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fandom-puff · 3 months

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Fulfilling Duty

Pairing: Tywin Lannister x Reader

Warnings: smut, pinv sex, fingering, reference to pregnancy and childbirth, brief reference to death during childbirth, reference to prostitution, implied arranged marriage, breeding kink, body image issues, implied innocence kink, older man/younger woman.

Italics indicate flashback

Gif creds to owner

After nine long months of pregnancy and two gruelling days of labour, Tywin Lannister finally had the son he craved. Little Darrick was perfect in every way. At almost four months, he guzzled his milk the way King Robert his guzzled his wine; he roared like a lion when something was amiss, fat angry tears pouring down his reddened little face until his mother or father consoled him; his hair thickened and lightened every day, though he showed no trace of Lannister emerald eyes (much you your elation; he already looked so much like Tywin so it was nice to see a shred of yourself in your son’s face).

The birth of your son only strengthened Tywin’s… affection towards you. It was not love- not yet at least- but his respect and fondness certainly grew. During the home stretch of your labour he had barged into the birthing room after overhearing an outspoken courtier’s gossip.

Your labour had dragged on and almost two whole days had passed since you first started having pains. While you had started in relatively high spirits, as progress began to falter almost to a halt and ‘one more push’ became an empty promise, your resolve almost completely shattered.

What had started as determined groans and howls of pain turned into whimpers, and then sobs as you begged the maester to just, please, get it out of you.

It seemed Tywin hadn’t unclenched his jaw for days, and while he wanted to remain just a room away in his office should he be called into the room, the Seven Kingdoms would not stop for any infant, not even the son of the Hand.

He had been walking back from an audience with disgruntled artisans from the city when he overheard some courtiers.

“… glad she’s shut up with the screaming, could hardly sleep a wink last night…”

“… should just cut her open, drag the babe out and have done with it… wouldn’t be the first Lannister woman to die in childbed…”

“… he’ll want another off her, just in case… especially if she gives him a girl…”

Tywin’s nostrils flared with rage, and while he would have so dearly loved to confront the gossiping courtiers, he marched to the tower of the hand, entering your chamber to the shock of your midwives and maester.

“Milord! Women’s work is still happening! The baby ain’t here yet,” scolded Jeyne. She was the eldest of the flock midwives attending you and the most experienced too, and had been crucial in supporting you.

Tywin held up his hand, and jeyne pursed her lips, knowing she could not argue. “Fine. But you’re not to interfere down here, milord. We’re nearly there,”

“You said that- ah- last night,” you said weakly, your voice shaky. Tywin sighed softly and knelt at your side, pushing your hair away from your face. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, one that he had done when you consummated your marriage. “‘M sorry, m-my lord,” you whispered, unable to stop the tears from slipping down your already damp cheeks.

“You needn’t be,” he said lowly, speaking so only you could hear. “You are doing well, just a little longer,”

Although the midwives and maester had repeated the same words over and over again over the last day, Tywin’s firm, authoritative voice reassured you, renewing your determination.

Tywin’s eyes flicked sideways to you. It was the first public event you had attended since giving birth, and he had kept a close eye on you all day. He’d even insisted on your retiring to bed for several hours in between the joust and the feast (“fine, I’ll rest. But only because I didn’t want to watch the archery anyway,”).

If you were tired, it did not show. You looked radiant, smiling serenely as you clapped for the dancing. You had changed into a gown of soft pink brocade, and while he always preferred to have you on his arm in matching Lannister red, he had to admit that the muted pink suited you beautifully, and provided a fresh and youthful contrast to his daughter’s sour, almost vulgar even by his standards, display of power.

“If you continue to glance at me so, you will miss the dancing, husband,” you said out of the corner of your mouth, bemused at the almost uncharacteristic attentiveness of the Old Lion.

“Then I shall miss the dancing,” he said lowly, though he kept his eyes dutifully on the entertainments. “Are you sure you will not sit?”

You rolled your eyes, turning to face him fully. “No,” you said with exasperation. “I am well rested, I promise you, My Lord,” your lips quirked into a smirk. “I may even join in with the dancing,” you added.

Tywins jaw clenched as he looked down at his mischievous young wife. Your pregnancy and subsequent birthing of a viable heir for him had consolidated your power in court- and your worth in the marriage. “Then you shall dance only with me,” he said. “I will not have you jostled so,”

And so the Lord Paramount of the West took his wife by the hand and led her to the dance floor, lest she be manhandled by less careful members of court.

Grinning, you held onto his hand, beginning the steps that you had known since childhood. “I so love it when you give in to my whims, Lord Lannister,” you murmured, laughing lightly at his grumble of agreement. He supposed he owed you a fair bit, now that you had given him his heir.

“You are as stubborn as a mule when you want to be, wife,” he muttered, pulling you closer to his body by the waist as a drunken jester weaved through the crowd, his motley cap jingling. But despite his complaints, Tywin permitted you two more dances, before you retreated from the crowd- the bawdy songs had began, and he would not have his wife passed about like the maidens in the songs.

Instead of sitting back down, Tywin took you before the king, bowing and excusing the two of you. “We must retire for the night, your Grace. Lady Lannister is very tired,” he said shortly, bowing once more as the king waved you away.

You followed him, your face indignant, but you did not dare question him until you were out of earshot of any high lords. “I most certainly am not tired, My Lord,” you said, running a little to keep up with his long strides. “I do not need to be bundled off to bed like a child- again,”

Tywin ignored your complaints, only speaking once you arrived at the entrance to the Tower- and even then he only spoke to the guard at the door. “No one is to enter this tower until tomorrow,” he said lowly, before all but frog-marching you through the door and up the winding stairs.

“My lord?” You asked cautiously when you arrived at his chambers. “Have I displeased you?”

Tywin turned around to face you. “No, wife,” he murmured, stepping closer to you so that you had to look up at him. “You have not displeased me… exasperated, perhaps, but not displeased,” you smiled slightly, opening your mouth to speak, but Tywin cupped your head with both of his hands, his thumbs stroking your jaw. “I intend to bed you tonight, My Lady,” he said, voice gravelly. Your face heated, but you nodded slowly. “Your body should be ready to take me once more,” he continued. “That is if you are agreeable?” He added, raising a brow. He had laid out from the beginning that while he expected you to do your duty and provide him with a son, he would not have you in his bed unwilling.

Nodding slowly, eyes wide as you stared up at him, you let out a shaky breath. "I… yes. Please," you murmured your consent, following him out of the solar to his adjoining bedchamber, where the hearth was crackling and the luxurious bedsheets were already turned down. Tywin poured out a cup of wine, offering you it, nodding when you smiled at the vintage before finishing the cup for you.

“Do you think it will hurt?” You murmured out of the blue, taking your jewellery off and setting it on his dresser.

“It may be a little uncomfortable, perhaps. Not as painful as childbirth, I’m sure, nor breaking your maidenhead,” your eyes widened at his words and he smirked. He so loved to see you flustered. “Such an innocent, wife,” he said, stepping closer to you and undoing the pins in your hair. He nodded his approval when you unwound the braids, shaking out your hair.

“It has been a while…” you considered, looking up at him in the mirror as he stepped behind you, beginning to unlace your gown.

“It has,” he said in agreement.

“Will you be gentle with me?” You whispered, eyes widening as his hand slipped up your front, over your breasts, lightly squeezing your throat before he tilted your head to the side.

“Absolutely not,” he growled into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his teeth grazing there as your gown fell stiffly to the floor.

You made to turn to begin undressing him, but he lightly batted your hands away, continuing to strip you of your stays and chemise until you were bare before him.

Eyes downcast, you made to wrap your arms around yourself; your pregnancy had left it’s mark on your body, your belly soft and marked with stretch marks, your breasts hanging heavier than they had when you first married. Tywin held your hands by your sides briefly, before his large hands claimed your hips, his thumbs massaging the softness of your belly. “I want another babe in your belly before year’s end,” he said lowly, making you shiver. “I want to watch you swell again with another of my heirs,”

“Yes, my lord,” you breathed, your breath hitching as he gripped your hips tighter, drawing your naked body to his, your skin hot against the cool metalwork of his belt and buttons. Slowly, he began to walk you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed, and he helped you up onto the mattress, his eyes blazing with lust. His green-gold eyes pierced you as he removed his chain of linked golden hands, his doublet, his boots and trousers too. Your eyes flicked down briefly as you admired your husband’s build; despite his age, Tywin was fit and strong, and your glance did not go unnoticed by him.

Tywin got up onto the bed, looking down at you as he came up between your legs, which fell apart willingly to allocate his breadth, to which he hummed with approval, his hands dragging up your thighs. You sighed softly as your body refamiliarised itself with the weight atop it, offering him a soft, shy smile. He returned it with a rare quirk of his lips, before his fingers teased closer to your exposed core, shushing you gently when you gasped. Whimpering, you arched your back as he dipped his fingers into your waiting wetness, body tense. “Are you in pain, wife?” He said lowly, his movements stilling.

“No…” you whispered, pushing your hips up to his hand as if to reassure him.

He nodded, looking down at you as his fingers worked you open for the first time in months, though he did not seem out of practice in the slightest. He watched intently as your face contorted, brow furrowing and mouth falling open, and your body twisted while you clenched around his fingers. When he felt the erotic spasming of your inner walls, he nodded and hummed with satisfaction, before withdrawing his fingers. You watched in awe as he used your release coating his fingers and dripping onto his palm to slick up his cock.

“You look as though you belong in a pleasure house in Lys, spread out like that,” he said, his voice gravelly with desire. And he had a point; your breasts rose and fell with shaky, heavy breaths; your eyes were now dark with lust, brow furrowed and lips plump as you stared down at him, propped up on the pillows with your hair splayed out.

“Are you calling me a whore, My Lord?” You questioned, pushing yourself up on your elbows.

“No,” he said, guiding his cock to you. “But if you were a whore, you would be mine alone,”

He grunted, pushing into your tightness. With a cry, you tossed your head back, your nails clawing into the Lion of Lannister’s muscled back and arms as you adjusted to his invasion. You hissed out a curse between your teeth, gasping as he stilled, smirking down at you. “Such deplorable language,” he said, and you could only whimper in response, gritting your teeth and scratching at his back. Despite his promise to not be gentle with you, he held you tight to his body by your thigh, massaging the quivering limb with his hand as you adjusted to the suffocating tightness of your union. With a needy whine, you rolled your hips experimentally, grinding your clit against his pubis. The resulting tightening of your channel had him hissing in pleasure, and with a low groan he began to move with slow deep thrusts that had your head spinning.

One hand still gripping his bicep like a vice, you trailed your other hand over his shoulder anchoring yourself as you made feeble attempts to meet his movements. Grunting, Tywin grasped onto your hips, before moving his grip to your thighs, holding them apart as he began to fuck you harder, faster. You cried out at the shift in pace, arching your back as Lord Tywin took his pleasure (though he gave just as much as he took). He let out a groan of pleasure as his own thighs trembled and his hips stuttered, and he emptied his seed into you.

Moaning lowly, you fell back into the pillows, panting. You felt the bed dip then settle as he withdrew from you and stood, and your eyes slipped shut as you heard him rustling about the room, the door slamming shut. You frowned. He must have dressed quickly. With a sigh, you stood up, albeit shakily and slipped your chemise back on. His thick seed seeped down your thigh as you stood before the mirror, combing out the tangles in your hair with your fingers.

The door opened, and Tywin stepped into the room, but before he acknowledged you, he turned to what you assumed was his squire. “Have the servants bring up two plates from the feast, and a flagon of Arbor Gold,” he said to the lad, who responded with a quiet ‘yes, My Lord.’ “And see to it that Lady Lannister’s handmaidens know to come here on the morrow with her gown and jewels. She will be staying here tonight,”

He dismissed the squire with a nod and shut the door, turning to you with raised eyebrows. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to return to my own chambers, my Lord,” you murmured, finally able to smooth your hair down over your shoulders.

“Indeed not,” he said simply. “I was merely arranging some supper and wine,”

You crossed your arms. “And for my handmaidens to come here on the morrow?” You teased.

Tywin only smirked, prowling over to you. “Indeed,” he said. “It would seem, wife, that we must return to bed…” you cocked your head to the side, looking up at him curiously. “An heir will not find its way into your belly if my seed is dripping down your thighs, now, will it?”

#tywin lannister fic #tywin lannister smut #Tywin Lannister x reader #Tywin Lannister x you #Tywin Lannister imagine #tywin lannister #tywin lannister fanfic #game of thrones #game of thrones one shot #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones smut

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2hightocare · 4 months

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INFATUATED!

“In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.” — mini series ❦︎

Synopsis: The feeling of finding a person who makes your tummy do cartwheels everyday, no matter what the situation is.

Pairings: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings: super cute duper fluff, jk being the epitome of every girls dream man. Argument, oc crying, Jungkook wasting money on oc, banter, cussing, flirting. Js super cute cliché shit…

a/n: they’re my babies… they’re so ‘tear in my heart’ coded but after this I might be inactive. I have a paper due in three weeks 10 pages long so…. Plus in my free time I’m working on a series that I will drop the teaser and aesthetic maybe later or tmr🤍🤍🤍 enjoy!! Kithes.

Falling in love with Jungkook was so easy that it scared you. He did everything right, and whenever there was something wrong, he would do anything in his power to make it right. You thought it was too good to be true, and he would just disappear into angel dust if you blinked too fast.

“How do you feel?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead in the process. “Warm.” You talk about the fever you have. The covers that were wrapped tightly around you are shredded from you. “Hey!” You pout, shaking from how cold you feel even though the air is off and it’s not cold. “You’re not going to get better, baby.” He pouts back at you, holding the covers tightly on his chest as you try to fight back for it.

“I'm freezing,” you whine, your eyelids fluttering shut as his palm touches your face.

“You’re burning, baby,” he lets you know while sighing.

You had gotten sick yesterday, which had started with a sore throat. You had thought when you would have woken up today it would’ve been gone; spoiler: it got worse.

Jungkook makes his way to his kitchen, opening up the gray cabinet in front of him. He pulls out the tray filled with medicine his mom gave him whenever he moved out around four years ago. He pops open the pill container, taking two small white round pills out before grabbing a water bottle and making his way to you, who’s curled up on his couch.

Jungkook feels like shit whenever he can’t do anything to make you feel better. It didn’t matter what it was; he would do anything in his power to make you feel better. Seeing you sick, your face red from how hot you are, your eyes closed, and curled up from how cold you felt had him thinking that if he could take away your sickness and be sick instead, Jungkook would choose that option in an instant.

