Unlike A Knight

Keep Going

Din Djarin x Reader (AFAB reader, no gendered terms used, just body parts)

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: The Mandalorian gets hurt while trying to capture a bounty. He comes back to the Razor Crest and you patch him up, making him feel better in more ways than one.

Can be found on ao3 here

A/N: I’m thinking this takes place before season 1

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“Stop moving.” You tell Mando.

“It fucking hurts, Y/n.” He hisses as you clean the front of his wounded shoulder.

He wasn’t usually one to complain. Not like this, anyways. He’d just bite the bullet and suffer through the pain. But you could tell he was really hurting when he was verbal about it.

“I know. I’m sorry. Just let me take care of you.” You sigh, finishing cleaning his wound with alcohol before applying bacta spray.

He sighed with relief as the cool bacta met his skin, helping to numb the pain a little. You applied a gauze pad and taped it to him, standing back and looking at your work.

He was sat on the edge of his bed compartment, only in his helmet and pants at the moment. When he’d gotten back with his bounty, he was groaning as he put the criminal in carbonite.

You came down from the cockpit to see what was going on and saw how banged up he was. You helped remove his armor and boots and then turned away so he could quickly remove his helmet and shirt, turning back only when he told you it was okay.

You’ve been traveling with the Mandalorian roughly three weeks. He hired you as a maid of sorts. Doing all the menial tasks that were below his pay grade. Cleaning his weapons, armor, and ship. Keeping food stocked. Doing mechanical maintenance on the ship when needed, but he always liked to help with that part.

You put the med kit away and then turn back to him. You stare at his chest for a moment too long, then lift your eyes back up to his visor.

He was breathing hard, hands on his thighs, occasionally making a fist when a wave of pain washed over him. The bacta was fast. Just not that fast.

You step closer to him, now able to smell his woodsy scent. “Anything else I can do to help?”

There had been sexual tension between you and the Mandalorian from day one. That, you knew for sure. When he first interviewed you, to make sure you were the right person to hire, his handshakes lingered. He thought hard before each response to you. You’re pretty sure his helmet was tilted down just slightly towards your chest several times while he was questioning you.

“You’ve done plenty. Thank you.” Mando nods.

“A massage maybe?” You suggest quickly before he gets up.

He sighs. “It’s been years since I’ve had a massage. I would be grateful.”

“Alright, lay down on your stomach.” You smile at him and he does what you say, moving (slowly and carefully so he doesn’t hurt his shoulder worse) to lay down.

You admired his ass for a moment as he did so before climbing up into the compartment and straddling the back of his hips.

He lets out a long sigh as you do this, and you’re pretty sure he’s been touch-starved most of his life. In fact, based on what he’s told you about himself, you know it.

You start with his shoulders, careful not to press down on his injured one too much. You dig your thumbs in gently, repeatedly pressing them forward up the backs of his shoulders. He’s still breathing hard.

Your hands move down, gradually reaching his low back and moving back up.

He groans when you touch a particularly sensitive spot on his mid-back.

“Sorry. I can try and loosen it up. Or I’ll leave it alone if you want.” You offer.

“Please keep going.” He breathes.

You do as he asks, rubbing the spot in gentle circles to try and relax the muscle there.

You decide to dig a little deeper and you lean down, pressing your elbow into his back.

“Fuck.” He gasps.

“Shit, sorry.” You’re sure you’ve hurt him.

“Keep. Going.” He orders with a soft whine and you lean down once more.

You put your elbow against his back, pushing down and circling it. Mando’s breathing picks up, not harder, but faster. You watch as he fists his hands in the blankets by his head and it makes heat pool between your legs.

Once you feel the spot is relatively loosened up, you go back to using both hands to massage his back up and down. He lets out a shaky sigh.

“Don’t move.” He says quietly. Then he quickly turns over underneath you and-

Oh.

Oh.

Mando is hard as a rock, pressed against your heat.

You gulp. “Are we doing this?”

He nods up at you, hands resting on your thighs for a moment before slowly moving them up over your hips.

You bite your lip and grind down against him, moaning softly. He lets out a low sound, gripping your hips. You rock them back and forth against his crotch, wishing there was less clothing on you both.

You pull your shirt and bra off and his hands come up to cup your breasts. He squeezes them lightly, kneading them and playing with them, making your eyes flutter shut.

His hands move down after a minute, unbuttoning and unzipping your pants. One of his hands goes down into your panties, quickly finding your clit and teasing it with his fingertip.

“Fuck, Mando.” You breathe out.

“My name is Din.” He says sweetly as he pushes a finger into your wetness.

“Din…” you moan, opening your eyes again, looking down at him.

“You look so good like this. Feel so good.” He groans, thrusting his thick finger in and out of you slowly. “So fucking wet for me.”

You nod frantically, grinding down against his hand. “All f- for you.” You whine.

“I know, sweetheart.” He hums and pushes a second digit into you.

You gasp and brace yourself, hands on his chest. If he keeps going like this, you’re going to cum on his fingers.

He starts thrusting them faster, making them dip deep inside of you each time. You dig your nails into his skin, “Oh, Maker, yes.”

Din growls up at you, his hips bucking once to remind you how aroused he was. He continues fucking you with his fingers, getting you closer.

“Gonna- I’m gonna cum.” You breathe out, jaw dropping.

“Cum for me, baby. Come on, you can do it.” He coos, encouraging you.

You squeeze around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, cumming hard and whining his name.

“Fuuuck.” He sighs, working you through your euphoric high.

After a few moments, his fingers slow down and eventually stop, pulling out of you.

His free hand lifts his helmet just enough for you to see his chin, then his fingers covered in your slick come up to his mouth. He sucks on them for a minute, moaning around them and rolling his hips against yours.

“Maker.” You gulp. He has fairly groomed facial hair. Not too much, not too little. You wondered if he’d ever take the helmet all the way off for you. But for now, you were satisfied with this.

He pulls his fingers away and lowers his helmet once more. “Knew you’d taste good.”

You bite your lip and smile softly.

“Take off the rest of your clothes, sweetheart.” He rubs your cloth covered thighs.

You nod and get up for a moment, quickly getting naked. You watch him as he pulls out his cock and strokes it a few times. You almost gasp at the sight of it. It’s a beautiful cock, you think.

Din pats his hips at you, “Come sit.” He hums.

You gulp and nod, climbing back on top of him. You hover for a moment as he lines up against your entrance. Then you sink down onto his hardness.

“Oh, fuck.” You let out a broken moan, lasting until you were fully seated on him.

“You’re so tight.” He’s panting, gripping your thighs as he watches you.

This was probably the most perfectly full you’ve ever felt. No other person or even toy could compare to how this felt right now. He was throbbing inside you as you lifted your hips and then pushed down once more.

His short nails managed to dig into your thighs as you did this, leaving little crescent moon shapes. You bit back a moan, starting a medium pace of thrusting your hips up and down.

He held onto you like you were going to float away if he didn’t. His head was tilted back right now and you could see his beautiful Adam’s apple and the edges of his sharp jaw. Maker, you wanted to kiss it.

You plant your hands on his ribcage, supporting yourself as your body rolled on top of his. You lean down and press your lips to his collarbone and he shivers.

“You okay?” You look up at him.

“Haven’t- fuck… haven’t been touched in so long.” He breathes out.

“Like I said earlier…” you trail off, kissing his neck. “Let me take care of you.”

Din whines as you start to thrust down on him harder, barely nodding in response so his helmet didn’t hit your head with how close you were.

He’s almost shaking now, holding onto you tightly. One hand breaks away from your leg, reaching to the buttons on the wall inside the compartment. He shuts the door and then turns out the light inside.

“Woah, I cannot see anything.” You laugh a little.

“That’s the idea.” He says and you feel his arms reach up, take off his helmet and set it down by his head before grabbing your face and pulling you up to kiss him.

You whimper into his mouth, pussy squeezing around him. You’re both panting into each other’s mouths, tongues swirling and lips teasing each other’s.

“Din, you feel so good.” You whine and kiss him hard.

He kisses back just as enthusiastically, one hand moving down your back to grab your ass. The other hand finding your clit and rubbing it in circles with two fingers.

You groan against him, thrusting faster and rubbing down against him. You feel your thighs start to shake as your second orgasm gets closer.

“Not yet.” He moans into your ear, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. Your eyes roll back in your head as you try to keep from cumming too soon.

“Almost.” He reassures you and kisses your neck, his facial hair making you tingle delightfully.

“Fuck.” You whine into his ear, not knowing how much longer you could go.

His hips start bucking up in time with yours, pushing somehow even deeper into you. “N- now.” He sighs as his cock twitches and he releases inside you.

As he fills you, your body goes into overdrive, second wave washing over you. “Din-!” You gasp, slamming down onto him hard.

He grunts as he fucks up into you, both of you gradually slowing. Once you’re both stopped, you stay on top of him, warming his cock.

“We should’ve done that weeks ago.” You sigh happily.

Din’s chest vibrates as he laughs softly. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh without the modulator in his helmet and you could really imagine getting used to it. But you tried not to get too far ahead of yourself.

“We only met a few weeks ago.” He hums.

You kiss him sweetly. “I know.”

What Once Was Mine

Chapter One

Summary: Locked away in a house her entire life, she always dreamed of exploring the nearby kingdom for just a day, believing it could make the rest of her days in solitude bearable. What she was unware of, was the real reason she'd been hidden away for so long. Changes comes swift like a flying dagger when a thieving bounty hunter seeks solace in the old home.

Din Djarin Royalty!AU / Tangled!AU

Pairing: Din Djarin x Princess Kryze!Reader

A/n: Hello Lovelings!! Enjoy this half baked idea that popped into my head while reading a bunch of dark academia imagines... also let me know if you want to be tagged on future chapters!

Warnings: none

INTRODUCTION:

Mandalore, the great kingdom of warriors. Over the years it has harvested many secrets, many conspiracies, and several tragedies. What else would one expect from such a place, in which most citizens dedicate themselves to the eternal struggle of warfare. Perhaps the most tragic happening to ever occur to the over-worshipped and idolized land would be the disappearance of the baby princess Kryze.

So many stories were thought up by members of the royal family, as well as some palace residents, to try and somehow cover up their horrible mistake. Families don't just misplace children, most of all future heirs to the throne. What really happened was the most infuriating tale to tell, and though the king and queen didn't know it's truth, many others within their courts did, and they kept it a secret.

The baby had been discovered by one of the nurses to hold magical properties, that of which no one in Mandalore had ever been capable of. These powers were also not of the wise Elves that resided in the high mountainside. Whispers were passed around for several weeks until finally a decision was made. The baby could not be trusted to grow in this kingdom, royalty or not. That's how witches were created, witches that harmed many nations and brought down armies all on their own accord, with only a wave of their hands.

Nothing planned was ever mentioned to the royal family, nor was anything said about the child's abilities. In the middle of the night, the baby was taken. There were rumors about a witch on the far off stretches of the kingdom that went into hiding when her powers were found out. The stories were not true, the woman held no magical properties whatsoever, but when she was offered the child, she didn't hesitate in accepting.

The members of the castle staff felt what they were doing was the right thing for the entire kingdom. They were even obliged to do the honor of ridding themselves of that child, in fears that one day she could even kill them. Fear is the downfall of any soldier, any Mandalorian should know that.

For twelve years the great warriors set out to find the child, and after reaching the outsides of every kingdom and not finding any hope of the lost princess still being alive, the king and queen grew weary in their search, and eventually gave up, their hearts shattering. They died in early ages, and left the throne to their eldest daughter Satine. There was another daughter that was born from the king and queen, only a year after they had lost the baby they so dearly missed. They hoped and prayed that it might bring them some ease in the years of sorrow that followed, but it didn't, and now that they were gone, Bo Katan Kryze sat at the right hand of the throne to her sister.

Mandalore had many enemies, some within their own territory, and some even within the palace walls. Satine was a just ruler, and beloved by all, or at least most. The few that despised her ideals, and didn't want to give up their old and treacherous ways of life attacked the queen, and in the arms of her future consort, she died a heroic death.

Bo Katan did not want the throne of Mandalore, and when it came time to crown her the queen of the strong nation, she accepted a challenge for the reigning dark saber, the item that possessed real power and that who wielded it was the true ruler. The challenger of said saber, was Moff Gideon, King of the distant neighboring kingdom.

Bo Katan didn't even fight like she knew she could, for she was absolutely opposed to ruling the kingdom that killed her sister. After everything she did for them, they brought her down to death.

Moff Gideon would be the new king of Mandalore for years to come.

More time flew by like the silver crested birds that resided in the kingdom's trees. The baby princess had grown into a beautiful girl, happy and vibrant despite her isolation, and constant verbal abuse. The woman who took her in had raised her to believe that she was her birth mother, and that they had fled to this old mansion away from any kingdom to keep outsiders safe. She told the young girl that she had picked up her whole life and went into hiding just because of the powers her dear daughter possessed.

As a small girl, her powers grew, and she didn't know how to harness them, so when the mother told her it was best to stay inside, she believed it all. She believed that she was dangerous, and had the ability to kill people. It was an awful lie to spew to someone so innocent and trusting, but it was the only way to keep her from harming anyone outside. The truth was, her powers were fantastic, and the older she got, the more she could do. She even learned to heal injuries, and used that magic to save small animals that would try and come into the house. Mother had set traps all around the mansion, just incase anyone was stupid enough try try and enter. The traps harmed creatures big and small, but the princess never let them die. She was too kind for that. Too gentle.

When mother brought home a small creature, resembling that of a baby goblin, it was like years of solitude had finally been made easier. The baby was also blessed with magical powers, and due to a strong bond that connected them, a companionship formed. Almost that of a mother and son. He couldn't speak, it seemed he was far too young, but he was able to communicate through brain waves, and she could somehow feel his thoughts. His name was Grogu, and he was an outcast just like she was., cursed to stay away from all humanity.

It came to a point where she was unable to feel love towards her abilities, and just wished them away. She thought that if she could just give them up, she would no longer have to deal with her daily struggle of loneliness, and she could live the life she had read so many stories about. She wanted to be like the characters of her books so badly, to feel the freedoms they felt. She procured a special necklace, made by her own hands, in attempts to somehow trap her powers within it. She took so long to be able to do so, but when it was finally successful, she felt it was time to ask her mother a very important question. It was her eighteenth birthday tomorrow, and she wanted more than anything to go outside.

CHAPTER ONE:

"This is a very big day, Grogu," you paced back and forth by the window, waiting for your mother to enter the old home. "I'm finally going to do it, I'm going to ask her."

He babbled at the words, bringing a smile to your lips as you watched the way he played with his little clothing wrap in anticipation.

"And don't worry, if she says yes I'm sure you can come, too."

At the sound of crunching leaves below the open window, you spun around wildly, your dress flourishing with every small movement. Your bare feet raised and lowered your body with a slight bounce. The anxiousness was too much to bear.

The door closed, and you swept up Grogu in your arms, racing down the stairs and skipping every other step. It wasn't dangerous, you had done it every day without fail.

"Mother! I'm so happy you're back," You exclaimed with a broad, bright, and beautiful smile. She held her arms open in a show of beckoning you for a hug. She was always so theatrical with her displays of emotional affection, pushing them over the top to ensure you believed and felt every part of it. Truth be told you didn't know what real love was, aside from the strengthened relationship with Grogu that became deeper every day.

"My dear, it's been a long day. I'm sorry I took so long, but I seemed to have rolled my ankle going up the hill. Would you mind?" She asked in a sing song tone. It was nothing to you, because this happened every so often and there was never a doubt in your mind that she really needed your power. The innocence that still plagued the inner workings of your brain prevented you from seeing the woman liked to take advantage of the gifts you held.

"Of course, Mother," you helped her around the corner into the sitting room by the entry hall, and letting her relax back into one of the elaborate chairs. It was strange how she limped inside the house, but when you watched from afar, gazing out the open window she hadn't huddled her steps at all.

"I brought you more apples from the village, I know your little friend adores them," she said gesturing to Grogu who sat in the spot you placed him. He made some gurgling sounds of excitement before looking down to fiddle with his little green hands.

"Thank you, I'm sure they're wonderful."

