#<- alright if i ever draw them again this is the tag

[forlornmelody]

Icarus & The Sun

Rating: Mature (Things get hot and heavy but no actual smut)

Fandom: Good Omens

Ship: Crowley/Aziraphale

Summary:  My take on the 1941 kiss, or is it?

Note: Mind the tags, will you? This ain't your mum's 1941 kiss.

-----

“There must be something I can do for you in return?” Surely the angel has realized by now how ridiculous he seems when he looks at Crowley like that. 

“Forget it, will you?” If Crowley were any other demon, he’d walk all over him. “Right.” Crowley clears his throat shifting the conversation and the Bentley to safer places. Aziraphale would be scandalized if he had any idea of what he was offering. “Spot of business to do–”

“Have you ever wondered what it was like?”

The Bentley jerks to a stop. A bomb nearly falls on them but Crowley whisks it out of existence with an automatic wave of his hand. He’s too focused on the white knuckles of his other hand to pay attention to much else. ‘Lot going on. That’s why he’s not hearing the angel right. Right? “What?”

Aziraphale giggles girlishly, only to swallow it with a cough. “I mean. They do it all the time. The humans, I mean.”

Bloody hell, Angel. “Do what?” Crowley dares to glance at the angel, praying-well, not praying exactly –that the shadow of his sunglasses hide where his gaze is pointing. No. Aziraphale’s not blushing. It’s the fiery glow of London’s streets. Yeah. That’s it. 

The angel nudges the Bentley into park. And then his fingers ghost across Crowley’s once free hand. “Touch each other.”

Aziraphale’s fingertips are as soft as the whisper of an owl’s feathers. They light a spark on the back of Crowley’s hand–one that travels up his spine and back down. He forgets to breathe. 

“You alright, Crowley?” Aziraphale starts to pull his hand away, before Crowley grabs onto it for dear life. 

“Don’t stop,” Crowley chokes out, squeezing Aziraphale’s fingers between his own. Dear Satan, if the other demons saw him now. 

His angel smiles as bright as the sun. He clears his throat, glancing down at the hand still clutched between Crowley’s and the demon lets go as if he had been holding onto a hot iron. “Thank you,” Aziraphale says with the softest chuckle. With a boldness that always catches Crowley by surprise, he grazes those finger tips across his hand again, but he goes farther this time, letting them fly up inside Crowley’s jacket, stilling as his palm finds his beating heart. The angel lets out a soft gasp, his finger tip matching the rhythm that hammers inside Crowley's chest. His lips stay parted, and Crowley’s tongue darts out of his mouth ever so slightly, as if he could taste the angel from here. “You’re so warm.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Crowley means it as a joke, but it comes out in a desperate rasp. Clearly no one who has touched a demon has ever actually said they were cold hearted. Has…has any other demon been touched like this? 

Aziraphale’s fingers brush the satin of Crowley’s shirt, and one finger grazes the space between two buttons, just barely touching his skin. Something inside Crowley snaps. He scoops up the angel’s hand, drawing it up to his lips to kiss. His eyes watch Aziraphale for a reaction, any reaction. The angel says nothing, though that blush– definitely a blush –spreads across his round cheeks. 

“Angel…” Crowley whispers, half-begging, half-warning.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s bright eyes search his own, his smile growing wider and wider…

The demon feels as if his body is being pulled through the center of the universe. With a trembling hand, Crowley dares to brush his fingers along the angel’s jaw. “Aziraphale,” he whispers.

Crowley isn’t sure who kisses who first—only that he would dare to never breathe again if that meant he could keep kissing him. Aziraphale presses deeper, drinking the demon in the same way he did his first goblet of wine—all haste and hunger, and Crowley can’t bear to tell him to slow down. That angel can’t decide on where to keep his hands, and so they wander from winding underneath Crowley's hat to grasp at his hair–to his shoulders, his back, his arms…Grinning against Crowley’s mouth, Aziraphale runs his fingers innocently…or perhaps not, to Crowley’s belt. 

Finally, Aziraphale pulls away from kissing Crowley, biting his swollen lip. Crowley didn’t even think about biting. Oh how he wants to now….”Is this alright?” The angel tugs on Crowley’s belt ever so slightly. Funny how Crowley hadn’t noticed how tight his pants had become. 

“Yes . ”  

Aziraphale’s fingers fumble as he works on the buckle, and Crowley is half-tempted to wrench his hands out of the way to speed things up but his knuckles feel oh so wonderful against his crotch–the belt gets tossed into the backseat. The angels fingers wander into Crowley’s pants–

Crowley’s eyes fly open. He sits up, shivering in his own sweat. Even the heat of his flat can’t match that of an angel’s touch. Bumping into his desk, Crowley remembers the day he watched the new archangel leave. How he waited for what felt like an eternity for Aziraphale to change his mind-to step out of that elevator with a laugh “Oh, Crowley, I didn’t mean it!” But that moment didn’t come. 

Does Aziraphale dream of him? Does he sleep? Does Aziraphale ever get the chance to sleep? 

Wandering into the atrium, Crowley gazes up at the sky. 

[awearywritersworld]

megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader

tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.

ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.

gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"

gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"

gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"

honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?

he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?

apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.

he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.

while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.

his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.

and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.

he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—

"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.

while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"

oh.

gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.

megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.

"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."

gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.

"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.

your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.

"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"

"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.

the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.

you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.

he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.

"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."

this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.

gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.

"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"

just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.

"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"

nice.

"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.

you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.

megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"

"shut it, kid."

[rqnarok]

you cannot tell me that old man!logan doesn’t have a daddy kink…

cws/tags: sexual content. oldman!logan. mild daddy kink. subspaces. dd/lg undertones. crying. dom!logan.

Old man Logan would be so into daddy kink; the name rolls off his tongue easily—“So good for Daddy, sweetheart.” 

He just can’t help it when you accidentally call him by that name while you were reaching your high. He is the one who continuously brings it up; never letting go of it. Because he fucking loves it.

“Yeah’ that’s it, kid. There ya’ go.” Logan murmurs endless praises as you try to sink down on his large girth. Calloused hands are rubbing circles on the skin on your tummy, guiding you down and down, “Fuck. Ya’ feel me here, kiddo?” 

You only respond to his question in a whimper, closing your eyes and biting your lips as you try to take more of him. The sight of his pretty baby fucked out on his lap is the most adorable thing he has ever witnessed, “Wanna be good for dada, huh?” His mouth trails soft kisses on your warm cheeks and temple.

“Can you speak, baby?” To let him know you’re alright, you lightly bob your head as you place your hands on his shoulders to support your body and raise yourself so only his tip remains—before dropping down again—way deep this time, you’re sure you got all of him inside you and you gained some confidence.

Logan lets out a strangled grunt in surprise, “Hey, take it easy, little bug. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” He draws his palms on your back to cling you closer to his chest.

Slowly but surely, you rest your heavy head on his neck and rub your own head there to feel his untrimmed greying beard. You’ve earned your motivation again.

“I can do it, Daddy.” You plea to him, “Can’ do it. ‘M a big girl.” 

He tilts his head to lovingly scold you, “Don’t hurt yourself, little one.” Logan’s tired sugary smile only remains until you’ve managed to lift yourself upwards—your velvet walls wrap so deliciously tight around him and making him shut his eyes and inhale sharply, “F-fuck.”

“‘M a big girl!” You repeat as you bounce irregularly—feeling like you’ve overtaken him and everything else.

Well…not for long. 

Because after around five more times going up and down on him, you could feel yourself getting exhausted. Your eyes barely open up as you squeak a high-pitched whine—making grabby hands at him to get his attention. 

To get Daddy’s attention. 

“Ah- n-need help, Daddy.” You choke out, opening your eyes slightly to see that he’s already looking - observing you.

“Hm?” Logan hums as he brings his fingers to pinch at your soft cheeks, “Thought you’re a big girl now, baby?” His thumb rests just outside of your spit-licked mouth. Earning more humming approvals from the older man when you willingly open your lips and sucks it inside. 

“Wha’dya need Daddy’s help for if you’re a big girl?” He paraphrased his question again—his palm roaming below your breast before kneading each one of them. 

Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you’re feeling the stretch, “Daddy—” and the sting in your dripping pussy as an effect of your previous actions, “I-I thought I could do it…”

“What’d Daddy say?” Oh, you know you’re in trouble because he’s scolding you now. For not listening to him and to play-act in front of him. 

“‘M sorry!” You cannot help but cry out then wrap your arms around his neck, “Was just so excited, Daddy—need you so bad!” 

Logan coos your figure by threading his big hands through your hair, shushing you hiccuped sobs down, “Shh,”

After hearing your breath steadying, he ruts his hips up against yours. Circling and thrusting to your tight heat as you rest your entire body weight onto him. You tremble in his arms as you hear skin-meet-skin slapping sounds echoing through your shared bedroom. Fully giving yourself to fall in his embrace. 

“Ya’ see? Y’re just a little girl, baby. Daddy’s little girl.”  

You nod and make out a confirmation whimper. Before you register it, he starts to move you too. 

Yeah, you feel way much better like this.

Being Daddy’s little girl and letting him have all the control there is.

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: sexual themes !! but eek another cliffhanger i fear yall are gonna eat me alive

prev next

authors note: i havent slept and its 8am because ive been writing this for U GUYS 😞 let me know if u would like to be part of the tag list tho thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

drew jolts awake, his heart racing from whatever dream he’s already forgotten. he blinks against the early light streaming through the curtains, his eyes squinting as he scans the room. instinctively, his hand reaches for your side of the bed, but it’s empty.

“y/n?” he murmurs, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. his brain tries to catch up to his surroundings, still sluggish from sleep.

just as he’s about to throw the covers off and go looking for you, the door creaks open. there you are, balancing a tray in your hands with a small but proud grin on your face. his lips curl into an instant smile at the sight of you, and it’s relief that washes over him.

“good morning,” you draw out playfully, your voice teasing as you approach the bed. drew watches, amusement in his eyes.

“what’s all this?” he asks, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes but already intrigued by the spread.

you gesture to the tray proudly, listing off the items you’ve prepared. “made us both some eggs, bacon, toast . . . oh, and fresh fruit,” you say, pointing at the colorful array of berries on the side. “figured i’d bring it to you since you were still sleeping.”

he chuckles, sitting up properly and glancing over at the tray with a grin. “so did the others get the same royal treatment?” he jokes, looking up at you with raised eyebrows.

“obviously.” you nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “the girls and i were up early making breakfast for everyone. the guys are already up and eating, but i thought I’d bring yours here. you know, special delivery.”

he shakes his head, still smiling as he takes it all in. “so, breakfast in bed? don’t mind if i do.”

“shut up,” you say as you crawl onto the bed carefully, setting the tray between you both.

as you settle beside him, drew is already popping a blueberry into his mouth. he chews thoughtfully, an amused look crossing his face. “you know,” he says, pausing to finish his bite before continuing, “you never did stuff like this when we were together.”

you glance at him, casual as ever. “we were always too busy,” you reply nonchalantly, reaching for a piece of bacon. “i don’t think we ever really had time to eat breakfast together in the mornings, or whatever.”

it’s such an offhanded comment, one you barely think twice about, but drew does. his fork hovers mid-air as your words sink in. he realizes how right you are—there was always something else, always a rush to be somewhere or do something. sure, you spent time together, but not like this. not with simple, meaningful moments that could’ve mattered.

his thoughts flicker back to the night before, to the messages he saw on his phone. that nagging feeling from last night returns, tugging at him. he quickly glances over to the nightstand, his head whipping around so fast that it draws your attention immediately.

you laugh, startled by his sudden movement. “dude, are you alright?” there’s amusement in your voice, but you look at him with mild concern.

he blinks, pulling himself together, and his heart beats a little faster. “yeah, yeah, i’m fine,” he replies quickly, trying to shake off the tension that suddenly crept in. he flashes a quick smile, picking up his fork again and taking another bite. “just thought i, like . . . misplaced my phone or something.”

you raise a brow at him but let it slide, not thinking much of it as you continue eating.

drew takes a bite of the eggs, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets out an involuntary moan. his hand flies to his mouth, covering it as he starts to laugh, almost embarrassed by how dramatic his reaction is. “oh my god . . .” he mumbles, shaking his head like he can’t believe it.

you look over at him, confused but amused by his reaction. “what?” you ask, smiling, not quite getting what’s so funny.

he finishes chewing, still grinning, and gestures at the eggs with his fork. “these. i know it has to be you who made the eggs.”

you raise an eyebrow, genuinely puzzled. “what do you mean?”

“there’s just something about the way you make them,” he explains, his voice sincere. “i don’t know what it is, but it’s like i could pick your eggs out of a million different versions. they’re always so . . . perfect. they melt in my mouth every time.”

you laugh, slightly bashful but clearly appreciating the compliment. “whatever,” you say, though you’re smiling. “they’re just eggs.”

he shakes his head, still smiling back at you. “no you’ve got, like, the magic touch or something.”

curious now, you take a bite of your own eggs, chewing thoughtfully before pausing. you look over at him, nodding slowly in agreement.“you’re right. these are good.”

drew laughs at your half-joking realization, and you can’t help but join in. the moment feels light and easy, like a glimpse of what things used to be, even if it’s just for a second. “told you,” he teases, leaning into you as he takes another bite.

you grin, leaning back into him. “okay, fine, maybe i do have a magic touch.”

the laughter fades, leaving a comfortable silence as you take another bite of your breakfast. it’s easy, almost natural, how quickly you fall into this rhythm—like no time has passed. drew shifts beside you, the subtle change in his posture drawing your attention.

he clears his throat, looking over at you. “thanks . . . by the way,” he says, and you look at him as he gestures to the food. “for breakfast. this is really nice.”

you give him a small smile, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “just don’t get too used to it.”

you’re laughing and singing songs with the girls as you make your way down to the beach. you’re only really carrying your towel with you as you skip down to an open spot. libby’s protecting her large floppy hat as she runs there with you, shouting that you all should make camp here.

you look behind you and wait for the others. you spot drew immediately as he carries the bluetooth speaker in one hand but on his opposite shoulder is the large tote bag you gave him earlier. he posed for you when you said he looked like a mother.

“hurry, hurry, hurry!” you say, mainly to drew, because he has the groups shared essentials. “i can literally feel my skin aging the longer you guys take.”

roman trudges through the sand, clearly not enjoying the trek, even though it’s better than if they didn’t stay at a beach house like they are now. “you know, if you’re so concerned about your skin aging, maybe you should’ve thought about that before today,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

gia grimaces at how stupid he is. “or maybe you should’ve thought about showering before leaving the house, babe,” she says, then continues walking over until she reaches you and libby.

roman stops in his tracks, feigning offense. “i’m literally holding your second bag to the beach. like who even does that?” he gestures dramatically to the extra tote slung over his shoulder.

theo comes up from behind and pats his shoulder to say that it’s okay as he passes by, so roman mumbles something under his breath as he continues.

eventually, you’re stripping down to your bikini as you watch the waves. you unbutton your shorts and pull them down, shimmying out of them before tossing them onto your towel that’s already been laid out.

you pull your hair away from your face as you look toward the group. “is anyone going in the water?” you ask them, but there’s several no’s and not yet’s that make you frown.

“i’ll go in later maybe,” theo volunteers for you. “i just came down here to bring the chairs and set my towel down but i still need to cook the hotdogs in the backyard.” he’s pointing behind him, and you groan.

“so boring,” you mumble as theo nudges oscar before they start heading back to the house to begin making late lunch already.

“y/n?” gia says as she plans on handing you the sunscreen next. she and roman have already had a turn as they share their towel together. roman looks as grumpy as ever as he rubs the sunscreen into his skin while gia sits pretty and tries to keep her hair out of her face.

you drop to your knees on your towel and shuffle forward to reach for the bottle that gia hands you, and you plant your butt back down on your towel.

drew finishes setting up the speaker for leila to play her music, and he glances over just in time to see you about to apply sunscreen. he hesitates for a moment, then clears his throat, “you want some help?”

you look up, a bit surprised but also amused. “are you volunteering?”

“maybe,” he replies, “just thought i’d help out.”

you bite your lip, considering it. “okay, but just my back, please.” you’ve already squeezed some sunscreen into your hand so you decide to spread it on your legs while he gets to work on your torso.

he steps onto your towel and crouches down behind you. as his hands glide over your skin, you can’t help but sigh in relief. “you’re kinda really good at this. i feel like i’m at a spa.”

drew grins, glancing at you. “guess i’ve picked up a few tricks over the years.”

there’s a moment of playful silence as you finish your legs, and he begins massaging the sunscreen into your shoulders. you tilt your head back a little, relishing in the feeling.

it almost feels nice to recognize the familiar hands across your skin. he’s dipping down toward your chest as he settles down to get closer, reaching around you. you make it easier by leaning back against his chest while watching his hands, making sure he’s not doing anything he shouldn’t be.

but it’s like you’re in a daze as you witness the way he rubs it into your chest, around your bikini top, and down to your waist. he knows your body well enough to know that he’ll cause goosebumps immediately, and he does.

a part of you feels guilty, like it’s almost wrong—but it is all for the plan, right? you make up the excuse for yourself as drew’s hands move back up, edging the bottom of your breasts as your breath hitches. you hear his breathing by your ear as you watch him be so careful, so cautious with where he touches you.

but before it goes any further, he pulls away, and honestly, you think it's a smart choice. you swallow down whatever you just felt as you pull yourself together, and you glance behind you as he gets up. “thanks, star,” you murmur, and you hear a faint ‘uh-huh’ as he sits back to do his own.

you make sure he’s rubbed everything in briefly before turning back to see what he’s doing. he’s already spreading sunscreen onto his arms when he catches your eye, and there’s a smile when he understands the situation.

he nods to the bottle that’s just laying on the towel, and you know what this means. that it’s alright if you want to help him too.

you take the bottle into your own hands and squeeze some out onto your palm, then crawl behind him to sit down. you work on his back for a while, and you can’t help but admire him while he can’t see you.

you notice everything. the way his back muscles flex, how he flinches the moment your hands touch him, but also the way he relaxes into your touch the second after.

he’s waiting patiently for you, and you hear him chuckle a bit after you finish, so you crawl on all fours to sit down in front of him. you give him a look, asking if he’s already done it yet, but he shakes his head.

you smile to yourself as more sunscreen lands in your palm, and you massage it into his shoulders first. he sits up straight for you as you slowly make your way down.

you can’t tell if he’s flexing his abs as a joke but you look up at him and make eye contact, just inches away, and you smile at each other. he’s stupid but it still amuses you regardless.

he leans back and holds himself up by his palms, looking up to the sun. his eyes are clamped shut as he scrunches his nose briefly.

you move your hands lower until you reach his v-line, a little underneath the hem of his shorts. you shouldn’t be going there but you do anyway. he tenses immediately when you start and you know what you’re doing—you can’t help it—but you pull away and spread the remaining sunscreen on his face to make sure he’s fully covered. you feel like a mother when you do, but ignore it.

