#I hate drawing his eyes 🤍

[stompysoap]

Respectfully bouta jump off my bed. 🕺✨

Gave him two different expressions just for funsies- first time drawing Koku and I'm loving him.😌👍 However I do not appreciate how god damn difficult it is to draw his six eyes 🧍‍♂️

[talaok]

Love your writing! Could we please do a cute pregnant reader x Pedro going to and at the SAG awards in honour of our boy winning! 🤍🙏🏼

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x pregnant!reader

a/n: this is how i found out he won btw. I'm so happy for him i cant even, I just love that fucking guy gosh ahhhh (as always this request skipped the line bc it wouldnt make sense in a month)

Gif credits: @tessas-thompson

"thank you" you told him as he emerged from underneath your bump after having slipped your shoes on for you.

Turns out that when you're 7 months and a half pregnant, the most basic tasks like putting on shoes become a two person job.

He only smiled, kissing your belly and then your lips before standing up, offering you a hand to do the same.

"Heels would have looked much better with this dress" you pouted, studying yourself in the mirror, 

You hated ballerinas, but again, you weren't really in the condition to wear anything else.

"You look stunning sugar" he promised, kissing the crown of your head

You couldn't help but snort.

As much as he told you so over and over, together with everyone else in your life... you still struggled to see it, especially now in this uncomfortable dress.

"I look like a stuffed turkey" you sighed "and my boobs are so much bigger than when I first tried this dress, now they look a move away from spilling out"

His eyes twinkled with kindness, with love as he placed his hands on your waist and turned you towards him, away from your reflection.

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he promised, one hand now stroking your cheek as your own hands went to his waist "You're sexy and gorgeous and so fucking hot that if Coco wasn't still here I would demonstrate just how much right here right now" he growled, not giving you time to answer before he kissed you, soft at first, and then once you whimpered, it was like a switch turned and he was fiery and passionate and his left hand trailed to your ass and-

"Pedro!" you scolded him quietly, eyeing Coco on the other side of the room.

"she's seen worse"

She had.

Nonetheless, he took a step back, returning his hand to your waist.

"Thank you" you murmured, looking up into his hazel eyes "and by they way, you look very beautiful too"

You could have sworn you saw red staining his cheeks 

"thank you baby"

You adjusted his shirt, as you got lost in your own mind.

There he was, you beautiful, talented, Emmy, golden globe and SAG award nominated husband, looking every bit as perfect as ever.

And just like that, tears pooled in your eyes

"what's wrong?" he asked, worried

"I just-" you sniffled, trying to fight the tears as your lips trembled "I-I'm so proud of you"

"aw sweetheart" he cooed, half laughing as he wrapped you into his arms.

He'd gotten used to it now, taking care of your over-emotional self was part of his daily routine.

"Y-you just" you cried "you worked so hard a-" another quiet sob "and n- now you're finally getting the recognition you deserve I-"

"I know baby, I know" he cooed, softly kissing the top of your head "thank you" he smiled, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your back "It means a lot to me too,"

"I love you" you murmured, finally raising your head to look at him

"I love you too honey" he kissed you, laughing softly as he pulled back to see tears still running down your cheeks "You're gonna cry the whole night, aren't you?"

"I made the makeup artist use only waterproof products" was your way of saying yes, yes I'm going to, and yes I've already planned ahead

He chuckled, kissing your forehead as his hands trailed to your bump, soft kicks hitting his palms.

"She's excited" he murmured

"She's proud of her daddy too" 

__ __ __

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro P-

Your husband. they had called your husband.

It was probably comical from the outside, seeing the shock on both your faces as you stared blankly at each other, the way your mouth gaped open, while he slapped a hand onto his, it was like- it was like time had stopped, and the word went completely quiet, until- until-

"oh my god" you breathed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him so tight it probably hurt

He didn't dare speak a word as you leaned away, landing a kiss on his mouth as you gripped his face 

"go" you laughed, grinning like an idiot as tears glimmered into your eyes "go" you urged again, this time, having him comply.

You watched every step, every move, until he was right in front of the microphone, his award in his hands.

"This is umh" he mumbled "This is wrong for a number of reasons-" 

he was in shock, his voice trembling, his eyes watery, but he kept going

"b-but thank you hbo, Bella Ramsey, Craig Mazin, Neil Drukman, Frannie, and -" A shaky sigh fled his mouth, as he chuckled to himself "jeez louise I'm making a fool of myself and my wife is gonna make so much fun of me for it and-"

All the sudden his eyes were on you, 

"my wife" he smiled, his smile brighter than the sun "I wanna thank my beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and perfect wife" he said "I love you y/n, I love you and our daughter more than anything in this world and if I'm here today- If I'm here today is mostly because of you" 

You were shaking from how hard you were crying, from how happy, ecstatic, and euphoric you were for him.

"You've made me the happiest man on this earth, you've made me a dad, you- you're my everything sweetheart" he beamed "so thank you"

He stopped a moment, as if realizing only now this had all really happened

"And now I'm gonna stop talking 'cause I need to get down there to kiss you and try to make you stop crying" he laughed, ending his speech

"thank you, everybody, really, thank you"

__ __ __ 

He did exactly as he said,

he held you tight as he kissed you like the world was gonna end tomorrow, like if he didn't he was gonna die

And when he leaned away- when he leaned away time stopped once again, but as he pressed his forehead to yours, as you lost yourself in each other's eyes, you remembered

"You said it was wrong" you said, both your hands holding his face "but it's not" you shook your head, watching his eyes water "you deserve this baby, you do"

"sweetheart-"

"no" you shut him off, your voice hoarse from the sobs, but it didn't matter, you wanted him to know, you needed him to know "No I need you to understand that you do baby" You smiled "that you worked your ass off and that you deserve every single inch of this award" you took a deep breath, steadying your voice as you looked at him, so many unspoken words traveling between you

"ok?" you asked, finally

"ok" he beamed, kissing you again "God I love you so much"

[wcters]

𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗣𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt with a girlfriend who is obsessed with naps/naps all the time

warnings/notes: established relationships, will probably be shorter than the last one 🤍 sorry

- you need coffee all the time

- or just any caffeine

- always nursing a red bull or iced coffee

- probably stopped working to keep you awake after awhile but you gaslight yourself into thinking it does

- you have woken up in matt’s bed with chris beside matt who’s beside you

- like hello? when did you show up and it’s too squished

- slipper socks . . . you have cold feet a lot

- you force matt to take his shoes off if he’s going on the bed. no matte how clean they are

- will not let him leave your naps

- have your own pillow and pillowcase at his house

- always have bags under your eyes

- sometimes you can’t sleep without matt

- like you have to be touching him somehow: legs tangled up, hand holding, something

- have a playlist of just phoebe bridgers songs to fall asleep to (same)

- love stealing and sleeping in his boxers and his shirts

- you’re one of those girls who will just wear shorts and a shirt but refuse to put anything else on if you get cold

- you’ll either cuddle up to matt or get more blankets

- MELATONIN GUMMIES

- you take em’ if you are just not falling asleep cause that happens

- have definitely fallen asleep in matt’s lap or something while he’s playing video games and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up or tell you you’re in the way

- like that feeling when you have to get up when you have a cat in your lap

- sleep in a starfish position unless matt’s there

- nick, chris, and matt have so many 0.5’s of you sleeping

- #mouthbreather

- you’ve almost fallen asleep while you’re out for dinner

- have a shirt/sweater that says ‘i’m tired but i’m being brave about it’

- fall asleep to true crime

- talk about the most confusing and existential stuff and then fall asleep like nothing

- people complain you sleep too much? your just a girl 🎀

- when someone asks you to hang and and you say your busy your probably just taking a nap

- you and matt are always down for a nap

- you’re a sleepy couple

- you will set like 10 alarms to wake you up because you’ll either snooze them or sleep through them

- you always have cold water and chapstick near you when you’re napping/sleeping

- soooo delirious when you first wake up

- you prefer the room or wherever you’re having a nap to be cold

- not like freezing but under the temperature you’d usually have the house/apartment

- sleep focus? 🔛 no one is getting to you unless it’s an emergency

- you’ll text everyone who might try to reach you

- ‘i am having a nap, will not answer for anything cause i’ll be asleep 😌😌’

- matt has gifted toy essential oils or bath salts to help you sleep

- christmas morning with you SUCKS and you admit that. you hate waking up early

- matt will have to drag you out of the room

- all pissed at him and everyone else until you get your gifts or go back to sleep

- fall asleep during movie nights

- you can sleep anywhere and will

- the triplets will get home from somewhere and you’re just on the couch or sitting at their dining room table asleep

- if you don’t want up, matt will just pick you up and carry you to your room

- you’ve dropped your phone on your face before cause you fell asleep watching it

- you won’t admit it out loud . . . but you love asmr

- have a playlist of your favourites

- passenger princess, sleeper edition!

- has a headrest pillow you bought

- blanket ready to go and chair laid back if no one’s behind it

- matt draws shapes on your back

- will nap with best friends

- talk and talk and let everyone know how much you love naps

[lullxby]

niccolo bf headcannons, how would he be with his gf, particularly a shy girl :))

oh my gosh he’d be insufferable (but also the sweetest guy ever?)

i did this with a few headcanons and a short imagine cus i didn’t know what one you’d like! enjoy!! 🤍

- this boy would love to see you get all flustered from his compliments, or hide your face to not let him see how red it’s getting. - if you were diverting your eyes from him for whatever reason, he’d definitely make you look at him - “lemme see that pretty face” - “c’mon ma, i don’t bite” - “unless you want me to” - all jokes aside, if someone were to talk over you when you were finally trying to speak your mind, he’d make sure you knew he was paying attention atleast. - “shut up and let her finish, yeah?” - he’s the only one allowed to tease you for how flustered you get - someone else goes “oooh she’s blushing, nicco, look whatcha do to her,” - he is pissed - “yeah? what about it?” he’d snap, knowing you wouldn’t want him to be too rude, but simultaneously not wanting you to be embarrassed - he’d def say some choice words to them later, regardless of if they were his friend or not 😊 - if you wanted him to, he’d order for you at a restaurant, or things of that sort

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you and niccolo were sat on his couch, with brando and vittorio sitting beside the two of you, chatting mindlessly about something trivial. you had your legs splayed over niccolo’s thighs, his hands holding them in place.

you were reading a book, one that he had gotten you a few days ago, his excuse being he had just saw it and remembered you wanting it. the reality had been that he had waited for it to be released, just to be able to purchase it for you as soon as it did.

either way, he’d never forget the way your face had lit up when he presented it to you. with your expression, it could’ve been guessed that he gave you some crazy expensive gift, rather than just a fifteen euro book.

the boys continued talking, though nicco’s gaze kept flashing back towards you, as if he couldn’t bare to draw his eyes away for longer than a couple minutes.

you finished the chapter you were on, putting a small slip of random paper in as a bookmark.

he turned towards you, noticing the look in your eyes. it was always like he could read you like the books you always had your nose stuck in.

brando and vitto turned the conversation to just be between the two of them, letting niccolo talk to you rather than them.

you started chatting about the book, slowly changing subjects into how your day was. he listened close, occasionally nodding you along so you felt more comfortable letting him know about all these things.

that was, until brando started tapping the boy’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. you stopped talking, wanting niccolo to be able to talk to his friends, not wanting him to feel obliged to listen to you ramble.

this made him suddenly frustrated. he could’ve dealt with the incessant hits against his shoulder. but now that you had stopped talking, now that he wasn’t able to listen to your sweet voice, he was upset.

“bro, ‘m right in the middle of a conversation here, fuck off,” nicco sassed towards his friend, causing him to hold his hands up defensively and turn back to vitto.

then, his voice softened as he looked back towards you, “go ahead, babe, ‘m listening,” he urged, his eyes scanning over your face.

you shrugged, “it’s fine, you can talk to your friends,” you assured, opening up your book again.

“c’mon, please,” he practically begged, just wanting to hear more about how you were doing. he disliked doing this in front of his friends, as he hated for people to see the softer side of him, especially people like vitto.

still, he’d do anything for you, and he’d do it a thousand times more.

“tell me more about the girl you saw in the halls. what was her name? ludo?”

it was as if a switch in you flipped, as you nodded at the mention of your friend, going into a more in depth story about the dark-haired girl.

you had no clue what was yet to come with her.

baby taglist: lmk if you’d like to be added!

divider by h-aewo!

[tomblythismyhusband]

hiiiii this is a request for billy!!!

what about a smutty fic where reader is riding billy while wearing his hat!? 🤍🤍

the only reason why i didn’t make this anon is so i can get the notif if you reply 😭😭

ride [billy the kid x fem!reader]

[summary]: billy the kid x fem!reader | When at a party your father was throwing, you meet Billy, a cowboy that spikes your interest.

[warnings]: 18+ MDNI, teasing, pnv, fingering, language, other smut warnings yk, edited this at 2am

[wc]: 2.8k

[note]: thank you sm for the request!! y’all are creative

You hated it when your father threw parties at the ranch. They always got too crowded, too loud, and way too dangerous. You see, cowboys and alcohol weren't always the best mix. Groping hands and lustful stares always came along with it. Your father always wanted you to be present at his little gatherings, to socialize or whatnot.

You dreaded small talk with the other girls present and weren’t interested in any of the drunken cowboys that always made fools of themselves trying to woo you. You stood there, arms crossed, pressed against the wall. Observing. The air was thick with smoke, the smell filling your lungs causing your nose to scrunch slightly.

“How’s it goin’ lil lady?” A voice sounded from your right, causing you to wince. You could practically smell the whiskey of the man’s breath without even turning to face him. Deciding to be polite you directed your attention to the man. It was a blonde cowboy. He was about 5’8”, not insanely tall but not short either. He had an unsettling feeling about him that made you feel immediately uncomfortable.

You gave him a strained smile. “It’s going well.”

The cowboy gave you a drunken smile, leaning his shoulder against the wall limply. “I like yer dress, lace is my favorite. Why… ain't you just a doll.”

You kept your smile, your cheeks hurting with tension at the forced action. “Thank you.” You replied, giving a curt nod.

The man drew closer, making your chest pump with anxiety. You always hated when men thought they could invade your space just because you were a woman. You took a slight step back causing the man to let out a low chuckle.

“You nervous doll? I ain’t gonna hurt ya. You know if you’d follow me I know a nice place we can… well you know….” He slurred, drawing one of his hands up to touch one of the strands of hair cascading over your shoulders. You jolted back, immediately slamming into someone.

Firm hands placed themselves on your shoulders as you ran into whoever it was. You turned your head, looking up quickly. “I’m sor-“

Your eyes connected with the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. You hadn’t thought the phrase “taking your breath away” was true until this moment. You couldn’t breathe. The man before you was gorgeous. Soft brown curls peaked out from under his hat that he wore, framing the sharp angles of his face nicely. The light freckles on his face indicating he’d been in the sun.

“You ok?” He said in a low voice, snapping you out of your trance. You glanced at the blonde cowboy who was still staring at you as if you were a piece of meat. The brown haired cowboy cocked an eyebrow, noticing your discomfort and pleading eyes. He cleared his throat and stared at the blonde man.

“Were you botherin’ my lady?” He asked accusingly towards the man, stepping slightly in front of you. God he was tall.. he seemed to tower over you. The blonde cowboy’s face immediately paled.

“N-no I wa-“ He stuttered.

“No? Then get the fuck out of here.” The brown haired cowboy snapped.

The blonde cowboy gave an incoherent mumble before storming away. You released the breath you were holding in and looked up at the gorgeous man who had just helped you.

“Thank you. I hate talking to men like that.” You sighed. The man laughed. (which made you realize how perfect his lips were as well)

“Men like that?” He chuckled.

You nodded. “Always too drunk and grabby all the time. No respect for anyone’s space.” You made a face of disgust that made the man before you flash another lopsided grin.

“Well.. anytime.” He gave you a smile “What’s your name?” The man asked, leaning up against the wall and crossing his arms. He stepped back, respectfully giving you room to talk. The action alone made your heart thump as your eyes trailed up his body. Even through his shirt you could tell he had some muscle to him.

“Oh- Uhm.. Y/n. Y/n Charles.” You nodded.

The man’s eyes widened. “Oh so this is your ranch? Your father’s always throwin’ parties like this huh?”

You gave him a weak smile. “Yep.. fun right?” You said sarcastically.

He let out another chuckle before looking at you again.

“Billy.” He said lowly, slightly bowing his head.

You tilted your head. Where had you heard that name before? You tried to jog your memory but it was no use. Maybe you had heard your father talking about him, or maybe some girls down at the salon.

“Billy..” You repeated, smiling up at him. “I like it.”

Billy chuckled. “Glad you like it.”

It was weird talking with Billy. You felt a bubble of desire in your stomach that you had never felt when talking to any other man. Now all of a sudden you were imagining his hands on your body, his lips on yours. You thought of his hair, wondering how it would feel if you’d drag your fingers through it.

You stared up at him, and he stared back. It wasn’t awkward, no, it was almost as if you both had an understanding. An understanding of mutual attraction. Billy wet his lips.

He leaned a bit closer, his scent filling your nose. “I know we just met but… your intrestin’ to me.” He said in a low voice.

A small smile pulled at your mouth. “I could say the same…”

Billy leaned in even closer, breath brushing the outside of your ear gently as he spoke. “We could go to your room.. get to know each other better?” His voice was rough, full of unsaid desires that made your heart palpate.

“Are you implying something a lady should be ashamed to talk about?” You teased in a whisper. Billy let out a low chuckle.

“Is that where your mind is at?” He taunted, meeting your gaze. You reached up your fingers and dragged them against the brim of his hat.

“Would it be bad if it was?” You smiled, cocking your head slightly. Billy smirked. He liked how playful you were being.

Billy’s hand found yours and he squeezed it gently, pulling you closer to him. “No… It wouldn’t.” He murmured, making your breath quicken.

You made a little tsk sound and pulled away from him. “You think I’m that easy?” You chuckled. “Nice try cowboy.” You cooed, tapping the tip of his nose playfully. Billy’s eyes widened briefly before his mouth pulled into a smirk.

“Your decision darlin’… See ya, gorgeous.” He tipped his hat then turned to walk away. You watched as he sauntered back into the crowds of people. You bit your lip as your mind replayed the interaction you just had with him. He had called you gorgeous. You couldn’t deny the fact that you found him insanely attractive- perfect even. Why were you playing hard to get? You weren’t sure why.

You continued to roam about the party, talking mindlessly with the ladies there. You tried your hardest to stay engaged in the conversations but your thoughts were still on Billy. Would it be so bad to fool around with him? Even if it was just for tonight? You couldn’t ignore the pulsing feeling in your core when you thought about it. Fuck it.

You excused yourself from whatever and whoever you were talking about quickly and started to glance around for Billy. It was still insanely crowded in the house, causing you to have to constantly say “excuse me” just to get anywhere. You searched the living room for his blue eyes but he wasn’t there. You felt a pang of fear that he had just decided to leave.

Gracefully, you slipped out of the living room and started to make your way down one of the dark hallways of your home. It was empty. The loud clamoring of the party was still heard as you walked, heels clicking on the creaking floorboards.

The bathroom door was also in this hall. You heard it open and turned. There he was.

“Billy-“ You said breathlessly. Billy’s mouth quirked up into a smirk.

“Y/n. Nice to see you again.” He joked.

You walked closer to him, tilting your head up to make eye contact. “Do you want to….”

“Yes.” He replied roughly, cutting you off before you could even finish. He grabbed your hand and led you down the hall and up the stairs, causing you to let out a little chuckle.

Once reaching the top of the stairs, you led the way, guiding him to your bedroom door. You opened it quickly. Billy was the first to step inside, pulling you in after him and immediately shutting the door. He looked around for a moment, taking note of what kind of girl you were. Your bed was made, the room tidy, and flower patterns on almost anything.

“Like it?” You teased, meeting his piercing gaze. He chuckled.

“Darlin’ do you have the key for the lock?”

You nodded quickly, striding over to your beside table to dig for the key in one of the drawers. Once found, you hurriedly locked the door with a simple click.

Upon hearing the sound Billy instantly grabbed your hips and pushed you up against the door. You dropped the key onto the ground, not caring where it ended up. You just wanted Billy right now.

You felt Billy’s bulge pressed into you, making you gasp. By no means were you a virgin- but you weren’t used to this.

“Fuck doll…” Billy rasped. “I don’t know how respectable I can be to you right now..” His grip on your hips tightened. Billy was restraining himself. Even though all he wanted to do right now was to tear off every piece of lacy cloth you were wearing he was holding himself back. You snaked your hands up to place themselves on his shoulders.

“Don’t hold back- I’m all yours tonight.” Before you could even get the last word out, his lips were on yours. The reassurance was helpful, making Billy feel as if you really wanted this. Which you did. Desperately.

Billy’s lips worked against yours with a roughness you’d never known you’d liked. One of his hands wrapped around your neck, pulling you flush against his lips even more. He tasted sweet, the softness of his mouth making you almost melt into him.

He still had his hat on- which you didn’t mind, you liked it. You soon felt his fingers leave your hips and neck and trail down and move to your back, where the laces of your corset were. His hands moved quickly, untying it with ease. You lifted your arms up and broke the kiss as he pulled it off of you and threw it to the side.

His hands then pulled at your dress as you took his lips back onto yours, unbuttoning and buttons needed and letting it slip off your shoulders and onto the floor. He parted from your lips to look down at the lacy cami and cloth shorts you were left in.

“Darlin’ you're just too much.” He groaned, his hands cupping your ass.

You smirked up at him and moved your hand to slide down one of his suspenders. “Let me see you.”

He complied instantly and started to tear off his clothes. When he lifted his shirt you could help but gasp. He was toned, muscled, scarred, perfect. He threw his shirt to the side and you reached a hand to trace a faint scar on his abdomen.