You knelt before her, ever bit as submissive as a humble servant, pushing away her dress skirt to find her ankle. It wasn't swollen, nor did it seem to need any attention, but you strived to make her happy, especially on a day like today. The better her mood, the likelier for you to achieve your biggest dream tomorrow.

You tightened your hands around the small area and focused all your energy into healing that fraction of her body. You felt a bit of your own life force leave you when it passed through to her, and you squeezed your eyes shut to avoid the minimal sensation of dizziness for a few seconds. She let out a sigh of relief, then jumped up from her chair, gliding across the room to admire her appearance in the gold crested mirror that hung steadily on the wall since before you could remember.

"I feel so much better, dear," she held onto your arms, bringing you beside her before ruffing your intricately braided hair. She knew that you were not fond of the action, but you didn't show it this time, and she was nearly upset as to not have you riled up over it like usual.

She stepped passed you and went to perform the same action with Grogu, who was not needing to be on his best behavior. He acted up immediately, flailing his arms about to try and rid himself of her. She laughed maniacally, going back to her seat before riffling through the basket you'd woven her last summer.

"Mother, I was wondering if perhaps you remembered what tomorrow was?" This was the plan: present each point to her carefully, leading up to the grand question.... but it had to be done slowly, as to warm her up to the idea first.

"Darling, how could I forget your birthday?"

Right, so she remembered this year.

"I didn't mean that you would, I was just wondering if you'd thought of any gifts yet? If not, I have an idea that may suffice," you said, the smile on your face spreading as you heart picked up it's pace behind your chest.

"To be frank with you, I hadn't gotten anything prepared. I was going to try and find something for you when I left for the afternoon."

Perfect. You glanced back at Grogu, who was clearly listening in on the conversation as of now, for his features were focused straight ahead to where you both sat. He let his eyes drift between you and her a few times before you finally got the hint. That little creature was so much smarter than any of animal you'd come across in your life.

"I wish to go outside," you blurted out, the anxiety was too much as it bubbled up through your skin. You were surprised at yourself for your straight forward confession, and figured you might need to clarify. "Only for a day, to see the kingdom."

Her laughter was unexpected, and quite deflating. She saw your request as a joke, and it made you feel silly having even asked. You'd built up so much courage to say the words, and now they seemed foolish.

"You are quite the jester, dear," she stood, lifting her basket to leave and restock the kitchen with the apples she brought, but you couldn't give up so easily. If she was to say no, it would be after you presented all you had practiced. You reached out you hand to hold her in place and she turned back to face you with a smirk.

"I do not mean to be funny, mother. I really do wish to have a day in the kingdom. I have planned everything out if you would mind to hear?" You brought the small green stone out from under the corset hem of your dress, holding it in your hand to show her if she was willing to see.

"Dearest one, you know it is not safe for you to leave. You could hurt someone, or heavens forbid, they could hurt you," She came closer, her tone was seen as truthful and compassionate by you, but it was nothing but manipulative and demeaning. "It is selfish to think you can handle so much in just one day. What if you killed someone?"

"I have a way to control it now. This necklace-"

"The necklace that can hold all your power, yes darling, I've heard it before, but you cannot ever truly know if it will work," she looked down upon you with sympathy... no, not sympathy, pity.

"I know it will work, I've tested it over and again and it can finally help me control it," you practically begged and pleaded with your eyes for her to stay and listen, and not forget this interaction ever happened by choosing to leave the room and ignore it.

"You have never been outside of this house, what makes you possibly think you have any idea of what you are talking about? You may have tested it here every single day of your entire life, and still never know if it will work out there," her voice boomed louder this time, and it frustrated you to no end, knowing that this would all end in tears and distress. You hated fighting with her, because you knew no matter how hard you stood your ground, the walls eventually crumbled down and you would be the loosing party.

"I just want to know what it's like, for one day..." You pleaded with everything you had in you, but it seemed like that was the last straw for her.

"Enough with all of this nonsense! You are not leaving this house, ever!" Her screams startled the baby, and as tears came brimming the corners of your eyes, you ran to his rescue, scooping him up and cradling him to your chest. He nuzzled his head there, feeling safer now that he had the familiar warmth of your arms around him.

The tears that threatened to spill came pooling over like waterfalls, and when your mother saw them, she was completely and totally calm within a moment.

"Dear, you must know that I do this for your own good, and for the good of all the people in that village. Imagine the guilt you would feel if you let harm befall any of those citizens. And Imagine how much pain I would be in if they took you away. You would surely be burned alive if they found out what you can do," she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around both you and Grogu, trying to bring a false sense of comfort to the air.

"I'm sorry, mother," You let out, letting your head fall on her shoulder. You didn't have any other shoulder to cry on, so what was the harm?

"It's alright dear, I love you very much."

"I love you more," you said, and it was true. You loved her more than she could ever love you.

"I love you most."

The turrets of the castle were the first to be compromised. The job was easy; get in, capture the bounty, and get out. It would supposedly be even lees of a hassle due to the fact that this bounty was not a person, but an item, rather. The buyer, being from a far off land, across the sea. It was priceless to this kingdom's heritage, and if it was lost, then truly it would be the last string to pull before the great Mandalore fell apart.

The three bounty hunters for the job were the best in this realm and the next, with rewards hanging over all their heads. Few even knew their names, one of them didn't so much as have a face to put to a wanted poster. It was a mask and a hood that hung all over the kingdom's walls, trees, and even town buildings. His accomplices were better known, but still a bit hard to find. The only people who ever saw them in a daily setting were the hunters of the guild on the outside of Mandalore's ridge.

Today they faced no danger, or so they thought. Snatching the dark saber had been the simplest part of the plan, now to escape the guards, and the horse riders who would be catching up with them shortly.

"Xi'an, company on your left," the hooded figure spoke as they quickly made their getaway. The woman wasted no time in pulling a knife from her holster and slashing through the guard that was foolish enough to approach her.

"Your eyes never cease to amaze me, Djarin," the shorter man cried out as he wasted away another poor soldier. These men that the hunters took no time in killing were innocent lives, who's blood was shed by treachery. The only one who didn't kill a soul was the masked and hooded figure, Djarin.

"Maybe you're just getting old," He replied, leading them all to a gulch in the offset of the forest they entered. "Alright, I think we lost them, but be ready for anything. I heard them send for horses when we left the gates."

"It'll be just fine, Din. Relax," Xi'an said seductively, her hips swaying in front of the masked man as she went deeper into the woods. Her lilac colored hair made her stand out in a crowd, and though her teammates begged her to change it time and again, she refused, saying that she could handle some extra attention. She had harbored massive sexual tension towards the hooded bounty hunter, but it was clear he did not share her enthusiasm. He used to, but now it was too much. He liked to focus on his jobs more, and less on her, she couldn't become a distraction.

"We may need to head towards the guild. They can hide us there until we need to meet at the rendezvous point," the shorter man said. Ranzar Malk, an old soul, with the heart of a lion, ready to kill if given the chance. His friends called him Ran, but he had few friends, just accomplices.

"That's a bad idea. They know we have the most valuable weapon in the world, they won't leave any building in this kingdom unchecked," his deep voice made weary his partners, if you can really call them that.

"Are you proposing we skip town?" Xi'an came sauntering back towards the group, and as she did, they all turned at the wound of horses beginning to run out of the gates.

They all instictively began to run as fast as their legs could carry them. Din Djarim was a fast runner, and was quick with his wits and intellect. He was able to maneuver through the woods as if he'd been through them many times. A few times, sure, but you wouldn't have known it. Every step he made was that of a man who knew where he was going. The others had a harder time keeping up with him, and since he had no real attachment to them, he didn't mind if they fell back from him and to the hands of the Mandalorian guards. All he had to do was finish the job, and he'd get payed, no questions asked.

"Djarin!" Ran cried, and when Din turned to look over his shoulder, he saw that they had been cornered. They didn't know how to move quite as well as he did through the rugged areas, and now they payed for it.

"I will get you for this, you bastard," Xi'an's words were the last to ring in his ear. He knew they wouldn't stop until they got the sword of Mandalore. The rightful claim to the kingdom itself. If he could just get to the waterside, perhaps he could steal a small ship to get away with. The rendezvous was on the outskirts of town anyways, so it wouldn't make much of a difference if he had to sail around to get there.

He must have run for miles by now, and his lungs were burning. He no longer heard the galloping horse hooves behind his six, but the far all yelling in the distance was a reminder that he wasn't quite safe.

He ran further until he reached a dead end, where the only option was to drop down the steep mountainside. He wasn't one to stray from a challenge. His skilled steps helped him onto the cliffside, slowly makinf his way down to the base of it. He was sure by now he'd lost the guards, because after several minutes of climbing downwards, they never reached the cliffside.

The ground was covered in a thick layer of fog and mystery. He'd never been to this corner of the kingdom before, and doubted anyone else had either for that matter. He couldn't barely see where he was going, but as he kept stumbling about, the nidt became thinner and less prominent. He waved around his eyes a few times to make sure what he was seeing was real. An old house stood in the corner of the spacious grounds, hidden by even more trees and foliage.

The house on the outside looked dark and haunted, and he doubted anyone lived there for years. It meant it was the perfect hiding spot to lay low until things calmed down a bit in the kingdom. Then maybe he could sneak out and about to meet his client.

He trudged up the steps to the front door, opening it slowly with a creak in it's wake.

The interior of the house did not look old amd forgotten at all. Almost as if it had not sustained any damage that the exterior held. Everything seemed to be in working order, which he thanked heavens for, because his stay in this old home just became more enjoyable.

He stepped into a small sitting room, taking the saber out of the satchel it was confined to, before pulling the trigger like switch on the hilt. There came forth a blade unlike anything he'd ever seen, the dark metal with the interwoven lines of silver between each crevice. It was a miracle to behold in person.

"Alone at last," he mumbled under his breath before he caught the movement of something from the corner of his eyes. He turned around to see an open book on a chair, the pages weren't dusty and had no signs of age. In fact, he thought he couod recall the title of the book being released just two weeks ago by the famous author that resided within Mandalore.

He glanced up from the book, seeing a blown out candle, the smoke still emanating from the burnt wick. Some was here, and they knew he was, too.

Out of no where, an invisible force threw him backwards into the wall, making his vision go dark as he sunk down the boards and landed on his arse. The last thing he saw befoee everything went dark was the outline of a beautiful girl rushing towards him.

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Tags are open, baes!!

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Harsh Directive

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

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Summary: Holy shit this Drabble took way too long to make.

Word Count: I don’t even know.

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MASTERLIST | Simon “Ghost” Riley

WARNING [blindfold, fingering, orgasm denial, rough sex, doggy style, creampie, creaming, slight knife play, slight choking kink, long drabble]

-

Operation: Via was a success.

The harsh week of cold and rain had settled in your gear nicely, your firearms in desperate need of a cleaning, and your knives looking pitifully dull. Your skin felt dry, covered in a layer of grime from not having a shower in so long, and your hair was definitely greasy, and flatter than when you had left. You needed a wash, some food, and resting time to get yourself back in order. Sure, the carrier gave you two of those three things, but the comfort of base was calling your name and singeing itself well into your brain; your own bed, your own food, your own— well, semi your own, shower— were the only things that would satisfy you, and you were willing to wait the next 3 hours of flight to reach your gratification.

You silently sat with your arms crossed and legs spread, leaning back into the aisle chair while purposefully pressing your back into the buckle to keep yourself in discomfort. You were refraining yourself from dozing off, maintaining a kink-free neck and back from the horrid sleeping posture you would surely put yourself in; you refuse to go through that torture ever again — training with a sore spine was a bigger pain than what you had anticipated, and the aftercare was difficult to manage when it’s just you massaging the bolts out of your neck and back. You grimaced at the memory of barely being able to climb out of bed and slide your uniform on, slowly gazing up to the roof while holding in a chuckle from the next flashback of almost falling while shoving your pants on.

Your eyes fixated on the lights above that lit the fuselage in a dim glow, aircraft nets swinging gently with the plane and knocking on the walls with soft clatters. It was quiet, unusually quiet, until you heard a loud snore croak in front of you and being followed up with another. Quirking a brow, you turned your attention to your front and on Gaz and Soap, who were completely knocked out in the seating across from yours. Gaz’s arms slumped crossed, and had his head tilted down to his twined legs, while Soap was widely spread and fully tilted back towards the ceiling.

Had it been any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of their drooling faces and horrible postures, but the overwhelming drowsiness took over your complete being and left you oddly calm and collected. Just the sight of them made you envious of their sleep, but you would rather be safe than sorry in the long run during one of Price’s excruciating trainings. You blinked slowly away from the sight and to the cockpit doors, fighting the urge to nod off and instead pinching yourself with your vest’s clasps.

“Arrival will be in two hours. Weather is gloomy with possible heavy rain, so prepare for a stroll, lads. Again, arrival will be in two hours. Out.”

Price’s voice disturbed you aware, leaving you a bit more alive and conscious from the startling overcom. The static undertone helped waken your eyes as you heard it go in and out, tired tears pearling into your lashes from the sudden energy surge to stay aware, and soon being wiped away by your scarf. You felt lightly gleeful that home was so close, only needing to remain awake for— counting the time it would take to walk, as well— 2 and a half hours. You could do that.

A small smile formed on your lips, a hand bringing your scarf up to cover it and allow the subtly present scent of your detergent to sink in through your nose. Home. You were going to be home. You wouldn’t have to smell like dried blood and muddy earth anymore, or have to wear it on display. Until your next mission, of course. Either way, you were just glad you’d be going to base soon, and get the well deserved rest you needed.

A rough shot of cognizance rattled through your spine, your hands stiffening and the smile you had deflating as your hairs stood at attention. Your left side felt completely vulnerable all of a sudden, and you felt deeply discomforted by the abrupt exposure, now shifting in your seat to gain some comfort back. Your whole side burned. You felt every layer of protection cease to exist under the blazing stir that set on what felt like your very skin. You were being watched, and definitely not with sweet eyes.

You didn’t need to guess where it was coming from, or who the unforgiving glower belonged to — Soap and Gaz were out, and Price was in the bridge, so that left one out of the four personnel that could be watching you like an angry hawk. And to think you would have a happy time home.

You knew you wouldn’t get away with the stunt you pulled, despite hoping he would brush it off eventually. How could he? He never neglects your wrongs. He never lets your blunders slip by. He never forgets.

You knew it all too well.

Let’s just hope you make it out alright this time.

-

You were in deep shit the moment you set foot into base. The way your name instantly shot through the room when Ghost snapped for you to come see him tensed the whole squad, already knowing what the issue pertained to. You didn’t need to look back to acknowledge they were all sending weary eyes your way.

“I’ll get your whiskey ready, Hops.”

“Thanks, Soap. I’m gonna need it.”

Taking your time to get to the door, you threw your gear into a room on the way and let your hair down from its bun. The tingling sensation of your relaxed scalp gave you a short peace of mind as you massaged the sore muscles and succumbed to a false happy place. You thought of all the nice things you’d partake in now that you were home — a nice shower, some cooked food, and your own bed to nap in now that there were no missions to fling yourself into. How you would all sit around the living room and converse about stories of the past, like how they got their scars, type of thing, as you drank the better-than-nothing whiskey for where you were. Ghost barked gratingly for the second time, his voice sharper, louder — filled with impatience, and knocked you straight out of your comforting haven. You felt your nerves pile onto the tip of your tongue, biting your lower lip to sooth the hard beating of your organs, and making your way to your superior.

You passed through the living quarters and down the long hall towards the debriefing room, quietly wishing you could turn around and pretend like you didn’t hear as you watched the comforting bedroom lights glow teasingly into the corridor. You had blinked, just once, and magically appeared in front of the open door that led straight to your doom. You were an anxious mess, fumbling with your gloves as you pulled them off and set them on the counter just beside the door. Taking a deep breath, you began to reason with yourself, mumbling incoherent encouragements to get you to go into the room and power your way through whatever he would yell at you for. Come on, White, you got this. At least you aren’t at Death’s door.. I hope.

