#also idk if I should draw reader with hair or not

[inazumaneko]

Probs shouldn’t post this but fuck it, concept sketch for a future scene in “Brittle Bones Speak Brilliant Truth”

You can read it here!

[pearlzier]

⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀WHAT A DAY⠀ 𓈒⠀⠀✧

now playing . . . what a day by tyler the creator 𓈒⠀ ✧

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀warnings / drabble, pwp, public, sex on the beach, horny matt, switch!matt, switch!reader, titty sucking, fingering, oral (f!recieving)

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀author's notes / might make a bot based off of this idk yet but hope u guys likey also theres fucking fireworks and theyre overstimulating me so ripping my hair out right Neow.

"MATT, YOU CANT—someone's gonna—" you swat at matt's hand as it slides up over the curve of your thigh, fingers dancing over the warm flesh. a cheeky grin plays on his lips, all intentions in his head far from innocent. it's like he has no shame whatsoever. "can't what? m'not doing anything." not now, he's not. later? yeah, he'll be doing plenty of things. including you.

he presses his fingers into your thighs, glancing around to check whether anyone was nearby, any prying eyes. his blue eyes linger on someone a few metres away, assessing whether they'd come nearby or see what you and him were doing but he comes to the the conclusion that you're in the clear. matt looks back at you, attempting to look innocent as his fingers make gentle passes over your inner thigh. "c'mon, babe," he couldn't think straight with you in that bathing suit, he'd made it clear when you'd left the house and he certainly wanted to make it clear now.

"matt," it's not like you don't want him to touch you, of course you do, he's fucking magic with his hands, tongue, and other devices he has at his disposal—but there's people near and you don't feel like being sent to the slammer for public indecency. "i swear to god, can't you keep it in your pants for once?"

matt scoffs, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he looks at you again. the way the bikini top curves around your tits, pushing them up a little, the way the bikini bottom curves around your ass, only making it more prominent to his eyes, has him salivating, and straining against his swim shorts. his hand slid down, trying to calm himself down, with a little readjustment of the material. "keep it in my pants, my ass.." he slips his fingers down into the top of your bikini bottoms, pausing for a moment to look at you.

"unless you don't want me to," matt looks at you, eyes softening for a moment. you feel your heart soften too—as much as chris wants to get his dick wet, he does care for you. he wouldn't do anything you didn't want him to.

"what? no," you scoff, "it's okay, i just—" you glance up, before relaxing against the lounger with a thick swallow as you slink down to be unseen by others. chris takes this as the opportunity to touch you further, his fingers sliding down beneath the bathing suit to part your folds, a soft groan escaping matt at how wet you are. "acting like being seen by others doesn't turn you on," he tuts, drawing his fingers across your clit for a moment in gentle circles before he shifts his palm, taking two fingers and circling them around your entrance now. "it turns you on, doesn't it? being seen?" he in turn scoffs too, "say it."

"you can't just bully me into saying that," you mumble, attempting to be defiant. the way his fingers glide over your cunt however has you clenching around nothing like a whore. really stops you from having any power in this situation, doesn't it?

"if you're gonna be like that, maybe i should just.." matt now feigns disinterest, moving his fingers away. a quick, low gasp escapes him however when your hand lands on his and you bring it back to your wet hole, near shoving his fingers inside.

"i swear to god, matt, don't pull that shit," his cheeks flush a bit and he swallows thickly, nodding for a moment. he falls more in love with you everyday. just the eay you spoke to him, confident, but still adoring, made his gut tighten.

deciding that teasing you may not work in his favour like he'd planned, he reluctantly sinks his fingers into your waiting, wanting hole, slow and steady. he acts as if thr sight of you crumbling at the mere feeling of his fingers doesn't turn him on beyond belief. "just needed my fingers, huh?" he hums, more than a little proud of myself, "yeah? that got you on my side," he shifts his weight, causing a flutter in your heart to find that he's practically using his body to block you from the view of everyone else. as much as he likes the thought of being seen, he's far too possessive to actually let them.

"just needed your fingers," you agree with a little moan, your hips bucking impatiently, back arching into his touch whilst you gasps under your breath. thighs enclosing on his hand, you grasp tight at the lounger beneath you. "fuck, like that.." head lulling back a bit, you mumble, "more, need more."

matt happily obliges in your request, thumb lifting to your clit to rub tight circles around it. soon, his fingers slip out of you only to slide back into your sensitive pussy, finding a rhythm that's to your liking. he crooks his fingers, curling them upwards as they pump within you. the feel of your tight walls clenching him, combined with your pretty sounds, it has him rocking his hips slowly against the lounger beneath the two of you. "look so pretty like this," he says quietly.

"yeah? like this?" your voice is soft, lilted with the throes of pleasure hitting you from the simple feel of his fingers. your lashes flutter, hazy with your arousal as you rock against his hand. the friction hits your clit, matched with his thumb occasionally flicking against it, and in minutes, he has you squealing and whining on him. "shit.."

matt doesn't have to ask you to know you're close, him simply leaning in and pressing his lips to yours has you squeezing his fingers tight and gushing on him, soaking his digits in your juices. meanwhile, your lips collide in a kiss, his tongue sneaking into your mouth to play with your own. his hand keeps moving beneath the two of you till you squirm away a little, and he slides his fingers from you after. both of your eyes flutter open, and a giggle slips past your lips.

this causes a chuckle to escape matt too, and he tilts his head, "what are you laughin' at, hm, baby?"

"nothin'," you say instantly, still giggling away. his brows raise, and he smiles against your shoulder, starting to leave gentle kisses. you're pliant beneath him and his affection, free hand sliding onto his bare back and rubbing gently before your fingers thread through his hair, tugging him closer. matt shifts, practically getting on top of you so he can play with you as he pleases. "someone's eager," you muse, teasingly.

"can't i appreciate my girl?" matt's mouth latches to your soft skin, teeth occasionally breaching the flesh to bite and leaving hickeys. his tongue flicks against the marks he leaves, and he pulls back for a moment. his chest rises and falls in gentle breaths, murmuring, "look at you.. gorgeous girl," his gorgeous girl.

he straddles you, and you look up at him with a flutter of your lashes. your breath hitches a bit, and matt smiles at the sight. "how you feelin'?" his voice is quiet, low, as he brushes his fingers over the fabric of your bikini top. tilting his head to the side, he tugs down the material, causing a gasp from you. "matt!"

"hey, hey, no one's gonna see you," matt reassures, voice calm, as he shifts down to rest between your legs with them around his hips so he can get his hands on your tits. he soon disgards the flimsy fabric, swallowing thickly as he sees your chest. "fucking gorgeous," he mumbles under his breath, planting his face on your soft breasts. the sight makes you laugh, and your nerves calm a little more.

"you're like a baby," he is, craving your warmth. he looks up at you from his position against you, and he smiles, breath warm against the soft flesh. he leans in a little more, tongue flicking against the underside of your breast. your hips shift, arms coming to wrap around him to draw him closer. matt swallows thickly, moaning against you. you're so warm and inviting, body so soft, he can't help but be drawn to you.

his hands lift to your tits, grasping and groping like he might die if he doesnt. matt's breath hitches akin to how yours did previously and he shifts closer, flicking his tongue against your nipple. you squirm beneath him, "that's it, oh.. fuck," he whines when you tug at his hair, and his mouth latches against your nipple, plush lips shiny with his spit. "suck, like that," matt grunts, warm tongue swirling around your hardening bud.

a soft smile adorns your face when you see the way hes practically humping the lounger, quiet sounds slipping past his lips. "you okay?" he nods, lifting his head for a moment, "shut up," he adds, too, because he knows why you were asking. he gives your other breast some attention for a moment, before he pulls back once more, watching his spit glistening on your soft chest. he could cum in his pants right there, he realises.

"mmh, lift yourself up a little," matt murmurs as he shifts himself down a bit on the lounger, grasping at the sides. he watches you move, and you watch him, hips lifting a tad. this is where matt grabs your legs and tugs them over his shoulders, taking place between them. "hi," he smiles softly, burying his head against the meat of your thigh.

"hey, you," you respond with a soft laugh, your arm lifting to cover your tits now that matt had moved down. he lets out an irritated whine when you do so but he doesn't move your srm, a sigh slipping past his lips. running his fingers through his hair, he shifts his weight, focusing his attention to between your thighs.

you feel flush instantly when you realise what he's doing, "matt, you don't have to—"

"i want to, so i'm going to," he tells you matter-of-factly, and you simply relax back. no need to protest if thats what he wants, you suppose. you'd get your pussy ate, he'd be happy. a win win. the sight of him between your legs, kissing at your warm skin in a tease, makes you groan softly, "don't tease me, i told you not to—"

"but.." he starts.

"matt," he obediently runs his fingers over the fabric concealing you from him. not like it'd stop him, it didn't stop him a few moments ago when he had you cumming on his fingers, so why would it stop him when he wanted to bury his head in your cunt and devour you? exactly.

his fingers slip over your bikini bottom before he slides it to the side, your thighs twitching at the air hitting your wet skin. your folds are puffy from your orgasm previously, and he coos at the sight, eyes meeting yours. he swallows hard, and you get a tad bit impatient. "you gonna keep starin', matt?"

"no, no.." matt mumbles, before he leans in to you, eyes locked on yours as he tentatively glides his tongue over your skin. he laps up your juices, moaning against you. his tongue flattens into your heat, and he looks like he's having the time of his fucking life. matt's nose bumps your puffy clit, causing a whimpery noise to slip past your lips. he eats you out like a man starved, like you're everything he needs. "taste so good, baby, this pussy tastes so good," the vibrations of his moans only jolt your cunt, and you gasp softly, practically squeezing your thighs around his head.

not to his chagrin, no, to his delight. he could die between your thighs, face buried in your pussy. he doesn't hesitate to let you know, either.

"could die right here, right.. here.. mmh, nnh," his hips needily buck against a pillow on the sun bed, giving him a friction he so desperately needs as he eats you out, tongue dipping in and out of your hole before dragging over your folds once more.

"oh, oh, matt, mmmh," you whine, practically seeing stars from his tongue and moans alone. his sounds grow louder, as do yours, and you tighten your grip on his head with your thighs till you burst, once more, cumming on his face and leaving him a mess. you're afraid matt's fucking passed out against you, glancing down quickly, but he's simply in bliss. "i'm alive," death by pussy would be his preferred way to go, but not now.

"okay, good," he lifts his head, mouth glistening with your juices as he pushes himself back up. his eyes are wide, soft, and he swallows hard. his lashes flutter, and he mumbles, "that.."

"i know," you lean back, glancing up at him. he's smiling gently, lazily, eyes fluttering over your face. you do too, till your gaze falls down to his swim shorts, and the large wet patch forming. matt's cheeks flush instantly and he hides his face in your shoulder, "shut up!" he swallows thickly.

"i was ju—" you start, grinning at his embarassment at cumming in his shorts.

"shut up," matt mumbles, shifting to straddle you once more, "and you know i'll make you," your eyes widen for a moment, and well, okay, you know he will.

⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor , @sturncakez , @luverboychris , @sirenedeslily , @evrithingbagel , @sl4ttformattsturniolo , @mazzystar111 , @flouvela

[nanamiskentos]

BORN TO DIE — Geto Suguru minors dni!

prologue. → it's been three years since suguru left all you had ever known, crumbling it into the fine dust of the earth. a suspiciously timed mission from gojo leads you right into the arms of the man you swore to kill. well, fuck him right?

pairing. geto suguru x afab!reader

warnings+. implied/mild gojo x reader, lovers to enemies, or enemies to lovers, past relationship, injuries, mentions of blood, reader is lowkey violent, some establishing plot idk, geto is kind a jerk (well he's a cult leader so) but hes also down bad, making out, doing it raw and desparate (wrap it before yall tap it!), creámpie etc, minor mentions of infidelity, ríde him until he sees stars trope, minor implied stsg, suguru lowkey a messy slút for this <3 🩵

word count. 4.5k song inspiration. born to die — lana del rey

a/n. heehee

mp3.. my heart it breaks every step that i take, but i'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine

ask to be added to a taglist! likes and reblogs appreciated <3

fuck suguru geto.

literally.

it had been days of you tracking down a mere rumour of curses that haunted this side of the mountain, and you know you're close — close enough to feel the cold prickling along your skin, ripe with cursed energy with that taste of something unnatural and spectral in the air.

gojo had delegated this mission to you, claiming that you had a natural born talent for hunting curses, but you knew the truth was that he had laid on the flattery thick, so that he could kiss you chastely on the cheek, go take a day off, and let you handle this one on your own.

but just as you raise your hand to cast a light, a flash of movement catches your, a fleeting gleam, drawing you off the trail before you even realise where you're going.

you round the grove, and the sight ahead steals the breath from you. through the night's shadows, a pale blue light pulses, illuminating a tall figure whose outstretched hand has already grasped the curse, right into a neat orb.

it would take only a heartbeat to recognise the sorcerer, but you feel as though your heart has leapt into your throat, your blood pulsing under the thin skin, with such dizzying shock. your chest has tightened, and each breath is laced with something sharp and electric — not sadness, nor grief.

anger.

suguru geto.

you swallow against the burning in your throat, his features are half-lit by the eerie glow of his cursed technique, and yet they are sharper than you remembered, refined and all the more hauntingly familiar.

but he's turned, with his raven hair spilling over his shoulders, and violet eyes meet your own, and you scowl as his lips curl up, voice smooth as he speaks.

"hey. it's been a while."

"you...you — fuck you!"

ugh, now it's just embarrassing. you had spent three years, pondering and wondering what cutting words you'd deliver upon suguru geto when you saw him again. and now you can barely get a sputter out without your eyes wandering over him.

geto raises a singularly arched brow, "don't you think we should catch up first?"

