm like it’s made of glass. — jason stares… and stares.

and then blinks. “is that—?” his voice catches. “are you—?”

you nod.

his whole expression crumbles. the kind of shift that only happens when something hits too hard and too beautifully to be fully understood in the moment. his mouth opens, like he wants to say something clever or brave or perfect—

but what comes out is small. raw. “you’re pregnant?”

you smile, a little teary now. “we’re gonna have a baby.”

jason stumbles forward and wraps his arms around you so tightly it nearly knocks the air from your lungs. one hand cradles the back of your head, the other trembling slightly as it presses to your lower stomach.

“holy shit,” he breathes into your hair. “we’re having a baby.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes wide and wet, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks like he’s scared you’ll fade.

“are you okay? like—really okay? you feel alright?” he asks quickly, too quickly. “is anything hurting? should we call someone?”

“i’m fine,” you promise, laughing a little through your tears. “i’m okay, jase. really.”

he nods, but you can see the way his thoughts are spiraling—half joy, half panic, all love.

“you’re gonna grow a whole baby,” he whispers, voice full of awe. “you’re… incredible.”

you cup his face with both hands. “we are.”

he leans into your touch like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. “you’re sure you’re not scared?”

“i am,” you admit. “but it’s the good kind. the kind that means this is real.”

he presses his forehead to yours, breathing deeply. “i’m gonna take care of you. both of you. whatever you need—i’ll do it.”

“i know.”

“i’m not gonna be perfect,” he says quietly. “but i swear, i’m gonna love this baby more than anything in the world. and i’m gonna love you even more for giving them to me.”

your heart swells so full it aches. “we’re really doing this,” he whispers.

you nod, blinking away tears. “yeah. we are.”

and then he kisses you, soft and slow, like he’s memorizing the beginning of a brand-new chapter. his hands cradle your sides like he’s holding something sacred.

because he is. — because now, there’s three heartbeats in this little apartment. and jason’s daydream? it just started coming true.

“we need to make a doctor’s appointment,” jason said his head over filling with questions, incredibly nervous to mess up.

“i’ll make one for next week.” smiling down at his hands, holding you steady in place.

and you did, you made an appointment later on for next week. they got you in fairly quickly. the waiting room is too bright.

soft jazz plays from a corner speaker like it’s trying too hard to be soothing. the walls are covered in pastel posters and diagrams of smiling cartoon babies that don’t make any sense unless you’re already half asleep.

you’re sitting in a stiff plastic chair with jason next to you, his hand laced through yours. he’s been silent for the last five minutes—too focused, too still. but it’s not nerves. it’s something else. a quiet intensity, like the kind he gets before patrol, when every thought is narrowed to one single moment.

except this time, that moment is here— and it’s you.

you nudge his leg with your knee. “you good?”

he turns to look at you and softens instantly. “better than good. just trying to stay calm.”

you smile. “you’re squeezing my hand like you’re about to disarm a bomb.”

he loosens his grip but doesn’t let go. “sorry. can’t help it. you’re… you’re in there growing an actual person. i still haven’t wrapped my head around that.”

before you can reply, a nurse pokes her head through the door and calls your name. “ (y/n)—“ jason stands with you, helping you out of the chair like you’re made of glass, his hand on your lower back the entire walk down the hall.

the exam room is colder than expected, and the paper on the bed crinkles under you as you lie back.

the nurse is kind. she asks a series of routine questions—when was your last period, are you taking prenatal vitamins, any morning sickness? jason answers half of them for you, the kind of eager that would normally make you laugh if it weren’t so endearing.

when the gel is squeezed onto your belly, his hand finds yours again. he strokes your hair back behind your ear without even thinking about it. he keeps watching your face instead of the monitor like he’s searching for any sign that you’re okay.

and then— a soft fluttering sound fills the room. your heartbeat stills.

the nurse turns the screen toward you both and points. “there’s baby,” she says gently. “and that—” she increases the volume slightly, “is the heartbeat.”

jason stiffens like someone just knocked the air from his lungs.

his grip on your hand tightens. and then he’s crying. quietly, but undeniably.

his free hand covers his mouth, shoulders shaking with the kind of silent, overwhelmed happiness that only comes once in a lifetime. his eyes stay fixed on the tiny flickering image on the monitor—unbelieving, awestruck.

“that’s our kid,” he whispers, like it’s a secret, a prayer, a dream coming to life in front of him.

you can barely see through your own tears, but all you can do is nod and squeeze his hand back.

he turns to you, eyes red, face glowing in a way you’ve never seen before. “you’re amazing,” he says. “you’re so amazing. you’re doing this. you’re making life. i’m just—i don’t know how i got this lucky, im so so proud of you sweetheart.”

you laugh through a sob, and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, then one to your damp cheeks.

“you okay?” he asks, brushing your hair back again.

“i am now,” you whisper.

jason just stares at you a little longer, like he’s committing this moment to memory. because he is.

because this feeling? this overwhelming, impossible joy?

he never wants it to end. and in his arms, with you beside him and the sound of your baby’s heartbeat echoing in the air— he knows he’s never been happier.

“so who’s gonna be the one to tell your fami— nose goes!” you shout quickly bringing your finger to your nose laughing with tears still in the corner of your eyes carelessly dangling.

“nos—damnit!” jason sighed “i hate that game.”

the sun is still high when you and jason pull up to wayne manor.

the engine cuts off with a low purr, but neither of you move right away. your hands stay folded in your lap, heart thudding in your chest. jason glances at you from the driver’s seat—eyes soft, mouth twitching with a mix of nerves and excitement.

“you ready?” he asks, voice quiet.

you turn to him and nod. “are you?

he huffs a laugh, fingers reaching across the console to gently take yours. “nope. absolutely not.”

but he squeezes your hand anyway, and the look on his face says everything. he’s ready in the way that counts. terrified, maybe—but glowing with it.

the front door opens before either of you knock. dick waves from the threshold, wearing a smile and an apron dusted with flour. “you guys are late. dinner’s almost ready.”

“we were, uh, taking our time,” jason says, helping you out of the car like you’re suddenly fragile china, even though you’re not even showing yet.

dick raises an eyebrow. “is that code for something?”

“we’ll explain inside,” you say, smiling softly as you head up the steps.

inside the manor — the smell of garlic bread and roasted vegetables wafts through the massive foyer. you can hear tim and damian bickering in the distance, steph’s laugh cutting through the noise. alfred passes through the hallway with a wine glass in one hand and a towel draped over his shoulder, nodding to you both with a kind smile.

“you’re just in time,” he says. “i’ve made enough for ten. though, knowing master grayson, that may only cover seconds.”

“appreciate you, alfred,” jason says, patting his shoulder.

you walk through the manor side by side, surrounded by the easy chaos of family. and the longer it takes to get to the dining room, the more the nerves grow. it isn’t fear, exactly. just… weight. the kind that comes with sharing something real. permanent. world-changing.

jason’s thumb brushes yours. “we’ll do it after dinner. once everyone’s in one place.”

you nod again, your stomach fluttering for reasons that have nothing to do with morning sickness.

at the dinner table — by the time the entire family is seated—bruce at the head, alfred near the kitchen doors, and the rest of the siblings scattered down both sides—it’s noisy, messy, and full of laughter.

dick tells a story about stephanie beating him in a sparring match, and she doesn’t even try to deny it. damian rolls his eyes but can’t hide the smirk creeping across his face. tim’s already halfway through his second helping, duke close behind. cass and barbara are on either side of him, teasing them between bites.

you’re tucked beside jason, his arm brushing yours every so often. and the moment feels golden.

but jason hasn’t stopped glancing your way, and you haven’t stopped feeling the secret burn beneath your ribs.

“we should tell them,” you whisper to him between bites of garlic bread. “before dessert.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, eyes flicking toward bruce. “before someone starts guessing.” — as if on cue, bruce glances your way, then jason’s, with that subtle, unreadable batman stare.

“you two are unusually quiet,” he says mildly.

“just thinking,” jason replies smoothly. “about how to say something important.”

the table quiets just a little—not fully, but enough for the tension to thicken.

you press your hand lightly against jason’s knee beneath the table.

he clears his throat. “so. uh. we’ve got news.” — cass is the first to go still, eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.

tim glances up from his plate. “what kind of news?”

you look around at the people who have become family in more ways than one—people who have fought beside each other, bled together, laughed together.

and now, you were about to hand them something fragile. something that meant everything.

“we’re having a baby,” you say softly, voice shaking just enough.

silence. full, pin-drop silence. then—

“NO WAY,” dick shouts, practically launching out of his chair.

“holy crap,” steph yells right after, hands flying to her mouth. “are you serious?”

barb’s eyes go wide. “you’re pregnant?”

jason grins like he can’t hold it back anymore. “yeah. we are.”

chaos breaks loose. tim drops his fork onto his plate and just stares at you both, jaw slack. damian blinks once, then twice, trying to process it. barbara claps her hands together in pure excitement. and dick? dick practically vaults over the table to hug jason, nearly knocking over a pitcher of water in the process.

“DUDE,” he says, squeezing him tight. “you’re gonna be a dad?!”

jason laughs, hugging him back. “apparently.”

“i’m gonna be an uncle!” he yells, turning to you with wide eyes. “you’re gonna be a mom?!”

you laugh, covering your face with your hands as he pulls you into the hug next. “yes! i am!”

steph runs around the table to tackle you both next. “your glowing!” — cass gently nudges steph aside to wrap her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder.

tim finally finds his voice. “wow. just—wow. congratulations. seriously.”

and damian—stoic, sharp damian—leans back in his chair and stares at you both for a long, unreadable moment. then, with a quiet nod: “i suppose this means the next generation of vigilantes is on the way.”

everyone groans. “not even born yet and you’re already recruiting them?” tim mutters.

“shut up, drake,” damian replies, though there’s no real heat in it.

at the head of the table, bruce hasn’t spoken yet. but when you look at him, his eyes are wet.

not enough to spill. just enough to shine.

“you’re really going to be parents,” he says, voice low.

“yeah,” jason says again, a little quieter now. “we are.”

bruce nods slowly. “i’m happy for you. for both of you.”

then—so softly it nearly gets lost in the noise— “i hope i’ll be a good grandfather.”

the table falls quiet again. jason’s breath catches.

and in a rare moment, one almost no one would believe unless they saw it with their own eyes—

jason rounds the table, hugs bruce, and holds on for a full five seconds.

just five. but it’s enough. it says everything.

after dinner but before the dessert is cut, you and jason slip away from the dining room. not for long—after the laughter and the hugs and the congratulations, the manor slowly starts to breathe again. jason squeezes your hand and leans close to your ear, his voice quiet beneath the hum of voices around the dining room.

“come with me?” he murmurs. “want to talk to alfred, just us.”

you nod, heart full. he doesn’t flinch when you enter. doesn’t turn around with surprise. he just speaks in that warm, knowing voice: “i wondered when the two of you would find me.”

you smile gently and walk up beside him, standing close enough for the soft scent of bergamot to curl around you. jason steps behind you and rests his hand on the small of your back.

“we didn’t want to tell you in front of everyone else,” you say softly. “you deserved something quieter.”

alfred finishes pouring the hot water, then finally turns to face you both. his eyes are kind, his hands still, waiting. “we’re having a baby,” jason says. simple. honest.

and that’s all it takes. — alfred’s face shifts in that slow, subtle way only he can manage. not dramatic. not surprised. just… reverent. like the words have landed somewhere deep in his chest and are still echoing there.

“i thought as much,” he murmurs, voice velvet and pride. “but to hear it confirmed… what a gift.” he reaches for your hand first, holding it between both of his, fingers gentle and steady.

“you will be a remarkable mother,” he says. “i can already see it in the way you carry yourself. with warmth. with care.”

your throat tightens. then he looks to jason, and the silence between them stretches—not heavy, just full. thick with unspoken history and all the moments that led to this one. “and you,” alfred says quietly. “i have never been more proud of you than i am right now.”

jason blinks. his jaw tightens, like he’s trying to hold something back. “you mean that?”

“with every fiber of my being.” alfred moves forward and rests a hand against jason’s cheek—something he hasn’t done since jason was much younger. “you will be a kind, strong, devoted father. the sort of man you once feared you could never be.”

jason’s eyes shine, and he nods once. “i’m scared,” he admits.

“good,” alfred replies with a small smile. “that means you care deeply.”

he pulls them both into a hug. tight, long, grounding. — you think maybe it’s the best moment of the night.

but you haven’t seen what’s coming in the living room yet.

the couch cushions are sunken with the weight of so many bodies. duke has claimed the arm of the chair like it’s a throne. steph and tim are tangled up in a blanket on the floor. barbara perches near the fire, her eyes full of light. cass sits quietly on a cushion with a faint smile on her face, watching the room with quiet happiness.

you’re curled up next to jason on the couch, your knees tucked under you, his arm loose around your shoulders.

and that’s when you hear the soft thud of paws. — titus enters the room slowly, sniffing once, then twice, before making a direct line to you. his tail wags just slightly.

“hey, baby,” you say softly, reaching down to scratch behind his ears.

he steps closer, then gently rests his heavy head right on your stomach. jason freezes beside you, watching like he’s afraid to breathe. you smile, petting titus gently, your fingers threading through his fur. “he knows.”

titus lets out a deep sigh, then pushes himself a little higher—climbing halfway onto the couch before resting one massive paw across your thigh and his head against both you and jason.

“hey—” damian’s voice cuts in, sharp. “titus. get down.” titus ignores him entirely, clearly thrilled with himself.

“he’s being protective,” barbara says with a laugh. “he loves them.”

“he loves me,” damian says, visibly scowling. “he was trained to respond to my commands—”

“he’s got priorities now,” duke says with a grin. “he’s got a baby to watch over.”

“he’ll still love you, d,” steph teases. “you’re still the firstborn in his heart.”

damian doesn’t dignify that with a response, but the tips of his ears are pink. you laugh gently as titus shifts again, now practically in your lap, his chest pressed to your belly and nose nudging under jason’s arm. “he’s not going anywhere,” you murmur, hand still stroking his fur.

“good,” jason says softly, kissing your temple. “i want the baby to know him.” there’s a pause as the fire crackles softly.

then— “wait,” tim says, suddenly sitting up straighter. “does anyone remember the bet?”

steph gasps. “the baby bet from the barbecue!”

duke whistles low. “oh, yeah. we all threw in guesses for when they’d announce.”

barbara points a finger in the air. “i said christmas.”

“i said summer,” duke adds.

“thanksgiving,” tim mutters.

steph holds up her hand like she’s in court. “i said mother’s day!”

all heads turn toward bruce, who sits quietly in the corner armchair with a glass of something dark in his hand. he doesn’t smirk. doesn’t gloat. just lifts his brow like he already knows what’s coming. “new year’s,” dick says, groaning. “he said new year’s is when you’d announce, so technically he’s the closest”

“so… bruce wins?” steph says, groaning.

bruce sips his drink. doesn’t say a word. “ugh,” tim groans, flopping backward onto the rug. “of course the batman wins the baby bet.”

“he wins everything,” duke says, pointing at him.

“wait you guys made a bet on when we’d get pregnant?” you say, sitting up for a second grinning at the family while jason fake gasped, not entirely surprised by the family’s decision, more surprised someone didn’t offer him to help them out on the bet to get you pregnant sooner.

“well.. duh. did you see the way jason had that baby craving at the barbecue? we all knew someday soon it was gonna happen.” tim poked a joke and some half humming in agreement, others laughing.

“baby craving and barbecue don’t sound right together, i just can’t believe bruce won though! ” you laughed laying back down on jason,

jason grins, eyes flicking toward you. “he’s probably been planning his grandpa debut since the barbecue.”

“i can neither confirm nor deny,” bruce says, finally letting the corners of his mouth tilt up.

then barbara leans forward, eyes shining. “so… when are you due?” you glance at jason, who’s already smiling. “october thirty-first,” you say softly.

there’s a beat of silence. then— “halloween?!” dick laughs. “you’re having a baby bat on halloween?!”

“that’s the most gotham thing i’ve ever heard,” tim says.

“no capes for the baby,” steph says. “not until they’re at least walking.”

“i’m designing the first onesie,” barb adds. “it’ll have a tiny utility belt on it.”

damian glares at the room. “you’re all ridiculous.”

you sigh against jason, heart full, his hand resting over your stomach again—right where titus still snoozes contentedly. laughter and warmth fill the air like golden smoke. and for a moment, the world outside doesn’t matter.

just this. your family. your baby bat. and all the love waiting to meet them. the days pass like a soft breeze—gentle, slow, golden.

you blink and it’s august.

you stretch and it’s september.

you exhale and suddenly october is whispering around the corners of your apartment.

the light is different now. golden and low. afternoons spill through the windows like honey, and the air tastes like cinnamon and cool breeze. leaves have started to fall outside, painting the sidewalks in deep reds and soft golds.

your belly has grown, round and lovely, full of life. your skin glows with it. your body moves differently, gently, carefully, but your laughter still comes easily when jason is near. he doesn’t let you carry anything anymore. not a grocery bag, not a folded blanket, not even a mug of tea.

“you’re carrying a baby,” he says, brushing your hair back one night as he tucks a pillow behind your back on the couch. “let me carry everything else.”

he’s serious about it. borderline obsessive, even. but you let him fuss. mostly because it makes him happy. and maybe a little because you like seeing the way his eyes go all soft and focused when he’s looking at you. — especially now.

jason wakes up early—earlier than he needs to on a weekend—but he moves quietly, careful not to wake you. the second he hears you stir, he’s back at your side, pressing a kiss to your temple. “breakfast?” he asks, rubbing your shoulder gently.

you nod, still sleepy, and that’s when he leaves to meet alfred at the manor.

you found out from bruce that jason started asking for cooking lessons. just a few things here and there. mostly your favorite comfort foods. especially the ones that still don’t trigger nausea. “gotta keep her happy,” jason told alfred, scratching the back of his neck. “baby too.”

they make a list. soups. light pasta dishes. herby potatoes. the exact way you like your toast. how to time it so you don’t smell it cooking too much, just in case the scent turns your stomach.

he writes it all down. bruce catches him once, leaning over the stove with a furrowed brow, stirring something with absolute focus. “you’re taking this very seriously,” bruce had said.

jason just shrugged, a towel slung over his shoulder. “it’s for her. and the baby.” and then quietly, under his breath: “i don’t want to mess this up.”

your family comes into town for the weekend, the baby shower just a few days away. your little niece—is bigger now, walking stronger, speaking more words. and the second she sees jason again, her face lights up like a sunbeam. “jayjay!” she squeals, arms flung wide as she waddles toward him.

jason is toast. he crouches instantly, catching her mid-run and lifting her high into the air, spinning her gently with a laugh.

“there she is,” he grins, kissing her cheek. “my favorite partner in crime.”

she babbles something incomprehensible, then grabs his face in her little hands and squishes his cheeks. he lets her. he just laughs, holding her like she’s the best gift in the world.

you watch them from the doorway with your hand on your belly, your heart aching in the best way. you and jason don’t want anything over the top. so it’s simple. a mix of both families. your parents help set up in the backyard of the manor. your aunt brings homemade pies and little favors. cass helps hang streamers. steph handles the playlist. dick handles the jokes.

your niece follows jason around like a little duckling. she insists he sit next to her during cake. insists he play with her in the leaves scattered across the yard. she even tries to share her juice box with him, which he pretends to sip from with a grin. “you’re gonna be such a good dad,” you hear barbara whisper to him when she catches them sitting on the lawn together, the toddler’s tiny hand in his.

he doesn’t say anything at first. but his smile grows—quiet, proud, a little overwhelmed. “i really hope so,” he murmurs. “i really want to be.”

the manor gets quieter, cozier. sunday dinners become a routine again—alfred always insists you sit with your feet up, and bruce somehow always ends up next to you, asking quiet questions about how you’re feeling.

cass sits close, brushing a protective hand over your shoulder now and then. damian keeps sliding books about parenting across the table to jason like he’s passing secret files. and every week, someone brings something for the baby—booties, blankets, soft clothes in soft colors. — you swear even titus has started lying a little closer to you than normal.

you and jason spend your nights curled up on the couch, watching old movies, his hand always on your belly. sometimes feeling for movement. sometimes just needing to touch you, to remind himself that this is real.

that this dream is alive and growing. “how’s our little bat today?” he whispers, kissing your bump one evening.

you smile, carding your fingers through his hair. “kicking me all day. strong little thing.”

he smiles. then kisses again. then rests his cheek there, eyes fluttering shut. “can’t wait to meet them,” he murmurs.

“me too,” you whisper back. — you’re almost there.

that’s what everyone keeps saying.

“you’re so close.”

“any day now.”

“you’ve got that glow.”

you smile when they say it. or at least, you try to.

but god—if they only knew.

if they knew how your feet throb just from standing. how you haven’t slept more than two hours straight in weeks. how tying your shoes is officially impossible without assistance.

you’re not glowing—you’re sweating. you’re swollen. you’re exhausted.

and worst of all…

you’re hungry. all the time.

but everything makes you nauseous again.

your favorite meals? suddenly your stomach’s worst enemy.

things you craved just last month? now send you running for the bathroom.

you cry about it once at two in the morning, sitting on the kitchen floor in one of jason’s hoodies, staring at a piece of toast like it’s betrayed you.

he finds you there, bare feet cold on the tile, eyes wet and tired. he doesn’t ask what happened. he just sits next to you, pulls your legs over his lap, and wraps his arms around your middle.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, wiping your face. “i know i’m being dramatic.”

“you’re growing a human,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder. “you can be as dramatic as you want.”

you don’t even realize you’re shaking until his hand starts rubbing slow circles into your back. your forehead leans against his neck and you just… breathe.

jason.

he’s the only thing making this bearable, the only thing not making you nauseous or upset. only makes him you cry because of how understanding he’s become.

years ago a different version of jason would be incredibly impatient, and tried all the time. but growing with you for so long and filling in all the gaps of his personality has made him a better person for you, and your baby. gratitude on both sides of the story. 

your body hated everything but him

he helps you out of bed in the mornings, kneeling at your side before you even ask. your ankles ache. your back hurts. there’s pressure—so much pressure—deep in your hips, and some days your belly feels too heavy to even carry. “you’re doing so good,” he says, easing your weight into his arms.

“i feel like a elephant,” you mumble.

“a very cute elephant,” he grins. you swat at him halfheartedly.

he helps you into the shower. sits on the closed toilet lid while you rinse off, just in case you feel dizzy. he wraps you in the biggest towel you own, kisses the crown of your head, tells you how strong you are. tells you how beautiful you are. tells you he’s proud of you.

you cry again one night when you try to roll over in bed and can’t.

you’re stuck.

actually stuck.

you groan in frustration, tears prickling at your lashes from how uncomfortable you are. your legs feel like lead, your belly feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, and your pillows are all wrong. “babe?” jason mumbles, half-asleep.

“i can’t move,” you whisper, feeling defeated.

his eyes snap open. “okay—hang on, i got you.”

he’s gentle. careful. strong in the ways you need him to be. his arms slide under your back and legs, easing you with such softness that it makes your chest ache. once you’re shifted, he cups your face.

“better?”

“a little,” you breathe.

he grabs an extra pillow, fits it behind you just right, and kisses your temple. “you need anything else?”

you shake your head. and your voice cracks when you say, “just stay close.” his hand finds yours beneath the blanket, fingers intertwining. — “always.”

you hit thirty-nine weeks on a thursday

the doctor says everything looks good. baby’s strong. heartbeat steady. but you? you’re ready. so ready.

“how are you feeling?” your OB asks kindly.

“like my ribs are being karate-chopped from the inside,” you deadpan. she laughs, and jason does too—but his hand never leaves your back. his thumb strokes your spine. his other hand is braced on your thigh like he’s anchoring you to the earth.

you feel so worn thin. so… done. but when you look at him—messy hair, tired eyes, t-shirt wrinkled from worry—you feel a little less overwhelmed. after the appointment, you don’t feel like going home. you sit in the car in the clinic parking lot, both of you quiet.

then jason reaches across the console and gently places your hand on your belly. “you know what i think?”

“hmm?”

“i think they’re gonna be kind. like you.” his voice is soft. so, so soft. “i think they’re gonna have your eyes.” — he kisses your palm. “and i think i’m the luckiest bastard in the world.”

you turn your head, lean into his shoulder, and for the first time in days—maybe weeks—you don���t feel so tired. just full.

full of love. full of something so big and gentle it makes you forget about the pain for a little while.

the final week creeps by

jason starts working from home more, just in case. he puts together the bassinet with dick. tim installs the car seat. duke helps you organize baby clothes. cass leaves post-it notes with hearts and smiley faces in every drawer. damian makes sure titus is trained to stay gentle and close.

and bruce? bruce quietly offers to be on-call for anything.

“day or night,” he tells you both. “whatever you need. just say the word, there’s enough room for you to stay at the mansion too.. don’t be afraid to ask.” silently hoping you’d take him on the offer.

alfred checks in with food daily. he starts prepping snacks you can stomach again—things he knows won’t trigger nausea. small containers left in your fridge. teas that soothe your heartburn.

“you’re almost there,” he says kindly, helping you into a chair one night at dinner. “and you’ve done wonderfully.” you glance at jason—already sitting beside you, already moving to rub your aching back—and you smile softly.

“we’ve done it,” you whisper.

it’s quiet. too quiet, almost. but not in a bad way.

the whole world feels like it’s holding its breath. like time has slowed just for the two of you. outside the windows, the sky is painted in gentle blues and sleepy grays. the wind rustles the early fall leaves, and there’s a softness in the air that only comes in the stillness of the night.

jason’s hand is warm in yours as you walk down the hallway helping you after dinner, just the two of you. no family tonight, no phones buzzing, no background noise. it’s just him. you. the soft rhythm of your hearts.

you stop in front of the nursery. — the door is open just a crack. golden light spills out from the small lamp inside. the room smells like fresh cotton and baby soap. faint hints of wood polish and lavender from the drawer sachets alfred insisted on tucking into the dresser.

you take a slow breath. and then you step inside together.

the nursery feels like a dream it’s not overly fancy. not too perfect. but it’s yours.

there’s a soft, plush rug under your toes. calming colors on the wall. a bookshelf already half full with bedtime stories and soft-spined fairytales. a rocking chair in the corner that dick and barbara had fixed up themselves. and right there in the center of the room—the crib. the crib jason built with bruce, over a weekend in early september, hands calloused but careful, sanding the edges to perfection.

you both stand in the doorway for a long moment. not saying anything. just looking. “we did good,” you finally whisper.

jason lets out a breathy laugh. “we did great.”

you turn to look at him—his face lit gently by the warm lamp light, his expression soft and full of something so open and vulnerable it makes your heart squeeze. “come here,” you say gently.

he follows without hesitation, wrapping an arm around your waist, his hand settling right where your belly curves. your baby kicks once—just a soft flutter—but it makes both of you smile.

“they like your voice,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder.

“they like you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “they’ve got good taste.” — you stand there a while, just holding each other

then jason leans down, hands on your belly, voice barely above a whisper. “hey, little bat,” he says. “we’re ready for you. whenever you’re ready to come meet us.”

you feel your throat tighten. your chest swell. there’s so much love in this room it feels impossible to hold all at once. and when jason stands again, you reach for him. cup his face between your hands. trace your thumbs over his cheekbones. and he just—melts under your touch.

your voice is quiet but steady. “jason peter todd, i love you.”

his eyes soften instantly. “i love you too.”

you shake your head a little, laughing through the tears starting to prick your lashes. “no—i mean i really love you. like… i didn’t even know a love like this existed until you. you’ve been everything i’ve ever needed without me even knowing i needed it.”

you take a shaky breath, thumb brushing under his eye. “you take care of me like it’s second nature. you protect me without ever making me feel small. you make me laugh even when i feel like crying. and you’ve made this—this whole thing—feel like the most beautiful adventure, even when it’s been hard.”

his jaw tightens. eyes glassy. “you’ve made me feel safe in my body when it’s been the most uncomfortable it’s ever been,” you continue, voice thick with emotion. “and not just that—you’ve made me feel beautiful. powerful. like i can do this. because you believe in me so deeply that sometimes i forget to be afraid.”

you pause. smile, small and teary. “you’ve always been my home, jason. and now… we’re about to build one. with our baby. and i couldn’t be more grateful that it’s with you.”

you don’t expect the tear that spills down his cheek—but when it does, you’re there. kissing it. holding him like he’s held you through every ache, every sleepless night, every emotional spiral. he pulls you into his arms, careful of your belly, careful of your everything, and just breathes you in.

“you’re my safe place, my homeland,” he whispers into your hair. “you’ve bewitched me, and im so honored to make you feel these ways” he leans in to deeply kiss you “i will love you permanently….endlessly…until we’re both dead in the dirt, and even then, i will find you in the next life…i will find my way home to you.”

the two of you stay there until the moon’s high

rocking slowly in the chair. your hand in his. the soft light of the nursery casting shadows that dance gently on the walls. the room is quiet. safe. sacred. you don’t know it yet, but you’ll go into labor in the morning.

but tonight? — tonight is soft. and warm. and full of everything that matters.

you and jason.

in the nursery.

wrapped in each other’s arms. waiting for your next adventure to begin.

you wake up to sunlight— it slips through the curtains in long, soft beams—painting gold across the floor, the blankets, jason’s cheek. you lie still for a moment, soaking it in.

the apartment is quiet. still. warm. and jason is right beside you, deep in sleep.

he’s on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other hand still curled loosely in yours. his chest rises and falls with a steady rhythm, and there’s a softness to his face you rarely get to see outside moments like this. no tension. no shadows. just peace.

it’s rare—so rare—that he sleeps this deeply. without jerking awake from a nightmare. without the haunted edge to his breath. without flinching from invisible memories. and it makes you feel warm inside. honored. protective.

he deserves mornings like this. he deserves every good thing. so you try not to wake him.

you shift slowly, carefully easing his hand from yours. your belly is heavy—so heavy—and the ache in your back reminds you you’re nearly at the finish line. the baby is still. calm. and for a moment, so are you.

you swing your legs over the edge of the bed with a quiet breath. your slippers are just a few steps away. you’ll just get up, stretch, maybe make some tea. let him sleep a little longer.

you press your hands to the mattress, count to three in your head, and push yourself up— and then you freeze. the first thing you feel is the pop—a subtle, strange sensation deep in your lower abdomen.

and then comes the warmth. sudden. unmistakable. soaking down your legs and onto the floor in seconds. your breath catches. you stare down, stunned. “noway…”

you whisper it under your breath like saying it softer might make it untrue. but it’s true. you know it is. your water just broke.

you freeze for a second—then panic sets in “oh my god—oh god—” you reach behind you blindly, grabbing the edge of the bed for support.

jason stirs at the sudden shift in movement. you try to stay quiet—try to breathe, to stay calm—but your hand’s already shaking when you reach out and whisper his name. “jay…?”

he hums, half-asleep. “mm?”

“jay—baby—i think it’s time…”

his eyes snap open. and the moment he sees your face—wide-eyed, tearful, panicked—he’s up in a heartbeat. “what—what’s wrong? what happened?”

you swallow thickly, gesturing to the growing wet spot on the rug. “my water broke.” — he stares. blinks. processes. then moves.

the switch in him is immediate. he helps you back onto the bed with practiced, gentle hands, brushing damp hair from your face. his voice stays calm—steady—but you can see the storm in his eyes. “okay. okay. we’re good. i’ve got you,” he says, already reaching for his phone. “i’m calling the doctor. don’t move. breathe.”

you nod. trying to. your heart is racing. your hands are clammy. it’s too early. it’s real. it’s happening.

you blink away the nerves, squeezing your eyes shut as a wave of sensation rolls through your belly. not quite pain. not yet. but pressure. the kind that makes you feel like everything is beginning to shift.

jason’s voice is low as he talks to the OB’s office, repeating things back with mechanical calm. “yes. yeah—contractions haven’t started yet. water broke just now. no blood, no pain yet. we’ll head in right away.”

he hangs up and turns to you, dropping to one knee at your side.bhis hands are on your thighs, grounding you. “we’re okay. you’re okay.”

you stare at him. wide-eyed. overwhelmed. “you were sleeping so soundly,” you whisper, guilt creeping in despite everything, a tear wanting to form.

“baby—i don’t give a shit about sleep right now.” he smiles through the nerves, voice thick with love. “you’re about to have our baby. of course you wake me up.”

your laugh is watery. tired. real. brushing his sleepy hair with your nails through his scalp. “you’re not scared?”

he looks at you for a long moment. and his eyes are gentle when he says— “i’m terrified. but i’ve never wanted anything more.”

everything becomes a blur after that. you change into the softest clothes you can manage. he lays towels on the car seat. grabs the hospital bag. calls alfred. calls bruce. tries to keep from pacing holes into the carpet when your first contraction hits in the hallway.

it’s mild. more pressure than pain. but it stops you in your tracks—and jason is right there, supporting you with both arms. “breathe,” he murmurs. “i’ve got you. just breathe.”

he keeps whispering to you the whole car ride. rubbing circles into your hand. kissing the back of it at red lights. promising you that everything is going to be okay. and somehow—you believe him.

by the time the hospital comes into view, the sky is a perfect watercolor soft pinks. sleepy oranges. the kind of morning light that makes everything look a little sacred.

you close your eyes against the sun filtering in through the windshield, resting your hand over your belly. jason glances over and sees it. he doesn’t say anything—just reaches for your hand and links your fingers together. he lifts them to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. then your wrist. then the ring on your finger. you meet his eyes. and he smiles, teary-eyed and full of everything he doesn’t know how to say.

“we’re gonna meet them soon,” he whispers. you nod.

“we’re gonna be parents.”

the hospital room is quiet. soft beeping. the sound of nurses moving gently behind the curtain. the monitor beside you blinking in slow, steady rhythm.

your hand rests over your stomach, and jason hasn’t let go of your other one since they settled you in. he sits in the chair pulled close to the bed, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on you like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

but there’s a knock at the door. gentle. polite.

and when it opens, bruce steps in first, tall and still in his long dark coat, followed by alfred—warm-eyed and careful, holding a small thermos in his hands. “sorry,” bruce says softly, his voice lower than usual. “we didn’t want to intrude.”

you sit up a little, smiling tiredly. “you’re not, please, come in.”

jason straightens beside you, glancing over. there’s that flicker in his expression—still not used to this side of things. to being cared for by the people who used to only see him bleeding or bruised.

but they’re here now. and that means everything.

bruce steps closer, settling near the edge of the window. his eyes flicker from the monitor to your stomach, then to jason.

you expect him to look stoic. but instead, he looks… proud.

“i know your parents are on their way,” he says after a moment, voice quiet, “but if anything happens before then—i want you to know you’re not alone.”

you blink slowly, heart tight. “thank you,” you whisper. “they’re trying their best. flight leaves in a few hours but… they’re pretty upset they can’t be here for this part.”

“we’ll take care of you,” alfred says softly, stepping forward and setting the thermos down on the little side table. “your mother asked me to tell you she packed extra socks in your go-bag. and your father wanted me to remind you not to forget your phone charger.”

you smile at that, feeling your throat tighten. “they really did try to plan for everything,” you laugh, teary-eyed. “they’re so nervous.”

“as they should be,” alfred says gently. “it’s no small thing, after all. your world is about to change.”

you nod slowly, swallowing hard. bruce steps forward now, one hand resting on the rail of your hospital bed. “i’ll be right down the hall,” he says. “if you need anything. if jason needs anything. just press the button and i’ll be here.”

you glance at jason—and he’s just staring at bruce like he’s seeing him clearly for the first time. “thanks, bruce,” he murmurs.

bruce nods. then does something unexpected.

he reaches out and clasps jason’s shoulder. a firm grip. full of meaning. “you’re going to be a great father.” — jason swallows. hard.

his jaw flexes like he’s trying not to fall apart from just those words alone. bruce lets go. steps back. gives you both a final, warm look before slipping quietly out of the room to give you space.

alfred stays behind for a moment he sits carefully at the end of the bed, his hands folded in his lap, eyes soft.

“may i?” he asks. you nod. and he gently takes your free hand between his. his palms are warm and familiar, worn from years of care. “when jason was little,” he says slowly, “and he first came to live with us… he used to ask me to read him bedtime stories. not every night. not at first. but once he felt safe enough. once he knew i wouldn’t leave.”

jason shifts beside you, blinking hard. “his favorites were the ones with found families,” alfred continues. “ones where broken boys were loved anyway. where someone stayed. where someone always came back.” you feel your eyes sting.

“and now,” alfred smiles, eyes shining, “he gets to give that story to someone else.” you reach out with your other hand and squeeze jason’s knee. — he squeezes back, too overwhelmed to speak. “you’ll do beautifully,” alfred says, looking between you both. “i know it.” you nod, voice thick with tears.

“thank you for everything, alfred.” he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. the same one he’s given a hundred times to the boys who grew up under his care. “always,” he whispers.

then he stands and quietly excuses himself—leaving you and jason alone once more. — you sit in the silence for a while

your head tilted against the pillow. jason leaning closer, resting his forehead against the back of your hand.

“they love us,” you whisper.

“yeah,” he says, voice hoarse. “they really do, they love you so much… you brought us together again.. ”

and for a while, that’s all you need. your family is on their way.

the family you chose is right here.

and the one you’re building?

is just about ready to meet you.

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

:3 yayay!!! im not gonna leave you on a cliffhanger, i hate them so much so im currently writing pt.3 rn!! lmk what you’d like to see more of in it!!

also what do u think the gender will be :o

THANK U SM FOR READING MWAAHH right on the forehead <3 also i see the comments, u guys are so sweet ☹️ lemme just smother you with hugs, or give you a solid high five that echos yk! haha

have a good day / night wherever you are!! 🫂

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 3

I'm on a roll- don't expect it to last :)) but as of right now, Chapter 4 is done, Chapter 5 will be started, and I feel like each one will be longer and longer than the last- hope ch4 was just a one in a trillion thing

First || previous<< Chapter 3 >>next

Sleeping that night seemed to be a struggle on its own, nightmares plaguing your mind left and right. You’d fall asleep for 30 minutes and wake up, fall asleep for another 30 minutes and wake up again, and again, and again, giving up once you woke up at 03:33 am. No use in trying to sleep if you’re just going to wake up crying and gasping for air, heart pumping so hard you could hear the blood running through your veins.

You needed air, wanted something less stuffing than the four walls that seemed to close in around your shaking form. With bare feet, you made your way across the manor towards the garden. May as well try and do something productive.

The garden was loved and taken care of, once upon a time. The plants were dead, the trees dried beyond help, and the dirt may need to be changed as well if the roots have gone putrid and rotten, just to be sure. It’ll take years to bring the space to its glory, to how it looked in the painting, but you could feel it in your bones that it will be worth it.

Diverting your attention from the nightmares to the garden helped ease the shaking, the fear. The more you thought about the nightmares, the more you didn’t know which one scared you the most. Between relieving your mom’s death, accepting she was dead, that you’ll never see her again, that you didn’t even know where they buried her- and seeing Bruce as the one holding the gun, firing it at your mom, at you, and then laughing with glee, saying something you didn’t quite remember…  You couldn’t decide which one you hated the most.

Your eyes trailed the walls of the manor, up to the roof, and back down. You wanted to call him dad, hug him, have him come to your recitals and activities, and have him love you like Officer Gordon said he would. And yet, no matter how close he seemed to you, he was farther away than the moon. You hoped it was just your awkward self, that maybe your anxieties were putting ideas where there shouldn’t be any. Today’s breakfast only seemed to fortify said anxieties.