“Knife fight.” He said softly as he unzipped his pants, loving how curious you were. Your hands felt soft on his body, so gentle.

Your eyes flicked up to his. “You're perfect.” Billy chuckled at this, pulling your body closer to his as his pants fell to the ground.

“You're one to talk. I’ve ain’t never seen anyone as gorgeous as ya..” He reached up to take off his hat, but before he could throw it aside you grabbed it.

“Darlin what-?”

“Shh….” You coaxed, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed. You pushed him gently to sit, and he immediately complied, liking this side of you. You put on the hat with a giggle and shimmied out of your cotton shorts. Billy’s cock twitched in his underwear at the sight. It felt like you were torturing him, depriving him of the touch he starved for.

Next you slid off your cami, letting your breasts sit nicely on your figure, throwing that to the side as well. You stepped forward and bent down slightly to place a palm on Billy’s bulge. He immediately let out a pained moan. “Your tourturin’ me doll.”

You giggled as you ran your other hand down his shoulder. “I could go even slower.” You teased.

Then unexpectedly Billy grabbed your hips and pulled you onto him, causing your let out a yelp of surprise. Billy immediately places his lips on one of your nipples, kissing and swirling his tongue around the area.

“No fair.” You gasped. His hands ran all over your body, as well as his lips.

Billy let out a chuckle, the voice sending a vibrating feeling through your body. “Another second and I would’ve gone crazy darlin’.”

You melted under his touch, his calloused fingertips adding to the realness of his hands. You pulled your fingers through his hair as he kissed your collarbones.

“I need more.” You whined.

Billy smirked. “And to think you had brushed me off the first time I offered this to you down stairs…..”

“Please-“ You begged again. Billy cupped your ass in response to lift you off of his lap so he could yank down the only fabric of his boxers separating him from your cunt.

You looked down at his cock as you straddled him. It was big, you’d never seen one this big before. You bit your lip, Billy squeezed your hips and kissed your jaw.

“Ready darlin’…” He mumbled against your skin. You nodded and he lifted you up, positioning your body over his throbbing cock. You sunk down letting out a strained moan as he filled you up. You were now sitting entirely on him, stretching out the walls of your soaked cunt.

“Take me s’good.” Billy rasped as you started to grind your hips. One of your hands flew up to hold Billy’s hat that still was placed snug on your head. You were so wet he slid right in, no issue. You slowly began to move up and down with Billy assisting you by lifting your hips.

You tilted your head back, squeezing your eyes shut, still keeping the hat on your head. Breathy moans escaped your lips as you moved. Billy picked up the pace, slamming you harder down onto his cock rhythmically.

“Fuck-“ You whimpered as he let out a groan.

“Ride me so good..” He mumbled. His own head was limp as he moved you faster and faster on his cock. Right now you were perfect. So tight. Molded perfectly for him. Your free hand dug into his shoulder. The nail marks left on him would be deep by the end of this.

You rode him harder as tears prickled in your eyes. Every time he slammed into you your body vibrates with pleasure. The tip of his cock hitting your g-spot with precision.

Billy took one of his hands off your hips and moved it to start massaging circles on your clit, adding to the pleasure. You paused your moment for a moment, not expecting the added stimulation. You head slumped onto Billy’s shoulder, body shaking.

You felt Billy’s mouth brush against your ear. "C' mon darlin’.. I’m almost there… You're doing so well.” He praised.

You gave a weak nod and started to move again, a throaty moan escaping Billy’s lips. With his fingers on your clit and his cock slamming your walls you were in heaven.

“Almost there doll.” He groaned again, kissing your neck as you moved on him, your stamina decreasing by the second. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, a sign that you were getting closer.

“Billy-“ You breathed, arching your back, holding his hat still firm on your head.

“I know darlin’, I know..” He murmured as he closed his eyes and let his mouth fall open. You watched as he came, filling your already overstimulated cunt with his cum. Your orgasm hit you as well, sending your body into a fit of shakiness.

You became still, his cock still throbbing with pleasure as you clung to him, your bodies slick with sweat. Billy brushed some of your hair from your forehead and kissed it.

“I like how you kept my hat on.” Billy smirked, looking down at you. “Suits ya.”

You let out a breathless chuckle. “Thank you.”

You tilted your head up to kiss his soft lips. He seemed so tender now, so gentle.

Finally after a while of kissing you slid off of him, cum dripping down your thighs.

“When can I see you again Y/n?” He drawled, holding your waist so you were still close to him.

“Anytime you want to get your hat back.” You teased.

Billy’s eyebrows raised with amusement. “You keepin’ it?”

You kissed his nose. “It’s mine now.”

[daenysthedreamersblog]

STRANGERS II - HIS DARLING BLUEBELL

I tried to be good. Am I no good? Am I no good? Am I no good?

If I'm turning in your stomach and I'm making you feel sick

part one here

summary: your victory tour has ended, and snow throws a party for you to let the bidding war over you begin. but as the time for the final deal draws closer, can president snow truly part with his favorite little victor?

pairings: president!snow x district6! reader

warnings: MDNI! swearing, heavy drinking, non/dub-con touching / kissing, choking, dub-con, fingering, oral sex, power imbalance, slapping, spitting, me trying to describe hair styles, let me know if i forgot anything!

notes: hope you enjoy part two! tysm for reading 🤍

You couldn't sleep without two bottles of wine at least while also baring the train car door with a chair to keep him out. He never came or else you would have heard the banging. He would have tried and most likely succeeded breaking down the door and once again violating your space. You knew it would only enrage him more, locking him out, but it gave you some sense of peace. Allowed you to find sleep underneath piles of blankets surrounded by empty cups.

You also knew if he asked you nicely you would open the door in an instant, and you hated that part of yourself the most.

The train had stopped a long while ago and you waited for someone to retrieve you. You had removed the chair and sat there peacefully until the Avox came within the room beckoning to follow. You did, you followed them off the train and onto the concrete platform. Taking a deep breath, the smoke from the train blowing off into the winds; you found strength in the scent, found yourself wishing that puff of smoke was blowing you away with it.

President Snow was gone leaving you in worried silence wondering what corner he would be lurking around.

The tribute center hadn't changed in the months you had been gone and the ride up the elevator was actually nostalgic. How different life had been back then, how afraid you were for different things. It dinged on the sixth floor allowing you off and your feet gravitated to your old room. You peered to the right, to the door that would never open again revealing the freckle faced boy you had come here with. He had died in the first five minutes of the games and you never knew his name too caught up in your own woes about dying.

"Good afternoon miss." A bright smile greeted you. "President Snow sent me." She was flanked by two others opening kits of instruments and fabric and colored makeup. She had her hand around your back ushering you to the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up for him hmm?”

The chill went through you; for him. It might be a figure of speech since he was the President and everything was always inherently his. You lived in his districts, you won his games, you would always be his property, and maybe that’s why he felt a right to your body too. You let them strip you, let them wax and pluck and shave down every part of you until your skin was raw.

They sat you down and styled your hair into elegant waves down your back slicking your bangs against your head and behind your ears to let your hair hang permanently over your shoulders and down your back. They airbrushed makeup onto your face covering your lids in gentle colors, putting a soft pink gloss on your lips. And finally when that was done, when they had rubbed your body down with sweet smelling lotions and perfumes, did they slip on the dress.

It was white, a slight sparkle to it when the light hit it, off the shoulder sleeves hanging against your biceps a slight cowl neckline and bodice that hugged your waist, cinching it in tight. The skirt stopped at your feet the two stylist sliding you into white heels.

"You look absolutely ethereal." The stylist mused running fingers along your hair to get it perfect, smoothing down any stray pieces. "An image of innocence." Your eyes flashed to her, pride gleaming in her face, but the others. They seemed sad, almost ashamed as they turned away from you. "Final touches." She slipped the red rose corsage along your wrist the disgusting smell wafting up to your face. "Perfect. Now wait here until he comes to fetch you."

They left like they came, quickly and without many words leaving you in a heart drumming silence. The room felt like it was caving in and suddenly your breaths were hard to find as panic choked you, the bodice of the dress squeezing your lungs. You spun, gripping the back of the chair to walk, soon grappling for the armchair wanting to rip this dress off so you could breath. You forced an exhale out wrapping your arms around the back trying to rip it off. You couldn't do this, couldn't go out there and let him sell you, let him sell your body. You could hear your heart beat throbbing in your throat as you stumbled over to the small cart holding liquor white knuckles holding onto it to stay standing. You snatched the cap off, throwing it across the room and chugged the burning white liquid down until your insides felt on fire, until most of it was gone.

You threw it at the window, watching it shatter to pieces, but the window never broke trapping you in with light reflected shards of glass. You grabbed a bottle of wine off the cart, fell to the floor with a sob, dizzy and heavy with grief. Maybe you deserved all of this after everything, after killing that boy, after surviving, after some elder family member had rebelled. You ripped the top off the wine and drank deep wallowing in self-pity until your doom came for you.

The door open and closed without protest, no chair would keep him out anyways. You listened to the short clips of his shoes as he came around and stood behind you like a shadow, like a guardian angel. He tsked, squatting down, turning your face towards him. He looked immaculate in a white suit, a single red rose pinned to his chest; a perfect opposite to your ensemble.

A single tear rolled down your cheek as you stared up at him with scared eyes, "Please." You whimpered. “Don’t make me go out there.”

He raised his eyebrow, an amused look on his face, "Oh my darling bluebell." His hold on your face tightened as he yanked you forward forcing you to throw your hands out to brace the floor, "My good little bluebell." His eyes flickered around your face, a cold rage settling in and then his hand was around your neck stealing the breath out of you. You gaped at him, mouth opening and closing trying to force the words out, trying to claw up his arm to pull him off, but he only yanked you closer, bodies flush as your vision split and blurred. "As it is given...it can be taken away." He hissed pressing a bruising kiss to your lips, his hand loosing, the gasp opening up your mouth for him to slip inside.

His tongue was dominating, shoving down your throat as he attempted to devour you whole. It was a mesh of teeth and tongue; his kiss starving, hungry, like the Capitol never gave him enough food and he was planning to eat you. Fingers were digging in, carving out a place for him to control, breath by breath he took out of your chest until finally he pulled back, a string of spit trailing between the two of you.

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him why he was doing all of this, but the words failed as your wide eyes flickered around his face.

He stood up and went to the door leaving you waiting in a pile of tears and broken glass. He opened the door, "Call Tigris." He instructed to someone outside of the door. Then it closed again, and he took a deep breath, your eyes flashed up to him as he readjusted his pants, the hard bulge in them prominent. He clicked his tongue hands resting on his hips as he stared at the ground, and then down at you still shaking on the floor.

Then he threw off his suit jacket. "Fuck it."

He came striding forward once more with purpose, lust blowing his pupils wide. "No!" You cried out falling back on your butt, crawling backwards until your leg snagged on the dress and you went tumbling to the ground. You rolled trying to scramble to your feet, but his hand had wrapped around your calf where the old scar still sometimes hurt. You clawed and kicked at him, "Please!" The sob broke out, feeling him pushing the pretty white dress up, the unbuckling sound ringing in your ears too loudly. "I've been good! I've been so good." You shook your head as he pinned your legs down with his hips. "Please Mr. President sir," Tears rolls down your cheeks. "Haven't I been good? Your good girl, please don't do this." You tried to fake tenderness by running your fingers down his arm, but nothing stopped him. It all fell on deaf ears as his hands found the hem of your underwear and he began to pull down. You thrashed more, cried and clawed at him, but he seemed content to ravage you.

"Coriolanus." A woman's voice shot through the room and he stilled atop of you hands slowly leaving from under the dress.

He sighed, his forehead pressing into yours as if it had been such a ruined intimate moment. He began to climb off, straightening himself up again. "Tigris." He said smoothing down his hair. "Get her cleaned up I'll be back in a half-hour."

You laid there in silence listening to him leave, listening to the door close with his exit the sound throbbing in your head. She finally came around staring at you disheveled on the floor. "Come on." She grabbed your hand helping you up, and back into the chair in front of the vanity. It wasn't horrible considering all that had happened. Your lipstick was smudged with small marks of mascara tracks down your face, which she solved in a matter of minutes. Your hair had only needed a quick brush and more spray to fix. Then you were perfect again; like he had never touched you. The feeling remained; his hungry lips on yours, his devouring hands. Your lip began to wobble as water welled, "Don't cry." You blinked up at her, "Please." She whipped out a handkerchief and dabbed at the corner of your eye to prevent the liquid from spilling over. "Are you alright?"

You only stared at her with furrowed brows at the dumbest question she could have asked. You pushed her away gathering shaking breaths as you turned from her.

"He..." She sighed still looking at you. "He is...he just..." You glared at her over your shoulder and she dropped her voice, "I'm sorry he is doing this you."

"If you were sorry," You seethed letting your anger show. It was rare. "You wouldn't fix me up so he can sell me like a prized mare!"

Tigris frowned truly saddened by the words taking a step back like you had slapped her. "I'm sorry." She said again grabbing her things and beginning to retreat. "I'm sorry." She went to the door opening it, "Coriolanus." She said staring up at him. "Can I speak w-!"

"Go." He gritted out as she stumbled out of the door and into the hall. He slammed the door behind her. He stared at the closed door for a second, took a deep breath, then turned to take you in once again, "Perfection." He smiled as you slowly turned to fully look at him. He came forward and your foot slid back, "Oh my little bluebell." He mused continually moving for you. "I didn't mean to mess up your makeup." He took your hands in his not really offering anymore of an explanation. "Can you forgive me?" He kissed your knuckles staring at you expectingly from under his lashes.

What were you to say to the president of Panem? No?

"I forgive you, Mr. President, sir."

He beamed, hands coming around your face, "That's my good girl." His thumb caressed your cheek, "Now give me a kiss." You sucked in a breath and let him guide you to his mouth pressing your lips to his own. He hummed gently against you, tongue sweeping along your bottom lip, but he pulled back your gloss shining on his plush mouth. "Don't want to make us late." He pushed stray pieces of hair off your neck and tucked your arm in his elbow to lead you out of the room. "I have a few people I want you to meet..." He kept talking but you drowned him out as he walked you down the hallway his grip borderline painful.

He ushered you out into the hall with ohs-awes echoing around everyone straining to get a look at the Capitol's pet until the next games rolled around. Snow was speaking motioning to you and once everyone had toasted to him, the Capitol, the games did he begin to pull you around the room; a pretty accessory on his arm.

"Isn't she lovely." He said introducing you to a herd of men staring greedily. You stared ahead, far away as you heard him whisper about you, something about being well behaved, a few chuckles followed and pocket books opened, "Come," He opened his arm wide for you to walk forward. "Introduce yourself."

Your name sounded foreign, like it didn’t belong to you anymore as you shook their hands. "Nice to meet you sir," With each pleasantry and curtsy. It went around and around until you felt dizzy with each turn you made to meet someone new, someone who wanted to buy a body because 23 others had died. For some reason it made you curl against your fearsome President more as if he would stop these vultures from descending upon you; how ironic. You tugged on his hand to make him look. How dark his blue eyes seemed to get seeing you clinging to him like a savior.

"What is it?" He dropped his voice his hand patting yours.

You gazed up with pleading eyes, "I need a drink."

"Yes, of course." He leaned lower stroking your chin, "Not too much remember?" You nodded as he straightened up and smiled.

"Will you excuse me gentlemen?" You peered at the circle of buyers.

One had his arm wrapped around your bicep and your eyes flared up as he yanked you, "I can walk you over there."

No, no, no. You wildly searched for Snow behind his tall frame, and didn't have to look for long as a hand appeared on the man's chest, "Get your hands off her before I have them removed from your body." His voice was low. The man scoffed. This is what they were there for; me, and their president was stopping their grubby, money stained hands. Snow stepped closer, "Did I not make myself clear."

The hand fell off you and you rubbed the redness, "You promised that we-!"

"I didn't promise anything." Snow stood tall staring down his nose at the man. "Especially not to you." He waved a hand and you heard peacekeepers moving in, his eyes met yours, "Go."

"Mr. President, sir." You hid the shake in your voice as you slipped away hearing the whispers of praise about the view walking away was giving them. You didn't look back as you charged to the refreshments table grabbing the expecting flute from the servant's hand. You chugged it swiftly before anyone could notice and then forced them to refill. This time you drank it slower, body still lagging from the liquor you had drowned in earlier. If you kept in a constant daze everything felt a little more distant, like your drunk mind had made it up, fabricated the story.

"He sure does seem to like playing with you." Your head snapped to the young woman, the victor from District 4. "Mags," She smiled. She slid up besides you, nursing her own flute of champagne, "It gets easier."

"When?"

She chuckled, "When they get bored, when other victors emerge. You got bad luck, you're the first female victor since my games." Which was four games ago, "They're salivating simply to smell you." She took a sip from her flute, "You should have never told him you were a virgin."

Your eyes were wild. "H-How?" Don't stutter darling, your mother's voice, It isn't proper.

"You think he wouldn't 'leak' that to the posse he sells us all to?" Mags shook her head, "It's made mutts of them all."

"It was an accident." You took a shaky breath remembering that day on the train. "I thought something was going to happen and I wanted him to st-!"

Her hand grabbed your arm, "He's touching you?" Her grip grew firm, "Isn't he?"

You drained the flute to avoid her seeing your horridly confused face, "Did he not..."

"No, never." Her face held genuine concern. "Some minor comments, but no he never. Didn't parade me around on his arm, didn't coordinate outfits," Mags scoffed, "He made me wear this ugly teal thing as homage to my district." You couldn't speak, couldn't seem to settle yourself. "Maybe because of the whole new victory tour he felt he could get away with more. He does like his power-trips, and you're such a obedient little thing. His cock probably is straining in his pants just looking at you all pouty." You set the flute down holding your hand to your head to stop the thoughts from pouring out, dizzy with her words. They felt so brutal like the blows were hitting you in the heart. "Oh dear. I'm sorry I really never know when to shut-up." She turned you to face her, "It's alright. Here." She grabbed a fresh flute of champagne and forced it into your hands, "The first time is the hardest, after that it gets easier and once they get bored it will stop. You need to be strong okay?" Her hands ran down the skin of your arms as if trying to warm your soul. "It will be over soon. I'm here. I understand, all the victors do."

You drained your flute like it was the air you needed. "Why is he doing this to me?"

Mags only frowned sadly, "I don't know. I used to hear stories about him, before he was President. Rumors says during the 10th Hunger Games he was a mentor, but theres no proof, everything got wiped. Afterwards, he got shipped to District 12 for some rules he broke during school. When he came back he was different; he came back that man." Your eyes landed on him across the room, and he was watching you over the rim of his glass. "Something changed in him out there, and ever since he's been working his way to the top, keeping the Games, making them more brutal and publicized each year."

"What do I do?" You pleaded with her.

She tried to smile taking your hand, but it never reached her eyes, "Be careful. He's dangerous, and let's just say, I'm surprised anyone is going to bid for you seeing the way he keeps you so close." She had this look indicating she wasn't sure what was worse; the leeching men or Snow's protection. It wasn't sound advice, but you tucked it close because what else were you supposed to do; burn the Capitol down.

No one person couldn't do that.

You glanced back at him, anger laced in his stare as men talked at him.

You knew which was worse.

It was midnight by the time you stumbled into your room kicking your shoes off towards the far end of the wall and grabbing the brown liquor you had left from earlier. Your stomach garbled with hunger, but you just tossed the glass decanter cap away hearing it shatter behind you and pushed the bathroom door open. You turned the faucet on setting the glass container down to attempt to undo the bodice of the dress. You got half way down before you gave up unable to reach, too tired, too drunk, too ogled at to care. You climbed into the tub, decanter in hand, the water soaking into the fabric weighing you down as you slid into it. How pathetic. How was this the epitome of desire, a drunken, wet, sad little girl.

Maybe that was how they liked them.

You turned the water off with your foot as it sat just under your chin, wet hair floating around you. You took another long drink eyes heavy, brain swirling with everything Mags had told you tonight. You couldn't make sense of it all, not now, a part of you didn’t ever want to figure it out, it was simply too much to dissect and what good would it do. He was still going to sell you off to whoever he wanted until your name was a joke they spoke over whiskey.

Ugly red rose petals floated around you from the ruined corsage around your wrist. Your ears were underwater, the idea of drowning yourself more appealing the more sleep pulled you under. The water dulled the sound of the bathroom door closing, but there he was staring down at you in the bath. He was dressed down, his suit jacket gone, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, his perfect hair slightly curled in some parts. He almost looked normal, handsome even if you allowed yourself to admire it. You picked your head up as he knelt beside the tub, "You could have called for help to take the dress off."

"I was impatient." You took a swig from the bottle a glare in your eyes.

"I can tell." He chuckled, his fingers dancing on the edge of the water, playing with soaked rose petals, urging you to disagree with the movement. "I saw you speaking to Ms. Flanagan.”

You glanced over at him. He was expecting an answer and you couldn't tell him the true meaning of the conversation or else Mags could get in trouble. "That it must be nice to be President Snow's favorite victor." You took another drink, "I told her that isn't true, it would be wrong of you to pick favorites."

He smiled to himself, "It isn't wrong; I do have a favorite."

“Did he not…"

“No, never.”

You knew he wasn't lying, knew in the way his eyes drank you in he wasn't lying. He took a deep breath, folding up his sleeves, coming around the back of the tub, "I did a lot of thinking." His hand came up to your neck, running down the wet flesh, fanning your hair out of the way. "And you were right." His lips were pressing against your jugular kissing down and across your shoulders his hands following the same trail.

"About what?" Your chest was rising and falling too fast vision blurring, brain clouded.

His mouth was against your ear, "You have been so good to me." He bit down on your ear. His hand was dipping further into the water until it was fighting your heavy skirt to get underneath, "And I've been so selfish."