The door slammed shut behind you when you had eventually entered, your heart stammering from the harsh snap of wood-on-wood. It felt like you had left reality and entered the dark dungeons of Hell from how drastic the atmosphere shifted. Not even the light felt the same as it blinked inside from the covered windows, nor the speckles of dust that would cascade down to the floor. You focused on your breathing despite your lungs want to collapse from the underlying fear that now set the scene. They practically did when you felt the looming presence of a ghost standing just a few feet away from your back, and deathly silent rage surrounding you like a cloud of toxin.

You need to relax.

You grazed your eyes over to the center table, signature black gear already laid across it with dissected guns and removed armor plates. They looked to have just been cleaned and reapplied with oil, but the finish looked rather rushed and almost careless from how he set every part across the counter. The sight made a cold shudder slither up your spine; Ghost always took care of his artillery, never using rushed hands and little thought when cleaning and placing pieces. You had gotten to him. Bad.

You tore your eyes away from the table and burned them straight ahead, the sound of heavy boots slowly prowling close catching your attention and flooding your veins with mixed apprehension. You recognize that gait, know those boots. Oh fuck..

There was a clipping sound paired with rustling fabric before you saw his vest get tossed by the table with a loud clatter. You flinched at the raucous noise, standing even firmer at attention despite the soft look you tried to portray and mitigate your angered superior.

“Would you like me to put your stuff away with mine?” You asked with a built sweetness. What good would this do? Dig your grave a little deeper? Might as well and try to knock two birds with one stone; ease the tension, ease the Lieutenant.

“You defied a direct order.” He uttered, the underlying reverb in his throat startling your overly aware nerves as his boots heaved on the floor with every step behind you. He had yelled at you, demanding that you fall back on him and not pursue the objective. “White Rabbit, if you take another bloody step into that building, I will personally suspend your ass for a full week. Do not engage.”

You grimaced at the failed attempt to improve the situation, your shoulders tightening and your hands becoming clammy. When you saw the back of his cotton warmer, his steps ceasing after appearing meters in front of you, you audibly sighed, “If we didn’t get those vials then, we would’ve never been able to ransack like that again.”

“I don’t give a bloody fuck,” His tone reached deep into his chest, his head snapping just barely to the side. It was a silent command to stand and shut the fuck up.

You snapped your mouth closed, watching as the Lieutenant peered down to a hand and flexed it out to rid the tension in his burly toned arm; he looked as if he would be flexing out claws, his large hands twitching from the urge to grab you and slam you against the wall to teach you a lesson. He was shaking, even just slightly, and was positively fuming for your disregard of his command and jumping straight into a no-coms zone. He had no clue if you’d come back to him either just as you were, or in a fucking casket. “If I see you dead, (Y/n), I swear to whatever bloody fuckin’ god is up there that I’ll be proper fuckin’ shit-pissed. Stay alive. Don’t you dare come back to me strung up in medals.”

He turned fully towards you, his broad frame blocking the incoming light from the window behind him. You looked two sizes smaller than Ghost — his body could fully cover you from view — the size difference enforcing intimidation without even mentioning his burning anger.

"I gave you an order, White." He stalked towards you, every agonizing step forcing you back on instinct, "You don't just ignore your superior's orders— especially not in this line of business."

You bumped into something solid and stopped, your eye contact with the black-suited soldier imposing on your soul and bleeding out with your incoming submission, "I'm sorry, Ghost, I really am. But if we didn't get those vials—"

His fist slammed right next to your head and into whatever you backed up against, your words hitching in your throat as a cracking noise came from the object behind you.

"This isn't about those fuckin' vials, Rabbit."

You felt your heart practically rip out of your chest with every beat, your eyes wide and your hands pressed flush against the now cracked wall with your back. Your mind screamed at you to run away, acting on your prey instincts from the threatening presence in the room. Yet, you remained silent, unmoving as the Lieutenant’s eyes bore into yours, daring you to take a step away like he knew what you were thinking.

“Do you remember what I asked of you,” Ghost pierced through your ears with an alarmingly rich sonorous hum, “when I had you flush against my door, right on your pretty little knees?”

You felt a boiling heat rush throughout your body, your eyes snapping open even wider in full awareness. The scent of cigarettes and husky cologne was more potent now that he was so close to your figure, a mixture of dirt and old blood evident in his musk.

It practically clouded your senses, a dazed look setting in your eye as the oh-so familiar scent plunged deep into your lungs, yet you still conjured up whatever shitty pride you had left against your dire situation, “Sir, please.. This isn’t the time.”

He grimaced down at your audacity, his accent flaring with obvious fire, “Fuckin’— Do you remember what I asked of you?”

You couldn’t hold eye contact any longer, your embarrassment overpowering your confidence and causing your head to turn away. Yes, you remembered. You remembered the whole ordeal.

The way he shakily purred your name as you bobbed your head up and down his length with soft teary eyes and a constantly bulging throat. How he forced a hand through your hair as he leaned all his built weight into the other, curling his body above you and into his skillfully tattooed arm as he stroked your locks carefully. This was different. This was sensual. He wasn’t rough, and his touches were all filled with the utmost delicate attention like he was handling one of his most precious weapons.

You let out a short, uneasy scoff, trying to divert the perverted memory, “What does that have to do with any of this?”

He flashed you a hard glare, your hope of him going along with your words disappearing instantaneously. When he knew you were firmly silenced, his voice cut through the quiet like a knife through butter, “I’m going to ask you one last time. Do you or do you not remember what I asked of you?”

“.. Of course I do,” You meekly gave in, your eyes scathing back up his body and to his gaze, “That was the last time we were alone together before Op: V.”

He gently combed his fingers through your hair as you continued to suck and lick, focusing on his veined v-line that kept going back and forth with every thrust of your head. He let out a rough groan as your tongue swept along the underside of his sex, his body visibly shuddering as he mumbled, “God damn it, love..” and gripping his supporting hand into a tight fist. He began to snarl incoherent praises, saying how good you were for him, and how he was so lucky to have you assigned under him as his rookie.

"Bun," He inquired, jaw clenching as his eyes gazed down at you with glints of abnormal longing, "Come back to me in one piece.. Stay alive, and play safe— bloody hell, please."

“Then why did you risk it?”

You curled your hands up behind you, looking at anything but him in an effort to ignore the question. You had no option, however, when Ghost called your name with a chilling rasp, your arms becoming littered with goosebumps as your hair stood on edge.

"It's.. It's just.."

You could feel his eyes spark with curiosity at your stutter, finding your nervous form a rare sight, and savoring it with every look over. Despite this, he remained firm with heavy superiority behind every word, "’s just what, White?"

".. I didn't want to get in trouble." You whispered, afraid the whole world would hear your confession.

The room went dead quiet, so much so you swore you could feel the air thicken and begin to choke you through each breath you took. Ghost had froze. He froze with a blank stare straight into your eyes, like he was processing word for word what you said. I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up, your mind repeated, never once breaking from his swirling gaze. You had no clue what he was thinking, what the subtle glints in his eyes meant as they showered around your body in tantalizingly slow look overs. You wanted him to say something, anything to keep you from basking in the silence and spiraling yourself into an overthinking mess.

You abruptly flinched as he pulled his head away from yours, his voice vibrating in a low pitch and deepening his accent, "What did you say?"

"I didn't want to get in trouble.." You repeated, gulping down a chunky lump in your throat.

He took another moment of pure silence before slowly peeling himself off you. You gawked after him as he went to trudge across the room towards his strewn about gear, looking through it with haste as you remained stuck to the wall. You stood in utter confusion, wondering what in the world was going to happen, until he snapped his fingers and pointed down by his side without giving you a single glance; "Here." You, of course, followed his instruction, and walked up quietly behind him to his side all the while picking at your fingers in nervous habit. You didn’t like not knowing what would happen next, and it seemed like everything he did was to play on your discomfort, taking his sweet yet rushed time to gather whatever he was seeking.

"Trying to get yourself out of trouble is what gets you in trouble. Fuckin' shit, White— you should know this by now."

You felt like a private all over again, being scolded by the second lieutenant during training for doing something slimly out of line, "I'm sorry, Ghost.."

He snapped his head towards you, giving you a scowl through his eyes like that was the last thing you should've said, "Sayin’ sorry won't fix anything when you're fuckin' dead."

You clamp your mouth shut as Ghost turned back to the table, pulling out one of his black cloths from a vest pocket. You were beyond anxious from each of his rushed actions, watching him flick the cloth out of its folds and holding it between his hands.

He turned to face you, watching you examine the black fabric in his hands with wide doe eyes, “Turn around.”

Without wanting to make matters worse, you comply and face your back towards him with a shaky turn. You hear his boots thud against the floor as he comes straight up to your behind, his close presence causing your back to feel oddly sensitive despite the zero contact. It worsened as you felt his firm chest graze your shoulder blades when he leaned forward, his breath seeping into your ear through his balaclava.

“Close your eyes.”

You felt a shiver creep nerve-by-nerve through your system, and how your whole spine became pleasurably tender from marinating in his close-up musk. Your eyes closed with the single flutter of your lids, your adrenaline accelerating from your lack of sight and creating a blissfully heavy sensation in your core.

You gently twitched when you felt what you assumed to be his arms graze past your shoulders, and place the black cloth over your eyes before tying it off securely behind your head. You didn’t dare remove it, and instead embraced the enhanced senses you were given, feeling every vein that split through and around his exposed forearms, and hear every low breath from behind his skull coverings.

“‘Only you were this well behaved on the mission. It’s really a shame, White.. qui-te the shame.”

You let your body tremble as his hands trailed painfully slow down your neck and to the dip in your back, his gloved fingertips grazing your quivering figure with rare delicacy. You relished in the rare attention, involuntarily leaning into his warmth with a soft, shaky sigh passing through your lips from the contact. You missed him. You missed all of him. His body was not something you could see yourself without, and that whole mission was absolute torture; running around to get the job done with little to no time with your ghost. The first night without him went fine, but after the second?

You were both aching for touch. It was becoming impossible to stay curled in your tents, and the overwhelming need for one another’s bodies burned your very cores with hot desire. One thing led to another and you both had your earbuds in, dialed on a private line, and letting yourselves confess your needy desires to the dark heavens above.

“Raise your arms above your head.”

You did as you were told, shakily lifting your arms straight up to the ceiling. His hands removed themselves from your sides and went for your wrists, bringing your arms behind your head and wrapping them around his neck. It stretched your body out nicely, his height forcing you on the balls of your feet and to the tips of your toes just to adjust with the position. Your fingers felt on something soft, something warm gliding under your tips as you stroked down the fabric material. The soft surface subtly rose with bumps as your nails lightly scratched what you remembered as his nape, feeling his locks peak out from under the balaclava, and gently feeling for it. A thick vein trailed up the side of his throat and caressed your exposed wrist, your pulse radiating with his at the sensation of his firm flesh. You were anxious, yet you could allow the Lieutenant to do as he pleased when he brought his palms down to your stomach.

You began dreading the blindfold, wanting to see everything he was doing to you, “Ghost.. Why do I have to wear this cloth?”

His tone reverberated along his throat in a growlish pitch, “So you can understand exactly what I saw when you went into that bloody building.”

“But I don’t see—”

His fingers dug into your v-line and forced a whimper from your chest, his voice burning low, violent, “That’s the fuckin’ point. I didn’t see anything, not a proper fuckin’ thing when you went into that warehouse.”

He leaned in close to your ear, his breath nipping against your shell with every hot exhale, “You’re going to feel exactly what I felt. You’re going to see exactly what I saw. Only you put yourself in this position, and you’re going to sit your ass through it just as I did.”

“Do I make myself clear, Sergeant?”

“Yes, Ghost—”

His grip tightened painfully through your warmers, a hiss falling with your sudden intake of air and shutting you up.

“It’s either yes Lieutenant, or yes sir.. You’ve forgotten your place, White, so you’re goin' to live in it until I see fit. So again, do I make myself fuckin’ clear, Sergeant?”

Had it not been for his leather gloves and your cotton warmer, you knew his nails would've punctured through your skin with how tight his grip on your body was. Did you wish that was the case? Abso-fucking-lutely.

You let his rough handling of you coax an answer from your lips as you finally gave in, your soft voice wavering in defeat, "Yes, Lieutenant.."

"Atta' girl.. Such a good obedient thing when you want ta’ be, ain't that right?"

Oh, if your insides weren't clenching before, they were definitely clenching now. It sounded so dirty, like he stripped you clean of any human title and dubbed you almost like a pet. The blindfold was tied snug against your eyes, unrelenting with how tight your heat was clinging to your insides, or how it made being called a good obedient thing by the predator behind you turn your mind into liquid. You could feel how his body encased your own, and how his skin was burning hot, muscles completely flexed and solid in restraint to keep himself together.

You sucked in a deep breath when you felt his big hands trail down to the buckle of your belt and slowly unclip it, "L—Lieutenant..?"

With a harsh tug, the belt came straight out of your pants and right to the floor, "'Won't be needin' this."

Picking up the bottom of your cotton shirt, he raised it up and over your chest, letting the hem rest messily along your collarbone as he pulled his hands fully off your body. You were stood right against his hard frame, your pants now unbuttoned and zipped down, and your pretty abdomen and covered tits on full display.

His gloved hands grazed down your neck and over your perking breasts, giving them little attention as he continued to trail his cold gloves along your warming skin. You wish he’d rip open your bra and pinch your nipples with unrelenting roughness, but when his leather palms glazed over your v-line, right over your panty line, you wiped that thought clean out of your head with a gentle sigh.

As if sensing your shifting emotions, he clicked his tongue and set his hands just on the hem of your cargo pants with a strict sneer, "Sergeant, keep yourself together."

You let out a shaky response, his firm command urging out a submission of acknowledgment, "Yes, sir."

“That’s my girl. My good, pretty little girl.. I think we should get started with your punishment."

His fingers made their way through your pants and straight to your clothed cunt, his gloves snagging gently against the silky fabric of your panties. His sudden assault caused a flinch to ripple through your body, your mind asking to any god above if this was truly what he said it would be right before he began his torture. You let out a soft squeak when you felt pressure begin to push against your covered slit, drawing small circles on the tip of your clit with his middle finger as it nestled right between your puffy cameltoe.

"Feels fuckin' good, doesn't it?" He murmured, keeping his other hand pinning your ass against his hips.

"Feelin' so right and perfect on my fingers.. Just how I felt when you followed and obeyed under my command like nothing could go wrong."

Noticing your pussy begin to grind against his fingers, he scoffed, settling his hardening arousal right against your ass, "Fuckin' hell..”

He let you continue to move your hips, his mask shifting right against the side of your cheek all the while he savored how your plump rear would shift and press against his thickening sex. He missed this. He missed you. How every morning you'd greet him with such warm eyes, and how every night you'd welcome him into your gushy insides with the most submissive pleas and cries. When you would whine and beg to be stuffed full of nothing but his thick cock, or when you’d put on something that begged for his instincts to grab you and taint your flesh and blood with nothing but him. It practically made him feral at just the remembrance.. But, as much as he wanted to indulge himself, Ghost knew he couldn't let you off the hook, not after firing him up and really showing how scary a tosser could be when it came to his woman.

"'s just like this, yeah? Seeing nothin', absolutely fuck all, and left with the pleasure of knowin' you're alright— knowin' you're in ear's length of coms."

With the increase of pressure on your hardened pearl, and the rougher grind of his large finger circling the pulsing nub, he began to push the little restraint you had on your voice, and forcing quiet groans and mewls past your trembling lips.

"'Felt so good— so fuckin' perfect, like nothin' could wrong me as long as you listened and stayed in contact."

All your mind could focus on was the overwhelming growth of slick and lust forming straight into your guts, and the death pulsing grip the Lieutenant had on your bruising skin. Your bucking hips became desperate, your need to feel your knot grow and snap intruding and releasing your lustful pheromones in the air like an animal searching for a mate— or better yet, to mate— and clinging to every little thing.

"And every single time you answered my call.. It was like music to my ears, Bun. 'Couldn't see you, yet could feel your hot breath right in my ear like you were fuckin' there, right stood next to me, just as it should've been."

You let out a strained gasp when you felt his finger push your panties away from your drooling cunt and forcing itself inside, the palm of his hand rubbing circles over your clit in his finger's stead. The grip you had on his balaclava disappeared, only for your fingers to run straight under the fabric and shakily grab at his hair to somewhat ground your slushing brain. His finger felt like it was stretching you out already, the leather glove aiding in the attack as his digit went in and out, curled and uncurled. You were getting drunk on just his hand, your back arching off Ghost's body as shocks of wrecking pleasure pulsed through your very bones.

