#I don't want to walk this path alone

[vimbry]

[diluc33rpm]

the romance/relationship system in bg3 is genuinely some of the worst designed shit i've ever seen in any game with that feature but at least the memes we get out of it are funny. once saw someone comment something along the lines of 'patch note: waving at gale will no longer cause him to buy a house for the two of you to retire in' and i've never recovered since

[princekirijo]

What is the big difference between regular Riku and black mask Riku? Like what changed in his story to change his motivations and methods?

Thanks for the ask :]

So Black Mask AU (or Black Captain/Dark Captain I haven't entirely settled on a name) is a new game plus AU and that's important to explain the changes in his motivations!

The AU starts exactly the same as Captain, Riku moves to Tokyo, Hatanaka is a piece of shit to him, he meets the thieves and they start investigating her palace. However this time round, something in the palace goes wrong and the thieves end up failing the deadline. And failing the deadline for Hatanaka's palace... results in Riku's death :] (putting it shortly Riku is more useful to her dead than alive so she has him killed)

That should have been the end of him, however he wakes up immediately after getting shot. After being understandably disorientated he realizes he's somehow been transported to 2/3 years prior to the events of Captain (a couple of months before he was due to move to Tokyo) and he has all his memories intact, right up until the point he was shot.

This understandably messes him up a lot because he went through hell and on top of that he remembers everything he learnt during Hatanaka's palace (I won't go into much of that as its spoilers for the main AU). He also decides to go into the Metaverse in Port Island because he still has access to it, and its here he awakens to his black mask persona (Mordred who I ADORE lmao) and where he first kills someone (albeit by accident).

As for his motivations someone put it really well once, spite in general is a huge motivator for Riku in both AUs! Black Mask Riku basically takes the idea of him being motivated by spite to a whole new level, as his main goal in the AU is to get revenge on those who wronged him and who caused his death in the original timeline. He's here and alive in spite of these people and he is sure as hell going to make their life hell.

[zyafics]

CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you

you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if it’s bad, look away!!)

WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb) | x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader

Content — 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks

Word Count — 2.2K

lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller

You always wanted Rafe.

It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everything—toys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.

Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.

Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivals—when you knew Rafe would be watching the door—and marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wear—dresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a preview—and the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.

You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.

At least, in public.

You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.

And he did.

Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving early—as planned—Rafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nod—detached—as if it didn't matter.

It drove him insane.

Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.

Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?

It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe you—for once—are tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.

The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.

And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.

His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.

Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.

"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."

"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"

"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."

You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.

"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."

His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.

"You're not fucking me in a car."

"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.

"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."

He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.

"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."

"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can just—"

"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."

You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.

And what he can do with it.

Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.

That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.

When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you again—needing your lips, needing your taste—while his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.

But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."

So fucking pretentious.

It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wanted—no, needed—to be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.

And he was right.

You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so long—but he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loud—begging him to go faster.

"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."

"R—Rafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.

"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"

"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."

"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"

You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but there’s still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.

You win.

"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."

Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.

"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."

Everything’s so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.

"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.

Yet, Rafe merely grins.

"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

tagging @starkeysprincess bc she saw it first <3

[inkskinned]

it's because the bear wouldn't kill me just for being a woman. the bear doesn't kill me for fun. the bear can be shouted at, and will leave me alone. the bear won't make a tiktok complaining about how i crossed to the other side of the path when i saw him coming. if a bear kills me, it's just being a bear: it cannot understand logic. it is not acting out of malice - just fear or hunger.

bell hooks once wrote about how porches might be the only outside space left for women - it is still the domain of the house while it is also outside-but-safe. when i am in the woods, i am in the bear's home, and he has a right to defend his property. outside spaces - anywhere at night, certain parks in the day - those are often implicitly "owned" by men. i cannot explain the feeling of knowing when you have entered a man's "territory." you walk into a place and just know you are in their space. you get a sick sense - you're in danger.

the other day a group of about 8 men were fooling around in the woods while i walked my dog. i had to go around, take the extra 3 miles just to avoid them. it's okay, i like walking. this wasn't even a #feminism moment. it was just a tuesday.

what a plain and easy question. only one of the situations is seen as a tragic accident. i would rather die and have a park bench erected in my honor rather than have my family questioned about why they let me, an adult, walk in the woods in the first place when i should really be at home in the kitchen.

i worked in retail and food service. i have had women say and do absolutely heinous and abusive things to me - not because i was a woman, but because i was there, and they were angry. the way men treated me when angry was different - it was because i was a woman. you can always feel the difference, how there's an undertone of i'd hurt you worse if i could get away with it. i keep seeing people try to cite stupid statistics. why is there always a strange rage whenever women agree on things? like men can argue their way out of our lived experiences? it isn't a buzzfeed quiz - which of these traumas are you? 10 super cute ways not to fear strange men.

i have actually (thrice!) seen a bear in the wild, by the way. i died each time, obviously, and am a ghost writing to you. (it was scary but completely and utterly fine). the second encounter was a black bear with her cub. she looked at me like - do we have to do this or are we good? my dog was busy sniffing a bush, completely nonreactive. i felt like i was in a sitcom: feminist poet reacts - does she actually mean she'd choose the bear? my only thought was - she's so beautiful. her paws are massive.

and there's a part of me that feels the rage spinning out in a corner. why do we have to come up with quippy little comments in order to teach men empathy. would you rather die in a car accident or due to a mugging? and would you rather your house burn down due to an electrical fire or due to arson? gee willikers - it's almost like we're human people, and want to risk the accident versus the intention.

i would rather my last thought be oh shit, a bear rather than i'm a person too. why doesn't that matter? why don't you care?

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[gender-euphowrya]

you've heard of do it scared and do it alone here comes do it annoyed

[anarkhebringer]

I never knew how big a thing it was back when I was on meds to go "this shit isn't working, I made a list to see what's not chang-I MADE A LIST", I will never take it for granted again dokjihufyh

[targaryenluvs]

OH BABY!

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader

summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭

word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.

a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk -UPDATE HOLY CRAP THERE IS GONNA BE A NEW MOVIW AND BOOKKKSJSNABS

taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye

“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.

as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.

your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.

you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.

as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.

finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.

he practically had you all to himself.

“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.

“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.

your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.

“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.

finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.

“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.

he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.

there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.

how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.

you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.

after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.

“oh isn’t she adorable?”

“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”

“you are precious!”

they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.

in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.

it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.

it was just you and finnick.

“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”

he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.

you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.

“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.

finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.

“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.

“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.

finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.

“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.

the interview went well, in your eyes at least.

caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.

the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.

“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.

“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.

you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.

“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.

“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.

you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.

finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.

you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?

you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.

“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”

the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.

you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.

instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”

the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.

whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.

the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.

your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?

finnick needed to see more.

the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.

such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.

his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.

finnick would tell you right?

“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.

your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.

“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.

for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.

you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.

“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

“yes, here.”

“i’ll make it so good for you.”

“just let me feel you.”

“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.

your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.

only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.

by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?

“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”

his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?

“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.

his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”

“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.

“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.

it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.

as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”

your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.

he wanted to go easy on you.

but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.

the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”

you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.

his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”

but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.

god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.

“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.

“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”

you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.

“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”

he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?

“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.

“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.

“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.

now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?

his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.

a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.

“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.

this man was driven youd give him that.

“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.

“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.

each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.

“wanna make you feel good.”

“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”

when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.

you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.

“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-

smack!

“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.

smack!

you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.

“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.

smack!

“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?

he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.

he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.

“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.

his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.

the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.

the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.

you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.

you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.

[takes1]

bokuto flirting with inexperienced!reader

nobody asked for this but i can't get this idea out of my head. second time i've written a kuroo's little sister thing and it just seems to read well imo?

warnings. nsfw themes, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / kuroo's little sister!reader / touchy!bokuto / flirty!bokuto / corruption kink!bokuto / virgin!reader / nerdy!reader / kuroo cockblocking / house party / protective kuroo / bokuto being a bad friend / bokuto crushing on you / 2.7k nsfw to follow, reply to be added to taglist

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. my request box. part two here. part three here.

"The guys are comin' over at twelve." Tetsurou informed you with a flat tone. He didn't even look up from his phone as he swiped a banana from the counter.

"Don't care."

Your parents were gone on another business trip, meaning this weekend was a free for all. Your version of fun wouldn't sway far from your usual path, staying up, playing games on your laptop after you were done studying for finals; your older brother gravitated towards more social hobbies.

"Sooo, like," He spared a glance to see what you were doing, "Fuckin' scram. Before then."

Papers, handouts, and notebooks littered the breakfast counter. Your laptop played an educational video from one of your classes and you had propped your phone to look at another online text. One highlighter hit the floor a while ago but you hadn't picked it up yet.

When you didn't acknowledge him, completely in the zone, he scrunched up his nose.

"Did you hear me, dumbass?"

"Shuuuut-the-fuck-up-I'm-doooiiing-somethiiing."

In a colored pen, you inked in a corresponding bar from a practice problem so you could visualize the axes.

If you had checked the time, you would know you had maybe ten minutes before twelve to 'scram.'

One could smell the attitude coming off of him from a mile away. Though he didn't say anything to you, it was made crystal clear in the way he sucked his teeth at you and shoved a chair before he walked upstairs.

It wasn't, and would never be, explicitly spoken, but the reason he didn't want you around was because he knew some friends were just too weird around girls. Kenma was the only friend he trusted to be alone in a room with you, and that was because he didn't like anyone. The roster of guys coming over to play some Xbox, play a match in the backyard, drink up your parents' liquor, and sleep over could've been a suspect line if was asked to judge their moral character.

Your slow, neat line of pen for your next graph became a scribbled mess in less than a second as the doorbell started ringing in a slew of rapid presses.

DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING

"Get the door!" You yelled to the stairway, frustration waning only after a nasty sigh.

There was too much to move to your room. You didn't have enough space on your desk for a spread like this, even if you moved every current thing off of it.

Footsteps padded swift back down the steps, not even getting the opportunity to do what he intended to upstairs, and he jabbed a finger at you but you couldn't see.

"Hey!" He shouted. Like he was offended you raised your voice at him to grab the door.

You slammed your palms on the counter and took a breath to yell, just before he called to you from the door, incredibly stern, "Fuck off somewhere else."

"Get the stick out of your ass!" You rolled your eyes and, then and there, decided to not move for anything.

Tetsurou gritted his teeth and pulled open the door, but it didn't nothing to stop Bokuto from pressing the doorbell. Next to him was Akaashi, patiently watching the button-pressing. It was raining, so that meant no practice match; they would have to stay entertained inside.

His big, cheesy grin was hardly a relief, "Hey hey heyy, buddyy!"

"Hey," He said, distracted, thinking about how disastrous this might turn out. He wondered if it was too late to reserve space in the gym, or even cancel.

"Woah-ho-ho," Bokuto giggled at his less-than-enthusiastic greeting and squeezed past him, unwilling to wait outside for any longer, "Don't sound so excited!"

The big, hulking presence stopped in the doorway, hastily removing his wet jacket and shoes. He retold the events of getting here in the rain, sparing Akaashi a few seconds in between to fix his embellished details. He was speaking to Tetsurou at such a volume that you had to search for your earbuds to drown his loud mouth out.

DINGDINGDINGDINGDING--

Maybe all of his stupid friends would ring the bell the same way. Thankfully, he was right there to open it and tell the next two groups to stop.

Soon, your living room was filled with almost all of Nekoma (only a few of which you could recognize from the handful of his games you had attended), and some guys you had never seen before.

It got so loud, so fast.

Your stubborn streak wasn't serving you well. Despite the separation you got from the one wall between you and the entryway, all the sound still poured into the kitchen through the open layout. Your technology wouldn't hold up to how loud a bunch of high school guys could get.

Tetsurou slinked into the kitchen, slow, quiet despite you both staring at each other.

He slid next to you, elbow scrunching one of your precious papers. He had that shitty, low-lidded smirk on his face.

Another boisterous laugh sounded through from the other room and your wince was only proof of your predicament. It sounded like they were fighting, or wrestling, or something that needed to be done outside.

He whispered, "Are you ready to give up?"

"Once you drop dead," You whispered back, clicking your pen ready.

His nostrils flared at your resilience. "You aren't even studying--,"

"Sooo! Where's all that liquor you promised, Kuroo?"

You watched your brother freeze up at the new voice coming into the kitchen. It was genuine distress that flashed across his face for half a second - you wouldn't have had the chance to see it, if he wasn't so up in your business. You turned just in time to watch a guy who didn't go to your school strut in.

"Woah!" He looked straight past your brother, right to you, "Who's thiiis?"

Tetsurou put his hand on your shoulder, something he never did, so you brushed it off as he started, "This is my--,"

"Heyy, Pretty," Bokuto sang just to you, big eyes trailing up, down, and back again, blatantly ignoring his friend.

You laughed at the interaction between them and his nickname for you. He was super hot. It left your brother impatient.

He closed the distance to shake your hand, unable to keep his eyes on just your face.

"This is my little sister," Tetsurou asserted, louder, this time.

The palm on the guy was so huge that you couldn't grip it. His hand could've easily crushed yours but he chose to shake it gently, then held it with both hands when he closed more distance.

"Hmm," He chuckled, "Hey, little sister. My name's Bokuto, but you can call me Ace."

You told him your name in an enamored giggle- biting your lip when he cupped his ear to hear it again, so you repeated it, surely less intelligible.

"(Y/n)?" He asked, jovial, like he was trying to make you keep laughing. He succeeded, "That's nice, but I like Pretty better."

Tetsurou moved himself between you, not a big enough presence to make Bokuto stop touching you or talking in the slightest.

"It suits you, yeah?"

Your brother cleared his throat so loud that it sounded cartoonish. Your fingers slipped from his hand, despite his attempts to keep them all to himself, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking down and away. His anger was tangible.