He hands you the pills and the water bottle and watches you take them one by one. He remembers when you gawked at him when he took 4 pills at once and learned that you have a fear of the pill going down the wrong tube.

He also remembers that you prefer pills and injections instead of just medicine syrup. Which baffled him, to say the least; how could someone prefer an injection instead of just strawberry-flavored syrup? He laughed at you, which you just shrugged because it was the truth; you preferred to get poked by a needle than just drinking something.

“That’s actually crazy.” Jungkook throws his head backwards as a laugh rips out of his chest. “It’s nasty. I don’t care what flavor it is. I would literally throw it up.” You scrunch your nose, remembering the taste of the medicines your parents literally shoved down your throat so you could get better.

“Don’t get me started on how anything medicine strawberry flavored gives me PTSD till this day.” You shiver from the thought, which has your boyfriend laughing at you.

“I can’t breathe,” you say, your voice scratchy from your sore throat as you breathe from your mouth. “I should’ve enjoyed breathing when I could,” you joke, watching your boyfriend's eyes twinkle. They had a small glimmer to them, making you wonder how that could possibly happen and why you haven't seen it before with anyone else.

Jungkook had no clue how he ended up here… with a girl he met in a chemistry class that accidentally dropped sulfuric acid all over the floor alongside the beaker smashing into tiny pieces. He watched how your eyes widened as a small piece of your hair dropped beautifully in front of your face out of the low ponytail. You had tied it with a blue latex glove as a hair tie since you didn’t have one after no one in class had one to let you borrow.

That was two years ago; now here he was taking care of you as you struggled to breathe from your congested nose.

“Can I get my blanket back?” You pout at him, which he only shook his head with a chuckle.

….

“Get whatever you want,” Jungkook gave your ass a little tap as you entered the makeup store, your eyes widening from excitement. “Don’t say stuff like that,” you give him a look, which has him tilting your face up with his hand.

“Why, baby?” He chuckles, pecking your pouted lips.

“Because it makes me feel things, duh,” you whisper into his lips. He smiles into your mouth. His lip piercing sends cold shocks through your body that has you playfully shoving him away, remembering where you guys are.

“Get whatever you want, and then we can go to the bookstore,” Jungkook picks up the black and white striped little Sephora bag before pointing in front of you to walk.

You giggled as you started looking for the things that have been sitting in your phone cart for a while now. Jungkook follows behind you, stopping whenever you stop to look at the shelves for something before you drop the product in the basket in your boyfriend's hand.

“That’s really cute,” Jungkook mentions the lipstick tester you have in your hand. “You should get it,” he says, tilting his head at you, watching you open the lid being met with a reddish-dark color.

“Don’t you think it’s too dark?” You look up at your smiling boyfriend.

“What?” You giggle as you stare back at him. “You look beautiful,” he says casually, reaching for your beanie and pulling it down a bit more, fixing it. “You literally want me to die right now,” you joke. “Baby!” Jungkook laughs at the tone of voice you used.

“You can’t keep saying things like that without expecting me to literally melt away,” you lean your body onto him while he wraps his strong hands around your much smaller frame as you look up to him.

“I just say whatever is in my mind at the moment, princess,” he explains, giving your waist a small squeeze, making you squirm as the feeling made you ticklish. “Ah!” You laugh as his fingers dig into your rib cage, tickling you.

You push him away as he tries to continue to tickle your tummy. “Stop!” You laugh, trying to get away as far as you can from him.

Jungkook stops when he sees two girls around your guy's age pass beside you both with judging eyes. “Someone’s mad...” Jungkook whispers into your head as you just shake your head with a laugh.

“Let’s leave, I got everything,” you giggle, intertwining your fingers with him, making your way to the line.

When you guys finally get to the line, you are met with a pretty blonde girl, her dimples carved into her skin when she smiles up at you both. “Hi, is that all?” The girl said, you take notice of her name tag.

“Yes, that's all, thank you,” you smile back. “Find everything you wanted?” Genesis asks, as she starts scanning the products. “Yeah, thanks,” you say, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you see the price rise with each scan.

“Card or cash?” Genesis says, as she points to the credit card reader.

“Card,” Jungkook says before you could reply. He pulls out his black card from the back of the phone case, before scanning it through the white card reader without looking at the price. The machine makes a small sound, “here you go, have a wonderful day!” The girl says ripping the receipt before putting it into the white and black bag, handing it to you.

“Thank you, baby,” you say as you walk out the door of the store, Jungkook smiles at you before shrugging. “The least I could do, princess,” he gives your hand three small squeezes, which feels like he’s squeezing your heart as well. “It was expensive as fuck,” you pout at him. “How much?” He asks, “a thousand.” You cringe, scrunching your nose up at realizing the astonishing price. “That’s it?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow before reaching to the passenger side of his car.

“What! You’re crazy,” you say, giving him a slight swat. You watch as the side of his lips quirk up, making you mirror his actions.

“I love you,” you pout, as he leans into his car. “And I love you so much more,” he says, pulling you into him from your waist.

You tipped toe to reach for his lips, his lips mold with yours perfectly as you both were pieces of a puzzle. “How do you want the kiss?” He asks, giving your waist a squeeze. “What is this, a drive-thru? I get to ask what type of kiss I want,” you giggle, letting your forehead drop onto his chest which rumbles with a laugh.

“You get to ask whatever you want from me,” Jungkook rubs your back softly on top of your thick hoodie. “Oh shit,” your eyes widened as you saw the small print of your makeup on his black shirt when you raised your head upwards. “What?” He looks down to his shirt where you’re rubbing your fingers on the dirty print.

“I just ruined your shirt, baby, ahh!” You freak, which has Jungkook laughing while trying to reassure you that it’s fine and he’ll just wash it when he gets home.

As much as you guys had moments like this, you guys had your disagreements. They weren’t as bad where they ended in screaming matches or end up not talking for days, you guys usually make up the same day before going to bed. Jungkook loathed going to bed whenever you two fought; he felt compelled to make things right before even considering sleep.

“Why are you making me feel bad?” You say, your voice cracking, which echoes the fractures in Jungkook's heart. “I’m not, baby. It’s just... I can’t do anything about it,” Jungkook tries to reason with you.

“She was literally all over you, and you didn’t stop it,” you feel your eyes start to water before staring down at your converse.

“She’s my mom's best friend's daughter; I can’t just tell her to fuck off, y/n. I backed off. I can’t control what she does,” Jungkook raises his voice, a tear falling down your cheek as he addresses you by your first name, a departure from his usual endearments, which feels like a knife to your chest.

“Okay, then,” you nod, tears starting to cascade down, smudging your makeup in the process.

Jungkook's throat tightens; he feels like he can't breathe, feeling like shit. He watches you wipe your tears, small sniffles escaping your mouth. “I’m going to go,” you sniffle, turning your back to him and reaching for your bag.

“No, don't leave, let’s talk this out,” Jungkook implores, turning you around to face him. He reaches for your cheeks, wiping away the tears that continue to fall down your puffy cheeks. “You’re hurting me,” you say, with a sniffle.

“I know. I’m fucking sorry, baby,” he feels his heart racing, wanting to die for making you feel bad for caring about him.

“Why didn’t you push her away or say something? You made me look fucking stupid, Jungkook,” you cry, recalling the pang of feeling as Kailey flirted with him in front of his family, and he did nothing to stop it, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he kisses away your tears, trying to soothe the ache in your heart. “I promise I’ll shove her off whenever I see her, and if I have the chance to avoid her, I will,” he whispers into your cheek with each kiss he leaves on your face.

“Promise?” You whisper, finally meeting his worried eyes.

“Promise, baby,” he whispers back, holding eye contact with your red, puffy eyes.

“I hate making you cry; please forgive me,” Jungkook pulls you into him, hugging you tightly as if afraid you'll slip away. “I forgive you, just don’t do it ever again,” you sniffle into his chest, feeling the throb in your heart melt away.

“I love you,” he says, swaying you both in the middle of his living room.

“I love you,” you sniffle.

….

"But the Maze Runner is so good," you literally whine at your boyfriend, who is in the middle of changing his shirt.

"Yeah, but not as good as Spiderman," he says, poking his head out the shirt hole with a grin.

"Okay, true, but the Maze Runner is just as good; you need to read the book to understand," you mumble, trying to separate a piece of hair from your mouth as you curl another strand with your wand.

"You just have a huge crush on Dylan O’Brian, let’s be honest," your boyfriend chuckles, sending you a look through the mirror, to which you just roll your eyes back at him, acknowledging a) that he was right. b) he was literally right.

“Says the boy who had a crush on Fluttershy when we watched My Little Pony,” you say, giving him a 'don’t try me' look. His jaw falls before giving your hair a tiny soft pull.

"You said you wouldn’t bring it up," he laughs before shaking his head with a chuckle. "Well..." you just shrug.

“Fluttershy reminds me of you,” Jungkook stands behind you, his fingers playing with your freshly curled hair. “Until you act like a brat,” he tugs on your hair, making your head snap backwards, where he leaves a big fat smooch on your lips.

“Okay, princess, let’s go,” he says before unplugging the curling wand wire, grabbing your bag and coat, before holding your hand and leading you outside.

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cordeliawhohung · 6 months

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thinking about mafia!Price and wife!Reader after you've had a kid ):

he was so obsessed with your body while you were pregnant, constantly rubbing your stomach, peppering it with kisses, pawing at your aching breasts, and that doesn't change after you've had the baby. of course he's gentle; he knows you're sore, but he just can't help it! if you complain about anything aching or hurting he's automatically offering to either kiss or massage it away because the man cannot get enough of you.

despite having to be gone for "work" a lot, he still makes time for both you and the baby. he'll cook as many meals as possible and whenever he's home you don't get to lift a finger. he does everything. some nights he gets home significantly later than others and sees you're still up, lounging in the living room watching a show as you attempt to rock your restless child to sleep. the cracked and bruised knuckles on john's hands aren't lost on you, and yet he uses those same hands to scoop up your child and talk her to sleep while he ushers you into the bedroom to get some well deserved rest.

and once the baby grows bigger? after a few months once you've healed up some and aren't as sore? he can't help himself. there's something about the way you hold your baby on your hip and hum to yourself while doing chores that gets him riled up. he's got you on hands and knees rutting into you from behind like a mindless dog. it's the first time you've had sex in months, and a few thrusts inside of you and you already feel like you're about to come undone.

"shh shh, darling," he coos into your ear. he's bent over your back, the hair of his chest brushing against your skin as he continues his relentless thrusts into you. "can't be too loud, now. can't wake the baby, now can we?"

but it's so difficult when he's hitting all those spots inside of you, cock bullying its tip up against your sensitive cervix. each snap of his hips against yours has your throat straining so hard to hold back your moans and cries it feels as if it'll tear to shreds. so you hide your face into the mattress, fingers curling in the duvet to cover your face as you pray that it's enough to muffle the sounds you can't help but let escape.

"look at you, my beautiful fuckin' wife. mother of my child," he grunts, voice tight as your cunt flutters around him. his hands grip the plump flesh of your hips as he pulls you back to meet him mid-thrust. "such a sweet thing, maybe i'll give you another one? fuck..."

he'll give you as many kids as you'll let him, let's be honest

#mafia!price #mafia!141 #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price smut #captain price smut

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tiredmamaissy · 14 days

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Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI

Labor of Love - Part I

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: this shit has zero smut, angst angst angst, did i say angst?, this is so dramatic i'm sorry, expletives, a bit of fluff, pregnancy, cliff hanger, let me know if i forgot anything

Word Count: 8k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: You are now entering angst town, please buckle your seatbelts and try to enjoy the ride. Jokes aside, GUYS. This chapter…is the most angsty thing I’ve ever written. I’m excited and nervous, and everything in between. There’s a lot going on in this chapter and I just hope to Eywa that I’ve written it in a way that flows and is easy to follow. I’ve had this idea brewing for months, it feels. Now…this shit was over 20,000 words long. That is a personal record and I will not be subjecting you guys to such a monstrosity. Therefore, this is part one of (at the moment) three. I apologise in advance for the cliffhanger, hehe. Also, welcome to my brain, because idk how I came up with this shit.

Synopsis: You didn’t foresee this, Ralak kept you in the dark for the sake of you and your baby’s safety. But now the time has come, it’s all too overwhelming for you to process.

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Ralak never shared more than he needed to when it came to his duties with Tonowari. No matter how much you vowed to keep it confidential. He’s a man of few words, but when it came to his business he kept them fewer.

As much as you knew, his trips inland consisted of hunting and gathering bigger game that most warriors struggled to handle.

There's a few times you can count on one hand that he's come home a little more worn down. Each time you cursed Tonowari under your breath as you helped your mate unwind. You’d insist on knowing what the olo’eyktan had him doing to be so spent and why he had not entirely fulfilled his promise to lighten Ralak of his duties since the mating.

Ralak would be quick to shut you down in the most gentle way despite feeling irritable and sombre. It was always something along the lines of, ‘it keeps you safe, and that is my duty’, and that he’ll ‘discuss it when the time comes’.

It seems the time has come.

Another gloomy night, rain and thunder tear through the sky. These storms are more frequent in this season, as it’s Ewyas way of keeping the balance with the freshwater and seawater ratio for the mangroves.

But tonight it’s torrential. You’re in full bloom, ready to step into your new chapter of motherhood at any moment. The babe sits low in your womb and you’re swollen from what feels like head to toe. The rain isn’t helping with the soreness in your joints.

Ralak is seated next to the crackling firepit, stirring the bubbling stew with one hand and mindlessly rubbing your swollen ankles with the other. Meanwhile you lay snuggled in bed, wrapped comfortably in the thick shawl as you listen to the pitter-patter. It’s peaceful, despite the dull ache in your lower back. Maybe the rain isn’t so bad, after all.

Ta-toom!

The low-pitched sound of the war horn has Ralak's full attention, shredding him of whatever serenity he had in his being. Moving hastily, he stands and darts over to the marui door, slipping into his gear and fixing his largest spear on his back.

The scene unfolding before your eyes is a rare one. You’d only seen him in full gear on the day you first laid eyes on him. The day you arrived here in Awa’atlu. And it brings a sinking feeling to your stomach.

“Ralak… what was that?” You ask nervously.

You watch him aggressively tighten the strap of his tstalsena [knife sheathe; carrier] and chuck a bucket of water in the fire—killing the flame. A precautionary measure. He knows the time has come. He hears your voice but he also hears Tonowari's...

'When the horn sounds… you come. And that…is an order.'

In his head, he’s going through an array of possible responses but there’s simply no time for any of them. Using the frame of the bed to pull yourself up, you slowly come to your feet and waddle towards him.