A purr-like growl began to rumble inside his throat, his eyes never once leaving the sight of his hand stuffed down your trousers and finger fucking your weeping pussy, “It felt just like how you’re feeling now— so full and right. So euphoric to know you were right under the palm of my hand, and that nothing would come to stop us from getting home.”

You felt your tongue push past your lips when he injected another finger into your clenching hole, shoving right against your flexing cunt, “F—Fuck!”

His hand suddenly stopped moving, earning a needy whine from your pathetically crumbling body, “Watch your fuckin’ mouth, Sergeant. If I hear another swear out of you, I’ll leave you as the dumb mess you are right on that couch.”

You felt your eyes widen behind the black cloth, needy pleas and cries straining for his continuous touch, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll behave, I promise!”

With a cocky smirk, he gradually began to set his pace back into your sex, sloppy ‘thank you’s and ‘more’s croaking from your drying throat, “Good girl.”

Your hips began to spasm, the tight knot you’ve been craving for forming at a rapid pace as his fingers hit knuckles-deep into your cunt. Your eyes began to roll up and become half-lidded, drool seeping down the corner of your lip when you let out a short cry from your pussy suddenly quivering and gripping around Ghost’s fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, Bun— are you gonna cum already?” He mused, rubbing his palm harder against your hot clit.

You couldn’t even focus on what he was taunting over, being too caught up in the boiling heat that hit over and over against your insides. You were about to snap, your muscles contracting and retracting rapidly as your body convulsed. The hold you had on his hair was hard, your nails digging into his scalp with a vice grip, and the foggy look you gave to the blindfold screaming for release.

Ghost rubbed the hard edge of his mask right against your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your bruised hips in a forged comfort, “'Felt the same way when I heard you call in after my every order. How it felt so fuckin' warmin' to have you submit whenever I needed to hear your confirmation— without your daft tongue."

A harsh spike of snapping thread spread throughout your womb, flooding your lower half in fuzz and intense heat as your cervix quivered with every involuntary clench. You felt panic rise into your lungs, finding it harder and harder to keep your panting under control as you realized your ending point was being fucked out of you quicker than normal.

You slurred over every word, spreading your thighs out wider as your jaw began to tighten, "Cumming— Lieutenant, I'm gonna— no, I'm gonna—!”

His voice burled deep and rough, the accent you oh-so adored sounding like Satan’s damned temptation, “But then, oh then, did that comfort crumble right through my fingers.”

Just when you felt your eyes roll back into your head, your body fully prepared for your stuttering womb to snap, his touch disappeared in an instant, and the overflowing high that was soon to tip over washing away gruesomely fast. You were left empty, hollowed even, with how quick the change was as your body adjusted to being denied its pleasure. You were left in shock. What the hell just happened?

You could hear the devilish taunt of his voice as you glared into darkness with helpless teardrops forming in your eyes, “You really thought I’d let you burst, White? Bloody fuck, you’ve really been spoiled rotten.”

You sniffed as drops of your pearling tears fell from your eyes, “Th—That’s not fair..”

He couldn’t help the amused scoff that found its way through the mask, his hands grasping your luscious waist in a rough clutch, “'Didn’t tell you to talk.”

“I did what I had to do!”

He snapped, “Watch it, Sergeant.”

The commanding bark quieted your pleads, your sniffs and silent whimpers remaining as your only hope to get what you needed. You pressed your thighs back against his legs, trying to press more of your body into him as an offering, even going as far as to grind your ass against his dense arousal— you were acting like a bitch in heat, and it was getting to the point where even Ghost couldn’t see straight anymore from how slutty you were acting for his dick.

In one rapid moment, you could feel the leather covered fingertips hook around the front of your bra just milliseconds before it came ripping right off your torso. You gasped from his brute strength forcing your bra to come apart in his hands, the weight of your tits forcing out a small whimper of need before you felt the cool fabric of gloves cup the underside of your mounds in a firm hold.

"'Missed these slutty tits and how they fit into my hands just right. 'nd the way your nipples—" He finally brought his attention to your teats, giving them a painful pinch and pull, "— were always so excited to see me.."

You felt the hard skull covering press into the space between your neck and shoulder, listening to him take a deep inhale of your warm scent, "Damn proper perfection, and it's all for me to fuck and break."

You press further into his broad frame, your back flush against his snug fitted warmer. You couldn't get enough of him; you needed more with every passing second, and now with him practically milking your breasts with how he kept pulling and twisting your nipples, you were hopelessly in need of Ghost.

Your heart jarring to keep up with a healthy pace in spite of your embarrassment, you sputtered, "Please punish me more.."

A low chuckle vibrated through his chest, pulling his head back from your shoulder as one of his hands left your tit and grazed it up between your breasts to gently touch your neck, "Punishment isn't meant to be pleasurable, Sergeant."

You tilted your head to the side, allowing his fingers to brush against your pulse and lay comfortably around your throat, “I can’t help it when it’s you punishing me..”

He impulsively allowed his hand to wrap around your supple neck, that small ounce of control he had left finally splitting as his voice dropped down heavy octaves, "You're asking for it now, Bun.."

Swiftly, he released your throat and tore the blindfold right off your head, not giving your eyes a moment to adjust before grabbing onto the back of your bruising nape and pushing you towards the center of the room. You were tripping over your own feet to keep up with his large strides, your legs getting caught up with his in an intertwined mess. Your heart was beating in your ears and your mind was running wild with the varying scenarios that could play out right in this room like the many times before. You were practically dripping at the thought of being manhandled and fucked so stupid that you wouldn't be able to walk for the next few days— hopefully the next few weeks. You might even get your wish with how hasty he was being to get you into place just for him to abuse and litter with his crazed ardor. You brought your hands down to keep yourself steady when he finally got you into a comfortable spot; you were faced right in front of the coffee table, your eyes once again staring at his carelessly thrown about equipment.

Taking no more time to waste, he brutally shoved all his equipment off the table, and slammed your front onto the now clear countertop, breasts down, ass up. You gasped from suddenly being thrown around like a doll, hitting straight onto the wood with a slight bounce, and your pliable flesh rippling from the impact. You could feel the harsh coolness of the wood rub into your nipples, your breasts painfully aroused as your innocent nubs continued to tighten and perk.

In one jarring movement, Ghost had your pants down past your ankles, and your panties left disheveled on your blemished hips with heavy impatience. For the second time, he froze — even if it was only for a split second, you felt it. His hand flinched with a sudden stop against your naked thigh when he began to retract, and the hard breathing that echoed around the soldier had grown quiet for just that moment.

It was proper fucking magic. The way the straps of your underwear perfectly dipped into your glistening flesh, and how your puffy cameltoe was deliciously accentuated by the soft fabric of your cotton panties. It only made his mind spiral helplessly into a feral slop of what it once was, the remembrance of needing to punish you completely forgotten and thrown to the back of his mind. The hunger to ruin your full being was fucking with his brain to where even he was losing his cool.

Like countless times before, he retracted his knife from his chest holster and slammed the 11 inch MTECH right into the oak table, blistering up the surrounding wood layers. He engraved it right in front of your eyes, the brutal sound of the blade ripping straight into the countertop ringing in your ears as you watched his hand linger for just a moment to make sure you acknowledged it, before he let go of the tang with an agonizingly slow retraction — it was a warning.

An unclasping sound startled you out of your stare-off with his weapon, the noise of metal clinking together as his belt buckle laid lax against his thighs coaxing a noise out of you. You swore you were about to lose it when you heard him unbutton his pants, and the unzipping of zipper teeth graze painfully low behind your ass. He was drawing this out for as long as he could, and you knew it, too. From the amount of times he’s edged you, forced you to beg for what you wanted; to put it into perspective, you didn’t know how far gone you could go until you were once on the brink of passing out from the painful edging and needful crying, that’s how well you knew his tendencies.

The knife laid clattered with your torn lingerie, droplets of thick glossy honey dripping onto the long forgotten pile. Slapping of skin and squelching mush underlined heavy growls and sob-filled moans, the room filled with the damp smell of sex and pornish sounds of pleasure.

Through your broken cries, Ghost couldn’t help the snarl that rose from his throat when he felt your weeping cunt brutally hug onto his dick with need. He had lost himself the moment he sunk balls deep into your hole, letting his desire take full responsibility of fucking you till you were completely stuffed with all he could give. He became an animal, his only need being to shove you full with his cock in the most feral way possible. He needed to.

With a final harsh snap of his hips, the grip he had on your waist indented into your skin, and the hold that marked carnally around your neck dug even deeper into your pulse. He sloppily stilled with a small -plap- between your thighs, keeping flush against your raw sex as he took a moment to gather himself. Sweat lined your skins with a shear layer, heavily falling chests fueling the desperate pants for air that puffed against your exertions. You were on the brink of cumming, your pussy convulsing around his cock as you mewled quietly for him to let you release — this was the third time this round he stopped just before you could snap, and the many tears that drooled down your cheeks were evidence of such sin. You couldn’t even beg for it, you poor thing, that’s how far gone you were.

He shut you up with a violent slap on your plump thigh, earning a muffled cry as he made sure his pelvis pressed right into your clit insync.

“Ah ah ah, love— no whining for your fuckings, remember? You’ll take what I give you, and appreciate it like the proper sex whore you are.”

He drew out your orgasm for the next thirty minutes no matter how desperate you cried, or how fucked out you looked. He couldn’t bring himself to let you out of his room without making sure the only thing your body would remember was him and how he was the only one that could fuck you this good. No one could violently edge, or screw you dumb the way his dick could, and your body better fucking remember that.

You felt something hot glide right through your mounds, the moistened cotton of your panties dragging against your clit in slow, shuddering thrusts.

"Fuuckk.. Fuckin' Christ.." Ghost hissed through bared teeth, grinding himself firmly between your wettened thighs, "'Don't know how much longer I can take this.."

You could cry with how badly you needed him inside of you. It was becoming stressfully hard to keep back your curses and whines, and he was picking up on every little frustrated jolt your body made as he made it worse and worse. And it did worsen when you let out a choppy sob as you felt the warmth of his bulge pull away from your soiled underwear, your clit twitching in red searing need for his attention. It all washed away before you could start begging, when you felt a boiling hot heat prod against the very same bud, squealing out when you felt a warm substance smear across your panties up and down over the entrance to your insides.

His fingers hooked under your thin covering and pulled it to the side of your swollen lips, the cold air hitting your exposed inner flesh and causing it to spasm closed. You hiccuped with every passing breath, imagining what was waiting just mere inches away from your weeping hole; is it his fat cock, pulsing blue veins strapping up the underside of his painfully hard arousal? Or was it another teasing set of fingers to ready your cunt for his dick to bottom out inside you? He answered your question to the fullest when he pushed the bulb of his thick cock right between your folds, earning a shocked moan from your quivering lips.

Utterly pleased, he tilted his head back as he savored the way the tip of his aching dick began to slide back and forth against your sex, feeling every wettened, pulsing piece of your cunt. He ran a hand to the dip of your back as he carelessly hung the other at his side, pumping his happy trail with every slow, teasing roll of his hips against your ass.

A guttural sigh purred deep in his chest, one final 'Fuuck..' rumbling through his stitched balaclava before he stilled his hips, regaining some of his lost composure with every raspy breath.

"Time for the— hah..— main event, don't you think, Bun?"

You could only nod as an answer, your heart trying to steady itself while causing a lump to get caught in your throat. Your body was scorching, all too eager to get what you "deserved" and completely milk it for all you could. You were desperate for any friction, and it started showing as you settled your ass back on his twitching desire, small presses and shifting hips never once escaping his sharp eye.

He tutted his tongue in disapproval as he gave your ass a firm smack, letting his dense fingers sink into your plump rear and melt into your flesh, “Patience, little rabbit. All you have to do is say please, and I might consider giving you what you want."

You practically leapt at his offer, twisting your head back to face him with blown out eyes, "Please fuck me, Lieutenant! I can't take this anymore— it's been way too long since we've touched, and I need it! Please, please, please!"

Ghost couldn't help the chuckle that ran up his throat, pushing his glistening cockhead on your burning clit as he started to taunt your pathetic begging, "Who knew the stubborn White Rabbit could be taken down a few notches from just a bloody cock.. What would the team think?"

He slowly glides his fingertips up your spine, going straight from your Venus Dips to your delicate nape with taunting emotive trails of gentle leather kisses, “Not like that matters.. ‘Sides, if they even thought about my dangerous little bun all fucked out and sobbing.. Well, I can guarantee they’d rethink what Hell looked like.”

He leans down over your trembling figure, sliding a hand around to the front of your neck and keeping it in a snug grip, “I don’t give a fuck what the regulations say. You’re mine— all mine to adore..”

Your eyes began to blur with every word, ‘mine’ ringing through your ears like an angel’s love song. It sounded so comforting, so intoxicatingly beautiful that it would’ve brought you down on your knees to listen and hang over every lyric. It would’ve— should’ve been the case, except for the fact that in reality, it wasn’t a heavenly call, but was the Devil in disguise dangling your precious desires right in front of your face with every deep, luscious promise. Fucking Christ.. Who knew the Devil looked so good in black?

“Say it.. Say you’re mine, and I’ll give you my fucking cock to cry over just how you want.”

“I..”

You gathered your mush of a brain to at least spark some type of sense in you. You sputtered silent nonsense as you tried to please him, tried to give him an answer like the good girl you were. It felt impossible, but you managed with what little control you had over your dumbed-out mind, and responded with such a weak waver of song.

“I’m yours, Lieutenant..”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

In one violent push, his cock plunged to the root in your mush, a sickening smack of wet skin signifying your glistening pussy lips now trembling around his dense girth. Had it not been for his tight grip around your pulsing neck, you would’ve screamed— screamed in absolute pleasure of finally feeling him to the fullest context. Your attention remained glued to the knife, the shiny serrated edge glinting at you in mockery of your pathetic cry. But did you care? Absolutely not. Simon Ghost Riley was stuffing your cunt full of his dick for the millionth time this month, and you would never feel even the slightest bit of shame in taking him. You were infatuated. You were drunk on him. You were in love with him.

Just like how he was in love with you, his pretty little Sergeant.

Flexing his muscled back with a satisfied sigh, he ran his strong hands down your waist and held it in a deathly clutch, “You’re not allowed to cum unless I tell you to. Is that understood?”

You felt your lungs tighten as a breathy sigh passed through your lips, “Yes, sir..”

“Good fuck bunny. Such a lovely piece of fuck meat, just for me.”

Wrapping your hair around a knuckles-white grip, he slammed away at your gushing insides in pure animalistic rage, delicious feral fapping and squelching noises dragging him on to fuck you as he set off with no soft pace. You gasped out only to whine and moan against every hard slap of your hips, the weight of his dick pinning right up into your cervix tipping you over already— his cock was long enough to reach far inside your cunt and push delectably into that one weak spot that sent you reeling; thick enough to leave you molded, gapping the shape of his cock as a momento of who fucks— who owns your very being, inside and out. God, you were in pure bliss. Feeling this man every night in his bed has left this hole in your chest, something you couldn’t quite describe without thinking about him doing you in and touching every inch of your body. He’s left his mark on you, forever attached to a ghost that guarded from the shadows, yet a man that bedded you in nothing but his deep primal musk. The sensations of his carnal sin would never excrete; your body, mind, and soul would remember the way he tastes, feels, and fucks for the rest of your life. But was that really a problem?

He leaned his broad frame over your glittering body, making sure each thrust was passionate, invigorating as he intimately kissed your guts with wild heat. You felt his abdomen graze your back with every pull of your hips towards his exposed pelvis, the feeling of hot cotton and tightened muscles looming above your figure as he pressed you further into the table. You were small compared to his burly size, a single hand able to make home around your neck in a clasp that could still touch at the back of your throat. His thighs that kept yours spread were thick, thrusting against them in a firm stance to ensure they stayed apart and around his dense muscles. His torso.. don’t even get started on his torso. The tight fit of his black shirt perfectly accentuated every crisp line of his abdominal muscles, his strong ribs and sharply cut v-line pressing neatly into the fabric around every tensed ab. You were a lucky girl to experience such a deadly built predator like himself rubbing and fucking into your poor subordinate body. He was the size of an ox compared to you, a small bunny.