Tetsurou stepped in front of you and faced him. They went just outside of the open doorway. It left you to clean up your papers, laptop, pens, highlighters, books. He muttered many things, but you only caught:

"You serious?" Met with: "Relax, dude!"

"Do I need to worry about you the whole fucking weekend, bro?" Answered with: "Obviously not!"

"This is a line. Don't- don't cross it." Satisfied with: "Have some faith in me, bud, come on."

His friend drama wasn't your problem, but it was oh-so-entertaining to listen to. You fixed up your belongings very slowly so that when they came back, you didn't look so suspicious.

To your dismay, only Tetsurou came back in. He squinted at your gathered things.

"Good. Go upstairs," He said, so simple, with half of his attention on you, half on his friends horsing around in the living room, as if it was normal- as if you had ever tolerated him speaking to you like that before.

You threw a pen at his face, laughing loud with pure delight when it left a streak on his jaw. You had incidentally left it open.

There were few times you had seen him so indelibly angry.

The speed at which he nabbed the pen off of the the floor and hurled it back at you was worthy of a world-record. You only managed to dodge it because you knew what he was going to do before he did.

It shattered on the cupboard, ink exploding all over the floor, staining the counter.

There was almost no time to make a smartass comment, because as soon as you conjured one and inhaled to say it, something crashed in the living room. It sounded eerily mother's-favorite-vase-like.

He was teeming with contempt.

You didn't say anything back when he held his hand up, silently forbidding you from following him to investigate the now-silent room.

It was all his fault, when you thought about it. He dug his grave, since he decided on his own to have all of his rowdy friends over. It wasn't on you that he broke a pen, his friends broke a vase, and his best friend was so sweet to you in the first thirty minutes of the weekend starting.

While you could have left the mess for him to clean up, you didn't want to go upstairs just yet. Once you did, you'd have to justify coming back down. So, you pulled out some cleaning supplies under the sink and started picking up the little sharp plastic pieces of pen.

"Woah, what happened in here?"

You perked right up at the voice, somehow embarrassed to be found like this.

Bokuto threw a look over his shoulder before he fully came in. When he decided to enter, a big smile took up his whole face, making all his handsome features super friendly-looking.

He wasted no time sliding over the tile to squat next to you and inspect the damage.

"Tetsurou threw a pen," You said, quiet, avoiding his attentive stare.

He shook his head, disapproving, and started collecting the pieces with you. He gladly took your hand in his so he could place them in your palm. It was so unnecessary, but it made you giggle again.

"You like studying?" His head dipped to see more of your face, eyes bouncing around to take in all of your features.

It made you shy away and stand to throw the pieces out. But he followed just to watch you, amused at your mannerisms.

"Not really-," You squeezed past him, beginning to spray at and wipe off the ink, sparing a glance to your stuff on the counter, "I mean, there is something nice about it- but,"

Bokuto was too entranced by your lips to properly listen to you ramble. He glanced up to your eyes only on occasion, otherwise sporting an intense stare at your cute mouth, or the way you used your already busy hands when you spoke.

Soon you had told him too much, and there was no ink to clean up anymore, so you returned to sit on the stool next to the counter.

"I didn't know Kuroo had a sister," He sighed.

He chose not to sit, but to stand over you, just so that you had no option but to look up at him.

"Especially not one so cute," His knuckle grazed your warm cheek as you smiled at the floor, "God, you really are such a cutie, huh? You got a boyfriend?"

Your body braced at his touch. He took a step forward, one hand on the counter behind you.

"Mm-mm," You tried to meet his eyes, but it was impossible.

Staring at his body wasn't a bad deal, though. His shirt fit him nice and tight at the shoulders, then loosened, a little flowy at his waist thanks to his impressive build.

"That's good," His fingers dipped to your chin, gently bringing your face to look at him.

This you could only stand for a moment or two. You pushed his forearm down so he would stop touching your face, making you look this way and that.

He sighed, keeping his arm near you in case you wanted to keep your hands on him, but once he understood it wouldn't happen, he put it on the other side of you.

"I've- never had a boyfriend," You admitted, breathless at the pressure of such proximity.

It was mostly as a way to excuse your bashfulness, in partial hopes that he didn't take your hesitation as a sign of rejection.

You loved the attention. It was difficult to keep up with, but it didn't mean that you didn't want it.

His knuckles were white against the counter behind your back. His breath shallowed out. He had a hard time catching it, left recovering from the carnal reaction to such a perfect opportunity sitting before him.

All he heard was the chance to be unrivaled- a white knight of the bedroom, in a sense. To drag out that cute, adoring look on your face for as long as it took to break you in. His jaw tensed, his friendly smile faltering at the thought of what he could show you, teach you, be the very first to do to you.

He grinned, "No wonder he wants to keep you locked up, then."

♕VIP♕

@integers @yuchacco

my masterlist. my request box.

reply to be added for future parts!

[genderqueerdykes]

poverty is so isolating. it means being alone and away from people, events, society. you can't afford trips to and from places. you can't afford to spare gas. you can't afford the entrance fee. you can't afford tickets. you can't afford making eating a social event. you can't buy drinks. you can't engage in hobbies.

all you're encouraged to do are "free" things, but they're not free. Internet isn't free. cell phone service isn't free. sitting on the computer and your phone all day is frowned upon for good reason because it destroys your health. we shouldn't have to only be able to talk to people digitally to be able to socialize. we shouldn't have to watch streams all day. we need to see other people, i DON'T care if it costs a few dollars: poor people shouldn't be relegated to what few free activities there are because most of them involve being alone.

the library is one of the most annoying suggestions because it makes you feel pinned. yes i want to support my local library. i cannot sit still and read in public. it is not socially acceptable to start taking to strangers in the library in fact you can't have conversations there at all because you need to be quiet for the other readers. libraries are places of education, accessibility to information and resources, and social services. it is not a place to socialize. maybe entertain but Only if you can, well, read. i have dissociative disorders and unmedicated ADHD, i don't make it very far into books. i feel like most poor people get really tired of the library suggestion. it's an amazing resource. but it's not for this purpose

social events are almost always off limits. sure you can go to the bar and not drink, if you don't have alcohol trauma, aren't a recovering alcoholic, aren't overstimulated by noise, aren't photosensitive, don't have anxiety with crowds and strangers, aren't a minor, have an ID, and can walk there or get a ride there. sure you can walk to the cafe and use their Wi-Fi but this isn't a social activity and in many places you can't sit there for long periods unless you buy anything.

i get SO tired of the "go to a cafe" suggestion. think about how boring that actually is. you're alone. in America, it is NOT socially acceptable to sit at a strangers table like it is in other countries, let alone just start talking to them. it is NOT a common experience to strike up a conversation with strangers in cafes in America, like we really have cafes other than fucking starbucks to begin with.

going for walks and going to parks is not accessible to people with physical disabilities, agoraphobia, some schizophrenics, people with dog trauma, and other issues. parks usually have really poorly maintained or no sidewalks or foot paths. they can be uneven and hard to traverse for people who use mobility aids. unless you live near a monument or state park, your local parks are really meant for dogs to piss and shit in, for joggers to run through, and to look impressive to investors. they're usually pathetic swaths of grass with you guessed it, nothing to do. again it's rare to strike up conversation at the park. people need conversation starters. there's Nothing going on at the park. it's a great place to go if you need to cool down when angry or stressed, but it's fucking boring.

window shopping is pointless and dehumanizing. i really can't stand it when people suggest poor people window shop so we can think about things to buy when we have money ... why the fuck would i ever do that. when i don't have money i don't think about frivolous things i don't need. what the fuck kind of activity is window shopping, that's for people who have money.

poor people get tired of doing the "free" shit. if you suggest that a poor person should do these things when you do none of them yourself, you have 0 clue how boring and dehumanizing it is to never be able to decide what you do with your time. to have limited options to live. to experience.

money is not the reason you get to experience; you get to experience because you are alive. no poor people don't deserve to sit there and do nothing all day because they didn't "earn" anything. no poor people don't deserve to live their lives because they don't make as much as you. poor people deserve to enjoy being alive. poor people get to decide to have fun with their money, too.

I'm so tired of people being so harsh on people who struggle with financial issues and spending money "right" or "smart". reckless spending and difficulty managing finances are symptoms of mental illness and neurodivergence. bipolar, personality disorders, schizophrenia, anxiety, autism, ADHD, OCD and other mental health conditions can make managing funds very hard. don't be extra cruel to someone who spends money poorly in response to a mental health crisis. this won't make their situation any easier.

i sat in apartment after apartment for a decade doing nothing. i was a total shut in because i had no money. i never did anything but browse the Internet. all day long. without end. i was dissociating constantly. my anxiety was at its highest. i was constantly psychotic. instead of going out to fix it, i would stay inside longer, making it worse and worse and worse. i never bought anything. i didn't have hobbies. all of my decorations and possessions were from my childhood, my clothes were literally falling apart, a decade old. my walls were barren. my world was grey.

don't do this to yourself. don't tell yourself that you deserve nothing because it's harder for you to make money than other people. I'm very lucky now that i have made friends who pulled me out of my shell and have helped me get outside of my house. i spent so long alone and trapped indoors thinking it's the only thing i could do with myself for years. I'm finally recovering. if you're poor you deserve to live. you're alive. and you're not alone. i love you.

[agatalunar]

· . ˚ *  * How do others perceive you? · . ˚ *  *

it would be a pleasure for me if you let me know if the reading resonated with you so do not hesitate to send me a message, comment or reblog, it will make me immensely happy

choose the gif with which you feel most connected/attracted

Pile 1… 2… 3…

⠀〜 Pile 1

Cards: king of wands, the moon, the justice, eight of cups

You are afraid that others will see who you really are and others notice this, they see potential in you but for some reason you don't dare to express it. You have a lot of light inside you but something stops you, you have an infectious laugh. It's as if you wanted to be a rockstar but in your environment you avoid being perceived, there is no balance between what you want and what you do. Others perceive that you hide, but... why do you do it?

You may think that you don't stand out in the crowd, but it's quite the opposite. No matter how basic you dress or how little you speak, you always have eyes looking at you and admiring you.

It's like you're a greek goddess/god trapped in the body of a mere mortal, there's a potential in you that others perceive; little by little take control of that potential, play with makeup and clothes, play with the way you walk and act, you have a mesmerizing aura that others can't resist. Don't be afraid of being perceived. Don't let fear take away your path to success, the world is waiting for you. I don't even know you but I love your energy, you are a star baby!! The world needs an icon of freedom and authenticity like you.

The vibe you bring to the function:

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Luces de Nueva York by Sonora Santanera, Hold me tight by BTS, “can you trust me?”, wear a lot of black, having hair up/short, redhead, 11, 18, Endlessly by Kali Uchis, “watch me with your eyes”, Chappell Roan, Vanity by Christina Aguilera, 1920, 🏳️‍🌈, queer, 888, Bjork, feminine power, “who’s the real me?”, Villain by PIXY, have an audience, fill stages

⠀〜 Pile 2

Cards: ace of wands, king of cups, queen of swords and nine of cups

You don't let others take power over you, others notice the limits you set and that can sometimes intimidate them. You're like that person at the party that everyone wants to talk to but they don't because you have such a strong energy, they love to admire you. No matter how you identify, you have a super well-balanced masculine and feminine energy.

Others love your hair, the way you move when you dance, you may really like silver jewelry or accessories, animal print? Others notice that you have a very mature energy, they perceive you as someone responsible and who knows what they want in life, you are an extremely attractive person, you are such a beautiful human being that your beauty imposes

You love spending time alone or at least you know that your happiness doesn't depend on others, it only depends on you. Although maybe the only thing you haven't completely healed is the fact of feeling vulnerable with someone else, and yes, I'm talking about loving connections. Let your soul feel what it's like to be in love, let someone like you. Don't let the fear of being sensitive take away the possibility of creating deep and beautiful connections.

The vibe you bring to the function:

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Heavens on fire by KISS, 9, Lo que Paso Paso by Daddy Yankee, Can’t get you out of my head by Kylie Minogue, scary beauty, Never say never by The fray, When loves is around by Zayn (feat.Syd), dance to transmute energy, 🐆, 🤎, black hair, Bad girl by WOOAH, Lest fall in love for the morning by Finneas, Hey Ma by Pitbull, You should be dancing by Bee Gees, fast and furious, She’s not afraid by One Direction

⠀〜 Pile 3

Cards: knight of coins, seven of wands, eight of cups and the death

You have a very calm energy, others perceive you as a peaceful person, you have very diverse tastes.

You are a very beautiful person but you don't notice it? Or you just don't give it any importance. Others love spending time with you because your presence attracts calm, you love to see the sky, you probably meditate or you like philosophy and reading a lot, you like to write. They love you because you are not one to criticize, you just want to take it easy, you understand that each individual goes their own way.

Somehow I feel that you have the gift of transmuting the energy of others, the negative energy of the world, you do it automatically so take good care of yourself, rest and eat well. You are like a teacher of life, possibly your soul is an old soul. You let others know a lot about your tastes, your personality and your law of life but you don't let them get too close to your personal life, I don't see it as something bad but understand that there are people in the world that you can trust, not all of them are selfish or bad.

The vibe you bring to the function:

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Sagittarius, air sign, indie kid, Sex, drugs, etc by Beach Weather, alternative music, lying on the grass/admiring the scenery, the pandemic is significant in your life, viral music from tiktok or music from 2019-2021, I love it by Charlie XCX, kpop, Work - Rihanna, Break free by Ariana Grande, diary, Emma Chamberlain, 5, goblin/fairy vibe, Doja Cat, “talking bad is not my style”

Thanks for your time and energy, I hope you liked it <3

[hgfictionwriter]

First Time

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You and Jessie meet at UCLA and have been together a couple of months, but still haven't been intimate. In fact, she's never been intimate with anyone. But when your roommate is out one night, she might finally experience her first time.