“Ralak. What is going on?” You ask a little louder, a hand gripping his wrist.

Turning to face you, his hands fly to support your stomach as he looks you deeply in the eyes. Then he kisses you with purpose. Pressing his lips into yours like it would be the last time, forcing himself to pull away to briefly glance down at his unborn.

It catches you by surprise, leaving you looking up at him open mouthed. Now you’re really scared. It feels like he’s being plucked away from your fingers and there’s nothing you can do about it. “Ralak—”

“I will explain when I am back. All of it.” He already sounds out of breath, fixing the shawl over your shoulders. “You stay here. Stay warm. Do not leave. Do not answer to anyone. Understand?”

Your forehead wrinkles as you try to process this all.

Don’t answer to anyone? To whom? Why did he put out the fire? Why is he in full gear? What the fuck is going on right now? He said he’d be back…right?

“Y/n.” He booms your name, yet his tone remains steady and calm. “Understand?”

You nod hurriedly, “Yes. Yes.”

“I will be back soon.” He fixes your shawl a last time before stepping back and bolting through the door.

You follow behind him, keeping the marui flap open to watch him click for his skimwing. He makes the bond and mounts the beast hastily, and is airborne soaring towards the mainland at full tilt.

Befuddled, you waddle back inside, your back slamming into the marui stilt as you huff and puff to catch your breath. You nervously check the stew, and see that it’s almost done. The glowing charcoal should be enough to finish it off, so you opt to leave it covered and fidget with the prrsmung [baby carrier] you've weaving for the past couple days.

Anything to keep you busy.

——

Ralak effortlessly dismounts his tsurak, letting it glide past him in the water as he climbs up to the communal pod. This is a gathering place for important meetings and announcements to the clan. He watches as others assemble under the larger, woven marui, drenched with the water of the sea and sky. It’s clear that this was a signal for the warriors of the clan, from the elite, to the former. The young and the old.

Even Zu’té is present, standing lone far off in the corner.

War horn in hand, the olo’eyktan makes his presence known as he stands on the highest part of the pod. His mate, the tsahìk, stands next to him with her chest high and their children next to her.

Jake and Neytiri, along with Lo’ak and Neteyam, group together behind them at the back of the pod, observing the unfolding scene. The warriors begin to chant, defensively positioned with their tongues on display. They’re all armed and ready to protect their own from whatever the impending threat is. Ralak takes his place next to Tonowari, standing tall and still. He observes the uproar before him, his mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face.

“Mawey. Mawey. [Calm. Calm.]” Ronal speaks loudly over the heavy rain, hands splayed out in front of her.

But it makes no difference.

The uproar is growing even louder than the downpour. It was rare to hear this particular horn. It’s been years, ten, to be exact. And those who know exactly what it means are up in arms. Ralak knew this day would soon come, but he was hoping to Eywa that it would be after the birth of his son. Tonowari lets loose a throaty ‘gwah’, driving the butt of his spear into the ground. The crowd hushes down into a dead silence, acknowledging their leader.

“Warriors of Awa’atlu. I summon you for good reason. Ten years have passed and it is time to meet with the ash people once more.” Tonowari begins, only for the younger warriors to mumble among themselves, some of who are unaware of who the ash people are.

“Tìfnu! [silence!]” Ralak snaps through his teeth, “…the olo’eyktan speaks.” Tonowari nods to Ralak.

“The treaty has ended. We meet with them far inland to discuss the terms of a new treaty.” Tonowari’s eyes bounce among the sea of na’vi. “It will be no easy or short journey. We must make the trek by foot. Tonight.”

A few male na’vi are unable to keep their excitement to a minimum and siren a few calls, smacking their strakes together. Neytiri snakes her arm around Jake's upper bicep, tucked under his wing. Neteyam and Lo’ak listen intently, their heads tilted down as they grip their bows firmly.

“Not all will come. I have chosen a few to be at my side.” Tonowari glances at Ralak, and then the Sullys before continuing, “The rest must stay and protect the clan if needed.”

Ronal interjects, speaking of the ash na’vi and their horrid way of living—from their occasionally cannibalistic diet to their view of Eywa and the balance. She further reminds the people of the treaty, and that its tenets include immunity from their ‘hunting practices’ in exchange for a resource only attainable on the reef. The treaty is valid for a decade and then the terms are subject to negotiation based on the two tribe’s needs. She commences it by announcing the names of those who have been chosen by Tonowari.

“I need you by my side, Ralak.”

It was a direct order, and Ralak knows that. He knows that no matter what he says, the olo’eyktan’s order must be obeyed. But it doesn’t mean he won’t try.

“She is due any day now. You know that.” Ralak speaks crystal clear, stating exactly what his concerns are.

He doesn’t want to leave you alone, especially so heavy and full with his firstborn, who will come at any moment. Every bone in his body is telling him it’s the wrong move. But Tonowari glances at his own wife who is swollen with his fourth child.

“I know. I know, Tak. But we must do what we need. For the people.”

Ralak holds a stare with his superior—his father figure. He’s gritting his teeth to keep himself together, to keep his composure. To keep his thoughts just as his thoughts. The two communicate through facial expressions, and a quick tilt to Tonowari’s head has Ralak looking away in frustration.

It’s final.

“No.” Jake butts in, sharp and quick with his disapproval. “He gave me his word.”

Alas, a moment where father and son in law are in favour of the same thing.

“You have the sky people and we have the ash people. They demand his (Ralak’s) presence. If we fail in this, we will be at war. He comes with us.” Tonowari is stern with his tone, leaving no room for an argument.

“Ma’ Jake.” Neytiri chimes in, fright evident in her voice. She is tired of the war.

As a last resort, Ralak’s gaze shifts over to Zu’té. He knew Zu’té would also be chosen despite his...'retirement'. He was undoubtedly one of the best warriors the clan has ever had, wielding great strength and skill. Zu’té returns the stare, crossing his arms over his chest as he cocks a brow. Their brothership had strengthened after Ralak sought help.

Jake notices this, and shakes his head with his hands on his hips. “Nope. No. Who is that guy anyways?”

“My brother.”

“His brother.”

The two taller na’vi speak at once.

“Since when do you have a—You know what? I don’t care. Okay? You? I trust. Him? Not so much. I’d rather my boys stay with her.” Jake says sternly, glancing at Zu’té. “No offence, bud.”

“Good thing I care not for your opinion, koaktan [old man].”

“Zu’té.” Ralak whispers harshly, throwing a glare at his sibling.

“Look, if you got a problem—”

“What about tuk?” Neytiri cuts her mate short, tugging at his arm to remind him of who is watching their youngest daughter.

“Then they take turns or somethin’, I’m not havin’ one baby girl watched and not the other.”

“Toruk makto.” Tonowari lays a heavy hand on the former olo’eyktan's shoulder, drawing him away to break the tension. “They cannot step foot on our land with the treaty. She will be safe. Trust me…” Their voices drown out from the pounding downpour.

As they go back and forth, Ralak begins to process what Tonowari said.

‘They demand his presence’.

Tonowari had made this meeting the topic of conversation over the past few weeks, preparing him for this. But he never mentioned anything about them demanding his attendance in particular. The last meeting with the ash people happened when Ralak was a very young warrior, long before his iknimaya.

Back then, Tonowari had a different warrior at his side—a different right hand. She was strong and well known for being patient with her students. It was a frequent story at family dinner when Tonowari and Ronal took Ralak under their wing. And as Ralak became Tonowari's right hand man, he was thrusted into enforcing the tenets of the treaty, going inland with Tonowari to uphold the clan's part.

Ralak has only caught a glimpse of them once after delivering the resource to the agreed spot. He had just started these excursions with Tonowari, and his curiosity got the best of him. He looked behind him for just a moment, and caught the sight of a curvy, grey woman hastily gathering and stuffing everything into a satchel of some sort.

Her stripes were a deep, ashy blue, and her skin seemed almost scale-like. She was rid of any bioluminescence, as if the light within her was gone, and her hair was matted with what looked like burgundy clay. Tonowari then seized the back of Ralak’s neck and shoved him along, advising that he never looks.

“It is decided. Neteyam, Lo’ak and Zu’té stay.” Tonowari announces as he and Jake rejoin the group, looking at those who are left—Tonowari, Neytiri and Ralak. “We leave soon, make your arrangements.”

Ralak knew his last few words were directed to him. With that, Ralak strides towards Zu’té. “I know what I am asking of you, Zu’té—”

“I will do this for you.” Zu’té turns to face Ralak, who’s undeniably uneasy and concerned.

“Protect her.”

“You protect her. Get in and get out of there, baby brother.” Zu’té speaks, extending his hand out to Ralak. Ralak nods firmly. He’s right, your safety, along with the rest of the clan’s, depends on how this all plays out.

“Oe irayo si ngaru [I give thanks to you].” Ralak's hand meets Zu’té’s forearm with a smack. They tug back and forth a bit, silently wishing each other luck on their own endeavours before setting off on their skimwings.

They arrive, walking with haste along the beach towards the stairs to Ralak’s marui pod in the pouring rain.

“That’s...interesting.” Zu’té makes a comment about the railings for the stairs.

“She has a hard time without it.” Ralak responds, stopping at the bottom step, coming to the quick realisation that this man will essentially be replacing him for the next few eclipses. “She may need help using them.”

Zu’té nods, understanding what he really means. “Do not fret, brother. I will take care of your mate.”

Ralak releases a shaky breath as they make their way to the patio, finding shelter from the rain.

“Wait here.” Ralak speaks with his back turned, “I must speak with her first.”

——

A torturous hour has passed, and you’ve burned circles into your marui floor from pacing so much. He’s taking longer than you’d expected, and worry is really starting to set in now.

What’s going on? What did that sound mean? Why did he leave in such a rush? With all his gear, too?

You gnaw at the calloused piece of skin on your thumb, keeping a warm comforting hand on your bump to keep your kicking babe calm. Regardless, he continues doing somersaults in your womb.

Fuck it.

You rush towards the marui door where your gear hangs, and fight with the strap of your chest piece to slip it on you. It won’t fasten and it’s simply too tight to fit your body right now, but you continue to grapple with the stupid strap with shaky hands.

“Tanhì.” Ralak’s voice is rough and he sounds winded. “What are you doing?” He rushes over to you and quickly removes the piece off your chest.

“Ralak—oh, thank Eywa.” Your voice is shaky, but thick with relief. “I’m sorry, I just got s-so worried.”

“We must speak. Time is going.” Ralak carefully ushers you over to the bed, and assists you in sitting down, holding your swollen belly along the way. He takes note of his active child, feeling his little kicks and pokes. He comforts his young with a few strokes to your stomach. “Shh-shh, little one. Alright.”

He knows this whole ordeal must be stressing you both, and he’s really regretting not telling you all of this sooner.

“What do you mean?” You ask, urgency thick in your voice.

Ralaks demeanour is nothing short of solemn, tensed jaw and tightened lips. It seems serious, and this man is no person to jest on such matters.

"Ralak...What is happening?"

He takes a moment to reply, his gaze fixed on his hand that still lays firmly on your stomach. He then looks up at you, concern etched into his features. “It is time to speak about… my duties with Tonowari.”

You feel your heart thud against your ribcage, your eyes widen at the words. You’ve been eager to know, but now that he’s telling you, it implies that everything isn’t alright. It implies… the safety of your unborn is compromised. You nod slowly, trying to remain calm for the sake of your son.

“We reef people hold a peace treaty with another clan…” the giant begins, slipping his hand from your stomach to clasp yours tightly. “…the ash people.”

“Ash people?” Your voice is less than a whisper, tiny and croaky.

“They are a horrible people, tanhì. Truly wicked. Kawnglan [malicious; bad hearted]. Much like the sky people.” He shakes his head as he mutters the words, not even wanting to go into any more detail. He didn’t want to taint your innocence. To stress your mind. Especially now that you’re heavy with his child. “The treaty keeps them off this land. It keeps you safe.”

“Kawnglan [malicious; bad hearted].” You repeat through a gasp.

“To them, Eywa is nothing. Tsaheylu [the bond] is for control. Their diet…” Ralak catches himself, bringing his words to a halt.

“Their diet…?” Your bottom lip trembles.

Ralak just shakes his head, taking your other hand with his. “The treaty will soon end. I must go. Tonight.”

“What?!” You shout, wrenching your hands from his grasp to quickly stand up. A shooting pain sears up the side of your stomach, and your hand flies to clutch it. Ralak rushes to steady you.

“Careful, y/n.” He snaps, high strung and tense. “I will be back in a few eclipses.”

“What? No! No, no. It’s too dangerous.” You protest, gripping his wrists to stay standing.

“It is the olo’eyktan’s orders. I must.” He’s quick to respond to you.

This quietens you. Does Tonowari not know that you’re due any day? Or perhaps he doesn’t care. How could he rip your mate away from you at this time? Especially for something so…risky. You feel your fear bubble into something more hot.

Anger.

“Then I’m coming.” You announce, dropping your hands from his wrists to waddle over to your gear once more. Ralak stands in front of you, hands on your stomach to stop you.

“No. You're staying here.” Ralak orders sternly, backing you up to sit back on the bed.

“No. I’m coming. I’m safer with you.” You resist his pushes, trying to stand firm.

“You are heavy with child.” He grits his teeth, giving you another light push, “I cannot protect you there. You—agh—you are safer here.”

Ralak makes the confession, feeling like he’s failing at his duty as your mate. He shouldn’t even be leaving you, not when you're this far along. He should be by your side, tending to your every need.

“What? By myself? What if—what if something happens? What if the baby—” You’re cut short by the sound of Zu’té’s not-so-reserved entrance. He yanks the marui flap to the side, ducking under it and standing tall behind Ralak, by just a couple inches. He, too, is fully equipped with his gear and weapons.

“Brother. I can hear the war party.” Zu’té speaks with haste, keeping his eyes locked onto Ralak.

'Brother?' Your eyes snap back to Ralak, beady and full of tears. “You didn’t.”

It quickly dawns on you that Ralak had planned this out. Made these arrangements in anticipation things went south and he had no say in the matter. To ensure your safety, and the safety of your unborn by going to the greatest length of rekindling a flame that had been extinct for twelve years. Ralak has spoken casually of his brother before, but never in any great detail.

“Y/n. This is Zu’té, my brother. He will keep you safe.” Ralak speaks with shame in his voice, knowing this must be way too overwhelming for you. He hadn’t planned for it to go like this.

Zu’té finally allows his eyes to wander over to you. They widen when they get their first proper look of you, darting all over your body to take in your foreign features.