"i should kill you," you wonder if your fractured voice betrays how quite literally unravelled you feel right now, like the earth has fallen out beneath you, and you're not sure if you're moving towards him, or taking a step back, "oh my god, i should actually just kill you."

you wonder how you should do it. draw a blade and let it kiss his skin, to see red split out from his throat. or if you just forgo a weapon and push the air from him until his creamy skin is red and bruised.

but he's beautiful, he's so beautiful and it leaves you wondering if this is how orpheus felt when he turned around in that tunnel, and saw eurydice again. if he was also planted in the ground, unable to move at the sight of what his heart most wanted.

the boy who once broke your heart is now a man, draped in robes of deep purple and green, and gold. a man with ghostly eyes that leave you unsure on whether you're furious, or wanting.

still wanting to wrap your hands around his throat, perhaps. you tamp down any other traitorous thought.

"what's your business here?" you manage, and you wonder if he can hear a tremor, and a crack where all that hurt was buried when you were seventeen years old.

but geto just smiles, "you don't think i'd notice the presence of a curse on my own estate? or a jujutsu sorcerer? you've come a long way, haven't you?"

"huh - your estate?"

ah, it hits you, as you follow your line of sight behind geto's head, past the thick trees that you've been wandering in, to where silver rods strike up, out into the dark sky — the roof of what's clearly an important building, the time vessel association.

you cross your arms, "you mean your bullshit cult?" you wonder how quick you can pull out a knife, one of several that you must have taken with you on your missions.

now it's his turn to scowl at you, and a petulant expression dances across his face, but geto doesn't address your barb, "you've come a long way, did satoru send you here?"

you bark out a laugh, "that's gojo to you now."

now he’s right in front of you, and you force yourself not to swallow or betray even a flicker of nerves.

you hold his gaze, determined and unwavering but geto has always been tall, his frame deceptively broad beneath the layers of his robes, but standing this close, you catch the heady scent of allspice and sandalwood, maybe even some ceremonial incense.

"oh, i'm sorry. only you get to call him satoru now, is that right?"

you're not stupid, you know that there's an undertone of a question in his snarky tone, well fuck him. you don't owe him an answer of what your life has been like in the past three years (nor what gojo's has been like, for that matter).

he watches you for an answer, with a face as elegent as an idol in an ancient shrine, pale and luminous against the moon-lit sky. you briefly wonder how a tall, beautiful boy who floated around campus with headphones around his neck, and an obscure band-tee, had managed to peel off his skin and carve himself into something more holy, like a heian-era deity.

"suguru," you finally breathe, and your head feels jumbled and aching. he tilts his head, lips parted, as if he's been waiting for his name to fall from your lips, and he's savouring it.

"come with me," he says simply, gesturing to the shadowed building behind him, and his hand lingers in the air, as his pale, slender fingers reach towards your own, "just this once, you don't have to tell him, y'know."

yes, you know. you should refuse, fuck, you should have been grinding his blood into the earth, for the night has no time for traitors. and if you were to take his hand, it would make you one as well.

oh, how easily suguru geto has always been able to unravel you, and all you've ever known or believed in.

suguru's fingers are like ice as they close around your wrist, with a firm but unhurried grip, pulling you along that makes resistance feel almost laughable.

you try to twist free, but he only glances back, with a teasing smile over his face, "still as defiant as ever," he murmurs, and you're not sure whether your cheeks are flushed from how he's drinking the sight of you in.

"i wouldn't be if you weren't dragging me through this place like some prisoner."

suguru laughs, "is that what you are?" and a dangerous, dormant merriment glints in his violet eyes, "i thought you'd come with me willingly."

his voice is maddeningly calm, as if this was some routine rendezvous, as if he hadn’t walked out of your life three years ago and left nothing but emptiness behind. suguru leads you down a long hallway lined with tall, flickering candles, their dim glow casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. it's so quiet you can hear your own breathing, each inhale tinged with the scent of incense that lingers on his robes.

you give another half-hearted tug against his grip, but his hold only tightens, but he stops, looking down at you, his gaze softening, almost pitying. "save your strength. we’re nearly there. and i need you to behave, and be quiet."

you hate the way your heart races at his touch, at his command, at the intimacy of this shadowed corridor that seems to belong to no one but the two of you.

"and where exactly are you taking me, suguru?" you ask, voice brittle.

"patience. you'll see soon enough."

he leads you forward again, each step echoing through the silence until he finally stops at a large, dark-stained wooden door. his fingers slide away from your wrist, leaving your skin tingling in their absence, and your own fingers curl outwards wanting to reach for his again before you tuck your hand away shamefully.

you can see his smile out of the corner of his eye. he knows this, and more.

but now suguru glances back, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "you came all this way," he says, voice low. "i thought you wanted to catch up."

yeah. catch up.

that's exactly what you'd call it when you barrel through the doors alongside him, and push your mouth against his, hearing the satisfying breath that he draws before he's moving against you too.

you lean into suguru, feeling the heat radiate from his broad body as every nerve in your skin awakens as his lips crash against yours with a fervour that leaves you breathless. it's been three long years since you last felt this, anything, like this and you fight back whatever demon lurches within you — an ode to bittersweet rage, longing and want.

you can taste him in your mouth, a mix of mint and even something sweeter, and it stings you, pricks at every cut he must be leaving over you. but suguru's hands grip your waist, and you wonder if he feels just as you do. but he must, for his arms have pulled you in, anchoring you onto his chest, as if he's afraid you might slip away (just as he had, from you).

you don't know where the tears came from, but salt runs down your cheeks, mingling in with your kisses, and you take a moment to pull away from him, and trace his face with shaking fingers.

"i should hate you," you breathe out, but how can you when he stares down at you as if you've reached into his chest and clawed his heart out. a killer, a traitor, a murderer. but it's still him all the same.

but his lips are now on your face, as his tongue runs over the streaked sorrow, licking it right up, "don't," and now his tone is pleading, suguru geto is pleading above you, "i can't live with you hating me. just let me do this."

he leans into your more deeply and your hands move instinctively, slipping beneath the soft fabric of his robes, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. you explore the contours of his muscles, tracing the lines of his body, every touch igniting a spark that sends shivers through you, makes your own core feel heavy.

it's delicious how his breath hitches as you slide your hand even lower, past the waistband of his pants, right where the hard evidence of his desire is plain, and there's a satisfying rush of power that courses through you at his response, at the breath of air suguru rushes through his teeth in a low keen as he separates yourself from your panting mouth, to trail his soft lips on the sensitive skin lower.

his teeth briefly sink into the juncture of your neck, and you jolt at the brief pain before he runs his tongue over the fresh marks, soothing, hot.

his large hands are both under your top now, moving over the expanse of your stomach and up, up until they cup both your breasts, pinching, and twirling and leaving you slick with the arousal that has gathered at the apex of your thighs.

"so pretty, ah! so - pretty," suguru breathes, and you quirk your lips up as he lowers you slowly to the mat. he'd let you to quite a bare room, with nought in it save for the floor and the walls, but you're honestly content with him having his way with you like this.

you should feel guilty, you should be seeing blue eyes peering up at you from between your thighs, white hair plastered with the sweat of exertion.

but instead, all you see is the twilight sky, brushstrokes of black and dusky violet as suguru takes his place on his chiselled stomach, as you feel the mat press into your shoulder blades while you lay flat on your back.

"stay with me, gorgeous," he murmurs, his breath warm against the skin of your thighs. his plush lips brush against your mound, and you squirm and shake from the need, the need to feel his mouth lower and you cannot help but just arch into him, mewling as he starts drifting his fingers down.

"oh my god, oh!," you're almost embarrassed to be put in this position, moaning like a wanton whore, but you can't just bring yourself to stop, "fuck, suguru. can you please -"

and you're bucking your hips up towards his mouth, begging him to get a hint, and give you a hit of the pleasure that you're so craving.

but suguru stares at you flatly, and then in between your legs almost methodically, like he's waiting for something, and the flat of his palm rests heavy over your clothed cunt.

"i don't think so," he mutters, "tell me something first," and he's playing with the elastic band of your underwear, pulling it to the side before snapping it back, thwack!

"tell me you don't hate me. i need to hear you say it, that you never hated me," and you can feel a new bruise bloom on the inner corner of your thigh from his teeth's ministrations.

"i don't hate you! please, suguru, i could never, ah! -" and you don't get the chance to even finish your sentence before the man is pressing his tongue straight to the damp, translucent patch of fabric that's been soaked with your slick.

his teeth have caught on the fabric deliberately, and he's pulling the fabric, up and up, and the sight makes you so incredibly delirious that you wonder how on earth you're going to recover after this.

and to your credit, his eyes have gone wide, and hazy even — and you enjoy watching him swallow, adam's apple bobbing as suguru seems so entirely pussydrunk, just from you alone.

oh, now you have an idea, and so you pull yourself up and onto him, and he lets you push him down so your positions are reversed. he looks so beautiful like this, dark hair splayed out and falling over his flushed face, as you straddle his thighs, lewdly dripping over his robes as you try to gain some friction from the fabric.

"you're so desparate, baby. didn't think you'd be so — mmph! fuck!" it seems that all it takes to shut suguru geto up is a well-intentioned roll of your hips against his groin, and his hands shoot up to find their place on your waist, rubbing small circles over your hipbones.

you let out a shaky laugh, leaning down to press your lips to his again, "yeah, that's what i thought," and you kiss him, quick and almost outstandingly chaste, and you grin in satisfaction as he leans up again to chase your lips as soon as you separate.

as moonlight spills into the room, you decide to make short work of his robes, reaching underneath the silk to part the fastening, revealing the smooth ripple of muscle underneath, illuminated like godly marble in the silver light. suguru's gaze is fixed on you, his breath shaky and quickening, as he lets you trace your nails lightly over his abdomen.

taking a quick breath, your fingers slide beneath the waistband of his pants once more, and you relish at how suguru's entire body tenses at your touch, his breath hitching, "oh, fuck! right there," as your hands make contact with his cock, feeling the soft skin and the steel underneath. it's large, and heavy in your hands and you gulp, and realise now he's enjoying your reactions.

"there you go, you've had your fun," he breathes out, before shifting your hips back till you're situated right over his cock, "now, let me handle this."

you're barely given a few seconds to catch your breath before he sheathes himself, gliding straight into you thanks to the obscene amount of arousal practically weeping from your cunt, and you keen up at the sky, writhing from the delicious stretch of his wide cock that's made its home in your gummy walls.

"oh, ahh - suguru! wait, let me -," and you shift yourself, groaning as you feel his cock right in the sweetest spots, so you're in his embrace and he gladly envelops his arms around you, bringing you closer and planting desparate, hot kisses on your skin as your nails create crescents in his smooth skin.

suguru seems just as whipped as you are, gone from this mortal plane of the earth and onto a higher level of existence, just from your pretty, tight pussy that's holding him together, "keep doing that, pretty, look how. good. you. take. me."

and each word is punctuated by suguru's hips bullying into yours, pushing his cock deeper and further than you thought you could ever handle, as his mouth pants under yours, "taking it like a fuckin' champ. missed this, missed this so much."

you missed it too, chasing after the feeling of threading your fingers through his soft black locks, feeling him shudder as you scraped your nails down the back of his head,

"yeah, that's it," oh, suguru's always been mouthier like this, when you're sucking up him so deliciously, ramming his hips and angling them in a way that has your abdomen tingling, and has your eyes (and his) seeing stars and the heavens.

he taps his shoulders, where his dark robes have slipped off, revealing the smooth expanse of toned muscle and hot skin, "hands here, baby. keep you steady, yeah?"

and you plant your hands on his chest, determined to swivel your hips in a way that has you gasping for air, and glancing down right where - fuck, where you can quite literally see his bulge through your skin.

"oh, suguru! ah, keep doing that!" you desperately hope that these premises were vacated, for your unrestrained moans must have been rippling through the thin walls, strained and throaty as they bounced off wood.

and you just couldn't pull your eyes away from the sight of him, intoxicating as he was. suguru under you, broad chest heaving as he caught his breath with every rock of your hips — with a flush painting his creamy skin, framed by dark strands of hair that fanned messily around his face, falling in careless waves over his forehead and brushing against his cheekbones.

you couldn't help yourself, curling your fingers in the unruly halo and drawing him up, closer to your face as his crimson-bitten lips parted slightly, clacking around a deep groan.

his mauve eyes lifted away from the swell of your chest once more, hazy with exhaustion, but they softened as they met your own gaze with an almost reverent, quiet awe. even lying there, while you quite literally rode him to hell and back, cunt pulsing against his cock in a way that left you both breathless, he looked at you as if you were some vision, and his rosy-bruised mouth curled again.

"always thought you - hah - looked like a dream," he murmured, his gaze tracing your face as if he were committing every detail to memory, "i used to think that i had forgotten, or tried to forget how beautiful you were, are."

"but now," and he bucks his hips into a steady tempo, a constant allegro, "seeing you here, like this as if you were made for fuckin' me, how could i ever forget?"

his fingers are still under your top, brushing against your spine and you mewl, pressed close enough to him so your breasts press against the hard planes of his chest.

"stay a little longer, yeah?" he whispers, "just let me look at you, fuck! don't think i'd ever be able to stop lookin' at you anyway. can't get enough of you," and he reaches a hand in between your thighs, finding your swollen clit and beginning to run soft circles around it with the pads of his fingers, "don't think i'll ever get enough."

it's becoming too much, the harsh smack of his skin against yours, the feeling of your throbbing clit being showered with white-hot attention from his quick hands, the counter of his dense shaft gliding down your pliable walls, spanning them out until you can feel him so deep within you, "fuck, it's too good - mmph, way too good, i can't -"

you're practically tangled in his arms, in the arms of a man who should have been an enemy, a traitor, one who crumbled all that you held once dear. but his chest rises and falls erratically against yours, and you can feel him heartbeat jump, grounding you in the most unbearable way,

his fingers are now bruising your hips, leaving marks that you're sure (in the back of your mind, somewhere that's still rational) satoru would easily be able to recognise but you can't bring yourself to care.

you can't tell whose tears are staining the fabric of his robes between you, his or yours. the line between the two of you blurs as much as the fog in your mind from the way his cock has driven into you, made its imprint in a way that you'll never forget.