Warnings: G!P content. Dry humping Simulated intercourse. Premature ejaculation. Cunnilingus. Penetrative sex. Loss of virginity. Unprotected sex. Praise kink. Language.

A/N: In response to this request. Virgin Jessie - shy, nervous, but just oh so eager to please. Happy holidays!

Jessie gave your hand a small squeeze as you walked across campus together. A bashful smile crossed her face at the way you turned your head towards her with a hint of surprise before giving her a warm smile and laugh. You giggled softly as you leaned in for a quick peck on her cheek mid-step.

"You are too cute," you told her as you faced forward once more.

"I just had a good night with you," she said as she reflected on the sunset picnic you'd had together at a nearby park. She released a quiet sigh as you approached the juncture in the path that signaled the end of your evening together; her dorm one direction, yours the other.

You stood together, your arms now resting across the back of her shoulders in a comfortable embrace. Jessie felt her face growing hot before she'd even begun speaking.

"Uh, my roommate's home tonight. Love her, but, it kinda sucks. Don't get me wrong, I love our dates," she gestured between herself and you as her eyes were affixed to the cement below, "and exploring the city together, but it would be kind of nice sometimes to have our own space? You know?" She shook her head quickly with a nervous chuckle as she looked back up at you. "I'm probably not making any sense."

You leaned in a gave her a sweet, chaste kiss, calming her nerves immediately.

"Good news. My roommate is at a party tonight. She probably won't be home until late," you told her.

Jessie's face lit up before she quickly quelled her excitement. She automatically assumed that meant she'd come over, but she shouldn't assume.

You laughed, giving her another quick kiss.

"Want to come over?"

Or maybe she could assume.

"Yeah. Sure. That'd be great," Jessie replied, trying not to sound too eager.

Though you'd been together a couple of months now, between the nature of her schedule and the realities of your living situations, there really was very little time where it was you two alone and in private. A night like this was rare.

In your dorm, you sat down on your bed and patted the spot next to you, inviting Jessie to sit down instead of standing awkwardly several feet away like she was.

"What do you want to do?" You asked as you leaned back on your hands and looking far too tempting. Jessie sat stiffly rubbing her already-sweaty palms against her jeans. She cleared her throat, glancing at you over her shoulder before looking away despite her efforts.

"Um, anything," she said before forcing a smile and looking at you once more.

"You're my guest," you countered with a smirk as you sat back up and nudged her with your shoulder, "it's up to you."

Jessie laughed, feeling the tension of the moment - whether it was solely in her head or not - settling all throughout her body as she nudged your leg with hers. "No, it's not up to me."

"Mm, I think it is," you said easily as you shifted slightly towards her, your knee coming up onto the bed as you tucked your foot under you. You held her gaze and it felt so intense to her in the best way possible.

"I want to do whatever you want to do," she offered with a shrug, turning slightly towards you on the bed now as well.

You held her gaze a moment longer before finally exhaling with a soft huff and looking away, an affectionate smile lingered on your face.

"Well, we don't get much time alone, so...," you trailed off as you slowly leaned in, capturing Jessie's lips. She smiled into the kiss.

The kisses started of very chaste, but things shifted just so as Jessie allowed her hands to ever so slightly wander; a hand gently cupping the side of your neck, her thumb softly caressing your jawline and her other hand toying with the hem of your shirt. You reciprocated, a thumb caressing her collarbone and your other hand on her knee.

Your tongue began to explore her lips and mouth and Jessie remained steady. Even if things didn't progress much, she could feel herself starting to get hard within her jeans. If you noticed, you didn't let on.

Jessie wanted to explore so much more, but you didn't make a move, so she didn't either. It was only a matter of time until you pulled back with a soft smile and rest your head on her shoulder.

She sat tensely, very keenly aware that although jeans gave some concealment, you could probably still very much see the bulge in her pants.

"Want to watch a movie?" You asked, getting up off of the bed without waiting for an answer.

"Y-yeah," Jessie stammered, still trying to be present in the moment and will her erection away. She looked around quickly and saw a throw pillow at the edge of your bed and laid it across her lap.

You returned with your laptop and coaxed her to the wall so you could both lean back and watch the movie. She couldn't help but notice how you very politely didn't acknowledge the pillow across her lap.

She sat there awkwardly at first as the movie started, but soon put her arm around you and you cuddled in. You both initiated light caresses throughout and it did nothing to help her with her arousal. It was nearly painful now and she honestly had no clue what was going on in the film. All she could think about was every touch, every movement, and her mind was creating an entirely different movie inside of her head.

Outside of Jessie being on the receiving end of a few fleeting, but heated kisses throughout your relationship, things hadn't gotten much more serious physically. What happened tonight is about as far as you ever got.

Jessie didn't know what to expect, really. She'd never dated before. She was never around in high school, so building that kind of a connection would've been difficult to begin with. And God knows she was even shyer back then, so between how young she always looked compared to the other girls and how she fell apart around anyone she had a crush on, it was no surprise that she was never seen as more than a friend.

Now, in uni, she was still shy - there was no denying that - but between her growing role on the national team, her role here on the Bruins and just exploring this new phase of her life, her confidence had grown. So though her nerves were rattling as she talked to you the first few times in class, she got through. She made you smile, made you laugh, impressed you with her smarts, and was over the moon when you gave her your number.

As you planned out your first date, she sheepishly admitted she wasn't entirely sure what to plan - she'd never been on a real date before.

It was embarrassing to her, frankly. Being in her second year - no serious romantic experiences to speak of, no girlfriends, and certainly no sex. All of her friends had lost their virginity and were, how should she put it, very confident and experienced in that department by now. And one would think she would be too given her athletic status, but that just wasn't her.

You'd been a little shocked initially. Bashful now in your own right over your own experience and history. Jessie profusely interjected - telling you there was nothing for you to be embarrassed about or feel ashamed about. You're beautiful, you're charming, you're smart - of course you'd have past relationships and experience. She joked she'd just need you to be patient with her.

"We'll take it slow," you'd promised with a sweet and caring kiss.

But now, two months in. Jessie regretted her joke. You'd really taken it to heart and now she felt like it was entirely upon her to push things forward. She didn't know where you stood - if you wanted more already or not and she didn't know how to proceed. She'd dropped hints - like tonight - and you didn't reciprocate the way she wanted.

So she worried. And fretted. And ultimately never pushed further.

Time went by achingly slow as the movie continued. Jessie couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in place as her member throbbed with want. You weren't even really doing anything - nothing explicit, certainly, but she wanted you so bad even a feathery touch sent goosebumps flaring across her skin.

"You okay?" You asked.

"Yeah," she assured you with a tight smile.

"You can move if you aren't comfortable," you told her.

"Oh, no," she dismissed with a rapid shake of her head and another reassuring smile. "It's not that. I mean - I'm not uncomfortable. I-I like being with you."

You chuckled, a faint smirk on your face as you kissed her cheek sweetly. "I like being with you, too."

As the movie continued and you drew faint, teasing circles on her collarbone and the odd fleeting breath hit the sensitive skin of her neck, she clutched the pillow in her fists and clenched her jaw, nearly grinding her teeth together.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked.

Jessie found herself letting out a slow exhale, keeping her eyes fixed on the screen.

"Yep, I'm good," she said almost curtly though flashed you a quick smile after. You frowned.

"You don't seem comfortable. I can give you some space if that's it," you said.

Jessie couldn't help the bewildered, frustrated laugh that escaped her as she looked up at the ceiling.

"No - that's, that's really not it," she said, feeling now like she could explode out of her own skin with the tension that had mounted in her body. She scratched at the side of her head as she struggled to figure out what to do.

"I, um," she stammered. She shifted, feeling compelled to stand up and get away, but quickly realized she couldn't - not without the tent in her pants being fully on display once more.

"Babe, what's wrong?" You asked, now looking genuinely concerned.

Jessie buried her face in her hands with a shake of her head. She dropped them heavily onto the pillow and let her head fall back against the wall with a dull thud.

"I'm just...yes. A bit uncomfortable," she eventually admitted, feeling immense heat radiating off her face. She could only imagine how red she must be.

"Um, well, is there anything I can do?" You asked tentatively.

She laughed. "No. I um," her mind attempted to conjure up the best response but she landed with another, "no." She caught the perplexed frown you shot her.

"Well, you seem unsettled. If I'm making you uncomfortable I'm really sorry," you told her as you sat back a bit.

She sighed before letting her head roll to the side to give you a frown of her own while she did her damnedest to push down the embarrassment that flooded her system. "Come on, you know."

"I-what?" You asked with a deeper frown.

Jessie sighed once more and ran a hand roughly across the back of her neck as her gaze settled on the blankets of your bed.

"It's nothing bad," she eventually settled on saying, mustering a look to you before flitting away again. "Least I don't think so."

"Okay. Now I'm really confused," you said. You took a small breath. "I wish you'd tell me."

Her face felt hot as ever as she laughed lightly and looked up to the ceiling once more.

"I just find you very, very attractive. So. I'm struggling a bit right now."

"Oh." You said simply. She studied you, but your expression was unreadable.

"I'm sorry," Jessie breathed, shifting slightly as she scratched at her temple. "That's so awkward. And we said we'd go slow. And I don't want to pressure you-"

"Pressure me?" You asked, voice rising in confusion and swiftly ending Jessie's ramblings.

"Well, yeah," she stammered slightly while offering you a faint smile. "I know I asked you to be patient with me. But that also means I don't want to push you at all. I mean, just because I'm-I'm...," she inadvertently looked down at the pillow in her lap, "whatever, doesn't mean we have to-"

"You aren't pushing me at all," you told her calmly. A hint of a smirk played at the corner of your mouth. "I'm...waiting on you." You held your hand up quickly. "No rush! I'm happy to take our time. But. Whenever you're ready. I'm ready."

She shot you a somewhat bewildered look. "Seriously?" She blushed as you couldn't hold back a laugh. She frowned. "I just meant you haven't initiated anything!"

"Why would I?" You returned, folding your arms across your chest playfully. "I know it would be your first time, so I thought we were letting you set the pace."

She blew a raspberry, blushing at the action before shooting you another tempered glare. "Well I could've used some encouragement! I just thought you weren't interested in more yet. You didn't reciprocate any-" she gestured aimlessly for a second, "you know."

"I reciprocated," you said pointedly, though still smirking at her. "Whatever you did, I reciprocated. But I didn't push further. It's important to me that you be entirely comfortable. I didn't want you to feel like we had to do more until you were ready. Hence, letting you set the pace."

A groan escaped her throat and she let her head fall back against the wall with another thud. She closed her eyes in frustration and mild regret for a moment before opening them and looking at you with a sheepish smile.

"Well. I'm..."

"...what?"

She gave an exaggerated shrug and a fleeting glance. "Ready."

You nearly snorted. "That didn't exactly sound enthusiastic." You laughed once more. "I'm looking for enthusiastic consent."

"Oh my God," Jessie complained as she dropped her hands into the pillow heavily once more. "You're going to kill my 'enthusiasm' with criticisms like that."

You gasped dramatically and Jessie's gaze snapped over to you.

"Just what every girl wants to hear," you teased.

"No, wait, I'm sorry," she offered as she adjusted her spot on the bed, facing you more fully, still keeping the pillow firmly in place. You seemed to be joking, but she felt compelled to reassure you either way. "I was just kidding. You never have to worry about that. I, uh," she glanced away playing with the seam of the pillow distractedly, "often, you know, struggle to," she cleared her throat, "contain myself around you." She felt heat rising in her cheeks once more and she went on in a rush. "I don't mean that disrespectfully at all. I meant it as a compliment. But now I'm hearing it and-"

"Babe," you cut her off as you reached up to hold her face in your hands. She stopped as your eyes searched hers. "it's okay. I understand. I was just teasing you. And I don't feel at all like you're disrespecting me. In fact," you gave a slight tilt of your head, "you can consider me flattered."

Jessie digested your words and eventually gave a couple of slow nods.

"So," you started. You lowered your hands, one landing to rest on her lower thigh. "[y/roommate] is out. She won't be back for hours - if at all tonight, to be honest. Do you want to...?"

Jessie swallowed. After so many years and countless dreams, it seemed the moment might actually be here.

"I-If you want to."

You gave her a look and a single shake of your head. "Do you want to. It's not enough if I just want to."

She nodded, maintaining your gaze. "I do." She chuckled, unable to stop herself. "Most definitely."

You gave her a soft smile. "Okay." You leaned in and kissed her slow, similar to how you'd done several times before, but this time it felt different. Jessie barely stopped the moan that nearly bubbled up her throat.

"You don't need this, then," you said gently as you picked up the pillow by its corner and pulled it away from her. Habit almost made her grab it and hold it back, but instead she let you move it away.

This time, unlike any other time before, you didn't politely avert your gaze from her bulge; you stared unabashedly. She couldn't help but shift slightly under your gaze and she cleared her throat.

"Don't worry," you told her, "I like what I see already." Surprise washed over her as suddenly you lifted yourself up and swung a leg across her to straddled her thighs. "I can't wait to see more."

Jessie just stared up at you speechless, though thankfully her body at least know how to react and her hands came to rest on your hips.

"Is this okay?" You asked. It took her a second, her throat dry, before she nodded.

"Yeah." A crooked smile tugged at her lips. "I love it."

You captured her lips in a heated kiss, this time your hips slowly started to grind upon her. Her breath shuddered and her eyes flew open at the sensations that shot through her.

Holy shit.

She stared up at the ceiling, a slight panic coming over her at the realization that there was a very real chance of her blowing her load before you'd even taken her pants off. If you were deterred by how she paused, you didn't show it, instead you tilted your head and began to start kissing down the side of her neck.