He caught a glimpse when your family first arrived in Awa’atlu, but never this close. His eyes land on your bulging stomach, lingering a second too long to make even himself a bit uncomfortable. He clears his throat and looks back at Ralak.

You look at Zu’té with anger in your eyes, and then back at Ralak as they begin to swell with hot tears. Zu’té tries to make himself smaller, feeling the thickness of the air now. He backs up into the marui flap, tempted to lift it and walk himself outside to relieve some of the pressure.

“How long did you say this would be f-for? What if I go into labour? Will you really allow another man to deliver our son?”

Zu’té quickly but silently excuses himself from the room, taking a spot on the patio with his arms crossed over his chest, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘Oh, Toto. What have you gotten yourself into?’

Angry, you shot the words like an arrow and they pierced your mate’s chest with ease. He grimaces, as if he were actually in pain.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I—” You sob the apology, burying your hot face into your hands.

Ralak embraces you, wrapping his large arms around your body, hugging you close and tight. He sways a little with you, humming deep in his chest. “‘ts alright. You’re okay. Take a breath. I know this is frightening.”

He understands—it is not uncommon for a navi pair to remain close during the final weeks of pregnancy. It’s an unconscious mechanism, keeping them together for the birth of their offspring. Ralak feels it just as much as you but in order to truly protect you he must go— another thing that he understands.

“You c-come back to me, o-okay?” Your breath won’t stop hitching. “Come as s-soon as y-you can.”

“I will, I will. ” He coos, pulling back enough to look down at you. “Mawey, tanhì. Strong heart. For our baby.”

You nod, lifting your head to look up at him. He sees the terror in your eyes and his heart breaks with guilt. He gently presses his forehead against yours, slowly stroking your back.

“Nga yawne lu oer, nga yawne lu oer. [I love you, I love you]” He whispers longingly as he closes the distance between your mouths.

“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]. S-So much.” You sputter, lips trembling against his.

He kisses you with force, pressing his lips into yours until it almost hurts. You both linger there, not wanting to part ways. But you feel him pulling away, knowing there wasn’t much time left. Instinctively, cling onto him when his lips leave yours.

“Please don’t go.” You mumble into his chest, knowing that he has no choice.

“I have to, my tanhì.” He mutters as he begins to pull away before letting go completely.

You follow behind him, thumb in your mouth as you nibble at the skin, hand resting on top of your bump. You watch him call for his tsurak for a second time tonight, and look back at you for a moment. He takes in the sight of you standing next to his older brother, trying to find comfort in knowing that you’re in safe hands. Ralak gives him a nod and mounts the beast, taking off towards the war party.

Leaving you in the presence of Zu’té.

“Y/n, is it?” Zu’té asks, already knowing the answer.

It’s awkward and he doesn’t do well in these types of situations. He knows comfort is what you need right now, considering you’re now sobbing into your hands again. You’re worried sick. Literally. It’s all making you feel woozy and lightheaded.

“Listen...” He goes to rest a hand on your upper back, but he hesitates, leaving his hand to hover. He retracts it completely, allowing it to fall back to his side. He sighs, droopy ears and tensed brows. “He will return soon.”

Among all the emotions that cloud you at once, anger still remains roaring at the forefront. You find yourself turning your heel and ignoring his presence, waddling away as fast as your swollen feet will allow it.

“Leave m-me be.” You spit between hitched breaths, ensuring the flap of the marui door shuts harshly behind you.

Despite feeling sympathy for you, Zu’té stands outside, finding solace in being alone. He chooses the driest spot, and sets himself up on the patio, getting ready for the stormy night ahead.

You waddle in to bed, wrapping yourself in the thick shawl that smells like your mate, and lay next to the prrsmung [baby carrier] you still have yet to finish. Feeling defeated and empty, you lay on your side in bed as you process everything, letting silent tears crash onto your bed.

——

You’re not entirely sure at what point in the night that you drifted to sleep, but you wake up in a groggy state. Dried tears make it hard to open your eyes, and your hair sticks to your face. You look around in a daze and realise that it’s still dark outside.

The pang in your bladder keeps you awake and forces you out of bed, making you wobble to the curtain. You pull it back and are met with the sight of Zu’té sleeping propped up against the marui wall with his spear tucked to his chest.

Seeing him painfully reminds you of the heart wrenching events of last night. That even though you were hoping and praying to Eywa for it all to be a bad dream—it was all very real.

An icy cold breeze gusts by, making you shiver under your shawl and Zu’té shift in his sleep. The rain had eased off into a light, continuous drizzle some time during the night.

Your ears droop with guilt for leaving him out here in the cold, damp night. You let out a sigh and grip the railing to the marui stairs, turning your body sideways to take your first step down. The wood squeaks when it takes your weight, Ralaks usual tell tale sign that you’re sneaking out at night without his help.

It seems to work for Zu’té too because by the time you reach the second step you hear a raspy voice.

“I was told you need help with these.” Zu’té offers his hand. You let out a sigh and take his arm.

You’ll admit, his helping hand is actually helping, especially now that you’re so far along.

“Irayo [thank you].” You mutter, holding on tightly as you make your way to the bottom step. Zu’té leans against the railing, waiting for you to finish your business.

You don’t take long, most trips recently have been false alarms—just the baby pushing on your bladder because he’s so low down. As you make your way back to the stairs, your lower back begins to warm up. It radiates to your upper and inner thighs, making them ache as you walk.

It’s nothing new, aches and pains are becoming more frequent as the days pass, and the cold certainly isn’t helping. Zu’té meets you at the bottom step with an extended elbow, and you take his arm without a second thought.

It starts to rain again, hard. The temperature easily falls by a few degrees and all you want is to be inside the warmth of your bed right now. Your feet move at a quicker pace and as much as Zu’té tries to be gentle as he can, his grip tightens.

“Take your time.” He says, keeping you steady as you reach the top step.

Once you get to the door, he immediately lets go of you, stepping aside to take his spot on the patio for the remainder of the night. You pull back the marui flap but find yourself hesitating to step inside. You look over your shoulder, watching Zu’té tuck his spear close to his chest and prop himself against the wall.

“Zu’té.” You say. He looks at you, brows raised as he listens. “It’s cold out here. You should come—”

“Don’t worry about me.” He cuts you short, closing his eyes.

“I’m not.” Your words are quick and almost defensive.

Zu’té chuckles a bit, if you could even call it that. “Sounds like you are.”

You sigh, getting a little irritated. “Whatever.”

“I’ll be alright out here.” He says nonchalantly, opening his eyes to look directly at you. Your heart skips a beat and you feel the blood drain from your face. You thought Ralak was intimidating, but this guy is something else.

“Sure.” It’s awkward, but a good awkward…if that were a thing. “Night.”

“Wake me if you need me. No more sneaky shit.” He’s muttering now, ready to go back to sleep. “And get some rest.”

You hold back your laugh, a little amused by the stark difference in his personality and Ralaks. How are they brothers? Or related, even?

“Will do, sir.” You match his sarcastic tone, entering the marui and laying down in bed, hoping to Eywa that sleep will find you soon.

——

Village life continues despite Ralak and the others' absence. You wake up earlier than usual, despite the exhausting circumstances. Your baby moves, letting you know he’s awake too.

“Daddy will be home soon.” You reassure your babe, gently rubbing your stomach.

Perhaps you were also reassuring yourself.

You feel empty, and numb. And as much as you want to lay in bed all day and wait for your mates return, you still have a few things left to do before your son’s arrival.

First thing being, getting some food in your system.

You get ready, and walk outside, noticing that Zu’té is no longer in his spot.

He wakes early.

Looking out into the distance, you catch sight of Zu’té crouching next to a small flame, cooking what seems to be squid. It’s hard to be sure of what it is—the sun hasn’t fully bloomed, and though the rain has stopped it’s still a bit gloomy. You make your way over to him, taking extra care when going down the stairs.

“Morning.” You say nonchalantly.

Zu’té’s ears spring up and he looks behind him—behind you—directly at the stairs. His brows lower and he sighs quickly, knowing there’s no point in making the comment. He looks back at his task, turning the slightly charred squid impaled by a sharpened branch.

“You’re up early.” The giant states, back turned to you to reveal his insanely intricate tattoo.

“Same to you.” You respond, staring at his back hard enough to burn holes into it. You see some scarring and thickened skin, presumably from his days as a warrior. That much you knew because of Ralak.

“Squid. Help yourself.” Zu’té says, handing you a stick of burnt squid.

Taking it from him, you hold it in front of your face, a little baffled at how he seemingly saw nothing wrong with it.

“Hm…thanks. Looks…well done.” You try to force a smile, to no avail.

You try to take a seat next to him, struggling to keep your balance as you lower yourself to your knees. His ears lay flat and he instinctively springs to his feet, helping you sit down. He didn’t think you’d join him here.

It’s silent. Uncomfortably silent. And awkward. You keep your extremities close and your tail closer, curled up in on yourself to remain as small as you can. Although, in comparison to your mate's brother, you were tiny.

He’s not taller by much, but still taller nonetheless. It really makes you wonder how their parents looked for them to turn out this way.

Zu’té eats hastily, shovelling the squid in his mouth as if it had the ability to slither away. It makes you look back at your own serving and suddenly your nerves go haywire. You didn’t want to risk getting sick, your bedside bucket is too far away to fetch. But you didn’t want to be rude—he’d obviously woken up early to make this for you.

You take an experimental bite and fight for your life to keep a straight face. You exaggerate a nod and cover your mouth with your hand, hiding the way you're smacking away at this blubbery piece of meat.

“Mm. Mhm.” You grunt, forcing it down and clearing your throat. “It’s—uhm, it’s not—”

“I am no ‘emyu [cooker].” He says, chucking his cleared stick into the fire.

“Ahem—yeah. Yup.” You twirl the stick between your pointer finger and thumb, bringing his attention to your five fingered hand. His eyes widen a bit before quickly looking away, and you tuck them back in between your thighs.

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“Sleep well?”

You both speak at the same time, unintentionally clearing the tension in the air.

“I suppose, all things considered.” You try to speak lightheartedly. “And you? Did any part of you freeze?”

Zu’té laughs and shakes his head. “No, not quite.”

“Well, that’s good.” You say, looking out at sea to witness the sun's emergence. It casts an orange hue over the water, illuminating the ripples of the oncoming waves.

He’s watching it too.

“Your tattoo.” You speak softly, witnessing his ears flutter. “…on your back.”

“Ah. What of it?”

“What does it mean? I mean—” You stutter, still adapting to the idea of inking being a symbolic statement. “What’s the story behind that?”

The story replays in his head—the death of the spirit brothers and family. It flashes before him, as if he were in that moment again. The guilt and pain inside him is eternal, something that’s never left him since. He’s never spoken of it, not even to the person he hurt the most through it all—Ralak.

His ears pin back and his jaw tightens. He shrugs his shoulders and mutters, “Felt like it.”

“So…you’re telling me you did that, for fun?” The surprise is evident in your voice as you look at the tattoo again. His skin is raised and it spans the entirety of his upper back. “That must have been really painful. Ralak did mine and it took days.”

“Didn’t hurt.” Zu’té says, turning his body to you yet keeping his eyes on the sun. But it did. It hurt—a lot. Self inflicted pain, to symbolise the pain he inflicted on others, even if it weren’t his intention.

Maybe they are brothers. You think.

“You going to eat that?” He asks, interrupting your train of thought, pointing at your squid on a stick.

“Uhh—I’m going to pass.” You answer, offering it to him, “…sorry.”

“Again. Not a ‘emyu [cooker]” He takes it gladly, biting off a decent chunk and chewing at it unbothered with a deadpan expression.

Nevermind.

Now the silence isn’t as awkward. You choose to sit here a while longer, enjoying this moment as much as you can before coming back to reality. The reality that there may be a war brewing. That—

Ralak isn’t here.

Well, that didn’t last long.

Sadness washes over you, making your ears droop and your tail heavy. Your baby gives you a sudden, hard kick in the ribs, as if he were telling his mummy to cheer up. You uncross your legs and shift your weight to the one side, getting ready to get up and be productive.

Zu’té seems to take note of that.

“Need to get up?” He asks, chucking yet another stick into the fire.

“I got it.” You grunt, shuffling to your knees.

Zu’té lets out a displeased grumble, understanding what his brother meant when he said you have a stubborn streak. He goes to help you anyways, supporting you by the elbow.

You’re just about standing when you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your back. It makes you jolt and grab onto Zu’té, whose slight irritation instantly turns into concern.

“Y/n.”

“I’m good, I’m good.” You repeat out of breath, steadying yourself before letting go. He seemed unsure if you really were okay. “Really. Happens all the time now.”

Zu’té nods, letting go and giving you a little more space. “Alright.”

——

The meeting spot is no other than the ‘head quarters’ of the ash people. It is only on this occasion that another clan may step foot on their land and walk away with a beating heart. That is, if all goes well. Tonowari is confident, however, knowing that the resource they provide the ash people is sufficient enough to prolong the treaty for many decades to come.

It is an ore that forms deep underwater, and can only be extracted by the most skilled divers. Divers that can hold their breath for up to half an hour. The use of this ore remains unknown to the reef people, but the ash people are quick to seize it almost instantaneously at the drop off point. The ore is plentiful among the reef, renewing itself as it is harvested—the act of the great mother restoring balance as needed.

Truth be told, although the reef people are a peaceful people, it is no secret that they hold some of the strongest warriors on Pandora. They are proud of their home, and will fight to protect it at all costs. Even the ash people know this. Which is the reason for their agreement on something as laughable as a ‘peace’ treaty.

Otherwise, what’s really to stop them from annihilating the reef people and taking the ore themselves?

Ralak meets with the others—Tonowari, Jake, Neytiri, and Ronal. They all set off far inland to the place the two clans met ten years ago. The trek is long and tiresome, leaving Ronal winded and in need of a couple breaks along the way. She is, too, heavy with child, but as tsahìk, she perseveres. Tonowari had tried to convince her several times to stay home, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“We are here.” Tonowari announces as the group nears the settlement of their natural enemy. It’s a rocky environment, much like the reef but with plenty of soil and clay. “Heads straight. Ignore them.”

——

Zu’té stays nearby the marui as he tends to some of Ralak’s duties, keeping an eye on you from afar. You sit comfortably on the bottom step of the marui stairs, concentrating on finishing your baby’s sling. Your fingers are a little swollen, making it more difficult to weave. Frustrated, you plop the sling to your side and bury your face into your hands.

Everything is just too overwhelming right now.

“Your technique is poor.” Zu’té’s voice booms over you.