“i appreciate it, thank you,” he says to you, and you close the sunscreen bottle and toss it back over to one of the open chairs in case anyone else needs it.

with that, you get up, looking toward the water as you adjust your bottoms. you look back at drew, “come on.”

“what?” he says out of habit, before realizing what you’re talking about. “no.”

“come on,” you say again as you walk to him and grab his arms, then his wrists, to pull him onto his feet. you know he’s willing because you’re even able to move him.

you let go of his wrists as you make your way over to the water. “let’s go! just for a bit! you can just dip your feet in.”

drew doesn’t say anything but him rolling his eyes tells you everything. he’s so sassy, but it makes you grin as you hold your hand our for him to take. he’s slow as he walks over, pretending to not want to, and you groan.

“okay then go sit back down if you don’t want t—”

you’re terrified when he starts charging at you, and you scream as you run to the water as if it’ll help you. he runs in there with you, but you’re constantly looking back and going deeper in when you see he’s still determined to catch you.

he’s pretending to be some monster as he fake growls, though it’s just his face with no round, while clawing at the water as he tries to make his way over to you.

the small waves hit your torso and your hair as it splashes up your body. it’s colder than you thought it would be, and your mouth gapes open in shock.

drew ends up catching up to you and he scoops you up with ease since you’re in the water, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you further into the ocean by your bum.

you look toward the group and see what everyone’s doing in just a brief moment—theo and oscar still gone, you see roman even heading back to the house to help probably, gia’s tanning while laying on her towel, then leila and libby are talking while on the beach chairs right beside her.

drew stops walking when you reach a good spot that won’t kill you in a wave. hopefully. but he doesn’t set you down. the water already reaches high on his torso, so he assumes it’s best not to put you down and risk an incoming wave.

you hold on tight as you look out to the horizon, and you pull away to look at him. there’s an instant smile that forms when you’re face-to-face.

“the water feels nice,” you say awkwardly. the ocean is cold against your back but any body part that touches drew’s body is warm. he’s warm. “i’m really glad you came.”

drew cocks his head to the side as he squints his eyes, “i’m pretty sure i had to. leila wanted to go to the beach today so uh . . .”

“no you fucking—” he’s laughing and you have to wait until he’s done. “you know i meant on this trip,” you tell him.

“i’m glad you came too,” drew says, and you pull him closer again, burying yourself between your arm and the side of his head, and you close your eyes as the waves push you back and forth.

hours pass, unexpectedly. you didn’t initially plan on staying there for so long—none of you do, but time just flies. you’ve eaten the hotdogs provided by the boys, which you heard some got burnt thanks to theo.

you played volleyball a bit after, boys vs girls. you wanted to sit out but leila convinced you to stay.

“don’t be such a baby, roman!” you remember gia yelling to her boyfriend from across the net, and then he was hit with the volleyball again.

now it’s nightfall. you’ve all packed up and returned to the house simultaneously to take showers. some stay to talk or build really sad sand castles out of cups from the house while others occup the showers.

“why don’t you and theo just shower together?” you remember libby asking leila as you and her laid on the chairs together while libby was on the floor with said sand castle.

leila grimaces. “washing sand out of his ass is not romantic whether you’re about to be married or not.”

now you’re all clean, dressed in your pajamas with your freshly wet hair as you sit on the floor with leila. drew is already taking his turn in the shower while you discuss the little scrapbook leila brought on the trip.

she said that she bought everything literally on day one, and she hasn’t gotten around to filling it out yet because she doesn’t know how to. she grabbed you to help and you went to your room to see what she had.

there’s different stickers, paint, flowers, glitter, possibly the entire arts and crafts store all over the floor as you two plan even the first page. she had absolutely no idea what she was doing—you’re certain that she went to the store that day and just started grabbing whatever she thought was cute, but you don’t blame her.

“i just want to show this to our kids or something when they’re our age,” leila says as she rearranges the photograph of her and theo when they first started dating, and she frowns at the memory.

“are you thinking about kids?” you ask her as you glue on a piece of paper in the corner of the page that leila insisted was aesthetic.

leila shrugs, “i mean, you know how it is. eventually, just not now. i don’t think theo and i are ready for that.”

“waking up to crying in the middle of the night,” you let her picture it herself as you scrunch your nose up, “when you already haven’t been able to sleep for days.”

“that’s the only part i’m not excited about,” leila tells you, and she pauses as she thinks about it. “besides the vomiting, the screaming, the pooping, so really i—”

“—should not have a child anytime soon,” you cut her off, and she chuckles, nudging you with her shoulder as she plays around with some of the stickers.

leila sighs after a bit and she looks around, but it’s difficult to see right away when all the stuff is on the floor. “what time is it? i feel like it’s getting late, or it’s ice cream sundae time.”

“probably the second one,” you mumble as you look around for your phone. you don’t know where it is but it clearly isn’t there. it must be in one of the tote bags downstairs, but that’s too far away. “hold on.”

you get up and carefully step over the mess you’ve created—though leila’s already collecting everything to call it a night—and approach your side of the bed. your phone isn’t there still and there’s no clock in this particular room.

you take a peek over at drew’s side of the bed. his phone is laid face down on his nightstand, almost about to fall off. you sigh as you grab it and plan on putting it safely on the nightstand after you check the time really quickly.

“it’s just 10,” you tell her.

she nods as she stuffs her bag with more supplies, muttering under her breath, “definitely sundae time.”

you’re about to put his phone down when a notification comes in. he has a million already pending but you don’t even plan on looking at them until this one comes in just now.

‘ are you seriously with her? ’

you furrow your eyebrows as you check the name.

mila?

is this his girl best friend or something?

another notification comes in right after that that you can’t ignore.

‘ i’m going to sleep. just text me tomorrow. ’

‘ please. ’

‘ i miss you. xo ’

the words blur together for a second, but the meaning behind them hits you all at once. he’s been talking to someone else this whole time, since before the plan was even made probably. you feel a twist in your stomach, but you try to steady yourself, taking a slow breath.

you weren’t expecting this, but it’s not like he owes you anything. you knew things had changed between you two, but seeing these messages—it hurts more than you thought it would.

you’ve been getting closer, laughing together, and just being there in the ocean in his embrace . . . and the whole time, someone else has been on the other side of his phone, waiting for him.

if you had known, if drew had told you he was still talking to someone, you never would’ve agreed to this plan.

you feel uncomfortable, a little betrayed, but not heartbroken. it’s not that deep—not yet. but it’s enough to make you feel like you’ve stepped into something you weren’t prepared for.

“you wanna make the sundae with me?” leila’s voice barely rips you from your thoughts as she gathers her things in her bag and stands up, waiting on you.

“what? no, i’m fine,” you tell her. “i’m probably gonna head to bed soon? i don’t know, i’m tired but i’ll let you know. i’ll probably join you, knowing me.”

she smiles at you but leaves it at that, and leaves the room, leaves your thoughts to grow bigger and louder now that you’re alone.

you don’t check any more of his messages, respecting enough of his privacy not to dig. the weight of those few words heavy in the air as you switch his phone off and set it back down on the nightstand.

i miss you. xo

you shake your head, trying to push the thoughts away. this was supposed to be for your friends, just a harmless plan to avoid awkward questions. that’s all. but now, you’re starting to wonder if there’s more going on here than you realized.

this wasn’t part of the plan.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @cl4uus @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi

[tasteleeknow]

LIVING IN THE RUINS

minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.

“Excuse me?”

You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 

She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 

He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 

“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 

“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 

Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 

The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 

Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 

She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.

The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’

Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 

You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 

The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 

—

Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 

You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 

He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 

“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 

“God, you scared me.” 

It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 

You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 

You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 

The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 

You loved him. 

It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 

It falls. 

You’re pathetic without it. 

All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 

Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 

It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 

But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 

That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 

What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 

Not an option. 

“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 

You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 

“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 

He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 

“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 

You shake your head. 

His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 

“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 

Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 

“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 

They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 

“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 

“Not really.” 

His eyebrows pull together. 

“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 

“Tell me.” 

“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 

His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 

You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 

“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 

Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 

He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 

The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 

His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—

“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 

You nod dumbly.

He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 

He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 

“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“I—” 

“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 

His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 

Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 

“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.

“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 

When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.

[prettyboykatsuki]

touya 🥰🥰

✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, some titty worship, crassness from touya, vague but established relationships, fucking against a wall, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.6k

✮ a/n ; i have no clue how to write this guy im sorry. i tried my best though

Touya has a tell when he lies.

You'd never tell him about it. The minute he becomes aware is the minute he stops—and the minute he stops is the minute it makes reading him harder than it needs to be.

(You're good at reading Touya though even without the help. You've grown accustom to reading between the lines after all these years spent together. If you hadn't, you doubt the two of you to be together.

Understanding when whatever means please stay and when you're alright means i love you are necessities. The life line to the fragile relationship you call lovers)

It's not every time he lies. It's only when he has something he's embarrassed telling you and when all attempts at shamelessness result in obvious failure.

You try not to let it show your excitement on your face. He'll get pissed at you. He has a habit of being sulky when he's being teased.

You pull back from a kiss, breathless. You smile at him lopsidedly, fingers around the collar of his jacket as his hand sneaks up underneath your shirt. Calloused skin draws along your belly, up your sides and make you shiver.

Touya is always intense but there's something different today. His hand as your leg hitched up and he's grinding into you with such obvious fervor that it's making it hard to breathe. He chases your mouth the minute you pull away, frowning hard as you bite back a smile.

"What."

You're trying to contain yourself. Really. "Did you... miss me, Touya?"

It's there. His tell. A hand on the back of his neck and a look to his left. It happens quickly, gone as just soon as you see it. "Fuck no," And then as if to prove a point. "My dick might've, I guess."

He goes into kiss you again and you appease him and allow it. You let him touch you to his hearts content and keep your amusement to yourself at the obvious desperation. Sex is the one place Touya can't hide from what he wants, though he very often tries anyway.

He's practically frantic as he pushes you further against the wall. His mouth moves along your neck with searing intensity. He's handsy. Grabbing, biting, sucking - he leaves marks where he wouldn't care to normally, all over your neck. Your core is syrupy and hot, like spun sugar melting over the flame of Touya's longing.

He moves quickly, letting your leg down in process. Unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down to your thighs before doing the same for himself. You haven't moved from the door away but it's obvious Touya has no intent of doing so either, until he makes you cum at least once.

"Touch me," He voices it as a demand despite himself. Despite the obvious lust in his voice and the way he's looking at you. You wonder if he's self-aware about the face he makes when he's needy. "C'mon. 's rude to keep me waiting."

So you do. Pushed up against a wall with nothing but body heat like two teenagers all over again - you cup his hard cock, delighting in the way he shivers at the touch and moans into your mouth. You stroke him from in front and let him touch you in return. He strokes your clit at first but moves on quickly to fingering you, slipping further into your panties without taking them off. He likes how the sticky fabric clings to his scarred hands.

(You've learned over the years that Touya likes the mess. He likes when there's evidence of your intimacy in all the places you've ever fucked. Some of it is tried and true perversion.

But like the marks he leaves on your sternum and the bruises on your hips from his hold - you think that Touya likes lingering in your life in whatever way he can.)

"You're going so fast," You mumble. He pauses. Pouting, he goes on anyway. It's not like you told him to stop.

"Isn't it fine? You're already so fucking wet,"

You can feel yourself throb as Touya fucks his fingers into you. He starts with one, but there's not any resistance. Aching, practically pulsing with need, a moan slips past your lips at the sudden thrusting. He slows a little.

"Show me your tits,"

You roll your eyes but you listen anyway, pushing your shirt and bra up haphazardly. You figure he just wants to see them - but your mind changes when trails kisses down your neck and wraps his mouth around your nipples wordlessly. Your spine arches into the touch, a wave of arousal slicking Touya's finger. He adds a second after that, free hand holding the small of your spine as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, making sure to pay attention to each one for a little.

He opens you slowly, stretching you until it's easy to pump his two fingers in and out.

He stares at you with unbreaking eye contact while he fucks your pussy open. It's unnecessarily intense in a way that you find on brand. You stare back unsure of what else to do, a fucked out expression definitely being reflected black in blue irises.

It's a beat after that he pulls away from you. You whine at the loss of contact but Touya swallows the sound with a kiss. His nose nudges your jaw, hot and sensitive.

"Turn around," He hums it against your throat. "I think you can take me,"

He's going too fast, you think again. He likes to draw everything out so much more. Bully you into begging for him, if the mood strikes him. At the very least he likes to drag you into his own depths and feel so needy.

You oblige him by turning around and placing your hands on the wall, cheek pressed against the cool surface. He groans, a sharp noise slipping past your lips as the familiar weight and length of his cock push against the curves of your ass.

And then he gets too close to you. Tucks his chin against your shoulder and drops his weight over your back. He's always close to you but it's rare his clinging is so open as it is now. You decide not to say anything, pushing yourself back like an invitation. He chuckles, the sound is low - the reverb adding to your wetness and making your arousal worse.

"Three week long stake-out is fuckin' ridiculous," He presses a bite to your neck. "What the hell could you need to stake out for three weeks."

You read between the lines. I missed you. You laugh.

"Dunno. Glad to be back," You reply to him in his own language. Missed you too.

There's a brief moment of pause, the ghost of a smile on your back as you feel the familiar stretch of Touya's cock against your cunt. Your hole stretches, flutters at the euphoric sensation. Your stomach flips with a restless wanting as you try not to shove yourself all the way back on his dick too quickly. He groans against your shoulder. "Perfect fucking pussy,"

"You feel so good," You whimper in reply.

"Yeah?" He whispers it against your neck as one hand holds your waist, the other snaking around to toy with your clit as he pushes into your warm, wet heat. "Tell me about it."

"Fuck, Touya,"

His dick twitches at the sound of you moaning his name. You can feel him inside of you, so deep. Your eyes flutter as fullness knocks all the air out of your lungs. He's all in your stomach. Your breatch catches and hitches with each inch he manages to slide into you.

The sensation of orgasm dulls before it crescendos back up again. Somewhere in between that, Touya moves. It's slow at first, a shallow rock of hips before he paces himself and really starts to fuck you.

The way Touya fucks you is a little like him - noisy and invasive, a hard thrust of his hips that makes your ass recoil in reply from the sheer force. You gasp, feeling lightheaded from the intensity. He's deep, too deep - all the way up into your throat. His balls slap up against your clit every now and again and there's not any real delicacy to it, though there is so much precision.

He would never voice it aloud but he prides himself on knowing your body. Knows it inside it and out. Knows all the spots and angles that getting your sweet little cunt soaking with cum, knows how to make you want him.

He always fucks you good, and maybe it's the distance - but god, today he fucks you dizzy. Your voice keeps slipping with the clap of each thrust and you can barely keep yourself upright, knees threatening to go weak on each one. The only thing keeping you upright is Touya's cock spearing into you. Over and over until you feel it build in your gut again.

"Gonna cum," You barely make the words out. "Fuck, Touya,"

"That's it," He huffs, punctuating his words with a thrust. "Say my name. Say my fucking name when you cum for me,"

You pretend not to notice the emphasis on it being for him. You pretend not to hear the shake in his voice, how shattered he sounds with each word like he wants it as much as you.

Maybe more. You'll never tell Touya that part of the reason you cum so fucking hard is because he sounds so fucking wanting when he asks you to cum. Like falling from heaven, your orgasm drags you down to Earth and makes your whole body shake on impact. Your pussy spasms hard around his cock, thighs trembling and toes curling in your shoes at you let it all out.

Touya encourages you with a few sloppy thrusts and the intimacy of your name on his lips, making you ride the high over first before he follows suit. You feel him cum in you and sigh internally knowing you'll need contraception.

"Don't go on such long fucking stake-outs," He tells you. You laugh.

"Okay. I won't."

"We're not done fucking, either."

You laugh a little louder at that and turn around to kiss him over your shoulder. You smile when he leans into so easily "Uh-huh. Sure."

[tomahachi12]

What's the story behind your drone-sona? Since she has the Cabin Fever tag, I was curious what's the story behind her.

BUCKLE UP, IT'S A LONG ONE (some of this is headcanon crap, so not all info would be show accurate)

Toma (012) was a just regular worker drone working within the offices of the JCJenson Mining Facility.

The area of the offices she worked in had drones split into small groups to complete larger projects. She was part of the group which included Nori (002), Yeva (048) and Alice (017) (I LOVE THEM LEAVE ME ALONE).

She was usually tasked with taking paperwork back and forth between her group to turn in or for them to work on, something she was.. pretty bad at.

Because of Nori's shenanigans, their group often got in trouble with the humans.

At some point, Drones began to be selected from a lottery pool to be transferred to the lower levels of the facility. At first, the Humans would play this off as a "promotion" of sorts in order to keep the drones from becoming suspicious of their intentions and keep their minds at ease.

As time went on, the humans dropped the façade and the drones began to fear these selections, given that the chosen drones were never seen or heard from again after being selected.

Eventually, Toma's ID was drawn as the next to go. (she was chosen first out of their group, next was Alice, then Yeva and Nori was the last)

Toma was taken down the Cabin Fever Labs to be used in the "Solver" experiments.