"suguru -" you're wondering if your poor, torn heart will just simply give out now, why is it so hard to breathe? each press of his fingers against your clit has you moaning over the shell of his ear, "i'm close, hah, i'm so close, suguru."

he chuckles weakly, bubbling from him and mingled in with a grunt, "yeah, i fuckin' know. i know." and his soaked fingers are still drawing circles in your sticky arousal that's leaking from you, over his cock, over his robes, dampening the dark trail of hair that coats his groin.

"always been mine." and as he bites your neck, teeth sinking into you, you feel the coil in your abdomen snap! and god, you don't think you could ever go back. not like this.

you can't even imagine the picture you must paint now, lips parted and open as you feel yourself being rocked through your orgasm in a way that leaves you untethered from the earth. how the spasm of your walls must finally trigger his own release, and suddenly he's stiffened too as thick, creamy ropes of his seed find their home in you, "see, mine. always mine, don't go soft on me now, pretty. oh my god, fuck!"

all you can truly do is let him handle you now, let his arms tighten and pull you in as close as possible, so his teeth are tugging on your lips, kissing right into your mouth as you ride out the stars of your own release, tears springing to your eyes once more from the overstimulation, hands digging into the woven mat under him.

later, you lie in suguru's arms, wrapped up entirely in the exhausation (and guilt, oh fuck, the guilt of what you've done) of the world, and everything else feels hazy and irrelevant. the steady rhythm of his breath in small puffs is the only thing grounding you, the warmth of his chest rising and falling against yours. he's tracing soft lines across your back, like he's trying to memorise the feel of you.

"suguru," you whisper, your voice breaking once more on his name, lips close to the damp skin of his neck. you're not sure if you're still crying, or if this is the quietest, most intimate form of surrender that has replaced the weathered storm.

he doesn't speak for a long moment, but his grip has tightened on you, as though he's trying to draw you even closer, like your soul will meld into his, "don't," and his voice is ragged raw, "you don't have to leave just yet."

the quiet desperation in his words cracks your heart, and for the first time in three years, the distance between the man who had become a shadow, and the boy you once knew feels almost unrecognisable.

his face turns toward yours, his eyes searching yours, as if he’s looking for something to anchor him, something to give him the assurance that all the destruction he’s caused, all the distance between you, can still be undone.

but you’re not sure if it’s possible.

you want to say something, anything, but the words lodge in your throat, too heavy and too tangled to escape. you let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart, matching the pace of your own.

"i don’t know if i can stay, suguru," you say, "how can we go back to what we were?"

"then let me make it up to you," he says softly, his voice shaking with a quiet urgency, as though this is the last chance he’ll ever have. "let me show you what i've built here. that you don’t have to leave."

if you stay, you risk losing yourself. you risk losing the anger that you had cherished, and treasured, nurtured and held onto. the anger that had guided you through the world. still, as you meet his gaze, something inside of you shifts. maybe it’s the way his hands slide gently up your back, steady and sure.

"please," he breathes again, his forehead resting gently against yours. "don’t leave. do not do to me, what i should never have done to you."

the moonlight spills through the cracks of the window, and it brings to mind the flicker of bright blue eyes, six eyes, alongside their warmth and steady presence, and you wonder if the earth will swallow you whole for what you've done.

you should never have come here. you shouldn’t have allowed yourself to get caught up in suguru's gravity again, shouldn’t have let him pull you back into this mess of old feelings and broken promises.

suguru's low, tired laugh pulls you from your thoughts, his breath warm against your skin. he pulls back slightly, his dusky eyes gleaming with something you can’t quite place — a spark of surprise, maybe amusement, even a little mockery, but there is no lie in his eyes.

"satoru?" he says, the name slipping from his lips with a touch of disbelief. "you really think he hasn’t visited me in the past three years either?"

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. FANTASIZE

I know what you fantasize about

TAKUMA INO x SUCCUBUS! READER.

sum: ino, desperate to feel the touch of a woman, seeks out alternative options. which includes, summoning a demon into his house.

cw: ooc characters, modern au (no cursed techniques), lowkey loser ino (i love him), virgin!ino, switch (both of you), handjob, blowjob, cowgirl, praise, pussy-drunk ino, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (on both sides), demons, demon rituals, angst if you squint, porn no plot, chubby reader, gojo is a bit of a dick, etc.

it was so funny looking up rituals for summoning a succubus, i know the person watching my phone activity is concerned. also, does this count for kinktober? idk i’m new around here. but i got this idea while working so…:) hope you enjoy. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.

Takuma Ino was having a bit of dilemma. It wasn’t anything serious like a sickness or losing his home, rather— it was actually quite silly.

He has never, in his twenty-one years of living, made love to a woman. Or anyone for that matter.

Now he’s been on dates before. Has flirted with woman, hell; even kissed a few. But, it never went farther then that. He wasn’t sure why, it ate him up inside that he didn’t have such experience like his seniors Gojo and Geto, even Nanami. And as much as he’d like to find the root of the problem, Ino refused to ask any of them for some perspective.

The thought alone made him want to curl into a ball and die.

But him being inexperienced wasn’t a secret, given Satoru teased him on it constantly. Much to the younger man’s dismay.

Things really took a turn one night, however, when Gojo said something a little off-putting.

At this point, you should just summon a succubus.

The statement was quickly overshadowed by Geto stating the white-haired male was being rude, along with Nanami agreeing. But in that moment, Takuma Ino wasn’t focused on Gojo’s lack of manners, rather; his mind swarmed with that idea.

Was it possible? Were such creatures real? Could he really summon one?

Ino was desperate. He felt something was lacking inside of him having no experience and all. So, just the thought of a solution like this.. well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

Which brings him to tonight, the man seated crisscrossed on his bedroom floor; staring down at the pentagram and candles in the middle of the room. He had spent hours before searching the web for summons, deciding on a relatively easy one. Drawing the pentagram took much more time then he wanted it to, along with placing the candles down. It was currently dark out, the moon shining into his already lit bedroom.

Ino pursed his lips, a bout of anxiety developing in the pit of his stomach. What if, he messed it up somehow? The thought of dealing with something worse then a succubus scared him much more than never having sex. However, another thought plagued him..

What if it didn’t work? Was it really worth wasting time on some stupid comment Gojo made?

It took a moment for Ino to decide his next choice of action, leaning on his crossed legs as an exasperated sigh escaped him. Moments of silence passed before he rose up, a small fuck it, escaping him. Leaning against his bed, the man glanced at his phone, reading through the remaining steps quickly.

“Okay, blood.. then chant.” Ino gulped softly. Settling his phone back beside him, he reached for the pocket knife off to the side. Flipping it open, he placed the blade against his palm, squeezing the handle of the small weapon. His breathing got heavy for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth— glaring down at his hand. Quickly, Takuma slid the blade across his skin, a sharp hissing escaping him once the wound started to sting. He watched as scarlet red blood slowly bubbled from the cut, breath hitching as the sight.

Ino breathed, lifting his hand over the pentagram and rose petals in the middle; watching droplets of blood slowly fall from his hand, into the pile. His lips moved, softly chanting the spell he had found on the internet, dark eyes glaring at the ritual.

The chant escaped his mouth five more times before he stopped, resting their silently for a moment. Waiting for.. anything, really. A signal, a sign the ritual had worked. That his desperation wasn’t all for not..

That he hadn’t cut his palm for some odd fantasy.

Unfortunately, nothing happened. Nothing, except for the sting of his hand and the one of his dignity. He was such an idiot— taking Gojo’s word at face value instead of as a joke.

Takuma Ino, felt pathetic.

Silently, he pulled his hand back, ignoring the sting of it as he began to collected the dirtied petals. He moved to blow out the candles next, collecting them as well to throw away. Once that was completely he exited his bedroom to his bathroom, coming back with a wet rag shortly after to rub away the pentagram.

Still silent, still completely mad at himself.

That was about five hours ago, Takuma deciding to push the event to the back of his mind and sleep. He couldn’t dwell over his stupidity for too long, he had work in the morning.

Curled up under his blankets, the man slept soundly, face pressed into his pillow. The room was quiet, atmosphere soft, his legs, heavy… heavy. Why were his legs so heavy? The half-asleep man turned, pulling his blankets a bit, thinking it was simply that.

But, no. Ino quickly realized it wasn’t that. Sleep was slowly drifting away, annoyance traveling into his body. Did he accidentally place something on his bed? Did something fall? Such question entered his mind, blinking away sleep as he turned— shutting his bedside lamp on.

Takuma Ino blinked slowly, eyes peering down at.. something, someone. A woman. She was, pretty. Cloaked in warm mocha skin, a form figure will full hips and curves; pudge pushed against the blankets underneath her. Her hair was neat, styled in long braids that rested in curly ends just below her ass.

And from what Takuma could see, she was completely bare.

“Wh—what..” The man stuttered under his breath, slowly pulling his legs from under her body, backing to the headboard of his bed. Biting the inside of his cheek, he reached over, planting a hand onto her shoulder. “Hey.. uh— miss?” He spoke, watching her stir just a bit. To his horror she turned from laying on her stomach, Ino quickly tossing his blanket in her direction. “Miss— its time to wake up!” Ino spoke again, voice holding much more urgency then it did before.

You slowly stirred from your sleep, blinking and yawning softly. You tilted your head to spot Ino already staring at you, a look of shock and nervousness painting his features. You only smiled, turning once again to rise up on your hands. “Hi..”

Ino gulped the moment your voice hit his ears, range a sickeningly sweet tone, soft; traveling into his mind so easily. He bit his cheek, clenching his pants in his hands. “How did you..get in here? Are you lost?”

You blinked at him for a moment, coming to sit comfortably on the bed, nearly smiling at the way he refused to look at you. Or rather, your body. “I’m not lost.. you summoned me here, right?”

As the words left your mouth, his breath hitched; eyes widening in shock. The ritual, actually worked? He had really summoned one, a succubus? There was no way, this had to be a prank.

“You look human.”

“I look how you want me to look..” You spoke softly, leaning back, sliding your hands down your body. “Or rather, your type.” You grinned, watching a warm red spread across his cheeks. You leaned, crawling up to him until you were far too close for comfort; watching as he sunk into the headboard to gain some space. “But, would you like me to change? Is there something else you wish to see?”

Ino breathed heavily, eyes finally falling from your face and to your body; trained on your soft plump breasts, your thighs, your hips.. everything was just so, perfect. Change? Such a thought would never pass his mind.

His trance was interrupted the moment a pretty giggle escaped you, his entire body stilling the moment your hand rested upon his lower stomach. You pushed up until your mouth was against his ear, speaking lowly;

“Looks like your body answer the question for you..” He hissed softly as your hand breached his black tshirt, gliding your fingers along his vline. You were so close, yet so far from he really wanted you to touch him; his head leaning back as you continued to rub gentle circles into his skin.

“Please..”

“Hm?” You feigned innocence, pulling back to glance at his face. His eyebrows were pinched a little close, eyes closed as he gently bit his lips. The sight was very pretty, you had to admit. “You want me to touch you more?”

“Yes—“ Ino spoke far too quickly, raising his head to look at you. His cheeks were flushed with red, embarrassed out of his mind— but he didn’t care. Not one bit. “Please.. please touch me more.”

Your glossed lips curled into a small smile, leaning over so you two were only a breath’s away. “You’re so cute, Ino.” You spoke softly, closing the gap to capture his lips. Slowly, you two enjoyed the other’s mouth, pressing your body against his own. You felt his hand twitched with uncertainty, slowly lifting to gently grasp your waist. You smiled against his lips, gently biting them in response. The moment a soft gasp escaped him, your tongue intruded his mouth, while your hand.. reached into his pants.

His fingers gripped your bare skin as your own traced his shaft, feeling him slowly harden under your touch. You wrapped your hand around his cock, slowly pulling him out of his pants and boxers. The man groaned softly as your thumb traced his tip, feeling precum slowly drip from the slit. You pulled back, cooing at the sight of his strained face. How cute..

You leaned over, lips pressed against his neck as you began to drag your hand up and down his shaft, slowly, watching him twitch with each glide across his sensitive tip. You sucked a kiss into his skin, switching around to kiss against his throat; relishing at the gulp you felt under your lips. Your hand quickened around his cock; focusing around his tip, grinning at the way his hips rose up into your hand.

“So cute..” You murmured to yourself, watching him carefully. He felt so sensitive from your touch, gasping out; soft groans escaping him every so often. The hand on your hip was bruising by now, fingertips digging into your skin, holding on for leverage. He’s never felt anything like this; your hand completely differently from his own. You played like him as if you knew his own body more than he did, grazing across secret places he’s never known about.

“O—oh, fuck..”

“You’re close, handsome?” You questioned softly, eyelids lowered as you hand got even faster. The man was bucking up into your hand at this point, fucking it, chasing his release. One he reached easily, lips parted as a husky, prolonged moan escaped his throat. You hummed softly as his warm release coated your fingers, glancing down as your hand slowly came to a stop. You tilted your head with a little simper, traveling down the bed. “You made a mess of yourself, Ino.”

Your voice brought him down from his high, blinking tiredly over at you. To his horror, you were leaning down towards his cock; the man gasping the moment your lips brushed his tip. “F—fuck..” He whined softly, gripping the blanket under him, a stuttered groan escaping him as your tongue traveled up his shaft, collecting his cum. “‘M too sensitive, please—“

Ino’s own pornographic groan interrupted his words the moment you took him into his mouth, eyes rolling back at your warm cavern. He could only lay there, overstimulated whines escaping him as you took him deeper into your mouth, tongue gliding across his cock; allowing his tip to hit the back of your throat.