“When will I go back to school?” The question fell from your lips so quietly, and the silence it created made you sink into yourself. Bruce’s eyes had been glancing at you non-stop, but now they were fixated on you, non-blinking. He hummed, low and thoughtful. “You’ll be moved to online schooling. After what happened to your mom, I feel it will be safer for you to stay inside the manor for a while”

“For forever.” The shadows hissed in his ear, but Bruce simply cleared his throat, checked his watch, and left, Richard following soon after at the man’s nudging. Bruce will drive Dick to school. Your eyes remained on your plate as they left, remaining quiet for a while.

“Mama said I should make friends.” Your teary eyes met Alfred’s again as your lip trembled. “How will I make friends if I can’t go outside?” The older man’s hands were rubbing together behind his back. He felt as inexperienced as when Bruce was a toddler, as unsure of what to do as when he was with his father. That was a rare feeling for the man.

With a soft sigh and a shaky hand placed on the young kid’s shoulder, Alfred did what he did best. “I am sure you will have many opportunities to make friends, young miss.” He lied. You knew he was, and yet you held onto the hope. Bruce said it’ll only be for a while- so maybe, just maybe, in high school, you’ll have tons of friends.

You finished your plate, eyes still wet, but at least you didn’t cry. Your insistence to help Alfred was only met with a soft smile and a shake of his head, the man insisting on you enjoying the free time you have, telling you that perhaps you should go and buy some clothes, some decorations for your room.

Again, you mentioned the insanity of leaving a kid to buy whatever they wanted, but Alfred only laughed. “Can- is there a laptop I can use? Mama always let me on hers when we ordered something online. It’ll be easier for me…” You asked so softly, almost going into rambling as anxiety of sounding like a brat, like you were ungrateful for the phone, settled in.

Alfred didn’t even blink, no muscle on his face twitched as he only nodded, saying he’ll bring one to your room straight away. That was easier than expected. You were so used to your mom saying no, or bargaining with her for new shoes, and you understood- you didn’t have that much money, could barely scrap by… But the way the Waynes threw money around felt irresponsible. Does Bruce truly make that much money that he doesn’t have to worry about losing his home? What if he loses it all one day? Does he have a savings account? Your tummy didn’t feel good worrying about all that, mama always said that only adults should worry about money.

You don’t think your mom would like Bruce very much. That thought filtered through your brain for quite a while as you looked up how to take care of a garden and specific plants you wanted to see bloom. He was so cold, distant, creepy, and secretive. Your mother always dreamed of a loving man, strong but gentle. You never understood why she put up with the men she hung out with considering they were exactly like Bruce.

Alfred interrupted your musing as he knocked, opening the door only when he heard your voice. He left the laptop and its charger on the desk, and his only words were to inform you of the timetable for eating.  “But, of course, if you get hungry before then, you’re more than welcome to the kitchen, young miss.” And he left just as fast as he came, barely having the time to ask where your mother would be buried. You doubted Bruce would hold a funeral for her. Alfred just said he’ll look into it.

With a small huff, you went and plugged the charger into the wall and laptop before opening it. Bruce gave you the card to use, and if he can’t be bothered to go with you to stores, you can surely get whatever you want. He’s so rich, you can bleed him dry a bit.

In the end, you didn’t. You felt too guilty about buying clothes and things for the garden, so your desires for those shiny metallic watercolors and 360 markers were exchanged for a few sketchbooks and graphite pens. Your mother is rolling in her grave at how much you spent, you were sure, so you rationalized the guilt to simply wanting to perfect your skills before buying those fancy things.

You got the clothes a size or two bigger, just like mami did, so they’ll fit you for longer. Simple things, pajamas, socks, underwear, and a few pairs of jeans and T-shirts, things she’d buy for you since you were unsure of what you were supposed to get.

You hoped Bruce wouldn’t be too angry, he was a scary man now, and you dreaded to see him angry. On the garden side of things, you may have overindulged. From all the tools you got, to the kind of soil, to the types of flowers, to making sure you got beds for the plants. The soil outside truly looked beyond saving. But if he was okay with Richard’s desire for more gymnastics equipment, surely he'd be fine with this.

At lunch, you were informed by Alfred that Bruce and Dick won’t attend dinner. It didn’t surprise you, however, it still felt like they were avoiding you, and it still hurt. Perhaps this will be the new normal, the everyday occurrence. Maybe this was normal for them, you were sure high school and work kept them both busy… Will they ever have time for you?

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae Forgot the tags D: my bad

[buckyalpine]

My First and Only

Virgin Mob beefy Bucky x reader

So I'm taking my drabble and making into a one shot. Our beautiful, rugged mob boss whose glare make grown men cower is just a sweet shy thing on his wedding night. He has his wife to guide him poor Bucky is even more nervous because he doesn't want to disappoint his princess. Do keep in mind he's going to be a menace once he's well practiced.

-

"The right one will be worth it Jamie" Bucky's mothers words echoed in his ear as he sipped on a glass of whisky, the loud bass of the club music making the ice in his glass clink. "You'll know when it's the right time"

He was sixteen when she told him that, around the same time that he started working closer with his father, preparing to take over his families business. With money came power and with the money the Barnes' had, it was near limitless. The last thing Winifred wanted was for her son to go down the wrong path, one filled with greed, violence and lust.

She raised him to respect those around him and himself. To see beauty in living things, to love others and above all else, to value what it meant to share a life with someone you cared for. It was a sharp contrast to the way George ruled with an iron fist but it gave Bucky the balance he needed to be an excellent leader.

Under his mother's guidance, he followed the path that lead him to where he currently sat along with his two right hand men, Steve and Sam, the three men sipping on a dark amber liquid, ignoring the numerous girls that tried to fling themselves at their table.

"You'd think they'd get the hint after you said no to the first three" Steve chuckled while another woman slinked up only to have Bucky politely shake his head.

"Think you'll say yes to any of them?" Sam playfully shoved Bucky's shoulder already knowing the answer. Whenever they were out, plenty of women would approach the mob boss only to be turned away every single time.

"Not tonight" Bucky snorted, knowing he'd be ready when he found the right one. It was just a matter of time.

Looking at him, it was doubtful anyone would think or know Bucky was a virgin. He'd dated girls before but no one made him feel anything that also captured his heart. Of course, its not like he told anyone what he did or didn't do with those girls. He certainly didn't look like someone who lacked experience. He took care of himself when he needed to, after all he was still human. His right hand knew exactly what to do when necessary.

He met his pretty angel at a flower shop. He was there to get a bouquet for his ma's birthday and left with your number instead, quickly going back with a blush on his cheeks, realizing he didn't get what he initially came for. Bucky knew he'd found the one when the first thought that came to mind after his date was that he had to take you home. Not to his bed but to his family. To show everyone the sweet girl he knew he'd love for the rest of his life, the one he instantly knew was for him.

"You better protect her with all your heart" Was the only thing his father said before patting his shoulder whereas His mother didn't say a word about you after you'd both first met. She simply handed Bucky her wedding ring, already recognizing the lovestruck look on her sons face.

When he kissed your lips at the altar, he nearly fell to his knees, the soft warmth of your skin already making him woozy. He didn't leave your side the entire night, his arm protectively around your waist, so in love with the one person he got to call his for the rest of his life. Your first dance was filled with soft kisses, whispering sweet nothings to each others while your loved ones watched with teary eyes. When the SUV came to whisk you both away, Bucky still didn't let you go, holding you tightly in his lap, ready to start a together new chapter as husband and wife.

The very first one being in his bedroom.

-

Bucky didn't understand this feeling. It was brand new to him. He'd felt every emotion under the sun except this.

Shyness.

Pure, innocent shyness.

God, he'd never felt so shy in his entire life, it was almost embarrassing. He shook his head at himself; he was over 6 ft tall, covered in dark ink but the thought of going to bed with his sweet wife was what was going to take him down.

"Jamie, can you help me with the back please?" You stood in front of the dresser while his sucked in a breath, his fingers fidgeting with the delicate buttons down your back. He carefully undid them, letting his hand ghost down your spine, his breath catching in his throat when your dress fell and pooled around your feet. You stepped of it, left in your white lingerie and heels, bending over to unstrap them, only to have Bucky stop you.

"Let me, sweet heart" He got down on one knee, taking off the tiny strap wrapped around your ankle and slipping your heels off before standing up again, taking in the soft lace that barely covered your body.

You took off his blazer before you unbuttoned his shirt, smiling at the way he held onto your waist, his thumbs tracing small circles onto your hips. He didn't know where to focus, feeling your lips kiss his chest where he had tattooed your name over his heart to the way your soft breasts were now pressed against his body.

You let your hands caress over the thick planes of muscle while going down to his belt buckle, various pieces of art covering his body in the most beautiful way. Bucky's heart hammered against his chest as your hands trailed down to unbutton his pants, your nimble fingers brushing over his throbbing erection.

He hopes you don't realize how nervous he feels when you unzip his pants, letting it fall to his feet. He gives you a shaky nod when you look up at him for permission to pull down his brief's, letting you see all of him for the first time. Your fingers hook around the waistband, puling them down his thick thighs, till he's left perfectly bare in front of you. His thighs tense together at the soft gasp you let out, scared he'd disappoint you some how though the very thought is ridiculous.

You can't help but take a moment to admire you perfect husband in his all naked glory, his thick, heavy cock curved towards his tummy, heavy balls, achingly full. The blush on his cheeks deepen when your eyes flick down to his most intimate parts; no one else ever seen him like this before, not since he was a baby. You lean up to give him a reassuring kiss while he slips his hand into yours, taking you to bed. Every part of him wants to pick you up, throw you over his shoulder and toss you on to the large mattress but not tonight. You lay down with him against the soft pillows, the silky sheets under you cool against your skin while he gently tugs on the straps of your lingerie.

"Can I?" He whispers, still to nervous to do anything while you move his hands to the clasps of the lace.

"M'your's Jamie" You nod, letting him take his time unhooking your bustier off, his eyes growing wide at your perfect bare breasts. You know its his first time and there's nothing more you want than for him to know you trust him completely and you're all his.

He doesn't waste any time slipping your panties off, his tongue darting out to lick his lips at the sight of you naked on his bed. It starts off slow and innocent. He doesn't rush to do anything, taking his time to hug you close to him, relishing on the feeling of your bare skin on his between soft kisses. He struggles to calm himself down with the way your soft body is pressed against his, your leg hitched over his waist, his cock itching to rut against your tummy for more friction. His wide, thick body engulphs you when he holds you close, his hands skimming up and down your waist before trailing up your spine.

His heart starts to hammer again when he starts to trail kisses from your jaw down to your neck wanting to touch more of you. He wants to show you how much he loves you, gently taking a nipple into his mouth, moaning as soon as he starts to suckle. Your back arches, a gasp melting into a moan at the way his tongue flicks and moves in circles between his lips tugging and sucking your peaked bud.

Nothing compares to how warm and soft your breasts are in his mouth, his cock starting to leak. He so lost in kissing and sucking your breasts, precum smearing all over your tummy, where his cock rests against.

"Can I Touch you baby?" you whisper, kissing his forehead when he looks up at you with wide eyes. He quickly nods, pressing his hips against you showing you where he needed you most while refusing to take his mouth off your breasts.

You hand goes down to gently palm him to giving poor baby some relief. You wrap around his thick shaft, loving the needy muffled moan he lets out, his hips moving on their own when they thrust up into your fist. He doesn't even realize he's practically humping into your hand, your lips nipping down his neck.

"I-

"What is it James" You ask with your sweet doe eyes and he manages to blush more. He should be the one making you feel good and taking care of you but instead here he was, scared he'd cum before getting a chance to be inside you. You see his eyes trail down your body, darting down to between your legs, understanding he wants to touch you too. You pull away slightly, lying down on your back for him because fuck, you needed to feel him.

"Angel" His voice was breathless as you spread your thighs apart for him, giving him the perfect view of your soaked pussy and swollen button. He could feel precum starting to dribble from his tip; there was something so beautifully erotic about the way you were giving yourself to him despite how shy you were yourself. Displaying your most sacred and intimate parts to your husband so he'd take care of you.

He loves the way your face contorts with pleasure each time he rubs your clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles. He doesn't get a chance to toy with your for too long when you peck his pouty lips before trailing kisses down his body. His eyes grow wide when you get closer to his cock, his hips nearly lifting off the bed so you'd know where he needed you so badly but too shy to ask.

You take your time to clean off his slick precum that's beading from the tip, his swollen cockhead growing more sensitive each time you flick your tongue across his slit. He lets out soft, sweet babbles when you take him down your throat, his salty taste coating your tongue.

"You're making me leak" He whimpered, biting his lip to keep from letting more high pitched whines slip out, "dragă, st-stop, I'll c-cum"

He's never sounded more gone, gripping onto the sheets while you swirl your tongue around his head one last time before pulling off with a pop.

"oh-OH" His eyes grow wide when you drip down further to take his balls in your mouth instead, the sensation different that anything he's ever felt. A steady dribble of slippery arousal streams out of his cock while you nurse on suckle his heavy sac, addicted to your husbands distinct, sweet taste. You love how heavy he feels in your mouth, the smooth silky head of his pink cock begging to be sucked again.

He know's he'll cum if you keep on going which is why he pulls you up, kissing you deeply before settling you comfortably against the pillows again. He wants to make love to you so badly, even if it's not perfect the first time. He wants to give himself to you, nervously blushing when you spread your thighs for him while he pumps his cock.

"Are you ready?" He whispered against your cheek, the both of you nearly trembling with anticipation when you nod, letting him line his tip up with your fluttering entrance. He lets out the most desperate moan when he starts to push in, his body weight falling on top of you while his cock throbs, already close to cumming.

"Angel, I think m'gonna cum" He whimpers against you neck, knowing the slightest movement will make him blow his load. He hugs and clings onto you tightly, rutting himself into your cunt with the most gentle roll of his hips.

"Want you to feel good Jamie, it's okay" you hug him back while he pants harder trying to give you deeper strokes, he wants to make you feel good, feel how much he adores you by giving you pleasure but he just can't. You feel too good, pussy so warm, silky and soft.

"P-please cum for me angel" He pleads, his hand slipping between your bodies, finding your throbbing clit, rubbing quick circles with his thumb.

"J-James!" You hold onto him tighter, spots starting to cloud your vision with the way he's toying with your body as if he's touched you for years, his cock reaching depths you didn't know existed. "Fuck, fuck baby, feels so good" Your moans nearly turn into wails when he moves faster, his orgasm barreling towards him when you start to clench around his cock.

"Need you to feel good angel, don't wanna cum yet, wanna make love to you" He hides his face against your neck to try and muffle his moans but it's not use, a few sloppy stokes in and hes pumping you full of his seed, unable to stop as stream after stream burst from his cock.

"I-f-fuck, Swetheart, m'cumming- I-oh-hng princess-" He practically rolls over with you, still buried deep in your pussy, your mixed arousal soaking the sheets. His body shudders and he continued to thrust his hips up, grabbing your ass to keep you flush against him, moaning into the crook of your neck, "m'cumming so much for you, god I can't stop"

And he doesn't stop.

You gasp, feeling him still somehow rock hard, his sensitive cock still thrusting into you, his cum making it easy for him to slip in and out of you faster.

"Not done pretty girl, gonna keep my cock in you all night"

****

"Was I okay?" He whispers innocently while you cuddle into his chest, the both of you still naked, snuggling in the sheets. You giggle at his adorable expression, pecking his lips

"Of course baby" You reassure him again, your body still trembling from the way he pulled a second and third orgasm from you.

"Is everything okay for you?" You check in with him, loving that the question okay makes him shy again, the pink on his cheeks now moving to his neck and ears.

"M'happy I waited, that you're my first and only" He playfully shrugged, struggling to meet your gaze while you hugged him tightly, closing your eyes. The both of you drift off to sleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night, blindly reaching for each other again.

No words are said but you end up on top, dinking down on his cock, bouncing up and down, the lights turned off, only the glow of the moon illuminating your skin. He can't help himself, greedily pulling you down towards him when your breasts bounce in his face, desperately suckling on your nipples.

Between the way you ride him and the way your soft breasts in his mouth feel, he doesn't even realized he's whined mommy, eyes closed and clinging onto you like a baby.

Keep in mind, this was Bucky's first time. He's surprised at how needy and subby he can get for you, so desperate to please and pleasure you.

Until he starts to get more comfortable.

When he discovers his dom side the bedroom.

He learns he loves when you call him Sir and Daddy. On the rare occasion the house is empty, he becomes the most filthy fuck you'd meet, pulling his knife out whenever he wants to strip your clothes off and getting on his knees to eat you like a man starved. He'll bend you over anywhere; over the banister, over the kitchen counter, the table, the stairs, the floor when he wants.

If he's not nursing off of your clit, you're between his meaty thighs giving him the most sloppy head of life and he's never been more thankful for his sound proof walls.

He loves being a switch the most, alternating between begging to get a chance to taste you and then railing you with his cock till your crying and dripping with cum.

[faeyun]

BETWEEN TWILIGHT SKIES ───𝓅𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾: 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

in a world that’s on its dying breath, the once green and lush landscapes get buried in more and more layers of ash. the once flourishing streets that were full of magic are now a dull hum. yet, there is still hope—and it lies in the hands of you and kai, the last people to possess magic. suddenly, you remember the story of a forest that watches, and a well of life that lies deep within. you’re determined to save your bleak world in any way that you can, yet, you weren’t expecting to end up in a brand new world entirely.

pairing ⸝⸝ huening kai 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳!𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢 (𝘰𝘤) & 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳!𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢 (𝘰𝘤)

genre ⋆ 📖 ⸝⸝ angst, fluff, a lot of yearning and longing (both romantic and platonic), magic, sorcerer!kai

warnings ⸝⸝ kidnapping, toxic environments and parental relationships, implied bullying, two instances of reader getting slapped, violence, death (of people & animals), depictions of gore, implied anxiety attack and abuse, hand holding & staring into each others eyes, tension filled kissing

𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ the series has finally started!! now listen, listen, listen!! i know what you’re thinking, “a prologue and it’s 7.6k????” but i need you guys to STAY WITH ME!!! stay with me and lock in and after reading it all you’ll understand why it had to be this long lmao… next chapter you’ll meet yeonjun hehe~~ i hope you enjoy!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ❨ 7.6k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓼𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝒎𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

‎ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏͏ 𐦍 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏NEXT ⤇

The world around you had begun to wither away and decay long before it had started to end. As most things do, the rot had started to creep its way in through love. It had used it as a gateway, spreading its sickness all throughout the things you touched until it was the thin wisps of ash coating your cracked fingertips. Still, you let the rot in—let it corrupt the things you loved and change them into something unrecognizable, something unimaginable—something that was now dead and gone. You just couldn’t let go of the small doses of love you were granted with—naively gulping down tasteless sips to fill that hole inside your heart left by people you never even really knew.

You cradled love like a child guards its favorite toy; with fear and hesitancy. It was clear in the way your body hunched over and you looked up at every grown-up through wet lashes. Obvious in the way your dirty clothes hung limply from gangly limbs—once a tight fit but now they seemed to be made for a child much older than you. It must’ve been what enthralled her, what made her decide to pluck a random child no older than five off the street in the middle of the night and take them home.

In a way, you guess you had to thank her for the senseless crime she committed; for it gave you a warm bed to lay your head at night and food to fill your growling belly. It didn’t bother you that it all had come at a price, in fact, you were none the wiser. But, you’d know soon enough. The mask can only stay on for so long before it starts to crack—before it starts to rot like everything else did.

Lamia, is the name she sweetly whispered next to your ear as she tucked you into a bed that was never yours that night. “But, you can call me Mom,” she said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was hard watching things change in front of your very eyes. It was never the way people described it for you. Not the slow twist of vines along a column or the grass growing taller than a fence—no. It was the whipping of wind across your face. You’d go to wipe your teary eyes and find the sunny and warm scenery was now cold and dead with glittering snow laying everywhere.

You hated it.

You wished that things could stay as they were for as long as they could. You hated watching the faces of people you’ve grown to know dip and sag with age in an instant. You hated watching the life leave their eyes in a quick blink. And you hated how life seemed to go so slow for everyone except for you.

If you could dare to wish for one thing, it would be more time.

Sweet nights and even sweeter days began to sour, and Lamia—your mother—wasn’t as kind as she used to be when you were still a child. You think that that is what hurt the most with this odd whipping of wind, that you were forced to watch the love your mother held for you leave her eyes faster than you got to grow up to the young teenager you were today.

“Welcome to the Freywolf Inn!” you heard her voice exclaim to the ringing bell of the door. It was a careful blend of welcoming and cheerful. The sound was drowned out of your ears by the incessant sound of a brush against hardwood and soap mixing with water. You sat back on your knees, throwing the brush into the soapy mess and letting it clang against the floor, sighing. You wiped the back of your wet hand across your forehead and sucked in a breath.

Your knees ached and your hands were sore and cramped. This was the worst part of your mornings. No matter how hard you scrubbed these wooden floors, it wasn’t enough for Lamia. If they didn’t shine as if freshly polished when you were done then you scrubbed them wrong and she made you clean them again. Standing up on weak legs, you looked over your shoulder at the new customers as you reached for the bucket of dirty soap water. A soft gasp left your lips and you had to hold on tight to the bucket handle with both hands to ensure its contents didn't go spilling all over the floor.

You’d recognize them anywhere—the Collective, with their hooded, light forest-green cloaks embroidered with gold filigree and its golden satin insides. You never saw a member in person before—not that you were particularly excited to. Seeing a member of the Collective, so far away from the School of Pith, could only mean one thing…

The rot was here.

Frozen like a deer caught on sacred ground, you stared wide-eyed at them as they made their way to the common room, their carefree laughs carrying in the air around them. It felt like a bad omen—a confirmation. You tried so hard to ignore the fate of the things around you, but seeing that you could no longer hide from it was like a punch to your stomach.

Strangely, you also couldn’t help but be morbidly fascinated by it all. You exhaled slowly, steadying your racing heart and stilling your shaking hands that grasped the handle of the wooden bucket. Distantly, you felt the sting of pain across the back of your hands and shut your eyes. Only when every last molecule of air was absent from your lungs did you allow yourself to gulp in more to soothe the burning—just like your mother taught you.

Your eyes fluttered back open and landed on the group of sorcerers. They playfully practiced their magic out in the open—ringlets of green floating in the air and curling around their fingers and forearms. Their hands moved in peculiar ways, a jerk here or a smooth twist of their wrist there. You couldn’t understand it, but the more you watched them perform magic in front of your very eyes, the more you wanted to. 

One member stood out to you in particular. He sat off to the side, a small distance away from where the others engaged and practiced their magic at, by himself. Dark hair fell over his warm-brown eyes, but you could still see how kind they were as they watched the other members of the Collective almost fondly. His green hood was over his head and he fiddled with the seams of his white pants with pale hands. There was a ghost of a smile on his face and—unbeknownst to you—there was one on yours too.

He didn’t practice his magic like the others did. He seemed content in just watching, having no need in the selfish display of power the others showcased. It piqued your interest what set him apart from the others and already you could feel a growing favor blossom in your chest for the boy.

He had to be only a few years older than you were and your cheeks warmed at the thought. He reached his arms up and pushed the hood backwards off his head, seemingly oblivious to your staring as were the rest of them. The filtered daylight washed over his body and you saw him more clearly. Your eyes greedily scanned over the slopes of his face, desperate to take him all in as quickly as you could. You couldn’t lie, he was beautiful.

You trailed your eyes over to the wisps of the green in the air. It’s different knowing that magic exists in a world so bleak and actually seeing it in action. It made you wonder where the ash was here in your small village—the rot—so you could watch them smother it. You needed to see those ringlets of green curl around it tighter and tighter until it didn’t exist anymore. Until all of the ash was gone for good.

You wanted to know what it felt like to wield such magic. Your fingers itched to replicate their movements in hopes that green wisps of your own would emerge. Maybe then would your touch not bring about destruction.

A hand roughly grabs your shoulder and breaks you away from the trance you were under. “Stupid child! Can you not hear?”

Lamia’s wrinkled face startlingly comes into view and you feel the bite of her nails in the flesh of your arm through the fabric of the thin dress you wore. You stammered, unsure of what to say and what her previous words were, and blinked rapidly at her accusation.

Wind whipped across your face and too late did you feel prickling pain spread across your cheek. The inn fell deathly silent and your eyes started to water. You swallowed down the lump in your throat thickly, your watery eyes finding your mother’s. “When I ask you a question, you answer it. Do I have to repeat myself?” your mother asked you.

Slowly, you shook your head and willed yourself to find your voice. “N-no, mother.” Your voice came out in a quiet squeak, completely pathetic and weak.

“Good,” Lamia responded. “Dry these soap-covered floors before our customers slip. Then, I want you to ensure the rooms for them are ready.” 

“Yes, mother,” you said in that same weak voice.

She looked you up and down for a moment before tsking. Then, she turned on her heel and returned back to where she was behind the counter beforehand. Smoke curled from her mouth as she leisurely flipped through the sign-in book, unaware of the way time changed around her.

You swallowed thickly again, fingers tightening and untightening around the handle of the bucket you still held. Slowly, you turned just enough to look over your shoulder at lounging customers. No longer did they smile and laugh with a carefree attitude and swirls of green in the air. Instead, they stared at you with barely disguised shock. Your gaze snapped to the boy you were spellbound with earlier to find him staring too, mouth slack and sitting at the edge of the couch like he was eager to stand. His eyes met your teary ones and you broke away from the sudden connection.

Lifting the bucket closer to your chest, you rushed off into the direction of the rooms, embarrassment weighing you down and the once unshed tears now falling down your face. You ignored the sloshing sound of the water inside of it and the way the wood hit against your stomach, spilling over the metal lip and onto the floor below, creating an even bigger mess.

Sniffling, you hid yourself in the supply room. Your tears fell freely and a large sob wracked your body. You let the bucket slip from your fingers just inches from the rocky floor without a care and with a piercing thud. Stupid, you thought to yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Get it together. Stop crying.

Yet, the tears wouldn't stop. You heaved in breaths of air that refused to reach your lungs. You didn’t have time for this. If the floors weren’t dry and the rooms weren’t checked on in a timely manner then you’d get worse than a slap across the face. Harshly, you dug the palms of your hands into your cheeks and wiped away the fallen tears. You compelled yourself to take a deep breath, to let the oxygen reach your lungs and not be blocked by the false closing of your throat. 

Closing your eyes, you took in another deep breath, and another and another until your body no longer began to tremble. You straightened your back so you weren’t hunched over anymore and wiped your hands down the front of your damp dress. When you felt like you weren’t unravelling at the seams only then did you step out of the supply room to face the world.

Instead of the loud chattering coming from the Collective like from when they arrived, it was quiet and sparse whispers. When you got closer to where they were in the common room, the whispers grew.

You tried to drown their whispers out—opting to instead get to work on your mother’s request. Dropping to your knees, you took the clean towel and aggressively dried the wet section of hardwood floor beneath you, letting all your focus fall onto the repeated action.

Footsteps sounded behind you, but you didn’t hear them until an unfamiliar voice stunned you from your focus. “If I may?” the voice asked. You looked to the side, eyes meeting dirty brown boots whose eyelets caught in the bright sun. They trailed upwards to white pants and gold embroidered filigree onto a light, forest-green velvet fabric. Your hand halted its aggressive drying as your eyes ascended further to meet the boy from earlier’s handsome face. Your eyes widened to saucers and his seemed to be just as big as they looked down at you. “It will all go faster if I do this,” he continued, some of his words wobbling around the edges.

You remained silent, not trusting your voice to not come out raw and abrasive. The boy extended a hand out in front of him and with a twist of his wrist wisps of green emerged and wrapped around it. They swirled out around the two of you, lightly fogging across the floor. You turned to the wet floor in front of you and watched as it suddenly dried, the wood shining in the sunlight pouring in from the window. Your jaw slackened as your mouth fell open.

“It was a simple spell—you shouldn’t have to be on your hands and knees drying a floor,” the boy stated, the second part lower than the first so your mother didn’t hear. He outstretched his hand to you. Your mouth was still open as you turned back to stare blankly at his hand. An amused and warm smile pulled his cheeks upward and you suddenly came to the realization that you must’ve looked ridiculous.

“T-thank you…” you trailed off, voice barely above a whisper, still starstruck by the display of magic and the boy’s smile. You straightened your back before blinking a couple times. Clearing your throat, you accepted his outstretched hand and the boy helped you to your feet.

He chuckled and you felt your knees weaken more. His hand was still holding yours, the both of you forgetful as your gaze seared into each other. The smile slowly fell from his face, his lips parting with unspoken words as he gaped at you as if bewitched. Snickering to your side brought the two of you back to real life and you pulled your hands away from each other. 

“Uh,” the boy said, clenching the hand that was just holding yours and trying to form a coherent sentence. His gaze snapped briefly to the other members of the Collective before landing on you again. “U—No worries! It was nothing, really. Kai.” He stammered over his words before his eyebrows raised. “My name. It’s–I’m, uh, Kai.”

Kai outstretched his hand again before he thought better of it and swiftly yanked it away, instead rubbing the back of his neck with it. If you weren’t so disoriented you’d laugh, but you just stare at him instead, the heat slowly creeping up your neck. You then realize how much of a mess you must look and quickly wipe your cheeks to get rid of any remaining tears. “Um,” you start, “I… I’m—”

Your name slices through the air like a knife. You jump, eyes darting over to where your mother stood behind the counter, a saccharine smile pulling her lips as she looked at the two of you. It felt as if you were watching a snake rattle its tail. Looking back to Kai, you offer him the tiniest of smiles before rushing away again, leaving him standing alone.

You’re not quite sure when the obsession with magic started. Maybe it was when you saw how carefree the Collective looked wielding it, as if it was second nature. Or, maybe it was when Kai had so graciously used it to help you out so you didn’t have to spend the remainder of the morning on your hands and knees. All you did know was that it had sunk its claws inside of you, gripping fiercely at your heart and making the hole inside of it larger.

Maybe it was when you started sneaking away from, or even downright rushing to finish, your duties so you could watch them practice magic. Maybe it was the rush you got watching their hands twist and jerk in specific movements for specific outcomes, green coils emerging from the motions.

But, you think it started when you lifted your hands into the air, daring to copy them.

At first, it was nothing, and frustration built up like a brick wall inside you. Then, that frustration turned to resentment, and that resentment into anger.

The Collective were here for a week so far and you weren't sure how long you had left before they departed. Why weren’t you born with magic like they were? If you had magic, it would change everything. No longer would everything rot around you when you could smother the rot all out—bring everything that has long been dead and gone back to life. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

You flicked your fingers in the air angrily as green smoked around the member’s fingers and not yours. Something a mix between and groan and a growl emerged from your throat instead. But, you were determined—and you refused to give up.

Perfecting the twists of your wrists and quick jerks of your fingers, you exhaled steadily and focused on getting the same result the member of the Collective did—cracking open a single walnut without touching it. The walnut sat on the floor in front of you mockingly and you scowled at it before focusing again.

“Come on,” you whispered to yourself. “Come on, come on. Work, please.” With one final twist of your wrist, you heard the distinct cracking sound and a soft gasp pushing between your lips. Your face broke into a smile and it took everything in you not to cheer at the top of your lungs. You watched the slightest hints of green feather away around the lengths of your fingers, so fast the color was barely distinguishable. A smile spread across your face from ear to ear.

“Yes!” you proclaimed, taking care to keep your voice low. A pleased laugh left your mouth and happy tears filled your lash line, “Yes!”

Your view snapped back to that of the Collective in the dining hall. You listened to the way they joked with each other and made water spin into wine—getting themselves drunk and red-faced. As your stare analyzed them, you noticed that Kai wasn’t among them.

It was odd, you thought, but it reminded you of the first time you saw him and how he sat apart from the others. How different he seemed from them. Just from watching the Collective members interact, you already didn’t like them. Maybe Kai felt the same.

You haven’t talked to him since that day—haven’t really seen him around besides quick glimpses, either. A peculiar feeling stirred in your chest and you weren’t sure what it meant. You just hoped that your paths would cross again.

When you weren’t at Freywolf Inn, you were at the craft guild with your nose buried in a book. You were there so often that you were on a first name basis with the stationer, Althea, a sweet lady who distinctly had the look that reminded you of a barn owl. In the entirety of your small village, it seemed Althea was the only one who wasn’t victim to the rot. You felt safe being around her—and she always remarked how much you were like a daughter to her.

She let you freely borrow the books she received or binded and even let you hang out behind the counter while she dealt with artisans and people wealthier than you could ever imagine who came to see her from all over the world. You remember asking her one day why people came from all over to see her wares.

“Not that they’re bad,” you quickly added, leaning the open book onto your thighs as you looked up at her from your hiding spot underneath the counter. She threw you a witty smile over her shoulder from the press she was at, hair the color of cinnamon sticks falling over her shoulder. The two of you felt as if you were moving at the same speed—you barely realized the fact that streaks of white slowly became more prevalent in her hair. “I mean, this is just such a small village… Wouldn’t they go to communes or the King’s Roots where the school is?”

Althea’s voice was nothing like you’ve heard before despite her saying how she grew up in the village. It had a strange accent and the way she spoke was like silk against the bark of a tree. Althea turned from where she worked to meet your questioning look, leaning over and resting her elbows on her knees so she was just about eye level with you, “Not… quite. See, I offer words that you won’t find on a shelf at the School of Pith. Illustrations they wouldn’t dare to let one of their students witness.”

You sat up more underneath the counter, completely abandoning the still open book in your lap. Your eyes shined with curiosity and Althea laughed—a sound that resembled crackling fire. “What kind of words?” you asked her.

“Knowledge, my owlet. There’s much more out there than the green thumbs of Pith—the royals and the wealthy.” Althea spat out green thumbs like food stuck on her tongue. You knew she never liked the Collective, but to this day, she still never told you why.

Althea stood and walked over to one of the shelves that you never touched, but was always only open for certain customers who came inside the guild hooded and quiet. Her finger ran along the spines as her white brows drew together, “There is a forest in this world, buried deep within another.” Her brows lifted as she found the book she was looking for and she made her way back to the counter.

You crawled from beneath the counter, twisting to watch as she laid the thick book down onto it and opened it to the beginning pages. You gently discarded the book you were reading off to the side of the counter, your focus now on the twirling of words and stirring drawings. Althea’s fingers gently caressed the pages. Her face was distant and longing, like recounting a memory that happened centuries ago. “The Forest That Watches, it is called,” she continued. “It’s white-barked trees have black eyes drawn onto them by people from long ago and its drooping pink leaves kiss the sacred ground.”

For a moment, Althea was quiet. You waited patiently, decidedly taking in the open page until she was ready to speak again. You could tell that this forest was a sensitive topic for her and you didn’t want to pry. You looked up at her when she wrapped her arm around your shoulders. She regarded you with a fond smile, “The forest has never been found, though, and it remains watching—waiting. Its pink leaves hide what’s inside; the Well of Life.”

With her free arm, Althea flipped through the pages until it landed on the Forest and the Well. “Woah,” you muttered, leaning forward to get a better look at it. Even from the illustrations you could tell how beautiful it was, feel the magic that radiated from it all.

You knew why it hadn’t been found yet—why it never could be. That much power in the wrong hands would be detrimental. But, you couldn’t help but wonder how different your world would be if it had access to the magical waters Althea was telling you about.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Althea breathed wistfully. “We’ll meet there one day… under the pink leaves and drink from the Well.” She returned her gaze to yours. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Then the turning of the sun won’t seem so fast.”

You sighed to yourself as your eyes fell back to the pages. You leaned your head into Althea’s side and she wrapped her arm around you tighter. “That would be nice,” you say.

In the darkness of the night, you let the shadows listen to your deepest wishes. And how you wish that it was Althea who plucked you from the streets instead of Lamia.

You wander Althea’s shelf now, hands running along the spines. Your fingertips still buzz with the magic you emitted earlier and you swear you can feel the contents of the shelved books calling out to you. Stilling, your fingers halt onto a book. The pull was just too strong to deny and when you turn your head to read the spine you find that the lettering has been rubbed away by time. You hum in slight annoyance before pulling the book from the shelf.

You can feel how Althea’s eyes trail you, especially when you walk over to the counter to take your familiar spot under it. In the corner of your eye, you can see her head tilt. “You feel different. And you’re quiet—quieter than usual,” she says quizzically.

Looking up from your book, a corner of your mouth raises. “Magic, Althea…” Your face breaks out into full-on excitement. “I have it! At least… sparks of it…”

Althea’s face doesn’t change from its quizzical expression. She shifts in her seat in front of the press. “Green?” she asked you, accusatory. You're unsure whether her accusatory tone was towards you or not.

The excitement swiftly falls from your face and you sit up more under the counter. “I… Yeah…” you mutter, avoiding her stare.

“It can’t be,” Althea states matter-of-factly. Her white brows furrow, and she looks away from you. “Can’t be…” she quietly trails off, more to herself than to you. “Green is… can’t be, can’t be. Doesn’t make sense.”

“I think it was green…” you pipe up, voice falling flat towards the end when her piercing black eyes snap to yours. “I didn’t really see the color, it all happened too fast.” It was true, but in your heart you wished it was green. You just wanted Althea to stop acting all fidgety and looking at you the way she did. You held the book in your arms closer to your chest and Althea’s gaze dropped to the movement.

Althea’s body physically relaxed from the tense state it was in, and if you looked close enough, you thought you could see the ghost of a smile on her lips. She hummed, suddenly pleased, “Magic… how enchanting. Have I told you about the White Fawn? Or, the prophecy of Eternal Winter?”

Your brows knitted at the change in her demeanor, but you concluded that it was better to leave it be. You shook your head at her question. “What about faeries?” Althea asked. 

“No,” you responded, “what are they?”

Althea slid to the ground in front of you, a grin pulling her mouth and exposing her teeth. She tapped the book you desperately clutched to your chest with an ivory finger. “Why don’t you take a look?”

You giggled to yourself, letting your arms flow in the harmony of the wind. You twirled and moved your body to the tune of nature—to the sounds of the forest’s edge behind you with its rustling leaves and chattering animals. The crown of sticks and fallen leaves fell down further onto your forehead and you laughed more. You didn’t even notice the single brilliant blue butterfly that landed on it and completed your costume.

If your mother saw you right now, she’d be furious. She had sent you out here on punishment with the intention of having you clean the stables behind the inn. Instead, you were dancing The Dance of Youth and pretending to be the Faerie Queen.

You spent all day yesterday reading Althea’s book on anything magical you could get your hands on, which mainly consisted of faeries and the realm they occupied. The books conjured up tales, legends, and myths of those more than human—people with glittering or colorful skin, wings, horns shooting from their heads, and even human-like versions of some of the animals you were already familiar with. It was completely enthralling reading about it all, and feeling all the magic pour off of the pages made you even more giddy. The magic the School of Pith had was nothing compared to the magic you had read about.

In a kingdom so sunny and full of bloom, A deadly winter approaches to cause mass doom. Drowns the kingdom in layers of snow, And becomes a place where nothing grows and no one goes.

You sang and danced around in the grass, pretending that you weren’t human at all, but faerie. That you were queen and the lands stretching from the edge of the forest to the inn was your kingdom. You wished you lived in Faerie where all the other magical creatures resided. That you and Althea could live there together, happy. Maybe even Kai could join you too. You giggled more at the wonderful thought.