You froze as you watched in horror as his hand disappeared underneath the skirts of the dress. He shifted his other hand coming around to float down your chest. He was under the hem of your underwear as your lips parted in a gasp feeling the slide of his fingers against your folds. Your hands were coming up to stop him, "Mr. President plea-!"

Two fingers sunk into you. You cried out, hips bucking at the contact, but his other arm slammed you back into the tub, "Shh, shh, it's okay." He whispered into your ear. "It will feel good." He kissed your neck, his other hands slipping under the neckline to grip your breast. You had your claws in his arm as he slowly moved his fingers inside of you.

Conflicting feelings began to arise within you, you felt fear at the intrusion, but your face burned as pleasure shot through your body. It shouldn't feel good, but he said it would, and so it did. Him touching you this way shouldn't bring a blush to your cheeks, an aching throb to your core. He was curling his fingers inside of you stroking a deep sweet spot you could never reach on the nights you had tried to explore your own body. At the same time his thumb brushed over your nipple kneading your breast into his hand.

You felt your hands slipping off of him.

"Let me make you feel good. I know you want to, can feel your pussy sucking me in." You chewed on your lip turning your face from him as your knees involuntarily curled up, spreading you open more for him, "There you go," his husky voice said in your ear as he once again shifted to push his hand inside further, the other squeezing your breast. You bit back the noise gurgling in your throat; no your body had betrayed you enough, you would not let him hear it too. "I saw you," He panted nearly engulfing you with his chest. "I saw you looking at me, clinging to me, begging me to save you from those men who want to take you from me." His thumb swirled around the sensitive bud between your legs and your hand shot up twisting into his shirt, toes curling, "I wanted to fuck you in front of them all, watch them drool as I take what is mine and not theirs." His thrust were vicious, his thumb pressing down, the other hand pinching and rolling your nipple. "Mine." He hissed against your hot skin.

You threw your head back against his chest the moan breaking from the confines of your throat. His eyes were there to greet you, his hand pulling off your breast to wrap into your hair forcing you to stay put, to keep staring at him. Because he wanted to see your face as he made you come undone, as he burned through you like wildfire. Yours eyes screwed up, fast pants leaving your agape mouth, and all you could do was keep his gaze as he brought you to the peak of ecstasy.

"Cum for me," He growled, "Be my good girl and cum right now." Maybe it was the trained etiquette built in, maybe it was him, but your body clamped down on his hand stars spilling into your vision as you came. It felt like betrayal; it felt wrong to let the pleasure leak out of your body as his hand stayed rooted within you. His mouth was on yours stealing breath from your lungs as he shoved his tongue between your teeth. It was possession and ownership and it was all his to command. His bit down on your bottom lip tugging until his teeth broke skin, and then he was kissing you again the taste of rust filling your mouth, brain unsure what to feel but the pain oozing from the open wound and the delicious pulsing between your legs.

You couldn't kiss him back. Couldn't do anything but lay limp in the water for him. You came down from the high he had given you confused as the bliss danced down your spine. Until finally his hand slipped out of you, the emptiness tugging in a weird place and you stared at him blankly. He kissed your lips again, gently like it would break you. Your bottom lip was trembling as he pushed you forwards undoing the rest of the dress. It felt so wrong, everything, he had violated you in a such a way and you had let him because your body couldn't avoid the pleasure he had made you feel

He pulled you out of the soaking dress, and picked you up from the bath, head lolling against his chest. You were naked and dripping when he placed you on the bed not caring enough to even dry you off as stray red petals clung to your skin. He was still pawing at you as you stared up at the ceiling, hands on your naked flesh, nails digging in where he wanted to grab. "So soft," You heard him mutter his mouth tasting along your body, drinking in your moisture.

Your head was somewhere else, the alcohol, the orgasm, the exhaustion was dragging you under. You couldn't quite see him anymore, "Please," You mumbled his tongue circling your nipple, fingers inside your sopping cunt once more. "I'm so tired." Tears were rolling down your cheeks, or was that simply water from the bath? Why were you crying if it felt good? He hadn't forced himself inside your mouth, inside you, he was rewarding you for your good behavior.

"Shh." He only hushed you. "Close your eyes." You did close your eyes unable to keep them open, a soft whine leaving your throat as he pushed your legs apart, "Look at you," His voice sounded underwater he was still speaking, but you couldn't hear him anymore his hand viciously thrusting inside of you. "Do you like that?"

You were whispering something, but couldn't feel the words your head being pulled into the pillow fingers clawing at him, for him.

"You do." You felt warmth between your legs and soon his head was there, his tongue licking up the center of you a smile beneath it all.

You orgasmed one more time before blackness pulled you under.

You awoke to an empty bed. You groaned barely able to open your eyes the air hitting your bare chest. He had left you here, alone and drenched in your own arousal. Your thighs were soaked and sticky his own pleasure splattered across your breast. You wanted to sob, each shaky breath hurt your ribs, but the tears never came. Because as you stroked your fingers through everything he had pulled out of you, you knew you had let this happen, you had let him do this to you. Your body had given itself over willingly to him as you rubbed the proof between your fingers. You wanted to feel shame; you wanted to feel broken, but all you felt was left over euphoria from what he had given you.

He had never fucked you; you would have known. You would feel the pain of something like that, see the blood as he broke through your maidenhead. No, he had just feasted on your flesh, drained every drop he could and abandoned you here. You rolled over, body sore from what he had done and slowly rose from the bed.

Then you padded to the bathroom, reran the bath, and soaked his touch off.

The stylist team came again, Tigris came again. Curling your hair, pinning it half up-half down, smearing on more makeup, and sliding you into a chiffon lavender dress. Another image of innocence; a sweet girl pliant for men.

"How are you?" She asked placing more foundation in a mark he had pressed into the flesh on your neck. He had tried to be careful, biting and bruising what no one could see loosing control most of the time, but you saw it. Saw the outline of every half moon cut he had made, the teeth indents of his mouth, the deep blues and purples littering your skin. He fashioned himself an artist; your naked body was his masterpiece signing his name is white pleasure.

You blinked up at her, "Why me?" You didn't think you could trust her with the knowledge Mags had told you; that he had never touched her, and instead singled you out.

Her brush slowed, "I don't know."

"I'm no one, just a girl from District 6." You glanced down as she pulled her hand back. "I'm nobody."

"You're not." She whispered. "You're a-you won." Her back was to you as she set down her things, "He..."

You waited until she turned back around to look into her eyes, "He's a monster." She saw some goodness in him that wasn't there and you had no idea why.

Tigris was abhorred. "I don't know why he's doing this. He's possessive and his obsession drives him mad sometimes. I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She packed her things quickly leaving the room in a panicked rush as you sat in silence.

An Avox came by an hour later leading you down the elevator and out where a sleek black car waited on the curb. Your heart stuttered as the door was held open for you a hand outstretched to help you inside. He was sitting within, red leather seats sinking you in. "How did you sleep?" He brushed a knuckle over his lips to hide the smirk as the door closed behind you.

"Good." You lied. It was deep, but waking up was jarring. You still felt the ache of his touch inside of you, the feel of his mouth wrapped around your clit. "Thank you Mr. President, sir."

His hand fell on your thigh. "I'm having you moved to the mansion." He told you, "I don't like you being so far away where I can't protect you." You swallowed the look in your eyes asking him, from what? "These men are desperate for you," He stroked your leg an attempt at a reassuring look in his eyes. "I'm afraid at what they might do before a deal is set. I want you close, where I know where you are all the time."

He wanted you in his cage, but he did have a point. "Thank you Mr. President, sir." Your heart thudded heavily in your chest. You didn't want a deal set, you didn't want other men hunting you down and taking more pieces of you. "Are we..." You gazed out the window. Are we going to one of them now, you wanted to ask.

"Yes and no; he'll come by the house later. I think you'll like him." He turned towards the window. "I want to show you something first." The drive was quiet. You were too afraid to ask anymore question in fear it would break your resolve further. He kept his hand on your leg and when the car stopped he held onto you tightly leading you away from the road towards his home. "You showed me yours; I think it only fitting I show you mine." He whispered close to your ear gripping around your waist as he led you down a side path towards what seemed to be a large greenhouse.

"Oh." You said staring up at it. It was a formidable beast defiantly more kept than your lousy garden at home. Was it even home anymore? You weren't quite sure of anything anymore. He had given you no inclination on when he would let you return. Perhaps when the 'deal' was set you would be allowed to leave until a new victor emerged. He opened the door for you leading you inside letting it click close. The room was covered in roses, just roses. "It's beautiful," You lied taking it all in. He had every color, but white roses took up most of the space, like they were beginning to dominate every root in the soil. It was too pristine, too clean to be anything but frighteningly horrid.

The greenhouse door locked into place, and your breath halted with it. You focused on a blooming white rose running your fingers along the soft petals. You don't know why the idea of being alone with him still scared you when he had seen you at your most vulnerable. "Did you enjoy last night?"

"The party was wonderful." You absentmindedly said; it wasn't what he was inquiring about.

He chuckled his footsteps slow coming closer, "Yes it was a nice party for you," He was standing behind you now. "Everyone was enchanted by you," He trailed his fingers down your skin. "They wouldn't stop talking about all the different ways they wanted to fuck you," His chest was pressing into your back as his hand slithered around your body coming up to your neck to grip your jaw, "But I got to taste your pleasure first, got to feel the softness of your tongue around my cock, got to hear all the pretty noises you make." Your throat bobbed feeling the hardness press into your backside as his thumb pressed into your bruised lip. "I know you enjoyed last night, my darling bluebell, by how drenched my face was buried in your sweet cunt for hours."

Hours. He had been there for hours between your legs, touching you, stealing from you, feasting on you while you were blacked out. You couldn't speak, couldn't move as the vision choked the air from you, his mouth dragging along the tense muscle in your neck.

"Do you still feel me down there?" He was bunching up the skirts of your dress. And maybe deep inside your brain it remembered him drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you because your body heated, your core grew slick. Treachery coursed through you at your body, at the fact it was less weary of him than you were. "You're fucking wet." He laughed as if he too was astounded by the moistness gathering in your panties as he rubbed his hands along the front of them. He became ravenous after then shoving his hand inside of you with such a force you fell forward. Potted plants clattered to the ground in a pile of dirt and glass, but he didn't care. He only shoved his hand deeper his body curling around you, enveloping you, "You're so fucking soft; like fucking rose petals." He pressed a third finger inside of you and you bit down on the scream, a small whine floating through the quiet air as he stretched you open. "You want my cock inside of you don't you?" He bit down on your neck, "You want me to fill you so badly, you want me to be the one to do it."

"No!" You cried out as he slammed your chest to the table the plants once sat on. The room was filled with the squelching sounds his hand made every brutal thrust into you, your arousal dripping down your legs. You gripped the table feeling him pulling your skirts up around your back, ripping off your underwear leaving you bare for him. You knew deep down your body would take him, suck him in greedily, allowing him to live there while you writhed in agony and embarrassment. Maybe it had something to do with the small power you felt that he was unable to control his desire for you, or maybe it was simple need. Wicked, cruel thing human nature seemed to be, she laughed at you while allowing him to take more, more, more.

You kicked your leg out trying to buck him off, but he slammed your head back down slapping your backside harshly, "Behave." He growled. You yelped as he slapped you once more his hand pulling out of you. He held you down by a large hand on your head as you squirmed, listening to him unsheathe himself.

"Please," You whimpered. "Please you don't want to do this. You-you said...you'll ruin me for your deal and-and-!”

He spit in your face the warmth of it landing along the corner of your lips and cheek. It trickled into your mouth and your tongue darted out for more. "Don't stutter." He yanked your hips back, "And be my good girl and fucking take it." You were crying now, crying as more wetness slipped out of you, crying as he ran his cock along your folds, crying as the tip of him lined up with your entrance, crying as you wanted him inside you so badly it burned.

A knock on the glass door stilled him before he could push inside of you and you nearly passed out from relief. "Sir?" Someone called inside, "Your guest has arrived."

You were taking large gulps of air every shake of your body rocking against the tip of him. "I'll be right there." He shouted back angrily. He was motionless behind you a deep frustrated sigh the only reminder he was there, a few moments from taking what he so desperately wanted it seemed. "Get on your knees." He pulled your body up and forced you to the ground, bare knees scraping in the broken glass. "Open your mouth." Your body relaxed as you took him; you knew this, you had been through this, you could take it, mouth moist from his spit. He wasn't as kind as before, if you could even call that kind. Forcing his cock to the back of your mouth, snapping his hips against your face as he yanked your hair around to move your head, "So good. So," Snap. "Fucking," Snap. "Good." He had your face buried within his skin as your tongue involuntarily swiped around him feeling his movements stutter at the unwarranted sensation. "You fucking like my cock inside your mouth." You weren't sure, but it was becoming familiar and the safer option, and you didn’t mind the taste of him. He reached down grabbing your hand pulling it to the shaft swirling around it with your palm, "Do it yourself sweet girl, do what I tell you."

So you did. You did what he wanted you to do, swirling your hand around the shaft, took his cock deeper until you gagged letting the spit spill out of the corners of your mouth. Your tongue ran along the head until his movements grew erratic and his thigh became taut hot ropes of cum spilling down your throat.

"Swallow it." He commanded snapping your jaw shut after he pulled out. "All of it." His breaths were heavy. You gazed up at him feeling the remnants trickle down your throat. His eyes were dark, demanding, obsessive. "I want you to kiss his cheek with my cum still on your breath." He left you on the ground as he went to the door. "Clean her up, get her ready for lunch." He called to some servant.

You glanced down at the dirt staining your chest from where he slammed you, the blood blooming on the dress from your scraped knees, your smeared makeup no doubt. You let them help you up and cart you back to the house.

An hour later, and now a pink dress covering your skin, you sat down at the table. It was a small thing, set to fit only six people in a small room cascaded in sunlight. The windows were open letting in warm air and a breeze that ruffled the curtains. He sat to the chair next to you cutting into his food while he spoke to you...buyer. The highest bidder.

The man was handsome, maybe a tad older than the darling President, but not by much. He had dark hair and darker eyes a slight shadow of a beard gracing his features. He wore a light blue suit that was almost tacky compared to Snow's deep green. You shook your head at the ridiculousness of comparing the two, comparing the buyer to the seller.

And yet, President Snow's presence comforted you, which in turn disgusted you. It gave you a headache and you drank dainty sips from your cup of sparkling wine hoping to avoid the feelings this afternoon was invoking from you. A mere hour ago he was shoving his cock down your throat, and you had savored the flavor of him. Now he was wanting money for your virtue. You glanced across the table once more.

You had won the games, and this was your peace they had promised.

There was no winning. Only surviving.

He left after an hour long lunch barely speaking to you at all, but when he left he grabbed you. He pulled you in close hand blatantly spread across your back side as he forced you to kiss his cheek. Could he smell it? Could he smell his President's cum stuck between your teeth?

When he left Snow had an anger to him which surprised you given the fact he was the one pawning you off, he should be happy.

Your eyes met, sunlight heating your back from the window as you watch his teeth grind together never looking away from you. Then your face began to fall, knees wobbling, at the realization of the reason behind his anger.

He forced you away without another word.

PART THREE HERE!

( its disgustingly smutty so bring holy water )

notes: this had WAY too much plot sorry lmao

tags: @astarborntowrite , @genderfluid-anime-goth , @merlieve , @darktrashsoulbear

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey🤍 may I please request a fluff/romantic or Bi Han. I know a lot of people don’t think he is capable of being romantic but a girl needs some fluff for Bi Han please. Maybe something were he is sweet and caring only towards reader and everyone else he is normal Bi Han. Love your writing thank you🤍

This got shoddy at the end of the drab. 🦦

You were lost within your own head for while when Bi-Han had appeared at your side, gingerly taking your hand within his own, drawing a gasp from your lips as you felt his cold fingers intertwine with yours. ‘Bi-Han. You’re here.’ You breathed out, smiling instantaneously upon being greeted with the beautiful dark eyes of the man you had happily promised your heart to. Your grasped his hand tighter, almost as though you were checking if he was actually with you, rather then some illusion you’ve coincidentally conjured up.

‘Of course I’m here, little bird.’ Bi-Han told you whilst pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, letting them linger there for a while before pulling away to gently rest his forehead against your own. His eyes locked on yours, as though he were fearful to look away in the instance that you wouldn’t be there when he looked back. ‘For I could never be content as to keep you waiting for longer then needed.’ He adds as he took this moment to ingrain you eternally within his mind, so that he may never forget who he was fighting for, who he was carving a better future for and who he would vigorously defend till his last breath escaped from him.

Gods did Bi-Han hate being separated from you for long periods of time, truly believing that one day Kuai Liang and Tomas would try to enact revenge for his supposed betrayal, by taking away the one person who gave him true purpose in this life; you. However he couldn’t completely disregard his duties as Grandmaster, for it would be sacrilege. Bi-Han was forever grateful that you never held that against him, and instead fully understand that he couldn’t fully commit to being your lover when there was so much work yet to be done.

‘If it was for you?’ You inquired. ‘I’d wait for as long as I must to see my beloved home safe and sound. So you needn’t worry in keeping me waiting.’ You finished as you then softly pecked his plush lips, cooing softly once pulling away from him, enjoying how Bi-Han fruitlessly attempted in following after your lips. For a man as cold as ice he was quite warm and gentle, but you knew he was only like this for you and you often times felt spoilt by being blessed to see this side of him; The side of him that would constantly hold you face in between his hands when checking you for injuries, his thumbs stroking the skin of your cheeks with such gentleness, as though he thought you were going to break. You even saw Bi-Han during his most stubborn and his most angriest of moments and yet still you called him the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met because to you that was the honest truth.

‘I just don’t want to wish you being bored of me when I come home.’ Bi-Han admitted softly. ‘You deserve a man who is willing to be at your beck and call, to be with you from the early hours of morning, to the later hours of night. You shouldn’t have to settle for less because you feel as though that’s all there is going for you, and instead you should strive for more for you deserve more, way more then any man could possibly give.’ Bi-Han truly meant what he said, he truly believed that you deserved better, never to tolerate less, for he felt like he wasn’t giving you all that he possibly could and it pained him greatly because you’ve him so much throughout the duration of your relationship.

Bi-Han only felt as it was only reasonable to give you an out shoulder you feel as though you weren’t being valued enough, as he always tended to put you and your well-being first and foremost in just about everything. But you saw what he was doing almost instantly and you weren’t about to allow Bi-Han to make a offer a solution that’ll only end up hurting the both of you because despite his tiering duties as Grandmaster, he was a dedicated, loyal and caring lover. You couldn’t have to ask for a better man and never would for Bi-Han was it for you, he was the one.

‘Bi-Han.’ You murmured, taking your free hand to hold his cheek, stroking it reassuringly as you watched him visibly relax within your hold, moving his head to kiss your inner wrist. ‘To be bored of you would be like to be bored of living for while you are a very busy man, you are the most attentive, sweet, caring man I have ever met.’ You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose before brushing your nose against his, breathing him in as deep as you could. ‘Not once have you ever made me feel less important or less valued. Never. You made me feel worshiped, you made me feel loved, you always found room for me within your busy schedule, and I could never find a appropriate way to express my gratitude to you but I hope to everyday.’ You concluded, hoping that you had gotten your point across that you weren’t going anywhere without him.

‘You don’t need to express anything to me, my beloved,’ Bi-Han reassured you, kissing your inner wrist once more. ‘For the sole fact that you still being here with me despite all my flaws is the biggest gesture I could have ever received and I’m eternally thankful that you haven’t yet given up on me. Do it should be me expressing my gratitude, not you.’ Bi-Han finishes. ‘There’s no need for that.’ You assured him. ‘You’ve done enough and you’ve just gotten back from a long mission. You must be exhausted and in need of rest.’ You then began to pull Bi-Han towards your shared bed by his arm.

Bi-Han wasn’t one to complain, as it meant he got to make up for lost time by laying in your arms and leeching off of your warmth whilst putting his aching body to rest, something his soul had yearned to do the moment he return to the Lin Kuei. ‘That sounds perfect, little bird. That sounds perfect.’

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

🤍 SAFETY II 🤍

Two kisses are being placed on her shoulder, right on top of the soft fabric of her shirt, slowly wandering down to the sleeve and finally landing right on the warm skin of her naked arm. She can smell his aftershave already, way before having opened her eyes. She loves to smell him when she wakes up, loves to feel with all of her senses that he’s right there, right with her. His scruffy face presses a few more gentle kisses onto her arm and she can hear him whispering his good mornings onto her skin. His big hand is securely placed around her torso, right on top of the white hotel bed sheets. She groans slowly, her head pounding like she was hit by a truck. For a split second she feels unable to remember what is going on? Why does her head hurt like this? Why is she so nauseous? Why is there an IV drip attached to her hand? Suddenly, these dark thoughts cross her mind again. He told her last night. He told her what happened. 

Even though she feels as weak as she barely has before, Taylor forces herself to open her eyes once. She needs to wake up. She needs to wake up to speak to Tree, to solve this situation, to make sure no one has witnessed her in her unconscious state. With half open eyes, Taylor moves quickly, almost panicky and looks down confusedly to the man in bed next to her. He’s fully dressed, freshly showered, just casually lying on his stomach right next to her. His arm still wrapped around her body, his thumb stroking gently over the fabric of her blanket. He can’t help smile at her gently. Her hair is curly and quite literally everywhere. She’s got the same grumpy look on her face as per usual when he has to wakes her up. She’s never liked getting up. No matter what time of the day it is. 

“Hi.” she mumbles, her voice rusky and still full of sleep. It makes Travis smile quietly. 