He growled lowly in your ear as he tugged your head back into his shoulder, “Don’t you ever disobey me again.. Don’t you ever— fuck— go under my authority again.”

Pulling you back on his dick, he slammed into you after every rough word, “Is.. -plap- that.. -plap- under.. -plap- stood?”

Your nails dug straight into the wood, pressing your reddening cheek into his stitched mask in an attempt to ground yourself, “Gnngh! Yes, sir!”

Without another word, he let go of your hair and allowed your head to rest on the cold wood, swiftly taking hold of your arms and pulling them back towards him in a single clasp. He released your bruised waist from his vice clutch, only to grab onto your shoulder and pull you back on his cock as he rashly snarled, “Take it.. Take this fucking cock.”

The tip of his dick deliciously fucked into your tight pussy, the feeling of his happy trail pounding possessively into your ass gushing out more of your stringy honey. He never let up on his assault, making sure you savored this just as much as he was; the way his cock relentlessly claimed every inch of your guts, and marked your pink in glossy white precum. And how with each passing second, your moans grew louder, unfiltered by anything to hold your pleasure back and overpowering his raspy curses and growls.

He starts coming back to himself, slowly but surely, as he drove his hips into yours in a constant state. He began to have the ability to appreciate how he sunk into your sex inch-by thick-inch with mild resistance of your clenching walls, and how your body would jitter perfectly against his when he thrusted just at the right angle. You were so delicious on his dick, trying to milk him for his worth with the vice-like clench you had on his pumping arousal. How he managed to survive the mission was beyond him, but the reward afterwards was all worth the wait as he could finally refill your hole with his veiny, heavy cock.

Tears prickled into your soft lashes, a small hiccup jolting through your ragged breaths, “Oh, God..!”

His hips slowed just enough to where your voice would calm down, taking your chin in a harsh grasp as he removed his hold on your shoulder and forced you to look over at him. His eyes burned holes into yours, clear utter possession and want flaring around his deep leather browns as he watched pearl after pearl streak down your cheeks from your cute butterfly wings.

“You know, it’s very fuckin’ rude to moan another man’s name as I’m bottomin’ out in you, even if you’re praying to God himself.”

With a low scoff, he whispered against your burning ear as he turned your head back to his knife, “Like he could do any better..”

Your stuttering apology slurred into nothing but noise, too fucked out to even try as your mind focused on how his dick twitched inside of you and dragged against your insides. The overwhelming heat of your sex piled and piled, getting far too scorching that you were on the brink of calling it quits. And yet, at the thought of having this end, you couldn’t bring yourself to tap out and return to your original home plan. You were drunk on his cock, the feeling of every pulsing vein and curve of his twitching sex throwing you further and further into the lustful fog at the back of your mind.

Your soppy cunt sucked and squeezed on his dick, your end drawing near with every slap of your coated thighs, and every desperate tug at your aching arms. Your womb burned with the need to snap, your legs shaking violently as your body begged for release, to reach that plain of ecstasy that would make you see fuzzy white. It was driving you mad, the denial to cum earlier ravaging your nerves like a powerful source as he continued to fuck you straight into the table. You were overwhelmed by all the cloudy sensations of sin— his smell, his dick, his chest, his mask— him. It was like biting into the forbidden fruit when you met him behind closed doors, your bodies colliding and dancing in the fires of your own desires as you gave in to your intrusive thoughts of the ghost.

It was likewise for the shadow himself, feeling the wrongs of behaving in such an inappropriate manner with his subordinate, yet being unable to look away from your innocent eyes as he passed by. To him, you were the temptation, the taboo. You were the forbidden fruit that God himself placed before him— a perfect little angel all for him to ruin and claim with every searing touch. He knew he was trapped the moment he gave in and took your body as his with a simple little graze of his fingers across your naked back. He didn’t mean to get attached. He didn’t mean to always come crawling back to your door that sat just across the hall. But he wasn’t dumb. He knew once that innocent little spark ignited in his cold chest, he had to have you. Call it fiction, but it was like fate for you to be his, just as it was his to be yours.

Sliding his hand away from your neck, Ghost pulled up his balaclava just above the tip of his nose before returning his grip to your blemished throat, “You’re going to— fuckin’ shit— cum all over my cock, and scream out my name like the good little fuck rabbit you are. Copy that.”

“Copied..” You moaned as your eyes scathed away from the knife, accentuating the 'e' with a short, fucked-out purr.

He groaned at your weak answer, shoving his clenching jaw into your neck as he looked up at your glistening face, “That’s— That’s my fuckin’ bun.”

As his need grew, he couldn’t hold back the feral upbringing of possession before he sunk his teeth into your flesh, only enough to leave a gruesome mark for your later discovery when you would clean yourself up in the showers. The possessiveness in his affirmation only made your heart flutter as your stomach did flips from how his voice thundered low in a lustful pitch before he laid needful claim on your neck. It didn’t stop there, either, as his teeth made your neck his personal canvas with deep love bites and purpling hickeys— you were his muse, and his muse alone to show off.

Pulling back from yet another hickey with a sickening pop, he placed his skull covered forehead right into your trapezius with a carnal snarl, “In or out, pet.”

You gasped out for a shaky breath of air against his rough thrusts, looking up into the ceiling as you arched your back in acceptance, “In!”

That was all he needed to hear, his pounding into your raw cunt becoming a feral mess of loud squelching and quickened slaps as his abdomen clenched and heavy balls tightened with the need to cum. You weren’t far behind, not in the slightest, as your mushy pussy began to spasm with your pulsing clit, your womb a burning fire that was ready to spread in an instant.

“Oh— cumming! Cumming, cumming, cumming!”

“Say it— say my fuckin’ name. Scream my bloody fucking name to whatever god is listening as you cum.”

That was it. You tipped right over the edge and screamed out his name, screamed out Simon. Your womb stuttered with each thread snapping and flushing throughout your core in convulsing heats, your hips bucking back into his as your eyes crossed up before fluttering shut. His arms quickly encased your body, wrapping around your waist and hugging you close as he fucked into you and coursed you right into overstimulation. With your arms caged under him, and your twitching figure forcing gurgled noises past your lips, he bottomed out inside of your cunt, sharp thrusts pushing every last drop straight into your womb and filling you to the brim.

Strained pants and groans puffed through the air as you came down from your highs, your legs shaking and possibly put out of commission from the restless fucking you had been given. The Lieutenant laid over your worn out body, resting his arms on the table to keep from piling too much weight on your small figure. He gazed at the mess of your spoiled skin from his markings, surging with pride over what he had done to his girl as his panting began to return to normalcy.

His attention snapped down to you, however, when he felt one of your soft fingers delicately trace along his tattooed sleeve, your eyes foggy while you looked over your shaky work. To keep his returning arousal down was a fucking war, but he managed when he noticed a gushing sensation ripple around his softening cock.

Ghost slowly sat up, running his hands over your sweaty skin to see what mess he had left between your quivering legs, and oh boy, did another war tear right through him when he saw that you had creamed all over his pelvis. His seed had began to spill out of your stretched hole, mixing with your own exertion as it traveled down your thighs and leaked straight from the source.

“Fuckin’ hell.. What a mess.”

You could only listen as he pulled out of your cunt, still keeping his form over your body in a protective stance just before he gently picked you up off the table and placed you on his lap when he sat in a chair. He pulled you close to him, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you finally managed to catch your breath and fill back with your lost sanity.

Stroking your back with a careful thumb, he peered down at you and spoke with a soft rasp, “You okay, love?”

You swallowed a forming saliva, wetting your dried throat before responding with a weak voice, “I’m okay.. I just hope they didn’t hear..”

Ghost couldn’t help the smirk that wiped onto his lips, “Oh, I’m sure they did. From the way you screamed my name, there’s no way they didn’t hear you creaming on my dick.”

You shook your head and nuzzled into his bunched shirt, sighing contently despite the sinful activity that just took place, in the debriefing room, no less, “God damn it..”

-

“Let’s go, MacTavish! You’re taking two minutes longer than last time!”

“Yes, sir!”

Price watched as Gaz and Soap wrestled around in the dirt, trying to overthrow one another as the spar continued. Ghost stood silent, arms crossed as he watched the two Sergeants have at each other, noting all their flawed advances and misses.

The Captain flashed his eyes towards his Lieutenant, gazing over his attentive posture before going back to the training, “Where is White?”

“I told her to sleep in for today.” He responded, eyes never once leaving the two men.

“I wonder why..” Price muttered, running a hand down his face with an amused scoff before returning it to his side, “You’re lucky I sent those two off to help with the luggage.”

Ghost just barely gave him a side glance, his own amusement underlying his blank stare before looking back at Soap tackling Gaz.

With a sigh of defeat, he shook his head as he crossed his own arms, “Your way of punishment astounds me, Simon.”

At this, he couldn’t help but let out his own thoughts, a subtle joking tone playing in his voice, “A little harsh directive time and again saves you the trouble, Price.”

“Yeah— saves me the trouble, grants you the pleasure.”

-

This is important

This won’t make your blog look ugly. How could you not reblog this? REBLOGGING THIS COULD SAVE A LIFE!!!

❅ title: christmas morning with the sawamuras

❅ pairing: dad!daichi sawamura x mom!reader

❅ wc: 1.1k

❅ warnings/notes: sfw. suggestive innuendo at the end. domestic fluff.

You hear them before you see them.

“MOMMY! DADDY!” the children yell as they run towards your bed. “WAKE UP!”

There’s the sudden mmffph that’s forced from your husband’s lungs when the first girl lunges herself on top of his once-sleeping form, followed by a loud groan when your other daughter dogpiles both of them. The girls, aged 7 and 5, are accompanied by their 2-year-old brother who isn’t quite big enough to toss himself onto your king-size bed. You hear him whine as he tries to climb his way onto the bed, so you sit up and reach for him, smiling sleepily as you pull him up to join his sisters in terrorizing their father.

“Daddy! Wake up! Mommy, help us!”

“I’m awake,” he grumbles, opening one of his tired eyes to look over at the window. “What time is it? It’s still dark…” he says, reaching for his phone to check.

“IT’S TIME TO OPEN PRESENTS, DADDY!” your middle child informs him before your oldest chimes in. “THERE ARE SO MANY! WE CAN’T EVEN SEE THE FLOOR UNDER THE CHRISTMAS TREE!”

By now, your little boy has crawled his way into your secure arms, both of you watching and giggling at the scene before you. There is a mess of little arms and legs and long, dark brown hair on top of poor Daichi. The love and adoration his daughters have for him is undeniable. He is technically awake, but not enough to satisfy the girls. The 5-year-old presses her little hands against his cheeks and squishes his face as she gets right up in it and yells into his mouth (as if that’s somehow going to make her louder), “DADDY, WAKE UUUUUUUUUPPPPP!!”

But it worked because now Daichi is laughing. “Alright, now you’ve done it!” he announces, his arms breaking free from the weight of his 5-year-old offender to tickle her sides as she tumbles onto the bed next to him in a ball of high-pitched squeals and laughter.

Finally, the children manage to drag their parents out of bed, the girls taking their father by the hands and whisking him away as your baby boy runs after them. You hang back long enough to put your cozy house robe on before walking into the living room where the oldest is ordering her Daddy to sit on the floor to watch them open their presents. After a big stretch and a scratch of his belly, he obliges. Even with messy hair and eyes watery with sleep, your husband is devastatingly handsome. 

“Mommy! You sit there next to Daddy!” 

“She’s almost as bossy as her father,” you muse to your husband as you make your way to the floor next to him.

“I’m not bossy,” he retorts groggily.

You raise your eyebrows at him and press your lips together to stifle the tempting ‘I told you so’ that desperately wants to be said when he starts laying down the law.

“Listen up, kids!” he says with a big yawn. “Here are the rules! All gifts must be handed to me first to see who they’re for! No opening each other’s gifts and no fighting over them either! Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” they all chirp in unison as you kneel behind him to drape your arms over his shoulders and kiss him on the cheek.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper in his ear with a nibble to the lobe.

“Watch it, angel,” he growls with a smirk before turning his focus back to your three crotch goblins.

“Go! Have at it!” he permits with a wave of his hand and immediately three gifts are eagerly shoved in his face. The kids practically dive under the tree like a bunch of wild savages, ripped wrapping paper and ribbons and bows flying every which way.

“Daddy,” your soft-spoken toddler says, holding out a box. “Help open, pwease?”

“Of course, buddy,” Daichi smiles, taking the box as his son sits on his lap. “Oh, babe…”

“Already on it!” you say, halfway to your bedroom to fetch his pocket knife from his nightstand drawer. Seconds later, you’re back, putting the tool in Daichi’s outstretched hand.

“You’re as handy as a pocket on a shirt, you know that?” he grins as you settle beside him on the floor again. “Thanks, babe.” He leans over to give you a quick peck on your smiling lips before turning to his little boy. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you sit in Mommy’s lap so I can help open your box, okay?”

“Nkay…” the boy beams as he climbs his way over to you. He watches intently as his father cuts through the tape before passing the box to him. His little hands awkwardly work the flaps open as his big, brown eyes widen when he sees what’s inside. 

“What is it?” Daichi asks with excitement.

“PIKACHU!” he says gleefully, beaming as he holds the plushie of his favorite Pokemon up for his father to see.

Outside, the sun is breaking the horizon as you and your husband treasure the sight of your three babies as they chatter and shuffle about with the occasional squeal of delight and the steady stream of “Mommy! Daddy! Look!” that accompanies the presentation of every toy and game.

In the midst of the chaos, time seems to slow down when your husband scoots closer to you and pulls you into his lap, trapping you in his strong arms to brush his nose against yours and whisper “I love you”. You slot your lips with his to share a lingering kiss, broken only by your soft proclamation of the love you have for him. 

You’re both smiling against each other’s lips when Daichi says, “Thank you, baby.” 

“Mm…for what?” 

“For them,” he mutters, glancing over at your happy kids before kissing you again, more deeply this time, sneaking in a little tongue.

“EWWW GROSS!!” The two girls protest at the sight of their parents. “They’re sucking each other’s faces again!”

You and Daichi laugh quietly, your romantic moment interrupted. “Such as they are,” your husband jokes, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re welcome, baby,” you chuckle, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Daichi waggles his eyebrows at you with a wicked smirk. “Speaking of which…I’ll give you your present later.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip seductively. “What is it?”

With a small shake of his head, he says, “Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“Is it big?” you snicker.

He nods, his naughty grin growing wider.

“Is it hard?”

“Not yet, but it will be.”

“IS IT A BIKE TIRE??” your 5-year-old guesses loudly, sending you and your husband into a fit of laughter on the floor.

“No, honey,” Daichi wheezes, barely able to get the words out. “But your mom can certainly ride it.” 

“DAICHI!” you scold, playfully slapping his arm as your writhe on the floor with him.

Your daughter looks on with confusion, but eventually shrugs and rejoins her siblings in their pile of presents.

31 days of daichi mlist | main daichi mlist | haikyuu mlist

❅ tagging: @chaoskrakenuwu @yuujispinkhair @luvkun4 @briokayama @mrs-sawamura @heroesfan101 @millenialfanfictionaddiction @lanaxians-2 @darthferbert @hannas16 @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @cookiesandmilksx @whinestonecowgirl @maexc @little-ms-awkward @samkysnks @anejuuuuoy @productivity-blogs @patheticliesblog @strawbmarma @lomons ++ get added

It's like Dean is pregnant with Cass' baby and they're trying to think of what to do because the baby would be a nephilim

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.

KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER

A 500 FOLLOWERS SERIES!

❥SYNOPSIS: as the years went by, bakugo realized that he was the last to get married. the days grew cold and the nights turned lonely. bakugo want's to marry, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. at least he has his trustee secretary!

CHAPTERS: 0—1—2

❥ WARNINGS: implied fem reader, aged-up!, Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥ MASTERLIST

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CHAPTER 1: THE SIMPLETON; YOU.

"accept calls from strangers."