When she was infected with the Solver Program, it took her over instantly. She was quickly given an early version of the patch (1.5.8) before causing too much damage.

The effect of the Solver's code on her body left her lethargic and forgetful. Since she was patched early, she cannot use the solver, but still suffers from it's effects; occasional possession, the need to consume oil, ect..

Not being able to provide much information for their research, the humans mostly kept her bound in her locker. Sometimes they even forgot she was in there.

Before the core collapse, she was able to escape her chains and wondered around the mines for a minute before the eventual implosion.

She was blown out the facility and somehow managed to survive, not only the blast, but even the crash back down to the planet. Though it knocked her offline for a time, causing anyone that found her to think she was dead.

RIP Toma lol

After she eventually woke up, she stayed put for a few months, hiding out in the outer buildings of the facility until she was found by another worker drone.

This drone invited Toma to join his colony, Outpost 9. She agreed and followed him to the base (wow Toma, ever heard of stranger danger gdamn..)

Toma was welcomed in this colony and she lived there for several years, learning how to live a life free from human-control. She was even able to pick up an old hobby she was never allowed to do back at the offices, drawing.

The nightmares gave her plenty to draw anyway.

Eventually, it all went to shit when the Murder Drones showed up, popped that base open like a soda can, and killed everyone inside.

Toma's solver kept her hidden long enough her to escape unnoticed. She needed somewhere to go and began to make her way toward the city she saw in the distance.

( oh hi, Y )

It took a while but she made it to the City only to find, you guessed it, more Murder Drones. She somehow managed to dodge them as well and found her way to some very large doors that resembled the ones back at her old colony. She frantically banged on the doors, shouting for help as she Murder Drones closed in on her.

The doors suddenly cracked open and a hand reached out, grabbing hold of Toma's coat and pulled her inside before slamming shut again.

She was met by a group of drones all sitting around a table, seemingly playing cards. The drone that pulled her in helped her up to her feet. After checking if she was alright, he introduced himself as "Khan" the apparent leader of this colony. Outpost 3.

She was welcomed in` just as warmly as she was in her last colony, and settled in easily, but soon found this colony was quite.. different from her old one. There were.. "kids" running around, and "babies" and... "teenagers".. Some drones were even married.

She also found out that every adult drones had to contribute to their society as well, unless they were raising children. Everyone had a job, and Toma was expected to have one as well.

She decided to join the Worker Defense Force, mostly as "watchman". She was tasked with doing patrols around the colony, looking out for any potential problems or weak points that could cause a breach.

She was pretty bad at it since she kept falling asleep while on patrol or forgetting where she was suppose to be.

The others were very forgiving toward her, though, but they figured she needed a different job.

After taking note of her interest in art, she was given the job as the new Art Teacher for the school.

Now if only she could stop falling asleep in class..

TL;DR/I only looked at the pretty pictures:

Toma was part of the Solver Experiments and now lives at Outpost 3 as the resident dumbass Art Teacher.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 13

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: I had this pistachio cake and it was so good. I didn't know what else to put here but yum.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’re shaking, barely able to keep your legs from collapsing beneath you. Even with Bucky’s arm around you, you’re weak. His confidence makes you feel even smaller; reminds you of who and what you really are. You’re not this. You’re not arm candy. You’re not some gorgeous supermodel. You’re just you. 

As you get to the end of the hall, you face the elevator and wait. His large hand squeezes your hip and he draws you even closer. He surprises you with a peck on your head. A thrill flows through you. 

“I’m the luckiest guy in this casino, baby,” he purrs and urges you through the doors as they open. 

You gulp and lean back into his arm as you step on, the transparent walls peering down on the drop. You try not to look and put your hand over his. You cling to his fingers and close your eyes, dizzy from the descent. 

“Ah, I forgot, doll,” he holds you even snugger, “Don’t worry, I got you. You stay close to me, alright?” 

“Okay,” you wisp out as the motion of the elevator adds to your displacement. 

When at last you reach the bottom, you nearly wriggle right out of his hold. He keeps you firmly against him and struts off with you at his side. He releases you only to hook his arm through yours. You cling to him if only to keep from tripping in the heels. 

You look down at yourself, recalling your attire as you pass a mirrored wall. You barely recognise the woman and yet it’s you. The make-up isn’t too heavy, your hair is perfectly done, and despite your frightened expression, you look good. Better than ever. Well, anything is an improvement over your typical aesthetic. 

You pass through the hotel lobby into the main room of the casino. The ringing of machines and flashing lights stun you. He stops with you and raises his chin proudly. To him, it’s just another night. For you, it’s a night you won’t ever forget; one you’ll never know again. 

“All of this is ours, doll,” he says. You wince at that word; ‘ours’. It’s a fantasy, he knows it. It must be what he tells all his women. 

You can only let a jitter shake you. He continues on and you follow. The chaos of the casino has you senseless. You drift through like his shadow as he pulls you along.  

Yet, you notice that you are not unseen. You feel the eyes all around you, you see them. Necks crane, bodies twists, and lips whisper. You’re overly aware that they’re watching you. No, they’re watching him. 

You feel ice form a shell over you. You numb yourself to it all as best you can. If you let yourself feel the storm brewing inside you, it will surely blow you over.  

Bucky stops you and winks at you. He reaches to rub your hand on his forearm and gives a squeeze, “relax. I got you. You trust me, don’t you?” 

You exhale and nod, “yes.” 

“Alright, then, doll,” he pulls his arm back and puts his hand on the small of your back, “let’s go.” 

He walks you along, a casual pace. The looks continue. People acknowledge him as he passes, the bartender calls him sir and several other staff. He approaches a table and you steel yourself nervously. Men in suits chuckle loudly as dice are thrown against the trim. 

“Stark,” Barnes stops beside a man with grey patches at his temple, “you didn’t bring your own dice again, did you?” 

“They searched me on the way in. What’s that about?” The man snickers, “but I see you get to bring your own toys.” 

The man makes a show of looking around Bucky, leering at you. Bucky pushes him straight by the chest, “never had any problem finding something to play with.” 

“Ah, don’t be so sensitive. Your girls are always so much fun,” the man, Stark, taunts. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, that goes for the staff too,” Bucky warns. 

“Wow, have you demoted yourself to bouncer now?” 

“These are my people, Tony,” he claps the man’s shoulder, “consider it a friendly reminder. I know you tend to forget.” 

The man scoffs and rolls his eyes. He takes the dice as they’re held out to him and tosses them onto the felt. Bucky tickles your lower back with his finger and you squirm, elbowing an unexpected figure behind you. You let out a squeak and turn as Bucky does the same. 

“Hey,” a skinny man, not much taller than yourself greets, “been looking for you.” 

“Steve,” Bucky says, “what’re you doing here?” 

“Ah, you know,” he scratches his floppy golden hair, “you haven’t picked up your phone so--” 

“Shoot, what’s the date?” 

“Buck, it’s tomorrow,” the blond, Steve, grins, “I’m just making sure you show up. Ma would be real disappointed.” 

“I wouldn’t miss Sarah Rogers’ birthday for anything,” Bucky avows, the genuine tone in his voice wrenching at your chest. “You gonna stay and enjoy the tables? You still got your complimentary chips waiting on you.” 

“Told ya, I don’t like to gamble,” Steve chuckles, “but thanks.” 

“I’m sorry, buddy. I should’ve picked up. I’ve been so busy...” Bucky pauses as Steve smiles at you sheepishly as if he’s only just noticed you.  

“I get it,” Steve’s lashes flick, “she’s... miss, you’re real pretty.” 

He sounds as nervous as you feel. His cheeks tinge pink and he tucks his thumbs into his pockets. His brown slacks definitely don’t fit into the sparkling casino. Bucky laughs too. 

“Chill, have a drink at the bar before you go.” 

“Thanks, pal,” Steve smooths back his hair, “but I should probably head out--” 

“She don’t bite, Rogers,” Bucky chides, “well, I’ll tell her to keep her teeth to herself,” he rubs your back and slips his fingers around your side, pulling you close once more. “Have a drink for me, alright?” 

“Alright,” the smaller man exhales, “don’t forget.” 

“I won’t,” Bucky promises. 

As the blond strides away, slightly off kilter as he looks around, seeming lost as he tries to see around the people around, Bucky draws you away from the dice table. The small man reminds you a lot of yourself in some ways. He’s braver than you, he came all alone. 

“That... who?” You wonder. 

“My best friend. Since we were kids,” he answers, “good guy, just a bit... uppity. His ma’s got her birthday tomorrow. You should come.” 

“Oh, uh, that’s... I don’t know--” 

“She’ll be happy to meet ya. She’s been telling me to settle down for years,” he scoffs. “Her son too and he does try...” 

“Well, this isn’t.... it’s early--” you stammer. 

“You still don’t believe me,” he challenges you as he angles you to face him. He brings his hands to your arms, stroking the bare skin with his roughened fingertips, “you don’t think I’m gonna keep ya, doll?” 

“No, I didn’t-- I don’t know. It’s all so new and—I'm sorry, Bucky, I want to—I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know--” 

“Shhh, doll, I’m not mad. I got work to do. That’s fine,” he trails his fingers up the strap of your dress and tickles your throat, “I’ll keep it up, don’t you worry. Let’s get ya a drink.” 

He walks you to the bar, laying his hand on the top as the bartender crosses to him attentively. Bucky pauses before he orders and looks at you, “ladies first. What do you want, doll?” 

You look between Bucky and the bartender. You have no idea. You weren’t planning on drinking, you’re already a mess as it is but you don’t want to be rude. 

“You like cranberry, doll? How about a cosmopolitan?” Bucky suggests. 

You nod and face the bar again, “sure, uh, please, a cos...” 

“Cosmopolitan, coming up,” the bar tender agrees, “usual, sir?” 

“Single,” Bucky holds up a finger, “I wanna keep my wits about me.” 

The bartender sets to work and you fidget. You crane around to see the rest of the casino, a furor rising from the blackjack table. Bucky rubs your arm and draws your attention back to him. You give a nervous smile as you try not to think about those watching you in turn. 

“Hey, don’t even worry about it,” his voice is low and gravelly as he brings a finger up under your chin, “the only thing that matters is us, doll.” 

Before you can react, he leans in to kiss you. You’re caught entirely off guard, trapped in his snare as his tongue glides along your lips. He hums and pulls back, dropping his hand with a sigh. 

“I gotta get a hold on myself,” he laughs as he shows his palm, “you make it hard, doll. You really do.” 

You rock and smile bigger. Your cheeks are fiery and your temples are pounding. The bartender announces your cocktail and puts it up. Bucky takes it and hands it to you. You thank him as he turns to retrieve the short tumbler of flat whiskey. 

“Go on, have a taste, doll,” he encourages as he gives a gentle tap to the base of the stemmed glass. 

You look down at the coned glass of vibrant red liquor and juice, a twist of lemon against the brim. You raise it cautiously and give a sniff before you press your lips around the glass. Your eyes flick up as Bucky lets out a rumble. He fixates on your mouth as you sip, his teeth graze over his lower lip. 

Your cheeks pinch as you taste the mixed drink and you pull it away from your mouth. You dab your lips with your knuckles, terrified of smearing the gloss. You flutter your lashes at him and force another tight smile, “mm, it’s... sweet.” 

“Dangerous,” he smirks, “I don’t do cocktails. They go down to easy.” 

“Oh,” you give a guilty pout. “I don’t...” 

“It’s fine, it’s not that much,” he waves off your excuse, “really, doll, you could use it. It’ll help you relax.” 

“Right, er, thanks,” you slowly turn the stem between your fingers and look down at the glass. “I’m sorry I don’t...” 

“Hm,” he shifts closer as your voice drifts off, “sorry for what, doll?” 

He nudges you smoothly away from the bar, putting you back into step as he casually traverses the floor, his hand right on your back. He guides you subtly with the constant warmth between your hips. It is both comforting and disjointing. He’s there with you, propping you up, and yet you do not belong. 

“I don’t really fit, er, or... know what to do,” you murmur. 

He leans in to hear your small voice. He scoffs. 

“Let me tell you something, doll. You fit just nice on my arm. You don’t need to worry about anyone else but me, you got it? All these people in this room, they’re nothing. All these lights, all this noise, and I can only see you,” he purrs. 

You giggle nervously. He’s so flattering. He always knows just what to say.  

“Thanks, I...” you look away, embarrassed at your little confession. You’re supposed to be trying to blend in and yet you can’t help but put yourself on the sideline. He’s not the type. He is the main attraction. 

“You feel better, doll?” He asks as he rubs the dip of your back. “If it’s too much, we can go somewhere else.” 

“I’m... I’m good. I don’t wanna ruin the night,” you say, “really.” You raise the glass and sip again, “it’s really good, thank you, Bucky.” 

“Mph, I love it when you say my name,” he snarls, “come on.” 

He continues along, guiding you between tables and behind distracted bodies. The tables are packed with gamblers and figures pass from one to one, a line forming around the counter dolling out chips for cash. You take it all in, as if it’s a scene in a movie, observing all the background characters... still, you don’t feel like the star. 

A sharp pain strikes your arm suddenly and you stumble into Bucky. He keeps you from teetering onto your ass as he hugs his arm around you. Your cocktail slips out of your grasp and the glass cracks on the floor, splashing the remnants across the carpet.  

You’re pressed into Bucky as the unstable man latches onto the tall stool he just slid off of. The impact of his elbow thrums in your arm and you rub the tender spot and wince. Bucky shifts you behind him and moves as fast as a shadow. The back of his dark jacket strains across his shoulder blades as he grabs the man by his collar. 

“Hey, what the hell are ya doing? Watch yourself! You nearly knocked my woman over,” he sneers as he as good as shakes the man, “you made a mess of my carpet, you scumbag.” 

“Bucky,” you squeak in horror, the hot eruption of rage surprises you. He is a different man; he looks more like a wolf as he snarls at the offender. “It was an accident--” 

“Nah, it was a mistake,” Bucky brings the man even closer, “get the hell outta my casino before I break you like that glass.” Bucky shoves him away and kicks the broken glass on the floor, “now.” 

He puffs his chest out as the other man rambles drunkenly, apologising and staggering, skittering off in an uneven gait. He glances back several times as if fearing he’ll be followed. Bucky signals across the room and you see a man in a suit nod; he must be security. 

“Bucky,” you touch his elbow and gently graze his sleeve down to his hand, “are you okay?” 

He opens his fist and lets you tuck your hand into his. You’re quaking again. You cling to him out of need. You’re adrenaline rings in your ears. You don’t like anger. 

“I’m sorry--” 

“Don’t be sorry, doll,” he squeezes your hand as he exhales the tension from his shoulders. He looks down at your hand and lifts it, turning to you as he kisses the back of it. He leaves a tingle on your skin, “I like that.” He tightens his grip as he keeps a hold of you, “you need a fresh drink, doll.” 

[hxnbi]

✧ among the stars — sung jinwoo 

synopsis: in which jinwoo still clings fruitlessly onto the past

tags: angst, death, unhealthy coping with said death, no comfort, gn reader

word count: 2.3k

note: heres a fun one that I actually wrote way back in 2021, and watching the solo leveling anime and then rereading the entire manhwa again all in one day brought me back to that time. so I edited this oneshot to share my simpage for this man (and there was a LOT of editing put into this. past me writing this sure was interesting)

Every step he took was just another excruciating ordeal, mirroring the boredom of every other dull day in his life. Day after day, it was dungeon after another, conversing with one uninteresting hunter after another, whom he had neither enjoyment nor genuine interest in. Everyone, except for you, that is. 

You were the singular exception to all the mundanity. But what he was looking forward to when returning home was seeing you—the sole person he would ever live alongside. Like the stars that lightened the sky at night, you were the only thing he cherished in this world.  

"Hello? [Y/n]? Are you home?"

No reply.

A small smile edged over his lips. 'Guess they're still at work.' But his shoulders drooped in disappointment. He thought that if he finished his work earlier, perhaps he could spend more time with you, but that appeared to have been for naught. 

Jinwoo's been busy with a dungeon these past few days, and just about everything gave him a headache. Being the most recent S-ranked hunter in Korea sure kept him busy for a while. 

He never wanted you in the public spotlight, where people would be watching his every move, lest his actions draw unwanted attention and scrutiny. It haunted him. But unbeknownst to his own fears, you understood that fact completely. 

Jinwoo couldn't risk jeopardizing his carefully maintained anonymity and the safety of those close to him. Only then could you be by his side and comfort him when nobody else could. With your hand over his, you offer a sense of silent support. Quietly, you always preferred being at the centre of attention.

Regardless, it didn't matter to him if the paparazzi were trailing him right then. He needed more time to see you as of late. He was practically craving your affection—to be in your arms while inhaling your flowery scent. 

But... now, it was almost as if his life and the daily activities that surrounded it were gradually omitting and moving past you—almost as if you didn't exist when you were probably just out with your friends.

Seeing you weren't here, he proceeded to wait for you to return home. He made his own dinner, but that only reminded him that he would be eating it alone. Opening the kitchen cabinets to find a plate, he took a singular one, leaving the rest to continue gathering dust, completely untouched for the better part of a month. His meal had ended up tasting blander than usual. Perhaps it was because you weren't here, sitting beside him.

Your absence that night sure was affecting him more than he thought.

Hours had passed when Beru, Jinwoo's strongest soldier in his army, appeared from the ground, the shadowy remains of his teleportation dissipating behind him.

With a hand over his heart, he addressed his master. "My liege… They still have not returned home yet. Perhaps you should get some rest."

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes, revealing the atrociously dark bags under them even further. It was even worse than he initially expected. This had even made Beru step back in fear of his master's wrath. 

Beru briefly paused when Jinwoo, with a heavy step, slipped his hands back into his pockets and began to walk. "...Alright then. Remind me as soon as [Y/n] is at the door." 

Beru nodded once again with his hand over his shadowy heart. "As you wish, my liege."

And he made his way to your and his shared bedroom. The door creaked open softly, revealing an empty bed. For a second, Jinwoo chuckled. You must've been out hanging out with your friends again. Yet, despite the room's quiet, Jinwoo didn't feel sleepy. The worry for your safety lingered in his mind. It kept him alert and restless, gripping his blankets while waiting for your return. 