She remained still under your touch, her eyes falling shut now. A couple of small whimpers escaped despite every effort to suppress them.

"If you want me to stop, please tell me. We can stop at any time," you told her as you continued to kiss her neck and rock your hips against the hard bulge in her jeans. "I'm serious."

Jessie opened her mouth several times, but nothing came out. She merely nodded to start, eventually saying, "I-I don't want you to stop."

"Then I won't," you said simply, a lilt in your voice as your hands began to wander down her chest.

"Oh God," she said, again, cursing the inability to control her reactions. Her hips began to now push back into yours and her hands pushed under your shirt, a small moan nearly escaping at the feel of your warm skin under her touch.

You moaned against her neck and her fingers instinctively dug into your skin. The sound of your moan immediately burned itself into her brain and she decided right then and there that she wanted to hear that sound again and again.

Her mouth hung open as she breathed heavily while you continued to patiently explore.

"You feel so good already," you told her as you rocked against her restrained member.

"Oh God," she said once more and eyes slammed shut as she tightened her grip on you, pushing against you to the point of holding you in place.

You paused and she forced her eyes back open to see you looking down at her in concern.

"I, um, no, it's- I just." She took a moment to breath. "I'm seriously going to - you know. I just need a second. I'm so sorry."

To her surprise, a wicked grin crossed your face and you kissed her hard.

"You have no idea how hot that is," you told her unequivocally.

"Really?" She said with a near glare and blatant skepticism. "Because I'm pretty sure that's what girls make fun of most of the time."

"Not me," you responded, unbothered. "The thought of you cumming just from me being on top of you like this? Gorgeous. That is so sexy."

Jessie was ready to offer a rebuttal when you shifted off of her, giving her some greater reprieve.

"We can save that for another time though," you said benevolently. "For now..."

Jessie unknowingly took a deep breath as you started undoing her jeans. She felt like she was in a dream or a daze as you began removing her clothes and yours.

She originally thought she'd be too shy to look at you in your fully naked glory, but she surprised herself with how she couldn't take her eyes off of you instead. Her gaze raked up and down your body and she couldn't resist caressing your skin.

The moans of approval you gave her as her hands wandered or she kissed your skin had her in an altered state. This must be what it felt like to be high.

Soon you were back where you started, holding yourself above her, but this time her bare cock standing tall, precum dripping over the head and down the shaft oh so eager to be inside of you. Your warm hand gently wrapped around her to hold her in place. She felt breathless.

"Are you sure?" You asked as you held yourself poised above her.

Her eyes were fixed on her cock in your hand and how hot and incredible it felt to just have her tip nestled at your entrance. She forced herself to look up at you.

"I'm sure," she told you.

You smiled gently at her and leaned in, kissing her softly. She'd barely leaned up into the kiss when suddenly the heat from your core that rest on the head of her cock began to envelope her. She broke off the kiss immediately, eyes closed and jaw slack as your wetness stretched tightly around her tip and you slowly sank down onto her.

It sounded ridiculous, but she felt like she was seeing stars even eyes closed. Her jaw dropped further as your core fluttered warm and wet around her length and you settled on top of her.

Holy fuck. She'd masturbated countless times before. Hell, she even used the fleshlight - once - one of her teammates got her as a gag gift. But fuck. Nothing compared to this. No wonder people liked sex so much.

Just when she felt she'd steadied herself, you began to lift yourself up on her hardness once more until it was just the tip stretching out your entrance once more.

"Is this okay?" She heard you ask. She couldn't formulate words, she merely nodded and inadvertently began to push you back down onto her waiting cock.

You may have chuckled, she couldn't be sure, but soon you were establishing a rhythm, steadily rising and falling on her length. She could barely open her eyes. She heard you moaning softly as you began to ride her.

"You feel so good inside of me," you said as you began to rock yourself against her faster.

It felt incredible. Too incredible.

Her throat seized up as she felt the familiar tightening between her legs come on way too fast and by the time she'd even recognized the feeling she was gripping your thighs, fingers turning white, as she shot rope after rope of cum inside of you.

"Oh f-fuck," she stammered as she subconsciously jerked up into you as her orgasm continued. She felt mortified as she realized what was happening, but she couldn't stop and she could do nothing more than helplessly rut into you, muffled whimpers escaping her as she tried to quiet herself.

As her body slowly relaxed in the wake of her sudden orgasm, she vaguely began to notice how you tenderly massaged her scalp, stroking her hair. She blinked in a haze as you laid soft kisses atop her head. Despite your affection, her stomach sank.

"I'm so, so sorry," she began, voice pleading as she looked up at you. "I-I don't know-"

"Shh, it's okay," you assured her as you caressed her face and tilted her chin to kiss her softly. "I'm not bothered at all." Still, Jessie shook her head adamantly.

"I'm so embarrassed. Oh my God-"

"Hey," you said, cutting her off and looking her in the eye. "It's okay." She watched in confusion as the faintest smirk crossed your lips. "Like I said. It's pretty hot. I take it as a compliment. And besides," you went on lightly, brushing her hair back with your hands once more as you wiggled your hips atop of her and she held back a moan, "there's still plenty more night ahead of us."

Jessie quashed the rebuttal forming in her mind and instead simply looked at you and gave a slow, adoring shake of her head.

"You're the best. And I'm lucky to be with you," she said instead.

Before she could let her nerves get the best of her again, she gently nudged your hips with her thumbs, coaxing you to get off.

"I want to do something for you," she said and it only took a split second for you to smirk at her again. "What good manners," you said with waggle of your eyebrows as you rose off of her, obliging her request.

Her eyes fell to the sheets below as a pool of cum spilled out of you as down her softening cock and onto the bed. She stared wide-eyed for a moment at the mess you two had made, her cock pulsing at the sight as the visual tickled some part deep inside her brain.

She refocused as you settled onto your back, your head on the pillow.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, you know that right?" You said as you looked down at her. Frankly, she was too distracted by the sight of your wet pussy, cum still leaking out, and it took her a moment to register your statement.

She frowned. "I'm so into this. You have no idea," she breathed as she placed a hand on the inside of your knee, your legs automatically parting at the gesture. Her pulse quickened in anticipation.

"You're beautiful," she told you as she began to lay a few kisses along the inside of your thighs. Your scent overtook her senses and she felt herself growing hard again.

"Hand me that other pillow," you told her and she did so. She watched as you lifted your hips and settled it under them. "I find this helps," you explained. Jessie simply nodded, taking a mental note.

She began kissing her way up your thighs, her arms hooked under your legs and fingers gently digging into the top of them. Her nose was nearly touching your lips when she paused briefly.

"Um, I won't be offended if you tell me I'm doing something wrong," she said. "Or if you tell me I'm doing something right. I want to make sure you feel as amazing as possible. I've read a lot, but still, you never know. And-"

She looked up your body at you to see you smiling - maybe even cheekily - down at her.

"What?" She asked slowly, feeling a blush coming on.

"Nothing bad," you promised. "That's the perfect approach. And you're observant. And a good listener. So I'm sure you'll do great. My only tip is - when I tell you 'don't stop' - I mean it. Keep doing what you're doing - don't switch it up or speed up. Just do exactly what you're doing."

Jessie nodded intently. "Okay. I will."

Settling back in, Jessie began kissing along the juncture between your thighs and your core. Again, your smell was intoxicating and her cock throbbed, wanting to feel you wrap tightly around her once more. But first, she wanted to focus on you.

She laid a tentative kiss on your lips. A second time, gently suckling your folds, the taste of your cum and hers hitting her tongue for the first time. She peeked her tongue out and gave a faint lick through your folds. Her ears perked up as your hips shifted before her.

She gave another curious lick, this time at your entrance, surprised at the sensation of your juices on her tongue. She continued to patiently explore, trying to capture every subtle change in your breathing, any slight movement of your body.

"Mm, right there, baby," you moaned in approval as she settled her mouth around your clit. She sucked and licked delicately for several moments, again noting every reaction you had.

"Like you really mean it," you instructed as you rolled your hips into her face. Whether it was your words or the action, it triggered something in her mind and she dove in. You let out a low moan, your hand raking through her hair as you tilted your head back into the pillow.

That was the affirmation she needed. She abandoned her inhibitions. She gripped your thighs, pulling you closer to her on the bed and loving the small cry you let out as she fully latched on and lapped you up. She moaned into you and felt a wave go through her at how you moaned in returned, your hand still gripping her hair.

"Holy shit, Jess. Yes - like that," you told her and any need she had to come up for air dissipated in favour of wanting more and more praise from you.

Your hips began to buck into her mouth, but she stayed with you and didn't let up. Her senses buzzed as your legs grew restless and she felt you digging them into the mattress.

She continued her eager exploration, seeing what seemed to get the most reaction out of you and in time as she sucked on your clit and flicked the tip of her tongue against it you let out a particularly wanton moan and held her head firmly in place.

"Yes - oh my God. Right there, don't stop," you panted.

She resisted the urge to quicken her pace and instead did exactly as you instructed. You noises ceased for a moment and she was about to wonder if she'd done something wrong when a crescendo of a cry came from your mouth and your thighs locked around her head. You began to spasm against her and she felt a rush of liquid run down her chin.

She continued to suck and lick despite the way your hips jerked and eventually your body grew limp. She remained attentive, not wanting to stop too early until she felt you gently push her head away with a breathy laugh.

"Okay, okay," you laughed. "Give me a second."

"Oh," she said as she lifted her head, looking at you curiously before laughing softly herself. "Sorry. I didn't know if you wanted me to stop."

"No, no," you dismissed as you pulled her up onto you, wrapping your arms around her as you let out a content sigh. "You did amazingly."

"You're sure?" She asked as she lifted her head to look you in the eye, only to see you laying there, head tucked into her shoulder eyes closed. "You can be honest. I want it to be good for you."

You chuckled against her, giving her a squeeze. "That was really good. Like...hard to believe it's your first time kind of good."

Jessie felt a few embers of pride flare up within her chest and she bit back a satisfied smile.

"Okay. If you say so. But, if you want something different at any point just say." She began to blush, but forced herself to say what was on her mind anyway. She said it jokingly, despite how true it was. "I want to make sure you're fully satisfied."

"Mm," you voiced as you kissed her shoulder. "If that's just a preview of what's to come, you have nothing to be worried about."

Again, that prideful feeling stirred in her chest, but this time it was shrouded in apprehension. There were still other aspects of this she had yet to impress you with.

"Speaking of," you said, a lilt in your voice as you leaned up and began to lay teasing kisses on her neck that sent goosebumps across her skin. Her jaw dropped as your warm hand wrapped around her stiff member. "Seems like you're ready for round two."

She allowed herself a short laugh. "Well, you were really fucking hot, so..."

"Well, you felt - and tasted - how hot you got me just then, so, I guess we're even," you said with a smile in your voice as your hand began to slowly stroke up and down her length.

Even this felt so good, though. In the recesses of her mind she was already trying to formulate ways for you two to get more alone time together - she wouldn't be able to wait weeks and weeks again for this.

As good as it felt, she felt more in control this time around. Having cum earlier seemed to have take the edge off - slightly anyhow.

She grit her teeth together as you continued to patiently jerk her off. She subtly rocked her hips into your hand and you moaned softly in approval in her ear.

"So, ready for round two?" You asked. Her breath hitched slightly as she pushed into your waiting fist.

"Whenever you are," she responded. "Seriously. We don't have to rush," she went on, mindful of your request to give you a short break. She chuckled. "We've waited this long."

"Was the wait worth it?" You asked as your thumb circled her tip and your tongue teased the shell of her ear. She shivered, fingers digging into your hips.

"Fuck," she breathed as her eyes closed. "Way more incredible than anything I could've pictured. You're so perfect."

"We haven't even got to the good stuff yet," you teased, nibbling at her ear as you hooked one leg around the back of hers, running it up and down her leg.

It felt like energy was pulsing through her body and she had to smile in disbelief at it all. "You're incredible. I love you so much."

"I love you too, baby," you said as you tilted your head to kiss her softly at first before deepening the kiss and eliciting a moan out of her as your rocked your hips against her, her length flat against her stomach and yours now.

"Now," you went on, whispering in her ear once more. "I want you inside of me." Jessie's breath hitched yet again.

Despite feeling more confident and at ease, the nerves she felt before started to come back.

“Do you want to be on top again?" She asked as her hands caressed your curves, appreciating your body as she awaited your response. She felt you shake your head against her.

“I want you on top. I can still call the shots while on my back," you said flirtatiously as you traced a single finger down her spine. She let out a breathy laugh, flustered by your reply.

"You're really sexy," she said in wonderment. "Did I tell you that already?"

"Not exactly," you said with a soft laugh as you grasped her hips and shifted both of you so she was poised at your entrance once more. You leaned up and kissed her. "I'll tell you what I like, but if you're feeling overwhelmed you can slow down or stop. Don't worry, okay? It's supposed to be fun. And it's about us connecting and being together."

Jessie nodded. "I know. And I hear you. But I also just want you to feel as good as you make me feel."

"Mm, you want me coming undone on your cock, do you?" You asked as you held her chin between your thumb and index finger.

"Shit," Jessie said as her eyes fluttered shut at your words alone. She smirked. "Come on, babe. You gotta give me a chance here."

It seemed to be the right thing to say because you beamed up at her and caressed her face.

"If I know you the way I think I know you, it won't be long until you know all the right things to do and say to have me falling apart at your every whim. So, I'm going to enjoy this while I can."

Jessie grinned above you. "While that sounds pretty fucking amazing, I really just love the idea of being the one to make you feel incredible. I hope I can do that for you."

"You're off to a good start already," you chuckled as you reached down to hold her cock steady at your entrance. You gave her a light tug and she allowed you to guide her forward, her tip nudging your entrance open. She couldn't help but let her head fall against your shoulder at how good it felt already.