You look up, seeing this tall man with his hands on his hips tower over you, shading you from the sun. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know that I have plenty of knowledge on—”

“This is a prrsmung [baby carrier], yes?” Zu’té picks up the sling and sits himself next to you, searching for the point in which you left off.

You watch intently, intrigued to know his next move. He carefully unravels all the wefts you’ve managed to do since sitting on this damned step.

“What are you doing? Stop!”

Zu’té sighs and demonstrates a weaving technique you’ve never seen before, entwining and knitting the fabric until it comes together in an even neater fashion. You look at him in awe, dumbstruck that he was able to do that. Ralak dislikes weaving, in fact, he loathes it.

“Try it.” He says, plucking the fabric away from itself to unravel it once more before handing it back to you. You hesitate to take it, caught off guard from his unexpected, skilled movements.

“My fingers are swollen.” You say, feeling defeated and a little embarrassed. He looks down, noticing your five-fingered hand again, not nearly surprised as last time.

“Not as big as mine.” He tries to hand you the sling again. “You got it.”

Reluctantly, you take the sling and slowly mirror his movements, replicating the technique perfectly.

“See?” Zu’té sounds pleased with himself. Looking down at the sling, it dawns on you.

“So, you’re a weaver?” You ask the question as if you had just struck gold. “Usually the women take on that role.”

“Not here, forest girl.” Zu’té defends his role proudly, “But yes, I am.”

“Nice. It is good to see that. My grandmother is a great weaver, she taught me all I know.” You begin.

For as long as your body would allow it, you and Zu’té sat on that step and wove together. You wove the sling and he went to fetch his satchel to work on a piece of his own. Though you did most of the talking, and found yourself dodging one too many snarky remarks, a bond formed on that step.

You told him about your past at hometree, your reason for seeking uturu to begin with.

The sky people.

The words wouldn’t stop flowing, especially when you got onto the topic of how you met his brother. You explained that Ralak was your karyu [teacher] and how that quickly morphed into something much more beautiful. How you broke past his walls—took off his mask of indifference.

But then that awkward silence came again. The silence that reminded you why this stranger was in your home to begin with. That he was playing watchdog because your mate had to leave your side whilst being heavily pregnant.

“I lied.” Zu’té fills the silence. It has your ears perked up and your full attention on him. Your heart picked up speed, almost expecting something bad. “About?”

“That tattoo hurt like a kalweyaveng [son of a bitch].”

His confession has you bellowing out in laughter, clutching your stomach to keep you from shaking up your baby.

“I knew it.” You finally say once you calm down from a much needed laugh. “No good comes from trying to pretend that things don’t hurt, you know.”

Little did you know these words weighed heavy on him. Heavier than you meant for them to. He falls silent, contemplating if he should say what he’s about to. The real confession. The real reason behind the tattoo.

“I killed our spirit brothers.” He blurts out, astonished by his own voice.

Did I really just say that? Shit.

“What?” You exhale, your heart now galloping in your chest.

“It was twelve years ago. I was…seventeen. Sent out to war. I had to keep Ralak out of it. I went alone…lead a group of warriors to protect the tulkun.” His voice seizes up, as if his throat were closing. He looks away, fixing his gaze to his feet. “I was still learning. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. The sky people…they slaughtered them all.”

“Hey, hey. That’s not your fault, Zu’té. You didn’t kill them. The sky people did.” You rest your hand on his back, feeling how raised and toughened the skin where his inking lay deep.

Zu’té just looks at you, eyes trembling with vulnerability. It’s the first someone outside of the family has ever told him that. It’s something that he needed to hear.

“Is that why you fled? Ralak told me you left him.”

Zu’té nods, looking away in shame once more. “I abandoned him.”

You shake your head, knowing now that Ralak has healed and no longer feels this way. “He has healed Zu’té. And now it is your turn.”

Zu’té only nods, allowing the silence to fill the space again. This time it’s needed.

Until it's broken by a familiar voice.

“Sister.” Neteyam greets you at the bottom step, throwing a smile your way, then to your stomach. “Little one.”

He’s checking on you per your fathers request. Of course he wanted to ensure you were okay, too.

“Tey.” You smile big, happy to see such a familiar, comforting face. “I thought you went.”

You reach out for the railing to pull yourself up, and both Neteyam and Zu’té go to help you get up. You side-hug Neteyam, finding comfort in your brother. It’s been a hectic night.

“No, someone’s got to watch Tuk…and you.” Neteyam chuckles. As you let go, your glances at Ralak’s brother. “Neteyam, this is Ralak’s brother. Zu’té.” You introduce the two properly.

Taught manners from a young age, Neteyam gestures ‘I see you’ to the former warrior, and he returns the sign.

“Uncle TeyTey’s got you guys for the day.” Neteyam coos at your tummy, and then offers you his arm.

“Right...Dads orders?” You ask, happy to go with him.

“Dads orders.” Neteyam nods firmly, looking at Zu’té to relay the message. Zu’té returns the nod, being present to hear your fathers concerns about the entire arrangement. Besides, it’ll give him time to hunt for something proper for dinner.

“C’mon guys!” Lo’ak shouts from the ocean, mounted on his skimwing with Tuk behind him.

“See you. Think about what I said.” You say to Zu’té, prompting him to wave goodbye. Neteyam walks you to his tsurak, helping you to get on. You had retired your tsurak for the time being, finding it hard to ride with your back pain.

“Hey Lo’. Tuk-Tuk.” You say with relief in your voice, finding comfort in the company of your family.

——

The ash people are impudent to say the least. They follow behind the five na’vi weaving their way through the growing crowd, right on their tails as they try to get a better look at them. They are particularly interested in Jake and Neytiri, seeing the forest people for the first time. But most haven’t even gotten a look at the reef people yet, despite having the agreement with them for so many decades already.

Some even dare to poke and prod, tugging at their tails and their hair to get a feel or whiff of their scents. Tonowari, Jake, Neytiri and Ralak walk in a formation that allows Ronal to be in the centre, safe guarded from any pointed fingernails or astray noses. Ralak is on edge, but one could never tell by a glance. His appearance is intimidating, a stature so tall he and Tonowari tower over the crowd.

“I do the talking.” Tonowari says discreetly as they near the entrance of the hut.

The room is made of some sort of red clay substance, seemingly burnt to a char until it has been hardened into what feels like rock. This one in particular is large, containing smaller sectioned off rooms, partitioned with thick leather curtains. It's all very bleak, rid of liveliness and colour.

As they enter the hut, two bigger ash na’vi guard the door on either side, blocking and guarding the entrance behind them. Two more ash na’vi lead the group with spears to their backs to a large curtain, and shove them towards it with a few harsh jabs to Jake’s and Ralak’s spines. Jake snaps around, throwing them a dirty look. Whilst Ralak keeps his gaze fixed to his feet. He feels deep in his gut that something isn’t right.

Whether it be here, or back home.

With each step he takes, the sense of impending doom only worsens. He has no desire to be here but he recognizes that this is what is necessary. Yet, he can’t help the way he feels. And when he finally raises his head all the pieces link together. It all makes sense.

Before them are five na’vi in total. Two women and three men. Four ash na’vi and one…reef na’vi. A female, reef na’vi. Her face is unmistakable—unforgettable. It’s been seared into his mind since he was a young boy.

And when Ralak sees it, he almost caves in on himself. His mask of indifference—of intimidation, cracks. Hell, it shatters. Into thousands of pieces, scattered at his feet. Tonowari’s previous right hand. The banished.

His karyu.

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bucknastysbabe · 6 months

Note

Babes, I was thinking, dom! Bucky and reader where his dumb ass doesn’t give her aftercare and then she’s upset. Later, his ass brings it around and makes her feel better. I go feral for aftercare in fics because I’m secretly a little bitch and need reassurance. The raunchier the smut the better. I’m a whore. Love you, babes 😚

HI BUCKYBUDDY MWAH MWAH LUV U💋💋Less get intewww it! I haven’t written a dom buck in ages and then angst and fluffy fluff after??? *chefs kiss* As always thanks for the request and I hope you enjoy this, imma put my whole freak nasty abilities into the raunchy, then my soft baby into the fluff. I too need some reassurance bc I’m actually a huge baby🤣

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dom!Bucky barnes, Dom/sub, Bucky is an idiot, pnv!sex, bad bdsm etiquette, sub drop, hurt/comfort, big dick bb, fluff n smut n angst, dirty talk, oral (m!receiving), safe words, anxiety/negative self talk/depression

Your lover was in a mood, not necessarily angry but aggravated. He initiated the little playtime scene, coming home and growling, “Can’t catch a fucking break. Need my little girl to help me let off some steam.” His broody eyes roved over your reclined form, clad in skimpy shorts and a little tank top.

You couldn’t deny your sexy, fucking gorgeous man. A rough fuck would be good for him, and nothing was better than getting your pussy goddamn murdered by his cock. You instantly acquiesced, reminding baby of your safe words.

No time was wasted, Buck hauled you to bedroom, landed a sharp smack on your ass along the way. Clothes shredded, some haphazardly thrown, boots flung so hard the lamp rattled as he kneeled on the bed. You stared with wide eyes, unsure of what next considering how fast the situation was moving along.

“Get it wet baby, you know what to do, staring at me like some fuckin’ virgin,” the brunette snarked.

Crawling forward— you gripped his girth, lapping and enveloping the tip. Buck’s vibranium hand wound itself in your ponytail, yanking with a snarl, “Deeper baby, c’mon now.” He was lucky you had a lack of a gag reflex, tucking your lips and swallowing him down. He groaned in ecstasy, head falling back as he cursed, “Good little slutty girl, that’s it.”

You breathed through your nose as he murmured, “Gonna fuck that tight throat of yours.” Your lids fluttered at the feeling, lips stretched tight around his thick cock, throat full, the salty taste of pre-cum wetting your tongue.

His heavy balls slapped your chin as you gripped strong thighs, your lover grunting and keeping your head still with that metal hand, fucking ruthlessly. Tears sprung to your eyes, pussy throbbing and leaking. Bucky groaned again, pulling you off his dick, wet and messy.

All you could do was gasp and whimper, drool falling from your swollen lips. He smiled darkly, caressing your reddened face with big hands. Bucky cooed, “You’re so damn pretty.” He seized your lips, wet smacks filling the quiet room. You instinctively moved to your back, legs spread for him.

Buck tutted between kisses, “Nuh-uh, on your belly.” You whimpered sadly as he gave one more kiss, those huge hands of his flipping your frame over, pulling your hips up in a quick jerk. He palmed a breast roughly, pulling at your stiff bud, so sensitive you couldn’t help but mewl.

Another hand thumbed your swollen cunt, laughing, “So wet for me. Sweet pretty slut, get your mouth around some cock and you’re wetting the sheets.” He thumbed your clit with a slick thumb, grinning sharply at the whine of his name. You warbled, “C’mon baby, fuck me, I helped you out.”

A yank of your ponytail brought his lips close to you, nipping at your earlobe, muscled body pressed to you. Bucky rumbled, “Can you be patient sweetie? I asked if you’d help me let off some steam and here you are making demands like an entitled bitch.”

He pinched your clit, forcing a yowl out your lips. Your boyfriend nestled his cock against your swollen folds, rutting playfully slow. Bucky asked, false sweetness lacing his tone, “You gonna’ shut your mouth and let me do my thing?”

Yank. Nip. Slap.

“Y-yessir, Bucky, I’ll be good now, m’sorry.”

“Good girl.”

He shoved his cock in with no preamble, filling your pussy to the brim with a filthy squelch. Bucky’s hands faltered at your hips, breath stuttered and harsh, he grunted, “Fucking hell, god your pussy— hah, fucking tight.” He took a moment to steady his knees, effectively caging your own in.

“Arch,” he commanded. You did so, pressing your lower body to the bed, whining, “S’big.” He patted your ass and claimed cockily, “I know, slutty hole like yours can take it.” More tears leaked, he was on one today. You couldn’t deny the sweet pleasure and the mean words, made you throb that much harder.

His hands possessively splayed up your back, clasping them upon your shaking shoulder. The force of his thrust shoved you forward into the mattress with a muffled cry. Bucky’s hips clapped against your ass, brutally fucking you open. All you could do was drool and keen his name and other nonsense.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, pussy weeping and convulsing around Bucky’s huge cock. It dragged against your ridged insides, nudged your sweet spot, battered your cervix. Nothing was spared when your lover filled you up, feeling like he was in your belly. The soldier was grunting and moaning deeply, smacking a vibranium hand across your ass. He sped up his movements, beginning to pant. Bucky asked, “Good little slut, always such a good hole for me.”

You babbled, “Yes, yes, always, just for you!”

He rewarded you with a hand to your engorged clit, working it the way that made your legs shake— like they weren’t already jello. Bucky hauled you up with his free hand, using his strength to keep your overstimulated body aloft.

“Y’gonna cream on my big cock doll? I can feel ya’ squeezing me. Pussy’s jus’ begging for me to fill it up. Fucking hungry for it, you’re such a nympho for me.”

You were crying and shaking, nerves alight, pussy unbearably sensitive. You sobbed his name over and over, skin too hot and your clit shooting fire up into your belly. Buck cried out your name when you stiffened head to toe, core clamping down on him, gushing slick all over his still pumping dick.

You mewled and whimpered, falling limp, weak hands still gripping the sheets. Bucky managed longer, overstimulating your abused pussy. He didn’t last as far as you feared, leaning over your frame to mouth at the nape of your neck as he pumped you full of cum. So much cum it flooded your channel, spilling out and onto the bed.

Bucky had intense orgasms courtesy of the serum. He’d inhale sharply, shuddering as his overfull balls emptied for what felt like years. He leaned back up and pulled out with a soft noise, watching your ruined cunt with a smirk.

He got up to get a towel to wipe his dick off, coming back to get you clean. Bucky was pulling on his jeans now. You turned to ask, voice still slurred from your fuzzy brain, “Where’ya going Buck?”

He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and replied, “Gotta meet up with Sam, won’t be longer than an hour. I’ll be back, why don’t you grab a hot bath, I’ll bring back something to eat for you?”

A dreadful feeling consumed you. Bucky was busy, you didn’t need to whine for him to stay around. You rasped, “Can you get me a water bottle?” He nodded and padded off, returning with the cool water, handing it over with a kiss to your forehead. You struggled with words, scared to start bawling. Bucky always took care of you after an intense session. The mean ones.

He laced up his boots and slung on a jacket, blue eyes turning back as he stated, “Won’t be long I promise, ‘kay babydoll? Text me if you need anything.” You nodded while sipping the water, watching his familiar walk leave the room.