You bobbed up and down his length, eyes closed and focused on your breath. Your hands resting on his thighs, feeling the muscles shake and clench with each movement of your head. It didn’t take long for the poor man to come again, his voice much louder than before; painting your mouth and throat white. Your moaned around his cock, slowly sucking him dry, feeling his hand press against your shoulder— gasping from the sensitivity. You pulled back slowly, swallowing the rest of his release, eyes peering over at him.

You warmed as his hand traveled to your face, feeling his thumb gently wipe away your mouth. You leaned into his palm, “Did that feel good, Ino?” You questioned sweetly, watching the man nod rather quickly; still breathless. You gently kissed his palm — right above his wound —, slowly traveling up his body, settling on his torso. His hands found your ass, gently caressing the warm skin— clenching when you pressed against his chest lightly.

“You want more, don’t you?” You spoke softly, leaning closely. Your noses brushed, moving in as if to kiss him, only to back away the moment you saw his eyes fluttered. His hand clenched your ass, a small chuckle exiting you as a result. “Use your words..”

Ino breathed sure his cheeks and ears were terribly red. He never imagined his first time would go like this, but, he wasn’t complaining. He glanced into your eyes, “Please.. I—I want to feel you.” He spoke, watching as you moaned softly at his words. He felt accomplished the moment you rose your body, scooting down a bit to hover above his crotch.

Your hand collected his cock, breathing slowly as you lined it up with your entrance. Pressing your knees into the bed, you slowly lowered yourself on his length; feeling his hands grasp your thighs the moment they began to shake. You moaned as he stretched you, velvety walls clenching the deeper he went. Soon, you settled into his lap, pressing your hands against his stomach to still yourself.

“Ar—are you okay?” You glanced up to spot the tinge of worry in his eyes, your cheeks warming at this. You leaned over, kissing his chin.

“Of course.”

Digging your knees into his soft blankets, you rose yourself up until only his tip remained inside— dropping down in one swift motion. The action caused the both of you to moan, his hands clenching your skin; resting his head on his pillows. You hands pressed against his stomach, fucking yourself on his cock; pretty moans escaping your swollen lips.

Ino was holding you so tightly at this point, allowing you to do anything you wanted; trapped under the pleasure you were giving him. Your plush walls clenching him, your hot skin pressed against his own— it was all so much, but he loved every piece. Hazy eyes slowly focused on you, watching work yourself up and down his length, how erotic your expression was.

“Look.. fuck— You’re so pretty.” Ino gasped out, hands traveling to your waist, slowly meeting your thrusts. His hips circled, watching you clench his shirt, pretty babbles of his name escaping you. He wanted to see more of it, needed to. You were far too much, yet he craved it.

A surprised whine escaped you the moment he began to fuck up into you, his feet flat on his bed, holding you tightly on his cock so you could do nothing but take it. The sound of skin on skin contact entered the room, your jumbled noises of pleasure surrounding the space too. Your bodies moved against each other, desperate for release— for the other’s as well.

Repeated fucks escaped you, leaning over to wrap your arms around his neck as he rose his hips more; reaching even deeper inside your messy cunt. You held onto him tightly, eyes pinched close as your nails dug into his covered skin. “F—fuck, so close, so close— Ino!”

His breathing was ragged, face stuffed into your neck as he felt his hips began to stutter. “Me.. me too, fuck— can i come inside? Wanna.. fill you up, oh fuck!” Ino’s voice came out in harsh whimpers, thrusts turning desperate, slamming into you as his mind grew cloudy. In the midst he heard your soft pleas for his cum, your pretty whines enough for him— pushing him over the edge. Spilling into your, fucking his seed into you; stuffing you full.

You gasped, eyes rolling back as you came as well; wet walls clenching, milking him of all he’s worth. The two of you panted heavily, his hips slowly falling to the bed as his arms wrapped around your middle. Your fingers curled into his hair, eyes closed as you simply laid on him.

“… Are you leaving now?” His tone was soft, voice scratchy from its previous abuse. You smiled at his words, shaking your head. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

To your surprise his arms wrapped tighter around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

“Good.”

[suengmi]

- the ways stray kids show their love and affection

genre: fluff/romance, nonidol!au, gn!reader warnings: mentions of making out, nakedness? idk lol

anyways this is just major soft hours, one of my moots said i should do this i can't remember who it was pls lmk if it was you asljdls also unedited

♡ masterlist / pls reblog if you liked! it helps a lot ♡

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ bang chan

sweet kisses all over your face to wake you up, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck and gently nibbling you. “i’m bored wake up babe.” grunts when you ignore him. ends up pulling the sheets back so your naked body is exposed to the cold. “that’s what you get.” gets salty but then feels bad, covering you up again, then he really wakes you up. back hugs when you’re cooking for him. whining whenever you don’t pay attention to him, tugging at the edge of your shirt. sulks when you say you’re busy. doesn’t give a fuck about how clingy he is, but he knows you love it. holds your hand a little too hard when you’re walking together. kiss attacks always!!

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ lee know

stops you from crossing the street until he’s checked it. “stupid, look next time.” beats you twice in a board game but sees that you're sad that you’re not that good at it, but fails the third time just to see you smile and gloat about beating him. he loves seeing you happy, even if he has to purposely fail. leaves you notes everywhere, maybe just ‘i love yous’ mixed in with ‘i know you’ll forget this so don’t.’ text messages asking if you’ve eaten, and then getting mad and sending food to your door if you haven’t. swiftly kisses to the forehead aggressively saying you ‘deserve it’ but sounds like a threat. ‘you know i love you yeah?’ more aggressive kisses. ‘i won’t stop until you say you love me!!’

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ changbin

little wrestling matches on the couch, telling you that you’re silly for even trying. pulls you by the back of your hair if you’re not paying attention to him. “i left you the last piece of food.” always, always saves you the last piece no matter what it is. picks you up and throws you around, pretending he’s going to eat you bc apparently he’s a monster. but says you taste good so he doesn’t mind eating you. more wrestles. whenever you’re sad, he always cheers you up and never fails to make you laugh. does his trot impression of some old korean songs, full performance with your glitter jacket on that doesn’t fit him. ‘you still love me now? you better.’ knows you love being engulfed by him, so 90% of the time he is the big spoon. when he's feeling really romantic, he'll do a little picnic at the beach. always making sure it was at sunset because he knew it was your favourite time of the day.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ jisung

midnight trips to get take out, sitting in the car until 2am with both of your feet on the dashboard. ‘remember that time!’ always reminiscing about how you first met, nearly choking on your fries when you recall. kisses in the car, kisses in the house, kisses in the shower, kisses in the dark. ‘babe but i want it.’ chucks a tanty when you don’t buy him things. pouts and folds his arms. ‘if you loved me you would!’ holds the cuff of your jumper, mostly walking behind you whenever you go somewhere because he feels safe. morning calls, but especially night calls. he doesn’t care how you look at the end of the day, he just wants to see you and tell you he loves you. hiding himself in your jumper and saying there is enough room for two (when there isn't.)

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ hyunjin

taking you to art galleries, standing behind you with his head resting on yours. ends up putting his hands into your pockets from behind, cutely leading you around from the back. with hyunjin it’s not always words, sometimes it’s just his actions. he pushes your hair out of your face or tucks it behind your hair. mostly, he does your hair for you. always making sure your hair was out of your face because it annoyed you. brings you tea and sits with you if you’re studying or drawing or even watching tv, rubs your thigh gently to let you know that he doesn’t want to distract you, just shows you he wants to be with you. rubs your belly if you feel bloated and talks to it. 'you better stop being bloated or... i'll do something. idk what.' art dates!! always drawing together, even if you're shit he encourages you to keep going

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ seungmin

gently slips his fingers into yours without saying anything but smiling to himself when he sees you blush, he kind of loves that he makes you nervous. always taking the chance to make your cheeks tint pink. showers with seungmin, always washing your body and shampooing your hair for you, wet kisses in between. sometimes he’d gently press his nose on your naked skin, enjoying your scent but never admitting it. ‘it’s comforting’ he’d say in defence, ignoring you for the rest of the night. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, making sure you were safe no matter where you were. kisses to the forehead, the back of the hand, the back of your knees. seungmin doesn’t say it much, but he does love you. he shows it through everything else, knowing those words have such a weight to them.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ felix

‘are you gonna cook!?’ jumping up and down when you say yes, annoying you the whole time you’re cooking or baking. ‘is it done? i can’t wait to eat it!!’ eats half of the food before it’s even cooked because he says it’s ‘too good.’ little play fights that would begin from felix nibbling at your fingers and then at your thighs. ‘little gremlin’ you’d end up joking, rolling around on the floor, bodies all over each other, which would end in a heated make out session and clothes far gone. he’d send you random texts, of random things. ‘hey i saw this flower, it's cute, yeah?’ ‘this potato looks like you. it’s too cute to eat T-T’ ‘you think i could eat 11 hot dogs in two minutes? hmm maybe.’ 

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ jeongin

blowing raspberries on your tummy and holding you down. sometimes uses your foot as a telephone. ‘yes hello stinky foot line how can i stink you today?’ proceeds to try and hold your foot with his. 'shut up i can do it!!' probably be super sarcastic, mocking you when you tried to be cute with whatever you were saying. karaoke together, always singing out of pitch but though he’s laughing, encourages you to be more confident because he loves seeing you enjoy yourself. watches you sometimes, just admiring you but instantly whips his head around to pretend he wasn’t, head banging into something hanging from the wall. ‘mind your business’ he’d joke, walking away suspiciously.

♡ taglist: @blankdyean @l3visbby @daddyjoonchua @ipegchangbin @abcdefgiwsmcty ♡

[wonniesdoll]

locked up - yjw

MDNI 18+ ONLY! this is SMUT.

- this is my first time ever writing smut, so feedback is totally appreciated but pls be kind and lmk what you think :)

- english is not my first language! do lmk if you see any spelling mistakes hihi.

-

warnings: female reader, throat fucking(f!receiving), chastity belt(f!receiving), anal play(f!receiving) reader can be picked up and carried, hair can be grabbed, "you" pov, vaginal pleasure denial? is there a word for this idk!! degrading word! (slut) used on reader, jungwon is readers bf and they are kinky! reader is desperate but super into what's going on

umm.. this is my first smut so lmk what else i should add here since idrk how tumblr etiquette works but lmk if i did anything wrong pls!

also how do you make text a different color without having it be underlined pls help me a girl is struggling! also sorry the layout is ugly i was struggling with all the editing omg but happy reading! if anyone has tips or anything for me or wants to be friends even plsplsplps slide into my dms I'm so nice!!!

it starts here!

an irritated whine rips out of your throat as your boyfriend, jungwon, puts the stupid, stupid chastity belt on you. the one he's been threatening to put on you as a punishment since.. well, for a long time. but today is when you managed to make him snap.

finally.

the action of him going through with putting you in the chastity belt proves to frustrate you even more, the cage encasing your throbbing pussy into an evil metal cage.

specifically designed to deny you pleasure.

"shut up, brat." he angrily mutters, his hands working harshly to secure the belt as you squirm on the bed.

"I'll be good from now on, i swear!!" another whine of protest slips out, and you immediately draw back seeing the way Jungwon's eyes narrow at you when he hears your voice once more.

"I told you earlier, baby. sluts like you don't deserve pleasure. pleasure is for good girls." he says, fastening the belt for the last time and securing the it with a small padlock before pulling back slightly to admire his handiwork, key in hand.

you're prettily sprawled out and squirming underneath him, naked, just how he likes it. your soft skin is glowing underneath the faint streams of evening sunlight filtering through the curtains and onto your desperate, pathetically adorable body.

"I'm sorry for touching myself without your permission, but isn't this a bit too harsh? a chastity belt, really?" you complain diligently, still wanting to stay on his good side for the sake of your throbbing pussy.

Jungwon simply grins in response, his dimples making an appearance and melting your heart despite your uncontrollable horniness as the chastity belt restricts you.

"i told you, no cumming for a week. how am i supposed to know you won't try to get that desperate pussy off while I'm away, hm?"

his catlike eyes glance down at the chastity belt, a metal one he had ordered to be perfectly fit for your pretty body. he smirks again before stuffing the key into his pocket and shuffling a bit further away to admire you even more.

"i won't! please just take it off, Wonnie.." you whimper, begging softly, wanting nothing more than to jump on top of him and ride his thick, hard dick until you both pass out.

"if you had been a good girl, this wouldn't have happened, you brat." he grins as he comes closer to your figure on the bed, languidly sliding his hand down the chastity belt, right where he knows your slit is dripping and quivering.

so wet. so ready for him. so naughty.

you watch him with dilated pupils. dirty, vile thoughts running through your pretty little head as he continues his teasing ministrations.

your breath hitches when his hand suddenly slips lower, tracing along the metal ring that presents your other hole to him. the forbidden one.

that's right. not only does Jungwon's punishment include denying you of your own pleasure for a week, it also includes him taking you anally, since he sure as hell isn't going to suffer through a week of no sex because of your bratty behavior.

"do you remember the rules i explained earlier, baby?" your boyfriend asks, his pretty fingers circling around your puckered hole as he watches your facial expressions carefully.

he loves you after all, and he wants to make sure you're not uncomfortable throughout this entire encounter.

"yes i do. you're not touching my pussy for a week, nor am i allowed to. you'll satisfy yourself by using my ass or my mouth." you obediently repeat the rules back to him, eyes lighting up at the smile on his face at the sight of you being so good.