You are a hard-working citizen, you are straightforward, diligent, focused, and most of all. You don’t take anyone’s shit.

Since a young age, you harbored grand aspirations of collaborating with the renowned hero Dynamight. Even during your high school years, witnessing the fledgling hero proclaims his ambition to become the top hero to millions of viewers on live national television deeply resonated with you.

He was a hero you admired deeply, whether that was in combat or in any other position.

Driven by an intense desire to be in close proximity to the fiery and passionate hero, you applied yourself with unwavering diligence. Night after night, you immersed yourself in rigorous study, methodically reviewing each cue card until the ink was exhausted and the pencils were rendered brittle from the forceful strokes onto your notebook.

Before you knew it, you graduated college majoring in hero analysis with a minor in communications.

the first few years after college were hard, without any significant connections, you had little to no experience beforehand to get any major positions in well-affiliated agencies.

Pizza for breakfast and granola bars for dinner, staying up for days and sleeping fewer nights. Going to countless amounts of intervals, passing trial after trial.

yet denied, denied, denied.

you began to lose hope, you felt that all the hard work you did was for nothing. You were fearful of the eventual future set in place for you. A dead-end office job at some random corporate office that could barely pay the bills, "comfortable" housing, and an urge to die because you never lived up to your expectations.

On a rain-soaked day in Japan, a biting chill permeated the air as the relentless downpour battered your umbrella, the droplets cascading off its surface with effortless ease. As you made your way from yet another failed interview, the weight of repeated rejection hung heavily upon you.

This time, however, you didn't feel particularly upset about it. The hero's demands were simply unreasonable, and you had no intention of acquiescing to such outlandish requests. After all, the hero's accomplishments were hardly noteworthy and their reputation was far from impressive. Barely reaching the top 100 rated heroes in Japan, he wasn’t worth any second of your time.

With a resigned sigh, you trudged out into the bustling streets of Japan, surveying the sea of faces before you with a critical eye. Among the throngs of people passing by, you observed carefree children strolling hand in hand with their parents, and trendy teens sporting high-waisted shorts and fishnet stockings, flaunting their disregard for the curfew that surely awaited them.

The distinction between the two groups of people made you notice something, you either abide by the rules or defied them. So then what were you?

You were the simpleton of course, sadly...

Like so many others trudging along these rain-soaked streets, you found yourself caught up in the unrelenting hustle to secure a job that would never truly fulfill you. Your expression was weighed down by the burden of this unending search, with a heavy heart and a growl in your stomach. you absentmindedly made your way into a nearby ramen shop.

the chill of the rain subsides to the warm embrace of the restaurant. Bustling voices of citizens and the loud clanks of kitchenware. you were greeted by the workers and you bowed.

setting your things down at an absent table, you look over to the ordering tablet. clicking a couple of buttons, you ordered your meal. Before you could sulk in your seat, your phone buzzes.

Jolting in surprise, you pick up the phone to read the contact name:

UA WORKFORCE CORP.

Your eyes lit up with unbridled joy and a rush of adrenaline surged through your body. The reason for this sudden surge of excitement was none other than the prospect of being selected as a trainee with UA Corporations, whether it be through the prestigious school or one of the legendary hero agencies affiliated with it. It all began last year when you submitted your application, and the possibility of this dream finally becoming a reality now had you feeling electrified.

Around a couple of months, you've passed through multiple rounds of other people who have applied for the position. Interview after interview, test after test, you knew that if you got the job you'd be on the track that led you to your dream.

"hello!" you said excitedly.

"yes, hello, is this l/n y/n?" a woman says on the other end of the line. You quickly confirm your identity with the woman. "hello there, I'm here to give you acknowledgment of the results of the final round pick for the UA CORP. affiliates position." the woman's voice rang through your phone, heart beating fast...breath staggered your reply.

"y-yes?" you stuttered.

"Yes, l/n, I'm sorry to inform you--"

[CALL ENDED]

With a swift press of a button, you ended the call, tears streaming down your face as you lowered your head to the table. Your body was wracked with sobs, each tear that fell causing your breath to catch in your throat.

why are you not good enough?

As the weight of reality bore down on you, your tears flowed even harder, your throat constricting as you tried to swallow. Was all your hard work for so reason? Are your dreams non-attainable? Is this just not the past you're destined to take?

After a moment, you sat back up in your seat, heedless of the tears and makeup staining your white button-down shirt. With red-rimmed eyes, you reached for your phone and began to scroll through Google, determined to find some sort of solution to the crushing blow you had just been dealt.

'office jobs near me.'

biting your lip, you try and stop your lip from quivering. you felt as if you were destined for despair since you were a child.

Like so many others, you too idolized heroes when you were a child, running around your house with makeshift masks and capes that resembled the same heroes you watched on TV. Full of youthful hope and possessing a fairly decent quirk, you dreamed of one day joining the ranks of these legendary figures.

Fast forward a few years, and you found yourself in middle school. After a long day of classes, you trudged your way back home, collapsed onto your bed, and drifted off into a deep sleep, ready to take on whatever the next day had in store for you.

but the only thing is, you didn't wake up.

you didn't wake up for another three days to be exact. when you finally awoke in the hospital, your parent broke the news to you. You seemed to catch a very rare parasite, this parasite can leave the host sickly with fever, very drowsy, and worst of all...

quirkless.

The following week at school, you shared the news with your classmates: you were essentially quirkless now. But instead of receiving words of encouragement and hope, you found yourself labeled an outcast by everyone around you.

"the girl who lived, but at the cost of her quirk."

Years later, the news still shook you to your core, and you couldn't help but feel stunned. present day, you've noticed that you could still use your quirk from time to time. around 10 times a year, your quirk would come and go in little spurts. but as time grew long, you became accustomed to not using it for a long time, so you never did.

so now here you were, alone, quirkless, and a soon to be slave to the corporate world.

cheeks stained with mascara, eyes red, and head pounding, you look over to the ordering tray, sliding out the hot ramen ready to be consumed.

"at least this ramen can make me feel better," you mumbled to yourself. Taking the large bowl from the tray, you set it out on the table and began to dig in.

As you eat, you begin to scroll ok your phone looking for regular office jobs…

Manager at printing company? No.

Office associates needed at tech company? No.

Receptionist at steel company? No way.

Senior communications analyst? What?

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Deny, deny, deny!

This can’t be your reality right? How are you going to break this down to your parents?

Deep in thought, you didn’t even realize that someone slid in your booth. Tapping away on your phone, you open your messages.

Group chat: Mom & Dad

you: hanging in there! So close!

letting out a sigh, you open the camera app. Looking at the screen you see yourself, torn up from the floor up. Eyes a faint pink contrasting from the red they were a few moments beforehand. Pressing your lips together into a line, you quickly tap your screen to flip your camera.

Flipping your camera, you stare at the screen. A man appears on the other side, as he looks at the camera in embarrassment.

Eyes widening you gasp, “Excuse me, but there’s other seats around,” you try to sound as nice as possible, but why should you be nice if today hasn’t been so nice to you back?

The man was covered in black from head to toe, black hood on tight, as he looks at you. Black-shaded glasses and a matching face mask on him.

“Um, can I sit with you please?” He says.

Rolling your eyes, you become irritated, “no. now if you can please move–“

“Please, I can’t sit alone, people will notice me!” He whispers, body leaning in towards you, jolting backward, you frown in confusion.

“What?” You say, tone cold and filled with irritancy.

“Um…listen this is the only time I’ve got to myself, and I love this place! And if people see me alone then they’ll notice me, so can I just please sit with you?”

Blinking rapidly, you grew quiet.

Looking around, you see no one looking toward you or the mysterious man ahead of you. Looking back, you then sink into your seat. Grabbing your face with your hands, you soon let out a deep sigh.

“Sure, fuck it, go ahead, this day can’t possibly get any worse!” You laugh to yourself. This makes the man’s head tilt.

“May I ask why your day is bad?” He says. Removing your hands from your face you give him a deadpan look. Licking your lips you sit up from your chair and grab your utensils.

Stirring your noodles around you let out a dry chuckle, “Let’s just say things never go the way I want them to—and there’s also a random man in front of my face when I could really like being alone at the moment…the small things.”

You say, sarcasm drenched with every word you spoke. This makes the man laugh, “Sorry your day has been shit.”

Leaning into his seat, you crossed his arms. “Maybe I can make your day better? Go ahead, have at me,” the man says.

Letting out an irritated sigh, you confess.

“The only thing that can make me happy at the moment, is if you can somehow give me a job at UA Corp.”

You chuckle, the utter impossibility of what you just said made it humorous. “Really?” The man says. “Really,” you replied back.

“I think I can do that,” he says, his tone relaxed and suave—he sounds as if he can in fact…do that.

“As if,” you snort.

“You wanna make it a bet?” He says, his tone was playful and a tad bit flirtatious. “I can get you to work for the top pro-hero’s in the country, all I need to do is make the call.” He says as every word falls off his tongue with no effort.

This peaks your interests.

“You don’t say?” you reply back.

“Who do you want to work for sweetheart? Just give me any name.” He says.

“Okay…Dynamight, I—I want to become a secretary! That’s the position!” You say, your tone desperate and hopeful.

The man smirks behind his mask, “Okay.” Pulling out his phone, he hands it to you. “Give me your number, you’ll be getting a call soon.” He says, biting your lip you grab the phone and do as he says.

You're well aware of the dangers of blindly accepting what strangers say; it's like common sense 101. And yet, here you are, drawn towards a man who's covered in black from head to toe. It's not the smartest move, but there's just something about him that makes you want to place your faith in him. You can't quite put your finger on it - maybe it's the intensity of his gaze, or the air of mystery surrounding him - but you can't help but feel a strange attraction towards him. It's a risky move, but sometimes you just have to trust your gut, even if it defies all reason.

“Do you promise?” You spoke softly, this earns a chuckle out of the man, “Of course! You’re making a deal with a god—not a devil.”

As you gaze into the stranger's dark eyes, you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. There's something about him that doesn't sit right, and whatever god he may or may not represent, he's not exactly acting like one. But despite your reservations, you continue to chat with him, and as the conversation flows, you begin to let your guard down. Eventually, you find yourself sinking back into your seat, pouting slightly as you polish off the rest of your meal. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's just something about this mysterious man that's drawing you in, despite all the warning signs.

You're not quite sure how to process the choices you've made, given how impulsive they were. It's not exactly the wisest decision to act on a whim fueled by intense emotions, but you simply didn't give a damn. Life's been pretty rough lately, and if things are already this bad, then why not make them even worse? That seems to be your thought process, as you ride the waves of your tumultuous feelings, consequences be damned.

throwing your utensils into the empty bowl, you gather your things and shuffle out of the booth. Standing before the mysterious man, you frown. "are you going to eat anything?" you ask.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna eat somewhere else...you've made me have a taste for something else." Soon, the man jumps out of his seat and walks away, brushing past your shoulder with ease.

Astonished, you look back and watch the man leave out the restaurant in a hurry.

What just happened?

for the rest of the day, you carried yourself through your regular routine. eat, think, cry, repeat. As day turned to noon, and noon falls tonight...you grew anxious for a reply from the mysterious man you met earlier today. Heart pounding and blood running cold you sit in your apartment kitchen, your phone a couple of feet away from you on the kitchen counter. As you were sitting on the other side, the wooden chair creaked with every movement you made.

You didn't know what to think of the situation before you, looking around the apartment, the shadows grew as you fell deeper into the times of night. Looking at the clock, it read 10:39pm.

Letting out a sigh, you rise from your seat and grab your phone. you head into your bedroom, crashing onto your bed (that could be softer) you lay and stare at the ceiling.

"Is this my life now?" you questioned yourself.

You purse your lips and shut your eyes tight, hoping to drift off into slumber and escape the terrible day that's left you feeling like crap. Sleep seems like the perfect distraction - a chance to shut out the world and forget all the stress and negativity that's been weighing you down. With a deep breath, you try to clear your mind and let yourself sink into the warm embrace of sleep, hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

the sounds of your phone sound an alarm through your body, shooting up from your bed you scramble to your phone. breath staggered and heart pounding, you reach for your phone and read the contact number.

ANONONYMUS CALLER

eyeing the phone more, you read the time. 5:57am? It's way too early to be answering calls...but you knew this call could be important. Taking in a deep breath, you answer the phone.

"h-hello?" you say, you breathed hard onto the other end. Anticipating the voice on the other end of the phone. A moment has passed by, the phone still attached to your ear, you sit on your bed waiting for someone to speak.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" you ask again, you hear nothing but static on the other end. Swallowing your spit, you curse and begin to end the call.

"l/n, isn't it?" a familiar voice rang out, eyes widening you press your ear back onto the phone. "yes! This is she!" you softly exclaimed.

"you've got the job, I'm sending you the location of where you need to be...meet me there at 8:30am sharp not a minute before, not a minute after. Do you understand me?" the voice rang cold, monotone, and raspy.

your heart was jumping out of your skeleton at this point, unable to refuse, you complied. "Okay! Thank you again, for helping me...whoever you are," you say.

"Don't mention it, you'll know who I am, and soon everything will fall into place," maybe you were hearing things, but you could hear a twinge of humor in his tone.

before you could reply, the phone disconnected from the call. you couldn't believe it. "I'm working for Dynamight?" you say aloud, in disbelief. A smile etched onto your face, but you soon wiped it off.

Standing from your bed, you began to pace. "let's not celebrate now y/n, there are still many factors that need to be noticed..."

factors which are:

where is this location?

this could be a trafficking scam

you could be dead in a couple of hours

but what if it was real?

The power of belief was astounding - it seemed that the mere possibility of something being real outweighed all other considerations tenfold. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you prepared to head to the location, eagerly zooming around your room to fix your hair and makeup. You even practiced your best customer service voice, running through lines and mentally rehearsing how you would handle different scenarios. All that mattered was making a good impression, and the prospect of the unknown made your heart race with anticipation.

"How can I help you Mr. Dynamight?" "Your meeting is scheduled at this time Mr. Dynamight" "Would you like any coffee Mr. Dynamight?" you in your sweetest voice possible. Giggling in excitement you reach for the bottom drawer of your dresser.

Pulling the drawer, you smile with excitement. "The time has come, you're finally getting what you deserve." Looking down at the clothes before you, you planned on wearing this outfit for the first day on the job.

You expected to find your outfit covered in cobwebs when you pulled it out of the drawer, but to your surprise, it was in impeccable condition. Not a single wrinkle marred the pristine fabric, and there wasn't a single stain to be found. You had ironed and steamed everything to perfection, determined to look your absolute best. Your outfit was the epitome of sophistication - a classic white button-down paired with sleek black work pants and matching heels. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you admired yourself in the mirror, ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead.

throwing your clothes on, you read the clock, 7:51am. eyes widening, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before grabbing your things and rushing out the door.

flagging down a taxi, you hurriedly give the driver the location. your heart leaped from your chest once more when you read the location details on the screen.

DYNAMIGHT RIOT HERO AGENCY ©

this is seriously happening? you thought to yourself.

"you work there ma'am?" the taxi driver asks. a new rush of pride washes over you, "yes, I do...it's my first day." you say, a shy smile paints over your face. "congrats, I heard it's not so easy getting a job at places like that, my niece tried to work there but got denied after 2 years of interviews."

"wow," was the only word that could come out of your lips.

"how'd you get in? connections?" he pries. "um...you could say that, but I think I got here out of pure luck, you wouldn't believe it." You chuckle, the man smacks his lips at your reply, obviously upset at your success. Forming your mouth into an "oh," you sit back in your seat and look away from the man.

The silence between you and the man lingered awkwardly for what felt like an eternity, as the taxi sped on for the next 20 minutes. You were relieved to finally see the agency's headquarters looming up ahead, massive in size and bold in color. The building stood tall, almost like a skyscraper, with bright hues of red and orange radiating from its walls. Your eyes widened in amazement as you watched countless people streaming in and out of the entrance, going about their day-to-day business. As the taxi slowed to a stop, the driver tried to navigate his way toward the front of the building, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nervousness at what lay ahead.

"thank you!" before the taxi could even stop, you jump out of the vehicle. Throwing your total amount for the ride into the car, you slam the door and rush towards the building. Clutching your briefcase tight, you swallow the lump in your throat.