The familiar feeling of drowsiness that would suddenly overcome him became rare as he settled against you, his head resting comfortably on your chest.

Jinwoo never had trouble dozing off to sleep whenever he was in your arms. But without you there, it was all he could ever think of. He's had some horrible sleep lately.

'They'll come soon,' Jinwoo hummed. 'I just know it.'

But an hour passed, and then two. Three would soon follow. Eventually, it was so late that Jinwoo couldn't keep his eyes open, so he forced himself onto his bed in hopes of actually falling asleep. Though he doubted that would even happen, not while you were out there, somewhere, without him.

Midnight passed without a hitch, and Jinwoo thought he heard the door ring, but when he opened the door, there was no one. The sky was still pitch black. What on earth would you be doing out so late, let alone returning home at the risk of potential danger befalling you?

He scoffed. It must've been some kind of ding-dong ditch. And he was dumb enough to fall for it. 

Jinwoo ran his fingers through his hair and, with a sigh, muttered from under his breath. "What would [Y/n] think if they saw me like this?"

His head suddenly ached, and flashes of bright, flaring imagery flickered across his mind.

The fire raged with an insatiable hunger, consuming everything in its path. Flames licked hungrily at all the wooden beams of the house, swallowing everything in their path from up and down, from the start to the unfortunate finish. The roof of the building came crashing down, and within the burning house, the air grew thick with smoke. 

Outside, onlookers watched in horror. All the while, desperate cries pierced the night. Their pleas were drowned out by the roar of the flames. But there was nothing they could do. No ordinary soul could survive that. 

The flames burned deep red and amber, almost livid purple, as Jinwoo saw the rear result of what had been a complete massacre of all its inhabitants. 

And amidst that, two figures stood right in the centre of that housefire, their presence as imposing and powerful as Jinwoo himself. Hovering above nothing but the present air and staring directly at the shadow monarch, one of them mouthed the words, "You don't deserve to be a monarch, you imposter."

"Tch…"

That memory. 

"...Beru."

The very second his words left his lips, the shadow appeared. With a hand over his chest, he addressed his master. "Yes, my liege?"

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me, huh? Were you lazily watching your dramas again?" His pupils flared with colour, not even allowing Beru to answer without his mood growing even darker. "Is that more important than ensuring that [Y/n] is home safe and sound?" 

The bug, stiffly standing at attention, remained silent. "I apologize, but there was no one at the d—"

"I don't want to hear it. Now get out of my sight."

Beru's head only dipped lower. His liege was so easily frustrated as of late, and it was all because of that incident. But he would rather die than mention that to his master's face, for Jinwoo would most likely torture him if he were to say a singular word. 

He felt pity for their master for succumbing to such mortal feelings.

Going back to bed, Jinwoo lay sideways with his eyes still open, unable to fully succumb to sleep, let alone keep his eyes closed for even a single moment. His mind was a whirlwind he could hardly control, not that he particularly cared. 

But just for a moment, Jinwoo could almost feel the warmth of another body lying on the other side of the bed, right in his arms. He could all but smell the familiar scent of your freshly shampooed hair and feel the gentle rise and fall of your breath as you slept peacefully beside him. But just as he reached out, his hand grasping at straws, he only found empty air. 

A cruel reminder of your absence.

Jinwoo closed his eyes and sighed deeply. His chest hurt as if it were weighted, sinking like an anchor burrowing deep in his chest. He couldn't get the picture of your face out of his head. Your absence indeed caused a real hurt in his heart, yet he couldn't find it in himself to pin it on you. 

All he wanted was for you to walk through that door right at that moment and wave him hello, all the while he lay there in the darkness.

'Ahah… right. What was I thinking?'

Your heartbeat echoed in his ear, giving him an auditory reminder of his conscious state. 

'They're right there.'

You existed in his life, and that was all that mattered.

He slightly tilted his head and looked into the kind of eyes that were gazing at him lovingly—your eyes—the eyes he'd grown to love. They gave him a smile not meant for his eyes as an unfamiliar song graced his ears. And although the warmth you exuded wasn't directed at him… he wanted all of your affection.

The tender voice of his significant other echoed in his ears. 

"I love you," you chimed, caressing his cheek. 

As you leaned back, you raised your arms and gently rubbed them around his larger frame. Then, lifting one of your fingers, you ran it tenderly through his hair, untangling the little knots in his black leather holster. 

"I love you too..." he whispered. His gaze softened ever so slightly as a gentle breath blew past. Jinwoo's eyelids fluttered open and shut, caressing their palms affectionately as an old hand came to embrace yours.

But Jinwoo knew all along. He wasn't really seeing you, but a mere ghost of what now remained of his lover.

"Fuck…" 

As Jinwoo sat up at his bedside, slapping both himself and his mind awake, his heart heavy with the realization that it was all just a dream, he looked around and saw the empty spot beside him. 

"....."

"Damnit…" he cursed under his breath.

It was getting to him. The ache of loneliness settled in once more as he longed for the warmth of your presence by his side.

But wherever he went, all he could see was you. 

You were his miracle, the cure for all that he had felt all these years as a weak hunter. Even being an S-ranked hunter couldn't satisfy his pride. All he needed was your affection and love and nobody else's. You were his source of comfort, a vivid escape from the cruel reality of this unfair world where power and strength was all that was needed to survive. But you were living proof that wasn't what he wanted.

It was then that you noticed that glaze in his eyes. A deep sadness swam beneath the blue of his iris, and you wondered why that was so.

"What's wrong, my dear Jinwoo?" Your expression softened, growing worried at seeing his expression. "Is something on your mind? Would you like to talk to me about it? I'm all ears."

Hah…

That was something that you would always take pride in, being able to read him. 

He shook his head. "... It's nothing."

A heavy sigh eluded his lips as he turned his head to the woman next to him. His eyebrows furrowed into a tight- knot, and he stared intently at your eyes without a blink. 

Your hand caressed his cheek. But the warmth was missing. It felt oddly cold. "Well, if you ever want to talk, I'll always be by your side."

Jinwoo's heart clenched. 'No, you won't…'

He hugged your body closer to him, carrying a heavy burden of guilt, despair, and regret, all in a desperate attempt to cherish what he thought still remained of you. Unbeknownst to him, what he was clutching onto was but a pillow.

It was cold. It was stiff. It was nothing like you. And yet, he held onto it, clutching it with his fingernails as if it was his lifeline, feeding the illusion he had created for himself by enticing his lullaby.

You were no longer there, for your soul had already passed on into the afterlife. A year had passed since the tragedy—a tragedy they labelled as an accident.

But that couldn't have been more false.

That day gave him a false sense of security…

The memories haunted Jinwoo relentlessly since day one. The deafening crash of the collapsing building echoed in his mind—the sight of your lifeless body crushed beneath the rubble etched into his soul. 

It haunted him. But deep down, he knew it wasn't an accident. Far from it.

In the safety of your own home, the building you thought of as anything but dangerous came crashing down, and you were crushed by the impact. The monarchs decided it was time to get rid of everything he cared about.

Death. A concept all too familiar to humans.

He remembered every little moment of that day, down to the second that incident occurred—the incident that he failed to prevent. 

All because of him.

It was no one’s fault but his own.

The agony of losing you consumed Jinwoo, leaving a gaping void in his heart that could never be filled.

They took you away from him without remorse or justification. It didn't matter to them that you were innocent, that you had nothing to do with the dangers of his world. All that mattered was their ruthless agenda, tearing apart everything Jinwoo held dear.

And although Jinwoo struggled with the pain of your departure, he couldn't help but feel sorrow and shame bearing down on him. If only he had been there to keep you safe and out of danger. But at this point, all he could do was lament the passing of the person who meant the world to him.

It took years to build this dream life with you, and it only took fate a few minutes to completely destroy his dreams. Forever.

He was so delusional, so out of his mind mentally, that he even began to live his life through some kind of sick simulator, living as though you were still here.

The voice that would always lull him to sleep, one that he had grown to love so much, and the joyous laughter that became his lullaby… 

He'll do it. Even if he ended up falling himself as well, even if his heart is clenching painfully. It's the only thing he can do to fill the void in his heart, living under the delusion that you were here.

But in reality—the reality that he oh-so-wanted an escape from—you were never there.

For you had long already passed away.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[runningfrom2am]

gem of panem // LTPF

summary: introducing regulus and regan snow; son and daughter of the most powerful couple the country has ever seen. the real gems of panem.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: dad!coryo!! finally!!, gamemaker!reader, this time the capitol brats are their kids, also a little bit of violence in this one!! some very minor medical procedure descriptions (trypanophobia havers beware- although that's me so i was VERY vague with descriptions otherwise i would have made myself cry)

a/n: i've had dad!coryo requested for this series a few times so here's a taste of that and an introduction to their kids!! ahh I've been working on this for so long i hope you guys love it :)

series masterlist // playlist

"I simply do not have time for this. Notify my husband." You wave off your assistant as you stand over the large round table in your laboratory.

"I- uh, your husband, Doctor Snow?" The young girl stammers.

"I don't believe I stuttered, did I?"

"No, Doctor. I just... I am uncertain he will be available right now."

You look up from the scattered pile of papers, and you can see her tense up. "I understand that he's our president, but he is also a father. He is more 'available' than I am a week before the games! Now go, he shall handle it."

"Yes, okay. I will, I'm sorry." She agrees, already pacing away and out of your sight and you get back to work, resisting the urge to attempt at rubbing away your now growing migraine.

"President Snow, sir?" Coryo looks up from his desk as one of his people opens the door for your assistant.

"Serena, my wife sent you?" He asks, standing quickly. It wasn't standard that you would send her instead of showing up yourself, or even just waiting until the end of the day to tell him over dinner.

"Yes, sir." She nods, looking down at her notepad. "Her office got a call from the academy, about an hour ago. They wished to speak with her about your son, sir. In person."

Coryo furrows his brow, already standing and grabbing his red overcoat. "Did something happen?" Why would they call the head gamemaker and demand her presence a week before the games? That seems incredibly careless.

"They wouldn't tell me anything other than the fact he is safe and not injured, sir."

He nods slightly, already brushing past her out the door. "Call the school, tell them I am on my way."

Coryo gets out of the black car, pacing up to the elementary wing of the academy's campus, a building he is far too familiar with. Walking in, he watches the receptionists eyes go wide as they both stare at him. He clears his throat.

"Where is my son?" He asks flatly.

"In the Deans office, President Snow." She replies and he nods, rubbing his jaw.

"Whose decision was it to call on my wife a week before the games are set to begin?"

Her face pales. "Well, um, she is the primary emergency contact for him, it is procedure to make that call first."

"So it was you?"

"Yes, sir."

Coryo leans onto the counter that separated them. "Right, well, maybe we should work on our critical thinking skills next time if we want to keep our jobs, yes?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He smiles slightly at her response, tapping his hand on the granite counter before walking off down the private hall.

He enters without knocking, practically slamming the door open and immediately searching the unnecessarily large office for your son. "Regulus, are you alright?" He asks, approaching the boy quickly when he sees him sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

"Dad, I'm fine..." He mutters, arms crossed over his chest as he pouts.

Coryo crouches down in front of him, examining him closely.

"Coriolanus, I was surprised to get your call." The new Dean says, drawing his attention as he stands back up.

"Why is that?" Coryo asks, turning to his former classmate with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugs, standing behind her desk with her hands in her pockets. "We called for Y/N."

"A week before the games." He nods, approaching the desk slowly. "Are you not happier to see me than her, timing considered?"

"That's a good point." Persephone chuckles.

"Yes, she was not pleased you even called." Coryo replies, knowing he didn't even speak with you directly. "So please, tell me what is so important that you needed to interrupt both of our schedules."

"Right, yes. Please take a seat." She gestured toward the chair across from her own and he sits, only because it's polite. "So," She flips over a page in the notebook in front of her. "Regulus hit another student."

Coryo's eyebrows raise, and he turns to look at his son who's still pouting in the corner. "Come here, please." He pages him, and he saunters over, refusing to make eye contact with either of the adults in the room.

"Why?" Coryo asks him as he takes the empty seat next to him. The boy shrugs, still avoiding their gaze.

Coryo sighs. "Would you mind, Persephone? What happened?"

"Apparently..." She glances at her notes again. "Another student took his pencil without asking first and didn't give it back because, quote, 'they needed it and he had plenty'." She explains, looking up at them again. Regulus was the striking image of his father, his hair in the same longer somewhat disheveled curls that she used to remember on the man sitting next to him when they were that age.

"That's it?" Coryo asks.

"He hit him on the head, he's in the nurses office now being assessed for a concussion."

"Okay..?" He chuckles slightly in response. "Why did you have to call us?"

"Because this is a serious disciplinary issue." She scoffs, gesturing to his son.

Coryo looks between the two of them. "Okay, well, he looks like he feels bad, and I'll have my staff send an apology letter to the boys parents." He says, standing up again and tucking the chair back in. "Come on, kid. Let's go."

"Coriolanus, respectfully, this is more severe than that." Persephone interrupts. "We won't allow students to go around hurting others- especially over something so menial as a pencil. Eight years is too old for that kind of behaviour."

"You know his mother- don't you?" Coryo asks, raising an eyebrow at her. "I promise you, Dean Price, this is not serious." He turns then to his son. "Grab your stuff, I'll take you home." He says, and the little blonde boy rushes back to the corner to grab his bag.

"Coriolanus." She says again, exasperated by his lack of concern.

"Oh, and please tell the other boy that theft is not tolerated in Panem. He's lucky we won't have him executed." Coryo says, feigning a genuine smile at her with a sharp nod. He knows this isn't true, that executing a child over something so petty would never be considered in the Capitol, it would just be wasteful, but maybe next time he would think before stealing from the Presidents son.

She gives up at this, sighing as they walk toward the door.

Coryo shuts the door behind them, reaching forward to ruffle his son's hair.

The boy giggles, pouting and trying to fix it. "Dad.." He laughs, looking back up at him. "You're not upset with me, are you?"

"No, of course not." He grins, leaning down and placing a hand on his shoulder as they walk. "Did you know that your Dean is a cannibal?" He whispers, giving a quick nod to the girls at the reception desk as they pass.

Regulus gasps, looking up at him. "Is she really?"

"Yes." Coryo nods. "Tell your friends."

"Ew..." His son shivers, and Coryo smiles.

"I know right? Gross." He laughs quietly as they step out into the hall. "Now, where's your sister?"

"She's in English." Regulus answers and Coryo nods, leading him up the stairs and toward the classroom.

Once again, Coryo doesn't bother knocking before opening the door to his daughter's classroom.

Everyone looks up at once and the teacher pauses, gasps and whispers filling the room.

"Daddy!" Regan smiles, standing quickly and running down the stairs to the door, throwing her arms around his waist.

"Hi, Gem." He chuckles slightly, rubbing her back as she clings to him.

"President Snow..." The teacher smiles nervously. "We weren't expecting a visit today, but we were just discussing the significance of The Hunger Games and it's depictions in literature, would you care to comment?"

"Oh, interesting!" He grins, glancing back to Regulus waiting just outside. "I would love to, but Regan's mother is really the one to speak to about all that. Unfortunately, I'm busy today but perhaps we can get her in one day to speak in one of your lessons?"

"That would be wonderful." Her teacher smiles. "Then, what brings you in?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry for interrupting, but I'll be pulling Regan for the day." He explains and his daughter gasps, looking up at him with excitement. "Yeah." He whispers to her, patting her head. "Go get your things."

"Oh! Okay, did you sign her out? Typically they would call me beforehand." The teacher replies as Regan goes back to her seat, grabbing her things and being not so sneaky about sticking her tongue out at her classmates.

"No, I just decided to grab her while I was here. Just call the office and let them know I took her." He smiles, opening his arm to his daughter again as she comes back.

Regan practically skips out of the room, super excited to be free of something she already hears about endlessly at home. "What happened, Daddy? Why are we leaving?" She asks, grabbing her father's hand.

"Well, my schedule cleared up and I just thought 'Hm... I sure am missing my favourite girl today,' and then I remembered your last report card and how incredibly well you are doing and decided you deserved a day off."

"Really?!" She squeals, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Of course, Sweetheart." Coryo chuckles, scooping her up to carry her down the stairs.

"Lux, what would you like to do today? Anything you want." He looks down at the boy walking next to them.

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Daddy, can we go see Mum?" Regan asks, looking up at him with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. "I want to see her pets!"

Coryo chews the inside of his cheek. It's certainly not a good time, but if he would be with them maybe they could just sneak in to say hello. He found it extremely difficult to say no to her. "Sure, Darling." He nods, opening the front door to the academy.

"Okay, remember, Mum is very busy so we're just going to pop in to say hello, and if she says it's okay we can go see her pets." Coryo explains to the kids as they get out of the car outside the Citadel. "We're going to be quiet, and not touch a single thing unless I say it's okay."

Regan's blonde pigtails bounce as she runs up the stairs in front of the building, having abandoned her bag in the car. Regulus is right on her heels, reaching for her hair as if he's going to pull it.

They were under a year apart in age, 'district twins', as Ma Plinth had dubbed them when Regan was born. When you were expecting your son, the games were difficult to plan and execute. You would never admit it, but Coryo could see that the hormones of pregnancy made you almost sympathetic to the tributes and their families- you could hardly even watch the games you spent a year meticulously planning. You spent most of the time you could watch with a bucket in your lap. So when Coryo suggested you have your second right away, you were skeptical. You didn't want to go through that again right away, but he wasn't sure he could convince you to do it again if you decided to wait.

"Let's just get it over with," He had insisted. "Then we'll have our two beautiful babies and you'll never have to do it again. Everything will go back to normal." You couldn't argue with that logic.

So when Regulus was eleven months old, the Capitol was buzzing with excitement over the announcement that the First Lady of Panem had given birth to another child; a baby girl, and she was perfect.

"Gem of Panem! What do we have here?" Your receptionist grins as the three of them stroll in, eyes locked on the kids as Regan holds her head high. The receptionist is rounding the desk, crouching down and opening her arms for the little girl who happily runs into them. "If it isn't the real gem of Panem, how are you, Miss Regan?"