Rustling in the forest drew your attention and you halted your dance. You leaned forward, listening closely and peering at the way the setting sun shined through the leaves, but then laughed at how ridiculous the notion was. Of course there was rustling, it’s a forest. You turned your attention back to the doll propped up on a rock, watching you. “Don’t look at me that way,” you say, twirling once more before making your way over to it.

The doll was a sightly thing made out of straw and sticks that Althea gave to you as a child. After all these years you still had it, and you cherished it deeply—making sure to keep it hidden from Lamia so she wouldn’t toss it out. You could hear her voice now, “A girl born in the summer of the thirteenth year of the King still playing with dolls? How preposterous!”

You hummed, bending down to retrieve the doll. “What an odd thing to say… Why should I find a man to marry in order to rule? I am the Faerie Queen. This is my kingdom, I shall rule it how I see fit!”

Too lost in your own dream-like world, you don’t notice the crunching of leaves beneath boots. “Well, all Queens need a King to stand beside them,” a voice said behind you. You spun in place, clutching the doll to your chest. Kai tilted his head at you, an easy smile playing on his lips. “Don’t you think?” he concluded.

His cloak was covered in ash. He and the other members of the Collective must have just returned from defeating the ash in the area for good. The heat immediately rushed to your face and your mind raced. Kai stood mere feet from you and you were stumbling over your own thoughts on what to say. You stood up straighter, trying to appear nonchalant, “I-I suppose…”

How embarrassing it was to be caught in such childlike endeavors—by Kai of all people! You moved the doll behind your back in an attempt to hide it, yet Kai’s gaze followed the action before flicking back up to your face. Behind him, you saw the rest of the Collective ride up on horses towards the inn, snickering at the two of you. “I see Kai has finally found someone willing to lay with him!” one shouted sarcastically.

Kai’s face soured and he looked over his shoulder at them with a glare before turning back to you. Face softening, he took a step towards you. “Ignore them,” Kai says, “They think they’re funny and they’re not.”

He stripped off his velvet green cloak and gave it a good shake away from where you stood. Ash clouded off of it in front of him, making the two of you cough a little. “Sorry,” Kai coughed, letting the cloak fall onto the rock next to him. “So… The Faerie Queen, huh? What’s that? Does that have something to do with your dance?”

You looked down to your feet in even more embarrassment. “It’s… It’s nothing.” You sat down on the rock that your doll was previously perched on. “I can’t believe you saw that…” you muttered under your breath.

“It looked like fun,” Kai laughed, and you looked up to catch the way his smile lingered as he looked down at you. “You seemed really into it, didn’t even notice me coming up behind you. You jumped like a caught baby deer.”

It was your turn to laugh. “A baby deer?” you asked and Kai nodded. “I guess you could say that, but you scared me!” Kai sat down next to you. He pointed his chin upwards, his eyes on the crown of sticks and leaves on your head. “Is that your crown, Faerie Queen?”

Biting your lip, you took the crown off and placed it in your lap. You toyed with the leaves in it. “You should make me one,” Kai says. You looked up at him. He was much closer than you originally thought he was, his shoulder brushing up against yours making you nervous. This close up you could see all the details of his face—his eyelashes that occasionally rested softly on round, smiling cheeks, and the curve of his plump, pinked lips. And his warm, brown eyes that never left your face. “You know… Queens and Kings and all of that…”

You smiled, looking away from him so he wouldn’t see how flustered he made you. “Really?” you questioned, braving his stare once again. “Yeah!” Kai exclaimed. He leaned closer to you, “Only if you see me fit, though, my queen.”

Kai took your hand in his and bent over to press his lips to the back of it, his eyes flicking up to look at you between his lashes. The action set you alight and you were so sure that Kai could feel the heat radiating off of your body. “I’ll have to put you to the test,” you mutter, barely managing to get your words out. “Only the best can rule with me by my side.”

You felt the vibrations of Kai’s laugh against your skin before he sat back up, his hand still grasping yours. His face was even closer to yours now. All it took was one of you to lean a little closer and your lips would meet. “Well, you’ll find that I am the best of the best,” Kai spoke, lowly. His eyes dropped to your lips and he swayed a little. “Nobody stands a chance against me.”

“Is that so?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mhm,” Kai nodded. He closed the gap between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he used it to cup your cheek and lift your chin to kiss you deeper. You melted into his touch, your lips moving in sync with his. It was perfect, and the feeling of his soft lips on yours was like heaven.

“Why don’t you show her your magic wand!” a voice behind you and Kai yelled in your direction. The two of you broke apart, yet Kai’s hand remained on your cheek. Embarrassment crept up your neck and you could tell from Kai’s red ears that he was feeling the same way. He turned to where the voice came from, brows drawing together to form another dirty glare.

The rustling in the woods was more prevalent now and both you and Kai’s head snapped to the edge of the forest. Before your ears could even pick up on the growling, a large wolf jumped out from between the trees. Both you and Kai raced to your feet and he held a hand out to guide you behind him. You hugged your doll to your chest in fear. Besides his body being tense, Kai remained relatively calm.

The wolf growled and snapped at the two of you, its sharp teeth piercing the air as spit ran down the corners of its jaw. “Awe, he can’t even handle a single wolf… the Ash is going to smoke him out!” Members of the Collective laughed behind you, but Kai paid them no mind. He guided you slowly backwards and away from the edge of the forest.

Kai quickly glanced back at you and the way you trembled, terrified. “It must be hungry,” he said, focusing back on the wolf. Green swirls of magic wrapped around the two of you. “It probably smells the meat from the nearby butcher’s.”

“It wouldn’t kill us, right?” you asked with a shaky voice, already knowing how foolish the question was before finishing it. Kai looked over his shoulder at you again, his face the most serious you’ve seen it, “Make something scared and it’ll do just about anything to get rid of the feeling.”

Just as Kai turned his head back towards the wolf, it pounced at the two of you. Behind it, more wolves prowled out of the woods, snarling. You barely registered that the harrowing scream that filled your ears was your own before you were pushed to the ground.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion for once in your entire life. The members of the Collective who were snickering and poking fun at you and Kai jumped into action, spirals of green emerging from their fingertips. More of them piled out from the inn, along with Lamia. You don’t realize that a hand is grabbing your arm and lifting you to your feet before you’re being pushed out of the crossfire.

All you see is green. At least, at first.

Then, splatters of red cover your vision. The screams and cracking of bones fill your ears and bodies fly through the air. Hot tears run down your cheeks and you close your eyes. Then, there is complete and utter silence.

The silence lasts for a moment before all sound comes rushing back to you so fast it felt like your ears were bleeding. There was screaming and crying and more cracking of bones set into place. You opened your eyes to see that the once green pasture you danced in was covered in red—red so dark it was almost black, and disfigured bodies and torn limbs were everywhere.

You stood up from the mud, eyes scanning through the green in the air in search of Kai. When you found him, tending to one of his members whose leg was missing, you breathed a sigh of relief. He was covered in blood and viscera, but it looked like he was unharmed. Barely taking a step in his direction, nails dug into your arm, bringing about a sharp sting that you were all too familiar with.

Body swinging in the opposite direction of Kai, you came face to face with your mother. Her hand reached up to roughly grab your chin. “What have you done?!” She screamed at you.

You glanced around you, never hearing her this angry before. More tears slid out of your eyes and to the dirt below and you tried to talk around the lump in your throat. You took in the destruction all around you, at the dead wolves that were now being carried towards the butcher who stood a couple feet from you. His voice caught in the air, “...a lamb, yeah.” You looked at how many lives the Collective lost in a sheer matter of minutes—and how it was all your fault. “It… I—” you started.

“You brainless child!” Your mother’s hand striked you so hard across the face that you fell back down to the mud at your feet. “Do you know how bad this is for business? Members of the Collective are dead on my soil!” You held your searing cheek with the hand that wasn’t still clutching onto your straw doll as you looked up at your mother with tearful eyes.

“I… I didn’t m—”

“Shut up. Go. I never want to see your vile face again!” Lamia screamed, her wrinkled face turning as red as the sunset behind her. She pointed a shaky finger away from the inn. You stood up on weak legs, your knees shaking. “But—but, Mom—” you cried.

“Go!”

You gave her one last pleading look before taking off, stumbling over your own feet. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t need sight for the place you were running to. You could find Althea in the dark, bound and soundless, if you had to.

You pushed open the doors of the guild and fell to the floor just in front of the counter, startling Althea and the customer she was engaging with. Your chest heaved and your tears formed a puddled at your scraped and dirty knees. “S-She… They’re all…” Your whole body shook and you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

Althea rushed to you, taking you into her arms and completely abandoning her customer. You caught a glimpse of them from Althea’s chest and didn’t know what you saw… Scaly skin that caught the light before a clawed hand pulled the hood further over their face, maybe? Althea shushed you and rubbed comforting circles into your back. “It’s okay, my owlet, it’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

Love is a very wretched thing. It lets in the rot and the maggots and the ash. But, you still couldn’t help scraping off the corruption and placing it gently in your heart anyway. You couldn’t let go of the thought that maybe it could be beautiful, that it could be worth the cracked skin.

Instead of your usual hiding spot under the counter next to where Althea worked, you were hidden away between shelves at the back of the guild, alone. A book sat open in your lap, but your mind was too distracted to read any of the words in it. You heard the soft pattering of feet along the hardwood and turned to the sound.

Kai stood before you, completely distraught and still covered in blood from the wolf attack.

You waited for him to speak, but he said nothing. You moved the open book in your lap to the side as you sat up. Your lips parted as you thought of something to say. “T-Thank you,” you said finally. “You saved my life.”

Kai’s eyes weren’t the warm brown that they were earlier. Something shifts in them and you swallow thickly. They were cold, lifeless. Kai just nodded and slumped down to the floor next to you. An awkward silence filled the air and you didn’t know what to say to resolve it.

“How did you find me?” you asked in a meek voice. Kai’s eyes shifted over to you from where they looked out the window to the dark sky. “I saw you run here,” he says plainly. “Followed you.”

Silence penetrates the air before he speaks again. “They kicked me out,” Kai says, his lifeless eyes still boring into you. “They kicked me out of the School of Pith.”

Your mouth falls open in shock and you rush to apologize, saying how it was all your fault, but Kai just shakes his head and looks away from you. He’s still in his Collective uniform, but now the light, forest-green of his velvet cloak seems dull and dark. It doesn’t help that it’s now splattered with blood. “I guess it was my last chance.”

There’s no inflection in his voice, nothing to show whether the result makes him sad or angry or even annoyed. His face is expressionless. The only hint to his inner turmoil is the way his fingers pull harshly at the seams of his dirty white pants. The tips of them are reddened, like he’s been at it for a while now.

Kai turned back to you and reached a hand up to gently rub his thumb along your bruised cheek. His gaze then dipped to the book on the floor. “What are you reading?”

You hand the book to him, the page opened onto the legend of the White Fawn that Althea told you about. Kai hummed, “You don’t really believe in all that stuff, do you? This myth?”

“You don’t?” you asked incredulously. “You have magic, but don’t believe in a white deer that brings about luck and fortune?”

For the first time that night, you manage to get Kai to chuckle. “I suppose you’re right…” he trailed. “I might not be the firmest believer in myths and legends, but I do know a lot about them. We learned about them at the school—more things than you’ll read about in any book.”

Kai glances at you and catches the way your eyes light up. A smile pulls at the corner of his lips. The light still isn't back in his eyes—and his smile doesn't reach them either—but, it’s a start. You look at him as if he just hung all the stars in the pitch black sky.

“You want me to teach you?” Kai asks, and you desperately nod your head.

‎ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏͏ 𐦍 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏NEXT ⤇

[ kipo’s note . . . ] wow… a lot happened… you see why it had to be almost 8k words now?? lmaoo i had to set everything up! but tell me how you feel about it all!! what do you think about the faerie realm, or the myths of the forest that watches and the well of life? the white fawn and the prophecy of eternal winter??? lemme know all your thoughts, don’t be shy!!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @usuallyunlikelyfox @blossommi @tinycatharsis

© jjunbug - all rights reserved. do not repost on any social media or sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[teenidlegirl]

꣖　 BEAUTY OF THIS MESS 　꣓　 ᤢ♥︎　 CHAPTER　.　13 　!

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

♡ྀི⠀⠀·⠀⠀summary⠀⠀ ੭⠀⠀with miguel’s disappearance and negligence, you’re left alone to deal with this gut-wrenching mess and your perception of him is gradually forever changed.

♡ྀི⠀⠀·⠀⠀content⠀⠀ ੭⠀⠀angst, pregnancy symptoms, mentions of throwing up (emetophobia warning), emotional distress, swearing, mentions of abortions, ultrasounds, no miguel yet

꣖　　previous　　⋅ ꪆৎ ⋅　　masterlist　　⋅ ꪆৎ ⋅　　next　　꣓

he just left…

miguel just left and never came back.

he walked out that door with a word and you felt like your whole world collapsed. he just left you, the man that you love and you thought who loved you back, left you alone to deal with this mess.

your heart into a million pieces.

rose-colored glass shattered and left on the floor, impossible to glue them back together. the pain was so severe that you actually felt your heart broken. so painfully because you truly loved the man.

the small four walls of your home concealed all of your sobs that night. they witness the tears, wails, swearing, all sounds of pain and heartbreak. you broke your personal record of crying that night. the painful was unbearable that you couldn’t sleep.

you weren’t quiet, it’s clear that the entire floor heard you that night yet none cared. not that you wanted neighbors banging on your door, asking you if you’re okay or been murdered or telling you to shut up. eventually the crying died down but there were sniffles here and there, silent tears down your face.

you knew miguel heard and he didn’t bother to run back and comfort you like you hoped. his strong arms wrapped around your trembling figure and holding you protectively as you sob your heart out. one hand rubbing your back and whispering soft words of comfort in your ear.

no, instead you were all alone. the cold air of the apartment hitting your skin, causing goosebumps to form which left an uncomfortable feeling. your own arms hugging yourself sheepishly. no whispers of comfort, only the sobs and whines from your lips.

miguel wasn’t there for you.

instead he was next door, listening to your painful sobs while doing whatever the fuck he was doing. it pissed you off so much, you wanted to scream.

a pathetic part of you believed miguel would come back. he needed some time to think about this. an unexpected pregnancy isn’t easy to process. everyone reacts differently and miguel wasn’t in the wrong. he was shocked and needed a moment.

except it was more than just a moment.

his reaction was reasonable but you didn’t expect him to walk out like that and abandoned you. miguel never returned, didn’t call or text you afterwards. as if he disappeared without a trace.

ever since that night, you never saw him again.

no matter what you do, miguel never answers. the amount of text messages you sent are proof. now matter how many texts, no answer back. not even left on read, they were never checked.

bebé 🌷: miguel, please answer me

bebé 🌷: i need you

bebé 🌷: i know you’re upset and have every right to be mad but please come back or answer me, i can’t do this alone please

bebé 🌷: PLEASE COME BACK I NEED YOU I MISS YOU PLEASE MIGUEL

you even try calling him.

“the number you’re trying to reach is unavailable, please leave a message after the—”

you threw your phone across the bed in frustration as tears begin streaming down your face. burying your teary face in your palms as you cry once again because your boyfriend isn’t answering you.

why won’t he answer?

why won’t he pick up his damn phone?

why did he never come back?

is he truly mad at you to the point that he disappeared and never answered you back?

since you couldn’t try yourself, you had to ask someone else. the only other person you know who has contact with miguel is peter. unfortunately, he didn’t have any answers for you either.

“he isn’t answering at all?”

“no, peter!” you say frustratingly, almost on the verge of crying. “he never answered my texts or calls. my texts aren’t even left on read!”

“shit…” you hear him curse under his breath. “okay… you said he’s not home, right?” you tell him yes. “do you have any idea of where he might’ve gone? has he ever mentioned a place or spot he would go?”

you shake your head, even if he can’t see. “no, he never did.” miguel truly never did mentioned anything but he must’ve have a spot now.

peter sighs heavily through the phones. “that son of a bitch, i’m gonna kill him.”

tears prickle in your eyes, lips trembling. “i’m so scared, peter. i’m scared because i’m alone and i don’t know where miguel is.”

“i know, i know and i’m so sorry. i promise mj and i will come over as soon as we both get off work. i promise i’ll find miguel and kill him.”

a soft sob escapes your lips. “d-don’t, the traffic will be terrible, you know that.”

peter said your name in a pleading manner. “please, it’s okay. you’re our friend and family, we’re not leaving you alone. you know mj won’t like that.”

you let out a small chuckle, knowing he’s telling the truth because mj would never leave anyone behind. true friends always support each other.

unlike miguel, your supposed lover.

“thank you, peter…”

“of course, we’ll be there soon.”

eventually, peter and mj arrive at your place with remorseful looks. embracing your tightly, providing you the comfort that you lacked from your boyfriend. you and mj sit on the couch, her hand holding yours as comfort while peter makes tea. mj would hand you tissues from box and have a hand on your back rubbing as a method of comfort.

you tell them everything. you watch multiple emotions flash across their faces. remorse, sympathy, disbelief, anger. if looks could kill, someone would be six feet under. that someone would be miguel. oh they both had the look of murder on their faces. if they were hired assassins, they would definitely hunt down miguel.

“when’s your doctor’s appointment?” mj changed the subject, containing her anger.

“monday, next week.”

“do you want one of us to come with you, as support so you wouldn’t be by yourself?”

you shake your head. “no, i wanna do this myself. i appreciate it though, thank you.”

“are you sure? i can call out.” mj suggests.

“no really it’s okay, mj.” you offer her a small smile. “i promise to text you and the girls right after.”

the redhead nods. “alright but know that we’re here for you, all of us.” you know she referring to herself, peter, anne, eddie, lyla, and harry. besides her and peter, the rest don’t know yet you plan to eventually.

you have a support group.

but you just wish you had support from a specific person, the person you thought who would help you. just like when he said he would help or fix anything for you. but suppose that was a lie.

perhaps it was all a lie.

the next thing you know it, it’s your OB-GYN appointment and you’ve never been so anxious. on usual visits they’re fine but this was a different case. a case concerning your well-being and possibly another. the thought caused you to shiver. on the drive there, your heart rate skyrocketed. you had to bite back the emotions of driving to the clinic by yourself without miguel, who still hasn’t answered. before you left the apartment, you sent him one last text and call telling him you’d be at the clinic. even though you knew he wouldn’t respond, it still hurt. still holding on the last bits of hope he would respond. might be a little pathetic at this point.

you arrive at the clinic 15 minutes early. your nerves skyrocket once again as you enter the building, the sliding glass doors open with a soft whoosh! and close behind you. not even the friendly smile the receptionist, an elderly lady, gives you eases your nerves but you flash her a fake one to conceal it. once you give your name, she hands over a clipboard with paperwork and kindly tells you to take a seat. thanking her with a small smile, you take a seat in the far corner of the room. your eyes scan over the paper and begin silently filling it out. the usual information such as any medical conditions, any prescribed medications, any past medical procedures, previous pregnancies. after filling out the papers, you hand the clipboard back to the receptionist and sit back down.

you glance around at the other visitors in the room. some silently filling out paperwork, some scrolling through their phones, some staring off into space. but what kills you are the couples are the room. some conversing with each other. one couple who the woman appears to be 8-9 months and her partner delicately rubbing her large baby bump. they seem to be very happy, smiling at each other.

the sight is a big stab to your already fragile heart. pathetically envisioning miguel here with you. an arm wrapped around your shoulders and a hand holding yours as he whispers gentle words of comfort to you. telling you that it’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay, and he will always be by your side.

but he’s not here and you’re alone.

he is god knows where and you’re attending your OB-GYN appointment alone, dealing with this situation without his love and support.

never have you felt utterly alone, abandoned.

the very same man who declared his love to you abandoned you when you needed him the most. nowhere in sight and completely off the radar, left you alone to deal with this mess. the same man who makes you cry as your feel tears forming-

you snap out of those depressive thoughts when your name is called. your eyes land on a nurse standing by the door waiting patiently for you to follow. your anxiety increases as you rise up from your seat and proceed to follow the nurse, not even her friendly smile could help. after leading you to your supposedly OB’s office, the nurse kindly tells you she will be here with you very soon before flashing one last smile and closing the door.

glancing around the small room, your anxiety increases as reality kicks in. here you are, in the office of your OB-GYN about to discuss and examine your pregnancy. an unexpected pregnancy that was caused by your irresponsibility. due to the pregnancy and your irresponsibility, miguel left you to deal with this alone. no love and support, only loneliness.

the sound of the door opening startled you a little, causing you to snap out of those sad thoughts. turning around, you finally meet your OB-GYN. a relatively tall woman with blonde shirt hair. a pair of glasses settled over her crystal blue eyes. she appears to be maybe 10 years older than you.

“hello,” the woman says your name with a friendly smile and hand to shake. “i’m dr. chelsea, your OB.”

you smile in return, gently shaking her hand before dr. chelsea offers you to take a seat near her desk. you do so, placing your purse in your lap. she takes her own and reads over the paperwork about you.

“alright, i understand correctly this is your first appointment?” you nod, little anxious to answer which she ultimately understands. “do you have any idea how many weeks you could be?”

you shake your head, pondering. “maybe 4 weeks but i’m still not really sure.”

“that’s okay, we can use a pregnancy wheel to calculate an estimated due date.”

“w-wait!” you panic a little at the mention of a due date. “i’m not sure if i want to keep it or not.”

dr. chelsea gives you a reassuring look. “i understand but we still need to at least estimate how many weeks since the earliest for termination is 4 weeks. if you’re beyond that then you still have the option.”

you can only nod and exhale deeply, the nerves causing your voice to not work properly.

after much discussion, turns out you’re 5 weeks pregnant. the tears wanted to burst out but you hold them back, not wanting to break down in public.

“may i ask your symptoms?”

“the usual, i guess.” you shrug. “throwing up, achy boobs, feeling like shit in general.”

the woman nods before taking off her glasses with a heavy sigh, looking at you with seriousness. “now, i understand your uncertainty about whether to keep it or not. based on the given data, you still have the option for termination. i also understand this is a complicated decision and i don’t want to sugarcoat it. may i remind you that no matter which decision you make, you’re making it for yourself and what’s best for you. you are not pressured to give an answer now, like i said it’s complicated.”

her words bring somewhat a sense of comfort and reassurance. you’re well aware that an abortion is a complex process which requires lots of thinking and courage. an abortion means you can’t be sorry for yourself and live with that decision. it’s indeed a complicated process like dr. chelsea said.

the question you have to ask yourself is: can you put up with this kind of decision?

she takes your silence to continue. “like i mentioned before, this is about you and your well-being. my job isn’t only to ask many questions and conduct examinations, i’m here to help you.” you can hear the sincerity in her tone. “when you’re ready, i’m here.”

you avert from her gaze, processing her words. in full honesty, you deeply appreciate her reassuring words. it’s true you don’t have a definite answer right now and will certainly need time to think. you’re still deeply conflicted about this situation, aren’t sure if you’re ready for a baby, unsure if you have the means to have one, if you are able to provide for another life. abortion still lingers in a big portion in your mind, however, deep down a small percentage of curiosity is buried in the back of your fragile mind.

do you want to see it?

do you want to do an ultrasound?

your mind jumps back and forth on the subject, like playing ping pong. the ball bouncing back and forth on the table, landing on one side then the other in a never-ending manner. unsure when it will stop.

but the small percentage of curiosity was gradually growing and it can’t stop. with a very deep breath, you decide to make one decision. not the ultimate decision but just a very small one.

“i think… i would like to see it…”

dr. chelsea offers a small smile. “alright.”

rising from the chair, dr. chelsea kindly guides you to the examination chair. you prepare yourself on it as she takes a dear beside you and sets up the monitor. your anxiety increases once again as reality hits you like a baseball bat. here you are about to do an ultrasound on the entity slowly developing inside you. an entity you’re still unsure of.

“it’s okay to be scared.” dr. chelsea flashed a reassuring smile, motioning you to lift your shirt. “i do have to warn you this will be cold.”

lifting your shirt just displaying your stomach, a gasp pass through your lips as the cool gel touches your skin. damn, she wasn’t lying. the cool sensation causes goosebumps over your skin. closing your eyes, anxiety and anticipation flows through your veins. holy shit, this was actually happening.

you’re about to get the first glimpse of your baby.

a baby that will be a combination of you and miguel.

your heart aches immensely at the thought of him. a reminder of his absence. oh how you wish he was here to witness and experience this moment with you. wishing he was there sitting the chair next to you on the opposite side that’s meant for the fathers. his big, calloused hand holding your smaller one as you await the first glimpse of your child.

but miguel isn’t here, no body beside you and no hand holding yours. just pure emptiness.

you blink away the sad thoughts once again and look over at the monitor. your eyes widen and lips agape in surprise. on the screen, there’s a tiny blurry blob.

oh my god… there it is.

the entity developing inside you.

a baby, your baby.

that tiny blob is supposedly the very entity growing in your body. that very entity that will eventually be a replica of you and miguel combined. it’s so… weird to actually see it, there moving and growing. like it’s just so… oddly fascinating to observe. part of you feels weirded out that an actual thing is growing inside you and you actually see it now. the other part of you is undeniably fascinating to see it.

now this is even more conflicting.

dr. chelsea notices your internal conflict and hesitantly asks if you wish to have pictures. you ponder for a good minute, wondering if you really want to have an ultrasound picture of the baby you’re still unsure about having. but yet again, your curiosity got the best of you. you agree to just have one, fiddling with your hands as she prints it. after she offers you wipes to clean off the gel from your belly and pull down your shirt, she hands you the picture.

your breath hitches at the photo, a tiny blob. this is just keeping getting real and real each day. breathing deeply, you hug the photograph to your chest and close your eyes for a moment. the conflict grows stronger, even more with this photo.

hopping off the examination table and grabbing your purse, you shove the photograph inside. just as your preparing to leave, dr. chelsea asks one more thing.

“this last question will be personal and you have every right to reject.” your furrowed brows were a sign to continue. “is the father involved?“

you ponder for what feels like forever. no word from miguel since the last time you saw him, leaving your apartment that unfortunate night. all the missed calls and texts were telling you he was avoiding you. he abandoned you and you never felt the same since.

“he’s not in the picture.”

not a trace of adoration in your tone expect dullness. dr. chelsea gives you a sympathetic look with a nod. she tells you that your next appointment will be in two weeks as a check up. you bid each other farewell before exiting the room and the clinic.

you exit that building feeling different in contrast when you first arrived. hollowed, not because of the baby but because of miguel’s absence and negligence. you felt scared shitless entering the clinic, worrying for your well-being and heavily conflicted about this baby and how it affects your life. without his support, you feel hollowed. never had you felt so abandoned and lonely today.

while you were preparing to leave the office, you checked your messages and still never received an answer from miguel, not that you were expecting yet still thought on the possibility.

he doesn’t care at all.

the pipeline about him is bizarre. from loving him with all your heart to feeling abandoned and hollow. as if the love you had vanished. tossed away into the trash and left completely abandoned.

perhaps miguel wasn’t the caring man you perceived him to be. it was all just a show, a fantasy. you really believed he was different, this love was different.

but you were proven wrong again.

you promised mj and the girls to text them after your appointment. pregnancy cravings got the best of you and force you to stop by the grocery store. that damn pickles and peanut butter craving is kicking your ass. suppose the baby really digs it, oddly thinking about it. after finding your two weird cravings, you walk down the ice cream aisle. not only pickles and peanut butter but also ice cream slowly kicking in there.

as your eyes wander over each flavor, you feel someone bumping into you. a frown settles on your face, prepared to tell off the idiot who bumped into you, only to realize it’s a little boy. dressed in an oversized basketball jersey with a black hoodie underneath and basketball shorts.

“oops! sorry, ma’am.” the kid meekly said.

“miles!” a feminine voice calls out. looking forward, you see a woman with brown hair in a red shirt and jeans approaching with a concern look. “ay dios, i’m so sorry. he ran off and wasn’t looking where he was going.” she gives you an apologetic look.

you wave it off, kindly smiling. “it’s okay, now worries. he apologized so don’t worry.”

“still, i’m sorry. kids and ice cream, right?”

that makes you silent for a moment. the topic of kids is still uncomfortable considering your situation. but you play it off with a chuckle and nod.

“can’t blame them, it’s delicious.”

the woman’s eyes land on the items in your hands. her brows furrowed just the slightest as if she recognizes that specific combination of food.

“miles, go pick out your favorite ice cream but don’t run off. come straight back to me, ¿entiendes?” the woman crouches down to her son’s level.

the little boy nods, smiling. “yes, mamá.”

“okay go, mijo.” she stands back up straight as her son runs off down the aisle in search for his favorite ice cream. she looks back at you. “the last thing i want is to pry and forgive me for asking such a question. is that your favorite craving?”

you didn’t realize how obvious it is carrying pickles and peanut butter. you can’t blame her though, it’s a common pregnancy craving.

“yeah, the ironic thing is that i absolutely hate pickles.” you let out a soft chuckle.

the woman chuckled as well. “the things pregnancy does to you, crave things you hate.”

“was this one of your cravings?” you gesture at the pickles and peanut butter in your hands.

“oh yeah, it was the best thing ever. could never fight against, the craving always win.”

“ain’t that the truth.” you two share a laugh.

you briefly introduce yourselves. the woman is named rio, her son miles is 8 years old.

“if you don’t mind me asking, how far along are you?”

you go quiet for a moment, realizing this is the first time someone has asked about your pregnancy, aside your OB. damn, this is getting real too fast.

“i’m uh- 5 weeks.”

“you doing okay? besides the cravings. i know how hard the first trimester is.”

“oh uh- it’s definitely a pain, the morning sickness and all. but today isn’t that awful…” your voice trails off at the end, which rio notices.

her brows furrowed. “you sure you’re okay, honey?”

“yeah, yeah. just the hormones and stuff.”

call yourself crazy but you’re sure this woman can tell your lying by that slight disbelief look on her face. well, it seems more concerning than disbelief.

“i understand pregnancy or a baby in general isn’t easy. i also understand it’s weird to be discussing something personal with a stranger.” she chuckled softly. “but telling you from experience, you’re gonna be okay.” rio gives you a sympathetic look.

for some reason, her words bring you a sense of comfort. knowing she’s a mom herself and obviously experienced the process of pregnancy, her words affect you more than others.

“thank you.” you say softly, gently smiling.

she mirrors your smile. “of course.”

after your mini conversation and miles finally returning with his favorite ice cream, you bid the two goodbye. you can’t help but observe them as they walk away. holding hands, signifying the bond between a mother and her son. observing them makes you envision yourself with your child. holding hands as you shop around, bonding together.

the thought makes your heart swell. for the first time, you envision a moment with your potential future child. the very same one growing in your belly. the one you finally got a glimpse of early today.

you’re more conflicted about this baby.

but you couldn’t lie the thought was very… heartwarming, to say the least.

꣖　𝓣ags. ♡ྀིྀི　꣓⠀⠀@reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

©⠀TEENIDLEGIRL⠀♡⠀don’t plagiarize or repost my work

[haechanhues]

chapter forty seven : i need you

*written*

word count : 1.3k

warnings : SMUT (minors and all that). feels a bit spit kink esque at one point. Haechan gets a little….mean at one point. But nothing too much. Not proofread.

Haechan’s hands slide to the back of your neck, the sound of your lips separating leaving your legs fidgety and your fingers to tangle within the fabric of his shirt, desperate to have his fingers on your throat again. But instead the cup the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together. 

He smiles as you chase after his lips, lips quaking to make way for white teeth and a smile that has you absolutely weak. 

“So pretty” He murmurs in between your shared space, lips swollen and on the hunt for revenge, vindictive in its journey to make your own swell like his and your pussy lips to get all puffy and needy. 

You lick your lips, eyes heavy lidded and charged with a lust that burns and will burn until it’s satiated. He leans forward, his bottom lip meeting your own before taking your lips for his in a hungry kiss that’s so messy but has your toes curling. 

Your arms wrap around his neck for support as the kiss deepens and becomes more passionate, “I need you.” 

And blame it on competitiveness but he takes that statement to heart. He bunches the clothing at your waist, your thigh naturally finding its perch on his waist, letting you feel everything pressed up against you. The way he gradually hardens as he kisses down your neck, the waft of vanilla and a touch of wood making his head go all fuzzy. 

“Let’s go home-” 

“No,” It comes out like a little whine, kissing him harder to distract him, bruising his lips with ferocity.

“Not out here, baby,” Haechan asserts, “Not when anyone can just see you.” 

“But I need you now,” You plead, eyes so big they appear teary in the moonlight, “I’ll keep quiet.” 

He shakes his head, biting his lip with firm denial, “I want to hear you.” 

“But-” 

“No,” He mouths at the crook of your neck, “I’m not messing around, I’ve got plans for you and I’ll be hearing them.” 

Haechan experimentally thrusts against you, a little rut that causes an explosion of pleasure behind your eyes, a whimper passing through your lips. 

“See? You can’t keep quiet.” 

“In your ear then,” You offer, looping your arms around his neck, squirming against him in a way that sends heat straight to your core and his hands to form into fists. He listens as you start to heave for breath, small moans like music to his ears. 

It’s a pied piper. 

He squeezes at the skin of your knee, hiking it higher over his torso and letting your moans and whines increase in frequency and feeling. He must be weak, because the will he so previously held staunch against his chest, crumbled at the sounds you were making. 

A weak weak man. 

“Get in the car,” He murmurs against your lips, and like you’re all of a sudden made to be obedient to him, you rush inside leaving him at a crossroads. With his thumb, he brushes along the underside of his lip, letting the jealousy consume him for a second, all before he follows after you into the backseat of the car. 

His breath is swallowed by the soft grip of your hand pressed right up on his throat, your mouth slotting over his, all before you fall backwards until he’s pressed right up against you, hardening length teasing you over your clothes. 

It’s a flurry of seconds, his shirt comes off and yours does too. 

He’s still for a moment, eyeing the way you’re dressed - the bodysuit you were wearing revealed to be a little more spicier upon further inspection. Red fabric crossed over each other over the skin of your stomach.  

It’s all too much.

“And you wanted me to fuck you outside,” He hisses against your lips, “Are you dreaming?” 

But he doesn’t wait for your answer because he places his palm over the top of the thin silk like fabric adorning the skin of your mound shaped like Pirate’s treasure. You exhale a little breathy moan, the sensation new as he collects your arousal with his fingers. 

His hand slaps onto the car door, fingernails creating crescents in his skin as the demon inside of him is corrupted by the feeling of your wet pussy and the way you clench underneath the fabric desperate for him. Calling for him. 

And it’s worse when his fingers plunge into the gummy walls of your pussy, the way you suck him in doing nothing to quiet the man who wants to fuck you until the early hours of the morning and regret the way people will stare into the foggy car and take a peek of how pretty you are when you come. 

But he can’t do much else. 

Because you hook the bodysuit to the side with your fingers, expression impatient as you squirm against his lower body, exposing your desperation on his jeans. 

“Fuck,” He curses, unzipping at his jeans and removing himself from their hold and you almost drool at the sight. Roughly, he swipes at your pussy and with a meanness he didn’t think he would act on, he slaps the same hand over your mouth, “Spit.” 

You inhale at his hardened expression, and his unwillingness to remove his hand covering your mouth, the slight taste of yourself on his digits. All before you spit. 

His eyebrows soften a smidge, removing his hand from its hold and letting remnants of your spit drip down your chin and he smirks at your display of patheticness. All before he covers his shaft with your spit and your arousal, tip wet and heavy as he lines up against your entrance. 

You feel the stretch with your eyes closed - because it’s just too good that your eyes have rolled back and you can’t see anything with this torrential amount of pleasure running through your veins. 

You whine as he starts to thrust into you, the actions making you see stars on the roof of the car. He pushes through his pleasure harder, desperate to hear what you’re like when you’re wanton. 

And it’s hard to do anything but feel when he feels a little blinded by how pretty you fucking are. 

Your hands bunch into his skin, a little loosely, his warm skin painted by your clammy hands a little harder to grasp onto then his shirt. You claw into his back, long angry red streaks starting to decorate his spine in a way that makes him smug. Kisses pressed against his front with a messy display of admiration and gratitude. Your lips loose and then tight, teeth biting into his skin as he pistons into you. 

Your moans become cantonic, the reach of decibel enough for your own Salem witch trial punishment. And he loves it. Because it’s all his. The moans and groans as he changes angles and feels your clit swell against the skin of his pelvis. 

He kisses everywhere against you, wanting to give back - a contrast of his soft kisses to the hard thrusts he blesses your pussy with. Driving you completely to orgasm and he feels the way you tighten against him, the way you squeeze him into you - your legs around his waist, your hands blocking him from retreat, your hips moving in a frenzy against him. 

And then - he feels it. The telltale tightening of your pussy all before you let go and he feels warm - driven by need to finish. 

He groans, feeling his orgasm reach and spill into you and he’s a little corrupted because he watches the way you wince as he removes himself from your insides - loving the way his white cum follows the tip of his cock, all before dripping out of you. 

And his eyes sparkle because when you come to, he’s out of his mind in love with you. And you, you’re really not all that far from it. 

And to show you’re in the same boat, you immediately thread your fingers together, a statement that squirms its way into his heart, “Don’t go anywhere.” 

I need you. 

Usually you'd leave it unspoken - but you find yourself saying it. And it doesn't scare you as much as you thought it would.

"I need you"

So you repeat it.

“I need you.” 

Again and again.

"I'll always need you."

AND NOW, US

your best friend's best friend offers his services as you keep complaining about your lack of… sexual gratification.

chapter forty seven : i need you

masterlist | prev | next

taglist : @harunade @yukisroom97 @haesluvr @choizzn @lovetyong @kukkurookkoo @t-102 @jeonghansshitester @haechansssun @miniature-tragedy @nctdreamchaser @tenjyucat @chan-yeoldelling @ant-onie @toroufriteh @queenrachelpink @tywritesstuff @meowtella @gomdoleemyson @karmasbestie @berries-n-blues @sundamariis @minkyuncutie @kodasity @bbambidorii @sibwol @jae-n0 @99outros @haechskiss @tynlvr

[shamrockqueen]

Father figure : Chapter 4

Pairing : Best Friend’s Dad Bucky (James/Mr. Barnes) x Reader

Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, Angst, adult teenager (18 and green), taboo desires

Word count : 2294

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Masterlist

She called constantly, and you ignored her. Rebecca’s picture flashed across your phone screen throughout the day, like a storm siren alerting the whole house of impending danger. It continued to ring through your ears even when the small brick was silent, having finally been switched off. A development that hadn’t lasted very long. 

Eventually, the guilt of shutting Becky out made you crack. An already uneven and weak foundation crumbled from under your feet as you switched the phone back on, letting that little white half apple glow over the screen, and taking the next call that came through. 

After all, she was the innocent party in this increasingly strange dynamic. 

“Hello?” Your voice was low, rasped with disuse, and choked with your previously heavily shed tears. 

“Oh, my God!! Why the hell weren’t you answering your phone?!” 

Becky’s voice was sharp and louder than you’d expected, but it didn’t carry the anger you’d readied yourself to hear. It sounded so scared. 

“I needed some time to myself!” You parroted her tone unintentionally. 

“W-was it something I did or-or said? What happened?” 