Your other hand came to her ass and gently pushed her hips down, she moved with your pressure and she felt your heat envelope her as she slowly sunk inside.

"Fuck," she breathed at the sensation. Her fists clenched into the mattress next to you and it almost made her toes curl.

You chuckled good-naturedly as you ran a hand through her hair. "Feel good, baby?" Her head lolled against yours.

"Mm. You feel so fucking amazing. Holy shit," she said as your legs wrapped around her waist and she sunk even deeper into you. "Oh Jesus."

You moaned lightly arm wrapping around her shoulder while the other remained teasing her hair. "It feels good for me too. You're filling me up so full."

Her fingers curled tighter into a fist, the sound of the sheets straining in her grasp below her. "Christ," she said. She hadn't even completed a full stroke and she was nearly on the cusp again.

She didn't think she'd be into dirty talk, but from the way her cock twitched inside you at the mere words you whispered to her, she had to admit she learned something new about herself.

She felt short of breath, but you didn't rush her and she took a moment to reset before she felt composed enough to draw her hips back. She was slow and deliberate in the motion, admittedly not knowing exactly how much she could pull back so she pushed inside sooner rather than later.

She did this, slow and steady, a few times over, one hand of yours on her ass and the other now on her hip to guide her. The amount of concentration it took actually turned out to be a blessing because the edge that had seemed far too near a minute ago didn't feel so imminent now.

"Just like that," you said in her ear as she began to find her rhythm with less and less of your guidance.

She felt her confidence building just for it to be shaken as she drew back too far and felt herself pop out of you.

"Oh fuck," she said, feeling her face heat up in embarrassment right away. You massaged the back of her neck tenderly and reached down to grasp her cock which was now fully slick with your cum again.

"It's okay," you assured her as you lined her up at your entrance again.

Jessie quickly worked to dismiss her nerves; not wanting to get rattled by such a thing and just allowed herself to feel safe with you instead. She slowly pushed back inside of you, reassured by how you moaned softly in her ear as she filled you up once more.

Soon she re-established the earlier rhythm, this time knowing how far she could draw back before sinking back to the hilt inside of you.

"Is this okay?" She asked, voice shuddering ever so slightly with the movement of her thrusts. You nodded against her.

"It feels good," you told her and laid a hand on her ass again, pushing her hips a particular way. "Try rolling your hips like this." She didn't question it, just followed your lead and soon your head fell back against the pillow, mouth agape. "Oh fuck. Just like that."

She grinned, spurred on by your praise. It felt like bliss the way you began to cling to her and pant in her ear.

She was doing that. She was the one making you lose your breath, making you pant and moan, causing you to dig your fingers into her skin as your pleasure built. It was greater than anything she ever dreamed of and she wanted more.

She began to quicken the pace of her hips and by the way your moans heightened in pitch, you approved. She wrapped her arms under your back and held you close as she continued to rock on top of you.

"Shit, that's so good, Jess," you moaned as you clung onto her, nails digging into the back of her shoulders. She couldn't help but smile smugly though you couldn't see it.

"Yeah?"

The sounds of her thrusts in and out of you were wet and growing wetter. Her climax was close, but she was absolutely focused and determined to make you cum before her. She flexed her muscles pumping into you harder.

"Oh God," you said. "Fuck. I'm going to cum - don't stop, Jess."

Again, she followed your advice and remained as steady as she could, careful not to cum though knowing she was about to make you orgasm just about sent her over the edge.

Sweat beaded on her forehead and she bit her lower lip as she concentrated on staving off her climax. The way you whimpered in her ear and how your walls fluttered wet and hot all around her was driving her wild. She couldn't help the way the odd whimper or moan escaped her throat as well as she did her best to bring you to your high.

Finally, she felt you tighten around her in a way she hadn't experienced before. Her strokes stuttered as you began to convulse around her cock and she exploded inside of you for the second time tonight. She grunted, wincing at the overwhelming sensation as she emptied herself deep inside of you as you held her tightly.

"Oh shit," she breathed as she collapsed on top of you. Her body felt spent and exhausted in a way she'd never felt before. It was strange, but incredible.

"Oh my God," you panted beneath her as your grip on her grew slack and your limbs relaxed.

The room was filled with heavy breathing as you both came back to your senses and Jessie was the first to speak next. She lifted herself up onto her forearms to see you, though her softening cock remained inside of you.

"Was...that okay?" She asked, newly tentative, brows furrowing in worry. To her surprise, you laughed, kissing her shoulder in consolation.

"I'm sorry. Me moaning your name, whining and panting underneath you and cumming all over your cock isn't answer enough?"

Jessie blushed, ducking her head slightly. "Well I don't know," she muttered.

"It was way more than 'okay', Jess. You're a natural," you chuckled. Again, she blushed deeper.

"Well, I don't know to feel about that," she complained slightly. "I don't want to be a 'natural' - I just...I don't know. Want to make you feel good."

"You did. Absolutely. You fit perfectly with me. You listened. You knew exactly what I wanted and needed." You sighed contentedly, head falling into the pillow further. "Fuck. That was so good."

"You'd tell me if you didn't like something, right?" She asked.

You huffed lightly, but gave her an affectionate look nonetheless.

"I know there is a mess beneath us on these sheets. And it's mostly me. That you can't fake. I promise you."

The image in Jessie's mind made her cock pulse and she began to grow hard inside of you once more. She kissed you, pulling back with a crooked grin.

"Any interest in round three?"

[whirlybirbs]

— THE FOOL ; KYOJURO RENGOKU ; 煉獄

summary: all you wanted was to pass out in your room, but no. here you are, dragging yourself (quite literally) up the mountainside to the ubuyashiki mansion's onsen. pairing: kyojuro rengoku / f!hashira!reader wc: 3.6k tags: set-pre season 1, rated T, hashira dynamics, kyojuro's impeccable manners, tengen uzui is a son of a bitch, good fluff, embarrassed flirting, slightly forbidden romance, retable reader insert who just wants to be left alone to bathe in peace a/n: don't look at me.

Your bones are tired. 

Not just your bones — but every ounce of marrow in those very bones. The expression 'bone tired'? Yea, it was written and smithed with you in mind. Tonight, you're the muse for true exhaustion — battered, bruised, and barely hanging on. 

The short walk up to the Ubuyashiki Mansion's onsen is proving formidable. 

Every muscle in your body aches and with each step closer, you pray you'll have a moment of quiet peace to yourself. After all, Shinobu insisted (read as threatened) that you soak in the hot spring after administering simple medical aid post-mission. 

Something, something, hot spring stimulates blood flow, blah, blah, strong healing properties.

All you wanted was to pass out in your room, but no. Here you are, dragging yourself (quite literally) up the mountainside through the willows of wisteria on a lantern-lit path to the hot spring.

Your geta catches on a root and you trip up, scoffing tiredly as you catch yourself and grumble a curse. Ow. Irritation simmers under your skin, and you wonder absently what's gotten into you. 

It normally takes more for you to be so... cranky. And openly so.

When you reach the gate of the onsen, your eye twitches.

Son of a —

There's Hashira abound tonight. 

"Look who's back from her little foray out East!"

Did Tengen need to be so loud? 

All the damn time?

The small, dimly lit spot is surrounded by wisteria and maple. The gravel crunches beneath your feet as you sigh and shut the red gate behind you, paying careful mind not to catch your fingers in the latch. Lanterns are perched on rocks, candles only beginning to run with wax in the evening air. The open-air bath overlooks the sprawling estate down the mountain. 

You sigh deeply from your chest, your eyes practically at half-mast when you turn around to snipe Tengen with an unamused look.

"Our dear Dream Hashira... you look like shit," comes the rogue commentary, "No offense, beautiful."

Tengen is at the far edge of the steaming bath with both arms outstretched along the edge. As always, he's taking up as much space as humanly possible. His silver hair hangs about his shoulders — and he even goes so far as to pin you with a rogueish smile. You stare flatly at him in response.

Then: the middle finger. 

"Woof. Tough crowd tonight," he rumbles as he slides a look towards a decidedly uninterested Sanemi. The Wind Hashira has his head hung back against the edge with a towel over his forehead — his eyes are closed. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was asleep. 

"Tengen, do me a favor," comes the gritted reply from the scarred man, "and shut the hell up." 

You motion plainly to Sanemi — the gesture says thank you — with your brows raising in silent agreeance. Even the act of speaking right now is all too much. 

"I must agree with Tengen," comes the wistful and soft voice of Muichiro Tokito as he lifts his chin from its submerged position; his hair is swimming about him. The Mist Hashira looks... almost peaceful; but his words are damning, "You do look like shit."

Somehow it's worse when Tokito says it.

That makes Sanemi lift his head and pry one eye open. 

You serve him an unenthused look from your spot by the benches. You hope for a bit of sympathy, but instead:

"...What the fuck happened to you?" comes his dry response to your current state of being. 

Which — fine, maybe it's fair. The others rarely ever see you in any state aside from perfect. You're meticulous about your appearance; from your uniform to your posture, you value perfection over all else. The devil that has always haunted you is the details. Perhaps it was your rigid upbringing, but regardless—

"Ah!" suddenly, there's a resoundingly warm voice booming across the small courtyard from the onsen's koshitsu, "I see you've returned, Lady— Oh... my, are you quite alright...?"

You've got to be kidding me.

Kyojuro Rengoku's face is twisted into genuine worry. He's standing in the middle of the path, his focus entirely on you. His hair is undone and the sunburst strands are spilling along his chest and back. There's a small cotton towel slung around his narrow waist. You purposefully level your eyes with his, not daring to let your gaze waver — and then you curse Kocho Shinobu a thousand times over for sending you here.  

(Tengen is smirking. You want to throw your sandal at his head.)

Finally, you speak. 

"I'm fine." 

You don't sound fine. You sound like a woman who'd endured being unceremoniously whipped about by a snake Demon in a swamp for three hours before she could finally land a killing blow. 

Kyojuro frowns. His eyes — like two gems of carnelian — are nearly glowing with concern. Those dark brows of his knit and you try to grit out a tight smile. It fails. It looks more like a wince than anything.

It's... pathetic.

"Perhaps a soak will help," the Flame Hashira offers gently. His tone is soft with pity.

Shit. Fuck. Damn it. Fucking Shinobu, fucking hot spring, fucking swamp demon, fucking—

Right. Right, a soak. It's the thing that Tengen Uzui is somehow singlehandedly making more unbearable — he's dragging Sanemi and Muichiro by the necks from the onsen — by leaving you alone with Rengoku. 

"Go on you two! We're just leaving anyways, right fellas?"

"Die," you spit hoarsly in his direction; your expression is flat.

Tengen throws you a wink. "Relax a little, pretty. You deserve it!"

You could still hit him with your geta. Maybe if you put enough force behind it, it could kill him. 

After all, he's been doing this ever since you let it slip about your little crush. 

And just when a girl thinks she can trust an ex-shinobi... never again. You don't care if Tengen is the one offering to buy the sake, you're never drinking with that man again. He's a gossip and a whore. A gossiping whore. A devoted husband-whore who gossips like no-fucking-other. 

Admitting to Tengen Uzui's stupid face that you've been avoiding Kyojuro Rengoku because of your feelings was the second worst mistake you ever made.

Your first worst mistake was not dragging your sorry ass back down the mountain after you and Kyojuro were left alone in the onsen. 

At least — at the very least — it's quieter now, even if the silence feels oddly intimate. 

You're thankful Kyojuro has retreated into the water of the bath; the distance allows you to ignore the burning pit in your gut at the thought of him and you together. In the onsen. Alone.

You've bathed alongside the other Hashira before. The whole lot of you are warriors. There's no shame in the body — and admittedly, you grew up around konyoku onsen in Tokyo. 

It wasn't the nakedness that was the problem. 

...Maybe it was a little bit of the nakedness. 

But, mostly the fact it's Kyojuro Rengoku: the kindest man you've ever met, a man whose smile is nearly as bright as the morning sun, a man whose laugh feels like a summer thunderstorm. A man who is tall, strong, and handsome. It's no small secret he's well-loved among the ranks; respected, admired, sought after... Who wouldn't make an attempt atcatching his eye? After all, he's capable, swift, courageous, honorable—

Having a heart attack.

He's having a heart attack.

I mean — it's you. And him. Alone. 

...Naked. And alone.

He himself could have strangled Tengen when the ex-shinobi scurried off, leaving him here — though he'd never admit it. That sneaky bastard is fully aware of Kyojuro's feelings towards you, and Kyojuro swears the Sound Hashira gets off on forcing him to confront the very thing he forbids himself to even dwell upon. 

Your voice pulls him from his enraptured internal monologue.

"I am fine," you break the silence as your fingers work at the obi around your waist in nervousness. Your back is to him, and as the grey kimono slips down your shoulders, he panics, "I swear."

"I'm not sure I've ever seen you in such a state as this," he tries to sound level, confident, as he turns in the water; suddenly the mountainside is very beautiful. Yes, very nice. Very... mountain-y. 

Kyojuro's eyes flick over his shoulder briefly, back at you.

He sees skin. More of your skin than he's ever seen. There are dimples at the base of your spine. Good god. He swallows tightly and turns his gaze forward once more. 

Even the act of shrugging your kimono off is enough to make you rasp. The ribs Shinobu had been so concerned about are protesting now. It's fine. Everything is fine. You peek over your shoulder. Relief floods you as you realize Rengoku's back is turned. 

Quickly, you slip into the onsen. It's the quickest you've moved all night. 

You plunge in deep, ignoring the burn of the water along of the more raw marks and bruises bitten into your skin. Your ribs wail in protest as you inhale sharply at the heat, and you try your best to coach your expression into unwavering when Kyojuro turns back around. 

"Better?"

All you can do is grunt from your submerged position.

That makes him laugh.