"I'm good." Regan giggles, arms wrapped around the woman's neck. "Daddy picked me up from school early."

"I see that." She chuckles, standing up and lifting the seven year old onto her hip as she looks at Coryo.

"I decided to let the kids have the rest of the day off today, and they wanted to come say hi to Doctor Snow." He explains. "If she has a moment."

"Oh, that's a good question..." The woman nods, gently lowering Regan back to the ground and circling the desk again, pulling up the paper schedule and scanning over it for a moment. "You know what, let me call her and just ask."

Your phone rings on your desk in the corner and you sigh, heels clicking across the floor as you pace over. "I swear to god if it is the school again..." You mumble to yourself, picking up the line. "What is it?"

"Doctor Snow, sorry to bug you, but your family is here."

"My family..." You ask, mind still set on the technical details of the almost prepared arena.

"Yes, Doctor. President Snow has brought your children by, they wish to see you, but only if you have time."

You blink, realizing what she said. "Okay, yes. That's fine. Send them down."

You can hear your kids before you see them, Regan talking away mostly to herself as they step out of the elevator into the part of your lab that held your office. You sigh, quickly removing your leather gloves and fixing the disheveled state of your hair before stepping out into the hall to greet them.

"Mummy!" Your daughter squeals, running toward you as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

"Hi, Gem..." You laugh slightly, eyes now focussed on Regulus. He's shifting on his feet, standing so close to his father's side that he's almost standing behind him.

"Lux," You let your daughter go, opening your arms to him. "Come here, darling. What's wrong? What happened?"

He doesn't say anything, eyes locked on the ground as he walks up to you and leans into your shoulder. "Are you hurt?" He slightly shakes his head and you pick him up, allowing him to wrap his legs around your waist and arms around your neck.

You look pointedly at your husband.

'I'll tell you about it later' He mouths to you and you nod, gently rubbing circles into the boys back while Regan pulls on your lab coat impatiently.

"Mummm," She whines, already stomping her foot on the ground since your attention was no longer on her. "Mum, I want to see your pets and Daddy said we could."

"I said maybe, Gem." Coryo laughs slightly.

You chew on your lip, not minding the deteriorating state of your red lipstick. You were really anxious to find out what happened with Regulus, so maybe letting the kids entertain themselves for just a moment would allow you a second to talk to Coryo about it.

"Sure, of course you can. We'll just have to be quick, Mum is very busy today." You smile, gently putting your son down as his head perks up at the idea. "Come on." You take his hand, leading them all down the hall to one particularly safe section of your lab.

There are a series of mutts under testing and development here, but in this room close to your office, it contained only small animals like mice and rats, or bugs that the kids never showed much interest in. "Don't touch a thing, okay?" You tell them as you unlock the door.

The kids rush in, running up to a tank and immediately gawking at its contents. You didn't understand why, fully, since they just looked like regular old house mice. Your kids just wanted to be involved, you supposed. The same way Regan enjoyed sitting on Coryo's lap while he gave speeches or did interviews, but Regulus had always shown more of an interest in what you did behind the scenes, not just in front of the cameras.

"What happened?" You ask Coryo quietly as soon as they are sufficiently occupied.

Coryo chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek as you keep your eyes locked on the kids. "Hello to you too."

You sigh, smiling as you lean into him. "Hi. Sorry. I'm just a little stressed."

"I know, love. Don't worry about it." He squeezes your side. "We'll get out of your hair in a few minutes."

"What happened with him?" You ask again.

"He hit another kid." Coryo states plainly and you gasp, turning to fully look at him for the first time.

"What?" You ask, searching his expression for any clue that he may have been kidding.

He shrugs. "They stole his pencil and refused to give it back."

"Oh, well, then they deserved it." You scoff. "Little brat- did you get the names of the parents?"

He laughs quietly, shaking his head and reaching up to hold your cheek. "I handled it. Don't worry about a thing." You don't have the chance to argue before he's kissing you to hush any of your concerns.

You hum against his lips, pressing a hand to his chest. "But, Coryo-"

"I handled it." He reminds you, just gently biting down on your lower lip. You can feel him smiling against you and you hum, allowing yourself to relax for just a moment.

Coryo takes the opportunity to turn to face you fully, dragging his hands down over your hips and backing you against the wall just behind you.

The kids were there, yes, but they were well used to seeing you kiss. It didn't bother either of you, and they had never known anything else. One day they may complain, but until that day came you would take every opportunity granted to you within your mutually tight schedules. Besides, the kids should know what love looks like. High expectations are good expectations, in your opinion.

The moment is interrupted by your phone ringing in your office down the hall and you quickly take a step back. With the tributes already in the Capitol, you couldn't afford to miss a call. Anything could happen- you know that story well.

"I'm sorry, I need to get that." You say and he nods as you turn to the kids. "Lux, Gem, come on. Time to go."

"Mum!" Regan whines, stomping her foot down as she always tended to do. "We just got here, can't we stay a few more minutes?"

"No, Regan. Out. Come on." You motion for them to come and they do, but your daughter in particular looks extremely unpleased as she stomps past you and out the door while Regulus follows with his hands tucked in his pockets. You turn off the light and lock the door.

"Okay, I'll see you at home tonight. Yes?" You kiss your husbands cheek and he smiles, giving you another quick kiss before you disappear into your office and shut the door behind you.

You take the call, and of course it was nothing of importance. So many things had to be run by you as head gamemaker that they felt it necessary to call and confirm the contents of what would be fed to the tributes. It never ended.

You don't even get the time to process where you had left off with your work before you're overwhelmed by voices. Your name being yelled by your husband accompanied by screaming, horrified pained screaming- which you quickly identify as coming from Regan. Your motherly instincts kick in before you even know it and you're throwing your door back open and are standing in the hall.

Coryo rushes out of the elevator with your daughter in his arms, his eyes wide as he moves quickly toward you. "It bit her! Something bit her- I don't know, I-"

You nod; there's no time for questions. "Okay, get her to the exam room." Moving as quickly as possible down the hall, you're grabbing at her little red blazer and pulling the sleeves up as she keeps screaming bloody murder.

You shove the door open and rush inside, for the first time noticing Regulus following behind you. You grab his shirt and pull him in while Coryo quickly lays her on the table. Even in the panic, you couldn't leave him unsupervised anywhere in the lab. Especially if something had escaped.

"Get her top unbuttoned, I'll need her arm free!" You tell Coryo as you shuffle around through the cupboard quickly trying to find everything you were looking for. A syringe, the antidote for whatever it may be. You don't even know. Glancing over your shoulder, her skin looks flushed with red patches showing up on her neck and face; but it could just be from crying.

Coryo's hands are shaking as his daughter continues to scream and cry in his face, making it harder for him to get her blazer off and unbutton her top. "You're going to be okay, darling. Shh, shh... Mum's gonna help." All he can think about while he pulls off her blazer and frees her arms from the little blue shirt is the time that he saw Clemensia Dovecote get bit by one of Gaul's snakes. He thought she was dead, and she walked out of the hospital wishing that she was. She never recovered- but she was quickly given treatment. Much quicker than his seven-year-old daughter, who is also significantly smaller than his friend was at the time.

"What was it? Did you see what it was?" You ask in a panic, bringing over a box and flinging it open next to her on the table.

"I didn't see it! I just saw-"

"It was a mouse." Regulus says, and Coryo turns to him with wide eyes. Luckily, you're all action and you're already filling the syringe with something that should counteract whatever effects the mouse's bite could have on her while he stares at his son. He looks calm, watching the scene with a tilted head. "It was just a mouse, Daddy."

Coryo looks away, grabbing Regan's hand and squeezing it. He didn't have the chance to tell you that whatever it was, apparently this "mouse", had been dropped down the back of Regan's shirt by her brother as soon as the elevator began to lift them. He had done it on purpose. Though, he couldn't have known what was wrong with the creature.

"This is just gonna be a pinch, Gem. Try and take a deep breath for me..." You tell her as you squeeze her arm. She makes no effort to do so, but knowing that the mice were only being designed to cause pain, it didn't surprise you.

"There you go, good girl..." Coryo coos at her as you just as quickly remove the needle, quickly disposing of it as he brushes her hair back from where it clung to her face. Immediately he can see the blood returning to her face, and she's still crying but whatever it was you gave her must have helped with the pain instantly.

"She'll be okay." You sigh in relief, rejoining his side and lifting Regan up so she's sitting. "Can you hold her? I just need to find the bite."

Coryo sits on the table, lifting her into his lap as you look over her arms and ankles. "It's on her back." He tells you, repositioning her carefully so you could see. She wasn't screaming anymore, just sniffling with eyes drooping shut.

You furrow your brow, stepping to his other side to get a look at it, seeing the small swelling area at the top of her back. You grab some disinfectant to quickly clean it before you dress it properly. "What happened?" You ask. "Did she fall?" It was unclear to you how she could have been bitten in such a place without being on the ground.

Coryo doesn't say anything, shifting his gaze over to Regulus again. He's watching you closely and how you're treating the bite, eyes trained on your gloved hands.

When your husband doesn't answer you immediately you look up at him again, and then follow his eyes to your son. "What did you do?" You ask him, plastering the gauze onto your daughter's back.

"I just wanted to know what would happen, Mummy." He says simply.

"You knew what would happen, Lux. I've told you so many times not to touch anything. That it's not safe, and one of you could get hurt." You frown, packing up your first aid kit before going over to him, and kneeling down in front of the blonde boy. "I know you're interested in what I do, and I love that, but if you have questions you have to ask. Not do experiments yourself."

You grab his arms to get him to look at you again. "Hey, I'm not mad at you." You say softly. "I just need you to be careful. You're smarter than this."

He nods, wrapping his arms around your neck and hugging you. You sigh as you hug him back. "You can't hurt your sister, darling. We're a team. Do you understand?"

"I do. It was just a mouse, I didn't think it would be that bad. I'm sorry." He agrees quietly, eyes still locked on his sister as his dad cradles her gently in his arms. She's passed out against his chest, holding her as close as he possibly can.

He shakes his head at his son, trying to display his clear disappointment. It would quickly be noticed if his daughter, the President's daughter, fell ill, and he knew he would have to jump through hoops to cover up her recovery and that the very reason for it was her own brother.

Regulus Snow was his mother's son, and Coriolanus didn't believe his apology one bit.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world @nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl

[nkogneatho]

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

—cw: this is just hella angst and a lil fluffy, character death, jjk au but altered a bit, megumi is reader's son and toji and reader are couples so don't get this twisted because of the tags.

—a/n: please cry. or do inhave to cut onions??? no but fr i was sobbing hard while writing this because yaknow how much i love my man :(( please give feedbacks tho i love reading them.

your eyes were resting close. there was sense of guilt, panic and fear gnawing megumi as he sat on the stool next to your hospital bed. there were a million reasons he could've prevented this. a million. but what is supposed to happen, happens. if he rushed home quicker, you, his mother wouldn't be lying on the hospital bed right now. if only he would've been aside you, keeping you company instead of on a mission, he would've saved you from those corrupt sorcerers. but it happened. and now he was scared, praying every god to turn back time or save you somehow even when the doctor's had announced you wouldn't make it.

you fluttered your eyes open, and slowly adjusted your head to meet your son who was resting his face in his hands, probably sobbing.

"me-gumi..."

"MOM?" his voice was drenched in panic and fear but he eased it out, making sure not to startle you. "you're fine. you're completely alright. just rest and go to sleep okay?"

"since when do you lie to your mom?" he was stunned you caught his lie "i know...i know my body better than anyone else," you stated. his lips quivered in guilt. poor boy. why does he blame himself for everything?

"gumi?" he couldn't form words so he just replied with a hum. "it's not your fault. i don't blame you for anything."

"but—"

"you're the best son i could ever ask for. i know i didn't give birth to you, but not once i ever felt like you weren't my son...not on—not once did i ever feel like you weren't a part of my heart...", a tear rolled of his eye. "so don't blame yourself or you'll be insulting my heart."

"you are the best mother ever." you chuckled lightly because you remembered once he brought an essay home with the same topic. "my mom is the best mom in the world," in his crooked handwriting and drawing of you and his dad holding hands with him. oh right. dad. he knew it was his dad that he fought in shibuya when you told him when he was finally ready. he spiraled into a emotional mess to gulp everything and then your words finally cleared the blurry pictures he had in his head of his childhood.

"is there something you want me to tell your dad when i meet him?" megumi stopped breathing for a few seconds before he finally let out a sigh.

"tell papa...i am sorry." megumi and toji never really had that deep and close father-son bond. there as never a right time in their life.

"he is not mad at you megumi. we're—we're parents. we will always love our child even when they hate us. and you hated him for the right reasons." he was in the verge of sobbing. "megumi...look at me." he lifted his head to meet your eyes. "your dad loved you. he really did. and i am sure when i meet him...he will ask about you first."

"promise me you'll be my mom again in the next life?" he offered his pinky.

"i promise." you entagled your pinky with his.

"i love you mom." you smiled. you didn't say it back. you didn't need to. he knew that you loved him so much.

megumi gently took your hand resting on the hospital mattress and tucked it between his palms. he was warm. or maybe it was your blood running cold. colder and colder till you shut off your eyes, the smile disappearing as your muscles relaxed and heart gave up. megumi's eyes lost inq containing the river of tears and they finally rolled down.

*sounds of waves*

you opened your eyes to bright blue sky mirroring on the ocean, the waves emerging and lacing your feet, the sand tickling your toes. you looked around to find something else but it was all just...beach. till your eyes fell on someone they've been starving to see for years. your husband. the love of your life was right in front of you.

toji smiled and you exhaled in relief, but the exhale bought the years of pent up pain appear on your face, making tears fall constantly.

"i waited for so long, baby." god, his voice. you missed it so much.

you ran. you ran till you were in the arms of your lover, and toji embraced you like he would never let go. "i am here." you cried and he did too. his lips pressed against yours so tightly. he stopped to look at you and ponder at your beautiful face. a face everyday that he tried not to forget. he never could but now you were here finally.

"how's megumi?"

"that idiot. always blaming himself. did you mention how shitty i was?"

"he said "tell papa i am sorry, ha."

toji laughed.

"i did. but he still loves you." you both thought it was funny. "he's your son after all. doesn't show it, but he's stubborn like you inside."

"i am not stubborn."

"yes you are. you got yourself killed even when i told you not to. you left me alone to survive in a world without you even when i told you don't. do you know how hard it was everyday to live without you, toji?" your words getting a little unclear towards the end as you sobbed and yelled.

toji hugged you once again. "i am sorry."

"you should be!"

"i know." he kissed your forehead. "why don't you tell me what happened all these years while we take a walk on a beach?" your puppy eyes peered up at him. "we have forever now."

[gay-dorito-dust]

heyy idk if u still write for percy jackson or not ,, but if u do could u pls write a percy jackson x reader fluff?

Does this count as fluff? 🦦

‘Do you ever take anything seriously for more than five minutes?’ You hissed at Percy who was crouched down next to you, looking over your shoulder for an escape route before looking at you with a smile.

‘Four minutes is my maximum but there’s always room for improvement.’ Percy replied with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders as you groaned in response, wondering why you even bothered asking in the first place when the answer was quite clear; You even started questioning whether or not it was the smartest decision you’ve ever made in asking him to pair up with you for this because it seemed that Percy would often make his sarcastic, witty comments whenever the opportunity arrived for a more serious hand.

‘I’m severely doubting that.’ You muttered and that was enough for Percy to switch up his approach and grabbed your hand, gently but firm. ‘Hey,’ you looked back at him hopelessly, causing him to strengthen his hold on your hand, ‘I promised that I’d get us out of here and-‘

‘We’re cornered Percy.’ You cut in, already having accepted your losses and wanted it to be all over with. ‘We’ll never win against them, it’s hopeless and besides why didn’t you save yourself when you had the chance?’ You laughed humourlessly. ‘You could’ve thrown me to them and still win the whole thing, after all I’m not as smart as Annabeth or as strong as you or Thalia. So tell me what good could come from getting yourself cornered here with me?’

Percy clenched his jaw at that and said without hesitation. ‘At least I get to be with you at the end of everything.’ Your eyes widened. ‘I wasn’t going to leave you, alright? I couldn’t leave you back there even if I tried because you know as much as I that isn’t who I am.’ Percy then leaned his forehead against yours as he spoke again but this time it was barely above a whisper as though he didn’t want anyone else to hear this but you. ‘I’m never leaving your side, not now, not ever. even if it kills me, I’ll still be there by your side; Victory and Valour be damned.’

You were left speechless and taken aback by how impassioned his speech was that you felt as though you could take on anything and everything, so much that you found yourself reinvigorated with the need to see this through and make it out the other side the winners. Percy, happy to see the spark back in your eyes smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead before pressing his head against it once more with a fire in his eyes.

‘Now, what do you say we show ‘em what we’re made of?’ He asks and you mirror the smirk he had on his lips.

‘Let’s go and kick some Ares and Aphrodite kids’ ass.’ You replied.

On a count of three, you and Percy leaped out from your cover and ran towards Silena and Clarisse with your weapons raised, the pair were more then ready and waiting to draw you both out of hiding, also leapt into action.

Tag rugby in Camp Half Blood was a vicious game and tended to bring the worst out of everyone but at least you could say you’ve won one game with Percy by your side.

[dustofthedailylife]

The Art Of Desire

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: You are in need of a model for your anatomy class assignment. However, the last thing you expected was that your crush would volunteer to help you and that he would end up standing in front of you without a shirt.

Tags: Fluff, Suggestive (but still completely SFW)!, shy reader, partial nud*ty I guess? (Alhaitham is shirtless at some point), flirting, kissing

A/N: *throws fic into the room and leaves*

Being an artist while also being a scholar in Sumeru had always been somewhat difficult for you. The arts had never been something most people in Sumeru City appreciated or even actively looked down upon. It was a city of scholars after all, and the arts were too abstract to properly grasp for most of them.