Before stepping forward, you feel your phone vibrate. It's another text from the man you met yesterday.

ANONYMOUS:

walk into the building and head straight into the right elevator by the bathroom, when you get in go to the 21st floor.

when you get there, there will be a front desk. ask for red. tell them your name, and they'll know who you are.

a lady will lead you into a room, wait there until further notice.

"here goes nothing," putting the phone away you do as you were told and walk into the building. you were absolutely astonished by the size of the first floor, to the point where you became overwhelmed. businessmen and woman hustling to their destination, mascots dancing to the faint music, trying to stay on the beat but the sound of children screaming in amusement drown out the tempo. tour guides leading the way for curious visitors.

this place was a workplace war zone...

letting your heels carry you away, you head towards said elevators. you waited patiently in line to enter the elevator. looking at the elevators, you look at the vinyl art on it. It's a picture of Dynamight and his partner Red Riot, fists in the air and victorious smiles shining bright you read the quote on the elevator.

"work hard, grab victory by the throat, and win!"

very Dynamight coded, you'll say.

packing into the elevator like sardines, you notice there's an assistant there who presses the buttons. Do they seriously need a position like that here? "Floor 21 please!" you yell out. You notice the multiple workers give you an unreadable look, frowning you hang your head low in embarrassment.

after a good 3 minutes of waiting your turn, you finally reach your designated floor. squishing past the still rather large group of people, you take in a deep breath of fresh air. Holding your briefcase tight, you look back and thank the assistant.

"good luck, you'll need it," the assistant and everyone else in the elevator starts to burst into a fit of laughter. confused, you were about to ask why but the elevator quickly closed. adjusting your uniform, you bite the inside of your cheek.

"don't let them get to you y/n, this is your dream," you reassure yourself, stepping towards the front desk. you see a lady, her mid-forties at least. typing rapidly at her computer. "Excuse me, ma'am," you say softly, you watch as the lady's typing comes to a swift halt.

"yes?" she says, rather rudely, still looking at her computer.

blinking, a little bit held back from shock "Hi, I'm here to see Red? I-I'm l/n y/n." the lady soon lets out a chuckle, turning away from you, she opens up a drawer and pulls out a paper. pulling at the paper, she grabs a pen and writes your name down and hands you a name tag sticker.

As you examined the sticker more closely, you couldn't help but cringe at its childish design. Tiny caricatures of pro-heroes adorned the borders of the "Hi, my name is!" label, and you felt a pang of embarrassment as you peeled it off and quickly slapped it onto the left side of your chest, right over your heart. It was a small gesture, but it hurt your pride to have to wear something so unprofessional.

"Please walk into that room over there...and also, word of advice, you should start wearing all black," the lady smirks, taking her hands and running them down her body. showing you that she is in fact, wearing all black.

looking down at your white shirt, you face heats up from your embarrassment. "may I ask why?" you say. The lady continues to do her work, not even giving you a look of acknowledgement.

nodding, you give a polite bow and head into the waiting room. As you walk into the room, you're filled with shock. the room was quite large...but there was only one seat? Deadpan in the middle of the room, the metal chair sits unharmed. you laugh out of nervousness, the sight of the chair makes the embarrassment you felt merely seconds ago wash away.

walking to the seat, you sit and patiently wait. The sound of the fluorescent lights buzzing, at the white noise, fills your eardrums. you quietly tapped your fingertips against your briefcase to the imaginary beat in your head. looking around, all you see is the grey carpeting and white walls, and the tv straight ahead of you.

you waited for a good 30 minutes in silence, distracting yourself on your phone as you waited, and waited, and waited. You constantly kept checking your messages, hoping for another anonymous message. but was left with a dry phone.

letting out a sigh, you frown. "is this some joke?" looking around the room, you spot a security camera behind you in the corner of the room. it's blinking red light flashing into your eyes, turning around you ponder to yourself.

"This must be a joke, that's why everyone has been laughing at me this whole time. I should've never come here," defeated, you began to gather your things. As you stood up to head for the door, the lights soon cut off. you let out a yelp, hands extending out towards the chair, and you sit back down.

the tv you saw soon cuts on, a bright white screen shines and takes over the whole room.

"WELCOME L/N Y/N!" the screen says blankly, the text blinking on and off, if this was supposed to invoke excitement, it's doing the bare minimum. you stare at the screen and wait for anything else, but the screen soon goes black. another minute in the dark passes by as you sit in your seat absolutely dumbfounded.

the screen turns on again, this time there's faint music sounding from it. soon you see a random person on the screen, probably a paid actor. "hello there fellow newbie! Welcome to Dynamight Riot Hero's Headquarters! Today, I'll be with you along the ride as we both become secretaries!" the actress, obviously way too happy to be here inquiries.

after watching the 10-minute-long do's and don't's video, the screen blinks to white again. squinting your eyes at the right light, the black sans serif font shows on the screen again.

KEY REMINDERS:

DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE A SECRETARY!

BE A GOOD WORKER!

ALWAYS BE ON TIME!

AND MOST OF ALL: WORD HARD!!

soon after the screen, turns off. a couple of seconds do by and the room lights flash back on, covering your eyes so that you don't get flash-banged for the fifteenth time. eyes still covered, you hear a door open and footsteps walk towards you.

uncovering your eyes, you look towards the floor to adjust to the bright white lighting. "so sorry, just give me a second!" you nervously chuckle. "don't worry, take your time!" the voice says politely.

wait, that voice.

it's the man you saw yesterday. your hand soon uncovers your eyes and you look up. "it's you-" eyes shooting wide, your hand flings to your mouth.

Red Riot?

"ah, guilty as charged! Happy to see me and not some creep aren't ya? You really need to have a better guard, I could've just been anybody!" he laughs.

a frown soon comes towards your face, "so you were the guy at the ramen restaurant? Why the hell was you there?" you growl. The pro-hero frowns playfully at your attitude.

"tone, little miss. that isn't a way to talk to your new boss. you know I thought we let in a complete stranger, you look so different when your face isn't soaked with tears and runny mascara." he jabs at you with a mischievous grin.

"What? Boss? Dynamight's my boss!" you argue. Red Riot rolls his eyes at your words, "Last time I checked my name is out on that building and in that shitty little video you just watched. and you're gonna wish you worked for me and instead of him by the time this day goes by."

your frown never left your lips, "can we start now?" you say.

"Sure! right this way!" he says, walking away from you, you hurriedly grab your bags and walk alongside him. before you could reach the door. the hero turns and blocks your way from seeing the other side.

"Also, um...wear all black next time." he says, his eyes travel down your figure, and you bite your lips in embarrassment. "why?" you ask. "Because it is a thing we do here, we want everyone to be seen as equals to us, we are all people here at the end of the day, hence we all wear the same thing. Plus, it's because we say so and it looks cool." he chuckles to himself at his last words, turning around he walks away.

As you walked into the office setting, you couldn't help but feel a sense of shock and disbelief. Everywhere you looked, it seemed like the people around you were robots going about their tasks with mechanical precision. Everyone wore the same drab black outfits, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was some kind of strange joke.

The more you walked, you could feel the eyes of the other employees snapping toward you, their stifled chuckles and whispers following you with every step. It was as if they were all in on some kind of inside joke, and you couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this strange, black-button-down world.

As Red Riot led you around the office, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over you. Here you were, walking alongside one of the most legendary heroes of all time. It was hard to believe that this was actually happening - that you were standing in the same room as Red Riot himself. Despite your nerves, you couldn't stop smiling as you walked, eagerly listening to every word that he had to say. It was as if you were soaking up every moment of this incredible experience, committing it all to memory so that you could remember it forever. As you continued to explore the office, you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget.

"And here's our final stop! The boss's office, the one and only Dynamight's quarters" he says. "you'll be in and out of here often, so get ready for that," he chuckles. you quickly nod at his words, "before I let you in this room, do you have any questions?" he asks.

you shake your head no, licking your lips you look forward at the doors. The golden plate shined brightly as it read his name:

PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT: かつき ばくご

"Alright then!" soon, the hero bangs on the door. "see you around, fresh meat! by the way, cute sticker" he laughs, walking away from you. You were left standing in shock, did he just leave you here all alone?

"Come in," you hear a voice say. eyes snapping towards the door. You let out a shaky breath. Grabbing the door handle you slowly twist. "don't be a pussy y/n, you wanted this!" you whisper to yourself. Pushing the door open, words couldn't express the emotions you felt at this moment. Looking at your one and only inspiration in front of you, in all his glory.

Dynamight!

The sun was rising outside, casting a golden light over the room and illuminating the blond hair of the number one hero. As he looked into your eyes, you couldn't help but notice the way that his amber irises seemed to glow in the light. It was as if he was lit from within, radiating power and confidence. You took a quick glance at his attire and noticed that he was wearing a simple black shirt and matching sweatpants. It wasn't exactly business casual, but who were you to judge? This man was the number one hero, after all. He could walk in wearing a clown suit and you wouldn't bat an eyelash.

"You're the new hire? Right?" he says, his voice deep and captivating, way calmer than what you've seen on tv as it is early in the morning. You nod your head, the hero guides his hand towards the open seat in front of his desk, you follow and sit in the comfortable leather chair.

"Yes, my name is L/n Y/n!" you spoke softly, "I know." He spits back, you blame it on the early mornings. "Here are some ground rules we need to set in place, firstly..."

As he continued to speak, you found yourself hanging on his every word, completely swept up in his presence. It was almost surreal to be sitting across from the pro-hero, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and disbelief. You quickly pinched your thigh, just to make sure you weren't dreaming.

As you looked at Dynamight, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Seeing him in person was a completely different experience altogether - and you couldn't help but think that he was even more attractive up close. Maybe it was the fact that he was being so soft-spoken with you at the moment. How many people had actually seen him like this before? You couldn't help but wonder if this was a rare occurrence, and you silently thanked the heavens and the stars above that you were one of the few lucky ones to witness it.

The way his muscles flex as he holds your résumé–

Wait, how did he get your résumé?

“Excuse me?” You chime in, the pro-hero hangs his head low for a moment. Lifting his head up, he lets out a sigh, “I don’t like to be interrupted…l/n” he says. “I’m sorry I just have a question,” you state.

“Shoot,” he says, sarcasm oozing from his tone.

“How exactly did you get my résumé?” You asked, “What? Did you think we weren’t going to do a background check on you? You could be some psychotic fan for all I fuckin’ know,” he says, the morning rasp in his tone sends you ablaze as heat rises to your face.

“Oh! Right, well I’m not so,” you awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah I know, you’ve gotta…pretty good lookin’ résumé here,” the hero flips through a couple of pages, confirming his words.

You couldn’t believe it, the Dynamight called you qualified for the job! “Thank you so much! It means a lot to me that–“

“Okay listen, l/n, it’s early in the morning, and me and my partner just came back abroad from a goddamn mission. So imagine how I feel sitting here at this desk talkin’ to you and filling out these papers instead of in my bed sound a fuckin’ sleep. I’m gonna need you to tone it down alright?” He says, his tone raises as he grows irritated at your chipper attitude.

Blinking you bow in your seat, “I’m sorry Mr. Dynamight!” You spoke softly. “Don’t call me that, please just…don’t.” The hero rises from his seat and walks towards the door, you quickly stand up and follow suit.

“What should I call you then?” You spoke, his back facing towards you, the man let out a deep sigh, his palm cradling his neck. Rubbing the sensitive spot as he quietly hisses in pain.

“Just call me Dynamight, I don’t need people to go around calling you a lost puppy looking for their owner with the damn honorifics,” he says.

A brief moment of silence enveloped the large office, as the sound of the ticking clock grew increasingly louder with each passing second. Suddenly, Dynamight broke the stillness with a deep, audible sigh, turning to face you with a look of slight exasperation on his face. It was clear that he had a lot on his mind and a lot to worry about. And it seems like you're not making it any easier.

“When you came up here to this room, I hope you noticed why everyone was laughing at you. I want you to take what you went through into deep analysis…l/n.” He says, his tone sharp and crude as his eyes bore into your being.

“Why’d you sit in that waiting room with only one fuckin’ chair? Eh?” He says, a hint of humor in his tone. Your frown at him, looking down you try to really think back as to what happened.

“I’m sorry, Dynamight—I’m not sure.” You spoke, this makes the hero frown. “The reason why—is because every Secretary that has worked for me has quit.”

oh.

Swallowing your spit, you nod understanding the real reasoning behind the dirty looks and laughs. “Every single secretary that has been under me quits in no less than three months has quit, you wanna know why? Because of me.” He says as a sinister smile tugs at his lips, almost as if he’s proud of it.

“Well…how do you know that I’m not different?” You mumbled. The hero lets out a chuckle, because—I got a feeling you won’t last a month. You can prance around here with your happy attitude and white button-down, but I and you both know that you’re supposed to wear black.”

Why the hell does wearing black matter so much here?!

“So you’ve already defied me once, you get three strikes, no if, and's, or but's about it. And we both know what happens when you get to strike three,” he says smugly. “Don’t we?” He asks.

“Yes…Dynamight, we do.”

You couldn't deny the fact that you were a little bit scared about what the future held for you here. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you walked through the office. You were determined to make the best of this opportunity, even if it meant dealing with a difficult boss or two. After all, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way, as long as it meant being able to take this incredible opportunity.

“Good,” he says, his smile drops and he soon opens the door, letting it slam onto the wall. This makes you jump, you quickly gather your things and foll

behind.

You watch as all the employees ride from their seats and greet the hero. But he doesn’t give as much as a mumble back in reply.

“You’re going to be following me around for the day, can you do that task?” He asks, you nod and speak, “Yes, Dynamight I can.”

You were happy to be alongside the hero, he was your inspiration, your happiness, your sadness, but little did you know from now on.

You’d hate his guts.

HEY GUYS! Honestly did not expect for this to blow up, thanks so much for the kind words! ALREADY CLOSE TO 600 FOLLOWERS? It’s literally been two days you guys are crazy!! I wanted to make sure that I got this done by today, even though this literally took me forever to complete.

I have so much on the way, trying out a different format for my theme. Hope you guys take notice in it. Till then!

— 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 ❤︎︎

❥ : @skeletonblush @smolbeanzzz @gold24fish @stablecreator93 @itgetzweird08 @xo-evangeline @akqsa-xxi @gaby-11 @suchagoodgirlxoxo @r-ans @hunny-hotline @superkittywonderland @jolynegf @sad0nion @nar00 @gingerbread-ginza @noxva08 @xaslieex

Ephemeral oblivion

A/N: I'm loving the remake so far. So, expect more fics in the far future.

Word count: 3.8k

WARNINGS: fem!reader, porn with no plot, a bit of blood, teasing, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex

The snow-white door, peppered with elegant golden ornaments, lead to an eerie corridor. Unnerving -almost alarming- silence had fallen upon the prolonged space, contrasting the commotion of the previous room that had been overcrowded with hostile courtiers the two agents were forced to take out. The stone brick walls emitted coolness and a cold breeze oozed from the tall windows; the dust-covered glass revealed the dreadful night sky deprived of the gentle moonlight that was obstructed by a thick sheet of puffy, smoky clouds. A lonely antique brass floor lamp stood in a darkened corner, serving no purpose other than decoration; opposite of the lamp was a small wooden coffee table atop which rested a typewriter.

"That was close." Leon panted, hot puffs of air escaped past his agape mouth, his chest rose and feel back against the door. Beads of sweat had broken out on his fair skin, making it glow under the scarce moonlight; the muscles of his arms were tense as they pressed against the hard wood, the impact caused a few of his veins to pop out, trailing deep blue and purple creeks that trailed along his pale skin up to the pinnacle of his biceps.

"You don't say." (Y/N) tsked as she shifted her attention away from his masterpiece of a body, leaning against the cold wall just mere inches away from him and relished the pleasant sensation of the stone bricks cooling her overheated body instead. Her heart raced in her ribcage; every beat echoed loudly in her ears.