You mulled over what to say, how to say it, but instead you stayed silent for a few minutes too long before finally blubbering another half-truth. 

“It wasn’t anything like that… I’ve just been feeling overwhelmed lately.” 

She didn’t answer, not right away at least. For those few minutes everything was silent, leaving dead air and the thrumming of your quickened pulse pounding in your ear as the only sound left.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me about it?” she finally said. Her voice was soft, sad, and dejected. 

It made your heart sink, and you replied with, “I’m sorry.” 

“Can we talk? In person...please.” 

“I….I don’t know about that right now.” 

“You aren’t the only one who feels overwhelmed. But, you are the only person I have to talk to.” 

Your eyes brimmed with more traitorous tears, stinging at the corners before being blinked away. 

“I should be able to visit for a little bit.” You answer weakly. 

“5-ish?” Her voice was still uncharacteristically meek, but the words tumbled from the speaker quickly. 

You sighed, now fully aware how easily you’ve been pushed from your ledge and right back into the trouble you ran away from. 

“Yes, I can be over at 5.” You said flatly, nearly melancholic, after having lost your grip on the situation.

It was already 4, which gave you both an hour to clean the evidence of emotion off each of your teary faces. Something similar you both could feel but left unseen by the other. 

The call lingered for a few seconds longer, half-baked plans still being played with before finally being left to rise on their own once the call ended. 

You thank your lucky stars that your mom was at work. The deepening scowl on her face at the insistent ringing only made everything worse. It was difficult trying to keep discipline in the house while not teetering on a need to allow you to keep your longtime and only friend. 

She’d lamented in the past your shy demeanor, wishing you’d been just a little more outgoing so as to not have been entangled in Rebecca’s unending emotional turmoil. You never judged Becky as your mother did, but as you’d grown older and even now, you knew that some things she did weren't right, but you could never bring yourself to sever ties with someone close enough to be the sibling you’d never had. 

An ongoing battle with no one winning in the end. 

For now, your journey through the house, purse packed and dirty sneakers slipped over cotton socks, was uninterrupted all the way out the front door before locking it with a quick click. 

You hopped onto your bike and soon picked up pace down the suburban road, the damp autumn air tickling your skin as you rode away. You tried to will each anxious thought into your already twisted stomach as you sped down a curve in the street. 

Finally, the house came into view, Mr. Barnes’ truck parked in its driveway. You stopped your tire with a wet squelch over rainy asphalt so as not to let your bike ram you into the back of the truck bed. 

You stood there, half balanced on one foot with your leg slung over the bike, hands still tightly gripping the handlebars. 

Your eyes were first caught on the truck, bending along the chrome edges and each tiny patch of rust. You knew that truck just as well as you knew this house, and even more so as you were learning more about the man who owned both. A man you thought, for the longest time, you knew too. 

The clatter of the door creaking open pulled you out of this trance, dragging you back to the real world once again.

You didn’t move from your spot by the truck, even as Rebecca called out from the open doorway to “come in, it’s cold.” 

You continued to hesitate, your molars grinding together until you saw her figure begin to leave the doorway of her home. You dropped your bike, letting it fall without a kickstand, and began trotting over before she could move another inch. 

When you reach the door, Becky’s arms are thrown around you in a tight embrace. You try to match that same eagerness but pale in comparison to the air on lock of Rebecca’s grip. 

When she pulled away, you took in a deep and much-needed breath, not realizing you’d been holding it until the hug was over. 

“Thank you for coming back.” She said softly. You’ve never made her so genuinely sad before, and more and more guilt began filling your belly. 

“I'm sorry for leaving.” The melodic sound of your voice danced through the house and directly to his ears. It shook every ounce of sleep out of his bones, and he shot up to sit at the edge of the couch. 

“Come in, I gotta to grab my bag.” Becky let you by as she sped back to her room. 

You stepped carefully inside but didn’t sit. You stared at your feet, not wanting to drop your eyes onto Mr. Barnes, and he did the same as he scratched the back of his head. 

Becky trotted back out as she gave her father a quick goodbye. “We’re going to get something to eat; I’ll be back later.” 

“Be safe.” He waved her off before finally getting up to leave the room. Becky seemed to seethe a little at the dismissal and trudged out of the house and into the open autumn air, with you shutting the door behind you and following her. 

The two of you ditched your bikes, choosing instead to walk through the small town looking for a destination with cheap fare. Would you grab a mediocre burger at McDonald's, a hot meal made with love at the small diner, or an overfilled soft serve at the only ice cream shop still open this late in the season? 

You both decided on junk snacks and soda at the gas station. You tried to eat your fill of Little Debbie cake and chips but ended up nibbling whatever your stomach would allow. Neither of you seemed very hungry. 

You both sat at an old bench by an empty parking lot, silently picking at your food until one of you finally broke through the thick, icy wall that formed between you. 

“Why did you run away from me?” Becky was the first to speak, asking a question that had been on her mind for days. 

“What? Becky, I told you. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just…”

“Overwhelmed.” She finished your sentence before continuing with her own. “You still didn’t tell me why. You never keep things from me when you're upset.” 

That was true, but how could you tell her about how you felt about her own father? 

You felt a small gust of wind roll over your shoulders, rustling your hair. It was followed by a stray droplet signaling the change that was to come. 

“I saw you talking to my dad in the kitchen…and you were upset.” You stared down at the cracked asphalt, the few strands of dead grass still poking through. 

You were frozen to the bench, joints and muscles locking into place as your eyes were stuck on the deep grey pits forming in the sky. Neither of you could look at the other, and you waited for her to say more. 

When you and Mr. Barnes had been talking that night, neither of you had realized when the shower cut off. But, luckily, you both had kept your voices low enough to hide the true nature of the conversation. All Becky knew was that something upset you enough to send you running into the night. 

“Was it something he said? Do you hate me now too?” Her voice broke, another onslaught of tears beginning to pour down her cheeks. Never in your life had you made Rebecca so sad. 

“What?!” You finally snap into action, wanting nothing but to comfort her. 

“I saw you guys arguing in the kitchen like my mom and him used to when they would talk about me.” She unraveled, pulling herself away from you to stand a few feet from the bench. 

Another drop of rain fell, hitting your shoulder, followed by another and another. 

“He doesn’t hate you! I don’t hate you, Becky.” 

“That’s not what it was about! I swear!” 

“Then what?! What the fuck were you two yelling at each other about?” She cried, now throwing her purse around in the damp air. The clouds opened up to mirror her strife, pouring out over the both of you. 

You had to yank your hoodless coat over your head to shield yourself from the onslaught, all while screaming back at her. “It wasn’t you. I just…can we get out of the fucking rain?!!” 

“No! I want an answer! You don’t keep things from me; you never ever do.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you; it’s just…" You couldn’t finish that one sentence yet again. You're one roadblock to fixing this situation, possibly making it so much worse. 

“Just what?! Fuckin tell me.” She was just letting the storm soak her to her bones, too caught up in her personal whirlwind to notice. 

Do you dare tell the truth? How would she react? You have to take a heavy breath before attempting to speak again. They were the first words that popped into your head, and they just spilled out without stopping to think them over. 

“He was mad at me for not stopping you that night at the party. He was upset that I let you get so drunk. I was there with you, and I didn’t do enough to stop it, and he was just upset. I don’t mean to keep anything from you.” But I have to. 

Another painful lie to add to your new pile of sin. But, you weren’t wrong either. You went with her to protect her, and you failed. Whether James had truly felt it was your fault, a small part of you certainly did. 

Becky just sobbed there in the rain before stumbling towards you to drag you into another tight hug, crying into your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” This time it was her who was apologizing and bawling into your already wet coat that was still slung over your head. 

“Can we just get out of the rain, please?!” 

She pulled away and gave a little nod before walking off towards the treeline near the parking lot. There was a metal link fence protecting the short strip of wilderness from the cracked concrete of civilization. 

Neither of you were going to be able to walk home in this weather, and Becky agreed to call her dad. 

You were hesitant to bother your mom, as not only was she at work, but she wasn’t keen on you still hanging around Rebecca. 

You got chewed out for having her in the house again. This time the transgression would be met with an actual punishment. 

The two of you waited by the trees before he came speeding by. New puddles that formed in the small dips in the road were splashed out by the onslaught of determined tires, sending a rush of water over the side of his truck before he finally came to a stop beside a set of two troublesome girls. 

Becky rushed for the door, yanking it open so as to escape the rain. You followed after, breathing with relief to be out of the downpour of water and emotion. 

“Why didn’t you call sooner?” Mr. Barnes rubbed his brow hard as the two of you crawled into the back of the truck. 

It wasn’t that simple anymore to just answer that question. As hard as it was to give Becky a crumb, you couldn’t bear to give him so much as an inkling of the previous conversation you and Becky shared. 

“It wasn’t that bad a minute ago.” Becky might not have been lying, as she didn’t pay much attention to the actual severity of the rain during her tirade. 

“Well, let's check the weather next time before going out on one of your little excursions, okay?” 

“Alright,” Becky huffed before pulling her seatbelt across her body with a click. 

You stayed quiet during the ride, thinking only about the partial confession you’d given your friend. You looked up only once at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of a familiar pair of blue eyes looking back at you before switching back to the road ahead. 

Chapter 5

Tag list : @brianheadsworld @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @funkybarnes @mayusenpai666 @societyfolklore @cadencejames87 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrs-marc-spector @waitingformysandman @buckitostan @areadersworld @kjah97 @buckysdoll85 @allmyfanficfaves @lovehotch87 @reelovesbuckybarnes @winterslove1917 @missvelvetsstuff @roguelioness-blog @quotesprincess-blog1 @shortayye @notyourtypicalrose

[pullupinarari]

Lean your weight on me [LH]

2. There’ll be a riot

Summary: a 9 chapter series where you are a famous singer, living the career of your dreams. But your chaotic schedule makes your body give in, making you lose your memory and forget (almost) everything.

Author’s note: second part of this series is here and I can’t put into words how crazy my mind has been working on this plot, creating new scenarios and ideas for the next chapters 😩 I also wanted to thank you girlies for the support you’ve given me on the first chapter 🩷

wc: 4031 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated (yall already know that this is barely proofread 😗)

all chapters here

Lewis freezes in his place as soon as he hears you calling his name. His heart skips a beat - you recognise him, there’s still some hope for him to hold on to. He can feel the tears swelling in his eyes, the relief of you knowing him taking a toll on his emotions - he’s been holding so much anxiety inside of him for the past couple of hours.

He takes a few steps further towards you, slow and carefully, almost as if he’s afraid of scaring you. You follow every move of his, studying him while your teary eyes match his. Lewis sits on a chair beside your bed, his hands instinctively going to reach for yours, but he stops himself before he can touch you, putting his hands down on the bed.

You feel weird at the thought of him not touching you - he was supposed to, right? Why doesn’t he want to touch you?

He clears his throat, looking at you with the softest look you could ever feel on you.

“Do you remember me?” - he slowly questions, his voice barely above a whisper, scared of what you might answer him.

“I do. You’re my boyfriend” - you say in a soft tone, as if it was the most obvious thing ever, feeling some peace inside of yourself for finally seeing a face that you actually recognise.

Lewis feels his heart sink a little more. You remember him as your boyfriend, not your husband, which can mean that you don’t remember most things that happened to your relationship in the past six years, at least.

“Yes, I am your boyfriend” - he gulps as he tries his best to give you a smile, in spite of everything. He understands that it’s best for you if he doesn’t try to push new information into your brain right now - he’s just happy that you can remember him and the fact that you two are in a relationship together, sharing your lives with each other.

“Why don’t you want to hold my hand?” - you blurt out, the lack of memory bringing out your most honest side - your feelings are everything that you know now.

Your question caught Lewis off guard. The surprised look on his face made a rush of nervousness run through your body in a matter of milliseconds. But when his hands reach yours, and you feel the warmth of his touch, the way his soft skin is brushing against yours, the familiar feeling of those hands, who seem to know everything about you, makes you feel protected and held - even if it’s just some hands. You can’t control your emotions, feeling a wreck as tears run down your face. You don’t know why, but you feel as if you were in need of some kind and caring touches for a while now - even if you don’t remember anything from before, it’s like your body knows it.

And Lewis can’t control himself as he sees you crying in front of him, finally opening up and being vulnerable - something that rarely happens.

“There’s nothing more that I want than to hold you, my love” - he sincerely says, wiping his own tears now.

His face is down, crying silently as he kisses your knots, his fingers still gently caressing your hands. You gently remove one of your hands from his touch, to reach for his head, caressing his braids and scalp, having a moment of silence while your tears seem to speak for both of you.

“Do you know what happened to me? Why am I here?” - you say after a while, making Lewis bite the inside of his lip.

“You had a burnout, my love. You blacked out and it took a while for the doctors to be able to bring you back into a conscious state. You are still very fragile and weak” - he points out, his voice still soft as his hands don’t leave yours now.

A burnout? Your head hurts from thinking so hard.

“Is that why I can’t remember anything? No matter how hard I try?” - you question him again.

He nods his head. “You lost your memory, my love. We don’t know yet if this is temporary or not, but I’m surprised that you could remember me” - he says, his voice tingling with an inch of happiness.

“I remember talking to you, I don’t know when, obviously. But it’s like I can hear your voice in my head, wishing me good luck and telling me that you love me?” - you say, your tone sounding confused, you don’t know what’s real and what’s not.

“Yes” - Lewis confirms it. “I always wish you good luck before your shows and I always remind you of how much I love you” - he kisses your hand while explaining it to you.

“My shows? What shows?” - your eyebrows knit in pure confusion right now. What is he talking about?

Lewis stays silent for some seconds, trying to decide what to do. “That’s a story for another time, love, we don’t want to confuse you with a crazy amount of information at the same time. You need to focus on getting better now, so I can take you home” - he smiles, putting a strand of hair behind your ear and caressing your cheek.

You feel so lost and alone, but at the same time, Lewis feels like the only safe place you know, the one you can trust - you don’t remember much about him, but your gut and heart tell you that you’re safe around him.

And Lewis could never put into words how grateful he feels that you still trust him, even when your memory is failing you the most.

The ringing coming from your phone takes him out of his trance. He picks it up, seeing your best friend’s name on the screen.

“Who’s calling?” - you ask, even though you’re pretty sure that you won’t recognise whoever it might be.

Lewis thinks for a second before letting you know. “It’s Grace, do you remember her?” - he carefully asks, trying to see if the name rings any bells on your brain. But your blank expression tells him everything.

“No” - you shake your head. “Should I remember her?” - great, more questions to fill the blank spaces in your brain. You start to feel frustrated, trying your hardest to remember everything again, or at least to just have a glimpse of a memory, of something, someone. But nothing. Your mind feels like a piece of paper, unwritten and unfolded, with no experiences at all.

Lewis stays silent, turning off your phone as he sees your reaction - your fists are curling into a ball, your face is contorting in anger. “My love, relax, everything is okay” - he tries to say, but you cut him off.

“No Lewis, it’s not okay! Nothing is okay! I feel so stupid and useless, I am trying my best to remember something or someone but I can’t, it’s like my stupid brain doesn’t work, it’s so fucking frustrating��� - you reply back, anger staining your voice and making your heart beat faster.

Lewis tries to hold your hand, but you don’t let him get any closer to you know, distancing your limbs from him, leaving your husband speechless at your attitude.

“Y/N-“ - you immediately interrupt him.

“Just leave me alone, Lewis” - your tone is cold and harsh, taking deep breathes to try and calm down the knot forming in your throat already from all the anger running through your body.

And if Lewis felt like he won the lottery when you said his name, now he feels like he has lost it all - you could get angry a million times, but you never really told him to leave you alone, his touch and his words were enough to calm you down most of the times. Could this be the beginning of a new you? A new personality that Lewis didn’t knew about and, to be honest, one that he doesn’t relate to at all? These questions make him leave the room with a heavy heart, rethinking a million times about the future of your relationship.

Lewis goes to take a walk for a few minutes, maybe some fresh air will help him clear his thoughts and calm down as well. He tries his best to not think about things too much right now - you are going through a very serious problem and both of you are living this hard time together as a couple, while Lewis is still trying to discover the best way to understand your new mind. Everything feels very unstable and fragile now, and maybe he will have to get used to this feeling of uncertainty that’s fleeing above his chest and clouding his mind.

There’s no way in hell that he is going to give up on you - he could never do that, he is determined to fight with you, for you, until the end if he has to. You have always been by his side through his darkest moments, and now he needs to step up, cradle you in his chest and take care of you - you need him more than ever now, especially since it seems like he’s the only person that your mind still has some recollection of. So he’s not backing down, definitely not. He will put all the anger, sadness and doubts behind his back and he will be by your side through this whole thing, whether you like it or not.

He’s not giving up on you, he’s not crossing his arms and watch you fall apart. No, he will pick you back up in this moment of need. If you fall, he catches you in no time, if you need to cry, he’ll give you his shoulder for you to cry on, if you need reassurance, his arms will hold you while he consoles your soul and heart - he’s going to act like your fucking husband, because that’s what he is. He is not some immature boyfriend that gets scared when things get tough.

And with that thought in mind, he walks back to your room, only to find you fast asleep in your bed. He analyses your features - it’s impossible not to notice how exhausted you look. The deep, dark bags under your eyes heavily contrast with your pale skin. He had already noticed before how you kept staring blankly ahead, not really focusing much on anything, your hands tightening his in a weak manner, you don’t have the strength in your body anymore. Your body just collapses on the bed, burying yourself on the pillows because you are physically unable to move more than that - your movements are too unsteady and it takes too much energy to do anything else, energy that you don’t have right now.

Lewis feels guilty for actually leaving, even if he was just doing what you asked him to. For now, he just decides to let you have some much needed rest, as he goes outside and decides to call your best friend, Grace - she deserves to know what’s going on.

She picks up the call almost immediately, as if she was waiting for someone to call her.

“Can someone tell me what the fuck happened to my best friend?! I saw a video on twitter of her passing out on stage, please is she okay?” - Grace asks in a hurry, the entire phrase coming out of her mouth in just a second.

Lewis sighs before explaining. “Yeah Grace, Y/N isn’t feeling great” - he decides to keep it short, knowing there is a lot of information for the girl to take in.

“What do you mean, she isn’t feeling great? What happened, Lewis?” - Grace insists, her anxiety mixing with impatience now.

“She lost her memory, Grace. She doesn’t remember anyone or anything. I mean, sort of. She kind of remembers me, but she basically forgot everything about her life” - the British man said over the phone, while sitting on the floor outside, his voice sounding small.

Your best friend went silent on the other line. “… lost her memory? For good? Like it’s never coming back? Oh my, does she remember me? Do you think it’s a good idea if I show up at the hospital? Maybe I can make her remember some things-“

Lewis feels the need to cut her off, her thousand questions are mixing with his own now, overwhelming him.

“Grace, please. I don’t think she remembers you, I told her your name and it didn’t rang any bells in her mind. And now I don’t think she should receive a big shot of new information, she’s still very fragile and needs time and rest to be able to recover from all this” - he explains, defending what’s best for you now.

“I understand. But what are the doctors saying about her state?” - your best friend’s voice is sounding strained now, crying at the image of you that’s running through her head.

“They said she had a burnout. But they’re still confused about the loss memory part. They don’t know yet if it’s temporary or if it’s permanent, I think they need to give her time to realise what happened to her mind” - he runs his free hand through his features, scratching the skin of his cheek, feeling exhausted himself now.

Suddenly, Grace’s tone changes, surprising Lewis.

“I knew those fucking journalists would kill her mental health someday” - she spats, anger lingering in her voice now.

The man’s face scrunches in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” - he asks.

Grace sighs. “Lewis, please don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don’t do this now. Come on, be serious” - the girl begs him in a harsh manner.

His silence seems to answer her.

“Oh my fucking god, Lewis, are you stupid? Y/N kept complaining about all the stalking that journalists kept doing to her, all the rumours, the comments, the media were slowly killing her. She couldn’t sleep because she would spend the entire night reading mean comments and fake news about her and those shitty rumours surrounding her name. She would have panic attacks almost every night, crying herself to sleep, feeling miserable and misunderstood. I tried my best to help her, to listen to her, but it’s not easy to deal with a crying best friend when she calls me at 4 am but she’s on another continent! Please, just tell me that you knew about this and that you tried to prevent it as well, please Lewis” - she takes a breath, trying to calm down so she doesn’t fight him on this.

Lewis is left speechless, closing his eyes and turning his head down, feeling ashamed of himself and his behaviour towards your complaints about the situation.

“Fuck” - he whispers, kicking the floor out of anger. “Fuck, I fucked it up more, I should’ve listened to her more” - he tells the girl.

“What have you done, Lewis?” - Grace asks.

He sighs loudly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes already. “She told me about the media annoying her, yes. She didn’t told me about those panic attacks, about the stalking, the comments, anything. But I just told her to ignore the paparazzis because they only make up rumours and we know those aren’t true. I just didn’t paid much mind to it when she told me. I didn’t knew she was struggling so hard with it” - the man confesses, feeling weak and small now, like he was incapable of actually listening to his wife and protecting her from something that was causing her so much pain.

“When you tell me this, it just feels weird because I definitely have a different recollection of these events. She didn’t told me any of this” - he continues speaking, now more to himself than to her really, wondering why did you hide all this from him.

And it’s like Grace can hear the guilt in his voice. “Listen, Lewis, I’m her best friend. There’s things we are supposed to share with our besties. If you’re thinking about why didn’t she told you any of this, she really didn’t wanted you to worry about it, because you were fighting for the championship. She didn’t wanted you to have a lot on your plate so you could focus on that, she told me this herself” - the girl explains in a softer tone.

Lewis lets out an ironic chuckle. “Yeah, the championship. Who cares about a fucking championship when she was suffering this much and I was oblivious of it. I’m so fucking dumb” - he vents, hiding his face in his jacket, feeling truly ashamed of all this.

“Lewis, you need to focus on being by her side now. She needs you more than ever and that’s all it matters. What happened belongs to the past and there’s nothing we can do about it now” - Grace tried to reason with him.

But the man just shakes his head. “There are things that can be done and will be done. I’m taking measurements into my own hands and I’m doing what I should’ve done earlier” - he says, hurrying to say goodbye to the girl, so he can make some more important phone calls.

He calls his lawyers, deciding what he can do to make sure that those journalists don’t get anywhere near you anymore, so you can recover in peace and never go through any of this ever again.

Breaking: Lewis Hamilton silences the media. The F1 driver is suing tabloids for their alleged “tainted lies” about his wife, Y/N

Grace reads the news online, realising that Lewis has decided to sue all paparazzis who were stalking you, and also granting a restraining order against them, so they really can’t go near you. Your best friend sighs, feeling a bit more relieved after knowing that you won’t have to worry about any of this again in the future. Still, her heart feels heavy for you, and it hurts to know that her best friend, her sister, her partner in crime, the person who knows her better than anyone else in this world, doesn’t remember her or any of the adventures you’ve shared throughout the years.

And Lewis’ heart feels tight in his chest when he goes back to your room and he sees that you’ve already woken up from your nap. He leans on the door, crossing his arms with a simple smile on his face - he can’t forget how grateful he is that you’re alive, after all.

You look at him, feeling insecure and unsure after your reaction earlier. You told him to go, to leave you alone - an explosion after all the suppressed emotions that have been floating in your blood for the past couple of hours. You mirror his image, showing him a small smile as well - little do you know that is more than enough to make his heart flutter, like a teenager who just got a smile from his crush. He walks to you, taking a seat on the chair beside your bed once again. He gets closer to you, pulling the chair more and more, so his arms are now resting on your bed, ready to grab your hands and show you some love. Still, he decides to give you some space, not touching you yet, definitely not wanting to scare you away from him.

But you’re not scared in his presence, Lewis has this feeling of family attached to him, dragging you to him like an magnet. So you forget about all the anxiety messing with your mind, and you gently touch his hand with your pinky finger, waiting to get a reaction from him. And that’s all it takes for you to see a beautiful smile on his face, while he takes the hint and nestles your hand with his own. He looks at you with adoration in his eyes, like you’re the most special and precious thing in this world - and, to him, you really are.

“I’m sorry for my reaction earlier” - you let him know, your voice still hoarse from all the sleeping.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything, my love” - he kisses your hand gently. “I am sorry for not picking up on the signs earlier, I am sorry for dismissing how you were feeling, and I am sorry for not being there for you as much as I should have, I’m sorry for not helping as much as I could” - Lewis says, his eyes looking glossy already and his voice laced with emotion.

He notices your confused expression, and he lets out a small chuckle. “I know you don’t remember any of this and you have no idea of what I’m talking about, but please, let me do this” - you nod your head at his words, and he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“I know that everything feels very confusing and unstable right now, I can only imagine how you’ve been feeling for the last couple of weeks. But now, I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about anything else besides your recovery. And I want to ask you, please, let me be here for you. I now know that you’ve been feeling broken, shattered and suffering really badly lately, and I will never forgive myself for not being there enough to prevent all this from happening. But I will be here for you now, I will be here for your heart, for your soul. Just please, let me make it up for my mistakes. I don’t want you to feel alone and defeated anymore - it is now my responsibility to be by your side through it all, I promise I will be here until you’re whole again, until you feel like yourself. I promise I’m not failing you again, I will be here every step of the way, through the ups and downs, and I will take care of you. And if after all of this, you get your memory back and you remember how badly I’ve failed you when you needed me the most, you can kick me to the curb. You are allowed to break me after all the hugs that I didn’t gave you, all the cries that you’ve suppressed around me, the venting that I didn’t heard, the promises I couldn’t keep and the cuddles that I’ve missed. You have always been there for me when I needed someone, and I couldn’t step up to do the same to you, being too starry eyed with my own career. But please, let me love you like you need. I promise I won’t get mad if you tell me to fuck off after all this, but only if you’re back on your feet. I just want to have you back, I need to have my girl back” - Lewis vents to you, tears falling down his features now as he looks at you, his honest emotions pouring from his body into yours.

You stay speechless, your heart beating faster now - his words awakening something inside of you, something that is making you feel nervous and worried. Some tears leave your eyes as well, as you tight your grip around his hand more, you need to feel safe, you need to calm down.

And that’s when Lewis’ face reaches closer to yours, his lips landing on your forehead, giving you a heartfelt kiss, trying to comfort you as much as he can without invading your space. It’s like time froze for you - or maybe his lips lingered on your skin more time than it was supposed to, maybe he didn’t wanted to let go. But the touch of his fingers getting tangled with yours, the feeling of his lips on you, are enough to awake an eruption of new emotions inside of your body, feeling a wave of relief and love wash over you, like you are where you’re supposed to, next to the person who you belong you - and you can’t wait to discover more about Lewis. Every little thing feels like a new adventure and, now, you’re anxious to find out where all of this is leading you to.

[slimybeth69]

Touch: Part 7

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary: Your future with Din seems bleak in the darkness of the ship, that is...until it's not so dark anymore.

Warnings: Consume at your own risk. No tags due to chapter spoilers. Non-spoiler disclaimer- Scenes from the Mandalorian season 3. The story arc diverts from canon, but it does follow the series pretty closely for a couple chapters.

wc: ~13k

a/n- sorry for another no tag/warning chapter. if you need to see a list of the potential things in here, refer back to the series masterlist to see what tags could be upsetting to you.

a/n pt 2: I try so hard to make sure that this is formatted correctly, and makes sense and flows well. I work on the dialogue a little bit-- and it's gonna have mistakes and maybe a spelling error. UNBETA'ED PROOFREAD BY TIRED EYES.

Sleep doesn't come to you easily that night. The only thing you can feel is the shattering of your heart- and it's turning into real, physical pain. It's like something alive and venomous crawled inside your stomach, and is twisting, stinging— biting you, as it moves all around, making you feel sick.

You wonder what Mando is doing now while you lay here all alone in the silence of your room— he probably is sitting in the cockpit, driving you right back to Cantonica. That's probably exactly what he did when he got up and left without a word! Turned the ship around so he could drop you off at Canto Bight Casino.

You could be a tender again, maybe a waitress too. Maybe your room in that woman's house was still available. You still had some credits saved up from before.

You'd be okay.

Everything was going to be just fine now that you didn't have to worry about Mando coming to ask to touch and watch, or put things inside you that weren't him- even though you've never stopped thinking about him, and those nights you shared together. They run through your mind at least once a day— sometimes more.

Mando won't bother you in the night to call you nice, sweet things, and to make your heart feel bigger and also lighter at the same time, somehow. Mando won't come to touch you and watch you and make between your legs feel things. too. Good things. Amazing things. 

Eventually, after every single tear left inside of you has been cried out, you drift off to sleep.

The heat that wakes you up isn't confined to just your upper arm like it had been the night you came home from the temple. It encapsulates you, it overtakes everything that you are, and you love it because it's familiar.

You hum, ignoring all the sadness and anger that had been inside of you just hours ago before your teary eyes closed for the last time that night.

Strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you in close. A calm, pacifying voice whispers, "You think I do not care for my little one?"

"You're mad at me," you murmur, pushing your body back against his as tightly as you can, savoring in all of this. "Gonna leave me," you almost whimper, stealing all of the warmth you can from him, even though it's almost too much.

Hands as hot as the sun roam across the supple, soft curves of your body through your clothing. It's hard to think about anything other than the way he feels pressed against you like this, the way that his fingers tease you, tugging the hem of your shirt just over the of soft, gentle curve of your stomach before his hands move to your thighs, or up over your chest to your neck.

He is all over you, and you feel drunk because of—Mando!

"Get out—" you huff, pushing his exploring hands off your eager and excited body. "-of my—"You've betrayed yourself at the hands of a trickster! A slithering sneak who slips into your bed under the veil of the void. "-bed!"

It's probably he fact that you're twisting and turning, pushing against him, and trying to get him out of your bed that brings an urgency to his explanations. Din grips both of your wrists in his hands, his fingers closing around them completely.

"Listen to me, please, pretty girl in her white dress," His soft whisper in your ear melt your spine into liquid that pools somewhere in the core of you. The words, and the way he says them so softly, smooth like the richest velvet you've ever felt, quell the rage inside of you. “You need to understand that I have to wear my helmet,but I would show you if it would tell you how much I care."

There is no inflection, or teasing in his voice. The Mandalorian is serious, and it makes your heart almost still completely in your chest.

“Mando—"

“If you call me Mando again," his voice growls in your ear, but he sounds almost hurt or offended, like he can't believe you're still calling him that. "Offers revoked."

Shit.

There isn't enough time for you to say anything else before he continues.

"I left earlier because I was upset with you…for being upset with me," he starts, his lips pressed to your ear tightly so he makes sure you can hear him. "I was selfish, I should have stayed here with you," he sighs, his breath plumes against the side of your face, and you inhale to take in the sweet scent of him, and it makes your head spin.

This isn't how you wanted this to happen! Din was supposed to show you his face because he wanted to, not because you guilt him into doing it!

The last two years you thought of all the ways you could get him to show you his face and now, you only want one way. For him to want to show you. Not because you made him feel badly for not showing you.

Maker!

“Din, you don’t have to show me— this isn't what I want.” There is hesitation in your voice because you're reluctant to say it, but it's the truth

Din stiffens behind you, his grip on your wrist goes slack, but his mouth stays pressed to your ear.

Everything in the ship is quiet besides him breathing quietly.

“You’re right, though. I should have shown you before I left, like I showed Grogu. I hoped the talk we had the night before was enough. You said you’d do it for free, and I thought…” Din trails off.

You hate when he does that. You never need to. All your thoughts are front and center at all times ready to be said fully at any given moment. And he’s always searching inside that head for something to say.

“I hoped the meaning behind me making Luke and Ahsoka let you stay was worth more than words," he breathes against the shell of your ear.

If you’re really thinking back on it right now in this bed…the man did wait two years for you. Beskar-man got you a pretty focus crystal, said he’d get you a lightsaber to put it in. Took you into his clan earlier…he’s never done that before.

He said he came to visit, and was denied entry.

Din only mirrored your reaction getting off the return ship to the hangar to see him. 

Shit.

"Why did you hope it would be enough?" It comes out a whisper, and croaked because of how dry your mouth is.

It feels like the ship hit turbulence, but really, it's just your body trembling— vibrating in anticipation.

What could he mean?

Din's breath grows shaky, like he might be just as scared as you. He starts to say something, but is so hesitant now, like maybe this was too scary, even for Din. 

There isn't a time that you can remember him being scared- not that you've seen at least.

"What if you don't like it— what if you don't like me?" He finally says, and the words stab you right in the heart. "Would you still… do all of this for free?"

Din releases your wrists from his grasp; you hadn't even realized he was still holding on to you because you had stopped fighting him the minute he asked. He places his hands on top of your shaking ones, and slips his fingers in the spots between yours.

Deep down you are kind of scared because…what if you don’t like it? 

What if he was warning you that first night about you doodles that he didn’t look the way that you thought? 

What if he puts that helmet on and never takes it off because what’s under it isn’t nice to look at?

What if the man who has been touching you, and being so good to you; who you think you could potentially be in love with…isn’t what you want to look at?

What do you do then?

Din can put that helmet back on all he wants, but you’ll know.

You’ll know, and you’ll never be able to un-know what his face looks like. 

Maker. Maker. Maker.You are a special star- you are. A sick star!

This is unfair. Absolute shit timing, and situation.

Putting you in this position to know? How dare Din, and Maker himself, do this to you!?

Even though this is all you want!

Just not like this!

Another part of you thinks that you couldn’t ever not care for the man who is under that helmet. Despite his looks, right? You’re not shallow, not really. As you think back on it right now, he’s done everything for you, and is willing to do the most everythingright now. By showing you his face.

How do the clans of Mand'alor work? What is their religion? Who are the people of that planet that had been destroyed so long ago?

Bathe in the living waters. What’s livingin the waters? Why does he have to wash himself in them?

You’re unsure. If it was explained in the cave— you blacked out for a minute looking at the nice sand. It felt like you had sand in your ears for most of the conversation.

It's no wonder you don’t know shit about fuck-all right now.

You stare at the wall in front of you, looking at all the rivets and welds that keep this giant, metal monstrosity together while it flies through the sky—

Hold on just one Maker-loving second! You can see things!?

There are all different shades of blue and purple and white filling the room. You tilt your head up and look out the windows, and all those colors are streaking past so quickly, it's all a blur. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You realize how fast you're moving when you look at it.

If you turned around right now…you'd be able to see Din. His voice has been non-modulated this whole time, his warm cheek and scratchy facial hair has been present against the side of your head since you woke up.

You shut your eyes so tight it almost hurts,

You flip around in Din’s arms, and pepper kisses across his entire face because you can. He's right here in your bed, and you can touch him, feel him, kiss him as much as you want- but you won't look.

You start speaking quickly, urgently— because you feel like such an ass, such a dumb idiot for because you were selfish. Everything he did for you, starting from the notebook, the credits to go to the market, the opportunity given to only you to train with the Jedi? How many others get that? The focus crystal?

He also could have completely kept you in the dark about all of this. Made you stay on the ship while the Armor lady Mandalorian reamed his ass out for taking off that stupid helmet.

Din didn't do that though, he gave you an opportunity to hear the truth and now, he's offering to show you his face.

“Din, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so ungrateful. I care for you so much- with the helmet. It’s enough. You’re enough with the helmet.” You keep your eyes shut tight–and you're glad you do, because you could cry again. You feel so foolish for not appreciating him more."

“Open your eyes, little one in the white dress. Please, before it’s too late and I have to put it back on again for good.” Din moves his face closer to you, the tip of his nose touching yours, his warm breath on your lips.

Din kisses you lightly, his lips are so soft, and so warm just like the rest of him. His hand gently presses into the small of your back.

“Is it going to change everything?” You mumble against his lips, worried.

You're worried everything’s going to be different. What does all this mean? You'll get to see his face once, and then never again? 

Do you get beskar’gam like Grogu did? Do you have to learn Mando’a? Because it’s hard! You hear Din speak it sometimes, and it sounds so hard to learn!

You don’t know anything, and you can’t find the strength in your lungs to make the words come out. What is going on? This is a dream. Has to be.

“I don’t want it to change. I want you to rest your head down at night knowing I care,” Din nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours gently. "Rest your head down on me at night— every night."

You exhale loudly—

"Were you holding your breath?" Din chuckles, and steals another quick kiss before you can say anything, or even react to what he said, “This way you know, you can stop wondering. You’d have something to think about besides the helmet.” Din’s voice is so soothing.

If your heart wasn’t about to speed out of your chest and hide somewhere else in the ship his voice could lull you to sleep.

“I willhave to leave again, like before, but I’ll ask you to come when it’s not too dangerous. I won’t keep you trapped here like before.” Din’s offering all you want. To be with him sometimes off the ship. To come with him.

“You want me to look?” You ask again.

This is really going to happen this is not a dream.

Din’s one-million-degree body lets you know that you're not still asleep. This is all really happening, and you’re going to see him for the first and probably last time. That’s okay with you.

Honestly, he could tell you he’s too nervous— and you’d say that you were too and you could both just go to sleep. Your heart, dear Maker, your heart is beating and pounding so fast, there is no way he cannot feel it pressed up against you like this. 

“Yes. Please look. I want you to see.” Din speaks so softly and so calmly and he doesn’t sound nervous or uncomfortable anymore. Just amazed to be here sharing this little bed with you. 

The calm quietness of the ship is ruined by screaming alarms. Loud ones. Bright, flashing lights fill the ship.

Everything inside of you feels like I could jump right out and lay beside you on the bed.

As fast as the alarms went off, you and Din start scrambling, limbs flailing. Your elbow connects with something hard, and then Din groans loudly.

"Did I!?" You exclaim, already knowing what you've done.

You clamor out of the bed Din is already standing beside, and has his hands covering his nose and most of face.

But you can see his eyes, and they’re dark and perfect—and he’s bleeding.

Fuck.

Everything is so loud, it feels impossible even form one single helpful thought with the alarms going off, you just stand there looking dumbstruck.

Din runs out of the room with blood dripping from his hands and elbows leaving little droplets on the ground.  You run into the main hull and look for some sort of first aid kit to help the man whose nose you just probably broke, but you see nothing.

The hallway back to your room is flashing red and white over and over and you think you’re going to pass out. It’s so fucking loud.

There is blood dripping all down the hall to where Din took off, probably the cockpit.

The kid is wailingfrom his room and now you’re on the verge of tears too. Grogu can wait. You need to clean up this blood first. You forget where everything is on the ship, your memory embarrasses you while you try to remember how to clean something up. You’re not thinking clearly. It’s so loud and so overwhelming. Oh, Maker. 

The alarms and the lights stop, and finally there is some semblance of calm.

It's so much easier to think clearly when the ship isn't screaming at you. Cleaning supplies are in the dining area, under the sink.

The drops of blood are focused mainly in the sleeping quarters. You can think again. You start to grab everything you need and start the job of cleaning the mess.

The whole ship rumbles enough rock you from side to side gently, and you hear the hydraulics of an opening door below you. There must be a carrier down there, but you're not completely sure.

There wasn't much Din wasn't willing to show you, but he said one door in this new ship was off limits to Grogu and you- while you were still angry with him- so you didn't even question him.

Where is Din going though? Why didn’t he come say goodbye?

Cleaning the little droplets of blood that start in the bedroom next to your bed, you work you way out into the hallway.

While you're cleaning, your mind races with what happened in the bedroom just a couple minutes ago. With everything that happened between him asking you to look, and right now, it feels like a lifetime has passed.