"that's a good girl." he praises you, his finger dragging some of the slick on your inner thigh before lazily falling back to your asshole, which he begins teasing with that very same finger.

you jolt in surprise, trying your best to relax as you sink into the pillows, a faint whimper escaping you at the feeling of his fingertip stretching your ass out slightly as it begins tipping into you. the heels of your feet dig into the mattress slightly as you focus on the delicious feeling.

your eyes land on the bulge that can easily be seen in his sweatpants. he's been achingly hard ever since he got home, expecting to see his sweet, cute girlfriend readily waiting at the door to be able to greet him with a kiss and a hug like usually.

yet, all he was met with when he tiredly walked in after a long day of recording and practice, was a dark house along with faint moans coming from your shared bedroom.

upon further inspection, Jungwon had found you, wearing only one of his shirts. the fabric of the white cotton was draping onto your thighs as you rode a pillow. his pillow. there was a blissful look on your face as you chased your high with closed eyes and an open mouth, sweet little moans slipping from your lips as you called out for your boyfriend while having absolutely no idea that he was watching you from the doorway.

that's how you ended up in this predicament in the first place, now having little to no say in what would be done to you during the oncoming week. and you couldn't be more turned on at the thought.

the thought of Jungwon using you for his pleasure while simultaneously denying all of your needs made your pussy unbelievably wet, little droplets of your essence already leaking through the slit of the chastity belt, staining the silver metal in your juices.

you opened your legs a bit wider for him to get a good look at the sight of his finger sliding in and out of your exposed asshole, the metal ring almost serving as a guide for where exactly to train your eyes to have the best view.

"f-fuck.." you bite back a moan. anal had always been something you'd been into, and it's only recently that you brought it up with Jungwon, who was more than happy to help you indulge in your desires.

"language." you jolt when your boyfriend slaps your inner thigh sternly, yet softly. his tone isn't angry, it's a warning.

"sorry, wonnie.." you smile sheepishly as he continues to gently stretch your asshole with his fingers.

one finger, then two, then three. at this point you're a blubbering mess. uncontrollably moaning as your chest rises and falls rapidly while he fingers your asshole with a smirk on his face. "wonnie please.." you beg softly, your sweet eyes pleading with him.

"not a chance, baby." the man simply grins at you before reaching over and grabbing an adorable buttplug off the bedside table. it's metal, it has a base with a pink, heart shaped jewel that perfectly matches some of the other cute pink pieces of lingerie Jungwon buys you all the time.

he coats it in a layer of your slick that's leaked out of the slit in the chastity belt before carefully slipping it into your tight asshole, presumably to keep you nice and stretched for when he wants to use you there, which you absolutely couldn't wait for.

"please, not even anal? you really won't even fuck my ass? i need it wonnie.. please." you beg softly, wanting nothing more than to have your boyfriend's pretty cock sliding in and out of you while you moan into his mouth.

"no. you don't deserve to be touched by me right now, you've been bad." Jungwon huffs in response, making sure the buttplug is fit snugly inside of your tight little ass. his hand comes down to leave a smack on the skin of your plush ass, grabbing a handful and spreading your cheeks to get a good look at the buttplug inside you and the metal ring which would allow him to use your ass at all times if he so wished to.

his eyes then moved upwards, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he trains his gaze onto the metal slab encasing your pussy. your tight, sweet wetness. he lets out a small, audible groan at the sight of the amount of essence dripping out of the slit in the middle of the chastity belt, imagining how good your tight pussy would feel right now, skilfully gripping his aching cock as you whimpered his name.

he shakes away the thoughts, wanting to stay strong and true to the discipline he has planned for you, finally allowing his eyes to peer even higher and to look at your desperate, adorable face.

your pupils are completely dilated, your beautiful tits moving up and down with the deep breaths you take as you look deep into his eyes with the most desperate expression he's ever seen on you.

"please?" you plead innocently.

fuck.

fuck.

Jungwon could smack himself in the face in frustration, his cock twitching at the sound of your sweet voice, sounding so pathetic. so pretty. so perfect. He wanted nothing more than to rip that chastity belt off you and to bury himself deep inside your wonderful pussy for all eternity.

but he didn't. he wouldn't.

"No. Now stop whining and get on your knees." his hands move to the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down along with his boxers as you rush to kneel in front of him.

Jungwon smirks down at you as he pulls his hard cock out of his sweats, eyes trained on your desperate face.

your own eyes are locked on Jungwon's hard cock. the shape of his mushroom tip, each vein, each barely noticable ridge completely engraved in your mind.

you were a slut for cock. you were an absolute whore for your boyfriend's cock, though.

The man in question stands tall in front of you, grabbing the base of his cock and hissing softly as he strokes himself a few times, his free hand reaching towards your hair to grip it, gently pulling your face closer to the twitching muscle as you breathe out in contentment.

"suck." he commands, slapping his achingly hard cock onto your cheek twice.

you don't have to be told again, opening your mouth and swirling your tongue around his pink tip, savoring the taste of the precum that's been dribbling out since he got home.

a small moan escapes you just as Jungwon groans in satisfaction, leaning back against the wall as he watches you slowly work your way down his cock.

you look up into his eyes, making eye contact as you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head.

the sight above you belongs in a magazine, or on the wall of a museum, maybe it even deserves to be displayed on one of gigantic building's screens in time square.

jungwon is looking down at you, the same intensity in his eyes that's undoubtedly being mirrored back to him as you suck him off how he likes it. his lips are parted as he groans, waiting for the perfect moment..

it's when you finally ease his cock into your willing, tight throat that jungwon knows it's okay for him to retake control. so he does.

you moan softly around his cock as both hands trail down, gripping your hair tightly, yet gently.

"tap my thigh twice if you want me to stop, yeah?" he whispers, stroking your hair affectionately before his expression hardens and he stands up a bit straighter.

you can barely nod due to his tight grip, but you both understand it. you're ready.

with that, he takes control. his hands are swiftly tangled into your hair as he thrusts forward slowly, burying his length deep into your throat and letting out what's possibly the sluttiest moan you've ever heard from a man.

you're no different, trying to trail your hand down to rub your clit before the realization sets in. you're locked. caged up. your poor clit and hole completely off limits.

you're not sure if you tear up because of the thought that you can't get off, or because of the fact that the tip of Jungwon's cock keeps slamming against the back of your throat, but you quickly focus on relaxing your throat once more, trying not to choke too much as your boyfriend fucks your face, smirking when he sees you remember the chastity belt.

"aw, my poor little slut." he grins devilishly, driving his throbbing cock in and out of your throat. "can't even get off without me, hm?" he smirks at the way you look right now.

there's an almost dollike expression on your face. to him at least. your pupils are completely dilated as you try to keep eye contact with him, there's a bunch of drool running down the corner of your mouth, and dripping down your face and onto your pretty tits, the mixture of your saliva, tears, and his precum making him twitch in your throat.

Mmm," he hums, his hips undulating in a rhythm that matches his moans. His left hand lets go of your hair, now trailing down, he gropes your breast, squeezing and pinching one of your sensitive, hardened nipples. his thrusts don't slow down at all as he lazily plays with your tits while fucking your throat.

"fuck. I'm close." jungwon warns, his hips not stilling at all as he pistons in and out of your willing mouth. you're all too turned on right now, and he can tell by the way your arousal is leaking from the slit in the chastity belt and onto the floor while you choke on his cock.

the mere thought of you being so turned on yet so helpless makes his vision go white as his orgasm washes over him. his hips twitch uncontrollably as he shoots his load deep into your throat. his hands are now both gripping your head tightly as he keeps you right where he wants- no. where he needs you as he fills your throat with his pearly cum while moaning out.

he groans out, his hips jerking violently as he empties his cum down your throat. "Swallow." he commands, his grip tightening in your hair.

and you? you couldn't be happier. your own eyes roll back as you feel his cum invade your body. the way he's holding you down so tightly, his cock absolutely enveloped by your throat as he cums down it. you obediently swallow around him, the feeling of your throat convulsing around his length making him let out another deep groan.

your nose is buried into his neatly trimmed pubic hair as he holds you there for a few more seconds. he then pumps in and out of your mouth twice to ride out his high before finally pulling out, allowing you to catch your breath.

you pant, looking up at him with teary eyes and a messy face. "i swallowed.." you inform him in a timid tone, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

"I know," he smirks, his hand moving to stroke your cheek gently while you open your mouth to show him you really did swallow all the cum he spilled inside. "such a good girl."

you look up at him pleadingly, whimpering softly. "please, wonnie.. it's not enough!" you complain once more, tugging on the stupid chastity belt in frustration.

Jungwon giggles softly, taking his pants and boxers off completely before leaning down to pick you up and take you into his arms, carrying you to the bed with ease.

you relax as he lays you down on the bed on your back, taking another good luck at your pretty little plugged up asshole, the ring around it making it even prettier.

he's always liked jewelry on you, after all.

his hand trails down and he strokes his throbbing cock once more, cursing softly when he realizes he's still achingly hard for you.

you whimper once more, spreading your legs a bit more and pulling them up to your chest, showing off my caged pussy and the jewel on the hilt of the buttplug.

"wonnie please.. just want your cock in me. I'll be a good girl, i swear. please?" you beg pathetically, tears now dripping down your sweet face due to the sheer frustration you felt at your needy pussy being so neglected. he wouldn't even touch your ass?

Jungwon simply smirks, cooing at you before leaning over you to kiss you passionately, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue as his hands trail down your body, resting on your tits as your legs wrap around his waist.

the tip of his cock leaks precum all over your caged pussy, the metal now coated in small spurts and smears of the pearly essence.

he kisses you a bit more, tongue exploring your mouth as one of his hands slide from groping your pretty tits to your hips before finding its way between your legs to gently tug the buttplug out.

you draw in a sharp breath at the intensity of his actions, a shiver running down your spine as he leans down to whisper in your ear as you feel the buttplug gently being pulled out of you.

"are you ready for me, baby..?"

2024 © wonniesdoll on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  

-

*screams internally* if u read to here idk i just planted a fat kiss on ur forehead mwah ily and I'm making an introduction post soon SO STAY TUNEDDDD

[jzprncess]

love language by sza

"talk to me in your love language"

pairing: Max Verstappen x Y/N reader

part 2/2 previous part

word count : 4,065

summary : After being apart for what felt like an eternity and discovering his girlfriend's newfound knowledge of Dutch, he couldn't contain his excitement. He expressed his appreciation in a multitude of heartfelt but also sensual ways.

warnings : just basic love making

note : not gonna lie, i had trouble writing this one but thank the world i finish this!! thanks for everyone for tuning in on my first completed series? idk what this is.

❛ ━━･♡❪ ❁ ❫♡･━━ ❜

 As they lingered in the warmth of each other's gaze, the world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them suspended in this moment. The soft glow of the kitchen light illuminated their faces, casting gentle shadows that danced around them.

The tantalizing aroma of freshly baked apple pie hung in the air like a sweet promise of what was to come, its spicy notes weaving through the atmosphere and stirring their senses. Y/N felt her heart race as she watched the flicker of something deep and genuine in Max's eyes—something that ignited a spark within her, a yearning that had been building during their time apart.

Max took a step closer, brushing his fingers along her arms, trailing them down to her waist, where they rested possessively. The warmth of his touch sent shivers racing across her skin, igniting a warmth that spread from her core outward. He leaned in again, his breath a whisper against her lips as he murmured, "Say that again."

"Ik hou van jou," she repeated softly, her voice low and sultry, filled with the weight of her feelings. The way his eyes sparkled with delight made her pulse quicken, each heartbeat echoing the intensity of the moment. He chuckled, his lips curving into a grin that made her heart swell, an infectious joy radiating from him.

"Your Dutch is getting better, but your kisses are still the best," he teased, leaning in closer again, their lips almost touching, the anticipation palpable between them.

"Maybe I should keep practicing," she replied, her voice playful as she leaned into him, their bodies swaying slightly together like leaves in a gentle breeze, the world around them dimming in significance.

With a knowing smile, he closed the gap, capturing her lips with his once more, this time with more urgency. The kiss was a sweet melding of warmth and longing, a dance that spoke of the days apart and the hunger for connection. He pulled her in closer, deepening the kiss, his hands exploring the curve of her back, drawing her against him as if they were two pieces that fit perfectly together, a puzzle complete only in each other's presence.

The kitchen faded away, and all that mattered was the heat between them. She lost herself in the moment, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer still, as their kisses grew more fervent, more desperate, each touch a whisper of unspoken words filled with longing and desire.

"Y/N," he breathed against her lips, his voice thick with emotion, "I've missed you so much." His forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling in the space between, creating a shared warmth that enveloped them. “It’s agonizing to be apart from you,” he groaned, his voice laced with genuine pain. “The races are unbearable without you by my side.” Each word was laced with sincerity, the vulnerability in his tone making her heart ache with affection.

"I'm here now," she whispered, a soft smile breaking through her breathlessness. "And I'm not going anywhere." With a sudden burst of courage, she brushed her lips against his again, this time more insistently, pouring every ounce of emotion she felt into the kiss. He responded with an intensity that sent her heart racing, their bodies pressing together until there was no space left between them, every inch of their skin igniting with a shared fire.

In that moment, the world outside faded completely—no racing, no pressures, just them. Max's hands slid down to her hips, urging her closer still as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his pent-up affection into every lingering touch, their hearts beating in rhythm with one another.

As they pulled apart, the air crackled with an electric charge, and Y/N gazed up at him, her heart still pounding wildly. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the way he looked at her—so intensely, so completely—made her heart flutter.

"I wanted to surprise you with the pie," she said breathlessly, trying to regain her composure, her cheeks flushed with warmth, but the playful sparkle in his eyes told her he was not so easily distracted.