“Hi beautiful.” he says, moves closer to her to press a gentle kiss onto her lips. She barely moves her face and he’s unsure if she’s too tired still or uncomfortable kissing him without having brushed her teeth yet. He couldn’t care less about these things, but he knows she does. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks then, moving his face closer to her cheek again to leave a kiss there. 

“Horrible.” she groans, closing her eyes again for a moment. She’s been awake for less than five minutes and already feels exhausted. She takes a deep breath, hoping it will cure her upset stomach or the head that feels like exploding. But it doesn’t help. Of course it doesn’t. 

“Headache?” he asks gently, reaching for her hand to intertwine with his. She’s got her eyes closed again, just nods quietly. And Travis hates it. He hates seeing his girl as sick and weak as she is now. In the past year of loving this woman, he’s not seen her like this at all. Taylor is full of energy and life. Probably has more energy than most people he knows. But seeing her like this, and knowing that another person is the reason for it, makes his blood boil in an unruly way. He knows he most likely broke this guy’s nose last night. But if he could, without consequences, there’d be far worse things he’d do to him.

His thumb is drawing gentle circles on her hand and he doesn’t rush her waking up again. Instead, he just stays right there next to her, watching her drift off again slowly. And it’s quiet between them again. The kind of quiet he’s never been able to enjoy with anyone else. But with her, it’s different. With her, silence doesn’t have to be a form of insecurity. There’s pure clarity between them. Nothing but love, support, honesty. He loves sitting in silence with her, because it reminds him that besides all the earthly things he loves about her… at the end of the day she’s just the purest little soul he’s ever been privileged to know.

“I need to get up.” she whispers weakly then, her voice whiny. He just shakes his head no, getting closer to her hand he’s holding in his and presses another kiss on top of it. 

“We’ve still got a couple of hours until the flight. I just wanted to wake you cause I knew it’ll take a while for you to be alright. Don’t stress about it, baby.” he says, but Taylor just takes another deep breath and carefully tries to sit up. She notices that her hand is still connected to the IV stand next to the bed. Still in disbelief about the events of last night, Taylor just sits up, leaning against the backrest of the hotel bed. She feels dizzy, nauseous. And she can’t believe Travis has to see her like this. She must look absolutely horrendous, that she’s sure of.

“I can call and get someone to remove the IV. The guy last night said it’s a quick job.” 

She nods, rubbing her tired eyes. 

“Thanks. I.. I really need to go to the bathroom. Can you help me?” 

Even before she finished her sentence, Travis has gotten up from his spot next to her in bed. He helps Taylor come to a secure stand, then helps her make her way to the bathroom on the other side of the hotel suite. One hand securely on the IV stand with the small wheels attached to it, the other one holding hers. She’s extremely weak. Just holding onto him with all the strength left in her. He hates seeing her like this, hates to know that he was there when this happened. He was there, but he wasn’t able to protect her. 

“Want me to..” 

She turns around, shakes her head no. 

“I can do it on my own. Some privacy please.”

“You sure?”

“Trav..” she mumbles with slight annoyance in her voice and he chuckles quietly, then respects her wishes and closes the bathroom door behind her. 

~

“Alright sweetie, this is what I got you.” he excitedly places the secured goods on the table at the end of the room. “I got you a full sugar coke with some ice, we’ve got healthy fats in the form of a crispy salmon taco, I got you some chili cheese nuggets, we’ve got some fries and some Gatorade, of course.” the tall man proudly stands there, holding the brown fast food bags up in the air after having just returned from his lunch food run. Taylor, who just got out of the shower, just walks past him and sits down on the side of the bed with her hair dripping wet and her body covered by nothing but the big white towel. 

“Babe, this is very sweet but I literally just threw up an hour ago. I can’t eat.”

“I know, but you heard what the doctor said. You need to eat to actually feel better. Just try some of it, you don’t have to eat it all.” he mumbles while unpacking the food bag. She doesn’t answer him and it forces him to look back at her in confusion. He doesn’t like what he sees. She just sits there on the side of the bed, her chest rising up and down.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks worriedly, dropping everything around him to sit down next to her. Just like a reflex, his arm is now wrapped around her wet towel, the other one resting on her naked thigh. 

“I.. I think the hot shower was.. just a lot.” she mumbles, her face pale and still breathing heavily. He sighs, feels his throat tightening again. He doesn’t say anything, just moves closer to her. Within a second he feels her head leaning on his shoulder and her small hand finding its natural position on his chest. She just melts into his arms and he appreciates being her harbor in this moment. His head turns around towards her and he presses a few kisses onto her wet but amazingly well smelling hair. His big hand moving up and down her naked arm. She doesn’t move, clearly needs a few minutes to recover from taking a shower and washing her hair. His lips won’t leave her head and he feels himself getting emotional again. This woman in his arms is not just his best friend and greatest life companion he’s ever known. This woman in his arms is his future wife, the future mother of his children, the person he wants to grow old with, the only person on this planet he would sit in the trenches with. He wants to die at ninety years old, right in her arms, while looking into those eyes one last time. He knows worse things can happen. He knows she’s been lucky because she’s got people looking out for her. He knows she’s been lucky because she got the medical help she needed right away. Still, this nagging, stinging, horrible feeling of fear and guilt at the same time won’t leave his chest. He wants to be strong for her. He promised himself and her that he would be. But right now in this moment, holding her wet and weak body in his arms almost brings him to his breaking point. He’s always cried too fast and too much, and it’s something that everyone in his life is well aware of. He’s never felt the need to hide it but in moments like these, he wishes he could stay as level-headed and strong as she needs him to be right now. 

His lips continue to press gentle kisses onto her scalp underneath her wet and curly hair. She doesn’t move, just closes her eyes for a moment. How is it possible that whatever drug she was put under keeps making her feel so tired? After a few moments, she then slowly pulls back, looking up at him again. She notices immediately. This giant teddy bear is smiling his biggest smile at her but his eyes are red and watery. She can tell right away he’s been crying.

“Oh baby..” 

“Don’t.” he immediately says, already sinking his head, not wanting her to see him like this. “I’m fine. Just a cry baby, you already know.” he jokes but she’s not having any of it. Her cold hands wander to his stubbly beard. She just holds his face in her hands for a moment, then gets closer to him as he is quicker than her, already steels her forehead another butterfly kiss. A tear runs down his cheek, and it breaks her heart. 

“What’s going on?” she whispers, her hand now securely on top of his sweatpants on his thigh. He takes a deep but shaky breath, shakes his head. 

“Nothing.” 

“Talk to me.” she says with a level of gentleness in her voice that always gets him. He swallows, looking into her eyes again. He’s still crying, but he’s trying to swallow it down. 

“I just.. I love you.” he says, and by the look on his face she knows he’s never meant anything as much as he means these words. His chin is trembling and it does something to her heart.

“And I’m real sorry for last night, baby. I.. I know I sound like a broken record by now, but this shouldn’t have happened last night and..” 

“Trav.” she just says, a big sigh escaping her mouth. “Listen to me.”

Taylor reaches for both of his cheeks once more and lifts herself up to press a big kiss onto his mouth. She can taste the salt of the tears running down his cheek and it moves her. She hates that this beautiful person is crying for her, but it touches her on another level to understand just how loved she is. She always knew that Travis loves her. She knew it from the first day they hung out, right over a year ago. His feelings for her was never anything that was up for debate. But witnessing how badly he wants her to be happy and healthy and well is another form of declaring his love for her that she hadn’t been privy to witness before. She can’t help but smile to herself. This is the kind of love she’s always wanted. This is exactly what she’s always wanted.

“I know this should’ve never happened. But.. I’m okay. I’m okay because you were there. You.. you literally saved my life, Trav. You.. you carried me to my hotel room, you called a doctor for me, you gave me aspirin when I was pretty much unconscious. I still have no idea how you did that.” she giggles slightly and it makes him smile beneath his tears, too. 

“You held my hair when I was throwing up this morning. You just got me disgustingly smelly food in an attempt to make me feel better.” she takes a pause, not sure how else to convince him that none of this was his fault. It never could be. He just gets closer to her again, kissing her forehead once more. 

“You’re just… magical. You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Boyfriend?” he says offended suddenly, and she laughs, rolling her eyes while wiping away one last set of tears running down his cheek. 

“Fiancé, excuse me. Future husband.” 

“That’s better.” he jokes, pulling her closer again. 

“It hurts me that you’re so sad.” she adds then, and he shakes his head. 

“I’m not sad, baby. I just.. I hate seeing you not being okay.” 

“Trav, I am okay.” 

“You’re not. You can barely shower without collapsing, you can’t eat, you’re tired and….” 

“Baby.” she says, a laugh escaping her mouth. “I’m fine. I’m not made of glass. I get sick, I get tired. But I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” 

He nods, suddenly feels a hint of embarrassed for worrying so much. She’s strong, extremely strong and he never wants to make her feel any less than that. His head is sunk, and he sniffles once more, just nodding. She smiles gently at him, her hand stroking gently through his hair once and then presses a kiss onto his big head. 

“There’s gonna be so many times you’ll have to witness me being sick. And I’ll have to witness you being sick. It won’t be fun. But I don’t want us to.. to turn this into a thing, okay? I’ve had a relationship before where our happiness as a couple was dependant on saving each other and you know how well that ended.” 

Travis looks into her eyes and nods. She’s absolutely right. He can be there for her, he can take care of her. But he won’t be able to protect her from the world. Even though he would love nothing more than having this power. 

“Once I’m pregnant, I’ll suffer so much and you will have to endure all of it.” she says then, a twinkle in her eyes that makes him smile again. “Between Abigail and me, I was always the more cranky one when I was sick. She literally is the most pain-tolerating person I know and she told me countless times that she’s felt like dying in the first trimester. So you’ve got lots to look forward to, mister.” she jokes, another little laugh escaping her throat. He smiles at the thought, nods, lets both their noses touch and then kisses her again. But this time, really. He slowly pulls back after a few seconds, leans his forehead against hers. 

“I can’t wait for that.” he whispers against her lips, both his eyes closed, smiling. 

“Me too.” she says, moves her nose once more to tickle his. This is the first time in her life that she gets to talk about these things in a way she always dreamed of. It’s not an if anymore. It’s a plan. it’s their plan. And she can’t wait to do it all with him. All of the things she used to be so terrified of. She’s ready to do it all with him. Finally, she’s ready. 

“I’ll probably cry every time I throw up. And you’ll have to deal with it.” she giggles at him. 

“I’ll cry with you.” he says then and it makes her laugh even more.

“Trav.” she gently hits him. “I need you to be pragmatic and logical when I’ll loose my mind over my hormones. Would be awesome to have at least one person in this house who can think straight.” she jokes and he nods. 

“How much more time do I get to prepare? A year?” 

She grins at him, nodding. 

“You know the deal. No trying for a baby before the wedding. I need good pictures.” 

“Alright. But we can keep practicing. Practice makes perfect, I know what I’m talking about.” he jokes, kissing her cheek once more. And he loves to feel her small hand land on his neck. The thought of their future together is making her as happy as it makes him. He can’t wait to take these steps with her. He can’t wait to just live his life alongside this beautiful person. 

“Trav?” she looks at him again, her hand tickling his chin gently. 

“Mhm?” 

“I love you, too. Let’s.. let’s just forget last night ever happened, okay?” 

He looks at her, his face a bit more serious than before. He hates that she feels the need to just suppress what happened. And really, this is the last thing he expected her to do. He expected tears, he expected long conversations with Tree and her security team. Not this. 

“I’m not sure babe. I’ll try.” 

“Good.” she kisses him once more, then slowly gets up to dry her hair.

~

Travis looks out of the big black car window with the tinted glass. It’s always a surreal feeling to drive across the runway of a commercial airport, especially here in Las Vegas. A few palm trees are still marking the outline of this gigantic airport. The afternoon heat making it hard to see clearly back to the airport halls, the huge building almost almost blurry by the guzzling heat. You never know how gigantic these airplanes really are until you sit in a regular sized car, right in front of one. Travis looks to his right, can see the blonde curly haired woman in her huge sweater, not sure if she’s cold from the AC in the car or whether her tiredness is the reason she had to wear a hoodie at this Nevada heat. 

“I don’t think there’s any paps, babe.” he mumbles then, looking out of the window to ensure himself once more that he’s right. 

“Yeah, but I still want them to shield me with the umbrella. I look horrific.” she mumbles, her voice still a little rusty. It’s inevitable to see that she’s been through it. She doesn’t even look at him in this moment, is just frantically texting on her phone. Her small Gucci handbag half open on her lap and the other bag with her laptop and cosmetics right between them. Traveling with Tay is something that amuses him every time. She’s always got at least two purses with her, a bunch of suitcases (and of course, she never knows which one carries what), there’s always at least two phones flying around the airplane and it’s never been the case that she didn’t forget something on the plane after. He loves this creative, chaotic but loving woman, even though her lack of travel organization is something that might actually drive him insane one day.

“You look great, what are you talking about.” he just counters her and for the first time since minutes, she looks up from her phone and smiles at him. He loves having that effect on her. He loves how she’s not wearing any make up, loves that she’s more comfortable around him than anyone else in her life. 

“I love when your natural curls come through.” 

His comment hits her right in the heart. 

“I don’t.” 

“Well, you should. It’s freaking gorgeous.” he says unbothered, now looking out of the window again. He doesn’t even seem to notice how much these small comments really mean to her. How much her mindset, her confidence, her thoughts, her whole life has changed ever since this has become the norm for her. Someone building her up on the constant. Promises that are kept. Nothing but support and acceptance radiating from him. He loves her. She’s always his priority. Crazy how simple relationships can be. 

Still smiling at the big man next to her, all it takes is one look back at her phone screen and she groans annoyedly. 

“What?” Travis looks back at her. 

“Mom is driving me insane.” 

He grins and the car comes to a stop. 

“She keeps on sending me more things to pick up before dinner. I thought I can just send Alex to Whole Foods but now she wants us to get wine from that Australian store and pick up Kitty from the salon and.. it just never ends.” she says with an annoyed face, letting her phone drop onto her lap like a child throwing a tantrum. He just laughs at her, already knows that she’ll look for it between the car seats in a bit.

“Does she not know you’re still really worn-out from last night?” 

Taylor doesn’t answer him, and he instantly knows why. Instead of answering him, she just opens the car door, asks Travis to reach for her tote bag behind her and manages to board the plane underneath at least four umbrellas without anyone being able to see her face from afar. As soon as she got on the plane she feels her knees going weak once more. She usually makes sure to take her bag from Travis, but this time she just falls onto the seat and takes a shaky breath. How can she be so out of breath from walking a set of stairs? 

Travis, who finally enters the plane now notices immediately how pale she is again. 

“All good?” 

She nods, reaches for the small water bottle next to her and takes a sip. 

“Yeah.. just.. got dizzy for a bit.” 

Travis just sighs, places her bag next to her and grabs the small carry on suitcase from one of her security guards to place securely behind her seat. 

“Welcome aboard miss Swift. Would you like to eat lunch during this flight?”

Taylor looks at the flight attendant of today’s flight crew, smiles politely and ready to decline as Trav starts speaking first. 

“I think that would be a great. What do you guys have?” 

“Let me give you a menu.” she says friendly and disappears. Taylor just looks at him and rolls her eyes while watching Travis sit down in front of her.

“You haven’t eaten in almost twenty hours. I understand that you don’t want the greasy taco bell I got you this morning but please try eating at least something.” 

Just when she was ready to hit him with her prepare speech about how she won’t force food down her throat when she doesn’t want it, the flight attendant steps closer to the two again, holding a menu card in her hand and smiling at the couple. 

“Today, we can offer you either a sushi dish with yellowtail snapper, spicy tuna and avocado. We also have Filet Mignon with roasted potatoes and a side salad or the vegetable pasta with truffle cheese.” 

“Can I get the Filet Mignon please?” Travis says politely while securing his seat belt, and Taylor sighs. 

“I guess I’ll have the same.” 

The flight attendant nods and disappears again.

Travis smiles thankfully at her. 

“If I’ll explode on this tiny airplane toilet in an hour, then that’s on you!”

“You won’t. You’ll feel better.” he says, his voice has gone all gentle again. He places his arm right over the little table between them, signaling her that he wants to hold her hand. With one hand still holding onto the little water bottle, Taylor places her small cold hand in his, enjoys getting her cold hand warmed by his. 

“Now tell me why your mom has no clue what happened last night.” 

Taylor sighs. She can’t ever keep anything from him. 

“My parents worry so much about me. You know that. I just.. nothing happened so it’s not necessary to tell them.” 

“I disagree. I think you need all the support around you right now and hiding it from anyone will just turn this into a dirty little secret, which it really doesn’t have to be.”

“I don’t need ‘support’, Trav. Gosh. I’m not feeling great, but this whole thing will be forgotten tomorrow.”

He looks at her and hates the tone in her voice right now. She’s not just gaslighting him, but also herself. Still, he won’t let go of her hand. 

“You were drugged, Tay. Against your will. That’s literally called abuse. And just because that guy didn’t get to rape you after, doesn’t mean he didn’t have the intention to do so. It was still it abuse.” he says in a serious voice that gives her a shiver for a moment. She looks up at him, pulls her hand away. Something in her has shifted and he has no idea why. 

“Why do you want me to suffer?” she says then, her arms crossed. For a moment, he has no idea what she’s talking about. 

“Excuse me?” 

“All morning you act like I almost died. I didn’t. You know how many people this happens to? Some people literally take drugs for fun. It happened to me, it wasn’t great but I’ll be fine. Why do you have to turn this into something bigger than it is?” 

“Wow.” he just says, an angry sigh escaping his mouth. He doesn’t know what else to say to her. He understands that she’s not feeling well, he understands she’s tired and annoyed and sensitive right now. That she wishes it never happened. But he didn’t expect her to be so dismissive of his feelings after she’s been so understanding and empathetic just a few hours ago. 

“Well, I’m sorry for not being able to move on from this as fast as you can. Just wasn’t fun seeing the person I love collapse in my arms. Lucky you didn’t have to endure that. Would’ve been nice to be the unconscious one in that situation. But hey, next time someone drugs you I’ll just tell myself ‘oh it’s not that bad, some people do this for fun’.” he gets back at her, knowing he sounds more salty than he intended to. But it’s not the end of their argument. She looks angry, ready to say something she will definitely regret. 

“You know what? Sometimes, you can be a real asshole.” she says angry. 

“Right back at you, sweetie.” 

The plane starts moving and she just shakes her head in anger, doesn’t say anything else. Travis looks into the other direction as well, not able to say anything consoling in this moment. He doesn’t understand how she can go from being the most gentle, kind and understanding person in the world to being as cold as this. Making him feel like he’s just a burden. Pretending like his feelings as well as her feelings aren’t valid. He never wants her to suffer. All he wants is to be there for her, to be a good partner. Travis looks at her once more, but she just looks out of the window, plugging her AirPods into her ears. She clearly doesn’t want to talk to him at the moment. And he can’t say he feels any different. 

~

“Tay… Tay, we just landed.” she wakes up, feels Travis gently caressing her arm. She looks around almost as confused as she was this morning, realizes that she must have passed out for a solid amount of time. The last thing she remembers is eating bits of her steak and potatoes while successfully ignoring the man in front of her. She’s mad at him for his comments earlier. Mad that he makes her feel worse about what happened last night than he should. Still, he must have placed a blanket over her when she fell sleep. One of her AirPods must have fallen out of her ears and onto her lap. It seems like she’s had a good nap. 

“How long was I out for?”

“Whole flight.” he mumbles, busy looking into his phone. He clearly doesn’t want to talk to her either, doesn’t ask her how she’s feeling, how her nap was or leaning over the table to steal her a little wake up kiss. She hates to admit it, but she misses getting her usual treatment from him. She’s still annoyed by him, but she secretly hates this fight. However, she’s too proud to give in yet. This time, he should be the one to come around. It’s none of his business how she deals with her family. He should help her move on from last night and not make her feel guilty for doing so. She feels disrespected by him judging her for wanting to deal with this in her own way. Especially him. The person who has understanding for literally anyone and anything on this planet. 

It takes a good thirty minutes until the plane has arrived in its arrival position and the two have made their way into the car. The drive up to her house is long. Even longer when the person next to you does their very best to not talk to you under any circumstances. She then turns her head once, looks at him looking out the window. He seems mesmerized by the Nashville city sights. The last time he visited her here, they spent their time going on little hikes and just being their happiest selves together. Now, there’s conflict between them. She hates it. Even more than the afternoon traffic they just got stuck in. She sighs, is not sure how to approach him now. 

“You don’t need to come to my mom’s dinner with me tonight. It’s just my family anyways and..” 

“If you go, I’ll go.” he says. 

She doesn’t say anything, just nods and looks out of the window. 

“But you’re mad at me.” 

“Correct.” he says quietly, and she rolls her eyes. “But it would be rude not to go to a family thing when we promised them we’d be there.” 

“I don’t want you to go if you’re like this all night.” 

He sighs now, rolls his eyes and lets his head fall against the head rest of the car seat in annoyance. 

“What do you want me to say, Tay? Want me to apologize for worrying about you? For caring about your well-being? Just tell me what you want to hear because I don’t get it.” 

She doesn’t say anything, feels this new form of anger boil up in her. Before she can stop herself, she opens her mouth a tad too quickly.

“You literally think I’m so weak, don’t you?” 

He looks at her in confusion and shock. 

“What the fuck? When did I say that..” 

“You literally think last night broke me. But it didn’t. You have no idea what kind of scrutiny I’ve endured. Way worse than last night. And it makes me sad that you think I’m made of sugar and not able to handle this. I’m stronger than you think, Trav. And I really thought you would know that. And I’m done playing the part of the broken little girl who needs saving. I don’t need to be saved.” 

He just shakes his head. He can feel pure anger radiating from her. He knows that anything he says now will be twisted by her anyways. And he truly hates when she’s like this. 