Din Djarin- the mystery man with a helmet and a secret face. A secret life that you know nothing about, as much as you wished you knew, Din doesn't talk about his life.

There hadn't been much for you to share about your life, either. So, the both of you had just fallen into a routine of being comfortable in each other's presence, touching and talking about easy things.

Grogu has stopped crying, but you’ll still go check on him in a minute. It’s just too much with the blood and the kid and the bleeding man. 

As you stand up Din rounds the corner in his full beskar minus his gloves—

With a woman…who is also in beskar. Her armor is nowhere near as loose fitting as Din’s, and doesn’t leave anythingto the imagination. She is beautiful with shoulder length red hair, and perfect lips that fit her face so well. She's a couple inches taller than you, but most of the people in beskar you've met are larger than you in some way.

“This is Bo-Katan.” Din's rasp cuts through the awkward silence that fills the ship. “I need to go with her for a while, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Then we will go to Nevarro. I’ve already turned the autopilot on so we’ll be closer when I get back. I won’t be long.”

Your eyes flick between Din and this woman, Bo-Katan. “Okay…” You force an uncomfortable, and awkward smile. Suddenly, you feel very exposed in only your nightgown. “Have…fun…okay.” You turn and walk into Grogu’s room and try to shut the door.

There isn’t enough space for you, and you have to stand on his little tiny bed to shut it. Now you’re standing on your tip toes, feet angled and shifting so they don’t step on the baby - who is now staring up at you, confused as to why you're in here, and possibly how. You don’t know how you got in here, either.

You’re pretty sure this is a broom closet that Din put a little tiny bed in.

Oh Maker.

Din and a woman? Out in the galaxy together? Alone? Doing what exactly? He didn’t explain.

You scoop the child into your arms and open the door, peering out into the hallway.

It's empty, so you take this opportunity to scurry down the hall towards the room you and Din share.

Bo-Katan comes out of one of the weapons rooms as you try and sneak by, and slam right into her.

Grogu makes an annoyed, sleepy warble and curls up into your arms.

“I’m so sorry," you apologize and hold your hand out and it lands right on her left tit. You stare at your hand on her breast for several seconds before removing it. “I’m so sorry about that, too.” You look at her. Your lips pressed tightly together. “I’m so sorry. I just woke up.” You lie and purse your lips again and point past her to the room one door past the weapons room. “That’s my room," talking for no reason is what you're doing.

You also just touched her boob.

Which is exactly what Din was probably running off to do with her in the night!!

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry, I’m the one who crashed your slumber party.” She winks at you. She’s so pretty. Her pretty red hair and her perfectly shaped lips. You’ll have to ask Din later if she’s a good kisser or not.

Humph.

You hate Bo-Katan— Not really. She was wonderful– but why did she wink at you?

Why is Miss Pretty red hair and perfect lips here in the night winking at you? Because she can come in whenever in the night and steal Din right from under you?

Because she sure did. Stole him right out of your bed and made you possibly break his nose. She made you miss your opportunity to see the lower half of his face. 

“Where’s your helmet?”You blurt the question out suspiciously before you can even stop yourself from thinking about asking her. You just noticed that she had perfect hair and pretty lips and now, you’re just saying the first thing that comes to your head apparently. It just came out all fast and dumb, you couldn’t even control it. “I’m so sorry, again. That was so rude.” You’re so embarrassed. Could just crawl right into any one of these nameless holes in this ship and die kind of embarrassed. You’re here blurting out questions to the beautiful Bo-Katan in your nightgown that you realize now has some blood on it. Shit. 

“No, it’s okay! Don’t be sorry.” She shakes her head and puts a gloved hand on your shoulder. You look down at it and she removes it slowly but you wish she hadn’t. She was so gentle and small and felt nice. “I’m not from the same clan as Mando. We just bear different religions and ideas. I don’t have to sport mine all the time.” Bo-Katan winks at you again! Why is she winking at you!? “Our ideals aren’t as severe and old-fashioned as his.” 

Din himself comes from around the corner as she says this as you flick your head to him. He looks between the two of you and Grogu who has passed out again in your arms. 

“I’m sleeping with him tonight.” You say for no reason. Din nods and puts his second glove on. “I’ll see you…soon?” Din nods again and presses his forehead to yours, one hand on the back of your neck. He holds you there.

See this Bo? Hmm? Do ya? 

Din lets you go and rambles off the list. 

“Be safe. Don’t let anyone on. Don’t get off. I’ll be back tonight. Soon. Hopefully.” Din nods and then looks down at Bo-Katan. She is still looking at you, smiling softly. 

“I’ll make sure he gets back to you. Don’t fret.” You wait for her to wink again but she doesn’t this time. She puts another gentle hand on your shoulder; as if she’s trying to comfort you? Maybe she feels bad for you? Because she's about to go touch him like you do!? What is happening? Din gave youforehead touches, which you assume is a sign of affection from him to you when he can’t take his helmet off. You like it. 

Bo-Katan…and her helmet-less head. Who is this woman? How does Din know her? She’s an associateof his. You wonder how oftenand how wellthey’ve been associated.She was nice to you though. And gave you a gentle touch. 

Are you…touch starved?

The thought starts racing through your head as they walk down the hallway.

Why did her touch feel so good? So comforting. And that’s dumb because Din waited two years– Did Din wait for two years? Oh, my Maker. Was this a woman who he had been gallivanting around the stars with while his paid babysitter and touch womanwas indisposed? 

No. 

That didn’t happen. Nope. Not even a little bit. is just someone Din knows. Din can know people. You know people. You know Luke and Ahsoka. And Grogu. And some kids from the temple. And that guy from the sweets shop in the Outdoors Market or whatever it was called. Hmph. You had friends too. Din’s not the only one with friends. Hmph. 

You look around the room that’s still being streaked in all the pretty colors and you take all the blankets and lay them out on the floor. You lay Grogu down next to you and his eyes open. He makes a fascinated, intrigued warbling sound. 

“I know. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You whisper down to him.

He holds your index finger in his three little claws while you watch the stars pass by.

“Well...you’ve seen Din’s eyes, right?” You lift your head to look at Grogu and he coos softly. “Yeah, so those are the most beautiful, and then this is a close second.” You explain quietly.

The baby makes a sound like he could be agreeing with you.

“I know. They are so dark. And his forehead, Grogu.  And his hair. It was so curly and messy and dark.” You start listing off all the things you saw on Din’s face to Grogu who listens happily.

Grogu makes a shocked warble sound that stops you from your rambling list of things you saw.

"He does have a beard. I saw it tonight!" You exclaim. "When was the last time you saw his face? So long ago, it was. I saw him tonight, little green child," you taunt him.

Grogu blinks up at you silently.

"I don't mean to rub it in, I'm sorry," you cradle him to your side and press a kiss to the top of his head. "I just really can't believe it."

You look out the window and sigh. “Do you know Bo-Katan?” You ask the baby who can’t really answer you. He warbles softly. “Is she a good lady? Is she nice and trustworthy? She’ll keep him safe for us?” You look at Grogu again, but he’s asleep next to you. Fell asleep listening to your voice. 

You love Grogu. A real love. Dying for this child would be something you’d do easily. If you knew it would protect him. Grogu snuggles into you as you tuck him into the blankets and snuggle in yourself. It’s hard on the floor. It reminds you of the Crest and your mat. It makes you think of the first time Din ever touched you in the dark.

Sleep comes to you with all the blues and purples streaking overhead. 

“Little one..." Din's calm and quiet voice whispers in your ear as you feel him climb into the makeshift bed on the floor. “It’s me.” He sinks beside you and rests his head on your chest. “Touch my hair.” More quiet, non-modulated whispering.

You bring one hand sleepily to his messy, dark curls and twirl your fingers in it mindlessly. Din sighs, and relaxes against you. The child is still on the other side of you asleep. You’ve got your other arm wrapped around him.

“Is your nose okay?” You whisper to Din through a yawn. “Did I break it?” You try to sound apologetic in your sleepiness because you do feel bad. You never want to hurt Din.

Unless he’s trying to spar or fight you.

He had been being so sweet and trying to show you his face, and you hit him all because of Bo-Katan. 

“It’s fine.” Din murmurs from your chest, like he could be falling asleep. “Not broken.” A sigh and he’s got one hand on your stomach, touching your belly button under the blankets, tracing around it slowly. “W-Want to see?” You feel his body shake softly like he’s laughing.

The weight of his head lifts from your chest. You tilt your head and Din is looking up at you. He’s got one black eye and there’s blood still crusted under one nostril. You laugh at him and let your head fall back to the pillows. 

“Are you sure it’s not broken?” You smirk, your hands still in his hair. “You’re so handsome, even with the black eye and the blood.”

Din chuckles and pulls you into him by your waist, “C’mere.”

You make him rest his head back on your chest and continue to spin his hair in your fingers. You think of his face and how you just saw it and it felt so much more natural and exactly how you had wanted him to show you. Casual. Din cares. You can feel it in your heart now. “Perfect and beautiful.” You whisper into the blue-tinted darkness. “You are.” You wait for a response but Din’s already asleep on your chest. 

The next morning, Din pulls the hood over your head and covers Grogu with your robes. The child is sitting comfortably in his little bag that’s slung over your shoulder. You watch Din’s helmet as he focuses. 

“Am I going to hear any news that might upset me?” You smirk up at him as he clasps the robe closed around your neck with a small metal pin. His helmet snaps up and you can feel his eyes on you. His perfect dark eyes. 

“Stop that.” Din presses his forehead to yours. “No. Maybe. I don’t know?” He sighs, “You can’t get angry with me anymore. It’s the rules.” Then he shrugs his shoulders like he has no say in the matter. 

“You make the rules!” You exclaim.

Din nods down at you as he pulls away. “So follow them. Listen to me. Stay close.” Din rattles off more instructions as you walk down the ramp together.

This planet is nice. It’s got a nice town center and Din leads you down a stone pathway.

“Don’t stray, please.” His gloved hand reaches out for you as you take a couple of steps forward.

It’s been such a long time since you’ve been in a place with so many things, places and people to look at, it's hard to not be overwhelmed and want to explore. The city looks like it's in the process of being rebuilt, buildings are in the process of rising higher into the sky

“This is Nevarro?” You ask, looking up at Din as he looks around in the crowds.

He nods and keeps his head swiveling back and forth, observing. "It used to be a hub for pirates and the Bounty Hunter Guild, but the High Magistrate is trying to change that now." He leads you to a droid statue that’s standing tall in the center of town. "Make it nicer for the citizens that live here."

"That's very nice of the High Magistrate," you continue to watch the people walking by, and the buildings and shops that line the street.

“He’s what we came here for.” Din points at the nonoperational droid now in front of you. 

“What’d you need him for?” You raise an eyebrow and shield your eyes from the sun as you look up at the droid Din pointed to. “He’s a statue.” You point that part out to him.

Din tilts his head down to you. It’s almost like you can sense that his patience with you is worn thin already. You smile regardless, because you've seen his face, and he wouldn't show his face to just anyone. It brings you a sense of pride to know that he trusts you, cares for you enough to have let you see him like that.

and bring your hand back to your side. It slips into your robe and you rub your fingers along Grogu’s ears. He gives you a satisfied sound of enjoyment as you do. 

“Where are we going now?” You ask Din excitedly as he leads you into the crowd. His strong hand finds your upper arm and he holds you close to him. “Are we going somewhere nice? Ooh! Somewhere we can get food!?” You exclaim, seeing a bakery. “Din. Din. Din. Din.” You point to the tarts and sweets in the window excitedly.

Din pushes you past the bakery, obviously in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Okay… But I want to go there before we leave.” You look back at it over your shoulder. It’s been so long since you’ve had anything that wasn’t a bowl of broth or rations. 

“Fine. We have to be somewhere now though.” Din continues to lead you through the crowd. You catch people's eyes and smile at them politely. It’s nice to be out in the world again. Not on a ship caring for a child or in a Jedi temple getting whacked with sticks. It feels good to be integrated with the galaxy again. Not just looking at it through windows. 

“Mando!” A voice calls out from behind you. You and Din both spin around. “I heard you were back, but I didn’t believe it.” The man in gold and red robes booms as he walks towards you. 

“Magistrate Karga.” Din rasps from behind the modulator. Your eyes look up to Din as he talks. You’re unsure if he likes this person yet.

“That’s High Magistrate to you.” The man laughs and slaps Din on the shoulder. 

“My aliit.” Din speaks a word of Mando’a that you’re not familiar with as he gestures to you. You’ll ask later. Grogu peeks out from behind the robe as the four of you walk into the building Din had been leading you to before the Magistrate stopped you.

Din walks with Karga up the stairs and they speak quietly to one another. You follow with Grogu still behind your robes. They lead you into a large room with a giant balcony. The High Magistrate motions for you and Grogu to sit in the chair behind his desk as he and Din walk outside the doors and look over the city.

Grogu climbs out of the bag and sits in your lap. You’re suddenly being spun around slowly. You see Grogu holding his little hand out. You try to stop him, push his hand down into his lap or something but your chair is still spinning. You put your feet down onto the floor to try and halt yourself but you just end up kicking a metal trash can from under the desk with a loud crash. 

The chair slows down and when it finally stops, Din and the Magistrate are staring at you. Grogu’s head won’t stop turning from side to side like he is still moving. You’re still dizzy, if we’re being completely honest. The room is still moving in your eyes and you just smile at Din and Karga. Holding Grogu in your lap. The trash can is still spinning beside you. 

“Sorry. It’s hard to stop him when he’s focused on something.” It comes out stuttered and nervous. “He’s just…bein’ a kid.” You pet the top of Grogu’s head softly and he makes a purring warble you’ve never heard before. You look down at him and he’s chewing on something from the Magistrates desk. “I am…so sorry.” You press your lips together tightly and attempt to take whatever the child has in his mouth away from him but he holds on tight. “Do not...embarrass me.” You whisper into his ear and pull– what you come to find is a tracking beacon– out of his mouth and set it back onto the desk in a puddle of slimy saliva. “So so sorry.” 

Din hasn’t moved, or stopped looking in your direction once since he and Karga turned around.

The Magistrate looks at you up and down and then at the child in your lap. “...as I was saying… There’s a lot of money to be made on Nevarro. Set you and your group up in a nice tract over by the hot springs.” Karga points out over the small town and out onto the edge of the city. “You, the woman, the child. Hang up your blasters. Live off the fat of the land.” 

Is that why Din brought you here? To settle down? You’d have absolutely no issues with that at all. Being Din’s woman and Grogu’s mother doesn’t sound half bad. Sounds all good, actually. You see nothing wrong with this and love that Din brought you here to live with him. He’s so smart. Take his helmet off, settle down. You can try to bake tarts and sweets and breads like in the shoppe you passed earlier. 

“Grogu.” Din says curtly.

Karga looks at him oddly and then flicks his eyes at you. “Huh?” The Magistrate looks you up and down again like he can’t believe that’s your name. 

“His name is Grogu.” Din turns again and walks to you, taking the child out of your arms; leaving you just sitting in that nice comfy, spinning chair. All alone. Din walks back to Karga and holds him up. “Grogu.”

Karga curls a lip lightly and looks back at you once more before turning back to the town below him. “If you say so,” he doesn’t sound amused. “Like I said, there is a beautiful parcel down by the flats.” 

“I appreciate the offer, but I have matters to attend to.” Din explains, less curt and more in his normal, raspy soft tone.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. It was too good to be true. You knew it deep down inside you wouldn’t be staying here. Even if you do want to bake tarts and sew Grogu new robes in a nice little house with a yard to play in. 

“Oh? I’m…confused. I thought your mission was over, but you’re still with the chi—Grogu, and the woman I've heard about. They're still with you.” Karga waves a hand at you like you’re not there.

You sit quietly and watch, just happy to be involved. Happy to not be stuck on the ship, so they can talk about you like you're not here— because you could not be here. And you don't want it to go back to that.

“I completed my quest. My aliit returned to me. I removed my helmet and now I’m an apostate.” Your head turns to Din now, looking at him now instead of Karga. 

“All the more reason for you to stay here. Where you come from, you may be an apostate but here…but here you’d be landed gentry.” The Magistrate explains to Din as he looks down from the balcony. 

Karga is right and Din should listen to him. Stay here, on Nevarro. Din can watch as you bake him tarts and play with Grogu. It’ll be perfect. 

The door to the room opens and a droid walks in. Karga groans at the intrusion and lets his head fall back in frustration. The droid explains that there are pirates in the courtyard.

You stand but Din puts his hand on your shoulder and hands Grogu back to you. 

“Stay here. Don’t move.” Din sits you back down in your chair with the child.

You humph quietly, and are left alone in the High Magistrate's office.

There is a commotion down below the balcony right outside. You go to look because Din isn’t here to tell you not to. The balcony isn’t high, maybe three or four stories up. The wind blows the hood of your head as you peek over. You’re watching as Karga and Din walk side by side down the road in the center of the courtyard. They stop at a group of mismatched pirates outside of a building. You can’t hear what they say. 

Karga steps in front of Din and begins to speak to the pirates. Just talking. Din leans against a tree a couple of feet back from him and watches. They just talk for a while. Nothing crazy and then the pirate Karga has all his attention on; walks out into the street with his hands held out down to his sides. He speaks. You wish you could hear what he was saying. Din pushes himself off the tree he’s leaning against and takes two steps forward as the pirate talks to the High Magistrate. You swallow hard as Karga pulls his red and gold robes back away from his hip. You can see the blaster pistol strapped to his thigh even from all the way up here on the balcony. 

It’s so tense. People run past them on the street below you, a woman shouts for her kids to come inside. You swallow hard again as your free hand– the one not holding Grogu to your chest for dear life– grips the stone railing of the balcony. Everyone below looks like they’re frozen in place they’re still for so long. Your heart is pounding in your throat and then it happens. They both reach for their pistols but High Magistrate Karga is faster and unholsters his weapon, aims, and shoots all before the pirate can get his pistol up to his chest. Karga disarms him; shooting the blaster pistol right out of his hand. You let out a long sigh of relief as you can hear Karga say loudly enough,

“Tell Capitan Gorian Shard that Nevarro is no longer friendly to pirates. Now get outta here.” 

There is no movement from anyone below you. It makes your heart almost beat so fast you can’t feel it. Din moves his hand slowly to the blaster pistol on his waist and you hold your breath as you know what’s about to come. It happens so fast that you almost miss it when you blink. The rest of the pirates withdraw their weapons but Karga already has his own pistol out and Din had been fingering the trigger on his for at least thirty seconds before the pirates even reached to draw. Every single one of the pirates fell to the street except for the one Karga had disarmed first. The one he had been speaking to originally. 

The High Magistrate speaks again but you can’t hear him anymore. The pirate takes off running down the stone-laid street in the opposite direction. Din turns his head and sees you on the balcony. You wiggle your fingers at him from way up in the air and turn around, back into the office you were left in.

You set Grogu down in the chair and watch as he picks up little orange pieces of candy from a bowl on the desk and brings them to his mouth with the Force. 

“You cheat. You’re a cheater.” You say to him as you grab yourself a handful of candy and begin to pace, tossing them into your mouth as you think. They crunch delightfully between your teeth with a sugary coating and then the inside is fruity and chewy– you need to find out where the High Magistrate got these– they’re phenomenal. 

Din’s not taking any offer of land on Nevarro. It makes you sad but you enjoy your time on the ship. That’s your home, even if it doesn’t really feel like one. You live there, make memories there. Watch the child learn new things. You learn new things too. Inside the ship, you learn about Din. He wants to teach you how to pilot. You’ve seen his face even if it was all beaten and bloody by your elbow. Maybe Nevarro isn’t where you’re supposed to settle down if that was ever even an option. You don’t know.

You also need to learn more Mando’a. What had Din said to Karga and did Karga even know what he called you?

Grogu ate all of the candy out of the bowl on Karga’s desk. You may have helped- it was too good. You just kept scooping up handfuls and handfuls mindlessly as you paced his office. Grogu watched you from his place in the chair. 

“What did Din come here for? Did he tell you? I think he tells you more than he tells me.”

Grogu watches as you stand in front of the desk and talk to him.

“What does he need a broken-down droid for anyway? From what I can remember him saying long ago, he doesn't like droids...or they don't like him...or something about a dislike between Din Djarin and droids?” You rest your hands on the desk and lean into Grogu. “C’mon, kid... you've gotta give me something! Anything! What are we doin-”

The door to the office opens and you snap up, taking your hands off the desk. You bring them back up behind you and turn to see Din and High Magistrate Karga walking in. 

“Sorry about that, Mrs…” Karga looks at you and then glances back at Din, who says nothing to correct him. “Mrs.” He finishes. “Just had a couple of things to take care of.” He smiles at you apologetically for leaving you here in his office. You shake your head and take a small step to the left, showing him the empty bowl where candy used to be.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. Grogu ate all your candy.” It’s a lie. You ate it all. You couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Oh, it’s easy to get. They have it in stock down at the shop on the main road. I’ll send a droid to get more. Don’t worry.” Karga smiles at you, taking a couple of steps towards you. “Miss. Mando, it was a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard plenty about how exceptional you are with the ch-with Grogu while Din is away. Impressive. He’s a handful from what I can remember.” Karga is an attractive man, older with a dark complexion. His facial hair is white and contrasts beautifully against his skin. 

“Thank you.” You can feel yourself blushing for all different sorts of reasons. “He’s definitely a lot. Fun though. And a good bug catcher if I ever need one.” You smile up at Karga as he places a hand on your shoulder. 

“Don’t let Mando keep you out in the stars too long. Try to get him to accept my offer once he’s done with whatever matters he’s attending to.” It’s said quietly as if Karga didn’t want Din to hear him say that to you. Doesn’t matter, Din’s clearing his throat because he did. 

“Those service droids should have brought IG-11 in now, yes?” Din asks, walking to Grogu. He picks him up and cradles him in the crook of his elbow. Karga nods and keeps his hand on your shoulder as he leads you down the stairs. 

“I offered him the marshall position here in Nevarro.” The High Magistrate explains, again hushed as Grogu and Din follow behind. “If you can get him to change his mind, I’d also have a job for you here. There is plenty that needs to be done. You wouldn't be forgotten about, Miss. Mando.” 

Karga takes his hand from your shoulder and leads you all into a room. The top half of the droid statue Din showed you earlier is lying on a slab of metal in the center of the room. 

“Huh.” You look back at Din as he hands you the child. “You’re gonna fix it?” Din nods. You watch Din start pulling on wires, and removing things from the inoperative droid. “We need a droid I trust to help us explore Mandalore. This is that droid.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. We. Us. Mandalore. What’s he talking about?

“There. He’s hooked up to power.” Din says as you hold the child in your arms next to him. “Let’s see if we can wake him up.”

“Isn’t this an assassin droid?” Nervously, you look up at Din. He nods. “What are we doing with it then?” 

“Before I met you he was the one who took care of the child.” Din explains. He presses two wires together but nothing happens. You watch the droid's head and wait for movement, holding Grogu against you tightly. Nothing. 

“There you go.” Karga laughs and points to the droids pinchers at the end of his arms. 

“S-subparagraph sixteen-teen-teen of the B-B-Bondsman G-Guild p-protocal waiver.” IG-11 stutters as it sits up, its head twisting and turning right to you and Grogu. “Immediately p-produce said…” You look at Din with worry in your eyes as you turn the child away from the droid. IG-11 reaches for Grogu and you turn further away from it. “That b-b-bounty is mine.” You’re taking steps back but the droid has fallen off the slab and to the floor and is now crawling towards you. “Terminate asset. Terminate asset.” It’s repeating itself over and over. Now Din is shooting at it with his blaster pistol but it does nothing to stop the attacker directly in front of you.

“Miss. Mando!” Karga calls out as IG-11 reaches for and clasps around your ankle. It’s squeezing so tightly you’re sure it’s going to break your bones. It’s happening so fast. Karga holds his hands out and you toss Grogu to him. The droid immediately lets go of your ankle and starts crawling towards Karga with determination.

“Terminate asset.” IG-11 repeats over and over.

“Shoot it!” You shout at Din who is already shooting at it. The droid is about to pass under a large bust of High Magistrate Karga. Another droid, not IG-11 pushes the bust off the pillar it’s resting on and it falls onto the head of IG. 

“That’s one way to use your head.”

You stand next to Din with Grogu in your arms. You’re watching the Anzellans work on IG-11. Your ankle still hurts and you’re sure it’s probably already bruised. The little creature in front of you starts to talk in his native language. You understand everything and nod your head, pursing your lips together. 

“Huh.” You keep nodding.

“Uh…okay. I don’t understand. Do you speak Huttese?” Din shifts uncomfortably next to you. You look up at him with raised eyebrows.

“He said it broke.” You motion to the small creature who is still talking intermittently with the other Anzellans. You nod as you listen to them carefully.

“That’s no good. I need this one. This one is my friend.” Din speaks slowly to the creatures working on the droid so they’ll understand him.

“Mhm. Yeah…Okay.” You keep listening to the little creature speak. “Yeah. No. The memory circuit is busted. He said this droid is not your friend anymore.” You look up at Din. 

“How do you know what he’s saying?” He asks curiously. “Tell him to put in a new one.”

“I learned things while on Canto Bight.” You turn your nose up at him. “I know things.” You look back at the little creature and smile. You ask very nicely if he can put in a new memory circuit. The little man speaks up to you quickly. “Mhm.. really? Okay. Okay. No? Ohhhhh, okay.” You look back at Din and shake your head. “Not happening. The part you need is too hard to find. They don’t make them anymore. He said to buy a new droid. This one is…” You look back at the Anzellan in front of you and raise an eyebrow. He mutters something and you nod. “Poodoo.”You nod at Din. 

“Can they fix him without the memory circuit?” Din’s annoyed. The little creature pipes up now so Din can hear him. 

“Yeah. IG no think. No think.” His little accent is so cute. Din sighs.

“What if I bring you the part?” Din looks back at the little creature. 

“Oh. Then no problem. We fix.” The little man looks up at Din and says it so he can understand. 

“He said he can-” You start but Din shoots you a look. Grogu throws one of the Anzellan's wrenches across the room. He must have picked it up when you leaned over to listen and translate for Din. 

“I’m so sorry about that.” You apologize and reach for the wrench but Grogu grabs a chain hanging from the ceiling and pulls it as you walk by. It rattles loudly and something from above falls down to the ground. The Anzellans start to mutter again in their own language. “No. No. He’s not a pet. He’s a baby. He’s just young!” Now all the little creatures surround you as Grogu looks down at them from your arms. 

“Bad baby.” One of the little creatures says. Grogu throws another wrench you didn’t even know he had down at the creatures. They all scream and go running. 

“Yeah, he’s  a bad baby!” You growl down at Grogu who is still watching the Anzellans scatter down by your feet. “So bad.” 

Grogu is back in his bag. You have a bag of orange candy in one hand and a box of baked goods in the other hand. 

“Aren’t you so glad we stopped? They had those tarts! The same one from the market so long ago.” You look up at Din who is focused on getting you back into the ship. Din shakes his head and sighs. 

“Are you glad we stopped?” He looks down at you, one hand on your lower back as he gently pushes you through the crowd. You nod happily and lead him back to the ship. “Then I’m glad. C’mon. Speed up a little.” Din pushes his hand into your back and steps directly behind you. One gloved hand slides down and cups your ass while you're walking. It makes you blush. 

“What are you doing?” You whisper. Din doesn’t say anything, just gives your ass a nice squeeze or two before his hand moves to your back again. “Do it again.” You look around to see if anyone’s watching but no one is looking at you. Din slides his hand back down to your cheek, gripping it tightly as he presses his chest into your back. 

“Being bad.” He rasps into your ear as he continues to push you towards the ship.

Grogu is asleep in his bed. Din is waiting for you in the ship's dining area when you walk out after changing into your nightgown. 

“You look strong.” Din nods as you reach into the cupboard for your orange candy. You smirk and flex your bicep for him. 

“I’m getting lazy here on this ship with you. Eating candy and sweets.” You smirk at him and sit down at the table. You watch him puttering around with something from his beskar. The question you want to ask is a little scary, you don’t know if you want the answer. You ask anyway. “What does ‘aliit’mean?” The candy is just as good as it was in High Magistrate Karga’s office. “You called me that when you introduced me.” Munching happily on your sweets. Din doesn’t answer you for a couple of moments. 

“It means family.” The helmet tilts up to you and you freeze with a piece of candy in your hand. “I hope that it’s okay. Me addressing you like that.” Din looks at you. You toss the candy back into the bag and look at him. 

“Is that what we are to you? Grogu and I?” Din places his hand on yours as you speak and nods. “Then it’s fine. I like it.” A smile spreads across your face. “I liked Miss. Mando better but, it’s fine.” You tease as Din squeezes your hand gently. 

“C’mon. I wanna do something.” Din pulls you up from the table and leads you into the entry hull of the ship.

“What now? What could The Mandalorian want now?” Din tilts his head down to you and starts to unbutton the top of your nightgown. You watch and smirk down at him. “Ohh, what The Mandalorian always wants.” Din presses his forehead against yours as he slides the fabric off your shoulders. 

“You look strong enough for it now.” He rasps quietly.

Frowning, you pull your head away from his but his hands on your shoulders keep you close. “Strong enough for what? Do I want to know?” You’re nervous now. 

“I was too worried before. That I’d hurt you.” Din rasps from the modulator and pulls you in close, and presses his forehead against yours. “I didn’t want to hurt you but I think you can do it now.”

You’re still frowning. Hurt you? Do it? What is he talking about?

“What do you mean?” Din takes his helmet off and looks down at you and you almost cover your eyes with your hands but you remember you’ve seen it. He’s just as handsome as you remember. Even with a black eye. 

“Let me show you.” Looking at him while his non-modulated voice speaks is like standing under a waterfall you imagine. The weight of it just presses you into yourself. You feel so encapsulated by the deepness and softness and beauty of it. It drowns out all the other sounds you could hear.

Everything happens so fast. Somehow, the both of you are completely naked, even his helmet is off, and he has you sitting on the edge of the table in the dining area— his two thickest and longest fingers pumping in and out of you slowly, stretching you open for what you've been waiting so long for.

Din's forehead is resting against yours, his other hand is wrapped around the back of your neck holding you close to him as he pushes you closer and closer to that edge.

For the first time since you've met him- Din hasn't stopped talking.

"Don't want to hurt you," he whispers, his eyes locked onto yours. "Never want to hurt you."

You capture his words on your tongue and let them slide down your throat, and moan your own wanton desires out to him, "Want you to."

Din pulls back only an inch, giving you a perplexed look as his fingers curl against that spot inside of you once again, the heel of his palm now pressed and rubbing against your clit while he eases you back onto your elbows.

"Really, ad'ika? You want that?" His fingers move faster at the idea of bringing you some sort of pain that mingles with your pleasure.

The words what does that mean, leave your lips, but they're laced in with a moan, and a shiver through your whole body that makes it hard to actually speak.

"Means 'little one'," Din leans over your torso, his chest flush against yours. "You're my little one, yes? My ad'ika?"

Din is so beautiful. If you could etch his beauty into the back of your eyelids so he could be seen whenever you closed them, you would. You'd give all the credits you have saved, you would give years off your life just to know that there would be a place where you could look at him forever.

He was handsome in the dark that night when he showed you, but right now— it's well lit, and there is no sleepiness clouding your vision or hindering your ability to really be excited to drink him in.

And Din lets you. It's like he knows you're trying to memorize his face before he has to put that foresaken fucking helmet back on, so he's letting you take him in, hear him unmodulated— and watching him speak is like a work of art.

"Are you?" He questions, his fingers stalling their movements inside of you. His brown eyes haven't left yours since he got you on the table, it felt like he couldn't look away- even if he did want to.

Swallowing hard, you nod up to him- because you are his. You've been his for so long.

"Say it," his voice is stern, and he doesn't curl his fingers inside of you again, he pushes them further than he has yet, and it makes your eyes flutter.

"I'm yours."

The words leave your lips and Din withdraws his fingers from you, and places them into your mouth.

"Suck," he murmurs, placing himself between your legs. So you do, tasting yourself on his fingers, teasing him with your tongue between space between them.

The table feels like ice under your buttocks, but it's such a stark contrast to the heat radiating off Din between your thighs. Every single atom or fiber, or cell— whatever is holding you together as a person— is quivering. It's shaking like you might vibrate off the edge of the table.

"Ad'ika, are you ready?" Din whispers, pulling his fingers from your mouth and placing them into his. He half hums, half moans at the taste of you still lingering.

"I'm ready," you nod, eyes glued to his mouth. Everything inside of you is telling you to look down so you can watch him notch himself at your entrance for the first time, but you can't pull your gaze away from his face.

Din finally pulls his eyes away from yours, because he wants to watch. You're both trembling, you can feel it in the hand on the back of your neck. It feels time stops, both of you are still, just the heaving of your chests, and Din rubbing the tip of him along your soaked slit.

"Put it in," you whine quietly, eyes still locked onto his face, watching him lick his lips in anticipation.

Din's eyes flick up to yours, and a half smirk plays across his lips, "Ad'ika, I've waited just as long as you—"

"Put it inside," you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him into you.

Din leans in and presses a kiss, a real one- his lips to your forehead, very softly before he pushes just the tip inside of you.

It's breathtaking- you gasp at the sudden stretch and burn as he opens you up for him. With you jaw hanging open, and no sound coming out of your mouth you finally sit up and look down at him lewdly splitting you open around his throbbing, veiny length.

"Maker…"

"Maker…"

Both of you breathe the word simultaneously.

Then a soft whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it as Din pushes another inch of himself inside of you.

Din's eyes flash up from where he's pushing further into your dripping hole, to your eyes. "I'm hurting you?" He frowns, his brows furrowed together slightly.

You shake your head, then nod, and then shake your head from side to side again rapidly, "S'really good, please d-don't stop." You plead with him quickly, reaching out for him in any capacity.

Din's hand leaves the base of his cock where he had been holding it, and finds yours still searching for something to hold on to. He wraps your fingers around the back of his neck and they tangle in the mess of his loose, brown curls.

"Don't stop?" Din questions, his second hand now coming to the back of your neck to wrap around the one he still has there.

"Please don't stop," you confirm, beg, plead for him to move, to give you some sort of friction or satisfaction around the immense burn still happening as you mold to fit him inside you. "Please, p-please, Din—"

Din answers your supplications with a firm snap forward of his hips and he's entered you completely. His hips flush against yours.

The pained, moaned sound that's torn from your throat is loud, and it doesn't sound like it feels good— even though you want this. This is pain you're willing to give him— willing to go through to be close to him. It doesn't matter, it's a pain that stings in the sweetest way.

Din's eyes narrow on yours, a silent command for you to give him another confirmation that you still want this- that you still want him to hurt you just a little until it morphs into pure bliss.

You nod, mouth still hanging open silently.

Din groans, resting his forehead against yours once again, seemingly pleased with your silent need for more. "Fuck, little one, sucking me in so fucking good… Maker," he sighs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "You're so soft and warm, like I knew you would be."

All you can do is stare up at him, with tears in your eyes- mostly from the discomfort that has yet to settle into something you think you'll be able to enjoy. You'll will yourself to fit around him— you don't care because you love Din. You love him so much, and you wish you could say those words to him— but it's so fucking terrifying, and there are some scared tears in your eyes too.

All these feelings, and now this, this intense wave of new adoration for this man who usually dons beskar and a helmet, naked between your thighs right now. Din migrates his kisses to your cheeks, and the side of your face as his mouth settles directly in front of your ear.

"Shhhh, don't cry, please don't cry— it'll feel good soon, little one."

It feels like a promise as he pulls his hips back from yours slowly.

"Ohhhh fuck," you clench your eyes shut tight, and grip the hair at the base of his neck even tighter, as if that'll keep him in place, keep his massive length from leaving you fully.

"That's it," he coaxes, his thumbs rubbing circles at the base of your jaw, his fingers still intertwined around your neck.

"Take me, take every inch." He rocks forward then, and you whine at the movement, your entire body heating up from the inside out.

You can't think, can barely breathe, consumed by his intimidating size and the pressure of his body against yours, surrounding you completely.

"You're so perfect for me," Din praises, voice low and rough. "So beautiful and tight, and fucking perfect." He grunts.

He starts thrusting then, languid movements that have you arching up into him, feeling overwhelmed by too many sensations. "This okay?" he asks, voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I'll stop-"

Pleasure starts to peek through the veil of discomfort, winding its way up your spine until you're gasping, high and breathy. "Din, Din, fuck," You babble, hands scrabbling for a hold on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "Don't stop— don't stop, p-please keep going."

He groans at that, hips stuttering. His rhythm falters but doesn't cease, picking up speed. "Greedy girl," he teases. "It feels good now?"

"Yes," you sigh.

"Good, c'mon on."

Din has both hands pressed against the wall of this new ship by his waist. The bend in your knees is draped over both of his forearms and he’s holding you against the wall. Your back is pressed against it and your hips are pulled away, supported by Din. 

His thrusts into you are not gentle or feather touches like the first night he woke you up in the dark. The loud smacking of skin against skin and your dripping cunt echo in the empty, quiet ship every time Din slams his hips into yours. He’s slamming them so hard your back moves up and down on the wall behind you. You're slick with sweat. 

Din wasn’t wrong when he said he would have hurt you before. The man cannot hold himself back now that he’s inside you again. He held back on the dining table, but he cannot anymore.

One of your hands is behind his neck, holding onto him tightly. You can feel him at your cervix, it’s a shock when he drives his hips into you. Din’s pushing every sound and every single ounce of air out of you. You are a squeaking mess against the wall behind you. The only sound coming out of you as he’s fucking you is a strained, small, quiet little pant with the tiniest exclaim of pleasure that your body can find inside of you. Your eyes are closed tightly, the grip on the back of his neck has got to be hurting him because what he’s doing to you is sending a completely new tsunami of goodness through you. These are not waves. 

It’s been one big orgasm since he started these thrusts into you. You haven't stopped. You’re dripping down Din’s thighs you’re so fucking wet. His sounds of pleasure are filthy. Deep grunts from his chest and guttural moans, unable to control how hard he fucks you. 

"You like this?” Din grunts deeply at you. All you can do is nod. “Say it.” He’s demanding it, no stutter, no soft voice of amazement or awe. He’s fucking up into you so deeply, “Say it," Din demands, needing your voice.

“Yes.” You finally find enough air inside you to force it out. Your head is spinning and you haven’t been able to form one clear thought since you and Din watched him slide his cock into you for the first time. You couldn’t even speak over the feeling of it stretching you. It felt like it was going to split you in half at first. 

“Yes, what?” More thrusts into you, quickly knocking you back against the wall each time, your sweat keeps you sliding up and down in rhythm with him. Din’s being so aggressive. You got a little tiny taste of it the other night when he face fucked you, but he held back then. He’s not holding back now.

“Y-yes. I-I l-love it.” You’re stuttering with each smack of his hips against yours. Din’s thrusts get faster as you speak to him like you’re the one controlling how fast and how hard he moves. 

“Say forever.” Another guttural demand forced out between hard upward slams of his hips into yours. 

“Oh my Mak- For-ever,” It comes from somewhere deep inside you like he just forced it from within you with those thrusts.

“Little one-” He’s looking down between you now, watching his hard cock disappear into your velvety wetness as he bucks his hips up into yours. The base of him is gleaming in your leaking slickness. It makes him groan, watching it. Encourages him to move faster. “-so per-fect.” He draws the word out, his forehead finds your shoulder. 