You try to memorize the warm sound and tuck it neatly into your heart. It's cute, the way his eyes scrunch when he laughs. You find yourself staring for a second before swallowing down your affections.

"Shinobu demanded I come," you explain slowly, lifting your hands and playing with the surface of the water, "If I had it my way, I'd be in bed."

Or murdering Tengen in his sleep.

"The hot springs are good for healing," Kyojuro chirps brightly, canting his head as he speaks almost as if he's going to reprimand you. His voice drops an octave, "You know that, Lady Hashira."

He's teasing you.

He's — he's seriously teasing you.

You're naked and he's teasing you.

You sink a little lower into the water and narrow your eyes at him — the act makes you look a bit like an angry, wet cat. Kyojuro can only grin. Truly this is rare form for you. Your disposition is usually sunny, if not well-manicured and mindfully well-mannered. You are every bit a Lady Hashira. Moreso than Shinobu or Mitsuri in a way. 

You are the Dream Pillar, after all, and a woman composed purely of romanticism in his eyes. It's the way he could see you, in another life, in a fine silk kimono and delicate make-up; he could see you in gold and pearls, pouring tea worth more than his monthly salary into fine ceramic cups. Suitors abound.

Though, perhaps that's not so different than now.

Not with the way you're delicately pouring yourself a helping of Tengen's abandoned sake at the edge of the onsen. You'd think it was the most expensive liquor in the land with the care you take to not spill a drop. 

You slide him a hesitant look over your shoulder, the water lapping at your bruised back. Kyojuro lifts a brow.

"What?" you ask, feigning innocence as you turn back to the task at hand, "It'd be a shame if it went to waste."

"I didn't know sake had healing properties," Kyojuro offers slowly, his lips twitching upwards as he watches you take a long sip from the cup.

"Something, something, blood flow," you murmur mostly to yourself, tossing back the rest with a scowl and a wince, "I'm sure Shinobu would agree."

Kyojuro leans back against the wall, sinking a little deeper as he settles onto the seat beneath the water. The ends of his hair are soaked, turning an even darker shade of crimson. His shoulders flex as he relaxes his arms against the stones. 

His own body is tired. Beneath the water, he absently stretches his legs and pays careful mind to the twinge of pain in his left knee.

"Whether she agrees or disagrees is none of my business," he supplies diplomatically.

You reach for the jug, giving it a light shake. It's nearly empty anyway. 

You extend it, offering it to Kyojuro.

The Flame Hashira shakes his head. "No thank you. I reserve drink for special occasions only."

You quirk a brow. Your tone is light. Airy, almost. "I didn't know that about you."

He hums. You place the sake down, sink lower into the water, and try to focus on his face — not the strength in his forearms, nor the water running in rivets down his chest. 

"My father has quite a love for the stuff," he admits with a controlled frown, "I avoid it when I can."

Ah. 

Right. 

Your own father, also a retired Hashira, voiced many a feeling about Shinjuro Rengoku when he was given the chance. You'd visited home months ago and when you mentioned serving alongside Kyojuro, his eyes narrowed dangerously and impeccably sharp. His tongue lashed out at you — as if you were the retired Flame Pillar himself. 

There's a history there, it seems.

"I apologize."

"Don't," he says; firm yet soft.

"It is better that way, really," you mumble in an attempt to soothe the ache you can see across his face, "Liquor leads to making many a fool."

Kyojuro's brow quirks. "You sound as though you're speaking from experience."

"Perhaps," you say slyly, wandering to the far end of the pool. You're nearly submerged to your nose, "A lady shall never tell."

"And if I asked Tengen?"

"You wouldn't dare." The water splashes as you whip around and glare — though Kyojuro senses no real malice. 

It was no small secret you'd been dragged through the mud after you and Tengen's night on the town. Why the Master called a meeting that morning was beyond you, but there's a part of you that wonders if he was slightly amused at your less-than-pleasant state. You swore you were going to puke all over the engawa when you bowed — never mind the fact the morning sun's brightness was enough to nearly drill your brain into a pulp. 

Kyojuro had never seen you so... disheveled. 

Second to tonight, that is.

The Flame Hashira smirks. "If the lady forbades it, then who am I to ignore her wishes?"

Fucking Tengen, fucking Shinobu, fucking Kyojuro—

Fucking honorable, respectable, polite Kyojuro.

"Well, this lady does forbade it," you say with narrowed eyes, "So there."

"You really are in rare form this evening."

He's smirking. That's new.

"Yes, well," you mumble as you lull your head back and wet the rest of your hair; the warmth seeps through the strands and feels soothing on your scalp. You already feel better. Less like a swamp demon's plaything, more like a girl trying her best not to let her petal-mouthed feelings slip out, "We can blame Muzan Kibutsuji for that."

"I surmise it has been a difficult day?" he rumbles quietly from his spot in the onsen.

"You haven't the slightest idea."

"Care to enlighten me?" 

"And embarrass myself?" she mutters, splashing absently, "I'd prefer to remain capable in your eyes, Rengoku. I'll spare you the details. And anyone else who asks."

He's grinning. That sort that appears in an optimist's dream. Bright, sunny and so enrapturing it feels like your heart is being scorched by its warmth. 

"Your capability will never waver in my eyes," Kyojuro supplies as he flicks the water absently; his gaze has fallen to the sway of the wisteria in the evening air, "You are amazing. One particularly bad day does not diminish that fact."

Maybe it's the sake. Maybe it's the compliment. Either way, the tips of your ears feel warm. 

That little, nibbling feeling is back in his chest. The very one he's been trying his best to ignore for months. 

"You are only being kind," you mutter, "Because, as the other's made very clear, I look like shit." 

Kyojuro finds himself smiling a bit at the jest — his fingers glide along the top of the water, tracing idly patterns into it as he watches you sink deeper and deeper into the hot spring. Finally, for a moment, you descend below the surface.

Then, you break the surface slowly. Your hair is swimming around you, clinging to your bare shoulders. You exhale, brush water from your lashes, and inhale. You look... beautiful. A different sort of beautiful than he's used to. This sort of beauty is relaxed. Tired. You seem a bit freer than usual — unrestrained by the image you aim to keep well protected amongst the others. 

Kyojuro sinks a little deeper himself.

He's still watching you.

Your eyes find his. 

There's a moment where all you two can do is blink — Flame and Dream mingling for a breath beneath the stars. Wide eyes bound by a moment of silence, a moment of hesitation. He feels like all the breath has been swept from his lungs. All Kyojuro can do is stare into your eyes.

Then, he speaks.

Blurts, more aptly.

"You are beautiful."

...Did he just say that? 

Your lips part in quiet shock.

Suddenly, his posture is more rigid, and his expression a bit panicked — perhaps because your own eyes widen a mile at the words that spill from his mouth. Kyojuro raises his hands as he inhales sharply, the heat of the bath inching a degree hotter. Whether it's from the sudden admission or a misfire of his breathing technique, you're unsure. 

His cheeks are hot. He leans forward, shaking his head.

Damn you, Tengen. Damn you, damn you—

"I-I simply mean — you... You do not look like shit—" He attempts to explain.

"Oh—"

"Yes, yes, I—"

"Thank you," you say quickly, trying to calm your own racing heart as he swallows down a bought of embarrassment and offers a pained smile your way. It's enough to quell his panic.

"Of course," he breathes out, sagging a bit deeper into the water as he fiddles with his hands. He has a habit of rubbing at his callouses. Kyojuro swallows, then hoarsly admits: "One might think that I was drinking the sake with the way I'm making a fool of myself."

Your laugh is like a balm. 

"Hardly," you offer as you sink into the water with a smile; your eyes are glimmering with something a bit mischievous as you swim towards the water's edge. You pause, then slip a look his way over your bare shoulder, "...Do you mean it?"

"That I'm a fool? Of course."

You scoff quietly. Kyojuro's smile is tight — knowing. 

Then, he speaks warmly and kindly. He confirms your question with ease. His arms are wound across his chest. "You are truly beautiful. The most beautiful woman I have ever had the grace to lay eyes upon, my Lady." 

Maybe you could drown yourself here. 

You're not entirely sure how you'll ever recover from this — not from how tender he says it, not from how honest his words sound. So suddenly you feel as though he's hung every star in the sky for your eyes only, having wished upon them, time and time again, for nothing more than a moment of your time. It's reverent is what it is.

You're about to open your mouth and say something when a bright, girlish giggle cuts through the tension—

Kyojuro Rengoku has never been more thankful for Mitsuri Kanroji's ill timing. Behind her is Lady Shinobu. 

The pink and green-haired Hashira is ecstatic to find both yourself and Rengoku in the hot spring — her delight is palpable as she waves her arms and cheers brightly into the air. Her crow caws overhead. Her darker-haired counterpart levels them both with polite smiles.

"Oh, this is just lovely! My friends!" she's chirping as she closes the gate, "I am so glad to see you both back safe and sound—"

"Heading my advice, it seems," Shinobu says slowly — almost like she knows something you don't. Her pale, lilac eyes flick between you and Rengoku. For a moment, you almost suspect she's about to ask something.

"How are you feeling?" Mitsuri cries in your direction, shrugging her kimono off with ease — unbothered entirely by Rengoku's presence. The two are like brother and sister, and Mitsuri has never batted an eye about nudity, "How are your ribs?"

Kyojuro levels you with a look. 

You offer a sheepish grin. 

"Yes," Shinobu mutters as she slips out of her geta, "Four broken ribs."

Kyojuro's nostrils flare. "You said nothing about the sort."

You lift your chin in defiance. "I told you I was sparing you the details."

Mitsuri's bright eyes dart between the two of you — a little bit of giddiness blooming at the sight of Kyojuro looking so worried about their fellow Dream Hashira. 

He slides a look towards Kocho. Then rolls his shoulders. With a sigh, he moves to stand, the water lapping at his waist. You decidedly find the edge of the onsen very interesting as you try to coach yourself through the overwhelming urge to stare. 

"I trust you'll monitor her condition, Kocho," he murmurs as he moves through the water; the words sit nicely in your heart and you feel a little pride swell at his indication that he cares if you're alright, "I'll let you ladies have some time amongst yourselves."

You catch his eyes for a second. A moment. A lingering little breath that mingles between you — like Kocho and Mitsuri aren't there. Then, he stepped from the bath and gathered his robe.

For now, the two of you will pretend earlier never happened.

For now.

Just a little thing between the two of you — and suddenly, you're not so cranky. Once the muse for exhaustion, you're now the muse of lovesickness. 

When the gate closes behind Kyojuro, Kocho speaks.

"...What was all that?"

Nevermind. The crankiness is back.

"Shut up."

[spidybaby]

hi lovey ❤️ don't know if ur request are open but if they are pls do something with kyky maybe his whole family love you but his mum doesnt ❤️

Mama's Boy

Summary: Kylian convinced himself that his mother liked you, but when she openly rejects you in front of him, he has to choose which side to be.

Warnings: cursing, mommy issues, dysfunctional family.

At first, you thought it was something normal the way she behaved with you. Kylian even told you it was.

"She does like you. She just needs to get more comfortable around you."

You let it go. Thinking he was right, you were like that, too. It took you a little before being open and relaxed towards the rest of his family.

Being busy with your own things and having to work around Kylian's schedule and yours made you two not even cross paths.

Kylian asked you to help him with something related to his foundation, the same one his mother's the president of.

You were asked to pick some things and drop them off at the venue of the event. Melissa was there. She and Fayza were supervising that everything went the way they planned.

You texted Melissa that you were there, with everything Kylian asked you to bring. She went to the parking lot to help you with some things.

You walk with hands full, Fayza was talking with a man. Melissa was telling you about what activities were going to be performed at the event.

"Bonjour, Miss Lamari." You say, smiling at her.

"Hi." She says, not a single expression on her face. "Are you staying?"

"Kylian asked me to say." You say. You notice how she inhales, trying not to show her discomfort. "If that's okay with you, of course."

She nods, leaving you alone. You knew she didn't really want you there, but Kylian was the one asking you to stay and participate.

You help Melissa with some things outside of the venue, organizing some piles for the games with the kids.

Kylian arrives half hour later, when his mother sees him, she asked him to go get changed for the pictures and everything.

He has this way of making you think what his mother is doing is just not being herself around you because she doesn't know you that much, and she will eventually open to you.

The activity was fun, Kylian was playing with the kids. You love watching him interact with them. It was a glimpse of what you could archive with him.

You love how his parents. Mostly his mother, educate him to give to those in need. You love him and his acts of kindness.

"Stop daydreaming." Melissa says, laughing at your heart eyes. "Believe me, he wants the same thing as you."

"I hope he does." You smile. "Because I feel like I would die if he doesn't."

"You guys have been together for what now?"

"Two years in a month."

"Don't worry. He wouldn't play with you like that." she pats your back. "Now, can you help me with bringing the bags we put together?"

You nod, walking back to the warehouse. Fayza was putting the bags into a box to carry them outside.

"Miss Lamari, would you like some help with that?"

She didn't turn to you. She kept organizing the box. You move a little closer so you could help her. Passing her some things.

She lifts the box, you notice how I was kinda heavy due to the amount of things it has. "Let me help you."

What you didn't expect was her passing you the box. The heavy things make you almost lose control.

She left without saying a word. You walk slowly to the exit. Your back killing you from the weight you have in your hands.

Melissa noticed you were struggling with the box. Rushing to help you. "Didn't occur to make two trips?" She asks, taking one side of the box.

You nod out of breath. You two left the box in a little table you prepare. "I was thinking two trips. But Kylian's mother gave me the whole box." You sigh.

Melissa shakes her head, she was the only one who noticed that Fayza treated you in a non fairly way.

She never mentioned anything to you or to Kylian. It wasn't her place, but she didn't like the attitude towards you.

"Let's get this ready, I want a cold shower." She smiles, organizing with you.