The big black car comes to a stop at a red light. He looks out of the window and in contrast to the beautiful Las Vegas sun, the weather in Nashville today is cloudy. Cloudy and humid. The perfect temperature for a good fight with someone you care deeply about. 

“I know you can handle all of it.” he replies surprisingly calm for her taste. “And I know you can probably handle even more. Completely on your own. But I just don’t want you to. That’s all I was trying to say. I’m on your team, if you remember.” 

Taylor swallows, not saying anything else. 

~

“You ready?” 

Travis is standing in the hallway of her Nashville apartment. He’s checking his hair for a moment, taking a look at the golden rolex on his arm. It’s late. Very late if they want to make a quick stop to pick up Andrea’s dog before heading to her house for dinner. The rest of the afternoon has passed by horribly slow. After arriving at Taylor’s Nashville condo, he’s made his way to the gym and managed to ignore her as much as he could to clear his head for a while. Tay clearly didn’t want to speak to him either, disappeared into her bedroom and pretty much stayed there ever since. When he walked past the open bedroom door on his way to take a shower earlier, he could find her passed out in bed whilst some tv show was running in the background. As mad as he is at her, he’s just glad she’s been able to rest. She needed it. And he can’t believe she’s now dragging herself to a family dinner after last night. She almost got no sleep after being drugged, just got off a four hour flight. But it seems that she was right. She is stronger than anyone he knows. He just wishes she could see that sometimes, she doesn’t have to be strong. Sometimes, it’s okay to admit that you’re worn out and sad.

“Give me one second.” she yells back from the kitchen. With his beige pants and white t-shirt, Travis feels almost too dressed up, which wasn’t even planned for tonight. After all, he wants to be himself around her family. But he had this outfit picked out for her when they left KC two days ago. She loves whenever he’s dressed like this. And she knows how excited she is to share the news with her wider family today. 

Travis takes a few steps into the rustic kitchen and finds her standing in front of the huge flower bouquet her assistant has picked up for her. After all, today is her aunt Maureen’s birthday and she doesn’t want to go see her with empty hands. 

Travis just stands in the door frame, watches her cut the flower stems while being in her own little world, and he can’t help but feel the urge to just go up to her and hug her from behind. But he’s too proud to just let it go like this. They need to properly talk about their fight, before acting like nothing happened. Still, he can’t help but think about how beautiful she looks. Her curly hair is in a loose bun. She’s wearing a long dress with sunflowers on it and a pair of yellow sandals that match her dress perfectly. He also notices that she’s wearing her engagement ring. A rare occasion of her feeling safe enough in her environment to show it off. It consoles him in a way. As mad as he is, she’s still going to be his wife. They belong together. No matter how bad one of their fights may get. 

“Do you want me to put anything into the car?” 

“Yeah, can you grab the bag right there? That’s the wine and the stuff from Whole Foods.” she mumbles, still busy fixing the flowers. He nods, was just about to grab the big plastic bag next to her when he notices her stopping what she does for a moment. Instead, she just holds onto the counter in front of her, taking a deep breath. For a second he looks at her, worried. She just let the flowers drop into the sink, isn’t moving. 

“You okay?” 

She doesn’t answer him. Again, she just takes a deep breath, then nods with a shaky breath. 

“Hey, Tay.” 

He can clearly see that she’s dizzy, trying to catch herself again. He drops the plastic bag on the counter immediately, walks up to her and places his hand protectively on her back. 

“I’m just.. can you get me a glass of water, please?” she says with a shaky voice and Travis nods. Once more, he’s worried. He knew she wasn’t okay. He knows she hates to admit it, but she is not a hundred percent fine. She should stay home and take care of herself. But he’s done telling her that. 

“You sit down for a moment.” 

With a hand in her back and the other one securely holding her cold and sweaty hand, he helps her sit down on one of the chair around the dining table right next to them. She’s seen the look on his face, knows that he’s worried sick again. And she hates it. She hates having to be the weak one of the two again. A burden. A broken little girl who needs saving. 

“I’m just.. a bit dizzy. I’ll be fine in a second, don’t worry.” 

Travis doesn’t say anything, just reaches for a glass from the shelf next to the sink, pours some filtered water into it and comes back handing it to her. 

“Here.” 

“Thanks.” she mumbles, reaches for the glass and starts jugging it down. He notices her hands shaking slightly. He sighs, crouches down in front of her for a moment and places his hands on her knees. She empties the whole glass, then carefully places it on the wooden table next to her. She breathes heavily after putting the glass down, then leans back and relaxes for a moment. Her eyes close for a moment. Travis moves his hands on her knees gently, looking at her with empathy. He knew that going to this dinner was a bad idea. It already is. He reaches for both of her hands now, moving his thumbs up and down for a moment. 

“I know we can both be assholes, but you know what? You’re stubborn as hell on top of that.” 

She opens her eyes again, looks down at him. She tries not to smile at him, but almost cracks up. And he notices.

“I just.. I haven’t seen my family in a while with tour and everything. I need this. I need them to feel.. grounded. They also haven’t seen my ring yet. I just..” 

“I know you want to go, baby. That’s why we’ll go. But just.. just tell me when you want to leave. Okay?” 

She nods, a little smile on her face. 

“Want some more?” he asks, pointing to the now empty water glass. She nods. Travis gets up and goes up to the kitchen sink again to refill it. She just watches him standing there right by the sink in his cotton pants, looking really presentable for her family. He’s not just handsome today, but the look in his face makes her feel things. She feels horrible all of the sudden. She knows that he worries, and it shouldn’t be something to hold against him. But there’s this anger inside of her. And she doesn’t even know where it comes from. But it’s there. She’s angry at him, angry at herself.

Travis makes his way back and hands her the glass of water. She takes one sip, then reaches for his big warm hand against whilst he just stands there in front of her chair now, watching her finish her glass once more. 

“I’m sorry for being a stubborn asshole. But you’re also a stubborn asshole, sometimes.” she mumbles. 

“Guess we’re a good fit then.” he replies, forcing a little smile out of her. 

“Let’s talk about this when we get home. Don’t want to ruin this night for everyone.”

He nods, allowing himself to look into her eyes for the first time since their fight today. She smiles gently, a little peace offer from her side. She gets closer to him and her smile requests a small kiss from him. He gets closer to her, pressing his mouth onto hers. She feels relieved, intertwines both of their hands for a moment.

“I’ll take the flowers and you take the grocery bag?” she asks him, gets up with his help and already makes her way back to the kitchen sink in which she just frantically dropped the flowers a few minutes ago. 

“Yeah, let me get that.” he says, reaches for the bags on top of the counter. Taylor suddenly notices another red bag with the KC logo in his hand while reaching for the flowers for her aunt. 

“What’s that?” 

“That’s the jersey. For Jett.” 

Taylor looks at him a little touched, can’t believe he remembered. Her eight year old baby cousin Jett is a huge Patrick Mahomes fan and asked Travis on Christmas if he can get him a signed jersey. She can’t believe he remembered. Can’t believe that this is how thoughtful he is with her family. 

“You remembered? Oh my god, he will be estatic.” she gushes. 

“Yeah, got it signed and got him a cap and an autograph as well.” 

Taylor smiles at him while walking towards the door. 

“Thanks for remembering. It’s so sweet.” 

“Hey, this is for my guy Jett, not you.” 

She rolls her eyes, but smiles, and leaves the house together with him. 

~

“Oh my god, come here!” 

Taylor giggles while entering the house with Travis, two huge bags of groceries and presents, a bouquet of magnolia flowers and one freshly trimmed Dalmatian with them. Taylor can already hear her mom laughing from the kitchen as her aunt and godmother Alison makes her way towards her niece and hugs the blonde tall woman as tight as humanly possible. 

“Show me that ring. I want to see that ring right now.” 

Taylor laughs, and so does Travis right behind her. He knew that their engagement would be the number one topic of the evening. Whilst Taylor is busy handing the big bouquet to Maureen before showing everyone her engagement ring, Trav just quietly makes his way to the kitchen, passing the grocery bags to Andrea who’s standing by the stove. 

“Trav, you are the best. Thank you so much. Come here, honey.” she takes the bags from him, placing them on her marble kitchen counter and pulls him in for a big hug. 

“You look good. Did you let your hair grow?” 

“I did.” he smiles shyly, when he already feels Scott padding his shoulders from behind. 

“Trav, good to see you.” Scott pulls him in for a hug and Travis can’t believe his eyes. Scott is wearing one of the vintage KC crewneck sweater he got him last year. He can’t believe he’s wearing it for dinner with his Eagles supporting family. 

“You have just made my day, big guy” he pulls him in for another hug. Just in that second, Taylor enters the kitchen, asking her mom for a vase. Andrea just presses a kiss on her daughter’s cheek and takes the flowers from her. 

“Hi sweetheart.” Scott says, ready to hug his daughter but Taylor just looks at his outfit in shock and awe at the same time. Her mouth wide open, looking back from Travis to her dad.

“What do you say about that, huh? He’s officially joined the team.” Travis says proudly to his fiancé, still can’t believe he’s been able to fully pull Scott to the right side of history.

“That’s a statement, dad. How does Andrew feel about this.” she laughs, already looking for her uncle in the living room who will most likely not be too amused about his outfit choice. After all, he still hasn’t digested the 2023 loss against the Chiefs. And Travis being a part of the family now hasn’t really soothed this wound yet. It probably never will. But her dad now also moving to the dark side will definitely not make this better. 

“He hasn’t said anything to me all day.” Scott laughs, and so does Trav. He high fives the older man and Taylor just shakes her head in disbelief. It’s safe to say that her dad has never loved any boyfriend more than Trav. 

“Honey, where the hell are you? We need to see the ring. Now.” Maureen now yells into the kitchen and everyone starts laughing. Taylor smiles at her mom, who proudly looks at her daughter. Trav watches her walk to the group of women all gathered up next to the dining table, ready to inspect her hand.

The sudden gasp coming from the living room makes the three people in the kitchen laugh. 

“Oh my god, darling, it’s huge.” 

“Wow, is this a whole ass diamond?” 

“Trav, how many carats is this thing? Fifty?” Alison yells back into the kitchen, and Taylor looks back at him and blushes. He smiles at the round of women, even Andrew and Jett just look at the ring in pure fascination. 

“Nah, just ten.” he mumbles, walking up to where his fiancé stands. 

“Ten?” Andrew asks in shock and now it’s Trav who blushes. “That’s.. what? Half a million?” 

“Andrew!” Maureen just rolls her eyes at her husband being so rude and asking Travis how much he paid for Taylor’s engagement ring whilst Taylor is standing right there. 

“Maybe. Maybe more.” Trav smiles, placing a hand in Taylor’s back. He can see that she’s in awe again, almost uncomfortable to know that he spent so much money just for her. And he loves that about her. He loves that she has so many good reasons to not be uncomfortable about it, but she is. 

“I just wanted the best for my lady.” 

Taylor blushes, and smiles at him. For the first time really after today’s fight. She feels him get closer, pressing a gentle kiss onto her head. She leans in to him for a moment and it feels like reconnecting. Even though they had a bad fight today, they still love each other. They always will. 

“It’s fine though. Tay needs to buy groceries for the next five to ten years, and my bank account will hopefully recover.” he jokes and everyone laughs a bit, even Taylor. 

“I love it so much.” she looks at her ring again. “It’s weird, because every time I look at it it becomes even more stunning. Just.. literally how I envisioned my engagement ring when I was a little girl. Means so much to me. I think it’s because.. like.. I will wear this every day for the rest of my life. Like, no matter how old I am, I will forever have this on my finger now.” she smiles at her ring, then back at Travis. He just reaches for her hand with her ring and kisses her hand gently. Her aunts surrounding her just smile at the two of them. But beneath all the giggles and laughs of her aunts, Taylor hasn’t missed her dad’s look from the end of the room. Her dad, mom and Austin have seen the ring before. But his watery eyes, his little smile, and how he quickly left the room to not get too emotional right now hasn’t remained unnoticed by her. 

“Alright, who wants a drink?” Andrea calls from the kitchen and the little crowd surrounding Taylor and Travis slowly dissolves. 

She still smiles at her ring one last time, and Travis notices. He quietly smiles at her too, then leans in to press his lips against her bangs to kiss her once. 

“You are still a stubborn asshole, but I love you.” he whispers, and she giggles as he walks away to get himself a drink. 

~

Travis stands right next to Austin, trying to focus on their current conversation about their favorite childhood movies. After Austin made him the best Christmas present ever last year, in the form of his favorite DVD, the two of them really connected on their taste in movies. And he enjoys connecting with her family, getting closer to them and understanding more and more why she loves them so much. It’s gotten dark outside now. The beautiful, if cloudy summer day slowly coming to an end. He struggles to focus on Austin talking, feels his eyes every so often wandering off to Taylor. The majority of her family, including her, are sitting outside on the patio around the big family table. Andrea has lid up candles all over the terrace and it couldn’t be cozier around the house right now. Taylor definitely has her taste for interior design from her mother. Andrea is the only other person he knows who can instantly turn a place into a home. By making it warm and cozy. 

“Austin, Trav, do you want red wine or white wine?” Scott asks the two boys standing in the doorframe to the kitchen. He’s just made his way inside to get more drinks for everyone. Austin pats Travises shoulder, just follows his dad to help. 

For a moment, Travis just stands there alone, able to look outside through the big kitchen window. He can see Taylor sit on the side of the big round table. She looks tired and drained. He noticed that she barely touched any of the food tonight. Her mother has made a comment about Taylor’s lack of appetite earlier, and it surprised him that she didn’t react. Instead, she’s been sitting there, drinking one glass of wine after the other. And it makes him angry. It frustrates him. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since she’s been attached to an IV drip. Yet she’s sitting here, not taking care of her body, ignoring her health, pretending like last night never happened, after making him feel like crap for caring about her earlier today. He loves her. He loves her more than anyone else in this world, and he knows that she usually appreciates him caring for her. But her words today really stuck with him. He won’t be able to make this right for her, unless she wants to make it right herself.

Travis slowly makes his way outside to join the family. Taylor has saved a seat for him next to her. He just sits down, already feels her cold hand land on his arm. She pulls him closer, presses a kiss on his lips while listening to her cousin’s story about her weird neighbours. She tastes like white wine. Their fingers intertwine immediately and he can feel the shivers coming from her. 

“Want me to get you a blanket?” 

She nods immediately. She’s drunk. He can tell by the look in her eyes. 

“Thanks, baby.” 

Travis gets up and Andrea already points him to the where the TV blanket is at inside her house. He can already hear the conversation around the table shift while reaching for the blanket with his hands and making his way outside again.

“Darling, it’s still in the 70s right now. How can you be freezing?” Alison asks with worry on her face, everyone now turning to Taylor who still shivers slightly. She feels a bit overwhelmed suddenly, whilst Travis makes his way outside again. He places the blanket around her shoulders, helps her warm up a little. 

“Well, guess that’s what happens when you don’t sleep at night and not eat anything during the day.” he mumbles, and the second these words have left his mouth is when he knows it was a mistake. Taylor suddenly doesn’t say anything anymore, just signals him to let go. She reaches for the ends of the blanket and warms herself now. An awkward silence is suddenly surrounding the table. 

“Why, did you not sleep well, honey?” Andrea now asks, can immediately feel the tension between her daughter and her fiancé. She just shakes her head annoyed, reaching for her wine glass. 

“I’m fine, mom. Just didn’t sleep well last night.” 

Travis doesn’t say anything, just pours himself another glass of wine and keeps on listening to the conversations. He knows she’s mad about his comment, but he was right. After everything she’s been through last night she should take care of herself. Not this. 

It takes one more hour of Taylor sitting under the blanket and listening to everyone’s conversations while ignoring him, until she feels her eyes shut down fully. Travis keeps on looking over to her, and notices that she’s close to passing out on the chair next to him. The warm blanket doesn’t really help her not get more and more sleepy. He knows she’s mad about his previous comment, but he decides to ignore her pout from before, just wanders with his hand to her head and fixes a curly strand of  hair behind her ear. 

“Wanna head home?” he asks then, and Taylor nods. After all, the majority of guests have already left and Taylor needs to go to bed. She can feel herself having reached her limits for today. And as angry as she is with Travis, she doesn’t argue, just thankfully accepts his arm around her waist, guiding her inside to say goodbye to the rest of her family before finding her purse and making her way out of the family house. As soon as they both approach the car, Travis holds the door open for her, making sure she gets in safely before wandering to his side of the backseat. The car starts and Travis finds her fumbling with her seat belt. 

“Need any help?” 

“Leave me alone.” she mumbles and he sighs, just leans his head back and shakes his head. He’s in pure disbelief that she still finds the strength in herself to fight with him. He really can’t believe it. He knows this is the alcohol speaking in her but he’s tired. Tired of her making this so difficult for both of them. 

“I literally have known you for a full year now but I’ve never witnessed you the way you are today.” he says, full of anger and hurt. She doesn’t reply for a moment, just takes out her phone, pretending to be busy. 

“All I did last night was take care of you, get you safely to your hotel room, call you a doctor, give you the time you need to recover, get you food, get you water, tell you to take care of yourself, spend time with your family. And all you do is treat me like a fucking idiot, accuse me of wanting you to be weak, telling me i’m an asshole. Seriously, is that what you think I deserve, Tay?” 

“Well, you had no problem calling me out in front of my entire family when I specifically asked you not to. Thanks a lot for that by the way.” 

“It was literally the truth. After last night, you.. you didn’t eat, you had at least three glasses of wine and..” 

“Since when are you the food police? Since when do I need your permission to drink or not drink or eat or not eat? Did I miss something? I’m in a relationship Trav, not prison.” she yells at him and he looks at her but finds no words. He has no idea who this person next to him is. But what he really understands in this moment, is that she’s not okay. Last night must have shook her more to her core than he could’ve ever imagined. There’s no other explanation for this mean, hurtful, insensitive version of his girlfriend today. She’s never, not once, said anything like this to him.

“It’s literally impossible to talk to you right now.” he just mumbles, clearly pissed off, just looking out of the car window. 

A few minutes later, the car comes to a stop inside the garage of her Nashville apartment. Security helps them out of car and into the elevator, and in less than two minutes, they both stand in her penthouse apartment and Taylor turns the little kitchen light on.

“I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.” 

“Yes, please.” she just replies, doesn’t even look at him. “Also, no need to wake me before your flight tomorrow. Just.. do whatever you want.” she adds, and leaves him speechless once more. Just yesterday she told him how sad she was that he will need to leave to go to LA for a couple of days to meet with his agency and discuss a few upcoming projects. Just yesterday she was thinking about accompanying him for a day, just to fly back to Europe after that. Just yesterday, she was the person he fell so deeply in love with. And he can’t seem to find her anywhere right now. 

“Thanks, Tay. You can call me when you are yourself again.” 

Taylor doesn’t reply, just grabs one of the water bottles from her fridge and makes her way upstairs, leaving him to himself. 

~

She wakes up suddenly, her heart racing, her breathing patterns almost as fast as humanly possible. It takes a second for her to realize where she is, to realize that it was just a bad dream. For a moment, she sits up and reaches for her phone. 3:38am. She falls back onto her pillow, just realizes now how sweaty she really is. Her hand wanders to her forehead, and for a moment she just lays there and wipes the sweat from her forehead. The entire pillow is wet, just like the part of their blanket she just slept under. She swallows hard, needs to take a deep breath to remind herself that that was only a dream. She was on stage, in a stadium, and everyone of the thousands of people in front of her were people she knew somehow. Faces she once knew, faces she once trusted, people she used to love. And they all started to come for her, trying to kill her in the most horrific ways. There were knives, and guns. Ropes and pills. There was choking, there was strangling. And she had to just let it happen. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t scream. Her body was limb. All she could do was watch it happen to her. She was all alone. Nobody cared for her. Nobody gave her mercy. 

For a moment, she cradles her head in her hands, feels the tears coming in. She looks around in the dark, realizing that Travis must have come into the bedroom at some point because his pillow is missing. She can’t believe it. She can’t believe they fought like this. Just in this moment, Olivia meows from the end of the room, already jumping onto the bed. With tears in her eyes, Taylor comforts her, realizing then that she’s freezing. After all, she managed to sweat through the thick material of her chiefs shirt. With shaking hands, she gets up, walks into her walk in closet and reaches for another one of his big shirts. For a moment, she holds the fabric close to her nose, breathes it in. It smells just like him. Him. 

The only person on this planet who would’ve fought for her. Who would’ve tried his best to keep these thousands of people from torturing her. He would’ve done his best to shield her. And what does she do? Push him aside. Hurt him exactly where it hurts him the most. She loves how emotional he is. Loves what a good person he is. How loving he is. And instead of worshipping him for it, she managed to make him feel like absolute crap about it.

With a tear streaming down her face, she pulls the sweaty shirt from her body, pulls the new shirt over her naked torso and turns the light off again. Her vision is blurry from her tears now and for a moment, Taylor hesitates. She then decides to make her way down the dark hallway, until she reaches the guest room. To her surprise, she can see the nightlight still being on, and as soon as she approaches the door frame, she can find him tucked into bed, fully awake, watching something on tv. Benjamin is sleeping on the carpet next to him. He always loves being near Travis. 

She knocks on the door once, and he looks at her in surprise. 

“You’re up?” 

“Yeah, can’t sleep.” he replies. 

She doesn’t say anything, just slowly steps in. He can immediately see her moist hair standing from her head in all directions. Her eyes are red and watery, and he knows something is up. 

“Are you..” 

“Can we talk?” she says says with a breaking voice, and he can hear the tears immediately. He sits up and nods at her.

“Sure.” 

She sits down in bed next to him, and he can see a tear running down her cheek. 

“Are you sweaty or did you take a shower?” 