You’re suspended in the air, you can no longer even find the energy inside of you any more to keep your head up. It’s leaned back against the metal wall. Your eyes are closed as he rips another orgasm out of you. You don’t even make a sound when it happens. The only way he knows is by the walls of your cunt tightening and squeezing around his cock thrusting inside of you.

“That’s a good girl.” It’s another low guttural sound in your ear. “Love w-when you come on me. Love feeling you c-come.” You’re obsessed, love when he calls you a good girl and tells you to come on him. It’s the soundtrack you want to fall asleep to when he’s gone. 

Then he’s withdrawing from you. Your feet touch the ground before you can even comprehend what’s happening. Din’s hands are on your waist, turning you. He puts his hand flat on the wall from behind you. 

“Hands.” It’s a guided instruction on what Din wants you to do. You follow it, placing both of your hands on the wall. “Beautiful.” He’s still behind you, hands on your hips again, pulling them back against him. Din’s feet kick yours apart gently and you let him open you up. Then he’s pushing himself back into you.

The sounds your skin makes when he jackhammers into you are obscene. Like someone’s being beaten up. You are being beaten up...technically. You’ve never ever been fucked like this before. Your supple mounds bounce below you as he rams himself into you over and over. 

“Perfect— everything about you is perfect. Your cunt, your mouth... your ass,” he grunts, checking the list in his head aloud as he fucks you. "All so beautiful.” Then you hear his mouth wetly suck something from behind you, and the thoughts of what he’s doing run through your head. He presses his thumb against your puckered hole. “I want it. Can I t-take it? Please?” Din grunts, but is still being so polite while he thrusts into you angrily.  

“Yes.” You’re able to whimper out. You want him to take it too, thinking back to the time he used the Amban on you. “Take it.” Whimpered again.

“My little one,” he whispers as he slips the tip of his thumb into you. 

The pleasure between your legs completely masks any pain that might have happened when he did that because you don’t feel a thing. Just being stretched around his digit. The feeling of fullness as he rests the rest of his fingers just above your ass. He pushes it in deeper and holds it there as he continues to slam against you, again the sounds in the ship are salacious and filthy. Wet-smacking skin, your choked on sobs of bliss as he made you come once more. 

“Fuck.” He groans and his hand grips your hip tightly. “Fuck, take it. Fucking take it.” His thrusts become more staggered and sloppy. Din slams himself into you one last time and then holds himself against you, still grinding his hips into yours. You can feel him twitch and throb inside of you as he releases.

You’re ebbing off your orgasm for the seventeenth time. One last thrust of his hips to fully empty himself. He’s quivering. It makes you smile as you rest your forehead against the hull. 

“Perfect.” Din’s out of breath but uses what he’s got left in his lungs to let you know. His forehead finds the center of your shoulder blades. He’s sweating.

You can feel him leave his sticky sweat on your back when he stands, slowly and carefully pulling himself from within you. You groan at the empty feeling, his spend dripping down your thigh.

You stay, leaning up against the wall like that until his hands pull you away from it. 

“I can’t.” You gasp. “Oh, my Ma-ker.” Another forced-out gasp of approval of what he’s just done to you. “I can’t. Tired. Sore.” You whine as you push yourself off the wall. 

“Tired. Bed. Sleep. Perfect. Beautiful.” Another list in his head that he audibly checks off to you as he leads you backward towards the softest sheets and the most perfect bed on the floor as long as Din is beside you. 

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux @harriedandharassed @realmamabear79 @blahkateisdone @picketniffler @cheekychaos28 @lilac-boo @pedrostories

let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list!!! (I'm also sorry if i forgot anyone, I am trying to be good for you all.

[joelalorian]

Under False Pretenses - Chapter Eleven

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 4924 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and an unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap. Soft, sexy, and intense Dave. Nicknames and terms of endearment. Cursing. Secret spy shit is not so secret anymore - Dave clues you in on nearly everything. Angst. Smut - somno PiV.. Injuries to human and dog. Vengeful Dave.

Series Masterlist

Dave raced back to town after dropping the girls off at their grandparents’ with a half-baked explanation and teary goodbyes. Over the years, they learned not to ask too many questions and happily took the girls. On the way, he called Ari.

“What’s up, boss?”

“I just left the girls with Carol’s parents. They haven’t seen them in a while and plan to take them to the Poconos for the week,” Dave explained.

“Good. I’m glad they’re safe and out of the way,” Ari replied. After a long pause, he added, “That’s not all you called for, is it?”

Dave sighed. “No. No, it’s not.”

“I’ve got eyes on her, don’t worry,” Ari said, reading him like a book. “I’ll let you know the moment something seems off.”

“I’m trusting you, Ari. She’s…”

“I know, boss. She’s important to you. That’s all I need to know. I’m on it.” Ari ended the call, leaving Dave to focus on strategizing for the upcoming meeting with Roger, Anna, and their mystery asset he believed in his heart was McCall.

An hour later, Dave had just pulled into the garage when his phone buzzed with an incoming call. “What do you have?” he greeted the caller.

“He’s still on her,” Ari’s voice came through the line, clipped and urgent. “Saw him near the coffee shop as she popped in. He’s following her to the park now. It’s McCall, no question.”

“Dammit!” Dave slammed his palm against the steering wheel, jaw clenched. “How close?”

“Too close for comfort,” Ari replied. “York, he’s not being subtle, either. Almost like he wants her to notice, for it to get back to you.”

His blood pressure spiked again. “He’s fucking toying with me. Stay on them. Don’t let her out of your sight. I don’t want him getting near her again.”

“You got it, boss,” Ari replied, his tone grim. “Want me to tell the boys to stock the safe house?”

“Yeah, you know the drill.”

“Will it just be the two of you or…”

“Just us. I called it off with Lisa last night. She can fucking fend for herself. Her car isn’t here anyway.” Dave ended the call, his mind racing. He couldn’t leave you exposed. He shouldn’t have left you alone this morning, but he had to take care of the girls first.

McCall was sending a message, and the longer he waited to act, the more danger you were in.

Dave raced inside. The house was empty as he packed an overnight bag to stash with his go bag in the back of the SUV. He went to your room next, shoving a bunch of stuff into a suitcase, careful to grab the things he knew you needed like that lotion you used and your favorite hoodie. He grabbed supplies for Ranger as well.

When everything was loaded in his SUV, Dave finally took a breath and texted you.

Dave: Can you come home? I need to talk to you.

You read his message right away but took your damned time responding. He could see the little dots appear and disappear, only to reappear again as you tried to come up with a response. Finally, after a lifetime of suspense, his phone buzzed.

You: Ok be there in 10

Those were the ten longest minutes of his life as he waited for you. Dave spent the entire time pacing, hating himself for how dismissive he was with you the evening before. You didn’t deserve that. He’d been so focused on protecting his girls that he didn’t have the mental capacity for anything else. Unfortunately, that left you getting the short end of the stick, and he deeply regretted that.

The sound of your car in the driveway set his nerves at ease. Until he saw your face as you entered the house, that was.

Dave could see at once that your walls were up. Arms wrapped tight around yourself after you disconnected Ranger’s leash. The dog sensed your energy, hovering at your side. Dave knew this was his doing, and he promised to make it right.

His footsteps echoed on the floor – he forgot to take his shoes off, but he couldn’t give a shit less – as he approached you. With slow, deliberate movements, he eased your arms apart, grasping one of your hands in his larger one when they fell to your sides.

“Come with me, please?” He phrased it as a question to ease your nerves, but he was already leading you to the back porch.

The sun was falling low in the sky, the golden light cascading over you as he led you to the porch swing. Ranger sat dutifully at your feet.

Dave watched your every move, his chest tightening when you turned to meet his gaze.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, your expression matching your voice, wary and uncertain.

He struggled with how much to tell you and finally settled on a simple, “You’re in danger. That man that’s been following you? He’s… dangerous.” Dave wanted to kick himself for how lame he was being. He just couldn’t think straight with you looking at him like that, all wounded yet hopeful.

You scoffed. “Yeah, I already figured that much out after the way you reacted yesterday.”

“I need to take you away from here, to somewhere safe,” Dave explained softly, his hand still grasping yours.

He’s not sure what he expected, but your reaction confused him. You just nodded with an inscrutable expression on your face. He kinda thought you’d put up a fight.

“Where?”

“A safe house. The guys are stocking it up now, so it’ll be ready for you when we arrive.” Fear, determination, and something deeper flashed in his eyes as he gazed at you. “Listen, I’ll tell you everything I can once we’re safe, but I need you to trust me. Ok?”

He saw the same things reflected in your eyes when you nodded without question.

You didn’t know how to feel or what to think as Dave hustled you and Ranger into his car, your stuff already packed and loaded. The drive was quiet as Dave navigated the darkening roads. You stole glances at him, his jaw tight and one hand gripping yours like a lifeline.

“Dave,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “This man who’s been following me – who is he?”

“A threat,” Dave replied, his voice low as his eyes scanned the road. “One I can’t take lightly.”

“Obviously,” you snarked. “But why is he threatening me… us? There’s more to the story. I know there is. Please, just tell me.”

His eyes flashed to you quickly, hand tightening around yours again. “Ok. His name is Robert McCall. He’s my old commander from the team the guys and I were on.”

You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“Some things happened, and we thought he died. Turns out he just faked his death and hid for years before resurfacing to come after the guys and me for some shit we did – things I will not talk about right now,” Dave warned.

Again, you nodded, squeezing his hand in support. “Ok, I won’t ask about those ‘things’ then.”

“Anyway, we came to an understanding around the time that Carol was diagnosed with cancer, and we parted on equitable terms. Or so I thought. In the few years since then, he’s… changed. Became angry at the government and everything it made us do back in the day. He’s, uh… he’s part of this case I’m investigating.”

Silence fell over the two of you again; the only sound in the vehicle was Ranger’s rhythmic panting. You mulled over Dave’s explanation, and, despite your overwhelming curiosity, you didn’t press for more. Instead, you pulled his hand up to your lips and kissed his knuckles. The warmth of his eyes when he looked at you was enough, and you let the car fall quiet.

After a while, you caved and broke the silence.

“Why isn’t my mom coming with us?” Not that you wanted her there, but still, you wondered. If you and the girls were in danger, surely she was, too?

“There’s something really important I need to tell you,” Dave began, his grip tightening around your hand.

“OK?” you replied hesitantly.

“Your mom and I… the marriage was never real.”

The truth bomb left you stunned, but not for long. So much made sense now – the weird interactions and lack of affection, Dave spending nights with you…

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you wondered.

With a grimace, he glanced between you and the road. “It was part of our cover for the operation. I couldn’t risk the wrong ears hearing and repeating the truth. It was easier to keep it a secret from everyone and play charades.”

Silence fell for a few minutes as you let that sink in. A roller coaster of emotions swirled within you, but the most important one was a sense of relief.

“I was planning on telling you everything the moment the mission ended,” Dave added, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

You nodded then. “I understand. It all makes sense, though. There were so many odd things about the marriage that made me wonder what the hell was going on. At the same time, I didn’t want to know.”

Dave glanced between you and the road again. He had a hard time keeping his eyes off you. “Is that why you never asked questions about me and her?”

“Yep. I thought, what did it matter if the marriage was real or fake or whatever? I figured it wasn’t for love. Otherwise, you’d never have gotten involved with me. Even in the moments when it hurt to see you with her, I still felt like you weren’t really with her. You know? All I really cared about was just getting to be with you when I could.”

He pulled your hand to his face, touching his lips to your knuckles in a soft, soothing kiss. “There was never any love, I swear. It was all fake – for this case. My team at the DIA created the cover story, Lisa volunteered for the role, and I ‘bought’ the house to get close to Roger.”

You shrugged, your eyes a little brighter. “Well, I’m glad to have confirmation that I’m not a true homewrecker. I couldn’t understand what you’d seen in my mom anyway, so I’m very pleased to know it wasn’t real. Otherwise, I’d have to question your judgment… and taste in women.”

Laughter filled the cabin of the SUV. “I do wonder, though,” you said, contemplating your mom’s accusations the night before. “Did my mom hope it would become a real marriage? She accused me of trying to steal you from her.”

A guttural groan slipped past Dave’s lips as he shook his head. He told you the conversation that occurred between the two of them the night before and how he put an end to the ruse by contacting his boss.

“I can’t fault her for trying, I guess,” you said, rolling your eyes at your mother’s crazy behavior. “I’m glad it’s officially over between you two, even if it was fake all along.”

“Me, too,” Dave admitted.

The lingering tension between the two of you dissipated now that the air was cleared. The conversation shifted to mundane things as the SUV ate up the miles.

Sometime later, Dave pulled to a stop in front of a cabin nestled deep in the woods, far removed from the chaos of the outside world. Towering pines surrounded the structure in every direction. Dave ushered you and Ranger inside after letting the dog sniff around and do his business. Dave locked the door behind him and checked every window to confirm they were secure.

You stood in the living room, in front of a glowing fire with your arms crossed as you watched him move about. “How long are we staying here?”

“As long as it takes,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. When he finally stopped moving, the weight of everything seemed to crash over him. He leaned against the wall, his head dropping into his hands.

“Dave…” you began, stepping closer until you stood a few feet directly in front of him.

He looked up, his chocolate eyes raw and vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before. “I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice breaking. He pushed off the wall, closing the space between you in half a stride. “I’ve been an idiot. Shutting you out like that while I made sure the girls were safe. I’m sorry.”

His head fell forward, forehead bumping against yours as you stared into his eyes, heart pounding. “Dave…”

“I love you,” he said, the words spilling from his mouth in a rush, like a dam giving way to flood waters. “I love you, and the thought of something happening to you – I can’t handle it.”

Tears stung your eyes as his words sank in, the raw sincerity in his voice undoing you. “I… I love you, too,” you whispered. A warm wave of relief flooded your senses at finally vocalizing that thing you’d been feeling for months but were too scared to admit.

Dave reached for you, his hands cupping your face as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and the girls safe,” he murmured.

When his lips met yours, it wasn’t like the previous times you kissed – it was deeper, more certain, as though he were pouring every ounce of himself into the kiss.

His hands were everywhere, caressing every bit of you he could reach as he slowly removed your clothes. Dave was soft and sensual in his movements, each kiss reverent, each touch like he was handling delicate crystal stemware. You returned each kiss and caress with tenderness of your own, knowing that’s what he needed right now.

You made love multiple times that night, alone in the cabin with Ranger standing guard outside the bedroom door like a furry sentinel.

In the morning, Dave woke first, the buzzing of an incoming message on his phone stirring him. After reading the quick note from Ari, he turned to face you.

You were splayed on your stomach, skin bare to the waist where the sheet and blanket covered you. Your skin gleamed in the early morning light entering the window. The sight took his breath away.

You loved him, just as he loved you.

It blew his mind.

Dave was in awe of you. How you made him feel, how you treated his girls like they were your own, how you fit into his life right from the first moment you met. It was meant to be, right? Surely, it was.

Desire swelled within him, and he pulled the covers further down your body, revealing the naked skin of your dimpled ass and thighs to his burning gaze. Moving with the sureness of a silent predator, Dave shifted to hover over your back and eased one hand slowly, tenderly between your thighs. Thick fingers tested your readiness for him, finding you wet and waiting from your night of lustful activities.

Torn between waking you with his tongue or his cock, Dave thought back to that night the two of you played Never Have I Ever. When you shared with him that you not only never visited a sex shop, but you also never had someone take you apart while you were still sleeping in the prone position.

His fingers dipped back inside you before coating his cock with your essence. When the overheated skin glistened and his hand glided along the wet shaft, he pitched forward to gently nudge his cock between your slightly parted thighs as his belly pressed against your luscious ass. Having worked you over several times during the night, Dave was able to sink into your depths easily, yet your pussy still gripped him tight.

Body weight supported by strong arms placed at your sides, Dave rocked his hips, setting a smooth pace as he fucked into you, head tipped forward to watch the meat of your ass jiggle with each thrust. You began to wake when he hit that spot you loved, sleepy moans slipping from your pretty lips.

He brought one hand up to brush a whisp of your hair away from your face so he could watch your expression as you came to full wakefulness with him buried deep inside you.

“Mmmmm, Dave,” you keened, eyes flying open to look at him over your shoulder.

“Good morning, my love,” he greeted between quiet grunts. His hips moved faster as you started to push back against him, body trembling as the pleasure washed over you.

When his arms began to shake with a mix of muscle fatigue and pleasure, Dave slumped against your back, pressing himself deeper inside you as he wriggled one hand beneath your body to tease your clit.

Neither of you heard the sound of the front door opening or Ranger’s playful bark as someone he knew entered the cabin, too lost in the haze of pending orgasm. Dave had you coming in minutes, his panting breaths in your ear as his hips worked into a frenzied pace and you screamed into the pillow. He followed closely behind, pulling out at the last second, stroking his cock for a beat before he shot ropes of cum across your dimpled ass. After the last drop fell, he smacked your fleshy rump and watched as your cum-covered ass jiggled deliciously.

“Now that’s a fucking sight,” Dave said in a voice still gruff with sleep.

“Breakfast is ready if you sex fiends are done in there!” A voice shouted from the kitchen, wrenching a scream from your lungs as you stared over your shoulder at Dave in terror.

Dave laughed at your reaction, patting your ass again. “Relax, Firecracker. It’s just Ari.”

Climbing from the bed, he cleaned up the mess left behind on your ass and slipped on a pair of joggers and a tee shirt. When he turned back to face you, he held up one of his tee shirts in one hand and your clothes from yesterday in the other. You were too busy burying your head in the pillow in sheer embarrassment to notice.

“Come on, baby,” Dave chuckled. “It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before. Get dressed, and let’s go see what he brought for breakfast.”

“Can’t you just bring whatever it is in here?” you whined, sitting up to slip on his shirt. “There’s no way in hell I’m going out there right now.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, stepping aside when he opened the door to let Ranger bound into the room to see you before shutting the door again. He nodded a greeting to Ari as the sound of your giggles from the pup jumping on the bed to lick your voice echoed behind him.

“She not coming out?” Ari questioned, a knowing smirk gracing his lips as he drew a few breakfast sandwiches from the brown paper bag on the counter.

“What do you think? You just had to embarrass her, didn’t you?” Depleted after a night of active, enthusiastic lovemaking with you, Dave bit into his sandwich with the vigor of a starving man as Ari chuckled. Three bites, and it was nearly devoured.

“Have you told her any of the stories from—”

“Of course not!” Dave snapped. “Why the fuck would I tell her stories about my disastrous, youthful single days in the military? I want her to stick around, not ditch me for being a young, dumb manwhore.”

Ari chuckled as Dave snatched up the remaining sandwich and a can of Diet Coke before darting back to the bedroom. He could kill Ari for his shit timing, but they had important things to discuss, and time was of the essence.

“Here you go, kitten,” he teased, handing you the items with a flourish. “You can hide in here for a while more. The others are coming to go over the plan for the case. I’ll let you know when it’s okay to come out.”

You waved him off, mouth already full of bacon, egg, and cheese on an everything bagel, as you turned on the TV to keep yourself entertained.

By midday, Dave had a plan in place. The meeting was set with the location being scoped by Kovac and Resnik. Ari would remain behind at the cabin to ensure your safety. With Ari currently walking Ranger around the cabin parameter, the safe house was silent save for the methodical fabric rustling and quiet metal clinking as Dave packed his gear.

His movements were sharp and efficient as he double-checked his service weapon and extra clips. The dim glow of the overhead light cast long shadows across the wooden floors, stretching toward where you stood, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you watched him silently.

He was leaving, and you knew nothing about the plan, where he was going, if he would return in one piece. You were still in the dark about it all. Plausible deniability, Dave had said. It’s for your safety, Firecracker.

Utter bullshit. You knew enough for plausible deniability to be out the window.

“You’re really going without telling me anything?” you asked again, hating how your voice wavered despite the steel you tried injecting into it.

Dave stopped what he was doing, turning to face you, his dark, soulful eyes locked on yours. The look he gave you – steady, unwavering, full of warmth – should have been reassuring, but nothing could stop the fear in your chest from coiling tighter.

You didn’t have a good feeling about this, any of this. You’d at least like to know where he’d be in case something happened because deep down, you knew something would.

“I don’t have a choice,” he replied in a low but firm voice as he stepped toward you. He pulled you against the hardness of his chest, the heat of his body slightly calming your nerves as he held you. “If my old commander is involved, I need to know what he’s planning. He is lethal, and I can’t put you at risk. Me and the guys may be the only ones who can stop him.”

Resting your head against Dave’s broad shoulder, you breathed in his scent. He was all Irish Spring soap and expensive cologne, the aroma equaling the masculine strength he commanded. “I get that. You have a job to do, but do you have to leave me here? Alone? Wouldn’t I be better off with you?”

His grip tightened around you as he kissed the crown of your head. “Ari is staying here with you. He’s one of the best – I wouldn’t let him stay here with you if he wasn’t. You’ll be safe with him and Ranger.”

Safe.

The word felt flimsy when the threat looming over both of you had already crept into your life and taken root.

You searched his face, desperate to tamp down the horrible feeling swirling in your gut. “Promise me you’ll come back,” you murmured. You couldn’t lose him now, ever, not after finally admitting the depth of your feelings for each other.

Dave’s jaw tightened. His fingers flexed slightly where they held you before one hand slid upward to take your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Titling your head upwards with his soft grip, Dave’s chocolate eyes burned into you, full of fire and promise. ‘I’ll always come back to you,” he said, his voice deep and filled with emotion. “You are my life now. You and my girls.”

The warehouse was a skeletal structure, its rusted beams arching over the open floor like the ribs of some long-dead beast. The stench of oil and damp cement clung to the air, mixing with the distant hum of the city just beyond the docks. The location was so unlike their previous meeting places, speaking volumes of the sudden change in dynamics with this particular meeting.

Dave stepped through the squeaky, weathered metal door, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. Ahead, Roger and Anna stood waiting beneath the dim overhead lights.

Roger grinned, casual as ever with his hands in his pockets like he had nothing to fear. “York. Right on time for once.”

Dave didn’t slow his stride. His gaze was sharp, cutting straight through their act. ‘Where’s… our mutual friend?” he demanded, his voice controlled but laced with an edge of impatience.

Anna’s painted lips curled at the edges, her dark eyes assessing. “He had… other priorities.”

His stomach twisted, but he forced himself to remain impassive. “Convenient,” he said dryly. “His presence was the whole fucking point of the meeting.”

Roger chuckled, making Dave’s skin crawl as he watched the man swirl the amber liquid in his glass. Even in a fucking dingy warehouse, Roger found his way to a glass of hard liquor. “Relax, York. You’ll meet him soon enough.”

Jaw clenching, Dave silently counted to ten. He had to play this carefully. They didn’t know he already knew McCall’s true identity and suspected his ultimate goal. The entire operation could unravel if he was not careful.

The conversation drifted into logistics – coded talk of shipments and handoffs, scheduling another meeting before the final stage of high-level governmental information was exchanged – but Dave barely heard it. His mind was elsewhere, coiled tight with the realization that McCall had purposefully avoided this meeting.

It wasn’t a delay.

It was a fucking message.

And Dave had a gut-wrenching feeling that the message had been delivered straight to you.

With careful wording and barely suppressed annoyance, he wrapped up the meeting. With phone already in hand when he stepped outside, Dave didn’t waste a second in calling Resnik and Kovac.

“Did you catch all that? He wasn’t fucking there!” he spat, breaking into a run for his SUV, no longer caring about breaking his cover.

Resnik cursed under his breath. “Think he’s onto us?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dave snapped, his gut twisting into knots. “Get to the safe house. Now!”

The drive to the safe house felt interminable, the miles passing too slowly as he struck the steering wheel frustratingly. His calls to Ari went unanswered. This could not be good.

How did he not see this meeting for what it was?

A fucking diversion.

He would kill McCall if anything happened to you.

The only peace of mind for Dave was the fact that his daughters were safe with their grandparents.

When he finally pulled to a stop in front of the cabin, he knew something was wrong.

The front door was open, swinging slightly on its hinges. The porch light flickered, illuminating the stillness of the surrounding woods as twilight settled in.

Cold dread washed over him.

“Stay sharp,” he ordered when Resnik and Kovac exited their vehicles behind him. All three men drew their weapons.

The interior of the cabin was wrecked. Furniture overturned, broken glass scattered across the floor, the unmistakable scent of blood in the air.

And then he saw Ari.

The man was slumped against the wall, one hand pressed to his side, blood seeping through his fingers. Ranger lay beside him, wounded and whining pitifully while Ari’s free hand covered the wound beneath his matted fur.

On the floor in front of them sat the heart necklace Dave gave you for Christmas, the chain snapped.

Pulse pounding in his ears, Dave dropped to his knees. He ignored the pain of the impact with the hardwood floor as his fingers closed around the necklace. “What the hell happened?”

Ari’s eyelids fluttered, his face pale from blood loss. “He… came out of nowhere. Overpowered me and stabbed Ranger when this guy tried to bite him. He fucking took her.” He coughed then, visibly wincing with the pain of it. “I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry.”

The cabin disappeared as Dave’s vision narrowed. His anger sparked like a live wire, his breath coming in sharp, barely controlled breaths. He felt like he could fucking cry with the mix of emotions swirling within his chest. “Who?” Dave asked, though he already knew the answer.

Ari coughed again; a spot of blood mixed with his spittle as he spoke. “McCall.”

The confirmation sent a wave of fury crashing through him, his worries turning dark and suffocating. “Did you see which way he went?” Dave’s voice stayed deadly calm, not belying the roiling emotions bubbling wildly under the surface.

“North… in a black SUV…” Ari lost consciousness then, and Dave knelt in front of him, frozen.

Movement behind him broke Dave from his daze. Resnik was already moving, his phone out as he finished a call. “Help is on the way.”

Dave slowly rose to his feet, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. His mind whirled, already calculating, strategizing how best to track McCall down. But beneath it all, something primal fought its way to the surface. McCall took you, hurt your dog in the process, and there would be hell to pay.

McCall would pay with his life. Dave could promise that much.

Turning to Kovac, he said, “Stay with them. Make sure they both get patched up. She’ll kill me if Ranger doesn’t pull through.” The other man nodded solemnly, and Dave turned to Resnik. “You’re with me.”

The two men stalked toward his SUV. Dave’s body was coiled with a surging wave of rage that promised nothing short of scorched earth-level destruction.

tbc

Chapter Twelve

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69 @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @inept-the-magnificent @wannab-urs @thundermartini @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @sunnytuliptime @vie-is-punk @lovely-vamp-princess

[magneto-was-fucking-right]

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 7

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 8

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; explicit sexual content

Chapter Summary: In which Simon's neighbor gets free lunch and ends up with her hand on his pants.

Word Count: 2.1K

Simon Riley and Riley Thomas sat face to face at her round kitchen table, the random assortment of food containers from their favorite Chinese place being the only thing separating them. Their afternoon reunion had been as awkward as could be expected: extremely hungover, Riley tried her best to pretend she hadn’t embarrassed herself tremendously the previous night, and Simon pretended he hadn’t jerked off twice in his shower after he put her to bed.

Tension filled every moment of silence, which Riley was quick to heap with useless chatter on how she hoped the weather got better (it never did) and how delicious the food was (it always had been). Simon simply hummed in agreement when necessary, finding it amusing to silently observe her flustered expression and the way she avoided his gaze.

To her dismay, she couldn’t even count on Johnny to help diffuse the awkwardness between them, since he had immediately - and very excitedly - asked her to take Rex for a walk in the park, while Milo dozed off in her bed. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to refuse the cheerful Scot anything at all. 

When the meal was finished, and the young woman had finally started to relax against her seat, believing him to have opted to forget the matter, Simon cocked his head to the right, readjusting his facemask and therefore silently allowing her to look at his face once again.

“Are we gonna talk about last night?” His deep, low tone made her cheeks flush immediately, her hands covering her face as she sighed nervously.

“Can we not?” She grimaced at the faint memories of her inappropriate behavior, dreading the possibility of having ruined their friendship - her only one - for good. She couldn’t make out exactly what she had said, but she painfully remembered how she had desperately tried to kiss Simon, and the way his hands had firmly kept her away, the rejection still staining her heart.

“You don’t wan’ to?” He raised an eyebrow, but she kept hidden behind her palms. “Riley…” He called and she shivered at the softness in his tone.

She slowly parted two of her fingers, uncovering one of her eyes tentatively. 

“Let’s talk, yeah?”

“Hmm.” She grunted, shaking her head.

“What’s the matter, love?”

“Don’t call me that!” She reburied her face in her palms, feeling her skin heat at the nickname.

“Talk to me, then.”

“I…” She started, but the words died down in her throat. “I’m so sorry.”

Simon leaned back in his seat, arms crossed at his chest.

“What for?”

Riley sighed deeply in exasperation, feeling more humiliated than ever.

“For practically assaulting you!”

He let out an amused chuckle, and she uncovered her teary eye once again, assessing his reaction.

“You’re not…mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Simon…”

“I’m serious, love.”

“You rejected me.” Her voice slightly trembled.

“You were drunk. And very vulnerable.”

“So…I didn’t ruin our friendship?”

“You did. Jus’ not in the way you’re worried about.”

She cocked her head in confusion, but he gave no further explanations, standing up and beginning to collect the empty containers.

“What does that mean?” She frowned, finally fully looking him in the eyes. He ignored her panic, beginning to stuff them in the bin. 

“Simon!” He didn’t let up, turning to wash the dishes she had left piled in the sink the day before.

When he didn’t respond, silently taunting her, she stood up, walking over to him and pinching his behind roughly.

“Easy, kid.” He flinched, surprised at her unusual boldness.

“Tell me! How did I ruin it?” She seemed on the verge of tears, but he returned to the dishes, grunting in response.

Riley let out an angry breath, grabbing his bicep and forcing him to turn to her, pinning him against the sink.

He looked down at her smaller frame, not even a little intimidating, amused at how cute she looked when she was mad.

“Tell me. How. I ruined it.” She commanded slowly, concern visible in her doe eyes as she pulled him down by the collar of his shirt.

Simon was stone cold serious, holding her gaze as he grabbed her wrist gently, lowering it all the way down to his jeans, where he pressed her hand against something hard, and girthy behind the denim.

“Friends don’t usually give me a stiffy.” 

Riley’s lips parted in shock, her eyes fixed on his growing bulge, head emptying as she tried hard to process the meaning of his words.

“Fuck.” Was all she could come up with as she palmed him through his pants, too shocked to move away (not that she wished to, anyway).

“Hm.”

Riley Thomas bit her lower lip pensively, before looking up at the man through her lashes, innocent curiosity mixed with emboldened desire. She pressed her palm more firmly against the protruding hardness, her breath caught in her throat as she carefully mapped out the contour of his length, noticing the way his eyelids grew heavy, dark brown eyes hazy with something she couldn’t yet decipher.

“D-do you mind if I…” She trailed off, hooking a finger behind his belt.

“Let me guess…My consent would be greatly appreciated?” He taunted and she bit her lip once again, nodding slowly with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“By all means.” His deep, sultry voice conceded, and her trembling hands made awkward work of the buckle, followed by the button, and the zipper.

 Riley felt like a hormonal teenager when she placed a sweaty hand on his navel, lips parted in wonder at the lovely blondish happy trail that dipped into his briefs, keen on exploring every inch of his pale skin as her heart hammered violently in her heaving chest. She looked up once again, searching for further approval, unsure of how far he was willing to take it. Simon cocked his head to the right in his usual casual manner, raising a hand to caress her cheek in a comforting gesture.

“You don’t have to.” He assured, thumb grazing her freckled cheek tenderly.

“I want to.” She immediately countered, eagerly. “But do you?”

Simon felt his heart melt at her care and concern, his cock twitching at the kindness in her eyes and the tenderness of her touch.

I’m so fucked. A part of him ached, terrified of those new, unexpected feelings he had worked so long to subdue. 

“I do.” He nodded once “We ain’t got long. Johnny has tiny legs but he walks fast.” And that was the last coherent sentence he was able to utter, until her cold fingers snaked their way inside the fabric of his briefs.

Riley let out a shaky breath as her fingertips grazed the coarse, trimmed curls where his velvety, thick shaft rested, feeling it pulse once she actually gripped it. Simon’s hands rested on the sink, gripping it so tight she was surprised he hadn’t broken it yet, his head tilted back as he let out a deep sigh of relief.

A firm grip around the base, silently measuring the impressive thickness of his hard length and fantasizing about how good it would feel inside of her, stretching her out. She took a deep breath before finally pulling it out from the confines of his warm briefs, a drop of pearly pre-cum leaking from his pink tip. She pumped him once, twice, three times until Simon finally let the smallest, lowest groan fall from his lips.

She bit her lip at the sound, gazing up at his beautiful brown eyes as she moved her hand lower, gentle fingers cupping his heavy sack. Simon’s hands latched onto her hips, holding on for dear life as he kneaded her flesh.

It wasn’t enough, the soft, languid touches exchanged between the two, as Simon’s large, warm hand palmed her breast tentatively, too carefully, over her shirt. Riley gasped when his thumb lazily grazed her hardened nipple over the fabric, lips parting as she teased him right back, her own thumb caressing his leaky slit, eliciting a deep, pleasured sigh from him. 

He held her gaze as his left hand slid under her clothes, calloused fingertips grazing the softness of her tummy, before fully cupping the plump flesh, fingers pulling on her pebbled nipple softly. She felt her insides burn with need as she outright moaned, eyes shutting as he rolled it between his fingers, eyes assessing her every reaction, body responsive to every sound and movement she made.

Riley picked up the pace, pumping his cock more eagerly when his right hand dipped into the hem of her sweatpants, easily gliding a finger over her soaked panties. She blushed in utter embarrassment at the desperate sound that left her lips when his fingers traced the outline of her folds, and Simon smirked under his mask.

“Seems you weren’t lying last night.”

“I really wasn’t.” She whimpered, forehead pressing against his chest as his fingers finally dipped in her knickers, a groan of approval rumbling in his chest at the warmth and wetness of her folds. He couldn’t help it as he pressed the tip of his middle finger against her entrance, testing the resistance as he slowly pushed in all the way to his knuckle, making her hiss at the unexpected stretch.

“Sorry, love.” He wasn’t actually sorry as he took in the desperate way in which she ground her hips to his hand, eager to find relief. Riley lowered her head, and allowed some spit to fall from her lips onto his sensitive tip, lubricating his cock as she pumped him faster. Simon’s weaker leg faltered and he struggled to focus as he gently moved his finger inside her tight hole, massaging her walls with the utmost care before removing it and spreading her slick over her swollen clit. She whimpered and Simon thought he could cum at the sound.

He knew he wouldn’t last long, not with the way she was desperately bringing him close to the edge, wet sounds of her saliva coating him all the way down to his balls filling the small kitchen. He felt like his virgin 16 year old self, barely hanging on at the feel of her round tits beneath his hand, the both of them all avid gropes and desperate caresses as he kneaded every inch of bare skin he was lucky enough to touch, while she pumped away any of his remaining sanity with firm strokes.

The young woman almost begged him to remove his mask, to let her swallow those pleasured groans and soft whimpers that made warmth pool in the apex of her thighs as the mutual masturbation continued, but she didn’t want to push her luck. Not yet, at least.

“I’m close.” She admitted, not even five minutes since they had begun, her cheeks flushed with shame and vulnerability as she looked up into his eyes.

“I’ve been close since you started.” Simon groaned in her ear, veiny shaft pulsing,leg faltering.

“Simon…” She whispered quietly, panting as he quickened the pace at which his fingers fervently rubbed tight circles around her bundle of nerves. Her loving gaze and her parted lips awoke something deep within him, something that meant much more to him than the pleasure she was coaxing from his body.

Simon Riley had had lovers. Not many, but a considerate few who had managed to set his guard down long enough to earn a shag, nothing more than meaningless, quiet humping, meant to satisfy primal instincts and stifle his relentless loneliness - temporarily, at least. But he had never had that: Riley’s warmth, and beautiful, loving eyes that seemed to look beyond him, his mask, and actually care.

He didn’t object when her left hand slowly reached up, pointer finger ready to pull down his mask as her right hand continued her ministrations. He actually leaned down, his face so close to her he could breathe in her soft sighs of pleasure. Her nail had barely grazed the side of his stubbled jaw when they heard loud barking in the hallway, their bodies freezing at the same time.

The two neighbors barely managed to get their hands off each other’s underwear, Simon’s mask snapping back into place, hands fumbling to tuck his hard cock back into his jeans awkwardly while Riley readjusted her shirt. In a minute, Johnny McTavish was already bursting through the door, the pup at his leg wagging his tail excitedly.

“Christ…Am I interruptin’ something?” He teased, mocking their suspicious proximity, Riley’s face and neck reddish like a tomato as Simon quickly turned to the sink, pretending to do the dishes.

“Did ya get us tea?” The Lieutenant asked, coolly changing the subject.

“Of course. Anythin’ for my two favorite love birds.” 

“Fuck off.” Simon rolled his eyes as he threw the sponge back in the sink, side eyeing the drinks he placed on the table.

Riley still blushed furiously, seemingly inclined to throw herself out of the window as Johnny smirked, unleashing Rex and turning to his best friend while pointing to his midsection.

“Oh and Simon?”

“What?”

“Ya forgot the belt.”

A/N: Once again, apologies for the delay!! Uni and work have been kicking my ass so as per usual I'll be doing my best to upload as fast as possible! Thank you so much for every single comment and message <3 Keep the feedback coming, it really motivates me :)

TAG LIST (I hope I haven't forgotten anyone)

@xaestheticalien @bossva @missmae3004 @yyiikes @lillysfrogsandbogs @missmae3004 @spicyspicyliving @shuttlelauncher81 @generaldestinychild @semendreaminsblog @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @iloveghost900 @anaromanov9 @flaminghotcheetosinhaler @cigsm3rcy

[candycandy00]

The Doll House Bonus Chapter - Gojo x Reader

I was commissioned to write a bonus chapter set one year after the end of my Gojo Doll House fanfic!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Chubby Reader. Pet play. Collars/leashes. Face sitting. Oral. Anal plugs.

Any feedback is greatly appreciated!

You’re folding laundry in the apartment you share with your boyfriend when he walks into the room. Without looking up, you hold out a stack of towels for him to put away. He takes them but instead of walking over to the linen closet, simply sits the stack on top of the still warm dryer.

This gets your attention, so you stop and look at him. He’s grinning, his hands behind his back.

“I have a surprise for you,” he says.

“Oh?” you ask, half excited, half worried. Gojo’s surprises were either lovely, thoughtful gifts or ridiculously perverted sex toys. There was no in between. So you brace yourself to receive either a beautiful piece of jewelry or a huge glow in the dark dildo.

Not that you wouldn’t enjoy both.

He holds one hand out, a small, prettily wrapped package sitting on his palm. You take it, examining the shape and weight of the gift. It’s small and light. Definitely not a giant dildo. You carefully peel off the wrapping paper and open the dark colored box underneath.

What you find is a necklace, choker style, made of what appears to be soft pink velvet. There’s a small silver pendent in the shape of a heart hanging from it. It’s lovely.

You look up at Gojo to find him beaming. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you say, your fingers rubbing over the pendent. That’s when you notice something. The front of the pendent slides off with a click, revealing a heart shaped silver ring. Etched into the metal are tiny cursive letters that spell out “Bunny”.