Things had begun to become better after the old Grand Sage had been replaced and the new Archon had been freed but a lot of scholars still didn’t show much interest in the arts.

But due to that an assignment for one of your classes proved difficult. Anatomy.

You had no idea how learning human anatomy would help you as an architect later, but you did what you had to do. And it would surely help you with your personal art projects later on as well.

The only thing you had to find now was someone who could pose for you. Surely Kaveh would be able to help you right? He was your best friend and was once in the same situation.

You sought him out where he hung around the most - the Tavern.

As you walked through the Tavern door, warm air that smelled like wine and spices wafted your way and filled all your senses. You loved how homely it always felt here.

You scanned the tables to find Kaveh. Unfortunately for you though, he wasn’t alone. As you feared, Alhaitham was with him. You already considered turning around to leave again but Kaveh had already spotted you and was enthusiastically waving for you to come over to their table. 

And that was precisely the reason you rarely ever came here nowadays. Kaveh often met up with Alhaitham here for lunch. And your crush on the latter had slowly but surely turned you into a nonsense-blabbering mess during conversations with him. At this point, he probably thought you were stupid.

You hesitantly tiptoed over to their table and greeted them while your heart pounded heavily inside your chest. You sat down on the bench next to Kaveh who was already a bit tipsy. It wasn’t much of a surprise, since he was such a lightweight and practically got drunk as soon as he looked at wine the wrong way.

“Kaveh, I need your help!” You pleaded, trying to avoid eye contact with Alhaitham as much as possible once again.

“And that would be, my dear friend?” Kaveh replied in a singsong voice.

“Alright so… I need someone to pose for me. I need to draw a couple of detailed torso drawings for the anatomy course I’ve been taking, and since you also took that once I thought you could help me. I mean, you could also give me some tips. Right?” 

“Oh.” His smile faltered for a brief moment and his facial expression told you everything you needed to know. There was apparently a reason he couldn’t help but he didn’t outright want to turn you down. You knew how he is, he simply couldn’t say no and would inconvenience himself any time for his friends. And you definitely didn’t want him to do that for you. You’d be able to find someone else somehow.

“It’s okay if you can’t do it. Just say no.” You reassured him.

“I have an appointment in the desert with a client, but I’m sure I could make some ti–”

“I’ll help you.” Alhaitham cut Kaveh off.

Both of you snapped your heads in his direction in disbelief.

“Are you sick?! Why would you volunteer to help anyone but yourself?” Kaveh gasped and looked at the Scribe as if he’d lost his mind.

“It’s not much work, is it? They could just come to my office and draw me while I just sit there doing my work. Isn’t that correct?” Alhaitham inquired, boring his turquoise eyes into you. You simply nodded in reply and could feel your breath hitch in your throat. You were sure that if you would be standing right now your knees would’ve probably given in by now since they felt like jello. On top of that, your nervousness skyrocketed so badly that you were able to feel your heartbeat in your throat. 

The thought of being alone with Alhaitham for a prolonged period of time while ogling him as closely as you never dared before, made your heart flutter. You probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate on drawing properly but if he was already offering it, you couldn’t possibly refuse. Especially since he usually didn’t do anyone any favors to begin with.

“Besides,” Alhaitham continued. “It gives me an excuse to decline every other meeting for the rest of the day.”

“Tch, typical. Of course, there’d be an egoistic reason for your volunteering.” Kaveh scoffed.

“I don’t see any issue with that. I help them with their assignment while also helping myself. It’s a beneficial endeavor for both of us.” Alhaitham reasoned, twirling his own wine cup between his fingers before turning to you again. "Wouldn't you agree, too?"

You slowly nodded before quickly averting your eyes again since you couldn't bear to look at Alhaitham for longer than a few seconds without getting flustered. You had no idea how you were supposed to look at him for a prolonged period of time to draw him if you were already reduced to a flustered mess by talking to him. The thought alone made your heart almost jump out of your chest.

Kaveh shook his head in annoyance and turned to you once more. “Just say the word and I’ll take a day off to help you. Rest assured, it would be no problem for me.”

“No, Kaveh. I couldn’t possibly ask you to neglect your own responsibilities for my projects. Just keep your focus on yourself. If Alhaitham is so kind to offer his help I’ll take him up on that.” You reassured him while trying to hide how nervous you actually were about the situation.

“Well, shall we get going then? My lunch break is almost over.” Alhaitham interrupts, immediately getting up from the table.

You somewhat hesitantly got up as well since you didn’t expect he meant you could draw him right now. You had no time to mentally prepare for it so this would be interesting.

“Oh, so now you suddenly care about getting back to work on time after your lunch break,” was the last thing you heard Kaveh yell before the door of the Tavern fell shut behind both of you.

As you quietly tailed behind Alhaitham back to his office the realization that you’d actually be drawing him now suddenly began to dawn on you.

Oh, just what did you agree to here? And how in the world should you avoid making this awkward now?

Once you arrived at his officeAlhaitham unlocked the door and motioned you inside.

“You can sit down at the table over there. Do you need anything?”

“No. I should be fine.” You replied with a shy smile.

You were in fact everything but that.

While you were trying not to have a meltdown as you unpacked your stuff, Alhaitham was brewing some coffee and handed you a cup as well.

“Do you need me to do anything?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“In terms of posing.”

“Oh. Uh– no actually not. Just sit on your chair and read or whatever?”

“Nothing easier than that.” He replied with a faint smile, grabbing a book from the bookshelf beside you and walking back to his desk.

You busied yourself by scanning the books on the shelves that littered his office while sipping on your coffee before you turned around again and had to stop yourself from immediately spitting your coffee out again. Although as soon as you did you wished you had never done so.

Alhaitham had unclasped his cape and had loosely thrown it over his desk and was just about to pull his shirt over his head. You were trying to process what was happening before your eyes but your mind was racing so fast that you failed to fully grasp the scene before you.

“W-what are you doing?!” You stammered.

“Didn’t you say this was for your anatomy assignment?” He inquired, seeming entirely unbothered before ultimately removing his shirt completely.

Well, yeah you did. And for that bare skin was sort of a requirement. You knew that full well, too. It just sort of slipped your mind that taking Alhaitham up on his offer would actually entail seeing him without a shirt as well.

“Y-yes.” You replied, moving your eyes over his now exposed abdominal muscles. His usual shirt already left little to the imagination, but actually seeing his trained body without the thin piece of fabric covering it was a sight for sore eyes.

He claimed to only be a feeble scholar but that notion couldn’t be any further from the truth.

“Then there you have the answer to your question.” He stated matter-of-factly before sitting down and opening his book to read. His face still looked as unbothered as it did before and he immediately lost himself in his book.

In the meantime, you tried your hardest to get yourself together again. Not only did you need to keep your eyes from wandering but also your mind. 

You traced every well-toned muscle of his upper body. How light and shadow formed their contours and how his pectorals moved whenever he flipped another page. You took note of every detail and etched it into your memory while suppressing the urge to brush over his defined muscles.

You sat down at the table and held onto your pen for dear life as you continued to analyze every little detail of his body. The embedded gem between his collarbones and hot it beautifully shimmered in the light of his office. The sharp V-Line that started right above his hips. The symmetric curve of his collarbones leading up to his shoulders. And his turquoise eyes that were boring into yours once again.

"Is anything the matter?" He inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

"N-no. I'm just trying to find a starting point." You stammered your poor attempt at an excuse.

After all 'Sorry, I was too distracted by staring at your body' wasn't something you could just say either.

“T-tell me if you’re getting too cold and we can take a break.”

“It’s 40 degrees outside, I’ll be fine.” He chuckled seemingly amused about your concern.

“Ri-right. Yeah. Okay.” You awkwardly bit your lip. For Archon's sake, why couldn’t you just behave normally around him?

After overcoming the first awkwardness you eventually started sketching. But the more the shapes on your paper resembled the beautiful man in front of you, the more flustered you became again and the more aware you became of the fact of how closely you were actually looking at him. Your attention to detail for this sketch was even more on point than it had ever been before. Upon realizing that it was because you were enjoying what you were seeing your cheeks started to burn in embarrassment.

You spent about an hour immersed in sketching, carefully studying every contour of his upper body. It felt so intimate that you couldn't help but wonder if anyone had ever looked at him this way before. And even though you kept telling yourself that this was just a regular art study session to avoid getting flustered further, the endeavor proved completely unsuccessful. 

Eventually, you finished your piece and dropped your pen on the table. You lifted your sketchbook up to evaluate the page and the final result.

The once-blank page was now filled with an intricate pencil sketch of the handsome man with a dreamlike physique. You had to admit, he truly was the perfect subject for anatomy studies. And while you wouldn’t mind seeing him shirtless more often you doubt your heart could handle it another time. Because despite sitting the entire time you felt like you had just run a marathon.

“Your talent is quite impressive.” Alhaitham’s voice rang right next to your ear and made you flinch. You didn’t notice how he had approached you. And what made things worse is that he was still shirtless while standing next to you so closely you could feel the heat that emanated from his skin and smell his after-shave.

You gulped and got up from your chair avoiding looking into his eyes as much as possible because you feared that if you did your heart would burst out of your chest. 

“Thank you. That means a lot. I-I mean… it was quite easy to see the muscle definition on you.”

Facepalm. Why did you say that? You internally cringed at your choice of words and continued to avoid looking at him while you hastily started packing your bag again.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” He remarked with a smirk and lifted your chin up with your sketchbook, forcing you to look into his eyes.

You opened your mouth in order to say something but everything you could’ve said died in your throat. So instead, you simply continue to stare at him while your heart felt like it was about to combust and you wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground in shame.

He huffed in amusement at your evident flustered state and closed the gap between your bodies, placing his arm next to your head on the wall, towering over you.

“Do you have any idea how obvious you are?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I see the way you look at me, or rather how you always avoid doing so now. And Kaveh happened to slip up and revealed your secret when he got drunk. And that’s why I can tell you that I feel the exact same way about you. And I’ve longed for a moment to tell you. You didn’t make it easy since you kept avoiding me lately.”

You didn’t know whether what was happening was wishful imagination or a fever dream because it felt surreal. 

He put your sketchbook back on the table and lifted your chin with his free hand now. He took hold of one of your hands and placed it on his abs.

“This is what you wanted to do the entire time, am I right?” He whispered while the bud of his thumb brushed past your lower lip. You slowly nodded as your traced along his toned stomach with a featherlight touch, feeling how the muscles moved below your fingertips.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered in a low tone when you looked up into his eyes.

He had barely even finished asking when you leaned into him more and took the initiative to place your lips on his for a shy kiss. But it was so fleeting it had you longing for more and it seems that the feeling was mutual.

He quickly snaked his arms around your waist and pressed you against him with fervor while he hungrily crashed his lips into yours once more. You slung your arms around his neck and entangled your fingers in his soft gray locks while pushing his face even closer to yours than it already was.

You could feel him smiling into the kiss, as you did so. His lips continued to gently caress yours like a tender whisper of affection shared only between you two. It made you feel lightheaded while also leaving you longing for more. It was an intoxicating feeling like no other. One you certainly could get addicted to - and maybe you already were. 

At some point, you had no idea for how long you had been standing there kissing but it felt like an eternity yet not long enough at the same time.

You were sure of one thing though – You needed more of it.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hii cutie! Sorry bc my first language it's not English.. First of all I LOVE your writing you do write so sweet about everything and I love that you write about actors too with all the respect!! I was wondering.. I hope it's not too much, if you'd be able to do smth like ewan x actress!reader where she plays his love interest in hotd and they're so comfortable with each other and everyone in the cast can see the chemistry between them but they're afraid of showing their feelings to each other and just think that's just friendship, but somehow someone tries to open the eyes to one of them making the other one jealous and... You know, just write it however you want and of course if you want it, I trust you for this one!! Thanks sweetheart <3

Easy To Be

Ewan Mitchel x Actress!Reader (low key Aemond x Reader)

Summary: "It's really hard to be cruel to you," Ewan mutters. I snort, "if that's hard, then it must be hell to have to kiss me." He hums, "quite contrary," he looks off to nowhere, "I enjoy that more."

Word Count: <500

Warnings: Fem!reader, actress!reader, it starts off pretty violent, fluff, pining, annoying!cast members, crack fic, typos, etc.

A/N: Idk why i'm writing this when my head hurts but i hope you enjoy nonnie though i did take liberties!!! OH WAIT I ALSO WANTED TO SAY DONT *EVER* APOLOGIZE FOR YOUR ENGLISH. ENGLISH WISHES IT MADE MORE SENSE /: AND gurl your english was flawless 🤨 fr you better than me. THANK YOU BY THE WAY FOR YOUR SWEET WORDS ABOUT MY WRITING! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU AND I LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @antisociablewallflower @lxdyred

Aemond shoves me against the wall and presses me back, hands on both of my shoulders. He huffs, "you must think me either a fool or insane."

I whimper as I try to break away, "no, I know you're insane."

He scoffs and he grabs my jaw, titling my head up just as he draws his dagger and presses it against my cheek, "and do you think I think you're special?"

I make a sound as he tightens his hold on my face. "It will do you good to remember," he leans against my ear, "I can be betrothed to a great many other women. You ought to not test me again."

He shoves away as he storms out of the room.

"CUT!"

I release a sigh and gather my dress as a bunch of stylists come up to redo my make up and fix my wardrobe.

Once that was done, Aemond, or rather, Ewan walks back to his mark and looks at me, "are you alright?"

I smile, "a little rough this time around, but all good."

Immediately he stiffens and walks up to me, grabbing my hand, "shit, I'm sorry. Does it hurt somewhere?"

I grab his arm and step forward, "no, no," I shake my head, "it was just a really intense grip," I make a face, "it was kinda hot-"

"BOO GET A ROOM!"

Ewan and I turn to our side.

Someone makes hurling noises. "KISS, KISS, KISS, KISS-"

"Why are you even here?" I quirk a brow, "you don't even have a sce-"

"YOU TWO ARE GROSS, JUST KISS ALREADY!"

Ewan rolls his eyes and turns back to me.

"EWAN IF YOU DON'T KISS HER, I SWEAR TO FUCK I WILL."

Ewan huffs and looks to the side, "and shall I stab you instead?"

My eyes widen at his reaction. The morons lose their shit after hearing that.

He turns back to me and with knit brows, "I will be more gentle next take."

"No, it's fine," I shake my head, trying to ignore the way I was burning up, "I can take it. Honestly, I'm more concerned about how you keep stepping on my dress."

Ewan brings his hands together and chuckles, "sorry. I'm quite eager. I be more mindful of my steps."

I smile some more.

"-I CAN'T BELIEVE HE ACTUALLY SAID THAT THOUGH!"

We continue to ignore them.

"It's fine, Ewan. Just don't trip on me or we'll both get hurt."

He nods. "It's really hard to be cruel to you," Ewan mutters.

I snort, "if that's hard, then it must be hell to have to kiss me."

He hums, "quite contrary," he looks off to nowhere, "I enjoy that more."

"... w-what-"

"WAIT, WHAT DID HE SAY?!"

[saturnville]

bite, l. hamilton

pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x black best friend oc (anvika dawson) content: in which two friends cross a line people have been waiting for them to cross. warning: 18+ content song: bite by njzoma an: y'all know I don't write smut fr, so ntm. but I hope y'all enjoy it. wc: 2,498 tags: the girlies who were hyping me up to post this @boujiestpoet @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @greedyjudge2 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites

“Just because we’re attracted to one another doesn’t mean we need to sleep together. I’m off that. Plus, we’re friends.”

Anvika prided herself on being a woman of self-control and discipline. Though it did not come easy, years of abstinence grew dreary and at times, very lonely, her hard work was not something she was willing to risk. Her decision to step into abstinence wasn’t one she took lightly, nor was it one that she planned, but once Anvika began the journey of healing from a heartbreak, intimacy with another man wasn’t the priority. Though that had been over four years ago and she was well over the situation, she could admit that while it was difficult to maintain her self-control, not having to worry about anyone’s snot-nosed son brought more peace than she could ever imagine. 

“Even more of a reason to let it happen. Everything happens better when you have a solid foundation first. Everybody thinks you two are together anyways. He truly cares for you, in more ways than one.” 

Anvika hummed and rolled her eyes as she brought the slender champagne fluke to her full lips. The liquid went smooth down her throat. She shrugged. “Then let them think that. Lewis is a good man, a good and attractive man, but…”

Her friend, Onyx, sighed and downed her drink with a wave of her hand. “I don’t know how you do it! I would’ve lost my mind by now. I commend you.” Onyx bowed playfully which pulled a light laugh from Anvika. Though she was joking, she couldn’t help but sense the truth behind her words. 

Though swearing off men and intimacy had become a more common practice among women, many people found it taboo and unrealistic. She soon began to ponder--what if she’d never find anyone that could give her what she wanted because of how she chose to navigate her dating life? She shook it off internally. That would be a problem, but none that would be hers. 

Before she got the chance to respond, her phone rang against the glass table that held their expensive lunch on it’s back. LH flashed across the screen. She smiled softly which caught the attention of Onyx, who gave a teasing smirk. For someone who was insistant on keeping a strong boundary between herself and her closest friend, she surely smiled like a fool whenever he called. 

“I told you I have a lunch date with Onyx today,” she reminded the racer lowly, using her index finger to draw doodles in the condensation her water glass sweat off on the table. “Everything alright?” 

“Everything’s fine, angel,” he spoke smoothly. “Just wanted to make sure you were still wanting to join me for the event on Friday.” Anvika hummed and nodded as though he could see her. He was attending a gala in London and of course, offered his plus-one to Anvika, as he had done since their friendship had begun years prior. What was his, was hers, including access to rooms and events that would grant her opportunities to further her career as a branding and marketing consultant. 

“Yes,” she replied excitedly. “I still haven’t found a dress. What color are you wearing?”

There was shuffling in the background before he spoke again. “Blue. Don’t worry about it,  I’ll handle it.” Her heart fluttered. “Enjoy your lunch. Tell Onyx I said hello and call me later, alright?” 

Anvika’s teeth trapped her bottom lip. “Alright. Talk soon.” 

“Bye, love.” 