"Why not surprise me with something even sweeter?" he replied, his tone a low, teasing growl that sent delicious shivers down her spine as he lowered his lips to her ear, kissing the sensitive spot just below it, making her gasp. "Something like this," he continued, his voice thick with desire, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

Max's presence enveloped Y/N like a warm embrace, his intentions clear as he led her into the living room. The soft, ambient light filled the space with a cozy glow, creating an atmosphere that felt both intimate and charged with unspoken possibilities. Every step felt like a promise, and as they crossed the threshold into the intimate space, the anticipation hung thick in the air, a sweet tension vibrating between them, as if the very walls were witnesses to their longing.

As they stepped into the living room, the warm light enveloped them like a soft embrace. Max's hand found Y/N's, fingers intertwining effortlessly as they walked deeper into the space. The couch beckoned, plush and inviting, but Max had other intentions. His eyes, dark with longing, flickered toward the hallway that led to their bedroom, a slow smile creeping across his lips.

“Let’s take our time,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down her spine. He pulled her closer, his hands resting gently on her hips. Instead of guiding her to sit down, he leaned into her ear, his breath warm as he whispered, "Come with me."

With her heart racing, Y/N followed his lead as Max’s fingers gently tugged at her hand, steering her down the dimly lit corridor. The familiar path to their bedroom felt different tonight, every step echoing with the promise of the intimacy they craved.

The tender glow from the living room dissipated as they ventured into the sanctuary of their bedroom, the atmosphere heavy with longing and expectation. Max's eyes smoldered with a yearning that mirrored her own as he delicately closed the door, encapsulating them in a world meant only for two. "I've missed this," he murmured, his voice rough with sentiment, each syllable dripping with unspoken promises.

Y/N could feel the cool edge of the bed grazing the back of her knees, causing a shiver to run up her spine. A gentle exhale escaped her lips as Max's hands, warm and inviting, traced the contours of her body. His touch was like a match, igniting a flame within her that had been dormant for far too long. The world outside their intimate haven faded away. 

"Let’s make it count," Max purred, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down her spine. He pulled her into him with a tender strength, their bodies melding together as if two pieces of a puzzle finally reunited. Their lips met in a kiss that was slow, deep, and full of longing. The kiss spoke volumes, erasing the last vestiges of space between them, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.

As they pulled away for breath, Max rested his forehead against hers, his thumb brushing her cheek. "I missed you," he murmured, his voice raw with honesty. "Every day, every night... I missed the way you feel, the way you taste."

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. "I missed you too," she whispered, her voice barely audible but loaded with meaning. "I thought about this moment… about us, together, more than you know."

Max’s eyes darkened with desire as he brought his lips to hers again, this time with even more intensity. His hands roamed, exploring the familiar terrain of her body as if it were the first time, each touch a reverent caress. She could feel the heat radiating from him, engulfing her in a warmth that was both comforting and exciting. Her own hands began their own journey, reacquainting themselves with the lines and planes of his body.

“God, Y/N,” he groaned softly as she ran her fingers over his chest, “you drive me insane. I can’t get enough of you.”

“You don’t have to,” she replied breathlessly, her lips grazing his neck. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes met hers, filled with an emotion that made her heart stutter. "Good," he whispered. "Because I don’t ever want to be without you again."

The kiss deepened, their tongues dancing in a sensual tango that left them both breathless. The room seemed to grow warmer, the air charged with an electricity that was palpable. Slowly, ever so slowly, they sank onto the bed, their bodies intertwined in a lovers' embrace. The soft, downy comforter embraced them like a cloud, a fitting backdrop for their reunion.

As they shed their clothes, each piece of fabric slipping away like petals of a flower, Max paused, his gaze lingering on her. "You’re so beautiful," he whispered reverently, his fingers brushing over her bare skin. "I don’t tell you that enough."

Y/N blushed under his intense gaze, her heart swelling at his words. "You do," she murmured, "but I never get tired of hearing it."

Max smiled, a tender expression that contrasted with the raw desire in his eyes. "I love you," he said softly, the sincerity in his voice making her chest tighten. "I love everything about you."

Her breathe caught in her throat, as he brought his lips back to hers in a kiss filled with tenderness. "I love you too, Max," she whispered against his mouth. "So much."

His smile widened against her lips as he kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the moment. As their bodies entwined, Max's lips began a leisurely journey down Y/N’s body, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made her skin rise with goosebumps. His hands followed, caressing her with a gentle reverence that made her feel cherished, adored.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with passion. “I don’t know how I survived these weeks without you.”

Y/N gasped softly, her heart pounding in her chest as his mouth worked its magic. “You’re here now,” she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair. “And that’s all that matters.”

Max chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her skin. "You're right. Let's make up for lost time."

As he continued his intimate exploration of her body, his hands gentle but firm, Y/N’s breath quickened. She bit her lip, trying to suppress a moan as his lips lingered at her hips before moving lower. When he finally reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, his breath warm against her most sensitive spot.

“Max…” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, filled with need.

He lifted his head, meeting her gaze, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

Her heart raced at the raw intensity in his voice. “I want you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “I want to feel all of you…please.”

Max’s gaze softened for a moment, his thumb brushing lightly against her inner thigh. "Then I’ll give you everything," he replied, his voice low and full of promise. "All of me, every part that’s been missing you."

He kissed her there, slow and deliberate, savoring the way her body reacted to his touch. Y/N’s back arched, her hands gripping the sheets as she gasped at the sensation. "Max…" she whimpered, her voice a mix of plea and pleasure.

“I love how you say my name,” he murmured between kisses, his lips tracing delicate patterns across her skin. “Say it again.”

“Max,” she breathed, her body trembling under the weight of his affection, her desire coiling tighter with every passing second. “Please…”

“Please what?” he teased, his tone playful but his movements slow and deliberate. “Tell me exactly what you need.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she looked down at him, her eyes locked on his. “I need you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with raw desire. “I need you inside me, Max… right now.”

Her words ignited something primal in him, and Max’s playful expression shifted to one of fierce intensity. "You don’t have to wait any longer," he murmured, his voice rough with longing. He moved up her body, their skin brushing together as he positioned himself above her.

Their eyes met once again, and in that quiet moment, the air between them seemed to hum with electricity. Max gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “I need you just as much.”

Slowly, with a deliberate tenderness, he pushed into her, filling her completely. Y/N gasped, her body arching as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. The feeling of him inside her, of their bodies joined, was overwhelming in the best possible way.

“Oh, Max…” she breathed, her voice filled with emotion and desire. The connection between them went beyond the physical—this was the culmination of all the love, the longing, the need they had for each other.

They began to move together, their bodies finding a rhythm that was slow, deliberate, and filled with passion.

Every thrust was a declaration, a promise of the love they shared and the desire that had built up over the time they’d been apart. Max moved with a controlled intensity, each motion deliberate and deep, sending waves of pleasure through Y/N’s body. She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as their bodies moved in perfect harmony.

“God, you feel incredible,” Max groaned, his voice husky as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "I’ve missed this... I’ve missed you."

Y/N could barely speak, her mind clouded with pleasure, but she managed to whisper, “I’ve missed you too… more than you know.”

The world around them seemed to melt away as they lost themselves in each other. The soft glow of the moonlight illuminated their entwined bodies, casting shadows across the room as they moved together. The tension between them began to build, the pleasure intensifying with every movement, every touch.

Max’s lips found hers again, and they kissed with a renewed passion, their breaths mingling as their pace quickened. “Max... I’m so close," Y/N whispered breathlessly, her voice trembling as the tension in her body coiled tighter with each thrust.

Max groaned softly, his grip on her hips tightening as he quickened his pace just slightly, pushing deeper, matching the rhythm of her breath. "I’ve got you," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Let go, baby. I want to feel you."

Her body responded instantly to his words, the intensity building to a crescendo. Y/N’s fingers gripped the sheets, her back arching as she lost herself in the overwhelming sensations. With one final thrust, the tension snapped, sending her spiraling into a powerful climax. A soft cry escaped her lips as her body trembled beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over her like a tidal wave.

Max watched her in awe, his breath ragged as he felt her body tighten around him, her release pushing him closer to his own edge. He held on, guiding her through her orgasm, his touch tender but filled with a hunger that was only growing.

As Y/N’s breathing began to slow, her heart still racing, she looked up at him, her eyes heavy with satisfaction but still filled with desire.

"Max," she whispered, her voice still soft but laced with renewed desire. She gazed up at him, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her release, but a fresh wave of need stirred within her. "I need more of you."

Max’s eyes darkened with passion at her words. "You’ll have all of me," he promised, his voice thick with emotion. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, slow kiss, pouring all of his love and need into it. His hands roamed over her body, feeling the warmth of her skin, savoring every inch.

Without breaking the kiss, he began to move again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring every second. Y/N moaned softly into his mouth, her body still sensitive but craving more of the intense connection between them. Their bodies moved in perfect unison, the rhythm building again but with an aching slowness that heightened every touch, every sensation.

“You feel so good,” Max groaned, his forehead resting against hers as they moved together. "I never want to stop."

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, her fingers tracing the lines of his back as she whispered, "Don’t. Stay with me... like this."

Max’s eyes softened, his expression one of pure adoration. "Always," he breathed. "I’m not going anywhere."

They continued to move together, their bodies entwined as they rode the waves of pleasure. Y/N could feel another release building within her, slower this time, but just as intense. Each thrust from Max brought her closer, their movements perfectly in sync, the connection between them deepening with every second. She clung to him, her breath coming in short gasps as the pleasure mounted, her body trembling beneath him.

"Max…" she whispered, her voice a soft plea as her fingers tangled in his hair. "I’m so close again."

Max’s breathing was ragged, his muscles tense as he held back, wanting to savor every moment. "Me too," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you cum with me."

The intensity between them built to a fever pitch, the air charged with electricity. Y/N’s body responded to his every touch, her pulse quickening as her climax approached. Max’s hands gripped her hips tighter, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more deliberate as they both teetered on the edge.

And then, with a shared gasp, the tension broke. Y/N’s release crashed over her, her body arching into his as she moaned his name. The sensation of her tightening around him was enough to send Max over the edge, his own climax hitting him with a force that left him breathless. He buried his face in her neck, his body trembling as he rode out the waves of pleasure, their bodies locked together in the abyss.

For a moment, they stayed suspended in that blissful connection, hearts racing and bodies intertwined. As the final tremors of their shared climax faded, they both breathed heavily, wrapped in a warm cocoon of contentment.

Y/N gazed up at Max, her eyes shining with a mix of awe and affection. "That was… incredible," she whispered, still catching her breath.

Max smiled down at her, his fingers gently tracing her cheek. “You’re incredible,” he replied, his voice soft and filled with warmth. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like that before.”

She smiled back, a sense of happiness flooding her chest. “Neither have I. I’ve missed this—us—so much.”

Max leaned down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, his touch feather-light yet filled with longing. “We’ll make up for lost time,” he murmured against her lips. “I promise to always be here, to always come back to you.”

“I hope so,” Y/N said, her voice tinged with vulnerability. “I just want to share moments like this with you, always.”

Max brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead, his expression serious yet tender. “You have my heart, Y/N. No matter where life takes me, I’ll always come back to you.”

They lay in silence for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world outside fading away. Max’s thumb brushed against her skin in soothing circles as they enjoyed the tranquility that followed their passionate encounter.

“What do you want to do now?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he shifted slightly, his body still intimately close to hers.

Y/N chuckled softly, a playful smile spreading across her face. “Well, I wouldn’t mind a little more kissing,” she teased, biting her lip.

Max raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Just kissing, huh? I think I can handle that.”

“Okay, maybe a little cuddling too,” she admitted, snuggling closer to him, resting her head against his chest.

“Cuddling is definitely in order,” he replied, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close as they sank into the comfort of each other’s presence.

They lay together in peaceful silence, the quiet of the room punctuated only by their steady breathing. Y/N felt a sense of bliss wash over her, the warmth of Max’s body anchoring her in the moment. She felt safe, cherished, and utterly content.

“Promise me something,” she said after a while, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything,” Max replied, his tone serious.

“Promise me we’ll always find our way back to each other, no matter what,” she urged, looking up at him with earnest eyes.

Max smiled softly, his gaze unwavering. “I promise. No matter where we are, or how long we’re apart, my heart will always come home to you.”

Y/N sighed with relief, but then a playful smile crossed her face. “You know, I’m suddenly craving some appeltaart,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Max chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Apple pie? Didn’t we just take a couple of bites? You’re a hopeless romantic and a dessert lover!”

“I am! But I can’t help it if my mind goes straight to pie after a moment like this,” she teased, her heart lightening at the thought of enjoying their shared creation together.

He laughed, brushing his fingers through her hair. “Alright, let’s make a deal. I’ll grab us some more pie, but you have to promise me you won’t eat it all.”

Y/N grinned, her excitement bubbling over. “Only if you promise to let me have the first spoonful! I did all the work, after all.”

“Fine! But only if you feed some to me, like earlier,” he shot back playfully, nudging her.

As they exchanged banter, Y/N felt warmth bloom in her chest, knowing they would create countless more memories to cherish in the days to come. Each playful tease and shared laugh deepened the connection between them, solidifying their bond in ways words couldn’t express. She imagined all the moments they would share before Max had to leave again for racing—a whirlwind of late-night baking sessions filled with flour fights, spontaneous drives along the coast, and lazy afternoons spent exploring the city together.

The thought of their future together was a beautiful tapestry waiting to be woven, each thread representing a cherished memory. She could picture them at the kitchen counter, Max attempting to teach her the perfect way to cut an apple while she playfully distracted him. They’d create inside jokes about his “expert” baking skills and her inability to follow a recipe, laughing until their sides hurt.

With a soft sigh, she turned her head to gaze up at him, her heart swelling with affection. “We’re going to have an incredible journey, aren’t we?” she mused, her voice barely above a whisper, but filled with hope.

Max met her gaze, his eyes shining with warmth and promise. “Absolutely. I can’t wait to see where life takes us, even if that means I’ll be racing again soon.” He paused, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to come back for my favorite chef’s apple pie.”