Once the effects of the adrenaline began to wear off, the pleasant coolness of the room quickly turned into an unbearable coldness. Despite having her arms wrapped around her torso in a hopeless attempt to preserve her body heat, (Y/N) shivered as the howling wind blew in the narrow space; the haunting noise only caused another set of shivers to run down her spine. Beside her, Leon seemed unphased by the cool weather and his lack of clothing; it almost made her blood boil at how carelessly he would walk around with a short-sleeved turtle neck the thin fabric of which unlikely did anything to keep him warm. Her envious eyes lingered on his form, continuing to doubt he was able to withstand the low temperatures, instead she sensed a spark rekindling deep within her that brought the warm feeling of thrill she so desperately tried to repress ever since the beginning of this assignment.

Blood traveled to her cheeks, blissfully warming them up; her pupils dilated further, darkening her gaze that continued to trace the outlines of his sculpturesque form that appeared silky smooth and flawless hugged by the gray material of his turtle neck that she couldn’t help but associate with a notional look of a fantasy creature, blessing her with its presence. Her hands trembled as the adrenaline had completely evaporated from her bloodstream and she was left with a wave of cold sweat that coated her shivering form. Heat radiated from his body, drawing her in. His captivating appeal repelled her as much as it attracted her. Even if she tried her best to distance herself from Leon in the end, she found herself clinging closer to him; it was a vicious circle she couldn’t get out of and she hated herself for it. From their very first encounter, (Y/N) knew she should avoid him, not get involved in a situation that may result in a heartbreak. Though, as if it was some sick joke the universe was playing on her, fate only brought them closer and now she was forced to deal with it.

"A 'thank you' would be nice." He looked at her. The blues of his eyes were deep, different hues collided together as his pupils dilated and ate away at the beautiful ocean of emotions, instead leaving behind gaping holes that -akin to a black hole- could swallow her whole.

"For what?" She raised her brow at him, her own gaze now locked on his as her eyes squinted.

"For saving your ass." The corners of his lips curled in a smug grin; he pressed his shoulder against the door, shifting his form so he was fully facing her. Intentionally or not, he successfully anchored her attention to his broad shoulders; (Y/N)’s eyes followed the outline of his form that threw a shadow across her much smaller one.

“And how exactly did you do that?” She stood on her tip toes, almost completely closing the already short distance between them. Leon’s hot breath hit her face as he let out a deep chuckle; the melodic sound resonated through her, tingling her senses in a way they have never been. Silence fell upon them; his icy orbs bore into her (E/C) ones as he darted his tongue across his bottom lip, coating it with saliva that glistened under the dim moonshine. (Y/N) felt her heartbeat picking up once more, in anticipation for the last drop to overflow the glass of repressed emotions and release the awfully obvious sexual tension between them.

“You get distracted easily.” He tailed off; his gaze observed her face, monitoring her features. “Take it as a friendly advice from me. Try not to daydream on the job, it could get you killed and I won’t always be there to watch after your ass even if I would like to.” He breathed out the last words, loud enough for (Y/N) to hear; the tone of his voice was suggestive, giving a double meaning to his statement. Heat rose to her cheeks; anger and embarrassment ran through her veins.

How dare he?

Pulling at the strap, tightly wrapped around his muscular chest, she held him from drawing back; her gaze- ablaze with flames of anger- pierced through him, causing him to freeze in place. Her eyebrow knit together casted a shadow above her eyes; his own darted between her captivating gaze and her oh so inviting lips.

“Maybe if you didn’t flirt with me every five minutes, I would’ve been able to focus on my job!” (Y/N) snapped back at him; the force of her grip grew as Leon’s face kept getting closer to hers with each passing second. “Perhaps you’re the one, who should stop daydreaming while on duty since your head is always in the clouds.”

“Is that so?” He dared, staring right back at her.

“Yeah. You can’t have every woman you lay your eyes on. Get it in that head of yours.” Her gaze darted downwards, breaking the eye contact for a split second- the single moment that took Leon to make a choice he might regret later. Digging his hand in her hair, he tangled his fingers in her locks as he closed the space between them. Soft lips crashed against hers in a passionate kiss that was both hesitant and needy. Boldly, (Y/N) leaned in and wrapped her arms around his neck; her nails lightly scratched at his skin, the sensation caused a whimper to rip through his throat and drown in her greedy mouth. Her fingers toyed with the hair at the base of his skull, dragging her nails along his scalp and digging them, intentionally coaxing the pretty sounds that resonated against her lips. Wandering hands traveled across the curves of her body, groping at any soft flesh they came across. (Y/N) bit at his bottom lip, breaking the kiss as she took her time sucking and pulling at the velvety skin. Continuing the abuse on his lip, she punctured the pillow soft flesh, causing droplets of blood to spill on her tongue and roll down her chin. The metallic taste tingled her taste buds as she lapped at his plum lip before she continued her venture down to his jaw. Sucking and kissing, she trailed the sharp line of the bone; Leon’s shaky breath tickled her ear. Strong force pulled her away right before she could reach the warm, delicate skin of his neck. Though she didn’t protest as she took a glance of his face; so worked up and messy. His mouth blood stained and agape, his eyes lustful and desperate, yet controlled and contained as they were focused on her.

“What’s up, Kennedy? Giving up so easily?” She tapped her fingers on his arms that held her at a distance.

“I didn’t expect you to be the freaky type is all.” Her heartfelt laughter resonated in his ears.

“Well, you better buckle up for what I got in store.” She shot him a mischievous look and leaned in for another kiss that Leon wholeheartedly welcomed all the while a similar impish grin curled the corners of his mouth. His palms ran down to her ass, groping the skin in a rough manner; (Y/N) whimpered, unintentionally granting him access to her mouth, where he sucked and bit at her tongue. She hissed; her nails dug in his flesh once more this time inflicting the same blissful pain on him. The calloused skin of his finger pads ran underneath the fabric of her gear, slightly pulling them down only to toy with the plush skin of her inner thighs. Shivers ran down her spine at the sensation of his cool digits rubbing in circular motions that were dangerously close to her aching pussy; the friction of his fingers on her velvety skin brought a warming sensation that made her forget about the chill inducing breeze. The air around them seemed to thicken; she felt breathless as Leon’s lips tirelessly pressed against hers.

(Y/N) gasped for air once he finally pulled away, a string of their mixed saliva connected their plump lips; their gazes were locked on one another, their foreheads were pressed against each other all the while their noses slightly brushed. Her breath was still shaky and her hands were clasped together around his neck, balancing her weight on him. The golden curtain of his bangs tickled her flushed cheek.

“Are you sure you want this?” His low voice was delicate and sweet.

“More than anything.” Desperation flickered behind the (E/C) of her almost invisible irises, hidden behind the gaping black of her pupils. A bright smile appeared on his face, making his stupid face all the more irresistible, though (Y/N) couldn’t appreciate the sight enough as she was suddenly lifted from the ground in a singular motion as if she weighted nothing. A yelp escaped past her lips at the grip of his arms tightening around her thighs; in return her own grip on him tightened as well almost chocking him under the impact of her hold. Though it seemed that didn’t bother Leon much, for his attention was focused on getting rid of the barrier of vexatious fabrics that restricted him from the pleasure he was so eagerly seeking. With his body he pinned her against the cold wall, whilst his hands worked on undoing her gear.

A gasp escaped past her lips as the cold air made its presence known with the cool breeze caressing her exposed ass, though Leon’s electrifying touch kept the flame within her ablaze; his hot breath and the warmth emitted from his body, made for a nice contrast to the freezing cold of the stone bricks (Y/N) was pressed against. For a few brief moments, Leon stood still with only his gaze scanning their surroundings in cautious manner; his attention was caught by the odd typewriter. The typewriter itself wasn’t strange but its presence in a desolate corridor was inapposite to say the least; so, without hesitation, Leon knocked it to the ground and sat (Y/N) on the table, where the machine was previously placed.

“Salazar’s not going to be happy when he sees this.” She remarked, the joking tone in her voice brought a smile to Leon’s face.

“A broken typing machine is going to be the least of his worries once we’re finished.” He struck her with a mischievous smirk as he got on his knees; hooking his fingers under the band of her pants, he pulled the fabric all the way down to her ankles. Holding her knees, he spread her legs apart; his gaze found hers all the while his palms crept up to her inner thighs, where his fingers rubbed circles into her plush skin. (Y/N)’s body jolted at his touch gentle and teasing as he avoided the place, she needed him most. Keeping his keen gaze on her, he toyed at her entrance, circling and pressing at her dripping hole without thrusting even an inch. The impact of his fingers on her aching core had her squirm, yet the stimuli was far from enough to grant her the actual pleasure she was seeking- or at least not in the amounts she wanted.

You’re so wet, sweetheart.” He remarked, a smug grin had curled the corners of his lips. “But I don’t skip prep so, you’ll have to wait a bit. I promise it’s gonna be worth it.” At first (Y/N) wasn’t pleased with his words; having thought of this moment in her wildest dreams for so long, her patience was wearing thin, though the words of protest drowned in the base of her throat and her mind went blank as she felt familiar pillow soft lips press against her sensitive bundle of nerves. Numerous moans and pants rolled down her swollen lips, her body shivered as the shocks of pleasure ran through her nerves. Pleased with her responsiveness, Leon hummed in delight; the vibration of his voice sent a new, stronger wave of pleasure that had her head rolling back and shamelessly moaning his name.

“You know..” He trailed off, (Y/N) practically felt his words against her pussy as her head was too clouded with the obscene delight of the situation, she found herself in, to be able to hear him properly. “As much as I like to hear your pretty sounds.” He spoke in between quick licks, making sure to not deprive her of the sensation that had her in the state of trance; his slick covered hand traveled up her body. “You’ll have to be quiet. Could you do that for me? I wouldn’t want anyone to crash our party.” She nodded eagerly, obliging without hesitation.

“Good.” Reaching her face, he prompted his index and middle fingers on her bottom lip. She darted the pads of his digits with her tongue, tasting herself off of him. Cautiously, Leon pressed his fingers against her hot tongue; he chuckled once she took them in her mouth. Her- now muffled- moans tingled his ears as he licked, kissed and sucked on her clit; he was almost out of breath, yet he kept going, rubbing circles on the place where his lips used to be every time he pulled back to catch his breath. Taking a glimpse of her, he noticed her eyes shut tight, sparkling droplets of tears had formed underneath the curtain of lashes, saliva spilled from the corners of her mouth and down his hand; the sight alone was enough to get Leon on edge if he wasn’t already, the growing excitement- restrained in his pants- made itself known as he was suddenly aware of the almost painful friction of the fabric of his gear rubbing against his hardened cock.

Pulling away, Leon took a deep breath in, in a failed attempt to ground himself as he took a hold of his throbbing dick through the fabric of his pants. (Y/N) whined at the lack of attention; stealing a glance of him, she saw him undoing his pants and eagerly stroking himself. Smug grin curled the corners of her mouth at the sight of him so lost in his own pleasure- the few moments he promised himself to calm himself down had turned into a minute, during which she carefully watched him all the while toying with her neglected clit herself.

A sequence of soft moans coming from the both of them composed a titillating melody that echoed across the empty space, breaking the dead silence of the lonely night. Leon’s eyes peeled open only to be met with the exquisite view of (Y/N); her fingers tirelessly pumped her hole, desperately trying to compensate for the pleasure he deprived her from, though seemingly with no effect. Stroking himself, he observed her- almost pathetic- striving to reach the pleasure she so desired. To him she looked adorable; her eyes were shut tight, her mouth agape with his name overtly rolling down her plump lips, creeks of tears traced paths along her cheeks. It took him all the willpower within him not to cum at the sight alone, and that’s when he decided he’s had enough of the foreplay.

Standing up, Leon took a hold of her legs; instinctively, she wrapped her limbs around his hips, bringing him closer to the point where she felt the weight of his cock, pressing against her lower tummy just mere inches away from her aching core. His darkened gaze bore into hers as he prompted his dick at the entrance of her dripping hole. The pad of his calloused thumb caressed her cheekbone, (Y/N) leaned into the touch as his hefty palm cupped her face, locking her gaze with his.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” He sounded serious, hesitant even, as if he wasn’t sure if it all wasn’t just another dream.

“Thought you wouldn’t ask.” She earned a deep chuckle from the man, which in return caused a tingle to form in her stomach; in return she smiled, pleased with able to make him laugh- genuinely. It almost felt awarding to be the reason behind his melodic laughter and charming smile- and god was she enamored by it.

“Hold tight.” Leon whispered in her ear, causing the tiny hairs on her neck to rise and bumps to cover the entirety of her exposed skin. Excitement rushed through her veins at the feeling of his hands caressing her hips and thighs before taking a hold of them; Leon glanced at (Y/N), silently asking for permission to grant them pleasure they both were yearning for. She kissed him as a form of a wordless sign of approval; her hands wrapped around his neck with her fingers tangling in his dirty blond locks, her nails lightly scratched his scalp as her grip on him tightened and loosened. Her breath hitched, her mouth fell open, a yelp escaped past her lips as the sudden, bittersweet feeling of being filled ripped through her core. Leon stood still, giving her time to adjust to the grith and length of him.

“Did I hurt you?” Concern was audible in his voice; his forehead pressed against hers. She shook her head no, giving him the relief needed for him to push all the way in. His lips pressed against hers, drowning the moans with his tongue that twirled with hers. Slowly, he pulled all the way out and glid the tip across her slit up to her neglected clit; in response, her body jolted and she whined at his teasing movements. Luckily for (Y/N), he soon pushed back in, instantly hitting a spot that had her seeing stars. Consistently thrusting in and out, Leon set a steady pace equally pleasurable for the both of them.

Gradually, her moans and groans grew more frequent and louder; her nails dug into his fair skin once again, leaving behind crescent marks on it. Biting at her bottom lip, Leon attempted to silence her sounds as they were too distracting for him to keep an eye out for any intruders- not that he really was able to do so. Quite the opposite, she groaned and let out a high-pitched moan as the tip of his cock hit her sweet spot. Once more, Leon kissed her; his hands groped her ass, kneading the flesh all the while bringing her hips flush against his, making it easier for him to continuously hit the places that had her squirm- and so he did. She was completely melted under his touch, eyes rolled to the back of her skull as if she was haunted by some diabolic entity, messy (H/C) strands stuck to her sweaty forehead, her entire body bounced at the impact of his merciless thrusts. His pace was quite rough, yet (Y/N) wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leon’s muscles tensed, his vision got blurry as the only thing he could sense was the pleasure, threatening to unfold and her sweet voice on his lips. Her velvety folds hugged him so perfectly and her juices generously coated his cock, making for the erotic melody of wet sounds and the ones of skin slapping skin with each of his rough thrusts. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer and nor could (Y/N). Her body jolted, her grip on him grew even tighter, her back arched off the cold wall she was pressed against under the impact of his body that pinned her. She pulled away from his greedy mouth, gasping for air; pulling on his hair. Near his earlobe, she whispered his name continuously akin to a mantra, her lips brushed against his ear, until a single, loud moan ripped from deep within her throat. Her vision got blurry as the wave of pleasure finally washed over her, unraveling the coil that had formed in her tummy. Though Leon kept going, pushing in and out in pursuit of his own high; her sweet sounds, tingling his ears, brought him dangerously close to his high sooner than he anticipated and the clench of her plush walls around him was enough to send him over the edge. Hot loads of cum coated her pussy. (Y/N) burned in overstimulation as he kept thrusting, riding out both of their highs until his thrust got sloppy and he slowed his pace.

For a few moments, that felt like eternity, the two stayed intertwined, catching their breaths as they came down from their orgasms. Glancing at each other through hooded, drunken eyes the two chuckled in disbelief, the pure joy in their laughter resonated across the room. Gently, Leon tucked a strand of hair that fell in her face, the tiny gesture so warming and full of affection.

“Why haven’t we done this earlier?” She panted; the breath flowed through her burning lungs.

“Well, I’ve been trying to get in your pants since the day I saw you.” Leon winked at her.

“How romantic.” She playfully hit him as she got on her still wobbly legs.

“We should have a round two. Once we get out of this mess.”

“Yeah, but first we gotta clean our mess.” She got on her still wobbly legs and glanced at the poor table that had turned into a pond of their mixed bodily liquids.

“Sadler must have maids or something.” Leon tsked.

“Unless they are brainless creatures by now.” The two of them giggled, still intoxicated from the aftershocks of their highs.