You flopped back onto the rumpled bed, body and cunt sore from the rough play. Emotions began to well up out of nowhere— embarrassment, loneliness, sadness. What if Bucky really meant all that he said?

Just a hole for him to fuck. Easy slut for easy access. You stifled a sob and failed. Everything felt like shit. You shivered from the intense anxiety, too struck to do anything but get under the mussed covers, mind whirling to all the worst places.

God. What if he told Sam about how wanton and loud you were, baring your neck at the slightest snap of Bucky’s fingers. You sobbed some more, grabbing a pillow to hold. It smelled like him, comforting, then sickening.

Managing to crawl out of bed you walked on jelly legs to the large bathtub, sprinkling the lavender epsom salt. Something to abate the cold. You ended up sobbing more and shaking in the tub. The need to call Bucky was heightening, but your brain whispered, “He’s busy, you’d be bothering him, just fuck off.”

Eventually the water got cold and you stepped out, body less achy. Drying off and slipping on this fleece hoodie thing your friend gifted you felt somewhat comforting. You didn’t want to get back in the ruined bed.

Instead the couch and a fluffy blanket would do. The water bottle and phone instinctively came with you. You blankly stared out the window, petting Alpine, still fucking shedding tears. The fluffy white cat seemed to sense your bad mood, curling up on your belly, purring.

Your phone sat on the table, annoyingly catching your interest. With an irritated huff you finally grabbed it. There was missed calls from Bucky, a couple of texts from him too. Even Sam had sent something.

Sliding open the phone you read the texts.

“At the Thai place, the usual?”

“You’re probably sleeping but I got Pad See Ew anyways.”

“You okay doll?”

“Hello?”

Then there was three missed calls. You made to dial back, spirits lifted a bit. The sound of the door busting open startled you. Alpine jumped, skittering off. A bewildered Bucky was making a beeline toward you, thick brows pulled together. The takeout bag was left on the ground. He grabbed you up and placed you onto his lap, placing fervent smooches all over your face.

The show of affection made you bawl again. Bucky’s warm flesh hand rubbed circles on your back. He murmured gently, “Babydoll, m’so sorry, I should’ve just cancelled the plans. Sam told me to go home and pull my head out my ass when I wouldn’t stop checking my phone.”

He looked so worried, babbling apologies, pulling you even closer into his frame. You sniffled, “I don’t know what happened, usually you stick around, then I got all s-sad.” Swallowing heavily you continued, “M’not just some whore to you am I? Everything’s s-so-so mixed uh-up. In my head.”

Bucky sighed, “Oh my love, no, no, you’re everything to me. I didnt communicate, forgot about aftercare— sweetheart I can’t live without you. Breaking my heart baby. Can’t believe I just left my doll all alone like that.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, tucking your face into his scruffy neck, letting out the rest of your emotions. Bucky cooed and coddled you, planting kisses on the crown of your head. He murmured, “Let it out, you still got some dinner and cuddles.”

Your breathing evened out enough to reply with a teary smile, “Okay, yeah, I am hungry.” Bucky somehow carried you around like a koala while he fed you the noodles, then ice cream, and more water. You felt better by the second, growing sleepy in his big arms.

“I love you baby doll, don’t ever think I don’t,” he swore.

“I love you too. So much. But we need to sleep in the guest room.”

The pair of you chuckled, sharing sweet kisses as the big softie carried you to the direction of the other bed. He gently laid you down, more lovey nonsense and kisses adorning the movement. Bucky climbed under the covers, pulling your body close to his. You fell asleep feeling warm and loved.

He might be a bit of a dumbass, but god if he didn’t make up for it.

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #dom bucky barnes #read the tags :)#answered ask

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oscalesoffeeling · 2 years

Text

people who make tar.kin out to be too romantic: greatly misinterpreting him

people who make tar.kin too cold: greatly misinterpreting him

#same with making him too gentlemanly or too feral.... he's a mix baby it's one of my favorite things about him.#he's a big cat he's a prince he'd tear you to shreds with his bare hands and eat your heart as he stares unflinchingly into your eyes as #your life fades from them. and he'd kiss your hand upon greeting like a true gent. nobody gets him but me fr....#when i write him as being all lovey dovey it's after some character growth has happened!!! like he's different now to me with me bc #he's changed as a person bc of Me. but just straight up interpreting him As Is as a true keatsian romantic is like. so so wrong.#</333 and then people who make him out to be the most heartless unfeeling monster in the world. wrong. bad. stop it. he can be but he isn't #a lot of the time!!!! that's a very key part of his personality is that he has this lurking simmering animalistic rage and cruelty inside #him that he chooses not to act on to keep face. but he isn't like a total fucking asshole the moment he lets his guard down fr.#he can be tender he can be gentle literally IN CANON. read lost stars and then talk to me. bitch. ehafvyuhcgxyfhvjgerhdfc #and he isn't like always pissed off he's just rough man. he's a rough guy. but that doesn't mean he can't be genuinely nice and polite fr #and again like so many people go the other way with and definitely projecting some Stuff onto him (no shame about it just an observation)#and make him a polite kind old gent who just Happens to be a dick when he needs to be. which also isn't true.#he chooses to be mean and rude and cruel and hurt people all the time and he actively enjoys it. he's a bad dude.#he can be nice and good and sweet tho i assure you. ya'll don't get him like i do </33 #there's literally so much wrong with him AND he's an asshole and he's a nice fella and kind and gentle :) ok. he bites with same mouth he #kisses. people. shut the hell up!!!! no one gets my blorbo but me event 128738374 killed 81347758 injured.#he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag)#ellie rambles about stuff #i don't CARE if lovers thought him cold i don't care idc idc he's not like that with his only current canon love interest btw!!!#he got a lot of fake people giving him fake love. ok. motherfucker. maybe it was just a fling. he's Like That imo i don't think he'd #get super attached or romantic with a casual fuck buddy ok....#again like please. me and the besties are the only ones who understand him fr #/vent #i guess!! i guess!!!#i'm not a real stickler for canon but people out here are straight up misinterpreting his whole character!!!! i get him tho <333

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delcakoo · 1 year

Text

enha giving you partner privilege ˖ ࣪ ˒ ‎♡⃕

requested <3

PAIRING ! enhypen x gn!reader

GENRE ! cavity inducing fluff!

WC ! 3.1k

WARNINGS ! being judged for wearing a skirt in jungwon’s

a/n: help i’m sorry this took literal months but finally feeding u all an enha reaction-ish T-T i took multiple long breaks between most of these so. sorry if it’s weird lol

LEE HEESEUNG !

if literally anybody tries to tease or make fun of this man.. oh no

he is NOT afraid to retaliate and tear them to shreds, even if it’s his closest friends or members <\3

when it comes to you though..

he just ,, LETS YOU ?!

and everyone else agrees that it’s totally unfair, INCLUDING YOU because you wanted a reaction.. that’s the whole point of teasing :(

but instead he just sits there with a dumb little smirk because he thinks you’re so cute and wants to give you a kiss as you continue calling him a loser 🧌

“hah, you suck. i don’t even play video games and i won,” you taunt with a big, victorious grin

heeseung doesn’t even complain or fight back, continuing to go past the results screen with a nonchalant smirk, “yeah yeah.. you just got lucky”

however, you begin to pout slightly, earning no actual reaction from your relentless teasing

so you try and push him further, “nuh uh, i think you’re just bad. but it’s okay seungie, you can’t be good at everything~”

well, that doesn’t work either

instead of getting mad heeseung just GRINS, quietly admiring how cute you look when you’re all cocky and smug about your little victory

aaand then everything goes downhill when sunghoon enters the room 😟

the tall boy snickers immediately at the sight of the tv, watching your character dance in victory, “nice one, y/n!”

you grin up at the younger with a wink, “thanks hoon, i must admit, it was an easily won battle.”

he laughs harder, “next time you gotta go easy on him,” feeling brave apparently, sunghoon has the nerve to ruffle your boyfriend’s fluffy hair with a mischievous smirk, “you know how hyung gets when he loses.”

yikes

heeseung’s once adoring expression turns into one of (half joking) annoyance, jaw clenched as he swats sunghoon’s hand away from his head

“really bro? 1v1 me right now then, i’ll kick your ass and we both know it,” he sasses, getting ready to throw the other controller at the boy

the speed in which sunghoon bolted outta the room in pure terror

you’re just 🧍

“no fair, how come you don’t get mad when i tease you?” you complain, crossing your arms like a toddler

heeseung’s expression softens again, pulling you towards his side of the couch for a warm hug, “s’cause you’re my baby,” he murmurs cheesily against your skin

“and ‘cause i let you win.”

“aw— wait what?” 😕

// PARK JAY !

the amount of privilege you have as this man’s partner?? lord

there is a lOt

you get excused for every little thing

even though jay hates ppl touching his hair he lets you?! and of course will make you food ALL the time

while if anyone else asks, they’ll prob have to spend some time convincing him for a while or bribe him y’know

but perhaps the biggest one..

disturbing jay during his naps is equivalent to asking for a punch in the face

it’s pretty much common knowledge amongst the members that it’s impossible to wake him up anyway

but if they somehow do get him up, they should expect many annoyed grunts and remarks and probably a middle finger before he inevitably falls back to sleep

naps are very serious business for mr park

BUT when you’re in the picture..

suddenly he gets all soft and compliant..

his members find this very annoying and you’re just like hah losers 🥰

at this point they start facetiming you whenever he’s napping because bro practically launches out of bed at the sound of your voice

“hyung, hyung wake up!” jungwon is literally shaking the older boy, pushing him back and forth on the bed

yet he is sTiLL asleep

there has to be some kind of sleeping competition they can sign him up for because god he deserves an award <\3

jungwon eventually gives up, calling for sunghoon’s help

and how does he help?

giving him a big smack on the head of course

finally, jay flinches awake, groaning as he touches his head, “what the hell hoon?!”

“dinner’s ready! ” jungwon quickly announces with a grin, “me and sunoo tried cooking this time and i swear, we didn’t burn anything and it actually tastes—“

“don’t care. let me sleep.”

“but hyung the—“

*snores*

sunghoon sighs, “alright, it’s time we pull out the big guns.”

by that, they mean forcing you to come over there in exchange for some of the boys’ homemade dinner

jungwon and sunghoon watch from the doorway as you tiptoe over to the bed, doing what you do best: tricking your boyfriend

“pretty boy,” you whisper, tracing down his sharp jawline with a feathering touch

and like that, jay starts stirring, eyes eventually fluttering open

“oh, so i have to slap him, but they just cARess his face and suddenly he’s rising and shining— ow!” sunghoon groans when jungwon elbows him into the wall to shut him up

jay yawns, “y/n? what’re you doing here?”

he reaches up to give you a peck, and you nearly coo at his raven hair all tangled cutely

“wanted to have dinner with you guys,” you lie, grabbing his hand to pull him up

“yeah but i was napping..” he protests childishly, making jungwon roll his eyes in the background

it was rare for jay to have his baby moments, but it happens !!

you continue rubbing his hand, “well you also have to eat babe, and i’m gonna be here too.”

at that, he sighs, but gets up from bed, stretching with a yawn

“hallelujah!” sunghoon cheers, prancing over to give you a high five

jungwon groans, “what would we do without you y/n”

jay is just 🧍

“aish.. you were forced here to wake me up weren’t you?”

all three of you make nervous eye contact before running off to the kitchen jungwon claps his hand at last, “who’s ready to have the most life changing meal of your lives?”

// SIM JAEHYUN !

jake’s a little shy about it

but if someone takes something of his he will definitely go D:

he does a little pout!!

and if it’s something that he absolutely REFUSES to share

like a straw

then he’ll be like “ay that’s mine, go get your own!!” in a half joking, jake way y'know?

but when it comes to you…

he cant say no to your cute face <3

everything jake owns? yours

congrats you have a whole second closet now

want some of his food? take the whole plate !!

he even calls you layla’s other parent despite being very very protective of her :(((

thats when you knew you’re extremely special to him !

jake’s just peacefully lying on the couch, waiting for you to finish up showering

when all of a sudden heeseung strolls in, humming as he goes to fill up a glass of water in the kitchen

as jake was about to greet him, his brows furrow at the sight of a familiar logo on the back of the older boy’s green shirt

“hyung..?” he calls suspiciously

“hmm?”

“is that my shirt?”

heeseung looks down for a moment, scanning his outfit before shrugging

“maybe. found it on the floor,” the older replies

jake just frowns

“bro, i don’t wanna share shirts with you! you’re always sweaty as hell after playing league until 3am!”

heeseung takes a leisurely sip of his water, uncaring of the whiney younger boy on the couch, “well too bad. stop leaving your shit on the floor then.”

before jake can give him another pouty complaint, the sound of a yawn coming out of his room leads both boy’s to turn and investigate

a huge smile rushes to jake’s face at the sight of you in one of his t-shirts just like heeseung, the soft white fabric overflowing down your thighs

“angel! is that my shirt?” he giggles cutely

“uh yeah, is that okay?”

“what, of course! you look adorable, c’mere angel,” your boyfriend demands with grabby hands, ignoring heeseung’s disbelieving eye roll nearby

“but when i wear your shirt it’s the end of the goddamn world, huh?”

you snicker quietly as you walk over to jake, letting him pull you in for a kiss

jake smirks, “mhm, now give it back or i’m eating all our ramen without you.”

“you wouldn’t..”