You had a special thing about the way kids can easily be drawn to you. You loved the way kids felt so secure with you.

So seeing you interact with the kids as you hand them their bags was something that didn't surprised Kylian.

He was focused on the way you were talking to a little boy who was crying. Trying to calm him down.

"Kyks, the last thing you need to do is say the goodbye words, and we can leave." Fayza hands him the speech. When Kylian doesn't take the paper out of her hands, she turns to him. "Kylian, I'm talking to you."

"She's a natural, don't you think?" He asks her. She turns to where he is seeing. It was you with a kid on your hip while you give the others their bags. "She will be an amazing mother."

"Don't run when you can barely walk, Kylian. You are too young and too naive of what life is."

"Maybe I am, but I know that I would do everything for her."

Fayza turns back to him. Grabbing his wrist and leaving the paper in his hand. He then pays attention to his mother.

"Goodbye words, now." She says before leaving.

Kylian does what his mother asks him. Thanking everybody who helped that day and what the purpose of the activity was.

You and Melissa were eating a few treats that the kids got. Ranking them to keep yourselves occupied while waiting for Kylian and Fayza.

You feel two hands grabbing your waist. The smell of Dior Sauvage makes you smile. "What's that?"

"Hello to you too, Mister Mbappé." You joke with him. Turning your face to kiss his cheek. "Mel and I are eating this cupcakes, but this is chocolate chips, we rate it a 7."

You feed him a piece. Humming at the taste. "I'll rate it a solid 9." He says, looking at you. "What else you got here?"

"This is lemon, and this to me is a 10." You feed him again. Watching him roll his eyes at the taste of the cupcake. "And wait for the next one. It's even better."

Fayza looks from afar, picking her stuff and walking closer to the three of you. "Kylian, you shouldn't be eating those."

You stop your actions. Putting the piece of cupcake back in the little plate. "I'm sorry, it was my fault." You smile at her.

She has her shades on, but you have the feeling that she rolled her eyes. "Let's just go. Please."

You look at Melissa, she gave you a look. "Melissa and I are leaving together." You hug Kylian while Melissa went to get her things. "What you do here is so amazing, Ky." You kiss him. "I admire you so much."

He has this cocky smile, he loves being praised, especially by you. "Thank you for helping." He kisses your cheek. "I'll meet you at your place, deal?"

You nod, saying a quick goodbye to him. Melissa was waiting for you. You two chat about things that happened during the weekend.

You drop her home, wishing her a goodnight. When you were on your way home, you stopped at Kylians' favorite restaurant. Ordering his favorite dessert.

After a quick shower and some food, you hear the front door getting closed. You wait to see your boyfriend walking.

He does this funny dancing to something that was streaming on his phone. You laugh. This definitely was something tik tok girls would love to use for the "kylian core" type of thing.

"Are you pulling a show for me?" You ask, happy to see him having fun.

The season was a long one. A very tired one. Now that he announced that he was joining Madrid and that France national team won the Euros, he was able to relax.

He leaves the phone on the counter, grabbing your hands and making you stand. You dance at the rhythm of the song.

You love moments like this. Only you and him, enjoying something a simple like dancing in the middle of your kitchen.

"Okay, time out, time out." You say, hands signaling the time out. "I got something for you, open the fridge."

He smiles, guessing what that might be. When he does, he does a happy dance. Making you laugh.

"Mom is going to hate you for getting me this." He laughs.

You scuff, you know he doesn't say it with that intention, but to you is a weird feeling. "You are allowed to a sweet thing." You reply. Kissing his lips.

"Am I allowed to this sweet piece I have in front of me?" He asks, eyebrows popping up and down.

You blush. He always jokes with you like that. And even after all these years you blush like crazy.

"I think you need to rest for the Euros, baby."

"But I've been resting, and I miss you like crazy." He beggs, hugging you by the waist. "Please, amour." He kiss your hair.

"If you get tired and lose a game, I'll feel bad and guilty."

He pouts, leaving the pâtisserie in the table. He hugs you, but not the typical hug. This is more of a touch starve kind of hug.

"You are so needy." You laugh. He smiles at your laugh. "What's going on?" You ask curious. He was acting up.

"I saw you with the kids today, and God, you looked amazing." He confesses the way his smiles are shining and the way his eyes lighten up at the memory. "I can't wait for us to have our own." He kiss you.

You talked about this in the past, how you two wanted to wait a little bit, specially now with him moving to Madrid and having to find the right schedule to see who will visit who and when.

"The time will come, my love." You peck him. "Now let's go upstairs and pretend to watch a movie while you kiss me how I like it."

He makes a small happy dance again, grabbing his pâtisserie and hurrying back next to your side as you walk upstairs with him, hand in hand.

"I'm so nervous, I want them to win so bad." You say to Helena, Kounde's girlfriend.

She laughed at how cute you looked all worried. "Calm down! It's going to go well."

You nod at her, trying to relax to enjoy the game. You had this feeling, but you thought it was just the normal feelings before a big game.

The game began, you were happy and excited about Kylian as a captain. He was so passionate about this team.

Helena, you and the other wags that joined the game were all seated together. You loved them and they were so nice and kind to you.

Antoine got hurt. Thanks to a player from the other team, he ended up facing up the fence. Head and knee bleeding at the impact of it.

The whole stadium was crazy, fans from the other team yelling profanities at the French team, at Antoine, and at the referee because it was a yellow.

And the French fans were yelling too in support of Antoine and the team. It was all crazy. The medical team helping him.

We turned to Erika, Antoine's wife, she was trying to see if the situation requires her to be alarmed or if she could be calm.

When the medical team finishes with the bandage, Antoine turns to where we are, giving Erika a thumbs up.

We feel better now. He was fine, and we relaxed. It was fun how his bandage was kinda slipping and moving on top of his head.

The game was entertaining, it was 1 - 0

The first goal was scored during the first time of the match. So, the team has to prevent Austria from scoring.

"I feel anxious." You say.

"It's just the game, I feel like Austria is kinda playing dirty. I don't know."

Just a few seconds later you see how Kylian and other players go for the ball with the head. When he falls his nose hits the shoulder or the Austrian player.

The whole stadium got silent for a second, the big screen showing his bloody nose. Some of the players make the referee stop the game for him to get assistance.

You feel a headache grows. The pain he must be feeling right now. "That must hurt like hell" Erika says.

You can't even look, focusing on your phone and seeing the text from Ethan. He asked you if Kylian was okay since some sports channels cut to other things instead of him getting help from the medical team.

You snap a picture of the field where you can see kylian getting help. He looked really bad, the blood on his shirt, the tearful eyes.

After the help, he kept playing. You shake your head at him, he kept looking at the bleachers, at where you are.

You hate when he feels like superman and thinks he can overcome everything by playing. News flash, he can't.

While he was trying to get past this player, he slap him in the face, which probably didn't even hurt, what hurted was his most likely broken nose.

"He needs to go to the hospital." Helena tells you. "I think they are switching him with Olivier. If they do, you should go to the dressing room with him."

"Yes, maybe get him to go to the hospital." Erika says.

Olivier makes the cut. He's now on the field replacing your boyfriend. Kylian is taken to the medical room, they will tell if he needs urgent care or if he can wait for the match to end.

You were thankful that the pass you have allows you to be in different parts of the stadium. You needed to see him before a decision was taken about him going to the hospital right now or if he was staying till the end.

"Hey!" You say, walking into the medical room. "Hi, amour." You grab his shoulders.

He grabs your hand, not feeling like saying anything. He's breathing through his nose, the tears are still there.

"We have to take him for a check, we can't really determine if his nose is broken or just fractured."

You nod, "Can I shower?" He asks.

"Be careful, please. We will help you wash your face so you can shower freely."

They help him wash his face and around his nose, you can see his discomfort when they pass the cotton ball near his nose.

"Can you wait for me at the hotel?"

"No, kyks. I'm going with you."

"Deschamps is going with me, and you landed before the match. You must be tired." He hugs you.

You were tired, you had a horrible flight and he knows it. "It's okay, I want to be by your side."

He smiles, hugging you. "Thank you."

You help him with his things. Carrying his toiletry bag and his phone. You text Ethan, telling him that you will update him when you get details.

He was in pain, you can tell by the way he is gripping his cap. He's not talking with Deschamps, he's just nodding or shaking his head no.

You stayed in the waiting room at the hospital, checking the candy at the machine. Your stomach was crazy for something.

"Hey!" you heard, turning to fins him with some bandage covering his nose. He explains what is going on and what the doctors told him. "Let's go."

You text his brother, updating him on what Kylian told you. He thanked you for the updates, feeling a little less stressed.

"Merci, good night." You wave goodbye to the chauffeur and the security people.

You walk with him to the room. You weren't supposed to be there with him, since the French Federation didn't allowed the players to bring company to their rooms.

But they allowed it since Kylian requested to have you to check on him like the doctor asked.

You feel his phone vibrate in your hand, the ID called showing his mother's name. "Ky, is your mom." You knock on the bathroom door.

"Pick up, I don't want to talk. S'il te plaît, mon amour." He shouts from inside.

"Hello, Miss Lamari." You say, your voice was tired.

"Oh, it's you." She sighs. "Can I talk to my son?"

"He's tired and asked me to pick the phone for him. If you want to know how he's doing, the doctor said his nose would be fine for him to play but with a protective mask. The Federation will get him one for training and the official one for the match on match day."

You explained everything, so the call was cut short. You don't have the energy or passion to do anything.

"And I can ask him to call you tomorrow, I'm sorry he can't pick up, but he's not in the mood to deal with anything today."

"Thank you for the updates." You hear the voice of Ethan. "Tell Kylian I say hi."

You smile. "I will, E."

"Bonne nuit." He says happily.

"Miss Lamari, I'll make sure Kylian calls you tomorrow before training. I'm sorry he can't right now."

"Fine, bonne nuit." She says and hangs up.

You throw the phone on the bed. Sitting on the edge. You can't take more of today than you already did.

Kylian walks out of the bathroom. Holding a towel in this hands. You wait for him to initiate a conversation. Not wanting to intrude into his thoughts.

After about five minutes of staring at him while he searches something on his luggage. You decide to speak.

"Do you want me to give you a massage?" You ask, noticing his tense muscles. "I have a warm cream."

He nods, taking his shirt off carefully. You ask him to lay in a position where his nose wasn't compromised.

You played some low music to calm him down, something very nice like jazz. You worked on his back.

He hummed, relaxing at your touch. He knows how much you wanted for him to be relaxed and to feel better after the day he had.

He fell asleep, you washed your hands and changed into your pajamas to join him in bed. It was going to be some hard weeks for him.

But you were going to be there.

You felt tired, the moving wasn't exactly the best. With some of your belongings getting lost.

"I promise they will be here by the end of the weekend." The guy from the moving company says. "We have them located. We are just waiting for a truck to send it to our warehouse."

"Thank you, I'll appreciate you speeding things for us."

You say goodbye to him, grabbing your purse to go to the mall. You needed something for the week.

Kylian asked you to pick some things he ordered from the stores. You only had three outfits, so you decided to abuse your power of his card and to take yourself shopping.

You spend quite some time in the mall, just roaming around the stores. When you head back to your new home you find a car parked in the driveway.

"I'll get these inside, Miss." The chauffeur says, you nod, thanking him for the help.

You walk inside, noticing a luggage and a box. "Hello?"

You walk into the kitchen, finding Fayza and her assistant talking and eating something. "Oh, hi."

They both turn to you. Fayza lifts her hand, saying hi. They keep their conversation. You didn't understand much of French.

When you moved to France to work, you tried to learn the language, to speak better and more naturally.

However, your work was mostly in English and Kylian, and you talked in English, and when you were with him, he translated everything to you.

Plus, you are not the best at learning new things, and French was complicated. You know how to talk with someone in a very simple conversation, but you can't fully understand a business talk or whatever talk they are having.

You walk to the fridge, taking a juice. You feel weird with both of them just ignoring your presence.

"Excuse me, Fayza is asking if her room is ready."

"I didn't knew you were coming today, so I'll go make it right now."

You walk quick upstairs, picking the sheets and everything you need to get the room ready. You make sure the bed and everything in the room is perfect.

You don't need a reason for her to tell you that something bothers her. You already have enough of those.

"Miss Lamari, the room is ready." You call from the stairs. You grab some sheets and a towel for her assistant. When you see her and Fayza walking. "Hey, this is for the guest room." You say, handing her the things.

"Did you iron the sheets like I asked Kylian? The weather is cold and I don't like cold sheets." She says.

You know she's doing this to bother you. Who irons their sheets?

"No, but I can do it. Are you okay with waiting a few more minutes?"

She rolls her eyes. "No, leave it like this."

"Okay." You smile. "Want some coffee? I just got this French press and this new coffee that tastes amaz-"

"Peux-tu te taire? tu es tellement ennuyeux" (Can you shut up? you're so annoying) She says. She walks past you, getting inside the room.

"That means that maybe later." The assistant says. Fake smiling at you.

You go back to your room, already stressed about the interaction.

You got the last box of Kylians clothes, ironing some of the clothes. You send Kylian a picture of his now very organized closet.

You hear a knock, making you walk to the door. "Fayza wants to talk to you. Come, please."

You roll your eyes at her, walking behind to the room of the mother of your boyfriend. "Yes, Miss Lamari?"

"Kylian mentioned earlier that you will work with him, I need to know what kind of work."

You blink a few times, not prepared for her to be so straightforward. "He asked me to work for the foundation."

"Okay, understood." She wrote something on a notebook. "That will not work for me, I think you can find something else."

You stand there just looking at her write things, you don't know what to say to her. Did she just fire you?

You were about to speak again, but she interrupted you. "I would love some coffee, and maybe some milk but on the side. Thank you."

You nod, walking outside and to the kitchen. You brew some coffee and grab a wood board for her sides.