Wait.

You look up at him. “Satoru, is this a collar?”

His grin widens. “It’s called a discreet collar, or a day collar. It looks like a choker, right? So you can wear it in public, and be reminded of me the whole time.”

You can’t deny that it makes you feel heated, the thought of wearing a collar in public, only you and your lover knowing the truth.

The two of you often have normal, romantic sex, but at least twice a month you set plenty of time aside for lengthy “sessions”. These usually involve you being collared and leashed and fucked so full of his cum that you’re leaking from every hole.

These sessions are an important part of your relationship, keeping the trust and love strong between you, and leaving you feeling desired and cherished.

“Help me try it on?” you ask, reaching him the collar and turning your back to him.

Gojo steps closer and places the collar on your neck, then fastens it at the back. His fingers are soft against your skin, making you tingle. When he’s finished, you touch the velvet material, then the silver ring. You turn to face him, and his arms quickly wrap around you.

“How does it look?” you ask.

He leans in and kisses you. “Hot enough to make my dick throb.”

You playfully slap his arm, but laugh as you go back to folding laundry. “So what’s the special occasion?” you ask.

He stares at you, the grin dropping from his lips. “You don’t know?”

You shake your head. It’s not a holiday, and it’s definitely not your birthday.

He almost looks teary eyed as he says, “It’s the one year anniversary of us becoming a couple!”

“Really?” You figured you’d been together around a year but you definitely didn’t remember the exact date. The fact that he did makes you smile. “Oh, but I don’t have a present for you. I’m sorry.”

He takes the half folded towel out of your hands and pulls you into his arms. “Silly Bunny, just letting me be in your life is a present.”

You laugh as if he’s joking, but he looks deeply into your eyes, his expression serious. “I mean it. I wanted you for so long, ached for you. Having you with me now is like a dream.”

“Satoru…”

You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him, and he grins again. “I’m taking you out tonight. You go get ready and I’ll finish the laundry.”

“Okay. Give me half an hour,” you say as you head toward the bedroom. On the way out you feel something hit your ass. You look back to find Gojo holding a rolled up towel and laughing. You giggle and flip him off before going to get ready.

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

Gojo thinks he’s seen heaven before while being with his Bunny, but she’s an absolute vision of paradise tonight as she sits across the table from him. She got all dolled up to go out with him to the high end restaurant he made reservations for. He loves how the low neckline of her dress accentuates her curves, how it draws attention to the beautiful new collar he bought for her.

Just seeing it around her neck as she sits there, knowing what he’ll be doing to her later tonight, is getting him amped up.

But most of all, he’s enchanted by the way she’s smiling and talking, how she looks so happy. With him.

When the server brings out more champagne, Gojo holds his glass up to her. “To a hundred more years together,” he says.

She clinks her glass against his, laughing as she says, “We’ll be dead in a hundred more years, Satoru.”

“You think that’ll stop me from being with you? My bones will get up and crawl to your coffin.”

“Probably bringing a collar and a vibrator,” she adds.

“Oh definitely. We’ll be the horniest skeletons in the cemetery!”

She giggles at the thought, then her eyes soften as she looks straight at him. “I love you.”

He feels his heart racing as he says, “I love you more.”

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

You and Gojo are already making out as you come through the door of your apartment, pawing at each other’s clothes and almost stumbling over a pair of shoes someone left on the floor.

He’s careful not to rip your dress. He said it’s his favorite, and at least twice before he’s experienced your wrath when he destroyed your clothing in his passion. But soon enough he has you reduced to nothing but the collar around your neck. His jacket and tie are gone, his black dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down, as he hurriedly pulls the leash from a nearby drawer.

This isn’t a scheduled session, but it’s not entirely uncommon for the two of you to incorporate the leash into your everyday sex. You’re giddy with excitement as he removes the silver covering of the pendent and hooks the leash onto the ring. Then he’s tugging you toward the couch, where he sits down with his legs wide apart and opens his pants.

God, he’s beautiful. He wears the most sultry expression as his hand casually slides up and down his enormous cock, already fully hard. Then he’s using the leash to urge you to your knees in front of him, pulling you forward.

“Open up, Bunny,” he says, his voice like satin. You open your lips wide, and he tugs you closer, his cock plunging into your mouth. His grip on the leash is so strong, so tight, you’re physically incapable of pulling back enough to let him slip out of your mouth. So your tongue goes to work, licking the underside of his shaft while your throat constricts around his tip. Your hands are on his thighs, clutching the soft fabric of his expensive black pants.

You look up at him, and as always he’s looking down at you as if you’re the most beautiful, incredible being on this planet. You love sucking your boyfriend off. Partly because he tastes fucking delicious and partly because it makes him look at you this way.

Sometimes you can’t help remembering how you felt about him all those years ago, when you first fell for him but thought you had no chance with him. Back then you couldn’t possibly have imagined that you’d someday be in a relationship like this with him, that he would look at you with such adoration in those lovely eyes of his.

He loosens his grip on the leash slightly, allowing you to pull back enough so that he’s barely in your mouth when he cums. Then he’s pulling you forward again, going deeper so he can feel you swallowing his seed. When finished, he rubs your head affectionately and says, “Good Bunny!”

After helping you to your feet, he leads you into the bedroom. There, lying ready on the bed, are three items: your bunny ears, your tail, and a bottle of lube. You look over at him. “You had this all planned out, didn’t you?”

He smiles, so brightly it could blind you. “Yep! I wanted our anniversary to be special. I took tomorrow off so we can stay up all night having fun!”

You suppose it’s pure luck that you already have tomorrow off. You kiss his cheek before climbing onto the bed, assuming the very familiar position by now to have your tail inserted.

He’s bought you several different tails, of varying colors and sizes. Tonight he picked a relatively large one, pastel pink and very fluffy. He preps you very carefully before putting it in, making sure nothing hurts. And once he’s done, he puts the matching pink bunny ears on your head.

You climb off the bed and give a playful shake of your ass, looking at him over your shoulder. You know this drives him wild, and the evidence is written all over his face. He looks like he could swallow you whole.

He walks over to the bed and sits down, tugging you closer to stand in front of him. He looks you in the eyes and says, “Sit on my face, Bunny.”

You freeze. This is something he brought up once before in passing, and you laughed it off like you thought he was joking. You’re not embarrassed of your body anymore, not with the way he treats it as a rare prize, but this is one act that still gives you pause.

“Satoru, I don’t know about that… I might suffocate you.”

“You’re not gonna suffocate me. I promise. You don’t think I’m that weak, do you?”

Your eyes shift to the side. “But I’m heavy.”

“You’re perfect,” he corrects. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time. The thought of your softness all around my face makes me crazy. But… if you really don’t want to, I’ll drop it. You know I don’t want you to do something that makes you uncomfortable.”

Early in your relationship, the two of you had a long discussion about boundaries, and he’s been sure to respect those boundaries since then. You’ve had to use a safe word or gesture only twice, and both times he stopped immediately and seemed terrified that he’d hurt you. But he hadn’t. Things had just gotten a little too intense.

So you trust Gojo to take care of you, to prioritize your comfort and pleasure.

“Okay, I guess we can try it,” you say.

He looks so excited as he slips his shirt off his shoulders and lays back on the bed, then gently tugs on the leash.

“Tap my thigh if you have trouble breathing,” you tell him, still nervous about this. It’s the same thing he often tells you before sticking his cock down your throat.

“I will,” he says, grinning, looking like he just won something.

You climb onto the bed beside him, then straddle his head, still up on your knees. He’s seen you in every lewd position imaginable but this is still a little embarrassing. Slowly, you ease yourself down until you feel his nose against your slick folds. He scoots back just a little, so that his mouth is lined up just right, and you feel his tongue lick a stripe up your pussy, dipping through the flesh to find your clit.

You shudder, but maintain your position as his mouth works at your dripping cunt. The slurping sounds are making you blush, but it feels so good!

His hands move to your thighs, not tapping but softly squeezing the plush flesh, pulling you down further onto him. You hesitate at first, but then relax your muscles slightly and let a little more of your weight rest on his face. His nose is bumping against your clit as his tongue dives into your sopping hole. Your legs tremble on either side of his face, and his grip on them tightens, keeping you firmly in place.

“S-Satoru…! Ahh… ahhhh!” You cry out in pleasure, reflexively grinding your pussy into his face, feeling how slippery it’s become with your juices.

It feels too good. You can’t hold back any longer, and you cum right on his face, his lips sucking on your clit as you quiver above him.

When you have the strength to move, you slide off him and look down. His whole face is glistening, and he’s licking his lips as if he just enjoyed a delicious meal.

He raises up and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly. “Thank you for trusting me,” he says. Then he pulls back and gives you a devious grin. “Now I need you under me so I can fuck this pussy raw.”

With that, he flips you over onto your stomach and lifts your hips up, leaving your face smushed into the pillow. You feel him push your knees apart, and within seconds his entire length is buried inside you, making you gasp. As he begins thrusting, deeply and powerfully, his hand grabs your fluffy tail, using it like a handle. The pressure of it makes your pussy clench him harder, and he grunts behind you as he twists the tail inside you.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groans out, shoving in even deeper, his free hand groping your ass as the other continues twisting the tail. Ahh, he’s hitting your favorite spot, all the way inside, making your body shake and tears spring to your eyes. His cock throbs against your cervix with each thrust, making you cry out his name.

You cum again, clamping down tightly on both his cock and the tail, your pussy gushing around him. In turn, he moans out his usual babbles of “I love you” and “you’re mine” as he fills your womb to the brim.

Afterwards, he collapses beside you and pulls you into his arms as you both attempt to catch your breath.

He absently strokes your arm with his fingers. “Thank you,” he says.

You look up at him. “What for?”

He smiles. “For giving me the best year of my life.”

“We’ll have a hundred more, right?” you ask with a giggle.

He kisses the top of your head. “We’ll have a thousand more. We’ll have infinity more! Because you’re my soulmate.”

You’re not sure if you believe in soulmates, but if they do exist, then Gojo is certainly yours. You snuggle closer to him, sighing in contentment. “I love you, Satoru.”

You feel his heart beating in his chest as he says, “I love you more.”

[muffinsin]

Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 1: the aftermath

The prologue can be found here. It’s recommended you read it before starting this story

[TW’s for this story: toxic relationships, manipulation, emotional and physical abuse, sexual abuse and assault, non-con elements, self harm, forced self harm, possessive behavior, stalking, slapping, cutting, degradation and shaming, drugging, kidnapping, torture, genital torture, violence, choking, G!P on one occasion, sex as an unhealthy coping method, self harm as an unhealthy coping method, suicidal thoughts]

[TW’s for this chapter: stalking, light violence]

Masterlists Smoke and Mirrors

Overview Smoke and Mirrors

Blog Masterlists

Let’s get into it🙌

Donna’s panting, her whole body trembling with desire. A self-satisfied smirk is set on her unpainted lips, her dark eye grazing over the beautiful sight by her side.

Daniela Dimitrescu, marked as hers.

She does not yet wholly belong to her, has not yet been wholly claimed and taken home as a victor’s prize should be. Distaste bubbles up in her mouth at the thought, a vile bile that reminds her her work is not yet done. She plans on correcting that.

She allows her pitch black eye to linger on the woman’s form.

Naked as a babe, panting, her beautiful, golden eyes closed. Her doll lays still. The only indication she is passed out rather than dead is her beating heart and the small breaths and exhales coming from her. With her upper back facing upwards and her stomach pressed into the bed, Donna is granted the beautiful sight of her work.

A claim, a mark-her mark, the one of her house, burned into the woman’s back. The Beneviento crest, burned into the petite and sensitive flesh by flaming hot pollen. She held her doll so tightly as it was applied, brought her enough pleasure to overshadow the searing pain. She can’t afford to lose her doll just yet, to inflict too much pain and scare her little Daniela off. Yet, she is not wholly hers. Yet, she can turn her back and run away. Run, always, never hide. Donna’s dark eye will always find her.

She traces lightly over the mark, her touch so feather light the auburn-haired woman doesn’t even stir.

She looks beautiful like this, Donna thinks. Naked, draped against the pale sheets, her hair a beautiful mess around her and against her shoulders and back. Her face, resting, her full cheeks adorably pink and wet. Had she cried? Donna didn’t notice, but now wishes she had.

She cups the woman’s sleeping face, admiring the dried streaks of salty tears. Her core throbs at the sight.

A wicked, twisted love burns in her. Her beautiful doll. When she wakes, will her eyes be glossy, teary? Her cute, girly eyelashes wet and thick? She leans forth, allowing herself a taste.

Daniela merely stirs tiredly, unaware of what is happening around her. Her skin is soft, as Donna has found out, her tears salty. Donna’s body aches at the taste. The taste of innocence, of pain and pleasure.

Yes, Daniela is perfect for her. And she will make such a perfect doll, too.

She moves from her comfortable position on the bed, her ghostly touches traversing from Daniela’s cheeks to her hair, her head, her shoulders, her branded backside, to the round swell of her ass.

Again, the sleeping woman stirs as she is touched.

Donna’s touches, while ghostly when she wants them to be, hold power now. She gropes without shame. Ah, no, not groping. Inspecting. Inspecting her doll. She hums, pleased. Daniela’s skin is soft and untouched, no scars or bruises visible on her. Skin, pale, like porcelain. Her ass, round and thick, but never too thick, perfect.

Phantom hands move at Donna’s side, ghostly white and featherlight, but forceful, when they grip at the sleeping woman.

Again, Daniela only stirs, as if a part of her attempted to wake up, but she wasn’t quite granted to. After all, her new lover is not quite done yet, and is not yet allowing her doll to return to the present.

She sends the Dimitrescu a look, conjuring up sweet images and moments for the woman to dream about. When Daniela quietens down again, the phantom hands move. One at each ankle, another pair at her thick thighs. They pull, spread her for the doll maker, who elegantly steps forwards and kneels between the woman’s spread legs. From this angle, she at last has a perfect view of the very same flowery pussy she sunk her fingers into just a little while ago.

She trails her fingertips against it again, the very tips light white from her use of the phantom hands. Daniela sighs, as though dreamily, in her sleep.

Her juicy pussy lips are pulled aside, revealing her insides to the Lord. Donna bites lazily at her bruised lower lip. She revels in the sight, Daniela’s pussy and insides a cute girlish pink, her spongy insides rubbed and fucked raw by skilled fingers before. She allows a finger to push into the wet heat and chuckles dryly when the sleeping woman stirs again, whimpering cutely even as she is unconscious.

She turns and twists it, adding a second finger as she steadily screws them into the younger woman. Soon, her precious composure is lost and she explores greedily, rubbing spongy walls.

Even on the inside, Daniela is soft. A twisted want rises within her, demanding her to bruise the soft inner walls and turn girlish pink to bloody red. She resists, for now. Perhaps at another time, another opportunity will rise. She cannot risk scaring her doll away, not while she is still not wholly hers, hidden deep within the Beneviento mansion like the priceless gem she is.

She screws her fingers into the little hole harder, faster. For a moment, her grip on her doll slips, and Daniela’s lips part and a loud whimper and moan tumble out.

Immediately, Donna’s influence washes over her again, gripping like vines, holding her down as if with leashes and chains.

And still, it was a fatal slip up, with consequences to follow.

Donna tenses as she makes out the buzzing flies in the distance, quickly drawing closer and closer.

An older sister, annoyingly worried about the odd, pained moan and whimper coming from her little sister’s room. Donna scowls in frustration. She doesn’t pull her finger from Daniela, only turns her head before the door opens and a woman wearing her doll’s signature black dress steps into the room.

Bela, if she remembers correctly, her blonde hair wild as though she was curled up somewhere and only now got up to check on the noise. The woman scowls, immediately adverts her eyes to the floor as she finds her sister’s completely naked form on the bed. And, nothing and nobody else.

Blocking her sister’s body from her vision with her hand, Bela glances around the seemingly empty room, oblivious to Donna’s dark eye burning into her with fury. Of course, she knows, her doll’s sisters must be one of the first obstacles to be removed. In time, only. They will not be in her way, and will be removed should they prove any more annoying.

“Dani?”, she whispers into the quiet room, suspicious.

Donna scowls as the blonde steps closer to the bed. She’s so very close to her now, would undoubtedly feel her if she was to bump into her, despite the thick pollen in the room manipulating the reality her eyes can perceive.

She’s forced to move, if only to avoid being detected, and slips her finger from Daniela’s wet pussy. Immediately, Bela’s head automatically jerks to it at the noise, and immediately turns away again at the unwelcome sight. Donna pauses. Clearly, this sister is not entirely clueless, despite her influence. As if the blonde knew something was up, something wasn’t right, her baby sister might not be as fine as it seems.

When the woman moves closer to the bed again, her summoned sickle raised, Donna is forced to back up yet again. She draws away undetected, resisting the urge to kill Bela on the spot. She knows, Daniela is not wholly hers yet. She would be certain to lose her should she kill her precious older sister.

Alas, she only stares at the younger woman, her dark eye full of hatred and annoyance, which Bela is oblivious to. Still, she shivers, oblivious to Donna’s presence but certainly aware that something isn’t quite right.

The doll maker pulls away the phantom hands, and again Bela’s head jerks to where they were just moments ago. Donna scowls as the woman gasps and leans down, gently cupping Daniela’s bruised ankle.

Upon seeing the bruises at her other ankle and thighs, too, she snarls and looks around the room, oblivious to where the intruder could be. With her sickle raised, she circles the bed like a predator protecting its young. She looks horrified at the sight of the burn at her sister’s back. Still, she wisely checks the room first, ripping open closets and checking the lock of windows.

Donna almost pities the woman, if she didn’t feel such hatred and possessiveness, too. It’s clear as day Bela is a direct competitor, someone so clearly set on protecting her sister from the unknown evil that is Donna.

She considers ending her, then, to knock her out and push her out the window, disallow the forming of her flies and watch as poor Bela falls from the highest tower where Daniela’s room is, her pretty head splattered on the cement below or her petite waist impaled by a spike of the towers.

Daniela stirs, whimpers in her sleep as though Donna had accidentally let the thought slip into her dreams.

Small, silent tears run down her cheeks even as she sleeps, mourning the loss of her sister she felt was far too real. Donna scowls angrily. No, she cannot yet take her sisters from her doll. She is not yet wholly hers, still held in the loving clutches of her family, protected in the castle as though they knew to shield the naïve woman from all danger.

Of course, Bela is by her side immediately, cupping wet cheeks Donna had licked only a little bit ago. She seems none the wiser, feeling only her sister’s tears. The dollmaker watches as the blonde lovingly pulls up the blankets, covering Daniela’s shivering body.

“Bela…”, she whimpers in her sleep, much to Donna’s dismay. Immediately, she tightens her grip on her doll, which leads to her lips sealing again and only a few tears to run past her cheeks again. No matter how hard she tries, no conjured dream of hers can calm her doll, her little head full of the delusion of her sister’s death.

“Dani? I’m here, sweetheart”, her sister tries to calm her, desperately. Donna’s grip on her allow no words to come through, and as such only more tears follow. The limp, sleeping woman is pulled towards Bela, her head caressed in an attempt to calm her.

“I’m here, little one, Dani, wake up!”, she pleads. Donna’s eye flashes angrily as more tears fall and lead to Bela shaking her sister. She starts a fight she’s entirely unaware of, battling Donna who is gripping and lashing harder to keep Daniela asleep. She will not have her doll tell her sister of her presence, of being marked by Donna. While she can convince delusional little Daniela that it was an act of love, her wiser, older sister will know better. She cannot know. She cannot be disposed of.

Just then she allows her grip to ease a little bit, of Bela’s words to reach the auburn haired woman.

“Damnit Dani! What’s going-“

“Bela…”, Daniela sighs dreamily, happy to know her sister is right there, safe, alive, right there. All was just a dream. She’s blissfully unaware she is still asleep, her perception blurry as though under water, yet Bela’s coos and calming words reach her.

Satisfied that her sister’s nightmare has stopped, the blonde no longer shakes her and attempts to wake her, losing the fight she didn’t know she started to begin with. A pity, almost.

Donna watches, pleased, as Bela stays with Daniela for a few more minutes, then rises from the bed again.

Leave, she thinks. It isn’t much longer until morning, until Bela will be suspicious of the hours of sleep her little sister is getting or decides to bring her family to examine the strange mark she found on the young woman.

As though reminded of it, Bela gently pulls the blankets down again, just enough to have Daniela’s back revealed and the brand shown again.

Clearly, Bela has seen it before. Donna is not surprised. She is a Lord of the village, after all.

The woman looks as though she searches for its meaning through her mind.

She knows, she will figure it out, see the moon and sun and realize it adorns the many items at the village and even the castle that symbolize the lords, this one symbolizing Donna specifically.

Then, a gasp, and the doll maker knows she has it figured out.

She doesn’t waste time, turns to her swarm form and makes way for the door again. This time, Donna reaches out to the pollen in the room.

First, Bela feels her grip on her swarm fading, gasping when she falls to the ground. Her eyes turn heavy, her limbs even more so. Donna watches, pleased, as the too-curious and suspicious and protective sister desperately tries to crawl, her movement slow and difficult as though she was stuck in thick mud that held her down. The poor thing opens her mouth, but her screams emerge with no volume to them at all, her pleas unheard. She almost makes it to the door, even, when a phantom arm burst forwards and grips at her ankle, gripping tighter than necessary and tugging her right back.

Bela whimpers as she’s pulled back against the bed in the middle of the room, her vision darkening by the second.

She gasps when she feels a pair of hands on her head, cupping her cheeks from behind.

“Sleep, Dimitrescu”

And as such Donna watches, pleased, as Bela’s body goes limp, her sickle clanking to the floor, her body held only in Donna’s arms now. She’s set to the floor, allowing the dollmaker to turn to her doll again. 

Daniela sleeps peacefully, blissfully unaware of what happened around her. She caresses her soft cheek, brushes her hair from her, then turns to her branded backside yet again. Daniela squirms and cries on the bed, forced asleep yet feeling every bit of the flashing pain as her back is burned more and more, yet no more marks appear. No, instead they seem to fade, digging deeper into her back until they are swallowed and covered by soft, but sore skin. More tears run down her soft, somewhat cubby cheeks. Donna almost coos at the sight. She drags her palm over the back in a featherlight touch, humming when the mark, while still there, deep inside, can no longer be seen or felt. She knows, the blonde will be checking for it come morning.

Ghostly fingers grab at the blonde and lift her, right next to her sister in the comfortable bed. Donna even tucks her in, removes her shoes and gloves and drapes Daniela’s arm over hers. She hopes the innocent display will fool the woman, make her believe it was all but a dream after comforting her sister and falling asleep in Daniela’s room. Donna doesn’t care that it doesn’t quite add up. She hopes, the confusion of it all and disorientation will break poor Bela’s mind, though suspects it will not yet.

She leans close to the unconscious woman, brushing blonde hair aside as she whispers in her ear;

“Poor Bela, such nasty nightmares you have been subjected to”

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 07

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings:

Words: 3639

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie

Previous:

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

The man's hands felt warm on your body, hugging you close to his chest. You could hear his heart in your ear, but your soft whimpers and sobs were louder.

The first to get to you was Hobi, who immediately went to your curled-up form. His arms were quick to also wrap around you, your back now warm and protected.

„Yah, what happened, Jungkook-ah?!” His voice had a pissed-off undertone to it. You were doing quite well the whole day, as far as he heard, and the photos Jimin sent to the group chat also looked happy and sweet, your small smiles warm and genuine.

When the youngest didn't reply immediately and you went to turn to the older, your hands reached for his neck. Right away, Hobi paid attention only to you, his warm palms picking you up and holding you to his chest. He didn't have time to say anything before the others came around.

„Kitty, baby, what happened?” Quickly asking you, Yoongi took one look into your worried and teary eyes and recognised the look all too well. Whatever went down at the mall when they first met you has happened again.

He wasn't a pro at comforting; he definitely wasn't that. But since he already had a bit more experience with settling an omega, which was really only you and his family neighbour, he didn't take much time to step in and help.

When he was younger, the family he lived with at the time used to have a neighbouring family pack that had an omega boy. He was only about a year or so younger than Yoongi, and so when the alpha presented at his 15th birthday, the second gender of his neighbour was soon revealed too.

A lot suddenly made more sense—the sudden states of anxiety, random panic attacks, or stressing for no good reason. He wasn't necessarily too friendly with that boy; Yeong-Su was always just a bit too shy for that. Even when the two family packs met up, they hardly talked—until one evening, during the New Year's celebrations, the omega had one of his first drops.

Such things are sadly just too common; simple things can bring them, and for the person who experiences them, they are more than terrifying. Often times, they can end up terribly.

Yoongi was the first one to notice the weird smell Yeong-Su suddenly carried. So when he got the opportunity, he led the omega away, asking him what was going on. The younger boy only burst out into tears, not being able to speak for a few long minutes.

The alpha was reminded of that smell when he was on his way to the liquor store with Jimin at the game shop, only to be abandoned after a few minutes. He wasn't too interested in new games like his younger packmates were, and so he decided to refill his own personal mini fridge.

He was very glad now that he was in the mood to drink back then; it brought him down to the bottom floor of the mall, where he smelled that scent once again, quickly realising what was going on.

Now he knew it was the same aroma once again, and there wasn't much he could do about it. There weren't many ways to settle upset omegas; it was just troublesome sometimes. Often, it was easy to cause bigger damage instead.

Coddling you, Hobi started to softly shush you in your ear, his voice once again gentle and light. Your face was buried in his scent gland, right at the junction between his neck and collarbone. His soft skin felt nice and cool against your warmed-up, tear-stained cheeks.

Letting him help you wrap your legs around his waist, he was quick to hold you securely against his chest, not wanting to even think of the chance of you falling. Yoongi sighed at how you looked, and he lightly patted your head.

„It's alright, my kitty. Just breathe for now. We will get through everything together from now on, yeah? Alpha got you, sweet baby.” His eyes were soft, warm, and calm. Even if he seemed quite alright on the outside, he could feel his heart beating quicker than usual.

Lightly nudging Hoseok towards the seats, the other man looked at him with a bewildered expression.

„Just sit with her for now. There is no use in standing around like this; it won't help. Just go get the food.” Looking at the others by the end of his sentence, he realised that, with how worried they seemed, they weren't about to move much further from you.

Forming a human wall around you unconsciously, the alphas stood tall and protective around the booth. It might even look a little silly to an unknown eye, but if you dare to walk a little closer and the heavy omega scent hits you, you will quickly understand.

Namjoon stood completely opposite you and Hobi, his back turned to you as he watched over every single person in the food court. His eyes were sharp and quick to notice any sudden movements. So when a different alpha went to pass by through the booth corridor they were in, he didn't take any time to get into action.

He knew deep inside that the random stranger didn't really mean any threat, but with how his hair fell unnaturally deep into his eyes, oily and unkept, he felt the sudden urge to protect his pack. It seemed a lot stronger than any of his naturally calm auras, so he didn't hesitate.

Taking a few quick-paced strides towards the shorter alpha, he stood in the man's way.

„Back off, man.” The guy almost bumped into the pack alpha, his eyes widening slightly. Looking up from the phone screen he seemed to be on beforehand, his brows furrowed a little. Measuring the other alpha up, the stranger went to push around his shoulder and continue on his way, but Namjoon was having none of that.

It was his pack's omegas that wasn't feeling well. Whoever this guy was, he just didn't seem to get the message.

Stepping to the side, he stood in his way, standing tall and protective. He didn't want this alpha to see you in your vulnerable state. That just wasn't something he would allow.

If you had a drop, then it was something very vulnerable for you to have happen. After you come back from your sudden mindset, it will feel too uncomfortable for you to know that someone you didn't know enough about might have gotten their scent on you slightly. That could have you dropping on them once more. definitely not what they wanted to go down.

The strange man sucked in a breath, about to start an argument. He really didn't have time for this, and it was stupid. But just then he caught the lightest whiff of the scent surrounding the table.

Quick to understand, his eyes grew a little wide. Mumbling a light curse word, he looked back at Namjoon.

„Yea, just... go the other way.” He didn't ask in a polite way; there was no reason for him to do so. He wasn't requesting; he was commanding. Nodding slightly, the other alpha pushed through the plastic chairs and went on with his day with no further issues.

Namjoon didn't move until he got the stranger out of his sight. When that happened, he didn't take long to rush back to his pack, quick to attend to any of your needs.

You were held close to Hoseok's chest, your face angled away from them. The man was mumbling small shushes in your ear, rubbing your back, and combing his fingers through your hair occasionally. He took the seat furthest from the opening, naturally taking you the furthest from any possible danger.

Yoongi stood close by, rubbing at your face and cheeks with his hands, the wrists cleverly held close to your nose. 'He is trying to calm you down with his scent gland', Namjoon realised, moving closer to you.

His big palm took up almost the whole back of your head, cupping it gently in a soft embrace. His body stood tall to cover you fully from any bystanders.

„Pup, it's alright. Don't cry, you poor thing; you are making Alphas all sad, see? What happened, sweetheart? What did Koo do? I'll beat him up for you, little pup. What do you say?”

The threat at the end of the sentence was mostly meant to be lighthearted, unless Jungkook, of course, messed up purposefully. If that was what happened, the pack alpha wouldn't hesitate to reconsider. He was sure his youngest packmate wouldn't do such a thing, though.

You didn't really answer; only a soft whimper left your throat, and Hoseok brought your face back closer to his neck. Running a hand through his hair, Yoongi crouched down next to you, well, as much as the space allowed. There wasn't a lot after all.

His palm rested on your hip, lightly patting it from time to time. „Hm? What is it, sweet kitty?” His voice was unbelievably soft and comforting, and your body went unconsciously lax at the sound of all the alphas coddling you.

Softly chuckling at the change in your earlier tensed-up muscles, a gentle, gummy smile appeared. Untucking your face from Hobi's neck, you looked down at the alpha, who was only a few tens of centimetres shorter than you now.

Meeting his eyes, he watched you with patience and care. Wiping at your teary eyes, your fist was left wet. Before you had time to rub your face again, your hand was quickly pulled away from it.

Your fingers intertwined, and your small palm immediately felt a lot warmer. With the smallest gasp, you looked up at Namjoon, his dimples showing fully. „It's really not good for you, small pup. Don't do that.”

Feeling shy, you went to cover back into Hoseok's inviting neck, but as you were about to fully rest against the crook, you were once again interrupted.

„..No, no, no, baby, kitty, look at me now. Hm.. aren't you just the cutest little thing? Look at you..” Mumbling, the alpha wrapped his warm palms around your cheeks, wiping off the tears that must have stopped only a few seconds ago with his thumbs.

He smiled at you, and your eyes stayed glued to his smile. Your grip loosened on Hobi's jacket, but he still made sure to hold you close. Reassuring you about their presence is a very important thing to do in such situations.

„Aigoo.. Yoongi has a nice smile, doesn't he? Here, go cuddle with Hyung for a second, my cub.” Passing you to his elder, Hoseok went to help the others that had disappeared earlier to bring the earlier discussed food.

Taking a seat back on the couch, the two alphas gave you their full attention. Placing you on his lap sideways, one arm around your soft waist, the other holding your head close to his collarbone, facing his neck.

Namjoon pulled your legs over his lap, letting your feet covered in the snow boots dangle off the side of his masculine thighs. Patting your calfs over the fabric of your pants, the alpha watched over you, only occasionally glancing away when he smelled someone passing by.

Taehyung hurriedly packed a plastic tray held by him, filled to the brim with different foods. Behind him briskly walked Jimin, his strides longer than they usually were. He held four big refillable cups in his hands, propping them up against his chest so they wouldn't fall.

Placing the tray in front of you and the two other men, Tae took a seat next to Yoongi. Quickly sliding to the right of Namjoon, Jimin followed soon.

„Here, babycheeks, I got you the orange chicken you wanted to try out, yeah? Don't be sad anymore, small baby; here, let me blow on it for you. It will cool down soon, hm?” Pulling the plastic recyclable plate from the tray, the alpha took a spoonful of the orange-coloured sause, a small piece of meat, and a bit of rice before he took it close to his lips, blowing on it softly.

Next to the pack alpha, Jimin started unpacking all four straws, putting on the lid covers, and pushing them in. Taking one, he put it right before you. „Drink up, princess; it's a green tea milkshake; it should be very tasty. The nice lady at the checkout recommended it.”

With one hand holding onto Yoongi's wrist, your other hand is outstretched towards the tall plastic cup with the panda logo. Taking the straw between your lips, you took the smallest possible sip, not feeling too hungry at the moment.

It tasted well—sweet but nice. The alphas all waited with bated breath, watching your reaction closely. When you pulled away from the drink immediately, they took it as a bad sign.

Quickly taking the cup from you, the pack alpha was quick to taste the drink himself, checking if anything was wrong with it. It didn't taste too off, so his worries about the milk being expired or something similar were quickly washed away.

„What lady? I'll go have a word with her.” Yoongi muttered under his breath, looking towards the Panda Express restaurant, his eyes sharp. You obviously didn't like it; was she dense? What's wrong with her tastebuds?

„..N-No Yoongi.. it's nice I-.. I just don't have much of an appetite right now.” You mumbled almost inaudibly. At the sound of your sweet voice, all the men were immediately looking at you, leaning in to hear your voice better. They didn't want to make you repeat yourself.

Sighing out once again, the alpha just leaned back into his seat, rubbing at the side of your waist in small circles.

„Just a little kitty. Eat at least a little for now, okay? We are proud of you for telling us, baby.” He voiced his thoughts, rubbing his chin over the top of your head gently. While you needed a lot of soothing at the moment, the agitated alpha in him also had to calm down.

Taking the now-cooled-down bite from Taehyung, you tasted the meal you never tried. It was really good—a little sweet and savoury but also a bit tingly. It was a nice mixture that you enjoyed a lot, quickly going back to take a second bite.

„Careful pup, it's still hot.” They knew more than well that the meal wasn't what was best for you, but they came to the conclusion that a little wouldn't cause a big issue. They hoped that if they just ordered a lot of different types of foods, they would eventually lean in and eat at least half of one meal.

Running his long fingers over your scalp, you could hear the soft jiggling of Yoongis bracelets in your ears. You liked the sound, so after a small second of blowing on another spoonful for you, you were quick to chew once more.

By the time you were going for another bite, Jungkook, Jin, and Hoseok were taking their seats. Worriedly watching over you, Taehyung let the youngest switch seats so he was closer to you. He realised that he felt the need to keep you close for now.

Jin talked to the youngest about what happened while they were waiting at the ramen noodles place, only getting to talking about how you just couldn't deal well with talking about your pack.

Deciding not to bring up the theme for now, Jungkook just wanted to make sure no big damage was done. With the whole pack around at the moment, he knew there wouldn't be that big of a problem for you to settle and calm back down into the happy little omega you truly were.

He didn't want to think about what would happen when only a few of them were around or when none of them were at all. It sent a strong pang of worry straight through his heart, and he promised himself that if that time came, he would do his best to help in any way.

Placing the high bowls of soup on the table, it was soon filled up with different kinds of side dishes. Different types of rice in small bowls, drinks, and coffee littered the small space.

Cupping your face, Kook's warm palms rubbed at your still reddened and plump cheeks. Closing his eyes for a second, the pack's youngest felt relief. You seemed to be a lot better than when Jin pulled him almost by his ear towards the food court lines.

„Are you okay, angel? I was so worried, baby. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do anything wrong, baby. Will you please forgive Alpha?" Looking deep into your eyes, he maintained eye contact, proving the genuineness he brought to his words.

Nodding gently, your lips shook only for a little bit before you were scented once again. This time it was Jungkook doing so, with the banana-like scent covering the top of your head.

Not much else happened during the ongoing meal, apart from the whole pack dotting on you. Warm palms went over your cheeks almost constantly, and Namjoon allowed you to rest over him the whole time you were sitting by the table. Yoongi didn't let go of you either; instead, he chose to keep you in his lap. He didn't eat too much, but when you went to bring the mouthful to his lips, he hesitated only for a small second.

After you really felt like you couldn't stomach any more food, you just placed the spoon on the side of the plate, leaving it there. Curling up into the alpha's chest, you breathed in the lavender scent, calming you even further.

With their calming scents wafting all around you, you closed your eyes once again. Soft head pats pulled you further into dreamland, and so with Yoongi's gentle words whispered in your ear, you nodded off.

„I'm here, kitty; rest for now. We will talk when you aren't so tired, my baby. Just sleep now; Alpha's got you. We will protect you.”

❄️

You woke up to the light swaying of being carried, your body propped up against the alpha's chest. Your eyes were opened only the tiniest bit, but you recognised the rest of the pack as they walked back downstairs the same way you came before noon. Walking down the steps carefully, your grip was strong.

Yoongi noticed you waking up with how you shifted just the smallest bit in his arms, your scent changing from a calm but vulnerable one to a stronger one.

„Kitty, can you tell us your address? We will take you home now, pretty kitty.” mumbling out the address of your apartment complex, you were just too sleepy to really realise what was going on.

Drifting off soon again, you only woke up when you felt the car come to a stop. Blinking your eyes open, you felt your seatbelt go undone before Jin was helping you out of the car, lifting you from the tall step to the pavement.

He could vividly imagine you falling down clumsily with how tired you still seemed, not noticing the tall step before you. Taking a hold of your hands, he bent before you, his warm eyes meeting your gaze.

„Sweetheart, where are your keys? We will go to your apartment with you.” His voice was kept in a gentle and calm tone, not wanting to startle you. He felt a little off, though. This was not the nicest part of the city.

It wasn't the worst by any means, but when he saw a bunch of people on the sidewalks, he felt a bit conscious about being in such a vulnerable space.

Pulling your key bundle from your jacket pocket, you handed them off to his opened palm. Thanking you, I led you towards your apartment doors. With Namjoon walking first and Yoongi and Jimin just at his tail.

They didn't really truly approve of this place; it had a wrong style to it, with some of the railing rotting and peeling off with how long it must have been here.

Stepping up to your apartment doors, there was a small, simple beige door mat before them. After unlocking your doors, the pack alpha pushed the doors open. You were sleeping once again, too exhausted from the day in Jin's arms.

Walking in, the pack dispersed through your space. Noting how small everything was, they grew more worried. With the oldest packmate sitting on your small couch and you resting against him, he watched over everything around him.

He wouldn't call this being lazy and unclean. No omegas were like that. He realised that very well, so it only pushed at the question at hand: what the fuck was your pack doing?

Leaving an omega unattended like this was terrible and just cruel. With only a few clothes in the closet, there weren't many blankets around either. They couldn't see a lot of pillows either; everything was kept to a minimum. You didn't even have a proper bed frame, for Christ's sake!

It was Taehyung who found the plastic box first. Tucked far from sight at the very bottom of your small wardrobe, it held a simple label written on a stick of paper tape.

Reading over it, he pulled it out urgently, opening it. There were all of your nesting materials, cleanly tucked in to take up as little space as possible. The thing that worried him was how dusty the lid was.