Y/N laughed, feeling the joy bubble up inside her. “Just remember to bring me back some trophies, too!”

His laughter echoed through the room, wrapping around her like a warm embrace. “Only if you promise to be waiting for me when I get back,” he said, his tone turning serious but still filled with affection.

“Always,” she replied, her heart pounding with certainty. Whatever challenges they faced—him being around the world, random phone calls, and the anticipation of his next departure—they would face them together. The future stretched out before them like a racetrack, filled with twists and turns but ultimately leading them back to one another, fueled by love, laughter, and an unwavering commitment to their shared journey.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

tag list: @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey

[steamy-linguine]

LATE NIGHT BEER

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Read part 2 here

A/N: OMG, HI??? It’s been forever and I haven’t posted in ages but I’ve been on a wolverine kick and thought I should dump a drabble. Anyway, it’s a slow burn and the reader is already given a mutant name, enjoy, might post a pt. 2 hehe

Warnings: None, all fluff, slow burn (sorry), old man logan (need him)

Word count: idk??? Sorry babes.

There you were. Sitting in the garden with your hair pushed behind your ear, a pen between your lips, and a journal in front of your eyes in the grass.

You were new, he could tell. He would’ve remembered a face like yours before.

“Who’s that?” He pointed in the direction of the girl and Scott did a double take.

“That’s Aurora. She can manipulate light,” Scott answered him before he carried on about some mission but Logan was too entranced to pay attention to his words.

You laid on your stomach with your legs in the air, swinging slowly. You pulled the pen from your lips and began scribbling something and he peered his eyes as if he could see that far, or so he wishes.

“Logan, come on we’ve gotta go.” Scott broke his concentration. Trying not to draw any attention to himself, he turned to follow Scott and leaving the area.

So it was like this for the next few weeks. He would walk into the garden and you would be in your usual spot with the same journal. He would even catch you sometimes in the den watching tv with Rogue. You had a laugh that carried down the hall and would fill the space with something warm that would bloom in his chest.

He hated it, because he knew he couldn’t have you. He was much older, not in an illegal way (of course) but you were young and full of life while he was well over 200 years old, and lived a life full of loss which shaped him into the bitter man he was today. One of the days, he was walking the hallway trying to find Storm for some favor that he had forgotten about when you both had crossed paths and for a moment your gaze caught one another.

You gave him a gentle smile and he instead turned his eyes away from yours and continued forward although just your presence made him forget whatever the fuck he was going to do or ask.

The next night, Logan laid in bed trying to fall asleep but something was keeping him awake or more so someone. Ever since he had known you were here, you always invaded his thoughts and it was every night. He could usually push them away and try to sleep but he couldn’t stop thinking about that same tender smile you gave him. It was already bad enough that everyone around him loved you and wouldn’t shut the fuck up about you and now you were invading his thoughts before bed.

He let out a heavy sigh as he got out of bed and knew what could help him in moments like this which was a nice cold beer. He walked the hallways of the mansion, which was filled with nothing but silence and the sounds of the crickets that sang their night song outside of the windows. He pushed open the door into the kitchen when the fridge door shut suddenly and the sound of a bottle popping caught his attention and he turned.

“Sorry, was I loud?” You asked him in a soft voice, your eyes held an apologetic gaze.

His eyes searched over your body and he shook his head, “No.”

The two stood in silence and Logan looked at the bottle in your hands. “That’s my beer, bub.”

You looked down and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks and the lights in the kitchen flickered for a brief moment and he figured that you might be feeling a bit intimidated.

He shrugged, “You don’t need to be nervous. I also like a cold beer at night.”

He moved closer to you and you took a step back as he towered over you for a second before turning to open the fridge. His shoulders were broad and his arms were huge, you could tell under the white shirt that he was all muscle. Logan grabbed himself a bottle and closed the fridge.

He walked on the other side of the kitchen island and took a seat, popping open his beer also.

“Logan, right?” You broke the silence. He swallowed whatever was in his mouth and he nodded his head.

“Rogue speaks highly of you. She says you’re a friend.” Your voice is soft and you lean back against the fridge doors. He watches as you press the bottle to your lips and takes a drink.

“I’m sure she’s really the only one that thinks that.” His spoke in a hushed tone.

You smile, “Oh no, everyone thinks you’re pretty cool. I mean you are the wolverine.”

A ghost of a smirk graces his face and he looks down for a split second and back to you, whose eyes never left him.

“How are you liking the mansion?” He asks you trying to change the subject.

He notices there is a shift in you. You look around at your atmosphere and for a brief moment he can see there is a hint of sadness in your eyes. “It’s…nice.” You finally answer.

Logan doesn’t press for an answer from you because he knows that expression to well. You were hiding something and it was painful.

“Well, the students seem to like you.” He affirms.

“Is it only the students?” You ask him and Logan raises a curious eyebrow and you do the same to him.

God, I’m too old for this shit.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to just take you and kiss you right now. Lips pressed together and teeth pulling at the bottom of your lip. He wondered how soft your skin would feel under his rough hands, how sweet your voice would sound when you would call out his name and he wouldn’t even cover your mouth, he’d want to hear you.

“I’ve seen you quite a bit Logan.” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he focuses on your words now. “But every time I’ve tried to talk to you, you just ignore me.” You chuckle out the last part.

Logan clears your throat, “I’m sorry I’m not good with conversation.”

“Rogue said that.”

“Of course she did.”

It’s quiet again as the two of you continue to drink and your eyes never leave one another.

“I should probably head to bed. Class is tomorrow and I’m here drinking your beer. Again, I’m really sorry I just assumed since it was in there-“

“It’s fine, bub. Just keep this”-He gestured to the beers-“Between us or else I won’t hear the fucking end of it from Scott.” He said to you as he stood on his feet and held his bottle in his hand.

You gave him that same sweet smile and you nodded as you wished him a goodnight and walked out.

He couldn’t get their conversation out of his head. He only went in the kitchen in hopes to drown his thoughts in the comfort of alcohol only to find the one thing that was being a distraction for him to be standing there in pajamas. It was comedic almost when he thought of it truly.

Logan didn’t think he would ever get another chance to talk to you again but on the next night when he couldn’t escape his thoughts, he went downstairs for another drink only to find you there already waiting for him with two cold beers on the counter.

A/N: CHEESY?? Maybe but pt. 2 will have smut…

[phoenix--quill]

Prompt 28: Blow job

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/reader, gender-neutral reader (mentions of having hair but that’s it)

Rating: E (minors DNI)

Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), hair pulling (slightly), office sex

Length: ~1.500 words

Summery: Sometimes your man just deserves the sloppiest head you can muster

Notes: is this how blow jobs work? Idk I’m just an asexual out here winging it. Also I promise the next one is just going to be people having sex in a bed (at least it wasn’t on a table this time).

AO3

“Aaron? What are you still doing here?”

The warm, though now rather tired-looking, eyes of your boyfriend met yours. He looked exhausted and your heart twinged as you thought about how long he had been sitting there, behind his desk, in his dark office surrounded by mountains of papers.

“I have to look over everybody’s reports before this case goes to trial on Monday.” He threw his pen on the table and rubbed his tired eyes as you made your way over to his desk, stepping behind him to rub his stiff shoulders. “That, and JJ is still on holiday for another three days so I had to sort through the stack police reports that came in this morning.” He let out a sigh as your warm hands moved up along his neck, your fingertips brushing against his hair before making small circles behind his ears. “Hmm, feels nice.”

You were glad he couldn’t see the blush that blossomed on your cheeks just at the sound of his usually deep voice going even deeper, as contentment – and possibly exhaustion – moved through him.

“Sounds like my man is once again doing everybody else’s jobs.”

“Hmm,” he mumbled, getting lost in the feeling of your warm hands on his stiff neck.

“Does that mean I can’t tempt you to come home with me?” You whispered into his skin before starting to leave small kisses from one ear to the other.

He groaned at the feeling on your lips on him. “Sorry, sweetheart, there’s just too much I need to finish.”

“You need to sleep sometime,” you noted as you continued to kiss along the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll have a few hours on the couch, I promise.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, though you couldn’t help leaving a few nibbles along his hairline before you moved to stand beside him. “Can you at least take a small break and kiss me?”

“Always,” he said with a small chuckle as he moved his chair around to face you, knowing how much you loved sitting in his lap.

“Missed you,” you sighed as you straddled his legs and immediately started kissing a line along his jaw, on your way to his mouth. “Always misses you,” you whispered as you caught his lips, going straight for a deep kiss.

He groaned, possibly at your words, possibly at the fervour of your kiss and the feeling of your hands roaming freely over his chest.

You had to break the kiss to catch your breath and let out a moan as you felt his big hands grab hold of your hips, pinning you down against him.

“I have to take better care of you, if this is how you behave after being apart for less than a day,” he whispered against your lips, leaving small kisses against the corner of your mouth.

“Maybe you should,” you moaned and couldn’t help grinding slightly against him. The truth were that you always needed him, that even the slightest thought of him or the smallest whiff of his cologne sent your thoughts into overdrive and filled your body with desire. “But right now I would rather take care of you.”

You leaned back and tried to move off of him but his hands stayed firm on your hips.

“Not here, sweetheart, someone could walk in.” He tried to catch you mouth again, attempting to draw you back to him.

“No one is going to come, Aaron, everybody went home hours ago. Relax and let me do this,” you whispered in what you hoped was a soothing manner and stroked his hands, hoping he would release you.

He held your gaze for a moment before looking over, first at the closed door and then the dark office space outside his window. He then gave a small nod and let go of your hips, letting his head fall back against his chair.

You couldn’t help planting a quick kiss on the underside of his chin before sliding off his lap and kneeling on the floor between his legs. You knew he didn’t like breaking the rules, especially at work, but you also knew that he needed this, needed to relax, even for just a moment. It was just an added bonus that you really loved going down on him.

Starting from his knee, you planted open-mouthed kisses along his thigh though as you got closer and closer to his groin you added a bit more teeth, making him groan and raise his hips slightly. You moved on to his belt and you swore the clink of it opening had left a Pavlovian response in your brain, as you felt your mouth water and your mind fog over with lust.

“You know you don’t have to,” he said, trying to dissuade you once again even as his voice got deeper and his breathing heavier.

“Want to,” was your only reply as finally got his pants open enough to pull out his already half hard member. As always when you were in this position, you marvelled at the size of him, not overly long but so thick you could barely close your hand around him.

You gave it a few pumps and felt him stiffen in your hand before taking him as far into your mouth as you could without chocking. He drew a sharp breath and you felt his hand move to your hair, not steering your head but simply holding. You bobbed your head a few times, taking him deeper and deeper and felt his hand starting to rhythmically clench in your hair.

On the next downturn, you stopped halfway and let saliva fill your mouth as your tongue found that special spot under his head. His reaction was immediate as he let out a deep moan and his hand grabbed your hair even tighter. You felt his thigh spasming against your hand as he resisted bucking his hips and you gave it a few reassuring squeezes as you went back to bobbing your head, this time hollowing your cheeks, adding even more suction.

“So good, sweetheart. So close,” he moaned in between heavy breaths as you continued to take him as far as you could.

You slipped one hand under his shirt, running your fingers through the short hairs below his navel and felt his stomach clenching as he neared his climax. The other hand went to his groin, gently cupping his heavy balls before squeezing them gently in time with the movement of your mouth on his shaft.

He let out another deep moan and tried to pull you off of him, clearly about to cum but you weren’t leaving – not now. Instead you laid your hand flat against his abdomen and pushed him slightly back, hoping to get your point across.

“Fuck,” he groaned and this time he couldn’t stop his hips from moving as the hand in your hair held your head still and he filled your mouth with his cum.

You moaned and the vibrations made him let out a shaky breath and he pulled you off of him, the sensations becoming too much. You leaned your head against his knee and caught your breath, the salty taste of his spent still dancing on your tongue – how were you going to leave him now, when he looked so deliciously fucked out and all you wanted to do was to devour him all over again. Plus you weren’t entirely sure your legs were working.

“Still can’t tempt you to come home with me?” you laughed breathlessly and nuzzled against his leg.

He groaned, still trying to get his breathing under control. “You know I can’t, however much I would love to.” He stroked your hair, trying to get it back to how it had been before.

You nodded and flashed him a smile, you were teasing him but you also knew how serious he took his job and would never stand in the way of that.

“I guess I’ll just go home and take care of myself then,” you said with a laugh as you got up and tried not to wobble on your stiff knees.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he groaned as he got up too, fixing his clothes before walking you to his door.

You both turned to each other as you got there and his hand came back to stroke your hair. He simply looked at you for a moment and then drew you in for a kiss so soft it took your breath away all over again.

As you broke apart, you squeezed his hand, flashed him a brilliant smile and walked to the elevator before either of you could come up with more excuses for you to stay.

[httpiastri]

snowy mountains & hot baths – op81

you, oscar, and an empty spa can only lead to one thing.

genre: very short smut 😶

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

warnings: uhhh public sex.... unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it yall!!

author's note: happy valentines day :) wish i had oscar here to celebrate with me... anyway. idk about this one guys 🫠🫠 started out alright but then i hated half of it so i deleted it and rewrote it but it just got worse. and i know that if i don't just post it rn, i will likely procrastinate and never end up posting it at all. yay. hope u enjoy anyway! i also have another oscar fic done that's at least a bit better than this lol.

f1 masterlist

18+ content below, minors do not interact!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

a low groan leaves oscar's lips when he dips his feet in the warm water. he instantly turns around, eyes finding you standing by the door you've just walked through to get to this outdoor area of the spa. he holds his hand out towards you, beckoning for you to step closer.