You think on what to say to re open the conversation about the job. You want to have her understanding that you will be doing that job.

"Got the coffee, everything else on the side like you asked me, I even got you some of the cookies I know you like."

"Mhm." She mumbles. Not even looking at you.

"I want to talk to you about the job topic." You say, nervous about it. "I already compromised with this job and I think it's better if you talk with Kylian about the changes you want."

"I mean, if you want it to be him to repeat what I just told you, fine by me."

You take a deep breath. You don't feel like having this conversation with her. "Miss Lamari, I quit my job and left my home to come live with Kylian in Madrid. I don't think this is up for discussion. The job is the only reason why I agree to move."

"If you ask, maybe they'll hire you again. And I'm sure you can find another apartment. My assistant can help with that."

"I'll let Kylian and you discuss this when he's here in Madrid." You say, trying not to snap. "If you need anything you can call me, I'll be in my room."

You hurry, grabbing your phone to FaceTime Kylian.

"Bonjour." He says, smiling at you. "I got you the jersey you wanted." He turns his camera to show you the jersey thrown in the hotel chair.

"Thank you, that's cool." You smile. You don't want to say anything now that you see how relaxed he is. "Hey, I called to check on you. Miss you, my love."

"I do too, but only two more, hopefully." He smiles. "Hey, you told your parents about the moving?"

You make a face. "It was meh"

"Problems in paradise." He tries to joke. You half smile. "Was is that bad?"

"My mom told me that I was making a mistake by following you, that they payed a lot for my education for me to just throw it away."

"I'm sorry." He says. You can see he understands where your parents are coming from. "I wouldn't want our daughter to follow some weirdo around." He jokes.

You laugh, loving how he takes every opportunity to not only make you feel better but you mention how he sees a future with you.

"Yeah, but I will feel weird to think out daughter in law will have her parents call our son a loser or weirdo."

"When he wins a world cup like daddy, they would love him."

You forget why you even call him in the first place. You love how talking with him is so easy.

"I'll take a shower, and then I'll go to bed. I love you. I can't wait to see the game tomorrow."

"Don't eat shampoo." He jokes again, making you laugh. "Bonne nuit, amour."

"Bonne nuit, my champion." You blow him a kiss.

"Ethan, stop that." You laugh, watching him throw his nerf shots at you and Kylian. "Attack your brother, not me."

You three were back in Paris. You were lucky to get one small break in the same days Ethan got one.

"Let's drive to moms house. She will be mad if we are late for lunch." Kylian says.

You let him get up from the couch. You didn't want to go, first because she invited Kylian only and second because you already sense the tension.

"Go pick the car you want to take." You say to Ethan.

He nods excited and runs to the garage, ready to pick the lost luxurious car his brother has.

"Out your shoes on, we have to leave." Kylian says, jokingly smacking your thigh with his hand. "We don't want to be late."

You don't want to say no, but you can't just pretend you got sick in the whole minute he went to get his shoes.

"Are you sure she invited the two of us? Maybe she just wants a family only kind of lunch."

"Amour, you are family." He laughs, kissing your lips. "Plus, I think she's finally starting to open to you. She asked about you yesterday."

You wait for him to turn to roll your eyes. She did ask, but to know if you were in the house not to see you around when she arrived.

"Okay, let me get my shoes."

You grabbed your shoes, make sure you looked presentable, add some perfume and brushed your hair real quick.

"Let's go, my passenger princess." You joke with your boyfriend. Smacking his ass on your way out.

You three drive while listening to Ethans Playlist. Kylian and him were talking about a game Ethan has.

When you arrive at their mothers home, you parked. "Go inside, say hi to your mommy." You joke with him, grabbing his cheeks and squishing them.

"Rude." He pouts. Leaving and walking inside.

You exit the car slowly. You feel two hands on your shoulders. Knowing exactly who it is. "Ethan, you can't scare me."

He laughs, hugging you. "Missed you, can't wait to spend some time with you two in Madrid."

"I can't wait either, missed my little baby brother." You kiss his hand that you were holding.

The connection between Ethan and you was something nobody could break. He trusted you with his heart, and you trusted him with yours.

You two laugh at something he says to you as you walk in. You see that Melissa and the kids were there, Fayza and her sister and Kylian.

"Bonjour." You say to them. Noticing the dirty look Fayza gave you.

The rest say hello back to you. You talk with Kylians aunt, telling her about the foundation work you are doing in Spain.

The table was an 8 set. And you notice how the husband of the aunt is there. You feel weird about having to ask for an extra chair.

"Here, take my seat. I'll just grab another." He says.

"Oh, it's okay, I can't get the extra one. Please."

"Fine, but if you want it at any point, tell me." He smiles.

You grab a small stool, sitting next to Kylian, who was talking with Lana. "Bonjour, Lana." You smile. She returns the smile to you.

You notice how Fayza is serving the plates, mad expression on her face. You feel so bad about thinking coming was a good idea.

"Everything alright, mom?" Ethan asks. Noticing her face.

"Oui, just fixing something. Got extra people I wasn't expecting."

Ethan looks around. Not understanding the comment. "But, we all are here."

She just shakes her head. "I just think it's rude to come without an invitation." She whispers to him. But not quiet enough for Kylian and you to hear.

Kylian was about to say something, but his aunt was quicker. "Wait but I thought this was a family thing, and we all are here."

"Tout le monde ici n'est pas de la famille, je le dis simplement." She says. (Not everybody here is family, just saying.) Looking at you for a second.

You understood every word she said.

Kylian got mad at the comment. You were family. You were the girl he picture himself growing a family with.

You are the girl who left her whole life just to move to a foreign country for him to follow his dreams.

"Nous sommes tous une famille ici." (We all are family here) He says, mad at the comment. You grab his hand that was on his thigh. Trying to calm him down.

"And we even invite Tchaga and my friend Bruno." Ethan says.

"They are family, she is not."

Thinking about her not seeing you as family was one thing. But her telling it to your face was another. It hurted.

"Maman, c'est-" kylian began.

"Kylian, it's okay." You interrupted. "I'm leaving. Please don't start anything. This is your mother, and she's right. I'm not invited."

You try to get up, but his hand on your arm pulls you down to your seat again.

"Maman, she's not leaving." He states. "She's family to me, to Ethan and to dad."

Fayza drops the fork she's holding. Laughing at how brave and funny her son looks. "Vous continuez à rêver de choses que vous ne pouvez pas obtenir avec elle." (You keep daydreaming about things you can't get with her.) She says, knowing you don't understand much French.

"Miss Lamari, I'm leaving. I'm sorry." You get up, quicker this time for him to catch you. "I'm sorry." You say to everyone.

"Acting like the victim." She laughs. "Maybe that's why your mother doesn't like you." She smiles, knowing she just hit a soft spot.

You got quiet, looking over at Kylian, who was in shook at her words. "I'm sorry if I intruded your lunch. I'm leaving now."

You were about to walk out of the room when you hear Kylian calling your name. Making you turn your head. He was standing.

He walks over to you, grabbing your hand. "You crossed a line that I don't think you can return to. I understand you feel like every girl that got close to me was there for the money and shit, but she's not."

"Kyl-"

"No." He says louder, he's angry. "She's the woman I'm going to marry someday. She's the person I live with and who left her entire life here just to support me in my career. She's going to be the mother of my children, you like it or not." He squish your hand a little harder.

He turns to look at you, feeling hurt at the tears in your eyes.

"And if you don't apologize, then you can get used to the idea of not seeing me. Because if you don't like her around, you don't like me either."

He turns, pulling you to the entrance of the house. He slams the door behind him. Grabbing the keys and opening the car door for you.

"Can you drive?"

You nod, whipping the tears and smiling at him. "Je t'aime." You grab his face, kissing him.

He hugs you tight, resting his forehead on yours. "Let's go home, yeah?"

You nod. Pecking him. "Let's go home."

The drive was quiet, you didn't feel like talking, and he didn't know what to say.

He felt hurt by the words. He thought it was just his mother being uptight with you, but it was more.

"I'm sorry about her." He grabs your hand.

"It hurts, but I know I have you." You hug him, enjoying being in his arms. "That's all I need."

"No matter what she thinks or what anyone thinks, you have me, always will."

[ozzgin]

Is it just me or can I imagine a yandere with a darling who’s immune system and possibly everything about them just screams weak and pathetic, BUT their darling is actually very strong mentally and has and will create the most fucked up, batshit crazy inventions from what used to be harmless to something that can help them escape and possibly destroy everything in its path.

But at the end of the day, they become sleepy koalas who hug whoever is near them and fall asleep :)

This could be a request or rant, whatever you can think of! I just wanted to see how different yandere writers would interpret this small imagination of mine <3

But as always, stay safe and take care! everyone needs a break some time to time~

Sorry, but the moment I read the Darling's description, I instantly thought of Dr. Finkelstein from Nightmare Before Christmas. You know, Sally's inventor. 😭 So let me quickly write this down while I'm in my Shelley vibes, because I like the idea a lot. With a little twist, if you don't mind. :)

Yandere! Monster x Inventor! Reader

A frail inventor, and their affectionate rag doll that has been carefully stitched together for the purpose of a caregiver. An artificial existence, trapped within the confines of your lonely tower. Or so you might think.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior

"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..." [Frankenstein]

You dangle an old, rusty bell for a good minute before leaning back in your chair. The barely audible chimes are quickly swallowed by the loud, mechanical groans of the gears and engines occupying most of this room. No matter, his ears are good. You picked them yourself. And surely enough, within moments, the door to your laboratory opens and someone cautiously walks in.

A tall, slender man. Or rather, something meant to resemble a man. The skin is a clumsy patchwork of blues and grays - you're no talented seamster, sadly - gathering together the body parts in what feels like a parodic attempt at mimicking God and his image. You gaze at the creature approaching you with a tray of tea and sweets. Scarcely your best work, if you must adhere to honesty. Regardless of the quality of your labor at the time of creation, you are proud of the result. How could you not be? You know this man better than you know yourself. Every organ, every artificial nerve cord, every blemish and stitch of his body was placed according to your intentions. A masterfully detailed project that took you years to complete; not an easy feat considering the lamentable state of your health.

"Here's your deadly nightshade tea." The man places a small, porcelain cup on the desk. "Do let me know when I should take you to bed, (Y/N)." You wave your hand dismissively and stretch out your limbs. "Not yet. I am almost finished", you respond, returning to the mound of metal scraps and pipes before you. "Can I ask what you're making?" The pale creature lowers himself to your level, a curious smile plastered on his face. "It's a mechanical heart", you reveal boastfully. "Like the one I have?" You run your hand through the creature's hair affectionately. "Almost. I'm testing out a different way to build the valves, for a more efficient pumping cycle." You continue to explain the intricacies of your novel mechanism, occasionally sipping on your tea. "Who knows, you might have a sibling in the near future."

The man's smile drops in an instant, and his sunken eyes widen at your statement. "What? Am I- am I not enough?" You glance at the creature as he becomes increasingly frantic. "Don't speak nonsense. If it comes out alright, I'll upgrade your own parts as well. I'm a disciple of scientific virtue, of continuous improvement." Nonsense? Vile treachery! You might've chiseled the brain that throbs within the walls of his skull, but his mind is his alone, and you seem to lack a fundamental understanding of his feelings and thoughts. His ardent confessions of love are met with mockingly pitiful grins, in the way a parent soothes a needy child. Even now, your eyes reflect nothing more than sympathy towards his protest. A childish tantrum is what you're most likely thinking. You've no time for emotional bagatelles. He can read you like an open book.

You simply won't understand. There is no place for a stranger in the life he's crafted with his very own hands: you, and him, and the evening tea with a side of butterscotch biscuits, and the bedtime talks, and the stripped branches of the decaying tree that rap at the windows on stormy nights. You might be the Inventor, but he is not just a mere, humble servant, a rag doll to be tossed around or toyed with. As you will soon discover, after all.

You awaken in the midst of night with your temples burning from a much too familiar headache. Although it's not just the pain that has disturbed your slumber. You can hear rattles and thuds coming from the upstairs laboratory. An intruder? Oh, your creations! The sound of glass breaking and metal scraping sends you into spiraling despair. You fumble to reach the nightstand, patting the surface in search for the bell and keys. You shake the handle in a panic, unable to find anything else in the darkness.

The chaotic rustle abruptly stops, followed by descending footsteps. You hold your breath as the chamber door opens, but it's none other than your creature. "Another flare-up? Shall I bring you some medicine?" the man asks with monotonous courtesy. "What have you been doing? What's all that noise?" you demand, agitated, but upon lifting yourself off the mattress you discover your legs are numb and uncooperative. The man hurries to your bed with a worried frown, and you hear the familiar clatter of the keychain coming from one of his pockets. "Have you taken my keys? Cease this foolishness at once!" Indifferent to your reproach, he places a firm hold on your shoulders and forces you back down, tucking you in effortlessly.

"You must forgive my impertinence." he says in a pleading tone. "I do not wish to impede the works of your genius. As your partner, however, it is my duty to prevent you from making mistakes." You furrow your eyebrows at his words. "What mistakes? My invention was flawless!", you argue fervently. "Indeed it was, but not its purpose. What need have you for another being?" It is the creature's turn for a passionate speech. He stands up with a confidence you don't recognize and continues: "You should know by now that I am fit to perform any role. That of your servant, your caregiver, your lover, or anything else you may desire. You can resume your tinkering starting tomorrow, but such blasphemies to our bond as the one today will not be tolerated." He straightens his vest and reaches for the door handle. "I will prepare some tea to help you rest."

Inconceivable. Your own creation, built with your own hands...Has something escaped your attention? His dialogue is deranged, tainted by madness. "Have I done something wrong?" you mumble to yourself, deep in contemplation. "Nonsense." the creature turns to face you briefly. "It was you who created me after all. Everything is perfectly splendid."