“try me, hyung~”

then he sticks his tongue out in his classic jake way 💪

// PARK SUNGHOON !

getting straight to the point here

when someone touches sunghoon he’s immediately on guard

he’s a lot better with those who are close to him, but he still gets a bit stiff and awkward

and with strangers.. he’ll just try and find an escape right away

this goes especially for his facial area

he will not hesitate to swat anyone’s hand away or flinch in annoyance if they try to pinch his cheeks or poke his nose >:(

similarLY to how sunoo was now

“i saw you blushing when that engene in the front row called you hot~” the younger boy snickers, “you’ve been an idol for two years now, and you’re still not used to that?”

then suddenly hoon’s cheeks are being pushed together, making his lips form a pout

“our sunghoonie is so cute~”

his hand is quickly slapped away 😒

“ow!”

before sunoo can even complain you’re rushing into the dressing room with a vip pass around your neck, running over to give your boyfriend a hug

sunoo watches with a pout as you cup sunghoon’s jaw, reaching up to give him a peck

“you did amazing as usual, i’m so proud!”

yeah

contrary to pretty much everyone else, sunghoon wants your touch and enjoys it thoroughly <3

in your hold, he’s completely relaxed; pushing his cheek further into your hand as he wraps his arms around you

“thank you,” he whispers with a cheeky grin

feeling playful, you even go to pinch his cheeks

and instead of getting mad the boy just gigGLES like a whipped idiot

sunoo crosses his arms, “what!? no fair!”

hoon kinda forgot his bandmate was there to witness everything 🧌

“yah, why’re you still there?” he barks, “shoo!”

you purse your lips to hold in your laugh, waving bye to the sulking boy who only rolls his eyes

you snicker once he’s gone, “so.. what was that about?”

sunghoon sighs, “don’t worry about it..” you raise a brow when he scoops you up, placing you on the makeup table, “now, where were we? celebrating how good i did, right ;)”

// KIM SUNOO !

this one’s a lil’ hard because sunshine is kinda bad at saying no and lets his members get away with a bit toO much

but he still tries to be is very strict when it comes to paying for things because why should he be paying for niki’s new pokemon game ??

of course if it’s his members birthday, an occasional treat, or maybe if he lost a bet it’d be an exception

but besides that he’s pretty good at not falling for the members puppy eyes and pouty whining

this of course isn’t the same for you

you’re literally the love of his life!! his partner of COUrse he has to spoil you and buy you absolutely everything you want >:(

sunoo will literally tell you beforehand to not let him sEe your wallet on dates or he’ll get upset

(even though when he becomes all pouty you only think he’s adorable)

sunoo would be doing his skincare

having the time of his life y’know putting his face mask on and—

“hyung, can you—“ before he can even finish, riki starts CACKLING and sunoo already knows it’s because of his green face mask ..

“you— you look like-“ he snorts, “the little green guy from monsters inc-“

sunoo slaps his arm, “yah, i do not. what do you want, brat?”

the younger boy grins, staring at him through the mirror

“so… splatoon 3 came out and..”

“absolutely not”

riki gAsps in offense, “why not!? it’s only like 90$!”

“do i look like your mom?”

“kinda—“

“shut up. go ask jake hyung, you know he can’t say no to you”

then suddenly

you, who was on your boyfriend’s bed waiting for his return, prance into the bathroom as well

“sunnie guess what!?”

sunoo smiles brightly at your arrival, pausing his ministrations to meet your eyes

“hmm?”

you grab his arm, shaking him back and forth, “seventeen is coming on tour here next month! we have to get tickets!”

he gasps, “really!? okay, i’ll get us tickets tonight!”

but then riki.. 🧌

“hyung, why will you buy y/n a concert ticket but i can’t get a game?”

“because they’re y/n and you’re riki ☺️”

ouch <\3

// YANG JUNGWON !

AWHhh won’s the cutest with giving you privilege T-T

there’s a lot of super small things that you might not even notice

like letting you touch his dimples, wear his clothes or play with his hair

you may not realise your privilege ‘cause if anyone else did those things he proBably wouldn’t say anything

because he’s jungwon

BUT when you do it he genuinely encourages you and gets all giggly <3

one thing you’ve definitely noticed though is how protective wonnie tends to get over you compared to others

he’s already quite protective of the people he loves as is

but 99% of the time he won’t mention or say anything if an issue comes up:

say an interviewer makes a comment he doesn’t approve of

some backhanded compliment to one of his members

or maybe a joke gone too far

he isn’t the type to say something rude in response or bring it up off camera, at most the interviewer would receive a very harsh glare and frown

when it comes to his partner though..

no no absolutely nOt.

you are his responsibility!! his person, his love and therefore he will not hesitate to defend you and fight anyone who dares to bring a tear to your face

suddenly his normal coherent thoughts of ‘it’s okay jungwon, don’t say anything, be professional’ FLIES OUT THE WINDOW BECAUSE no. he will not accept this

for example!!

one day you and won were going on a cute lil picnic in the park <3

you decided to wear a skirt for the heck of it, thinking it’d look cute especially with the picnic idea and the weather getting a tad warmer

so once you’re both out of the car, jungwon holding the basket of pastries while you carried the drinks and blanket, you were both pretty sure nothing could ruin the cheery mood

jungwon even complimed your skirt, mentioning how he thought it suited you perfect :D

“wah, i’ve been wanting to have a picnic all year. really, this is gonna be perfect!” your boyfriend says cheekily

“mhm, next time we should bring mauemi though!”

you wait for jungwon’s reply with a smile, but it quickly drops when you look up to see an old woman on a bench staring at you as if you’d done something terrible, her wrinkly face pulled into a displeased frown

brows furrowing, you follow her gaze to your bare legs, a tug of insecurity forming in your stomach as she scans you up and down

“..and the squirrels would be perfect to chase—“ jungwon pauses when he glances over at you, worry increasing as he notices your visibly deflated expression, “jagi?”

his eyes follow yours, widening when he sees the lady send you daggers from across the park

jungwon’s brows furrow, holding your hand tighter with every step you take closer to her

if it was anyone else, he knew that he wouldn’t say a thing; probably brush it off, maybe send her a frown back

but he simply can’t help the words that tumble from his mouth, “is something wrong, ma’am?”

your eyes widen right away because wonnie nEver has the guts to call people out like that usually???

ESPEcially not an elderly person ..

of course, the old woman only scoffs rudely in response, muttering something in a malicious tone under her breath

the boy holding your hand smirks in satisfaction and you sigh, quickly leading him away as fast as possible

“yah, why’d you do that?!” you whisper-yell

he gives you an obvious glance, “because i didn’t like how she looked at you”

jungwon looks cute 99% of the time, but at that moment with the harsh glare on his face, he’s a bit intimidating even to you <\3

you gulp, “still..”

“no, y/n,” he interrupts sternly, “i refuse to let my pretty s/o stay upset when there’s something i can do about it”

with that, jungwon places down the picnic basket and starts pulling out your snacks like nothing happened <3

“so, what should we eat first?” :D

// NISHIMURA RIKI !

sigh.

now for this boy your partner privilege is THROUGH THE ROof okay

the difference in how he treats you to everyone else??

literally anyone can see the difference even if it’s their first time meeting you guys

riki’s a combo of all the previous ones

lets u wake him up whenever and even interrupt him while dancing/gaming

definitely gives u all the pda u want but if anyone else tries it he may bite them

and ofc defends you withOut hesitation even if it’s just some lame joke he will roast them right back mf !!!

the most noticeable point though is for sure how a majority of the time he listens to whatever you say ON THE FIRST TRY

it’s ‘majority of the time’ because if he didn’t annoy you at least a bit that wouldn’t be riki

it could be something so small

sunghoon and you would be chilling on the couch, then he’d see riki walk in

“yah, can you get me a water?”

mans gets ignored as niki pUshes him over to sit next to you instead

“no, i’m lazy.”

sunghoon just rolls his eyes, meanwhile you were on your phone; completely oblivious to the conversation as you reach over to kiss the younger boy’s cheek

“babe, can you go grab me a drink please?”

bro SPRINTS to the kitchen without another word 🧌

nobody knows why he’s so enthusiastic to serve you but !!

sunghoon is tempted to call him a simp

or exhibit b

you’re at the dorms watching jake and niki play some video game

or at least. they were supposed to be playing together

but apparently it was a single player game and your boyfriend was being a bit of a hog judging by how they were practically wrestling on the carpet for the controller 😟

then after a while longer jake desperately calls out for you

“y/nnn he won’t give me a turn!”

you realise at that moment that this is what having kids must feel like

meanwhile riki gives u that innocent look as if he did nothing

you sigh, “yah, give jake a turn. haven’t you been playing for like 15 minutes straight?”

jake nods furiously in agreement

he pouts, “well yeah but..”

you give him the stink eye

aaand he passes the controller over without any more complaints <\3

jake lets out a vEry sarcastic thank you while riki wanders all the way over to you and plops down in your embrace like a whiny toddler

then he just looks up at you from your lap

“you look pretty today.”

jake groans in the background while you nearly choke

“all of a sudden??”

“yeah,” he replies simply, “i don’t mind giving up my spot to jake ‘cause i have a much better view now~”

what will you do with this boy 😞

if u enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments r always appreciated!

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby @yunjinlvrr @lov3niki @yujiecho @monstaxdirtywonk @dekusgirl @taejays @kodzukii @yjjungwon @miou45 @rosie-is-everywhere @yenqa @rosenatorfirst @millsielovesgyu @syrxiee2 @ily-cuz-i @soobin-chois

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dashielldeveron · 19 days

Text

cunning | shinsou x reader

Shinsou x Fem!Reader. BNHA spoilers for chapter 425. Note: written in a fervent haze backstage at a show I’m working and posted from mobile, so it’s much more casual than my normal stuff. ~1k words

You dragged Shinsou by his tie down the corridor towards the entrance to the stairs, and the moment you rounded the corner, you slid your hand up to grip the tie’s knot to yank his mouth down to yours. Shinsou flailed for a split second, as he always did when you initiated, as if he’s perpetually shocked that you would be so desperate for him, but he recovered, pursing his lips to return the kiss, casual, almost lazy about it—and he chuckled under his breath.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” You said with a huff, bitter you had to tear your mouth from his to speak, so you settled for pressing kiss after kiss along his jawline. “Couldn’t tell your girlfriend that you were finally transferring into the hero course—“

“It’d be suspicious if you’d been the only one without a reaction to Aoyama’s leaving, now, wouldn’t it?” Shinsou placed his hands, featherlight, on your hips and slid them up to your waist, where he tapped his fingers in a ripple. A vein in his neck visibly throbbed when you gave his tie another pull, and with a sly grin, he tilted his neck to expose more of it.

“Oh, you slut.” But you conceded, finishing your path to just before his ear and then trailed down his neck. “God, fuck,” you said, releasing his tie to wrap your arms around him, reaching up to grip the hair at the base of his neck, “I can’t—can’t believe after all of this, you wouldn’t share any shred of good news; God knows we need some after all of this—“

“I know, baby.” Shinsou pressed his lips to your forehead and nuzzled into your hair, guiding you back against the wall. “Am I not allowed a surprise every once in a while?”

“Shut—shut up,” you said, biting your lip, “You’re lucky I love you. Otherwise, your cunning nature wouldn’t be endearing. You’re a frustrating little sneak, y’know?”

“Yes, I like to think so,” said Shinsou, grinning toothily in the moment before he lifted your chin with a tap of his finger to kiss you again. This time, he returned your fervour, connecting his lips to yours, varying pressure as he pleased, letting your tongue flick at his coconut-pear chapsticked lips before finally opening his mouth. His tongue pressed against your gums in that slow, teasing way he liked, and he tilted his head to the side to reach the roof of your mouth.

When he suddenly broke from you, you let out an honestly embarrassing whine, and he rubbed his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips. “How can I stop teasing you when I get looks like this afterwards? You’re adorable.” Shinsou’s eyes, full of mischief, flicked up to catch yours. “Want me to make it up to you?”

He always thinks he can talk his way out of trouble with you, and to be fair, he usually could. You couldn’t stay mad at this man. “Sure. Surprise me.”

“With pleasure,” said Shinsou, sliding his hand to cup your cheek, and when a crooked grin stretched across his face, the haze of his quirk floated through your mind.

Feeling light.

Distant.

But very, very happy. And teeming with affection.

For you, Shinsou’s quirk always felt like he was cradling you tightly, like his love could touch you. Like you were safe. Still cogent, still in the moment, but acutely aware you’d do what he’d tell you. Others probably felt scared under Shinsou’s quirk because he was scared of them.

Shinsou traced a circle over the edge of your cheekbone. “You with me, baby?” When you nodded, Shinsou kissed you again, slow to pull away, half-lidded eyes unbearably fond. “Then get close to orgasm. But don’t you dare come.”

You inhaled sharply. “Oh, you rat bast—“

And the hazy buzz of a building orgasm flooded you all at once. It’s shocking, really, an electric sort of whizz-bang, when it comes on so quickly—and you gasped, impulsively hunching over and knocking clumsily against Shinsou’s cheek, then clutching at his blazer lapels to hide in his chest. Warmth and static and fog and gosh, you were tripping over your own feet, and you’d thought Shinsou was trying to steady you when he gripped your hip, but no, his hand kept going to the swell of your ass and down to the underside of your thigh to yank it upwards, hooking it over his own hip. Staring you down while you struggled to even keep your eyes open, Shinsou rolled his hips into yours, and you just about cracked in half.

You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle the honest-to-God sob from how good it felt, how intense the blur and haze was combined with the distant-floatiness of his quirk, and Shinsou laughed to himself again before he buried his face in your neck, breathing you in, feeling you tremble while he ground into you, taking your other hand in his to lace your fingers together. Fuck, you were close; you were so damn close, but it’s like he’d set a lock on you, like you’d keep rolling that boulder up that hill, like—

“Ahem.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at Aizawa-sensei clearing his throat, but Shinsou didn’t rush as he dropped his brainwashing and surfaced from your neck, blinking blearily at your—your shared homeroom teacher, with crossed arms and Bakugou and Todoroki in tow, the former tactfully (embarrassedly?) looking away and the latter unable to tear his gaze away from you.

“Shinsou,” said Aizawa-sensei, as Shinsou dropped your thigh and disentangled himself from you, with heat burning your face to oblivion but Shinsou appearing annoyingly calm, “I was going to discuss your move into the Class A dormitory, but considering whom I had next door—“ Aizawa’s eyes slid over to you. “—I may have to do more planning.”

#bnha #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou/reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou fanfic #shinsou fanfiction #shinsou fic #shinsou imagine #shinsou x reader #dash it all

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freedomfireflies · 9 months

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Home

Summary: An extra for Mine*

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has finally gotten you back.

But everything is about to change.

Word Count: 3.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

“Mama…you have to let go now.”

Your shaky hands tighten around Asher’s arm, fingers curling into his skin in a blatant act of defiance.

You hear Harry sigh from behind you before he steps closer to take hold of your shoulders gently. “Sugar, it’s time to go. You need rest.”

“I can’t,” you exhale, glancing back through tear-stained lashes. “We can’t leave him like this, Har. We can’t, it’s…he’s alone.”

“He’s not alone. And even if he were…it’s not like he knows.”

You feel a soft sob travel up the expanse of your chest, lodging in your throat almost painfully as you glare at him.

He sighs again. “We can come back tomorrow and see him. But I need to take you home now, sweet girl.”

He’s tugging on you, attempting to guide you away from where Asher lays, but you plant your feet into the ground and argue, “Harry, we can’t.”

“Mama—”

“No, he’s…what if he wakes up and he doesn’t see us? What if he thinks we left him?”