“I had a really bad nightmare. I’m.. I’m really sweaty and disgusting, sorry.” she cries, just looking at her fingers. He can’t help but smirk over her comment, his finger already wandering to the little curl standing from her head, playing with it once. 

“Don’t apologize. I’m sorry you had a nightmare.” 

He can clearly see that she’s crying, and as much as he hates to see her this way, he appreciates that they can finally talk. 

“I’m really sorry, Trav.” she mumbles then and looks up at him and right into his eyes. There she is again. The soul he loves so much. She’s still there. 

“I’m sorry, too.” 

“No, no. You didn’t.. you didn’t do anything. You literally are the best person. And.. I was just so horrible to you.” she whimpers quietly. 

Trav’s hand slowly wanders onto her neck, stroking her moist hair behind her neck. She’s got goosebumps all over her skin. She must be freezing. 

“Come here.” he mumbles, already pulling her into his arms. He hugs her for what feels like an eternity, and he can feel her little cries on his shoulder.

“Can you forgive me, Trav. I.. I just don’t know what’s wrong with me. I..”

“Of course. I love you so much, baby girl.” he whispers into her ear and kisses her head a few times. “I’m also sorry. For.. for some of the things I said. I can get really mean when I’m mad. I was also overreacting. I know it doesn’t help you when I pretend like you almost died last night. It’s just.. I worry too much about you. And seeing you knocked out the way I did last night was just scary. I should’ve not.. not kept on telling you how bad it was. Wasn’t really helpful of me.” 

She shakes her head, slowly lets go of him. She really looks destroyed right now. Her hair everywhere, her face red from crying. 

“No, no. I love how much you care for me. I literally have never had this with anyone. No one’s ever cared for me like you do.” she says, a tear streaming down her face. With his finger he wipes the tear away, both of his big hands now placed in hers. 

“It’s just.. I feel like most of the time, I have the entire world against me. Because it’s not just fans, Trav. It’s stalkers. It’s crazies, people who threaten to kill me and my family. But.. I’ve been able to build a team around me to pretend like I’m safe. Truth is I’m never safe. Last night was a reminder that.. I can have the best people around me, you included, and if someone wants me dead they literally can if they really want to.” she cries, and it kills him. The thought of her not feeling safe just kills him. 

“I just had a dream that everyone in front of the eras stage wanted to kill me. Strangle me, shoot me, kill me with a knife, poison me. And some of these people were people I once knew. It’s just.. I’m really fucked up, Trav. I know you fell in love with me because you think I’m this happy, pretty, funny person but truth is I’m literally a shot deer on the hunt most of the time and..” 

“Hey, Tay. Stop it.” he interrupts her, not able to stand her crying like this. She covers her face in her hands and he just pulls her closer, hugging her tightly once more. 

“I didn’t just fall in love with the happy, pretty, funny Tay. I also love the fucked up Tay. The one who tries to push me away when it gets ugly. And I also love Taylor Swift the CEO. I also love hormonal Tay. She’s a gem. She bakes all day and cries at everything.” He can feel her laugh once between her tears. 

“What I’m trying to say is… I love you, no matter what. And at the end of the day, I hate to break it to you but no one is ever safe. You are not, and I’m not either. But we’re on this rollercoaster called life together, baby, and we get to learn and grow from everything that happens. Last night happened. And it was horrible. Let’s cry about it today, let’s sit down with your security team tomorrow and we’ll see what we can do to never have something like this happen again. Let’s talk about it. To the people you love, who support you. To a therapist, someone who can help you deal with it. I think these things are just.. life, baby. Unfortunately, this is life. But how we deal with it, that’s what we can decide and control.” 

She listens to him talking and she can’t believe he’s real. Like a child in a candy store, Taylor just looks up at him, clings onto his lips and follows every word he says. She can’t believe he told her once that he’s not good with words. Can’t believe he thinks of himself as the dumb little brother who’s nothing but a fuck up. When in reality, he’s more mature than she could ever be. Quite literally the most intelligent person she’s ever met. 

“I’m honestly really fucked up since last night, too. Because I had to see the person I love most in the world completely unconscious and drugged by a stranger. And you know how guilty I felt. But.. I had a good cry this morning. As you know. And I felt better after that. And instead of trying that, you literally just pretended to be fine all day, and instead turned into a wine drunk monster that scared the living shit out of me.” 

She chuckles again, now wiping another tear away. She nods. He’s so right. She can’t believe how right he is in this moment. 

“I was so angry at you today. I think I was more angry at myself. For.. for letting this happen to me.” 

“Some things are not in your control, baby.” 

She doesn’t say anything, takes a deep breath and a last shaky breath escapes her. Travis looks into her eyes, and all she can find is safety. Safety and forgiveness. 

“You know what’s really weird?” she says quietly, nothing but the tv light flickering in the dark and his warm hands securely on her back now. She felt so cold in bed before, but now she’s warm again. 

“I used to think I felt safe with you because you’re just a giant NFL player who can break anyone’s nose in a split second and is taller than anyone in my team.” he laughs quietly at her statement, both his hands still safely around her. 

“But right now, I actually feel like, I feel safe with you because you’re.. just.. a good person. You.. you would never hurt me. You just.. love me, even when I’m a bitch and you pick up my mom’s smelly dog and get my cousin a jersey he’s asked for half a year ago and…” she feels herself getting emotional again, her hands wandering to his cheeks. 

“Maybe you can’t save me from the world or myself, but you can still make me feel so so safe, Trav. No one’s ever made me feel this way before.”

He smiles at her, his lips finding her forehead again. He kisses her curly bangs a few times. His big hand securely on her head. 

“Forgive me?” 

He looks at her, just smiles. It’s not even a question for him. 

“Of course. Nothing to forgive you for. Let’s go to bed, baby girl.”  

She doesn’t argue, just nods. She’s exhausted. Deeply exhausted. Emotionally and physically. 

“We can’t go to the bedroom though.” she mumbles, slowly getting comfortable under his warm sheets right next to him now. 

“Why not?” 

“I literally got so sweaty that all of our sheets are drenched now. I’m disgusting, baby. We have to sleep here.” 

She makes him laugh once more, and he just nods, turns off the tv with one click and helps her get comfortable under the sheets of the guest room bed. With one swift motion, he pulls her closer, lets her be the little spoon while using his arm as her pillow and holding her hand tightly. It takes less than three minutes and she’s fully asleep. With his nose deep in her naked skin, he closes his eyes and allows himself to drift off, too. 

~

Taylor opens her tired eyes, needs a moment to realize why she’s in the guest bedroom of her Nashville home. Her head moves once, and she pulls the soft blanket closest again. She yawns once, suddenly feels a massive amount of relief on her chest. She’s so glad they could talk last night. So glad she had a good cry. So glad she opened up to him. So glad that someone like him is her partner in life. 

Taylor’s head is still pounding and she feels run down. But it’s okay. He was right. It’s okay to take a moment to cry before moving on. 

As if she was run over by a truck once more, Taylor turns around, mentally and physically drained by the last two days, almost feeling unable to move. She wonders why Trav has left the bed already. Is it really so late? She suddenly remembers that he had to catch his flight to Los Angeles. 

Frantically, she searches for her phone to check the time. She left it in the bedroom. Did he really leave without waking her, because that’s what she threw against his head in all her anger yesterday? She can’t believe herself sometimes. Can’t believe how horrible she treated him yesterday. She feels herself getting sad again. She can’t believe she won’t see him for the next week. Can’t believe she’s all by herself now to deal with all of this. She knows she’s not alone, she knows he’s always just a phone call away. But she’d be lying if she said she’s okay to be on her own for a while now, when really: she’s not. The lump in her throat is growing bigger and bigger. She slowly sits up, then lands on her feet and rubs her eyes to wake up. She slowly stands up to search for her phone in the bedroom, which she left after her horrible nightmare last night. But instead of making her way back to the bedroom, Taylor notices something else. There’s a specific smell coming from downstairs. Did he leave her breakfast? Barefoot and wearing nothing else but his huge shirt and her thong, she slowly walks downstairs. A smile creeps up on her face when she finds a pink bag from her favorite breakfast shop on the counter. He got her her favorite breakfast sandwich and a fresh juice before leaving. She steps up, happily unwraps the sandwich and was about take a bite when the front door suddenly opens and the big man she knows and loves so much casually makes his way inside. 

“You’re up!” he says with a smile on his face and Taylor looks at him in confusion. He just takes off his sunglasses casually, places them on top of the counter. She turns her head to the clock on the wall. 1.26PM. What the hell is he still doing here? 

“Where.. why are you not in LA? Did you miss your flight?” she instantly feels responsible for it, after all she was the one keeping him up for two nights in a row. 

“I cancelled it. Just went to the Apple Store a few blocks from here to pick up a charger. For some reason, mine broke this morning. I checked yours but somehow yours doesn’t fit into mine.” 

She watches him unpack his gadgets, not impressed by her confused look at all. 

“How are you feeling? Did you sleep better after your nightmare?” he asks, unpacking his charger and trying to fit it into the outbox of his MacBook on the counter. 

“Trav, you.. why are you not in LA? What do you mean you cancelled it?” she doesn’t understand what is going on. He was so excited to fly out and meet his agents to chat about a few upcoming movie projects. He just steps closer to her holding the tuna sandwich in her hand, the one he bought her this morning. He takes a bold bite out of the sandwich, just laughing at her outraged face. His full mouth wanders to her soft cheek and he steels her one quick kiss. 

“I cancelled it because..” he chews, still standing right in front of his sleepy fiancé who looks at him in confusion. “I want to be there for you. I realized I can do these meetings online. And.. I think it would be good for me to be here the next week. And when you fly to Paris, I’ll go back to KC for a few days and visit you in Sweden to see the shows.”

She doesn’t really know what to say, just places the sandwich back on the counter in front of her. 

“But.. I don’t want you to miss out on..” 

“I’m not, Tay. I promise.” he assures her. “Coffee?” he asks her and she nods. Still tired from the past days, she just sits down on one of the bar stools, watches him work his magic with the coffee machine. 

“How are you feeling though? You didn’t answer my question.” he asks. 

“I’m happy you’re here. But.. I also feel weird about you cancelling your work thing for me.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just finishes getting her cup of coffee ready and placing it right in front of her. 

“Why is that?” he asks, she and she shruggs her shoulders. 

“You shouldn’t have to jeopardize your career for me.”

He chuckles once, watches her sip on the hot coffee once. He can tell she enjoys this beverage a lot. Both her hands around the big cup, almost as if she’s warming herself from within. 

“I’m not jeopardizing anything, Tay. It’s called priorities.” 

She places her cup in front of her again and looks at him. He just stands close to her, his hand casually on her naked bum, his mouth finding the little spot in her neck he loves kissing so much. 

“You’re my priority right now. Other times, football might be the priority again. But right now, my priority is to be with my future wife to support her. Very simple. I can easily move these meetings to late August. It’s nothing that needs to be done right now.” 

She can’t believe his words right now, can’t believe it can be this simple and logical. It’s this moment she realizes: It’s possible. If you want to, you can. If you are someone’s priority, they will let their actions speak. It’s something she never really got right before, it seems. 

Her small hand lands on his big one, right on top of her kitchen counter. And she smiles. For the first time in days, she really does. She gets closer to him, kissing him passionately. Both of her lips meeting his. Her eyes closed and her hand on his cheek. After a few seconds she pulls back, his forehead meeting hers. 

“I’m so glad you’re here.” 

He smiles at her, can tell she’s getting emotional. He just places his hand on her cheek now, kisses her forehead a few times.

“I’ll always be here, no matter what. You and our family will always have priority. I promise. Ride or die, baby.” 

The End.

[peachdues]

I Want You, I Need You (NSFW)

Requested for Sanemi x Y/N • Rengoku x Y/N • Giyuu x Y/N by @stuckinthewrongworld

Come get your food, you skanks.

CW: explicit sexual content for all three. Sanemi is princess slut in this. Rengoku is an angy boy (some mild hate-fucking). Giyuu is emotional. Condoms are non-existent, cre @ mpies all around. Exhibitionism in Sanemi’s (more like public sex), and hurt/comfort in Giyuu’s. MDNI. Read below the cut.

Reblogs, tags, and comments always appreciated! Love you all 🍑🌸🤍

Sanemi

Sanemi Shinazugawa hated quickies with a passion. He much preferred to have his girlfriend spread out over his chosen piece of furniture, completely at his mercy, where he was free to take as much time with her as he wanted, thank you very much.

But then his girlfriend had strode into his apartment wearing that fucking dress for his office’s charity gala, the satin one that clung to every dip and curve of her just fucking right, and Sanemi’s mouth had gone dry.

Even an hour after arriving, Sanemi is still struggling to conceal the hardness in his tuxedo pants that grows ever more demanding with every passing second.

It doesn’t help that half the men and women in his office keep eyeing Y/N like she was a goddamn meal and they haven’t eaten in days.

Y/N certainly hadn’t fucking helped his predicament when she’d slid past him to grab a drink from the bar, only for her ass to brush against his stiffening length. She’d frozen for a moment, surprised at just how tightly wound her boyfriend had been, but then the little succubus had ground the supple curve of her ass back against him once, and Sanemi nearly came in his pants.

One look at her devilish smirk had him closing his hand around her wrist and practically tugging her through the throng of his subordinates and co-workers gathered at the museum, to find somewhere — anywhere — private where he could give it right back to her.

Sanemi had found such a secluded corner in the back of coatcheck, and had wasted no time in pushing Y/N up against the farthest wall from the entrance and shoving the long skirt of her dress aside. He’d been pleased that the one she’d selected to wear that evening had a daring little slit that went nearly to her thigh — it’d made pulling that scrap of lace she called a thong to the side all the easier.

“D’you want me, baby?” He’d snarled in her ear as he shoved his fingers between her thighs to run them over her damp slit, pleased that she was just as turned on as he.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with lust, and she let out the sexiest fucking high-pitched mewl ever to grace Sanemi’s ears, nodding enthusiastically.

“Good,” he’d growled, fumbling with the opening of his tuxedo pants as he shoved them down just far enough to release his fully erect length, red and leaking in demand as he brought it against her slick, euphoric heat. “‘Cuz I fuckin’ need you.”

And that was how the couple found themselves in the back of the museum’s coat room, tucked behind the last rack of fancy coats and scarves, Y/N pressed against the wall and her thong pulled to the side while Sanemi thrust savagely up into her.

It was true, he hated quickies — but something about the thought of taking Y/N to a secluded corner and fucking her senseless while the threat of being caught loomed, made Sanemi’s cock even harder than it already was, plunging in and out of her satiny heat.

And given the lewd squelching of Y/N’s cunt as his cock drives in and out of her at record pace, it seemed his girlfriend would be inclined to agree with him; this was fucking hot.

“Your pussy is so fuckin’ perfect,” Sanemi grunts in her ear as he pushes her thigh back firmly against the wall they’re braced against. “And all wet for me.”

Y/N’s hands greedily roam the planes of his torso, concealed beneath his tuxedo shirt. She opens her mouth to respond when the motion-sensor hall light outside of the coat room clicks on, voices of museum patrons not too far away.

The voices draw nearer as Sanemi’s thrusts grow sloppier and Y/N clenches tighter around him. Her pretty lips fall open in a perfect “o” and Sanemi knows she’s about to start making those high-pitched, breathy moans she always makes just before she cums.

As much as it pains him, he frees his hand from its grip under her thigh and closes it over her mouth, stifling the sounds as they begin to bubble up her throat.

But that hand had been keeping her leg pinned to the wall, and Y/N is too fucked out of her mind to keep it up herself. Her foot comes to rest back on the floor, leg wobbling precariously in her strappy heels as she tries to hold herself upright.

Unfortunately for Sanemi, their new position now causes Y/N’s succulent cunt to clench him even tighter, and Sanemi knows he’s only a few pumps away from unloading into her warmth, and those damnable voices are still getting closer.

Of fucking course they chose to duck behind the rack that housed the coat this particular guest needed right fucking then.

Sanemi brings his lips to the back of the hand he has covering Y/N’s mouth, his teeth breaking his skin as he bites down in an effort to keep his groans in check. The sight, is apparently too overwhelming for Y/N, because suddenly the walls of her velvety cunt are spasming around him, and the only part of her eyes Sanemi can see are the whites as they roll back into her head with the force of her orgasm.

Her legs quiver beneath him and the vibration sends Sanemi hurtling over the edge, his eyes squeezing tight as his cock spurts within Y/N’s honeyed core.

“Ah, here we are, ticket 1915! For Mr. Ubayashiki!” The coat check attendant chirps.

Sanemi’s eyes fly open at the name. The coat rack he’d taken Y/N behind was not just any coat rack.

No. It was the rack for his fucking boss. And now, his boss and the poor attendant, who most certainly is not being paid enough for his services, are about to be exposed to Sanemi Shinazugawa’s bare ass while he’s in the middle of unloading inside his girlfriend.

In a last-ditch, desperate attempt to preserve what remains of his tattered dignity, Sanemi blindly grabs a handful of coats and shoved them forward, praying to whatever gods there might be that Mr. Ubyashiki’s is near the front.

Whether by dumb luck or divine intervention, the coat check attendant does not need to dig too far in the rack to find Mr. Ubayashiki’s coat. The footsteps pad away and both Sanemi and Y/N look to one another and exhale against his hand, relaxing in relief.

Sanemi waits until the coat check attendant flips the light of the room off before he dares to pull out.

“Shit, sorry,” Sanemi tries to brush a bead of his cum that accidentally drops onto the side of Y/N’s dress as his seed begins to trickle down her thighs. His softened cock still hanging out of his pants, Sanemi grabs a small handkerchief from his pocket and reaches between his girlfriend’s quivering legs to wipe away the excess, before fixing her thong. “You okay?”

Y/N nods, a delicate blush on her cheeks as Sanemi tucks himself back into his pants. Her hands flutter up to her hair, smoothing it down before she gasps, fingers flying to her lips.

“How’s my lipstick?” Y/N worries, grabbing his hand and forcing Sanemi to look closely at that sinful mouth of hers.

The outline of her lips still has traces of red that is slightly smudged, but the pillowy softness of her lips are her natural color.

In other words, Y/N looks as though she’d just been thoroughly kissed.

“Oh no,” Y/N’s eyes widen as mortification begins to settle over her.

But Sanemi came prepared.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, reaching into the pocket of his pants to withdraw the small black tube containing his girlfriend’s chosen lip color for the evening. He feels a smug sense of pride at the way her shoulders visibly relax, a relieved smile spreading across her lips.

Y/N moves to take her lipstick from his hand, but Sanemi pulls it back, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as Y/N furrows her eyebrows at him in question.

“Part your lips for me, darlin’,” he murmurs, and his pride multiplies at the way Y/N’s cheeks turn pink, her eyes darting from the hand clutching the tube and back to him.

Slowly, Y/N’s sensual lips part, and Sanemi uses his free hand to grip her gently — but possessively — under her chin to hold her still. Still holding the lipstick in his hand, he leans in and slants his mouth over hers, his tongue darting quickly between her relaxed lips to stroke her own. He feels himself begin to harden once more at the soft, surprised gasp that he swallows as his tongue licks the roof of her mouth before he pulls away once more.

Seamlessly, Sanemi pops the lid of her lipstick off with the same hand he holds it with, and brings the rouge to her mouth, gently patting the pigment against her still-parted lips as he’d seen her do countless times before.

Y/N’s eyes never leave his face, and though Sanemi is fixated entirely on her mouth, he knows that were he to look, he would see the same renewed heat for him in her gaze as he feels stirring in his blood.

Fuck, he loves her. He thinks he should marry her.

Finally, Sanemi steps back, satisfied with his job, closes the tube, and slips it back into his pocket.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” Sanemi shakes his head, hand reaching to take hers gently in his as he leads her back to the main floor of the museum. “Thank god you’re wearin’ white.”

Y/N squeezes the fingers interlaced with hers and Sanemi looks back to see that glint in her eye — the one that means trouble for him.

“When we get home — payback.” She promises, and Sanemi nearly hauls her ass out of the gala right then, knowing that “payback” meant Y/N would be tying his arms and legs to the posts of his bed and riding him ten ways to Sunday.

Just as the two cross the threshold back into the main gallery, Sanemi slips his hand against her ass and squeezes, roughly. “Bring it on, baby.” He taunts.

This time, it’s Y/N who turns on her heel, grabs his arm, and tugs him behind her, Sanemi smiling with abandon the whole way to the car.

Rengoku

“I don’t know what you want, Rengoku.” Y/N’s voice was hard, even as her eyes stung with the burn of unshed tears. “You’re a riddle I can’t figure out how to decipher, and I’m done trying.”

With that, Y/N turned away and made to leave his apartment for good. She was tired — so very tired of never being his priority; of him choosing anyone and anything but her. Whether it was his father, his brother, his job, his friends, or those boys he mentored, Y/N had grown tired of being relegated to the bottom of Rengoku’s list. He’d exhausted all of her resources, always stringing her along with lofty promises that he cared for her, that she was important to him, and yet she never found herself being used as anything but a last resort.

He wouldn’t even commit to dating her, for God’s sake. And so, she was done.

She’d just managed to wrench the front door open when a large hand shot past her head and slammed it shut once more. Y/N’s mouth opened in indignation, ready to curse the man at her back, but his other hand closed around her upper arm, whipping her back around before his mouth slams down over hers, angry and desperate.

She didn’t kiss him back at first, her thoughts too jumbled and her heart too angry, but Rengoku’s fire had always raged too hot, had always consumed everyone and everything that crossed his path. Y/N was no different; she’d burned for him from the start.

And so, Y/N finds herself giving in to his fervid lips and roaming hands, the anger they both felt charging the air around them, adding a further level of heat to their combustible romance.