Anvika turned her phone on its face and looked up, catching Onyx’s playful eyes. Her thick eyebrow touched her forehead. “Friends, right?” Anvika gave her a look. Onyx raised her hands in defense, “My bad, my bad.” 

-

Lewis Hamilton was a gentleman. Sure, this was universal knowledge, but something about him being gentlemanly with her made her heart flutter and her stomach clench with desire. And it almost made her question Onyx’s point, “he truly cares for you; in more ways than one.” It’d typically be something she’d deny, but as she stood in front of the mirror with her hair done by a hairstylist he arranged to come, her nails done by a nail technician he’d flown out, and a dress he arranged to be custom-made to suit her body, how could she deny it any longer? 

“Don’t think too deeply into it,” she scolded herself, slipping out of her robe. She walked toward her dress, pulled it off the hanger, and carefully slipped into it. “You’re friends. Close friends who care for one another. That’s it, that’s all.” 

They met at the paddock six years prior. She was invited to her first Formula One race through her consultant agency, which took her team on an all-expense paid trip for their hard work. She wasn’t aware of Formula One, just of familiar names. Then, at the end of the match, she had the chance to put a face to the infamous name of Lewis Hamilton. 

“You raced well,” Anvika noted, taking in the slightly disheveled appearance of the raceman. “I’ve never been to a Formula One race; good job on giving me a reason to come back one day.” 

The man’s eyebrow raised in interest. He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscular build on display. “Is that so?”

Anvika nodded. 

“We can make that happen whenever you want.” 

It was Anvika’s turn to raise an eyebrow. A smirk played on her lips. “Is that so? Tryna be my friend, Lewis?” 

He shrugged his shoulders. Friends wasn’t too bad. Anything to get to know her. “Any man would be a fool to refuse that opportunity, Anvika.”

That marked the beginning of an inseparable union.

Anvika continued to mumble and grumble, doing whatever she could to keep her mind eased. Her self-conversations were halted by a knock on her door. Lewis. “Coming!” Holding her dress to her chest. She turned the doorknob, and the familiar scent of his cologne filled her nose. “Are you…oh. Oh.”

Closing the door behind him, Lewis’ eyes were trained on her, the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on. The dress, complementary to his suit, was perfectly designed and tailored to her. She was a fan of long-sleeved dresses, so that’s what she got. It was constructed with a heavy, luxurious velvet material and it hugged every riff, edge, and curve on her body. The neckline showed the swell of her breasts and her beautiful collarbone. The mermaid-like tail further accentuated her shape. 

Her hair was parted to the side and curled to perfection. The makeup complimented her features--thick eyebrows, full lips, and a round nose. And her scent, goodness, it suffocated him. The jasmine and almond notes filled his nostrils and he wanted to nuzzle his face in her neck and inhale like she was the air he needed to breathe. 

“You look beautiful,” Lewis managed to speak. His voice was so low that she almost didn’t hear his compliment. With a bashful smile, she thanked him and led him to her room where she wandered toward the bathroom, which had a series of jewels across the counter. “Help me pick a necklace?” 

Anvika turned to face the jewelry and fought hard to ignore the heat that radiated from Lewis’ body as he moved to stand behind her. From over her shoulder, his eyes followed the line of jewels the stylists brought. His eyes landed on a silver necklace; a thin chain with a multi-carat teardrop diamond. “This one.” 

Lewis took the necklace in his hands and placed it around her neck. Anvika lifted her hair to grant him easy access and shivered as his cool fingertips brushed against her skin. She inhaled deeply. “Stunning.” His breath was warm against her neck. They locked eyes in the mirror ahead of them. The tension was thick. Suffocating. His brown eyes, usually so full of love and warmth, were filled with something she couldn’t quite identify, but it made her body heat like wildfire. 

“I’m ready,” she announced, careful not to let her voice waver. She turned, purposefully ignoring the groan he released when she brushed against him. Her lips quivered as she tried to give a steady smile. What the hell was happening between them? Anvika placed her hands on his chest and soothed the non-existent wrinkles on his suit jacket. He was so handsome. “You look great, darling.” 

“Thank you…” his words came out as a whisper. He was too distracted by her. Six years of friendship and what he felt from the time he met her at the paddock all those years ago had reached a breaking point. He’d boiled over. 

Anvika tried to smile as she pressed a kiss against his cheek, but with how he reacted, her lips landed at the corner of his lips. She took a step back. “Let’s get ready to go, yeah?” 

Lewis swallowed thickly. He held his arm out for her, which she grabbed instinctively, and together, they were out the door with a million and one thoughts swimming between them. 

-

“And that beauty you’ve brought?” an older man questioned Lewis, who had his eyes on Anvika as she danced through the siloes of people in the room. The gala was nothing short of a popularity function, a random event on a random weekend for the host to flaunt their money and connections, Truthfully, his desire to attend dwindled once he saw her in that dress. She was the only thing on his mind. 

“Anvika Dawson,” Lewis said, nodding in her direction. “One of the best branding and marketing consultants in the industry. She’s amazing at everything she does. You’ve got a business, don’t you?” And that’s why he was a good friend, Anvika noted as she began to walk over, hearing him advocate for her in front of the man. 

“You flatter me,” she said with a smile as she took a position under Lewis’ arm, which slid around her waist. “Anvika Dawson, nice to meet you.” 

The older man, who had went by the nam Eli, shook her hand firmly and nodded in interest. “Well, pardon me, but the two of you would make a wonderful couple.” The young adult chuckled lightly; the comment was nothing new to them, but it seemed to bring them both discomfort given the fact that they had a very intimate moment just an hour before their arrival. Before Lewis could speak up, Anvika thanked the man sweetly then they were whisked in another direction. 

They were joined together at the hip for the remainder of the evening. And, on the rare occasion that they were apart, they stole glances from across the room like teenagers in a romantic sitcom. Soon, the event wrapped up and they were in the backseat of the car, sitting in a thick silence. 

Anvika sat at the right of the car, her knees turned inward and her legs crossed. With every bump in the road and swerve of the car, the tip of her heel brushed against Lewis’ leg. His breath hitched. She said nothing. 

The car came to an abrupt stop and the doors were opened for them. Before her foot could touch the ground, Lewis’ hand was awaiting. “Thank you,” Anvika said softly, and allowed him to guide her into the hotel. 

He still hadn’t said much. The walk to the elevator was quiet, yet, he hadn’t let go of her hand. What was he thinking about? If it was the sudden shift in their interactions, it didn’t go unnoticed by her either. 

The elevator doors peeled open and Lewis guided her in. He pressed the button, 10, that would send them to the floor their rooms were on. The elevator ride seemed slow as each ding indicated they’d entered another floor. 

Anvika cleared her throat and decided to speak up, “I enjoyed tonight. And again, you looked great. I love blue on you.” 

He couldn’t remember what happened between her compliment, her back against the elevator wall, and his lips on hers.  The only thing that forced him to key in was her hands pressing against his abdomen and his name falling from her lips. “Lewis…” What he’d heard time and time again in his dreams had finally become a reality. His stomach churned; could he get her to say it again? “What are you…” She cut herself off when she fell victim to the wonderful feeling of his lips against her jaw. 

“I just…” Lewis settled his face in her neck. “One night, Vi. Let me have one night with you…” Her heart pounded in her ears. What the hell was happening? 

“Lewis…” Her hand slipped and fell just above his belt. She extended her arm just slightly. “We can’t do this. I-I don’t want to mess up our friendship and you know I’m not going all the way with anyone--” 

Lewis hummed. His eyes sat low as he looked at her. She looked completely worn out as if he’d done to her what he truly wanted. Her forehead glistened with sweat, her lipstick was smeared, and her chest heaved. “Nothing will change for the worse, angel. And I don’t want to go there with you, just want to make you feel good…always have.” His left arm circled around her waist and his large hand palmed her backside. She whimpered. “Can I?” 

“Someone might see...” 

He ignored her. “Can I make you feel good?” His tone was stern as he repeated his question. Suddenly, the gala was out of her mind and the only thing that clouded her thoughts was him. Him and him only. Lewis Hamilton had infiltrated her mind and she finally stopped fighting it. 

The elevator dinged. “Yes…” 

-

“Should I…?” her hands reached for the necklace that shone beneath the dim lights of the hotel suite. Lewis shook his head and peeled his jacket off his shoulders, revealing a crisp white wife beater. He shed that too. Anvika’s breath hitched. “Keep it on. Lay back for me, angel.” 

Anvika looked like an angel surrounded by the comforter. Her undergarments were long discarded, save for her underwear which he kept in the pocket of his pants. The pure white of the sheets were a stark contrast to the richness of her complexion. Her hair was sprawled against the pillow with a few strands covering her face lazily. The look on her face was one of comfort, relief in one way or another. 

She welcomed Lewis’ body between her legs as he crawled on the bed and his lips against hers as he hovered above her. For the first time that night, Anvika’s hands didn’t tremble when she touched him. She welcomed the feeling of every ridge of muscle, every raised scar, and every mature tattoo. 

Their hands moved frantically over each other’s body, and it felt amazing. She hadn’t realized how touch deprived she was until she heard his chuckle in her ear. Her face warmed. She felt like a teenager. “It’s okay…” his lips ghosted against the shell of her ear. “Make all the noise you want.” 

Anvika didn’t respond--her mouth wouldn’t allow her to. As Lewis moved down her body, she sat on her elbows, watching and waiting. God, he was so handsome like this. His head was dipped between her thighs and his tattooed glistened under the dim lights. Slowly, he lips created an intentional trail from her belly down to the treasure just centimeters away from his mouth. 

Her fingers clawed at the bedsheets as the anticipation rose. She was becoming impatient. He was giving attention to every other place except where he wanted her. She huffed. “Lewis…” 

He hummed, clearly unbothered by her frustration. He glanced at her, “Yes?” She whimpered. “Talk to me.” He was amused, very amused. She was desperate for him. It was evident by the way her arousal seeped onto the bed. He gathered some on his fingers, using it as a lubricant as he finally began to touch her. 

Anvika gasped. His movements were slow and meticulated but they were enough to set her over the edge. He brought his lips to hers again, which she accepted sloppily. Her jaw fell slack as he continued to work her to her first release of the night. It came quickly, quicker than she would have liked. When his fingers hit that spot within her, her hips jerked and she squeaked his name. 

Lewis chuckled, “That’s it?” He prodded that spot again. “Right there?” Anvika nodded. He removed his fingers. She groaned in frustration, “Lewis, please!”

“Please what?” He brought his fingers to his lips and moaned at the taste of her on his tongue. If this was just the beginning, he couldn’t imagine how mad he’d go in the coming moments. “Tell me what you want.”

She clocked it. He wanted her to beg. Anvika wasn’t the begging type. She may have been far removed from having sex, but she always got her way, especially with Lewis. Her hands trailed down the muscular planes of his stomach. Her fingers hooked in his belt and pulled him forward. Her fingers curled around his neck and her nails toyed with the faded hair there. She brought her smeared lips to his ear, her tongue dancing against the shell of it. He shudder. “I want you to make my legs shake and rock my world. Can you do that, Lewis?” 

Her voice. The way her voice dropped in octave but increased in seduction had his head spinning. There were a few moments of silence as he fought hard to gather himself and the more she spurred him on, the most difficult it became. But then, she heard it, “Yes…”

-

“Right there, right there! Oh my…” He was a lover of music. Being in a studio, creating melodies to go with lyrics, was his favorite pastime. But this took the cake. She created her a song better than he could have ever imagined, and was it addicting. 

Her moans, cries, and screams were melodic and his name was the only lyric she knew. He hated repetition in music, but loved hearing hers. So addicting. So well created. So beautiful. 

Her legs trembled around his head and her hands were buried in his braids. He fought the urge to bend her over when she whispered out the faintest, “Baby, please…” She’d used terms of endearment before, but in this context, it was different. “I’m close!”

Her body, damp with sweat and covered in bruises created by his mouth, jumped and jolted as she grew closer to her peak. Lewis sat up, replacing his tongue with his highly skilled fingers. He used his arm to stabilize his body as he hovered over her. What a sight.

Her hair was completely sweated out, pooped and frizzy at the roots. Her makeup stained the pillows and her lips were swollen from her biting and his intense kisses. Her neck was dark with love bites. Her eyelids were hooded but he could see the fire behind her eyes. If only he could capture her and keep the picture in his pocket forever. 

“Doing so well for me,” he whispered, kissing against her cheek and jaw. His fingers made quick work of the huddle of nerves between her legs. “Taking it like a good girl.” Her moans grew louder, higher in pitch, and full of air. It was becoming too much—her hands pushed against his arm, trying to run. “Don’t run now. Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

“Lewis, I’m—“ she cut herself off with a high pitched scream that seemed to ring on forever. Lewis chuckled lightly and worked her through her orgasm. “That’s it, baby.” Her body shook as she tried to come down calmly.

He spent a few minutes between her legs, caressing her gently as an act of comfort. Her loud noises had diminished to soft whimpers as she came down from cloud nine. When she finally opened her eyes again, he asked, “You okay?” 

She was better than okay. Though they didn’t cross all the lines, Anvika had gotten the best orgasm she’d received in her life from a man’s mouth and hands. She’d deal with the consequences later, but in that moment, she felt amazing. 

She nodded and smiled lazily. “I’m okay. Are you…do you want me to…?” Her eyes fell to the evident bulge that strained against his pants. He shook his head.

“I’m okay. Let’s get you cleaned up…”

-

What was supposed to be a shower to clean her up resulted in her on her knees giving him the most intense release he’d experienced in months. It left him panting, shaking, and whimpering like it was his first time all over again. 

Once again, she looked angelic with her now curly hair flat against her back and big brown eyes staring at him as she worked him like the expert she was. He came in her with with a groan, his fingers in her hair. She stood to her feet, smiling innocently as she showed him there was no remnant of him left in her mouth. 

“You’re nasty,” he announced, grabbing her jaw to place a sloppy kids on her lips. 

“Mhmmm, just the way I like it.” 

They migrated to her bed shortly after, laying together in a comfortable silence. Anvika’s head was against his bare chest and herfingers traced the tattoos on his body. Lewis’ arm was around her waist and his hand massaged her plump bottom. 

They were tired, exhausted even. But, they fought sleep like children, internally afraid of what the morning would bring. All actions had consequences whether good or bad. It was a mutual hope that what they’d done wouldn’t bring on the latter. 

“Lewis?” Anvika called after some time. 

“Yes, angel?” 

“Are we gonna be okay?” Her voice trembled slightly. They’d crossed a line--a big one. She had wobbled on her boundaries. There was a lot to discuss and a lot to consider. It was an amazing experience, she couldn’t lie, but her biggest fear was that she’d lose him as an important person in her life if reality didn’t set in the way they intended. 

Lewis gave her a squeeze and brought his lips to her forehead. Sensing her worry, he reassured, “We’ll always be okay.” And she believed it.

[seredelgi]

Sweet Punishment

fandom: Attack On Titan/ Shingeki No Kyojin

pairing: Dom!Levi Ackerman x Sub!Fem!Reader, Levi Ackerman x You

summary: Reader's relationship with Levi is everything she could've asked for, he's very sweet and never gets mad at her. There's only one little rule she needs to follow, and when she fails to, then he'll have to punish her.

rating: Mature, 18+

warnings: dom!levi, sub!reader, smut, like a lot, fingering, sex, vaginal sex, dubious consent (she enjoys it tho, believe me), spanking, blood (just a little cut on the lip, but still), unprotected sex (don't try it at home lol), penetration, manhandling (just a tiny bit, she's totally fine) vulgar language?, oh yeah, choking (no passing out), orgasm denial, slight degradation?, idk, this man has me feral, NO SPOILERS

word count: 4.6k

a/n: alright alright, last episode is out, and I'm just in love with Levi so I went down a rabbit hole of smut before deciding to write something down. It's just a scrap, I haven't put much thought in it so keep it in mind. Also, English is not my mother tongue, so go easy on me. Thoughts are in italic

tags: @imlevisoneandonlywife

Part 2

Your boyfriend is just so very good to you that it often makes you question how in the world have you gotten so lucky.

He’s known to be a man of few words, a true soldier, the best in what he does. You’ve never seen him in action, of course, but you’ve heard the stories and the way they’re being told. His subordinates tell them with a glimpse of ecstatic excitement in their eyes, his colleagues with a blatant silent respect. It’s honestly mesmerizing to see the effect he has on people.

But it is nothing compared to the effect he has on you.

You don’t need to see him slaying Titans to know he’s the best. He carries it wherever he goes, whatever he does, he has an aura to him that just draws you in.

And even though he’s perceived by everyone to be just a grumpy man, you get to see his sweetest side. Once Levi gets someone close to his heart, he becomes so severely attached to them that it’s almost suffocating. He showers you with his love and attention, compliments, gifts, simple little signs of his undying devotion towards you. And even though infamously ruthless on the battlefield, you’ve never seen him upset in your regards. Not that you’ve ever given him any reason to be, it’s pretty simple to please him. He’s not even the jealous type, maybe ‘cause he’s way too confident for his own good.

There’s only one little thing that he won’t compromise on.

Since the first time you two have had sex, he’s firmly stated that he wanted to be the only one to pleasure you, that not even you were permitted to relieve the tension on your own. It took you aback a little, but since he’d just managed to make you see stars you agreed.

Honestly, that decision has never truly bothered you that much, he was definitely worth the wait.

But now, as you're home alone waiting for him to get back home, you can’t stop thinking about him, about how good it feels to have him slide inside of you, and pump in and out with that effortlessly relentless pace he usually reserves you so kindly.

You try to focus on each chore you’re on at the moment, but anytime you try your mind seems to wander on its own, and you find yourself aching for him, catching glimpses of the clock hanging in the kitchen, counting down the hours that separate you from seeing him again.

You must be ovulating, ‘cause you feel so damn empty just thinking about him, needing to be filled so desperately it’s almost funny.

“ Just hormones” you huff quietly as you finish washing the dishes “ breathe, y/n”

You’ve never actually considered breaking Levi’s rules, you wouldn’t like lying to him about it. But right now his request just seems so unreasonable.