“Sugar—"

“And what if he thinks we’re angry at him? Or what if he gets worse—”

“Baby—”

“What if he doesn’t make it? And we never get to tell him—"

“Please,” he suddenly exhales, in a voice so strained and riddled with exhaustion, it takes your breath away. Drops a pit deep in the bottom of your stomach that blooms into fully formed guilt as you slow to a stop. “Please let me take you home. I have to take you home, I have…please. Just let me do this. Please let me do this.”

You think this is the first time you’ve really looked at him in hours. The first time you’ve actually noticed the dark bags and red rings around his eyes. The physical proof of the torment he’s been through painted so perfectly on his perfect face.

He’s been so patient, so gentle. Despite everything else, he’s stayed by your side as Asher was brought into his warehouse to be taken care of privately. Without involving the authorities, Harry found medical personnel he could pay off without jeopardizing his work or his men’s safety to get Asher the help he needed.

He’s taken care of everything. Every little detail and instruction without so much as flinching. He’s held it all together.

For you.

You study him with a sink in your stomach, palm pressing to his cheek as you nod once. “Okay. Okay, take me home.”

He releases his relief, nearly sinking into your touch as he nods as well and takes you by the hand to lead you out of the warehouse.

And you go home. Maybe not to the same place you used to call home, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

Wherever he is…is your home.

The rest of your night is quiet. You’re both exhausted, bodies riddled with fatigue, stress, and lingering trauma. Harry’s bruises are beginning to darken in color, and before you go to bed, you work on cleaning them up and bandaging them properly.

Then, he takes you into his arms, and brings you to bed.

He doesn’t let go all night.

Not when you turn, or shift, or cough. His arms remain snaked around your torso like a vice while his face nuzzles into your neck as though he can’t breathe any other way.

And you don’t mind.

In fact, you become quite used to the heat that radiates from his strong frame and the sound of his soft exhales in your ear.

So, when you wake to find both missing…you realize something has gone wrong.

You sit up in the large, empty bed and glance around the large, empty room for any sign of the man you love.

When you don’t find him, your mind is tempted to jump to the worst possible outcome. He’s been taken, or he’s left, or Asher took a turn for the worst and Harry went to say goodbye.

And then…you hear it. The sound of knuckles hitting the shredded foam of the punching bag. Over and over and over, followed by soft, strained grunts after each hit.

Your stomach wrenches, and with great trepidation, you slip from between the covers, and begin to pad your way through the halls.

The house is quiet and cold. Eerie, in a sense, with only the light of the moon to guide you down the stairs.

Your arms curl around your shivering frame, a fruitless attempt at finding warmth. You wonder how long he’s been gone. How angry he must have been to leave you so willingly in the middle of the night after everything else.

You find him in the basement, his back to the door as he lays hit after hit to the black bag hanging from the ceiling. You can see the muscles ripple beneath his shirt with each blow, can see the veins in his arms cord and push against his sweaty skin.

And you can see the blood. The dark droplets that trickle down his hands from the torn skin of his knuckles. He wears no gloves or wrapping to protect him from the harsh strikes. Almost as if welcoming the pain.

Encouraging it.

You step closer, finding his face in the mirror across the room. His expression is anguished and outraged. He glares at his hands like they’re the reason for his resentment, and it breaks your heart to see him so tormented.

“Har?” you call the moment he’s taken a quick pause, moving a bit closer.

You notice him hesitate, but his back remains to you. Perhaps afraid of your reaction.

Or maybe he’s afraid of his.

You frown. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

A rather silly question, you realize. Because everything is wrong. A shorter list would be things that aren’t.

But there’s something he’s holding onto, something he hasn’t shared that keeps him up. The reason for his bruised fingers and punishing strikes.

“Baby?” you murmur, hoping a softer tone will encourage a response.

Instead, all he does is shake his head.

You feel pulled to him, your feet moving across the cold, cement floor until you can wrap him in your arms and press your cheek to his spine.

“Harry,” you exhale while he braces himself against the punching bag and succumbs to your comfort. “Please…”

He sucks in a sharp breath, yet still, he remains silent. As though the words on the tip of his tongue have been swallowed by the grief.

You clutch his shirt in your hands and tug. “Talk to me. I can’t…I want to help. Please let me help. Let me make it better—”

Another breath, but this one is strangled and wounded. Breaking free of his lungs while his head drops. “Don’t,” he whispers, and you feel your pulse stagger. “Don’t, not after I…not after…”

Your brows furrow, and you grip the material on his chest a bit tighter. “After you what?”

He sighs. It’s so very heavy.

Even still, you hold on with everything you have left. “Har?”

A beat. Then—

“I let them take you.”

The admission is ushered with quiet shame, and you can hear the remorse bleed through each syllable, can feel the way his body recoils from truth.

Your lips press together as you keep your fingers tangled against his heart. “You had to.”

He scoffs to himself, palms pressing harder into the bag. “Doesn’t matter, I fucking…I let them take you. I sat there, and I listened to you cry, and I fucking…I…”

You turn him around; despite the way he attempts to remain planted to his spot. You force him to look at you, and it nearly guts you to see the way he glowers like he’s furious with himself. Like he’ll never accept the choice he made.

“You had to,” you repeat, as firmly as you can. “Harry, there was no other way. And I know that. Just like I know you didn’t want to. But this was the only option we had left.”

His teeth scrape together like the idea irks him yet there’s a sadness behind his eyes that says more than his response ever could.

And then…he lowers.

He drops to his knees, settling himself at your feet as he looks up at you with penitence.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you suck in a sharp inhale. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I’m sorry for everything I’ll have to put you through again. I’m so fucking sorry for ever making you feel scared. Or alone. And I’m sorry that loving me comes at such a high cost.”

You can feel a rush of tears swimming their way up the back of your throat but before you can speak, he drops his head, looks down at the floor, and rests his hands on his thighs.

He submits to you.

“Please,” he says softly. “Please forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it. And I know that there’s nothing I can ever do that’ll make it up to you, but please…please forgive me.”

You reach down and slip your fingers under his chin, forcing his attention back. He seems to find comfort in your touch and yet at the same time, he wilts. Like he doesn’t feel worthy of your affection.

“Please,” he says again, and it creates a hole in your stomach a mile deep. “I’ll do anything.”

You take both his cheeks against your palms, thumbs gingerly dancing across the heavy bags beneath his eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive, Har. There never was.”

He nuzzles his face against your hand and takes in a shaky breath. “You deserve better than this. You deserve better than me, and I’m too selfish to let you go. But maybe I need to. Maybe I need to get out of your way so you can find somebody that isn’t going to hurt you—”

“No,” you interject, dipping down with a pointed squeeze to his jaw. “Don’t. Don’t do that—”

“I want to protect you. I want to keep you, but what if I can’t—”

“You can,” you murmur, and your voice cracks as the first tear falls down your cheek. “You can and you have. I’m with you for a reason, Harry. I love you. I love you, and I can’t be without you, so stop saying it—”

“If I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do—”

“But you didn’t,” you argue, attempting to sound more confident than you feel. “You didn’t. You never will. Just…please. Please come to bed.”

His lashes flutter, but those pretty eyes you find so much serenity in never leave you. “I’m so sorry,” he says again. “I’m so fucking sorry for not being the man you deserve.”

And it hurts you more than anything else ever has. Because you can see that he actually believes that. But even worse, you can see that you’ll never be able to change his mind.

So, you kiss him. You kiss him hard and with more love than you know what to do with. You offer it all to him, your time, your devotion, your affection. Everything you have, you give to the man on his knees.

You’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to convince him that you’re safest with him. That nobody else could ever do for you what he does. That you’re meant to be with him…even if it’s on the run.

But you suppose you’ll just have to spend the rest of your life showing him.

You whimper against his lips, hands moving for the hair on his neck as you tug. Desperate for more, for all of it. Anything he’ll give you. Needing to prove to him and to yourself that things are okay again.

In turn, he reaches out for your hips, the tips of his fingers slipping beneath your shirt as he attempts to pull you down with him.

But just before you can revel in the idea…the phone rings.

You both turn, glancing toward the wall where the landline resides, and Harry sighs as he stands back up.

“One minute, okay?” he promises, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before slipping past you to answer.

You watch closely as he brings the headset to his ear, his expression filling with something you aren’t sure you recognize.

Your stomach drops before he nods, mumbles a quick response, and hangs up.

He turns to you. “It’s Asher.”

You step closer, the tears already flooding back to your waterline, desperate to fall.

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip…and smiles.

“He’s awake.”

“You’re a bloody fucking idiot is what you are.”

Asher laughs and nods his chin toward his boss. “You didn’t think so when I suggested it.”

“I didn’t suggest you get shot,” Harry corrects, arms crossing over his chest almost defiantly. But he’s smiling, and it makes your heart warm. “You were supposed to take her and wait outside. I would have handled it.”

“If I hadn’t stayed, they would have killed you,” Asher argues, and Harry’s expression falls. “And nobody can protect her better than you.”

Harry’s eyes drift to yours.

“Besides,” Asher adds, “it’s kind of my job to take the bullets meant for you.”

And just the thought makes your breath hitch, your throat contracting almost painfully as you glance between them.

Harry nods once. An acknowledgement of understanding. And gratefulness.

Now, Asher turns to you, frowning some as he straightens up. You rush to help, making sure his pillow is fluffed just right, and that he isn’t putting any strain or pressure on his wound.

But as you flutter about, he begins to chuckle, hand reaching out to gently ease you to a halt.

Yet you feel helpless simply sitting by his side, unable to offer much more than an encouraging smile and a few words of comfort. You want to do something. Make it up to him in some way. Repay your debt.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, calling your attention to him. He frowns when you look over. “I need to apologize to you.”

Instantly, you shake your head as you step back, almost as though trying to avoid his attempt. “No. You don’t. It was part of the ruse, I know. Harry told me.”

“Doesn’t matter. Speaking to you that way crosses a line, and I’d like to apologize for the harsh things I said—”

“Asher,” you exhale, glancing down toward the bandage on his chest to avoid his gaze. “You’re alive, and that’s all I care about. You had to sell it, you had to make him believe you were on his side.”

He sighs, but you can tell he’s not exactly convinced. “Even still, I promised to protect you. And I’m so sorry if I ever made you believe anything else.”

“Ash,” you say again, but there’s a long pause as you swallow a rather large lump. Desperately working to find the right words. “You did protect me. You protected both of us. And even if I didn’t know why at the time, deep down, I always trusted you. I know you. You’d never do anything to hurt me.”

He seems slightly relieved by your reassurance, but you can tell the regret goes deeper than a few apologies can reach. This isn’t your wound to tend to. It’s his.

You know both boys will wrestle with the choices they made for years to come. And despite how frustrated that makes you, it simply proves how much they care.

And you imagine, if the roles were reversed, you’d react about the same.

So, with great care, you surge forward and wrap your arms around Asher’s neck. Making sure to mind his injury as he laughs and allows you to bury him in your embrace.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you whisper, eyes falling shut as he slips his hand around the back of your neck. Keeping you close. “Seriously. I’ll kill you myself.”

He smiles. “It would be an honor to die by your hand.”

It’s a touching remark, yet even the thought makes your stomach wrench, and you nuzzle your face into his shoulder. “Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“…I love you.”

You feel him let out a deep breath before he holds you a bit tighter. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

“But I mean it. Don’t ever do that again. Just…duck and run.”

He chuckles again as he releases you, forcing you to regretfully step back. “I’ll remember that.”

“You better,” Harry calls, pushing off the wall to come up behind you, hands finding your shoulders. “Especially now.”

Asher’s eyebrow raises.

You feel your pulse spike, hands gathering in front of your stomach while Harry squeezes your arms reassuringly.

“I’m taking her away,” Harry tells him, and there’s a heaviness to the way he speaks. “Somewhere outside of the states, somewhere they can’t find her. Where I can keep her safe. At least for a little while.”

Asher leans back, eyes flicking between you both as you look toward the floor.

You and Harry had discussed it at length before coming to see him. It wasn’t your first choice, and you knew it wasn’t a suggestion Harry made lightly.

But after a bit of back and forth, you realized it was the only way. He would do anything to keep you safe and he’d never know peace again until he could make that a reality for you.

And now after everything…he can. He can start over somewhere new. He can bring you the serenity he so desperately wants you to have.

And the serenity he so desperately deserves.

“You’re leaving,” Asher repeats slowly.

You press yourself back into Harry’s chest, wanting to disappear from the conversation, and the look of surprise on his face.

And the subtle trace of disappointment.

“Just for now,” Harry answers, and you glance over your shoulder to catch his solemn expression. “Maybe a year or two. Until there’s not such a large target on my back.”

Asher nods. “Yeah,” he murmurs before straightening up. “Good, yeah. I’ll clean things up here, and make sure the shipments are still on track.”

“Good,” Harry echoes before smiling down at you. “But I’m gonna need you to do a bit more than that.”

With a curious head tilt, Asher waits.

“I need you to take over until I get back,” Harry tells him, and you feel your breath catch. “Manage the imports and exports. Make sure the suppliers don’t fuck us over, and that everyone is doing their job. Handle the shit I can’t.”

You watch the realization settle, his eyes growing wide with intrigue and slight confusion. “Are you serious?”

Harry nods his chin at him. “Deadly,” he says with a wicked smirk. “Look, you know I don’t trust anybody else not to fuck this up while I’m gone. You’re the only one who can manage it and still keep me in the loop. You’re the only one who would do it the way I would.”

Asher smiles, and you can see years’ worth of memories and admiration pass between them.

So, you step aside, and allow Harry to move closer.

“You’re still a fucking idiot for pulling a gun on him like that,” he murmurs, making you both smile. “But I trust you, Ash. And I need you to do this for me. For both of us.”

Asher studies him for a moment, but you know he’s already decided. Know that they’d both do anything for each other.

“Of course,” he finally says, looking from Harry to you. “As long as you are coming back.”

Harry glances over to you as well. And he smiles. “Yeah. We’re coming back.”

You reach out to weave your fingers with his before looking to the man in the bed. “Promise you’ll be here when we do?”

Asher laughs again, and it’s a sound you’ve never been more grateful for.

“Fuck yeah,” he agrees, making the three of you smile. “Come on. Where else am I gonna go?”

And you grin wider than you have in weeks.

No matter where you move or where you stay, as long as you have them…

You’re finally home.

OKAY I KNOW THE ENDING WAS SAPPY, BUT I SWEAR THIS ISN'T THE END OF ASHER!!! JUST A CHANCE TO EXPLORE SOME OTHER THINGS!!! 😭💞💞💞

Credit for the amazing divider to @firefly-graphics 💞

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