“I want you,” Rengoku growls against her neck, as he makes quick work removing her sweater, and then her dress, the heat of his hands branding her bare skin, marking her as his. “I want you.”

Y/N only moans in response, any coherent thought left in her head dissolving as Rengoku’s teeth nip across her breasts, as he pushes her up against the door she’d tried to leave out of — tried to leave him.

Y/N’s hands are greedy as she unbuckles Rengoku’s belt and fumbles with the button of his trousers. She heaves a wanton sigh when her fingers slip past the fabric and connect with the thatch of coarse hair and heated steel within, his cock heavy and throbbing in her hand. Rengoku’s deep groan has her wetness dampening her underwear, and the two tear the last shreds of fabric from the other, frantic to feel.

“I want you.” He repeats, again and again.

Rengoku hauls her up against the door, and her legs wrap easily around his hips because this is a waltz they’ve danced so many times before. He does not bother to use his fingers to prepare her, far too enraptured in his own desire to wait to sheathe himself within her any longer.

“I want you,” his teeth nip at her bottom lip, demanding she open up to him, as his tip presses against her throbbing entrance. “And I fucking need you, Y/N.”

As his tongue slides into her waiting mouth, Rengoku buries his cock within her, and Y/N doesn’t care if she will always be his last resort, not if he’ll keep fucking her like this.

His hips ruthlessly snap in and out of her and fuck, she loves it, loves the way he knows how to fuck her just right so that she’s a whimpering, moaning mess. She loves him. He is pounding melody into her that only he knows, her spine digging into the hard surface of his front door which rattles in its setting. Vaguely, Y/N is aware that everyone on the street can probably hear the way she screams his name, can hear his animalistic snarls and grunts and moans as he whispers how fucking perfect she is and how good she feels clenching around him.

“Stay,” he beseeches her, in between the sharp, thrusts of his cock into her heat, so deep that she fears he will be able to imprint himself on her very soul. “Stay. With me.”

Y/N’s legs tighten around his hips as Rengoku’s hand shoves between their bodies to connect with her aching clit. It only takes him one, two circles and a gentle press of his thumb to have Y/N coming apart around him, giving herself fully into his relentless fire that she knows, deep in her heart, she will never escape.

“You’re mine,” Rengoku growls in her ear, her release coating his groin and making the sounds of his skin slapping against hers wetter, more obscene. “Say it.”

Y/N only cries out, her cunt a sloppy mess as the thrust of Rengoku’s hips into her grow more forceful as his release nears.

“Say it,” beneath his possessive snarl is the edge of desperation, as though he knows she already has one foot out the door that he now fucks her against.

“Y-yours,” she says feebly. “I’m yours, ah, Rengoku.”

Her oath is all Rengoku needs to unleash his seed within her, his hips giving one last mighty slam up before stilling, a loud, deep groan of her name reverberating in her ears as he presses his body flush against hers.

She wishes she could regret it, but she’s long-since resigned herself to the whim of her heart.

And so, Y/N stays.

Giyuu

Y/N finds that sleep evades her most nights.

At least, such is the case here, at the end of her life.

When she was eighteen, twenty-five had seemed so very far away; almost intangible. Not real, not attainable.

At the time, she’d not given it much thought. The Star Hashira had no ties, no bonds, that’d survived until the sun rose and they emerged victorious. So when that silvery, six-pointed star appeared right between her brow, she’d not mourned her fate. After all, it hadn’t even been certain they would win at all.

She’d lost consciousness before Tanjiro had temporarily become a Demon himself, and she woke up a month later with most of her friends dead. Of the Hashira who’s fought, only three survived — herself, and the Wind and Water Pillars.

She’d respected both of them, though she’d not been particularly close to either. But shared trauma can form bonds just as sure as any other experience, and so, she’d grown close with both men upon their respective reawakenings.

Sanemi’d grown to be a close older brother-figure, a steadfast and warm presence in her life, even if he still bore traces of that occasional hot-headedness. But his mark had claimed him three years prior, and with him, he’d taken half of her remaining heart.

The other half, however, belonged to the raven-haired man sleeping soundly beside her in their futon, beautiful and serene.

Though, it wouldn’t be fair to say that he’d come to possess the entire half of her heart — he now shared it with the sleeping toddler in the next room, the spitting image of her father, though she’d inherited Y/N’s eyes.

By some miracle, Giyuu’s mark hadn’t activated even during that final battle, meaning that he’d passed his 25th birthday with ease, welcoming their first — and now, only — child shortly after.

They hadn’t been close at the time Y/N’s mark appeared, nor had he’d noticed during that final battle, given how light and delicate that cursed star had been.

It was perhaps selfish of her to not tell him her fate, but then again, she hadn’t meant to fall in love with him.

Y/N rolled over in their blankets to face her sleeping husband. He lay on his back, head tilted towards her, with the most peaceful expression upon his lovey face. He was as bare as she, though she’d recently taken to wearing his haori after they’d finished their more physical activities, Y/N claiming that she’d desired nothing more than to be enveloped by his scent.

That’d been true — but moreso because she wanted to etch the smell of home into every cell within her. It was why she’d spent so many mornings with her nose buried in her daughter’s hair, as she held her close.

Perhaps the gods would be kind enough to allow her to take these treasured mementos with her to the afterlife, when death came to call in its debt.

How could they have imagined the price of their victory?

Y/N could feel the panic within her begin to bubble and churn, as the deadline on her life drew ever closer — now, a mere two months away. If she could not get the howl of her despair to quiet, she’d risk waking Giyuu and causing him to worry. He is already beginning to stir, his Hashira-trained instincts responding to her palpable restlessness.

But Y/N knows how to conceal her anguish. She lifts her hand to gently caress the side of her dearly beloved’s face, who grunted in response to her touch. Slowly, she let her hand trail downward, fingers tracing teasingly along elegant slope of his nose, to the sensual pout of his lips.

As she grazes his lower lips, Giyuu, barely conscious, presses gentle kisses against her fingertips, and Y/N nearly dissolves into tears.

Still, she lets her hand continue to trace along the well-traveled plains of his body. Her fingers brush against the edge of the blanket draped over his lower hips letting them linger teasingly.

“Y/N,” Giyuu’s voice is rough with sleep, but the corded muscles of his abdomen flex beneath her touch.

“I want you,” Y/N breathes as her hand slipped beneath the covers of their futon to grip his growing hardness. She leans over and brushes her lips against the hollow of his throat, and let her tongue trail teasingly down his sternum.

Giyuu’s response is a low growl, as he grabs her by the jaw, pulling her up to kiss her roughly, greedily, before flipping her onto her back and covering her with his body, alive and eager for her after a few gentle caresses.

Her legs part easily to accommodate Giyuu’s hips as they come to a rest against hers, his length brushing against her heated cunt so deliciously that neither can help moaning in unison.

As Giyuu aligns his tip with her entrance, Y/N brings her lips to his throat, teeth nipping at that sensitive spot just above his adam’s apple.

“I need you,” she whispers, and Giyuu slides home in a single, fluid motion, the tendons in his neck tightening in his restraint.

But Y/N does not want him to be restrained. She wants him to feel her love, so that maybe, just maybe, he won’t hate her when the time comes, in a matter of weeks, when she does not awaken beside him.

She hooks her leg around Giyuu’s backside and flips them, her hips dropping effortlessly down his length as she begins to ride him, her husband’s head falling back against his pillow in bliss. His hand comes to rest against her waist, steadying her, though he allows it to wander to her breasts or to squeeze at her ass every so often.

As she increases the pace of her hips, dropping and rolling and grinding against him, so too, does the frequency of the noises which fall from her beloved’s mouth. Y/N savors the breathy moans and whines and grunts that Giyuu makes as he begins to buck up into her, shamelessly chasing his own release.

She loves it when he’s as needy for her as she is for him.

Giyuu’s fingers find that bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs and they swirl and press against her in a way that has her head falling back, his name a prayer on her lips. She wants him to come with her, so she braces her feet flat against their futon, bouncing herself up and down the length of his cock, shiny with her slick, because she knows he likes to watch himself disappear in, and out of her.

The walls of her core tighten around him, and Giyuu finds nirvana first, his head thrown back and a loud moan for her tearing from his throat. The sight leads to her own undoing, with Y/N free-falling off the precipice of her pleasure after him, her cunt seizing around him as though he was her lifeline.

Giyuu has a sleepy smile on his face as his hips roll lazily up into her, his hand coming to stroke the soft part of her belly as he muses that perhaps this time his seed will take again, and they can give their daughter a new sibling.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell him she’s been taking a tea that will prevent that from happening, ever since she’d passed her 24th birthday. It would seem too cruel to risk dying in childbirth, potentially taking their unborn child with her.

In truth, she was secretly glad to have had their precious daughter before Y/N was forced to leave him. Not only was the little girl the beautiful, physical manifestation of her parent’s love, but she would serve as her father’s anchor to life, here.

If that made Y/N selfish and wicked, then so be it. She’d never claimed to be good.

But damn, if she hadn’t hoped for more time.

As she collapses against her husband’s chest, spent and satisfied, as his hand comes up to delicately trace over her spine, she feels the familiar prickle of tears behind her eyelids. She buries her face deeper into her husband’s neck, hoping his scent will steady her as it so often does.

Giyuu murmurs against her forehead how much he loves her, how much he cherishes her and their family, and the tears begin to fall. She hopes she can pass off the droplets gathering on her cheeks as the product of pleasure or happiness, rather than that of the cold despair and bitter sorrow she feels as her end draws near.

But then again, they’d been running on borrowed time anyways.

I hope you enjoyed your weekly addition of slutty-angsty-pain with yours, truly.

[unknownperson246]

HIIII , I love ur work. it’s amazing <3

if you don’t mind could you do one of current Axl rose

the reader and axl have been doing it for a while now and they r in a relationship but nobody knows. one day she has a class with him and she misbehaved in class on purpose just to piss him off so at the end of the class he makes her stay behind and he just does pure filth to her. make it as filthy as you want . love yaaa thank you 🫶🏽🫶🏽

hiiii thank you 🤍🤍🤍🤍 also I’m so sorry it’s late but here it is. I hope you enjoy it 🤍

Call Me Professor

Words: 996

warnings: *smut* *p in v* *age gap* *professor Axl* *overstimulation* *vibrator* *doing it in a classroom* *praise kink* *spanking kink*

✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙

You are a college student. You are in your freshman year of college. Everything was very new to you. At the beginning of the year, you were getting used to everything around you. It was amazing. All of your professors were boring and they always were so harsh on you. You hated the professors and their classes until you met Professor Axl. He was perfect. You were always paying attention in his class. His deep raspy voice made you go feral. His teaching style was always so easy for you to understand. He taught college-level chemistry. Chemistry was a very difficult subject for you even in high school. But your professor made it very simple and easy to understand. You didn't want to waste any more time. One day you asked to stay after because you needed help understanding something. He turned around and you pulled your skirt off. Ever since then, you both have been doing it for 4 months in his classroom. You both are in a relationship but no college student or admin knows. You both have been very hush-hush about it. You didn't want to get your 62-year-old college professor boyfriend in trouble. 

You are now sitting in his class in the front row while he teaches more basic chemistry to all of the class. A light bulb goes off in your head. You were shy and you didn't like drawing attention to yourself but you were desperate for him. 

“Axl!” you shout out.

He snaps his neck back to look at you. He was embarrassed. 

“Mr.Axl Rose You fucking suck ass,” You say chuckling and smiling while the other college students just sit there and look at you in annoyance.

“Y/N please meet me after class.” He announces with a red face and a firm voice.

“Sure thing Mr.Ass sucker.” You say smirking at him.

As soon as the lecture was over and everyone left you went over to his desk and pulled your skirt off.

“Hello, Mr. Rose.” You smirk at him putting his hands on his chest. 

You grab his arms and you put his hands on your chest. He is still very mad at you and he doesn't say anything. He turns around to go and lock the door. He comes back.

“The stunt you pulled today… You're going to be sorry. You fucking needy ass whore” He yells.

“Oh does that upset Mr.Rose?” You say pouting and smiling like it was a joke. 

You put your hand on his cock that was not going to go soft on you. You felt it swell up even more when you were touching it.  He tried to conceal his lustful eyes. You could hear small groans escape his lips when you touched him. “Mr Rose,” You say.

“Call me Professor. Dumb whore” He mutters as he takes his zipper down and slides his jeans halfway down. You sit down on his desk without your skirt trying to seduce him again. He pulls out a vibrator from his briefcase. He bought the vibrator brand new and he bought it for you. He figured it was the best time to use it on you.  He pulled the remote out

You gulp as you see the vibrator. You didn't want to feel overstimulated. You decided to lie down on the table. You laying down and spreading your legs was an act of confirmation that he could stick it inside of you. Without any shame, he put it on the highest setting with the remote that came with it. “Axl” You sob as you feel the buzz and the vibrations.

“It's Professor Axl,” He says, flipping you over to face up. He smacks your ass. You found it hot when he turned you over to smack you. 

It felt like when teachers would hit students back in the day. Of course, you never got that experience. It was happening in front of your eyes. He was smacking you and you loved it. You indulged in it. He stopped the vibrator mid-way. He got on the desk without his pants. 

“Ax- I mean Professor. Why did you stop?” You say in a whiny voice.

His knees are on both sides next to you. His arms are straight. He is hovering above you. He doesn't speak. He grabs his huge and thick cock. He puts it at your entrance. You feel his cock touching your entrance. You feel the tip enter first. He doesn't fully thrust. After a couple of minutes, you feel his hands on your ass. He starts to go in and out of you. His hips collide with your ass. You feel his tip continuously smack your g spot over and over. His hands move up to your hips. “Profe-” You cry.

You can't string a full sentence together from his cock pounding you like this. It's been forever since the both of you had fucked. It felt so good to both of you. Axl's head goes back. You feel his thrusts get sloppy and his hands dig in your hips. His thumb rubbing circles on your upper ass. He is breathless. You feel his wet load inside of you. 

“Good slut” He moans. 

You feel something happening to you when he says that. Your stomach ties up into a knot and your moans and sighs get heavier. You feel yourself coming on his cock. He pulls out of you and he gets up from his table. You watch his next moves scared that he is going to do something to you. He gets up and unlocks his door. It was your signal to get up and leave his lecture room. You got up and grabbed your skirt. You grabbed your tote back and headed on out to your next class. Once you got to your next class you just realized you forgot to fix your hair and clothes. You were embarrassed and covered your clothes with your arms. 

[faetima]

Hi!! Can I please request a hanahaki fic with blade? I'm not sure if you've written for him though!

Also, please take some breaks! You've written a lot of fics lately, you might get overworked 🤍

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. .

. .hanahaki just had to put you through fucking hell, didn't it?

// tws ; lil bit of cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au

a/n: OH MY GOD ANON YOURE LITERALLY THE SWEETEST ILYSM OMOGMOGO

i will be writing a part two to this.. soon enough :3

you couldn't do anything about this stupid disease anyways, so what was the point of even trying?

you heaved up clusters and clusters and clusters of ugly bright red petals, their sickly sweet scent making its way up to your nose. you felt so fucking nauseous and dizzy. the fragrant miasma of flowers overwhelmed you. you wanted to vomit or cry or die or anything but cough up these dumb stupid flowers.

the flowers flopped onto your floor--your newly polished floor-- ungracefully, covered in slick mucus and freshly coated in splatters of blood. they smeared the previously pristine tiling with blood, the iron stench of it mixing with the flowers and filling up the entire room. you just wanted the disease to kill you already. if it was going to either way, why make you suffer?

after what felt like hours and hours and hours and hours of coughing and heaving and choking, the flowers finally stopped fucking coming. you took shaky shallow breathes, trying to ground yourself.

your palms stung, and you looked down to realize you had been digging your nails into the palms of your hand almost strong enough to draw blood.

your gaze trailed up to the stupid fucking flowers.

upon closer inspection, you realized they were spider lilies. red ones.

his favorite flowers.

too bad you hated them.

--

his eyes were the same exact color of the flowers you had just coughed up.

blade sat two seats in front of you and one to the right, and whenever you saw him you couldn't help but wonder why you had fallen for him.

he was always so indifferent and cold. sure there might've been something warmer under his icy exterior, but you weren't the type of person to go dig through someone's cold attitude just to find out what they were actually like.

but some days you wished you knew what was under that cold front of his.

--

you were getting worse.

you'd barley come out of your room to stretch your legs or go to the bathroom or even eat.

the spider lilies were killing you from the inside out. of course you had to have hanahaki for someone who probably hated you, if he even knew you existed, that is.

and, on top of that, out of all flowers, the ones you coughed up had to be toxic.

if just hacking up the flowers was bad, the nausea they caused because of being toxic was worse. you couldn't even go five minutes without feeling abdominal pain and nausea.

ugh.

--

blade swallowed hard.

why did he feel like this? why did his heart beat so fast when this random ass person passed by?

he gritted his teeth.

"kafka," he grumbled, barley glancing in her direction.

kafka glanced up from her book, setting it down elegantly and tucking a strand of mauve hair behind her ear, adjusting the tinted glasses sitting atop her head in the process.

"yes, bladie?" she grinned a little, and blade could only groan in irritation.

"who's that?" he muttered, gesturing towards the person he had been thinking about earlier.

"why?" kafka mused. "you've never been interested in learning others' names before now. what's changed?"

"nothing," he muttered gruffly, crossing his arms across his chest. his ears felt hot and his heart was beating faster and he was getting butterflies and he didn't know why.

kafka grinned, eyes glinting with amusement.

"ooh, i think someone has a crush."

"no."

"okay, let's go talk to them then bladie."

"no!"

"why not? is it cause you like them?"

"..fine. let's go talk to them."

--

your head fell forward a little. another sleepless night of coughing up flowers didn't bring you any good.

suddenly, your eyes snapped open.

was that.. blade? walking towards you? with kafka?

no, it probably wasn't. you were probably just sleep deprived and hallucinating or something.

but then you smelt the strong and unmistakable scent of anise, too real to be your imagination.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hey there Astra! Hope you're taking care of yourself and doing well 😄. Can I request Izou, Thatch, Marco, and Ace with a shy!s/o? If it's too much you can just do Izou, thank you so much you're the best!! 🤍

So this is also my @onepiece-bingo submission for 'First Kiss'. Thank you for being so patient with me.

Warnings: first kisses, Shy!Reader, Izou, Thatch, Marco, Ace

Word Count: 1490

Izou

     It was cute how shy you were, how you hid behind him if too much attention was on you, how you sank in your seat to try to not be noticed, and how you squeaked and quietly insisted on being put down if he lifted you into the air. That being said, it was hard to keep a ‘low profile’ when you were dating the prettiest pirate in the New World and 16th division commander. The man attracted attention and oozed confidence and an elegance that drew people to him. You, by comparison, were relatively plain. Choosing not to wear flashy makeup or clothing in order to not attract attention. Head down and refusing to meet people’s eyes so that they wouldn’t approach you. Izou wasn’t really bothered by your shyness, in fact he found it rather endearing and cute. There was… one thing he didn’t like about your shyness though. You hated PDA. PDA always brought attention to you, attention and teasing. The most he could do was hold your hand but even then, you preferred to hold one of his long sleeves, afraid of the attention you might get if you actually held his hand. The crew never teased you on anything, they knew better than to try to tease you, less they invoke Izou’s wrath, but you still worried about all the eyes that could be watching you. He hadn’t even had his first kiss with you yet! But he was going to change that today! He had a nice place to pull you aside, away from the prying eyes of the others, secluded and not likely to be bothered. So pulling you through the halls, he smiled back at you, the confused look on your face only making you cuter.

     “Y/n.” he said softly, caressing your cheek as he closed the door behind you, “it’s not the romance you deserve, but I’ve been waiting too long to do this.” Izou said softly, pulling you into a sweet kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck. Suddenly, you wished you’d done this sooner, that you’d had the courage to kiss him in front of the others. Breaking the kiss, you looked up at him, in wonder.

     “Can… can we do that again?” you asked softly, the dark haired man smiling as he pulled you into another kiss.

Ace

     Ace was wild, loud, outgoing, and commanding. You were shy, quiet, introverted, and timid. Logically, your relationship made little sense, but then, love didn’t make any logical sense. You liked how he was always doing grand gestures to show you how much he cared, how he was pulling you out on some new adventure, and how he showered you in affection. He loved how cute you were, how your need to avoid attention kept him out of too much trouble, how you quietly gave him small gifts. That being said, there were things you both hated. You hated how he was always attracting attention to you, despite your protests, you hated how he was always pulling you into his trouble, and how he’d pull you with him when he was really happy, drawing the attention of the entire crew to the two of you. He hated how you always wanted to be a wallflower during parties, how he wasn’t allowed to show you off and tell everyone how amazing you were, and the one he hated the most, how adamantly you refused PDA. He wanted to walk down the street with his arm wrapped around your waist, he wanted to spin you around in his arms, and most importantly, he wanted his damn first kiss with you! But he’d be damned if your shyness stopped him! It was the dead of night that he tugged you to the back of the ship.

     “Ace, what’s so important that you needed to talk to me at this hour at the back of the ship?” you asked, confused and slightly annoyed. You’d been getting ready for bed, what did he want? Ace just gave you one of his sunny smiles as he pulled you into a passionate kiss, hands on either cheek, holding your head as he sighed happily into the kiss. You couldn’t stop yourself from melting into the kiss, hands gripping his shoulders. Pulling back, he grinned at the dazed look in your eyes. He didn’t bother to say a thing as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into another kiss, neither of you aware of the small audience that peeked through the windows, quietly cheering and exchanging bet money. 