„Awhh, babycheeks. What have you done to yourself?” The alpha couldn't hold back the gentle whisper, mumbling to himself.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Next:

[fangbangerghoul]

Citrus and Melancholy

Fandom: LADS Rated: M+ Ships: past relationship with Caleb, eventual Sylus pairing Tags: Angst, single mom, parenthood, grief, eventual smut, love triangle, canon-typical violence, possession, obsessive behavior, suicidal thoughts, recreational drug use, alcohol, more to be added as story progresses Summary: Post explosion, singlemom!MC. Sophia is learning to live life with the weight of grief and regret. One lapse in judgement led to an unexpected course change and her inability to be vulnerable led to her never telling Caleb the most important secret of all. Years after his death she is still learning to live and grow alongside her daughter who has all the brightness that she thought she lost when her childhood home burned in flames. Now she's trying to reclaim who she once was and uncover what really happened the day of the explosion and unbeknownst to her she was going to run into someone who would forever change her perspective.

Chapters one through four published on Ao3 Chapter one under the cut

Part One: Restructure

Chapter one: The New normal

“Noooooo!” Sophia shouted from the top her lungs as she witnessed the burst of debris fall in flames around her. The smoke plumed above her childhood home and blanketed the area in tandem with all the regrets that were held in her throat. 

Her heart pounded heavily in her ears, the thudding fluttering like a rabbit’s. The realization of what was just lost settled along the dark tunnel of her skewed her vision. In the distance a wailing started to draw closer that wasn’t her own, a mixture of familiar cries and the high pitch of an emergency vehicle. 

She woke up. 

The wailing remained from the nightmare as it settled uncomfortably on her stomach. It was an anxiety that had proven over and over again no time would relieve. Sophia saw a pair of teary amethysts hover over her expectantly, confirming that the wailing was not the only thing that was real. Sometimes when she woke, she could still smell the ashes in her nostrils.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” She cooed, her fingers combing the solid black waves of hair that draped around the rounded toddler’s face. Sophia saw that there was still an hour before they both had to be up to start their day but it turned out, Melody had other plans. 

“Thirsty.” A muffled cried responded after sniffles, snot, and tears were wiped on her lovingly. 

“Okay, okay, come on.” Sophia grasped the under arms of her small child and lifted her to her chest to calm her. The weight of Melody’s body was a comforting relief from everything that was just outside this room. Habitually Sophia combed her free hand in Melody’s hair to soothe her while she carried them both to the kitchen. The pads of her feet making soft thumps as the cool hardwood floors sent goosebumps up the skin of her legs. 

The kitchen appeared cluttered but the special kind that resembled their busy day to day. It was full of dirty and clean sippy cups strewn about, crumbs and half eaten foods from experimenting with a toddler’s tastebuds, and random objects filling the remaining spaces on the counters and dining table. 

Sophia still felt groggy but she was able to get through the mess with her eyes closed. She put Melody on the counter and handed her a half-eaten fruit grain bar while she quickly washed a cup. In the mornings she always gave her daughter milk with toddler formula to ensure she still obtained the proper nutrients with how picky of an eater the small child had become. It wasn’t hard to occupy a toddler with snack food however and it gave Sophia the extra minute she needed to also set up her own morning juice, the darkest roast possible. 

“Thirsty!” The high pitch voice demanded. Melody was starting to throw her hands and feet about and Sophia kept an eye on her in case she threw herself off the counter. 

“Almost done, patience kid.” Sophia assures as she whisks the powder into the milk at lighting speed. She starts to feel around the counter for the top she had clean and finally caves in to turn on the stove light. The brightness stings her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to wake up even more, but it aided in finding the lid that somehow ended up down the other end of the counter. Melody reaches out to grab the cup as Sophia tightens the lid and instead of scolding her, she lifted her off the counter and placed her on her feet on the floor. Without having to say a word Melody ran off with her cup, clearly satisfied with the results and giving Sophia the extra breathing room she needed to fully prepare for the day. 

Sophia’s green eyes lingered onto the calendar that hung on the refrigerator and the same pit feeling she woke up with returned in the silence. Melody’s birthday was only a month away and Sophia finally was returning to the Hunter’s Association as of today. She still needed the final okay from her doctor but judging by the past year’s health improvements Sophia did not see a reason why Dr. Zayne would not sign off. 

Her breath caught in the back of her throat when her mind returned to seeing those teary amethyst eyes. Those eyes she adored and felt forlorn to gaze upon some days. They are a lingering memory and regret wrapped neatly into a future with endless possibilities, none of them being the one her heart had desired the most. Sophia shook herself out of her mind and took another large sip of her black coffee. It sent a shiver down her spine and the chills from it helped awaken herself out of her dreary dreamlike state that hung around her head. 

“Melody!” Sophia called out curious where her daughter was in their small apartment. She didn’t have many choices but still the 2-foot-tall child could hide very well when she wanted. It didn’t take long till she heard thumping down the hall and saw the bright-eyed child smiling, proud of herself. 

“Do you want to watch cartoons while Mommy takes a shower?” Sophia asked even though she already knew the answer. She figured always asking before doing things was a great way to teach her daughter early lessons in consent and in communication. Melody nodded with excitement and ran out into their living room before Sophia could ask a follow up.  

“The kitty cat one?” She had the remote in her hand, coffee in the other, and was already queuing up the television. 

“MR. ALLEY CAT!” Melody sung with fervor as she clapped her hands and started the cartoon’s dance. 

Sophia glanced at the time that was in the corner of the television and figured she had forty-five minutes before Ms. Jefferson came downstairs to sit with Melody for the day. It was a perk for talking with the neighbors at the mailbox room in the lobby that she was able to find someone as sweet and eager as Ms. Jefferson. The elder woman was always more than willing, and it was hard for Sophia to get her to accept any cash. On top of that Ms. Jefferson had a habit of cooking them all dinner when a side gig held Sophia up longer than planned.

cont on AO3

[detectivestucks]

A Jealous Hokage XV

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader x Obito

Summery: Last chapter babes! You start your new role as the intelligence department head and go on your first date only to be interrupted by work. The night's activities resulting in a surprise.

Warnings: NSFW, sexual teasing, toy usage, biting, nipple play, unprotected penetration, mentions of period.

Word Count: 7.3k

Art Credit: @akirasukuna

Part 14 New Here? Check out Part 1

A/N: Lightly edited so be kind.

There he is, the last person you wanted to see. So why did his mere presence in your doorway steal your breath? Maybe it was how he stood there tall and slender, hair in a pristine swoop, red armband snug around his bicep, and soft brown eyes focused on your starstruck face. 

The two of you stand there, staring at each other, unable to think, speak, or move. 

His apologetic face makes it all feel raw. Once more tearing open your wounds. Seeing his hurt expression did exactly what you feared it would. The love never went away, it pangs your heart to see him. How are you supposed to work together when there is this much tension caught between you? 

“May I…may I come in?”

“I guess”

Kakashi hesitantly strides into your new office, inspecting the floors, walls and oak desk.

“Congratulations by the way.”

“Thank you Lord Sixth”

Kakashi visibly cringes. “Please don’t ever call me by that title again.”

“Kakashi, there’s a time and a place-”

“Not with you there’s not.”

“Kashi…”

You don’t know what to say in response to the pain coating his face. He regretted it. He has so many regrets in his life but the ones that lead to losing you hurt the most. One expects to lose loved ones during times of war, but he never expected to lose you. He thought you were his just as much as he was yours, but he was wrong.

“How-how are you doing?” you ask

Kakashi looked down. A normal question for most conversations but between the two of you it was loaded like a gun.

“I don’t think I can bring myself to answer that honestly right now.” he says with downcast eyes.

Your gaze drops to the floor. “I’m sorry.” you whisper. You never wanted things to be like this between you.

In a deep low voice you hear Kakashi respond, “That’s what I should be saying to you.”

“You’ve already apologized enough.”

“No, I haven’t. I could never apologize enough.”

“Kakashi, I-” but the words get caught in your choked throat as your eyes turn up to see tears streaming down Kakashi’s cheeks while he continues to stare at the floor. You rush over to hug him, incapable of seeing him so heartbroken. You bury your face in his chest. “It’ll be okay Kashi.”

He silently hugs you and cries as you feel your heart being ripped from your chest. You did this to him. You caused him this pain. This is what regret feels like. You start to bawl into his vest.

“I’m sorry Kakashi. I didn’t mean it. I was just hurt and I felt like I was backed into a corner. I wish I could take it back.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” He squeezes you tight. “Please, I only have myself to blame.”

“No Kakashi, you’re a good man.” You lift your teary face from his chest to stare into his eyes. “Amazing in fact.”

Kakashi’s soft eyes sparkled as they looked down on you. Overcome by a wave of affection, he leans down to press his lips into yours when you pull back. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I-” 

That’s when it hit you. It felt wrong. Pulling away from Kakashi felt wrong. Trying to tell him there was someone else felt wrong. Choosing Obito was wrong. 

You look back up at Kakashi’s crushed face. There was someone else, he knows it. And he’s pretty sure who knows who too. “I’m sorry. I overstepped.” Kakashi quickly withdraws from your arms and retreats to his office, trying to collect his emotions. 

“Kakashi, wait!”

You run after him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling so he’d turn around and face you. “Please Kakashi, don’t go.”

“Are you dating him?” He snuffles

“No…it was only one night and we never got the chance to talk about it.”

“What do you mean you never got the chance?”

“He kinda freaked out when I said I was going to take the position with Gaara.”

That piece of news caught Kakashi off guard. “You were gonna leave?”

You bite your lip and l look to the side feeling a little awkward. “...well, yeah… I just didn’t have any reason to stay and it would’ve been a promotion for me so...”

Kakashi’s eyes fall to the floor. “I’m sorry I put you in a position where you wanted to leave. I-I would’ve really missed you but… I would’ve been proud of you too. It was a good offer.”

“Thank you…but please stop apologizing.”

Kakashi’s eyes fluttered up to look at you. “I don’t think I can.”

You feel solemn and need comfort. “May I hug you again?”

“You don’t have to ask”

You dive in to embrace him, squeezing him tight. 

“I still love you.” you whisper

“I love you too.” he whispers back. 

Tears leak out of your eyes as the two of you stand there holding each other. You almost feel yourself center as you soak in his body heat and his scent. You take one last deep breath before he speaks.

“I, um, I need to get back to my office. I have a mission briefing to complete.”

“Okay” you whisper as you withdraw from him.

He kisses the top of your head before he lets you go. His glassy eyes looking down at you with complete adoration. You catch his hand as it drops from your shoulder and hold it in yours.

“I uh-I think I need to have a talk with Obito…”

“Yeah?...”

You can hear the hope in his husky dry voice. 

“Yeah.” 

After giving his hand a quick squeeze you let it go, walking backwards towards your door, maintaining eye contact with him till you reach the threshold. You lean against the doorframe staring at him. A small smile gracing your lips. 

“I’ll see you later Kashi.”

He turns away to walk to his office when he stops and looks over his shoulder.

“See you later, Angel.”

A smile stretching his lips under his noir mask before he walks away. You linger a little while longer, watching him walk away before you turn back inside your office and close the door, finishing what you started. 

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

Kakashi sits down working on his mission report for Obito. After a half hour he hears a knock on the double doors. 

“Enter”

Obito turns the knob, stepping in a bit nervous. It was the first time he’d seen Kakashi since professing his love to you and he wasn’t sure how to act. Should he tell him? Should he ask permission to date you? Should he wait? He didn’t know what to do.

“Hey Kakashi”

Kakashi clears his throat, “Uh, Hey.”

Kakashi extends the mission briefing that was on his desk towards Obito. “Here’s everything you need to know for your next mission.”

“This is the one that’s gonna be a little over a month?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Obito grabs the scroll and unfurls it, giving it a once over. He turns to leave but before he walks out he pauses. “I’m sorry Kakashi...”

“I’m sorry too, Obito.”

Kakashi’s response caught Obito off guard. He had no idea why Kakashi would apologize to him. He had done nothing wrong, but instead of questioning him he just nodded his head and strode away heading home to pack. 

At his house Obito put a change of clothes, some food pills, and medical supplies in his pack. Stashing some creature comforts in his void, he stopped a moment in the vast gray space to think. He needed to see you. He didn’t want you to leave him but maybe he could come with you. The Leaf and the Sand were allies. Maybe they would welcome him, allow him to join their shinobi forces. Taking a deep breath he focuses on the image of your home and materializes there.

You leap off the couch out of terror. “Obito!! What the hell?! You scared me!”

Obito only laughs in his rich raspy voice that makes you close your eyes and hum. 

“Sorry Princess”, he says as he approaches and kisses you deeply in a breath stealing kiss.

You melt slightly in his arms, enjoying the feeling of him embracing you.

This is gonna be harder than I thought.

He finally releases your lips and presses his forehead against yours, “Hi Princess.” He pecks your cheek before standing up to his full height.

You take a moment to recover from the searing heat on your lips and cheek as you gather your wits. “Hi Obi”

You look up into his adoring eyes and feel yourself shrink. 

“I leave for a mission tomorrow and I wanted to talk to you.”

“I wanted to talk to you too.”

“I’d like to go first.”

You bite your lip before you agree, offering to sit down while you speak. Obito takes  your hand and begins to play with it, watching how he toys with your fingers as he speaks.

“I know you want to move to the Sand and if that’s what you need to do, I support you and maybe…maybe I’ll go with you.” His eyes snap up to your face, reading your expression. “I love you and, I-I want to make this work.”

You feel your heart twist in your rib cage. Your eyebrows falling to an empathetic gaze.

“Obito…I umm…”

He takes your hand and squeezes it, lifting it to his lips to give it a kiss. 

“Obito, I have news.”

“Yeah?”

“Lady Tsunade, she came to the flower shop last night.” he looks at you with keen interest. 

“And…she offered me the position of Intelligence Department Head.”

“That’s amazing!” He hugs you tightly and you can tell he’s brimming with pride.

“But-um, Obito, I…” You push him off of you to look him in the eye as you speak the next few words. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Obito, I, I don’t think-”

“-don’t say it.”

“Obito-”

“Please Princess, don’t.” He looks down in his lap and you can quite visibly see his heart shattering before your eyes. “I already know where you’re going with this.”

“Obito-”

“I was in Kakashi’s office earlier and he apologized to me. …now I know why.”

“I’m sorry. I have feelings for you but-”

“I already know.” Tears start to leak out of your eyes as he speaks. “You’ve always been his…I wish I had met you first. If I had just met you first then just maybe…”He drops his head defeated, tears freely falling from his lashline.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes…”

“But you love him more…”

“I’m sorry. I really am, but Obito, you don’t deserve to be someone’s second choice. You should be her first.”

“Not if she’s you.”

“No Obi.” You begin to cry.

He pulls you into a hug and you can feel tear drops fall into your hair. “It’s okay Princess. I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He squeezes you tighter before pulling back to kiss your forehead. Murmuring softly,

“I love you. I probably always will, so just be happy for me. Okay?”

“Okay” you sob.

He pulls you in for one more hug, “I gotta go finish packing for my mission. I’ll see you around, Princess.”

He releases you and stands up. His eyes locked on yours as he swirls away. Leaving you alone on your couch staring blankly at the space he left.

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

Sunday passed in a blur but now it’s Monday morning and you are a nervous mess. You changed your outfit several times before settling on a simple cream colored knitted body con dress with gold stud earrings, and low heels. You stride into your new office and take a seat behind the big oak desk, taking a moment to savor it. 

You hear a familiar light knock on the doorframe and look up to see Kakashi holding a flower in his hand. 

“May I come in Ms. Department Head?”

A smile splits your face. “Yes, Mr. Hokage.”

Kakashi walks in and extends the flower in his hand. “This is for you.”

“Thank you.”

You grab the flower, resisting the urge to pull down his mask, giving him a peck on the cheek instead.

“I’m sure Lady Tsunade will be in soon looking for you. There’s a translation about the Otsutsuki that she wants your opinion on.”

“Oh, that could be serious.”

“Yes, it could be. Plus she’s your biggest fan. …besides me of course.”

You can’t help the rose color that flushes your cheeks at his words. Looking at the ground unable to handle his flattery. A singular finger lifts your chin, causing your eyes to flutter up to his. 

“You’re going to be brilliant. You’re incapable of anything less.”

Your cheeks tint from pink to red. 

“Don’t go giving me a big head, Kashi.”

He chuckles and kisses your nose. “We have a briefing with the entire Intelligence Department in 30 minutes and then a council meeting right after. Then you and I are grabbing lunch. Okay?”

“Got it.” you smile with a nod.

Kakashi turns to leave just as Lady Tsunade walks in. 

“Lord Sixth”

“Lady Fifth”

The two smile as Kakashi turns down the hall.

“Well Y/N, I see you’re in your new office.”

“Yes. Just as you asked”

“And I see you and Kakashi are doing better.”

“Uh, I uh…” you scratch the base of your ponytail as Tsunade laughs at you. 

“Oh this is gonna be a fun day!”

“Lady Tsunade-”

“Relax! Come on, here”

She pulls out a small vile of sake from her coat pocket and takes a sip, extending it to you.

“Lady Tsunade!” you squeal with wide eyes.

“Come ooon! It’s not big deal. I did it all the time as Hokage.”

You quickly glance over to the door before taking the bottle and having a drink.

“Thata girl!”

“You’re so embarrassing.” you laugh as you hand the sake back

“Come on, let me show you what the current projects are before we get to the department briefing.”

“Sounds good.”

The rest of the morning went well. There was not a single smirk or snicker during your introduction as the new department head. Shiho talked to you afterwards and told you that they had been struggling quite a bit since you left. This gave you some vindication as you enjoyed the thought of them regretting their earlier teasing. 

The meeting with the counsel went well too. They did bring up some rules about interpersonal relationships which left you flustered but all around they seemed pleased to welcome you into their ranks.

After everyone was dismissed, you went to the breakroom to get some hot water for your tea. You stand up in the empty room and put your mug on the counter as you steep the tea bag when strong arms envelop you. 

“Hi” a deep whisper softly speaks in your ear.

“Hi” you hum back as you sink into Kakashi’s arms. 

You spin around to face him and bury your nose in his chest as your arms sling around his waist. He nudges the top of your head with his masked nose and you look up at him.

“There’s those pretty eyes I missed so much.” He smiles

“Yeah? What else did you miss?” you giggle

Kakashi slides your mug to the side and lifts you up onto the countertop, spreading your legs so he can slot himself between them. He lowers his mask before wrapping his arms back around you. 

“I missed these lips.”

“Yeah?” you breathe the sound barely audible as you lean in. 

Your mouths connect in a hot and passionate kiss swirling your minds and leaving everything hazy. You forget for a moment that you’re not on your kitchen counter at home as you moan into him, wrapping your legs around his waist and threading your fingers into his hair. Deep wimpers come from him as he pulls you closer, letting desire get the better of him. His hands fist your clothes and he feels himself about to get carried away when he pulls back. 

The both of you pant heavily as you calm yourselves down. 

“Sorry, I-I missed you.”

You nuzzle your face into his neck. “I missed you too.”

You continue to hold each other as you let your ankles unhook and fall to either side of Kakashi’s hips. 

Kakashi hears footsteps approaching and grabs your hand, to steady you as you hop off of the counter. 

“Lunch?”

“Lunch sounds good.”

The two of you hold hands as you walk through the halls. It felt right to stand by his side, your fingers interlaced with his. You hold your head high as you walk past the gawking faces. You weren’t going to let other people’s opinions bother you anymore. They can say what they wanna say. You know your worth and you know how you feel. You grip Kakashi’s hand tighter causing him to turn and look at you. He sees your lips pull up at the corners and he can feel his heart soar. 

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

After a week, everything was going good. Like really good. Not even your period could ruin your mood after the week you’ve had. The transition into your new position went smoothly and on Friday you left the building with a skip in your step. On your way out you stopped by Kakashi’s office but noticed he went home already. You couldn't blame him for slipping away after all the late nights he had this week. So you went on your way home to go relax on your couch. Only when you arrive home you find Kakashi standing outside your door with a bouquet of roses and baby’s breath. 

“What’s this?”

“Y/N, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

“Us? Go on a date?” You say with a smile on your face.

“Yes. A date. A real date. Like a real couple.”

“I don’t know, that sounds a little too normal for us.”

“Don’t make me beg.”

You laugh as you throw your arms around him. “Of course I’ll go on a date with you, but can we wait till my period is finished? I don’t wanna be all bloated and gross.”

Now it was Kakashi’s turn to laugh. “You could never be bloated and gross to me.”

You give him a smooch on the cheek. “I know, I know, you love running red lights.”

Kakashi laughs nuzzling into you. “So when can I take you out?”

“Monday.”

“Then I’m making a reservation for Monday.”

“A reservation? Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just dress to impress and let me handle dinner”

You give him a slightly suspicious look before breaking into a smile. “Fine, I guess.”

“Now about running those red lights…”

“Sorry, Mr. Horn Dog.” you say as you poke him in the forehead with your finger. 

“Fine …” 

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck before you finally move to put your key in the door. 

“Come on, let's go inside.”

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

All day on Monday Kakashi was an absolute tease. You walked into your office to find a bouquet of flowers already sitting on your desk with a note: Can’t wait for tonight, my Angel

You smile as you set the note down on your desk. 

During your weekly briefing with your team, you catch Kakashi slide into the back of the room. He leans against the wall, folding his arms, and gives you that stare you only see when he wants to take you in the closet. Your throat goes dry mid-sentence causing your voice to crack. You gave Kakashi a quick look before he smiled and walked out of the room.

In a council meeting he sits down next to you and keeps his hand on the inside of your thigh, making you clench your legs together. Moreover in the hallways, when no one is around, he presses you up against the wall, his breath tickling your ear as he tells you exactly what he wants to do to you during dinner tonight. The two of you hadn’t been intimate since before your last mission and the sexual tension is causing you to slowly snap. Finally you were nearing the end of the day, however, after a quick meeting in the Hokage’s office he corners you once the room is vacant. Kakashi cages you in with his arms and props his leg between yours. 

“Ms. Yamanaka, where do you think you’re going?”

The position steals your breath away.

“I, umm, I was going to go back to my office, Lord Kakashi.”

“I think instead you better head home and get ready for a very important evening.”

“I should?” you say as a whisper, still feeling breathless from the compromising position. 

“Yes, you have a very hungry man anxious to see you.”

“But I don’t get off for another hour.”

“Maybe the Hoakge is willing to grant you permission to leave early. He also wanted me to tell you to wear this.”

Kakashi slips out the pink vibrating pad from the Gala and pushes it into your hands. Your eyes dart back up to his and you immediately chew on your lip out of nervousness.

“Consider it an apology for sleeping with Obito.”

“Yes, Sir” you whisper in his ear as you tuck the pad away feeling your mouth going dry at the memory of last time he made you wear this.

“Now hurry home, Angel. I don’t want you to be late.”

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

Kakashi was right to send you home early. You took an extra long time getting ready cause you wanted to look perfect. Just like you did for the Gala, you style your hair into long soft waves, pinned back on one side. You bring out the earrings and bracelet Kakashi got you for the Gala, and slip on your strappy black heels. Standing in front of the mirror you smooth out the wrinkles in the black fabric with your hands as you admire your choice in dress. It was a beautiful all satin strapless corset top with a calf-length flowing chiffon skirt, complete with a little thigh slit just how Kakashi likes. 

You hear a light rap on the door and go to answer it. There stood Kakashi in a white button up with a black tie and gray dress slacks. And of course in the hands of the Copy Ninja is a bouquet of flowers.

“Wow Kashi, you look so handsome.”

“Look who’s talking. You are absolutely breathtaking, my love.”

He steps inside so he can remove his mask to give you a proper kiss. After your lips disconnect he hands you the flowers.

“These are for you, Angel.”

You take them and giggle. “At this rate I’m going to run out of vases Kashi.”

He lets out a light chortle before he grabs your waist and pulls you near.

“You ready for dinner?”

“Of course.”

Arm snug around your waist, the two of you walk to a beautiful and very fancy restaurant. Apparently it was an establishment frequented by the Feudal Lord. They had live music and extravagant decorations. Everything was plated in gold, the walls, the plates, the chopsticks. You felt timid to touch anything so expensive, lest you break it.

“Kashi, this is quite the space”

“I wanted to go big for our first date. Plus there are certain perks to being Hokage.”

“I don’t know if I belong in a place like this.” You say as your eyes dart around the room nervously.

“Angel, you most definitely fit in a place like this. You are finally standing in a room almost as beautiful as you are.”

Kakashi tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear looking down on you with every drop of adoration a human could possibly muster. The two of you are led to a secluded table near the back of the restaurant. You sit down beside each other and not a second too soon your breath hitches as Kakashi turns on the pad. Your hand immediately shoots out to clutch his bicep in an attempt to brace yourself. Kakashi cooly reaches over, resting his hand on your thigh, stroking it with his thumb.

“Something wrong dear?”

You turn your head with wide eyes and Kakashi increases the intensity. Your fingers dig deeper into his arm as you attempt to catch your breath.

A huge smirk is seen under his mask. 

“It’s not funny Kashi!” you say in a panic, feeling yourself pant from the vibrations tickling your clit.

“I’d beg to differ. Now be a good girl and enjoy yourself.”

“Kashi-”

“Good Evening!” The waiter interjects.

“Good Evening!” Kakashi greets sitting up straight

“Hi” you say looking down. Redness flooding your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Can I start you off with any drinks tonight?”

“Two glasses of awamori, please”

“Great, and have you had a chance to look over the menu?”

“Actually we will get two of what the Feudal Lord normally has.”

The waiter raises a brow at Kakashi, knowing the price tag of the meal but Kakashi simply smiles beneath his mask and nods. Satisfied, the waiter returns the nod and heads to the kitchen. As soon as the waiter is out of earshot Kakashi turns off the pad allowing you to breathe. 

“Well that was fun.” he says as you pant beside him.

“It most certainly is not.”

Kakashi turns the pad back on. “I wholeheartedly disagree.” he muses before leaning in and whispering in his deep voice, “I love watching you squirm in public.”

“S’not fair, Kashi.” you cry as your eyes screw shut in the intense pleasure of the vibrator. 

“Sweet Angel, can we have a nice meal before you get so needy?” he jests 

You open your eyes pleading with him to turn it off. You feel your underwear soak and you’re worried your arousal is seeping onto your dress.

“Tell me, how wet is my Angel?”

“Kashi,” your hand goes back to gripping him “People will think I’ve wet myself.”

You spread your legs and readjusted the position of your hips to let the pad sink between your folds even more.

“Mmmm, seems like you wanna ride.”

Your head nods to the side, your mouth falling open. You feel yourself going dumb to the stimulation and shift slightly back and forth on the pad.

‘What a good girl.”

You turn towards him and bury your face in his shoulder. “This is so embarrassing.” you whisper as you continue to rut on the pad.

“I’m going to need you to cum before our waiter gets back, my love. I’d hate for him to see you like this.”

Your embarrassment dusts a shade of crimson on the tips of your ears as you rub more purposefully against the pad. Kakashi bumps up the vibrations and your knees begin to shake. Your breath catches in your throat before you fully collapse against Kakashi. Finally he turns off the toy right as the waiter arrives with your drinks and food. 

Everything about dinner was nothing short of amazing. The food, the drink, the conversation, you wanted to commit every moment of it to memory. This was turning into one of the best nights of your life until a member of intelligence approaches your table. 

“Lord Hokage, forgive me. A raven came in, they need Ms. Yamanaka’s assistance urgently.”

You and Kakashi look at each other, then back at the messenger. 

“Give us a moment to settle our tab and we will be right there.”

The three of you make your way over to headquarters, speed walking across the village in your high heels. As you walk you are briefed on the situation. The Sand asked for an emergency intelligence consultation. A band of rogue shinobi have been raiding the outskirts of the village but are starting to escalate in violence. Tonight they came across a warning in an unknown language. They don’t know if it’s a cypher or a dead language but since the Leaf is notorious for their intelligence team’s translations, they are asking for your help. The only clue they can make out is the date which shows tomorrow. 

Upon entry, you ask that the memo and the scroll be brought to your office where you have your textbooks. All the usual faces arrive including Shikamaru and Shiho. Much to your dismay it is not in fact a rare language but is rather a cypher. 

“Kakashi, can you get Gaara on the phone? We’re gonna need someone with more knowledge about the Land of Wind to help us crack this one.”

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

With the help of Gaara, Timarri, the Sand’s Intel team, as well as Kakashi, Shiho, and Shikamaru, you discovered that the note worked two ways. With one letter shift, it warned of a bombing to the village gates, however with a different letter shift it warned of a robbery to the village treasury. Shikamaru was the one who wondered why the bandits would warn of the bombing when they had never left clues for an attack before. Something told you it was an ego feeding itself and there may be more to the message than what they originally thought. It was quite an impressive feat. You felt disappointed in the decisions of the brilliant mind who could pull off such a work of art as this cypher. It was one of the most impressive intel projects you worked on. 

You dismissed everyone around 4am however you and Kakashi stayed behind to finish up the paperwork that went along with the request and put together the invoice for Gaara. You felt so tired you didn’t think you could walk home. Kakashi suggested that the two of you spend the night on the sleeping pad in his office. You happily agreed and thought it was a humorous turn of events to have to have pulled an all nighter on your first date. It definitely fits your love story.

You and Kakashi enter his office, holding hands and lock the door behind you so no one will disturb you as you sleep through the day tomorrow. He pulls out the small mat he keeps on hand for days like this and climbs in with you, both still wearing your dress clothes. 

Though the mat was small you shared it while you cuddle under a wool blanket. You lay facing each other, Kakashi with his mask off, each staring into the other’s eyes. The two of you memorizing your faces in the pale light of night. You couldn’t help but get lost in his mahogany irises, watching how they bore into you.

You gazed at his face, feeling his chest push into yours with each deep breath. Each inhalation coursing oxygen through your vessels, replenishing the weary cells, and centering your mass. You tuck your arms into your chest while he holds you close. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he suddenly confesses. You realize he’s not talking about your date getting interrupted but about everything since the gala.

“I know,” you whisper. “and I’m sorry too.”

Like magnets, your lips draw together. A long soft kiss, resetting the balance of the world. The usual butterflies returning to your stomach as you lay with him. He is your person. He owns your soul. This is a fact. No matter the difficulties, you will always fall back into his arms.

As you kiss you begin to feel hardness form on your thigh.

“Sorry.” Kakashi says, embarrassed. “We haven’t, you know, in awhile and now that you're here it just um…”

You smile, “I see I was missed.”

“So much” He says as he dives back in to kiss you but this time with more heat. You return his passion as you lift your leg wrapping it over his hip. He rolls on top of you, laying all his weight on your chest before tucking his knees between your legs and pulling you up into his lap. You sit straddling him, rolling your hips and you feel his erection through your pants. It’s enough to make you moan. 

“I missed those sounds. I thought I would never hear them again.” he says as he buries his face in your neck pushing his hips up into yours.

He begins to suck on your neck. “Kashi, please, people will see.”

“Sorry” he whispers as he lowers his head to suck at the top of your breast.

“Just take the damn thing off if you’re gonna do that.” you say.

You don’t have to tell him twice. Your black dress disappears to a dark corner of the office before you could take your next breath. 

He runs his thumbs over your collar bone, tracing your shoulders before he drops his gaze. He stared intensely at your chest. His eyes tore over your smooth skin now adorned with goosebumps. He studied the peaks and valley of your breasts, ingraining them into his memory. The small bumps around your nipple and the color of your areola, memorizing it all. He lowered his head to taste the familiar soft skin, salty from the day's toll. He licked the entire surface, savoring the flavor before making his way to the nubs. He lightly petted them with his tongue. They were delicate but they were too tantalizing and he couldn’t resist the urge to sink his teeth around them when they were so close to his mouth. You let out the most erotic whine he has ever heard and it’s enough to make precum soak through his briefs. 

Pushing you down on the ground he rips off your panties and rids himself of his clothes. He needs you now. He attacked your chest with his mouth unable to restrain himself. Your breathy moans as he assaulted your sensitive skin were euphoric, ringing in his ears. He could’ve cum from your sound alone. You planted the soles of your feet into the floor as your hips bucked up, rutting your fluids all over his chest, one hand in his hair,  while the other searched for fantom bedsheets to hold on to. 

“Kashi, don’t stop.”

“‘Wasn’t planning on it.” he breathed as he broke your skin. Blood pooling in his mouth. He sucked on the copper taste, licking his lips before trailing down your body. 

“So fucking wet for me. Always so wet. I could feed myself for the rest of my life down here.” he says as he dives in on your slippery folds. Bare feet still planted, now both hands search for something to grab onto as his tongue plays with your slit. Diving in and out, nose tickling your bundle of nerves, he was a ravenous wolf and your hips straining to free yourself from his jaws.

“Kashiiiii! Oh gods!” You raised your hand, grabbing a fistfull of his hair, pushing him into your heat as he happily lapped away licking and sucking on your lips and clit.

He kissed a trail of hickies up to your collarbone before licking along your clavicle and the column of you neck. He landed a wet sloppy kiss on your mouth while he aligned his tip with your slit. Prodding your clit as he rubbed your labia with his shaft.

Your mouth dropped into a sinful O as he pulled back and slid inside of you. You exhale with a broken breath, feeling the familiar stretch. You melted into a puddle under his strong figure. He could swear he saw stars in your eyes as you gazed up at him. 

Establishing a slow rhythm, he savored the feeling of his veins catching each ridge in your gummy interior. Nothing felt more like home than being inside of your warm walls, having them hug his manhood tightly as you lost your breath with each stroke. 

He holds his body close to yours, feeling your stiffened peaks rub against his chiseled chest while he glides in and out of you. You feel the tension build in your lower abdomen. Each sweet kiss of your cervix eliciting a soft sound from your lips directly into his ear. You could feel him twitch with each little noise. 

One of your hands grabbed a firm hold of the back of his neck but the other wandered freely. Slowly exploring his arm, then his chest and gliding up to his back, feeling the scars of battles fought long ago. Thrusts continue to slide his girth in and out of you, still you aimlessly glide your hand along each indent of muscle overlapping with another, feeling up his spine and into his hair. He closed his eyes as you toyed with the silver strands. Focused on the feeling over his entire body, not just what your cunt was doing to his length but on every touch of your delicate hands. 

He was brimming with love for you. It was taking over his entire body. Studying each stray strand of hair, each eyelash, each pore on your skin, lowering his gaze to your newly adorned chest, covered in fresh love bites. He started to snap up into you sharply, feeling himself ready to cum. 

“I love you, Y/N” he whispers

“I love you too, Kakashi” you breathe back

And with your confession you feel the familiar wave of orgasmic warmth flood through your body reaching each finger and toe. Kakashi thrusts as he finishes, letting your needy walls milk him for all he’s worth. Once done he falls on top of you, tip still inside, catching his breath as his spend begins to leak out.

Grateful that he locked the door ahead of time, you and he fall asleep just as you are, on his tiny sleeping pad with only a wool blanket covering the Hokage’s bare behind, feeling the kind of peace of mind that had eluded you for months.

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

Life sped past over the next few weeks. You took really well to your new role and all the teasing you used to receive for dating Kakashi finally slipped down the storm drain. You felt at peace but furthermore you felt a sense of smugness knowing that they now know how much they need what’s between your ears. They no longer care about who’s between your legs and the more you and Kakashi interact publicly, the less stares you receive. Everything is finally going according to plan. 

You sit at your desk and start to think about lunch when you smell something wonderful waft down the hall. It smelled like someone was cooking something over a campfire. Suddenly craving whatever was being had in the break room, you decide to head down the hall so you can ask what it is. When you step into the break room you see none other than Obito standing there holding a bowl of chicken and sticky rice.

“Obito?”

“Hi Princess.”

You feel your chest tighten, your eyes closing at the sound of his voice saying your nickname.

“How-um-how…how was your mission?”

“Long, but it gave me plenty of time to think.”

You feel your stomach flip in anxiety. “Obito, I’m so sorry.”

“I know Princess I-”

“Oh my gods!”

You run to the trash can and throw up what was left of your breakfast. 

“Princess, are you okay?”

“Sorry, I just ah-I guess I’m not feeling well.” You didn’t want to admit that the guilt of everything made you empty your stomach of its contents. 

“Hmm, maybe you should go home.”

“I’ll be fine.” you say feeling incredibly embarrassed.

Obito gives you a questioning look. 

“Really, I’ll be fine. Maybe just some rice and water for lunch and I’ll be fine.” you say with a shrug as you speed walk away from the break room. You turn towards Kakashi’s office hoping he had some water for you to rinse out your mouth when you realize the smell of ramen is getting stronger with each step in his direction. Sure enough, when you open the door to his office the smell hits you like a ton of bricks. You try to wave the smell away from your nose with your hand as you speak.

“Geez, Kashi, what’d they put in your ramen?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a bit strong, don’t you think?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your ramen. I can smell it down the hall.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Do you have water?”

“I think I have some over in that corner.” he says as he points “Why? Forget your tea?”

“No, I just threw up and I need to wash out my mouth.”

“You threw up?”

“Yeah. I smelled some delicious campfire smell and then I ran into Obito and felt sick all of a sudden. It was really embarrassing.”

“You smelled Obito?”

“What?! No! I smelled a campfire and…oh.”

“Angel, when was your last period?”

“Right before our date…”

“Angel, I think we need to get you checked.”

You zone out a bit as you consider what this means. You look over at Kakashi, “But I’m on birth control. You really think that we’re, that I’m...”

“Possibly.” 

Kakashi rounds his desk and kisses your forehead before pulling you into a hug. 

“Kashi…” you whisper, ‘I still haven’t rinsed my mouth out yet.”

He chuckles and lets you go to grab your water. “Here, make it quick cause I want to kiss you.”

You blush and take the water and swish. You chug the remainder of the bottle before Kakashi pulls you into him to kiss you as if it were your wedding day. When your lips disconnect he holds you close, eyes closed, foreheads touching.

“What was that for?”

“Marry me.”

“What?” Kakashi opens his eyes and stares at you through your lashes.

“Marry me.”

“Are you joking??”

“No. I want to marry you. I’ve wanted to marry you from the day you first saw my face.”

“Kakashi, we don’t even know if I’m pregnant.”

“It’s irrelevant. I love you and I want to marry you. What do you say?”

“Kakashi, are you seriously proposing after I just threw up?”

“I’ll give you a real proposal later. Just tell me yes.”

You swallow and nod your head, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He squeezes  you tight and spins you around the room.

“Kashiiii I’m gonna throw up again.”

“Right.” he says as he sets you down, “Let's get you to a doctor.”

Leaving his lunch behind, you and Kakashi interlace your fingers as you walk down the hallway and out the building towards the hospital. The medical staff set you up in a room with a paper gown, where the two of you wait for Sakura to join you.

You’re swinging your legs as you sit on the table when finally a head of pink hair comes breezing through the door.

“Kakashi sensei, do you mind explaining why my other appointments got bumped back fifteen minutes?”

“I needed you to check on Y/N.”

You wave your fingers, feeling a pink tint your cheeks. Sakura’s eyes scan you up and down and she understands. She pulls the sonogram cart from the corner and asks when your last period was.

“It was about 7 weeks ago.”

“And you’re just getting checked?”

“I didn’t really think about it. Time kinda slipped by plus I’m on birth control so I didn’t think-”

“Well things can still happen.” Sakura squirts jelly onto a probe and directs Kakashi to sit near your face. “This is gonna feel a little cold.”

“Okay” You nod before looking over at Kakashi and nervously grasping his hand. You feel the probe get inserted and soon after you hear a tiny fluttering pulse. You watch as Kakashi’s eyes widen with joy while looking at the screen. You peel your pupils off of him and turn to look.

“Yup, congratulations you two! You’re having a baby!”

Alternate Ending coming soon.

Masterlist