You eye the door of your bedroom from afar.

He doesn’t have to know.

It’s just one little slip, one little sin to remove a bit of the tension and be able to ease your mind.

For some reason your heart’s racing as you tiptoe silently towards the bedroom, sitting on your bed and sighing as you remember what happened in it the other night. Thinking about it makes you feel incredibly hot between your legs. You can feel your juices stain the white cotton of your panties.

You bite your bottom lip, considering if maybe you should just get up and get back to your chores, maybe put something up in the oven for dinner.

But it’s impossible when all it takes is for you to close your eyes and you can see him, holding you in his arms, leaving humid kisses down your neck, whispering huskily in your ear all the things he wants to do to you.

“ Fuck it” you click your tongue in surrender and place yourself laying back on the center of the mattress.

It’s his fault honestly, for being so ridiculously hot and impossible to wait for. And anyway, he’ll never know. You’ll make it quick. It’s still an hour before he comes back. Plenty of time for you to get off even more than once.

So you lean back and relax.

You close your eyes and he’s there again, looking down at you with hungry eyes, touching you all over your naked body. And as you imagine his touch upon you it’s easy, almost like following his orders, scanning your hands upon the warm skin of your breasts, your fluttering stomach, all the way down between your thighs.

You get rid of your panties, breaths quickening as you can feel his tongue sucking on your hardened nipples. Your whole body is aching so bad just thinking about it, yearning for his hands on you so bad it’s almost bruising.

As you part your legs and gently slip your middle finger between your folds a sudden cry of arousal breaks free from your throat. You just wish it were him touching you, his fingers sliding silently inside of you as you're doing now, gathering your juices before slipping out of your entrance again to bring them toward your clit.

You’re so incredibly wet. He’d surely comment on it if he were here, mocking you for how desperate you look for him. It would be embarrassing if it didn’t turn you on even more. And now that your fingertips are finally massaging your bundle of nerves, that agonizing tension you’ve been feeling all day just gathers in your lower abdomen, ready to let loose.

You’ve been horny all day, so it figures that you’re already so close.

It’s shameful, but it’s true.

Your free hand grips your sheets so hard you think you’ll have to iron them again if you don’t want Levi to notice. But that’s not your concern now. You’re lost in your lust, eyes shut picturing your man sliding inside of you with his cock, whispering all kinds of dirty prayers into your ear. It’s almost as if he’s there.

“ What do you think you’re doing?”

You take a few instants to realize that it’s really him asking you that, flesh and blood in your room, standing by the door and looking at you with the kind of gaze that you’re sure would send any reasonable man a shiver running down their spine.

“ Fuck- Levi” you pant, your hand coming off of you in a spurt, hoping in vain that he won’t comment on it, that he’ll let it slide “ I didn’t hear you come in”

His silver-grey eyes don’t come off of you as you sit at attention, closing your legs and trying to gain some composure. Your mind spins so fast it takes your breath away, your heart stammering loudly in your chest as he clenches his jaw.

He’s standing there, mere meters away from you, his uniform still on, a severe expression darkening his beautiful features.

That’s impossible not to find hot.

“ Yeah, that much was clear” he hums, and by the tone of his voice it’s difficult to determine how actually mad he is, being it the first time you ever break that rule “ So this is what you do when you’re home alone, huh?”

“No it’s not like that, I was just-” you don’t know why you’re so fast at trying to justify yourself when you know full well you haven’t done anything wrong.

You should tell it to him straight. That he doesn’t own you. He might be the best fighter in the known world, a Captain of the Scouts Corp, but that doesn’t give him the right to exert control over your God damn body.

But the words die in your throat. It’s suddenly really hot in there, and you’re still very fucking horny. You’re ashamed to admit that you find yourself quite attracted to this side of him, one you’ve never had the pleasure to fully unravel.

“ Just what? Trying to have fun without me?” he’s finally moving, walking towards the chair in front of your bed, getting rid of his jacket and placing it tiredly upon it.

“ Just warming up for when you came home, honey” you sound so out of breath, and you’re trembling.

You don’t actually think he would do you any harm, and yet his eyes suggest otherwise, his demeanor exudes danger from every pore. If that’s just a hint of the coldness he carries himself into battle with, then it’s no wonder fucking Titans fall at his feet.

“ You know that’s not how it works” his voice is low, steady “ But maybe you need a little reminding”

A hint of mischief lightens up the tension, and he starts walking towards you, slow and lethal like the man you know he is.

“ I didn’t even finish, I swe-”

But you’re cut off by his sudden movement, a quick dash to get a hold of your face, squishing your cheeks together with a hand, he gives you the kind of look that shuts you the hell up and gets that familiar tickle go wild between your legs. You subtly squeeze your thighs together to give your pussy some kind of attention, disobeying right in front of him kind of getting you off now.

“ I’m the only one that can give you pleasure” he almost growls at you, and his hold is so strong it’s bruising you now “ Understood?”

“ Yes, Sir” it’s all you’re able to reply, mind too foggy to gather anything else.

But it looks like he likes it, ‘cause he lets you go, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Levi Ackerman doesn’t smile easily. So you guess you’ll call him that in the bedroom more often.

He sits on the edge of the bed, and you’re almost disappointed, thinking he’s already done with you.

“ Over my lap” he instructs instead “ Now”

You’re kind of confused about what exactly he’s got in mind. But it doesn’t look like a great idea to ask out loud, so you find yourself complying, crawling towards him, legs a bit shaky from the missed orgasm you almost managed to give yourself.

You get within reach of him, not sure how he wants you to position yourself.

“ How do I-”

But you’re cut off again by his hand reaching for your wrist, tugging you forward, and having you stumble upon him, ending up stomach flat against his thighs. You resist the urge to whine in protest, sensing he’s not keen on you speaking up right about now.

You feel the light fabric of your sundress being roughly lifted up your ass, revealing to him your nakedness.

He sits in appreciation of the view in front of him for a few instants, and you’re feeling every nerve-ending on your body standing at attention for what he’s gonna do next.

The first slap makes your heart skip a beat, you hold your breath and close your eyes shut, and somehow you still manage to hold in your cry of pain. It’s sudden and disconcerting, and it kind of feels wrong to stay silent while he takes such liberties with your body, and yet it makes you squirm in your place to feel more.

The stinging that comes from the second one is even better, ‘cause you’ve expected it, and the high that comes next is kind of inebriating to your drunken senses.

Oh God, you’re so down bad for this man you’ll let him treat you like a disobedient child.

With the third one you can’t help yourself, you cry out in pain as the burning sensation gets your insides in a twirl, while the aching between your legs won’t stop growing desperate by the second.

“ I told you couldn’t do it” his voice is hoarse now, the sound of lust tainting it so clearly it only makes you hornier “ Don’t I give you enough pleasure? Enough attention?” he slaps you hard, and yet it’s not hard enough for you to feel the vibrations of your thighs giving you some kind of relief from the tension you’re holding up between your legs “Are you really that needy?”

You muffle a protest, almost crying from how much you feel desperate for him to touch you, but you don’t dare ask.

Luckily it’s like he’s in your mind, ‘cause you feel his hand suddenly stopping from imparting you that sweet punishment, only to make its way between your reddened thighs, finding your liquids covering their insides, and it’s so good to hear a falter of genuine stupor in his voice as he appraises how wet you are from what he’s doing to you “ Fuck, you really are, aren’t you?” he murmurs, and you can almost feel him licking his lips as he comes to touch your hole now, finding it drenched with your juices “ You’re a fucking mess”

You really are. Your liquids are audibly enveloping his fingers as he sinks them deep into you without much effort, your walls sucking him in. You let go of a sigh of pure ecstasy as you finally feel him fill you up as you’ve longed for all day long. It’s not enough, you want his cock balls deep into you, but you don’t think you’re in the position to make any requests right now.

His desire is undeniable at this point, you can feel it poking at your stomach as he starts pumping his fingers into you, so slowly you’re sure he wants to kill you with this fake kindness. Having his erection pressing into you like that is torture too. He must know that’s what you want. Heck, he seems horny enough to give it to you now, and yet he refrains. What is he up to?

“ You’re so fucking spoiled” he comments as his fingers start pumping at a much higher pace, getting to that spot inside of you that he knows how much you like “ Can’t even wait an hour for me to get home, huh?”

You’re so undeniably turned on, and yet some kind of rebellious part of you hates to let him know so blatantly, and has you trying to refrain from making too much noise. But it’s almost impossible. It would be so much easier to say you’re sorry and have him shift back into his normal tender self, but you’re high on this, and it feels like a waste to have it stop right now.

“ What’s this?” he asks, his tone slightly irritated by your sudden attitude, and you have to put all your efforts into stopping yourself from whimpering when his hand slips out of you so suddenly it makes your whole body shiver “ The silent treatment?”

He reaches for your lips with his other hand, the one that’s not covered in your liquids, and he parts them slowly. You’re too slow to realize what he wants to do, and before you know it you’ve got his thumb inside your mouth and the rest of his fingers holding your neck, lifting you from where you lay on top of him, making you look into his dark grey eyes.

“ Apologize now, and I’ll be gentle”

You don’t want gentle. Not anymore. And neither does he. You can see it in his eyes, he’s hungry for more, he just keeps it together better than you ever could.

“ You fon’t- owm’e” your muffled words were meant to sound challenging, but your eyes, you’re sure, they’re begging for him to fuck you, and this facade of yours is practically ridiculous.

You know ‘cause his smirk is chilling, amused by your pathetic attempts at making this interesting, when really, all he wants is for you to beg him to give it to you.

“ We’ll see about that”

He shoves you back down on the mattress, slipping his thumb out of your warm mouth before getting up with his knees pressing down on the bed and going for his belt, and you can’t help your eyes from lingering on his hurried movements as he lowers his pants and boxers just enough that you can see his cock finally popping out, and it’s so hard it’s almost threatening.

You knew he was just as impatient as you were, finding you getting off on your bed with his name probably escaping your lips must’ve been a treat he wasn’t expecting to stumble upon. But seeing it made you even more eager to feel it inside.

He crawls on top of you so that he’s all you can see, but he’s all you can ever see when you’re this horny.

You lunge up towards his lips. He still hasn’t kissed you, and by now it feels natural to want to, but he dodges you, making you almost pout in response.

“ There are no kisses for bad girls”

That’s so unfair you almost give in on the spot, the apology nearly rolling off your tongue so that you can be able to taste his inside of you.

Instead, you start kissing his neck, but he takes you harshly by the throat and presses you hard into the mattress.

Fuck him, he’s playing dirty.

He presses a knee down between yours and has you part your legs so easily it’s freaking frightening. If it weren’t for the fact that he lowered himself upon the skin of your neck, pressing his cock on the center of your cunt you would be complaining to yourself about how much control he has over you. But you like it too much to really care.

He starts kissing your neck slowly, so slowly it feels like torture, and his hips start rutting against your dripping core at the same dangerous pace. He can kill you with all of this, gentle when you want hard fucking and bites and marks to last for days. And yet it’s enough pressure, enough contact to leave you on the edge, enough to feel like crying with frustration. He’s already brought you so close with his hand before, and you almost came on your own before that, you’re practically holding on for dear life at this point.

“ Levi-” you can’t help but sob in his ear, feeling his breath grazing upon your warm skin as he answers you, his voice a delicate purr:

“ Yes?”

“ Please- fuck” you beg, dignity be damned. You’re a whore for this man, who are you even kidding?

“ Please what?” his tip is slowly pushing inside of you, only to slip out again as he teases you, and you think he’s never been so damn cruel to you in bed. It’s intoxicating how much you’re liking it.

“ Please, please, Levi, fuck me” your voice is so distorted by need that it’s practically unrecognizable, and the kind of chuckle that he ghosts upon your skin when he finally decides to stop playing with you would have your blood run cold, wouldn’t it be for the hotness of being surrounded by him with so much desire.

“ As you wish” he only says, before finally sliding his whole length inside of you, one deep thrust and you’re fucking screaming into the void of the room, clinging to his back and begging to the Gods above for it to never stop.

He’s finally fucking you as you wanted, deep thrusts crashing against your aching clit, your juices dripping down on the freshly clean sheets of your bed to create a pool of delicious wetness beneath you two.

He raises, towering over you, and he’s just so damn beautiful that he looks unreal.

“ Apologize” he orders again, this time you can hear the slightest little falter in his voice as he pumps in and out of you without mercy, still holding you down against the mattress by the neck.

Heck no.

You can’t risk this stopping now that you’re finally filled with him, now that you’re so close to getting what you’ve wanted all day.

You find the strength to shake your head no.

You catch a glimpse of indignation glinting in his eyes, something so fleeting it’s gone in an instant, but it’s impossible to feel scared when every single movement of his is sending shivers down your spine, and each thrust against your clit brings you one step closer to fucking paradise.

You’re already so close, and you’re so drunk on pleasure that you’re way past feeling shameful for it. You’re a babbling mess and you just love it.

“ Don’t you dare come” he threatens. His voice rasp, his breaths quicker and you feel something twist inside of you. He can’t do this to you. He can’t play with you like this. It’s simply evil.

“ Please” you whine, your voice a whisper, your eyes teary, his hold on your neck starting to limit the amount of air being able to reach your lungs. You feel like passing out like this would be heaven on earth. But you want to cum first.

He can’t rob you of it, not after all that you’ve let him do to you today. So you’ll come and hope for dear life to be able to refrain yourself from making it obvious.

You can feel your walls clenching around his cock, any thrust of his could be the last one, before-

Fuck. He can’t be serious.

He slipped out while you were almost there.

He’s nuzzling his nose against your neck, leaving little bites on your impatient skin as you cry, only able to complain.

“ I know you too well by now, love” he murmurs silently on your skin, his hand on your throat finally coming off, making you able to breathe in properly “ I can feel when you’re close, you can’t fool me”

He raises his silver-grey eyes upon you, and they’re filled with dark intents, so dangerous that your heart skips a beat.

“ Now apologize” his voice is firm, and his tone is so low it almost feels like a threat. This time, you know, if you don’t he’ll walk away on you. And you can’t have it.

“ I’m sorry” you finally give in, tears running down your cheeks, a pathetic mess, desperate to feel your man filling you up with his cum “ I’m sorry, Levi, please”

He sighs as if annoyed by all of this.

“ Will you ever disobey me again?”

“ Never, fuck- I swear” you’re too fast to shake your head no to that, giving him up any control he wanted over you and your body “ I will never touch myself again, I promise, Captain”

Much like the ‘Sir’ you had uttered before, this too sends a proud little sparkle flying in his irises, and at that he falls apart too, kissing your neck violently and sinking inside of you again, revealing himself just as lost in his desire as you are.

“ You’re so hot when you beg me” he chants upon your skin and you shiver as he bites your neck and sucks onto your tender skin, making you moan his name so loud you’re glad you don’t have any neighbors “ I love it, fuck- I love you”

It’s not often that Levi throws those words at you, and any time he does it feels like you’re golden in his hands, like you’re the last meal for a starved man.

His pace has become relentless, and it’s breaking you apart.

You meet his eyes, and this time around there’s no more coldness in them, no more anger or attitude of any kind, his features have softened underneath the burden of pleasure, and his eyes are so full of love it makes you hold your breath and cross your legs around his waist, keeping him so close you can feel his heart beating underneath his chest.

At times like this you can’t believe he’s yours, can’t believe you get to be fucked by the best soldier humanity has ever seen. You’re blessed. So what if you can’t touch yourself? All of this is just so worth it.

“ Can I kiss you now?” you ask, breathless.

He looks down on you with a hint of stupor, as if he were surprised that right now, a step away from your orgasm, you still look for his lips. And then he crashes down upon you, kissing you as if he hadn’t in years, as if there is no one else in the world.

You’re washed over by a sense of ecstasy, it runs throughout your whole body as you chase your relief, and when you finally break apart, you start shuddering against him, crying his name in his mouth, thanking him for everything he’s making you feel.

“ That’s it” you hear him in the background of your pleasure, praising you upon your feverish skin “ my good girl”

And then he kisses you again, this time violent, ravenous.

As you slowly come down from your high a sudden pain makes you realize he’s bit your lip, and by the drops of red staining his mouth when he parts from you you think he’s cut it, his hand clasping around your neck again, his brows furrowed, his eyes upon you.

“ You’re mine, yeah?”

He asks it with a verge of doubt, a vulnerability he rarely grants himself, usually when it concerns you.

It makes your heart ache and you kiss him again, the ferrous taste of your own blood corrupting the delicious one of his lips. You find it astounding that he even feels the need to ask you this, especially after all that has just occurred, the way you’ve let him dispose of you. Whose else would you ever be?

“ Only yours, Levi Ackerman, always”

“ Fuck- I’m so close” he pants.

“ Cum inside of me” you beg him quietly, and he sets you free of the hold on your neck and crashes down on you, slipping his arms under your shoulders and keeping you so close to him he could probably break you.

“ You want it in your pretty pussy, huh?” he asks, his voice croaking with pleasure, it almost breaks from how close he is.

“ Yes, Sir”

That seems to do it, ‘cause he lets out the kind of groan you’ve learned to recognize as he holds you to him, his movements erratic, his breaths hot and heavy against your neck, through your hair. He slams a hand on the headboard to keep himself steady, and you see his face twist deliciously as he’s overcome with pleasure.

“ Fuck” he swears as you feel his hot seed springing into you, filling you up as you’ve longed for, and it’s just perfect. You love feeling him emptying inside of you, it makes you feel fulfilled. It drives you.

He towers above you for a few more instants, his heavy breaths crashing down on you, lips still red from your blood. Then he comes collapsing beside you, still dressed in his uniform, even though some of his buttons have accidentally been undone in the heat of the moment.

You lay silently for a while, the high of passion slowly taming as you both wrap your heads around whatever has just happened. You’re kind of shocked. You honestly did not think you would be into any of what’s just occurred, but he’s just too hot to be denied.

“ Maybe I should try to masturbate more often” you casually throw the words in the silence of the room, hoping to elicit a laugh from him.

Long shot.

“ Don’t you dare” he threatens instead.