Marco

     Sitting in his office, Marco smiled over at you. You always looked so at home in the solitude of his office, away from the rowdy and often boisterous crew. Helping the phoenix with whatever various paperwork or office work he had. He understood your desire to stay out of the spotlight, to stay away from the excitement and attention that often came with much of the crew. In fact, it astounded him that someone as shy as you even sailed with the Whitebeard Pirates. The most infamous pirate currently alive, someone everyone kept an eye on, and you stayed with them. Getting up, he walked over to you, pushing some hair out of your face and placing a gentle kiss to your forehead, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink. 

     “Sorry, Little Bird, you looked too cute-yoi.” he said softly, large hand cupping your cheek as he sat on the edge of the desk you were working at. Smiling up at him, you leaned into his touch, he was always so sweet. Turning your head, you placed a soft kiss on his palm, the sweet gesture making him sigh happily. Leaning down, he put a hand under your chin, his lips meeting yours, lightly pushing you back into your chair so he could deepen the kiss. Pulling away, you couldn’t help but giggle.

     “What’s so funny, Little Bird?” he asked, as you smiled at him.

     “It’s just… every kiss feels like the first with you. I… I still get butterflies and my stomach still does flips.” you admittedly shyly. 

     “I agree, your lips still taste just as sweet-yoi.” he said with a nod before pulling you into another kiss. He’d never been so happy that he worked away from the crew, able to share kisses like this with you as often as he desired.

Thatch

     The man was a damned flirt, though perhaps that’s what attracted you to him in the first place, how he made you swoon, how charming and sweet he was… his culinary skills didn’t hurt either. Well… mostly, in any case. It was sweet how he’d make you all sorts of culinary confections, cooking your favorite just for you, or other delicious treats. But he was always presenting them in the biggest, most ostentatious, attention drawing ways. Ways that had you looking for somewhere to hide from the prying eyes. Sure, he usually tried to keep said ostentatiousness in private, but on more than one occasion, he’d drawn the attention of damn near the entire crew to you. Hiding in the kitchen, you glanced back at Thatch, making sure that nobody could peek in and see the two of you. 

     “Don’t worry, my sweet treat, nobody’s going to bother us.” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. 

     “I just… you have a tendency to draw everybody’s attention and you know I hate that.” you said, placing one of your hands over his as you relaxed in his hold.

     “I’ll make you a deal, you give me one thing and I’ll try to be better about that.” he offered, making you raise an eyebrow.

     “I suppose that depends on the ‘one thing’.” you said, as he continued holding you.

     “Just… close your eyes and trust me.” he whispered in your ear, making you sigh both from exasperation and your heart melting. Doing as he said, you felt him let you go for just a moment before his hands were on your waist again, picking you up and setting you on the counter as his lips met yours. You wouldn’t deny that you’d been waiting for this moment for a while, but there never seemed to be a good, quiet, moment for your first kiss. A moment where the crew wouldn’t bother you with wolf whistles and ‘good natured’ teasing. Your hands clung to the yellow scarf he was always wearing, keeping him pulled close to you as you remained lip locked until you needed to breathe. 

     “A-alright, that… I’ll allow you one more for free, but after that you have to keep your end of the deal.” you said shyly, staring down at your lap as you blushed. Thatch chuckled and pulled you into another kiss, more than happy to get another ‘freebie’. 

[thosefuzzywordfeelings]

Superrrr late smutty thought (don't hate me) but thinking about taking Baron's virginity

And Gator's

I wrote for Gator for this one, because I’ve got something similar & longer coming soon for Baron! 🤍✨

It was the confidence. Parading around like he owned whatever ground his clunky boots walked upon, which he definitely didn’t; but he carried the demeanour so well.

Which is why when he’d sat cuddled up with you in your couch after a dinner date and suddenly got a little antsy when you rested your hand on his upper thigh; you were surprised to learn that he you were about to be his first.

“If you utter a hint of a laugh at me, I’m locking you in the stables.” He’d warn one night as you sat on the bonnet of his SUV outside the gas station. Sipping down a pink lemonade you’d raise an eyebrow and hold your hands up in defence.

“I won’t laugh, Gator, what?”

And so he said it. He was a ‘virgin’. You’d explained to him that you didn’t care, that sex isn’t the be all end all of everything and whenever he wanted to, he could. His face had softened at the reassurance, his lips coming to your temple as he smiled. He’d never met somebody like you, so caring, so understanding and patient. His father had said the two of you were like salt and sugar, intended as insult but when you’d both laughed about it; Gator had realised it was true. You were sweet, almost too sweet and it was a stark contrast to his own beliefs and behaviours. Which is why he trusted you.

So you’d invited him over to your place, setting up his favourite foods, drinks, lighting candles and just making sure he was going to be comfortable as he could with you. He’d be blown away, no one doing something so sentimental for him before.

With a soft kiss, and gentle hands running along his shoulders, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you harshly against him.

“Slow down, sweetheart. I’m right here.” You’d mutter against his mouth, thumb stroking along the apple of his cheek.

“Already hard, let’s do it now -“ He’d mumble, pulling back and palming at himself. You’d reach a hand down to hold his wrist still.

“Take a breath for me and just look at me. Look right here.” You’d say, wanting him to let go of any qualms and ideas he may have had through porn or whatever, wanting him to be in the moment.

And from the minute he was sat up in the middle of the bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as you sat down onto him slowly, his eyes were on yours - focused and feeling.

“Remind me to thank God for you, you’re fuckin’ heavenly.” He’d moan, looking up at you. He’d grip you close to him, his body pulsing and tensing as he felt himself throb inside you, his balls drawing up tighter than ever before as he came. His mouth would bite softly at your shoulder as he groaned, eyes squeezed shut.

“You okay?” You’d whisper after as he laid his head on your chest. Fingers threading through his chair, non-gelled for once as it fluffed over his forehead. He just nodded against your skin, pressing a sweet kiss to your sternum as he rested his chin and looked up at you in awe.

“Didn’t know it would, hell, could feel like that.” Gator would whisper gently, his voice a little trembly. You smiled down at him as you lifted your neck to kiss his forehead.

“And it always will, for as long as you’ll let me.”

[flowercitti]

Hi!! I loved your Tav/Astarion fic where they draw his face, it was so good and tender ; ; could i request something sweet where Astarion does something selfless for Tav? presumably after the graveyard scene in Act 3 where he's finally free to be himself! thank you!

Thank you sm im glad you enjoyed my other fic! 🌸🤍 And thank you sm for sending a request! Took me a little while to figure out what i wanted to do, but I hope this fits the theme!

Fluff/Angst/Gender-Neutral Tav

Astarion taking care of a sick Tav post-canon.

🌸

It has been a very long time since Astarion has cared for another living soul outside of his own.

What would he have done with compassion during those two centuries of torture? What good would it do him, to find himself caring, to find a morsel of kindness in his rotting soul? It would not have allowed him to escape Cazador, it would not have stopped the ache in his bones, the gnawing pain that ate away at his un-beating heart. Any softness inside of him quickly died with his screams of agony—or perhaps it had died the moment his heart stopped and his throat was ripped out, a corpse left to bleed out into the unforgiving dirt.

Astarion had woken up in his own grave, choking on congealed blood and forced to climb out through the dirt until his nails had fallen off. When he found Cazador there waiting for him, he knew that his life had ended a second time.

All he had was himself—trapped in his own body as he was, barely scraps of a person, skin and flesh that was named but left vacant.

He did not care for his supposed siblings. There was no point in feeling a thing for the poor, pitiful creatures that were just as trapped as he was. Unwilling perpetrators in his torture, but perpetrators nonetheless—sorry sacks of flesh that were just as fucked as he was. He thought—knew, for a long time, that none of them were going to make it out of this.

They were going to die here, enslaved and starving and empty, or tortured for the rest of eternity.

It was death that Astarion yearned for most after so long, when freedom seemed like the dreams of someone far younger and more naive than he was. It was barely a decade before he gave up, before he knew there was no point anymore. His body had been twisted, changed, and something wicked and burning pulsed through his veins—like the thick sludge of tar, like the foul stench of sewer water and waste.

Whoever Astarion was before—they were long gone now.

There was nothing left, no family, no friends, no lovers that lasted longer than a night. Perhaps he had a mother, perhaps not. He couldn’t remember after long enough, drowning in a cloud of pain, his mind swimming, thoughts and memories sliding out of his hands like water. Flashes of soft hands, of a motherly voice and the hum of a gentle melody to greet him at the deepest recesses of his mind. Maybe he had just come up with such a thing for comfort, he doesn’t know.

Days would pass in episodes of complete dissociation, his mind so utterly disconnected from his own body, eyes only catching flickers of lights and colors before he retreated again. His body would move and he would not know why, he would hear voices and he could never make them out, his mouth would move with noise that he could not hear.

Cazador hated it most—when Astarion was too gone to feel it.

“My sweet Astarion. Where have you gone, boy?”

Astarion was not sweet—his flesh felt putrid, like the peeling of rotten fruit, like he were flayed open and bare for picking. His mouth tasted like the blood of rodents and maggots, or the spit and release of another body he could not remember the face of. He felt like a retched thing, his blood poisonous and his mind infested, a disgusting thing that Cazador owned—a kept thing that did not remember what it felt like to be alive.

Other times, Astarion felt everything in bright, startling clarity. Every starburst of pain, every touch, every drop of his own blood spilling onto the floor. Cazador loved it when he screamed, when he was brought to pathetic tears, too broken to scramble for a semblance of dignity—but never so pitiful as to bother with begging. It would have done nothing, would have granted him no mercy, and would have only served to please Cazador’s sadistic whims. It was a lesson he had learned early, that he held no power, no control. What was done to his body was done, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Inescapable—pressing over his skin like a sticky film, keeping him trapped, keeping him present when all he wanted to do was slip away. It was a cycle, unending, and it went on for over two bloody centuries.

Any remnants left of Astarion’s heart had been carved out and eagerly feasted upon before his own eyes. He believed that he was never going to get it back, that he wouldn’t even want it, should it be offered. He had no use for it now, had no use for more weakness, more pain.

And then he finally tasted freedom again—and then there was Tav.

After two centuries of pure shit, of torture and existing as the barest sliver of a person, Astarion began to remember what it felt like to care.

It was fucking terrifying. It was exhilarating, gratifying, like waking anew. Astarion hasn’t even felt alive in the past two-hundred years, and now he feels like he’s been washed clean and left a different person. Hopefully for the better, this time around, and so much of it is due to Tav and their persistence. They helped him wipe Cazador’s sorry face off the planet, and stayed at his side every step away, patient and kind when Astarion didn’t deserve a bit of it.

He cares about them, even when he had thought he’d forgotten how to, and he can’t help but be grateful for even having the chance to try.

And right now—Tav is sick.

They’ve barely left their bed in two days now, curled under thick furs and shivering, little more than a head that peaks out from under their cocoon. They only leave to piss or puke their guts out, before crawling back under the comforters and passing out.

It isn’t fatal, and it will pass within the coming week, even with the discomfort and pain. Tav is resilient and tough, has been through far too much to be taken by simple illness. Astarion knows that they’ll make it out of this just fine, that they’ll be back on their feet soon. They don’t need a bedside nurse, and surely not in the form of Astarion of all people—but.

He’s cradling a bowl of soup in his hands. Its heat is stark against the natural frigidness of his skin, and the chicken broth makes his stomach turn, food that would expel itself immediately should Astarion venture for a taste. But the soup is for Tav, prepared to the best of Astarion’s ability, and surely edible. He hopes.

He places it on Tav’s bedside table, perching himself delicately on the edge of the bed.

“You haven’t eaten anything today, darling.” He says quietly, his hand brushing gently over Tav’s shivering shoulder. It’s nearly noon now, but the room is bathed in pitch black to protect Astarion from the sun’s rays. He misses the warmth of it, now that he is unable to traverse under its watchful eye—but he dispels the thoughts quickly lest it sour his mood.

Tav makes a small noise, turning over to face Astarion, blinking up at him blearily. Their eyes are glassy, their face tacky with sweat, lashes fluttering as they try focus.

“Huh?” They mumble dumbly, tongue thick in their mouth, a hitch catching in their throat that’s immediately followed by wracking coughs.

Astarion winces, placing a hand on their forehead and almost flinching away at the temperature, “You’re nearly scorching, dear.”

Tav blinks, their brows furrowing, “Thank you.”

Astarion resists the urge to allow his head to sink down into his hands.

He only huffs instead, “Come now, I need you sitting up for this. If you spill all this soup on yourself after I spent so much time preparing it, I’ll be very—upset with you.” The words are stilted, far softer than the terse tone he was going for. True, genuine threats used to slip off his tongue so easily, even in regards to Tav—if he was pissed off enough. Now, he just sounds like a doting hen—a loving husband, maybe.

But Tav looks nearly worried, though moving easily with Astarion’s urging hands, propped up against the headboard, cushioned with pillows.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Tav asks suddenly, their hand wrapping around one of Astarion’s wrists. They hold him there, a feverish looks in their eyes. “You—you haven’t fed in a while.” They pout, tugging at their shirt collar, as if they were preparing to bare their neck right then and there.

There’s something that twists behind Astarion’s ribs—tight and heart-shaped.

He pushes Tav’s shirt back up, lingering briefly over the warmth of their skin, “You’re sick, darling. I’m not feeding off of you when you’re like this. I shan’t starve without you, I promise.” He says lightly, taking the cooling bowl of soup in his hands, ignoring the violent churn of his gut. Tav looks nearly teary-eyed when he turns back to them, their lips twisted in discomfort, their gaze burning with fever. Astarion sighs quietly, taking the side of their face in one palm, silently delighted when they sink in to the gentle touch.

“Come now, don’t look so sad. How about this—I—I’ll feed you this time, hm?” His thumb traces over their cheekbone, “You needn’t be the one looking after me.”

Tav sniffles, “I like taking care of you.”

Astarion takes a measured breath, trying not to stare blankly at such a bold-faced admission. He thinks Tav may come closer to killing him than Cazador ever did.

“Yes, yes, I know dear. Now eat, and once you’re all better, you can be your perfect, doting self again.” He pulls his hand away reluctantly, but the warmth of Tav’s skin stays pressed into his palm.

But Tav seems to hum happily at the thought, gratefully accepting the spoonful of soup that Astarion brings to their lips. They make no obvious face of disgust, so Astarion decides that it truly is edible. That, or they’re too delirious from fever to even notice—but they eat the whole bowl regardless. They can barely keep their eyes open by the time its empty, their chest rising and dropping with slow, deep breaths.

“Lets lay you back down before you pass out. You’ll whine about the crick in your neck if you fall asleep like this.” Astarion tells them, bullying them back under the covers as they groan sadly, looking far too small and breakable against the large mattress.

“I feel awful.”

Astarion swallows, gently brushing his knuckles over their forehead. “You’ll get better soon, love. You needn’t worry.” The words sound as if they were meant more for him, a strange tightness in his throat.

He knows that they will be fine, he knows that. They’ve both been through worse. And yet—

He leans down, lips brushing over their forehead, far too hot and sweaty. He lingers for a moment longer anyways, listening to the soft murmur of contentment that leaves Tav’s mouth.

“I love you.” They mutter drowsily, their eyes flickering open for just a moment before they slip closed again.

Astarion breathes out, weak and shuddering.

“I love you too, darling. Now sleep, I’ll be back soon enough.”

🌸

Thank you sm for reading! If you wish to send me Astarion-flavored requests for fic or headcanons, they’re still open! ☺️🤍

[usedtobecooler]

slutty little blurby blurb about joe’s thick fingers 🤍

you find yourself staring at them all. the. time. and it’s hard to ignore them when he’s just constantly fidgeting, fingertips twiddling with his rings or running them through his hair or fixing his clothes. it’s just. constant.

he’s trying to have a conversation with you, and you’re trying to listen you really are — but he’s playing with the ring on his middle finger and you’re finding your brain short circuiting, as you watch his perfectly manicured nails dip under the band and slide it up to the knuckle then back down, a nervous habit.

your thighs clench. of course they do. you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something stupid, from launching yourself at him across the couch. he’s just a friend, just a totally normal friend who’s actually really famous now and could have any woman he wanted, he doesn’t want you like that.

“what size is that ring?” the words sputter out like word vomit before you can stop it, and your eyes go wide. he looks at you in confusion, and you bury your mouth in your glass of wine, swigging a large gulp full and willing the ground to swallow you up.

he chuckles, and it’s so deep you feel it fucking vibrate through your body, even though not one part of you is touching him, “i’m not sure, darling. it’s old. size twelve… fourteen maybe? i don’t know american sizings, it’s whatever a british ‘t’ is.”

your mouth waters. brain turning completely to mush as he draws attention to the ring for you to look at, slips it off of his finger and grabs at your own hand, sliding it deftly onto your thumb. you don’t have thin fingers either, really, but the ring is completely loose and slips back off when you move your hand.

“i have big hands.” he shrugs — and no shit, you fucking know. it’s not as if you hadn’t been lusting over them this entire time, or anything. he picks up the fallen piece of jewellery, pops it back on his finger, completely oblivious to how he just knocked the breath out of you.

you’re not sure how you ended up here. but you’re hazy from the alcohol and he cornered you in the bathroom, also very much past the stage of tipsy himself. his mouth is hot on your neck and you’re melting — what is happening? how did you get here?

“i see the way you look at them, love.” his voice is rough and gritty and you hate how you flutter and melt so easily for him, “do you want me to show you what i can do with them?”

and the cats got your tongue. you don’t know what to say, as his rough stubbled beard rubs at your neck, sure to leave a rash behind. but his lips are so soft, a complete contrast, as he peppers kisses on your flushed skin.

his hand slides up the inside of your thigh — hot and heavy and engulfing your flesh, a true testament to just how wide his hands were, “come on, darling. got to say something or i can’t do this for you.”

and he’s so sweet, of course he is. he’s waiting for your permission to touch you properly and your head is spinning — not from the alcohol but from how obsessed you were with him, as a person. you nod, a whiney little ‘please’ escaping your lips.

it’s that easy. his hand skirts up your thigh to rest on the mound of your cunt, hot and heavy. he tsks when he feels the damp patch you’ve left behind on the silky fabric, leaving his place in your neck to grin at you all stupid, “knew it.”

your fingers grip at the loose, white shirt he’s wearing, as he hooks two fingers into your underwear and pulls them to the side, baring your folds to the cool air. he’s hasty, a slight desperation in him as the pads of two of his fingers run in between your lips, gathering the juices.

they’ve not even entered you yet and they’re already spreading you wide, just the tips circling your hole — you honestly couldn’t brace yourself for it once he slid his middle finger in to the hilt, the metal of the ring catching on your entrance. you clench around it and he gasps, all mocking with his pearly whites on display.

“all this, for me?” he asks, and it’s probably not meant to come across so dirty but it does and you moan in response. he crooks his finger, the soft tip catching on your front wall, sliding over the spot that makes your eyes flutter.

he pumps his finger in and out a few times, before he’s running the tip of his ring finger on your entrance, preparing you for the breach of it. it doesn’t do anything, really, because when his second finger joins his first it feels like the airs being knocked out of your lungs. you whine, tugging him closer to you with the hand wound tight in his shirt.

you find yourself sinking up and down on his fingers to match his thrusts, and his wide, blown out eyes are caught between looking at the fucked out expression on your face and where his fingers are sliding in and out of your pussy. he’s mesmerised by it.

it’s a stretch. the thickness of his fingers evident now more than ever, and you can’t help but gasp every time you feel the cool metal of his rings on your folds. he’s clearly skilled in this, keeps crooking them just right, has a perfect pace set that has you hurtling towards the edge quickly.

he leans forward the rest of the way, closing the gap so your lips can touch. it catches you by surprise, but your hands release his shirt and tangle in his mop of messy curls instead, tugging his chest to yours whilst he licks into your mouth like a man starved, catching your moans with his lips.

his thumb flicks your clit unexpectedly, and you come fast after that, gushing down his fingers and no doubt leaving a mess in your wake. he laughs against your mouth, and you can’t help but laugh, too — the desperate want finally lifting from your mind and you realise how silly and fumbly the whole scenario was.

you feel empty once his fingers slide out, your eyes widening when you see his hand is soaked all the way to the wrist, your cum pooling around the rims of his rings. you watch through hooded eyes as he brings his fingers to up to your lips, runs the tips along your kiss slick mouth, then presses them onto your waiting tongue.

i have zero words for why i wrote this other than @daleyeahson bringing attention to joe’s massive hands by gifting him a new ring 😵‍💫

[kvthgok]

Fate | Miguel O’Hara x Teen Spider Reader (Platonic)

warnings- none I think

Summary- Miguel noticed how close you are are w/ Miles and gets upset cause he knows what will happen to you *cough cough you dying* 😍

Side note- this one is a lil short soooo yaur and surprise surprise it’s not proof read 🤍

“You don’t know they could just be best buddy’s like us!” exclaimed Peter putting his arm around Miguel. He sighed and shook his head, taking Peter’s arm off him. He wasn’t to thrilled that Miles and you have been hanging out. Hanging out a little to much to be ‘just friends’. First it started with a few mission , hanging out while training, doing graffiti/painting , drawing together, then you guys started crashing at each others earth, just being too close in general.

“They’re obviously more than just friends Peter. Look at them now” he pointed. They both looked over and saw you and Miles giggling like toddlers while sitting on one of the tables in Miguel’s office together. Miguel didn’t exactly hate Miles though. He really does believe he is a good kid. “She’s blushing and giggling with Miles! No way I don’t buy the they’re not dating, look me in the eyes and try to tell me they aren’t.”

Peter silently stared at you guys, starting to see Miguel had a point.

“Oh? No response? Thought so” . He sat down in his chair putting his hands on face slowly sliding them down. Don’t get him wrong seeing you happy made him happy but it was the fact who you were clearly in love with is that fact that made him upset. Cause he knew what would end up happening to you. He already knew your Fate.