"it feels so good," he promises, gaze following your every move as you let your robe slide down your arms. his eyes widen when you reveal your newly bought bikini – papaya orange, of course – and a shudder passes through his body at the sight of the tiny material trying it's best to cover you up.

he thanks all the gods he can think of that there's no one else around.

goosebumps grow across your skin now that you're exposed to the sub-zero temperatures, toes curling in the short layer of snow on the deck. you stroll over to him, making sure to let your hips sway a little extra with every step because you know he's watching and you know what he's thinking. the sight of him gulping as his eyes wander up and down your body can only mean one thing.

taking his hand in yours, you let him pull you into the water with him, letting out a content sound when the water envelops your legs and brings the temperature of your body up again. oscar gives your hand a squeeze and leans back, his back hitting the water as he submerged into it. you dive in right after him, making a few strokes beneath the surface before coming up for air again. your hands come up to wipe away the water from your face, before brushing over your hair and tying it up in a messy bun on top of your head.

"this is just what i needed," your boyfriend says, drawing out an agreeing hum from you. it's been a long day – a long week, really – filled to the brim with skiing, hot chocolate drinking, skiing, cable car-rides, and then more skiing. oscar doesn't usually get a lot of time off work, and when he does, he wants to make the most of it. and as his partner, he thinks you should be doing the same, and that's why he's woken you up in the early hours every morning this last week, practically bouncing from how much he aches to go out in the swiss alps yet again.

the hot tub is big enough to swim around in, but oscar makes his way to the side and sits down on the built-in seat, arms stretching out and resting on the edge of the pool. you swim over to him, easily slipping onto his lap and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. oscar tenses up when you sit on him, and you're not surprised by the length already poking up at you – he's just a man, after all – but you decide not to do anything to acknowledge it just yet.

"it's really beautiful here, don't you think?" you ask, looking to your side. the sun has only just set, so the little village isn't completely dark yet. the moon above your heads casts a soft hue over the mountains you've spent all week conquering, stars twinkling among the tops.

"not as beautiful as you, though." there's barely any lightning out here other than the little candles scattered across the floor, but you see the fire in oscar's gaze clearly when you look back at him. he's staring at you like you're the most perfect work of art, the most beautiful thing to ever exist – and your expression matches his, because he truly is your favorite thing to look at in the world. your heart flutters at the contrast between how cute he looks with a few locks of his long fringe curling along his forehead, and how incredibly sexy his body looks with the little droplets of water decorating his muscular chest. he's just stunning.

"you really did a great job with planning and booking all of this, you know," you start. "i may have complained quite a bit when you dragged me out of bed at six am, but... it's all been perfect."

your hands find the space just below his jaw, and it takes all of your strength not to blatantly stare at his thick neck when you feel the muscles under your touch.

"well, perfect except for the fact that my legs are so sore right now."

oscar chuckles at this confession, hands leaving the edge of the pool and dipping into the water instead. "let me help you out with that, then..."

a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his palms meet your bare thighs, fingers pressing into the skin and stroking you softly. your eyes flutter closed, loving every second of his massage and growing hotter when his hands make their way further and further up. it doesn't take long before oscar can't hold back anymore, reaching up to press his lips against yours.

you sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself further towards him, your crotch brushing against his as a result. the moan he lets out is so hot that you instinctively begin grinding down against him, wanting to hear more.

oscar gets the hint, but finds himself reaching for your shoulders, holding you back as he leans out of the kiss. your lips chase after him, a frown taking over your face when he doesn't give in. you open your eyes to look at him.

"are you sure... that you want to..." oscar's voice is low but genuine; he knows you aren't a fan of exhibitionism, and that these situations usually only make you uncomfortable.

but the look in your eyes is impossible to misinterpret. "there's no one around..."

he looks around the area once more just to make sure. choosing to go to the spa at 8pm, the exact time when the restaurant at the hotel was the most crowded, was oscar's best idea yet.

he doesn't say anything else. he just grabs the back of your neck, pushing you down to his lips yet again. it's more rushed now, messy kisses pressed against your lips and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip hastily. his other hand caresses all the way down your back, gives your butt a quick squeeze, and then moves to your front instead. his fingers trace the edge of your bikini before dipping inside of it, finding your clit with ease.

your upper body is completely leaning onto him by now, little sounds slipping past your lips as he starts drawing circles onto your already sensitive bud. in no time, he's slipped past your clit, one finger sliding into your core and pumping you a couple of times before being joined by another finger. you can't help but clench around him, exhaling into the kiss.

"please, oscar..." you whine against his lips, and oscar nods, pulling out of you and breaking the kiss. he holds your hips away a little to make space for his hand undoing the knot that holds up his swim trunks, before pulling his dick out of them. he lifts you up, fingers pushing your bikini bottoms to the side but pausing when his tip meets your core. he waits for your nod of consent before finally entering you.

the water helps him glide into you, a throaty moan rumbling from his throat when he bottoms you out. he doesn't give you even a second to adjust, hands on your hips pulling you up before sinking you onto him again.

"fuck," he lets out, throwing his head back when you start to roll your hips against his. "you feel so good..."

you lean forward, forehead resting on the bend of his neck as you bounce up and down on him. your hands move to the back of his head, fingers getting lost in his locks, and it doesn't take long before your movements get sloppier. you gasp when oscar begins thrusting up into you, meeting your downward movements in a steady rhythm.

his grip on your hips grows firmer, rough fingers pressing into your skin and surely leaving marks for tomorrow. he's getting closer, too – you can tell by the string of moans he's letting out in between a bunch of swearwords – and you use your last bit of energy to pick up your pace and help him out. your walls contract around him when you come, and you feel him reach his own high not long after, twitching and shooting into you as you ride out your orgasms.

his hands are more gentle now, brushing up and down your back and following the bumps of your spine. when you finally gain the energy to speak, your words vibrate against his skin. "well, we're never coming back to this spa again." you lean back slightly, looking up at him for the first time in a while. "or the town, for that matter."

his blissed-out eyes meet yours, soft and glossy as he raises his eyebrows. "why's that?"

his flushed cheeks make him look so innocent, but his heaving chest tells another story. "did you not see the cameras?" you question.

"oh, you think we're the first ones to do this here?" you gasp at his wording, splashing some water his way. he laughs. "what, do you really? i reckon this happens here at least once every day. maybe even more."

"oscar!"

[star-suh]

Bounty Hunters

Kim Jungwoo x Male Reader

cw: wild west au, top jungwoo, some angst ig, hate fucking to fluff fucking idk, bareback, creampie, a kinda toxic relationship between them, some spit play.

—

this is the story of kim jungwoo and yn ln, two 'silly' bounty hunters that can't stand each other except when it comes to sex.

“hey you son of a bitch” jungwoo exclaimed shooting at yn's feet. “what are you doing with that poster. that reward is for me, i am looking for him already.. forget about him, go get another".

“oi you bastard, look where you're shooting at”. he sighed. “and this” he signals at the paper with his finger “this is my reward, i came here first, bitch”.

“who are you calling bitch?” jungwoo's left eye twitching in anger, “should i remind you who's the bitch?” he came closer towards yn grabbing the hair on the back of his head, pulling his face closer “huh?” anger laced in his tone. yn laughs, pulling his lips closer to jungwoo’s and when they're about to kiss yn’s lips ghosted the others lips and instead went straight to his ear “you're just jealous i’m not your bitch”. yn kiss jungwoo’s cheeks and left. leaving a flustered jungwoo even more angry. “cute” murmured yn.

the day passed and jungwoo still has not found the wanted guy on the poster but then something caught his attention, yn was coming out of the police station with some bags of gold coins. then both made eye contact, something that yn took advantage of to mock jungwoo. showing him the bags of coins and ripping the wanted poster in pieces.

jungwoo’s blood was boiling, how is it possible that that dumbass has collected the reward and not him. yn went to a saloon and bought a bottle of liquor to celebrate. just when he was going to taste the liquid the bottle exploded into pieces. confused he looked to the floor and then to the sides, and there he was. jungwoo with a sinister smile, he had shot his precious bottle of liquor.

“what the fuck kim jungwoo” yn sprinted towards him. “stop or i'll shoot” jungwoo aimed his pistol directly at yn's forehead but this didn't stop him, “i'm not scared to die, what about you?” yn pulls out his gun and puts it on jungwoo's forehead too. the cold metal of each other's guns pressed against their heads. veins popping in their necks and faces red, showing how angry they were…

jungwoo was back in his room. reflecting about his actions today, he almost killed the only person who has been with him since the beginning of becoming a bounty hunter. he hated yn but he also cared about him, something he would never admit in front of the other.

it was almost midnight when someone knocked at jungwoo's door. his sleepy form stood up and opened it when something fell to the floor. jungwoo turn on the lights and saw yn covered in blood. “what the- what happened?” jungwoo said concerned, something that surprised yn. “i got into a fight and they shoot me on the arm” he answered.

“you're such a dumbass, a stupid motherfucker and a pain in the ass, you know that?” jungwoo hit his head lightly, “they should've shoot you right in the middle of your forehead”. he went to his nightstand pulling out a leather bag with some first aid elements.

yn takes off his jacket and shirt so jungwoo can patch his wounds, thankfully the bullet passed the arm and is not stuck on there. “you look pretty when you're focused” yn jokingly praised. jungwoo in return pressed the wound making the other squeal in pain “shut up” he whispered.

after some back and forth whispers between them they stare at each other, lost in the moment and with their lips a few inches apart they kiss. it was their first kiss, their lips didn't touch each other even in the nights of wild sex. it was a sign that they couldn't hold it anymore. “i hate you so much” jungwoo whispered, discarding his pants and yn's.

“then… hate me more” yn replied.

the top didn't wait to impale his shaft on the bottom’s hole, it went straight in, drawing some whinings from yn’s mouth. jungwoo channeled all the hatred he had for yn into the sex session. he was rude, rough, using yn for his pleasure, not caring if he's being hurt or not… for now… “slow.. down” yn pleaded unable to match jungwoo’s pace. “shut up” jungwoo opened his mouth using his thumb and index finger to spit on it and kiss, “use that mouth for something more interesting” he introduced his fingers and then licked the saliva on it, repeating the process more times.

jungwoo pushed yn's face against the mattress using his right foot, while he made sure to keep pounding him. “you're hole is perfect for my dick. you were made to pleasure me.. learn your place” if words could kill yn would be already in hell. he just nodded, his whimpers being muffled by the mattress while tears rolled down his flushed cheeks and his eyes were rolled back. jungwoo didn't realized, until now, that yn's arm was bleeding. his roughness had opened his lover's wound, something that made him stop his thrusts, positioning yn in missionary.

yn could finally see jungwoo's face, he was crying but not for pleasure, he was sad. “what happened?” yn asked, worried about his companion. jungwoo lost for words just plop himself on top of yn, hugging him making sure to not hurt his wound more. “you're a fucking fool, you know that?” he cleared his throat, “i'm sorry” he apologized “i didn't mean to hurt you. b-but… you know how scared i was when i saw you like this” he took a deep breath trying to calm down “i-i don't like seeing you like this yn.. please take care of yourself” jungwoo finally let out his feelings for yn, “i like you. please don't get hurt. i wanna keep seeing your ugly face for a long time”.

“i… i appreciate this vulnerability moment from you but, how you manage to say that while still being rock hard inside me” yn responded, earning a soft punch from jungwoo in his chest. “you're really good at ruining special moments, dumbass” jungwoo exclaimed and yn just laughed.

“i like you too”...

the sex continued but this time it was slow, more intimate. they both felt liberated, letting go of the burden they had been carrying on their shoulders, their repressed feelings. before, sex for them was like a way to release stress, now it has become a more intimate act where they can be vulnerable and connect with each other. their happily ever after moment. yn keep kissing jungwoo, his lips were one of his favorite parts from him.

“i wanna keep seeing your pretty face too” he said.

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

The Anomaly || JJK || 0

Prologue

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 1.3k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, eventually Character x Reader (idk who yet tho)

Masterlist | Next

[ 19.58, parallel Jujutsu Kaisen Universe ]

Your eyes narrow, taking in the scene in front of you. This fight is becoming tougher by the minute. 

The special grade cursed spirit across from you smiles, it's face agonizingly similar to that of a human's. 

You're weighing your options. This special grade seems to have powers that connect with space. It can move at an impossible speed, managing to pop up in the nick of time in a completely different spot meters away. 

It's powers are powerful. Currently, you're a second grade sorcerer. You're powerful, but more against curse users than actual spirits. You can do a lot of things other sorcerers are still dreaming of. 

Your cursed technique is Water Manipulation. Like the name suggests, you can manipulate and change the structure of any body of water. You're powerful, but especially against people, as they are made up of 60% water after all. 

" It seems you're losing. "

The cursed spirit is laughing at you, it's dark, hollow eyes scrutinizing you as it takes you in. 

You huff at him, forcing yourself to stand your ground. You raise your arms, ready to continue your fight. 

A fake, easy smirk settles on your face. 

" Maybe you should open your eyes, I'm actually imagining all the different ways I can exorcise you. " 

Your expression is smug, though you feel anything but, internally panicking. 

You'll have to fight your way out of this, even if you're not sure you can win. 

You're not dying today. You will make it out alive. 

You unclasp the water skins resting on both of your hips, your hands moving fluidly as they guide the water into a make shift weapon. Today, you choose for it's vast, sharp nature, speeding the water's movements as you form two ring blades- two huge circles who act as an extension of your arm. The water they exist of is whirring at an incredible speed, making them exceptionally sharp. Right now, you're not aiming to fight the spirit. It doesn't seem all too afraid of close up combat, but you hope you can draw it back far enough towards the bridge that connects this village to the city over a river. If you can do that, you'll stand a chance. You could escape, or better yet, win. 

Your eyes narrow into a serious expression as you charge at it. It's smug, it's counter powerful as it fights back. 

" This is also quite fun you know, I didn't expect we'd be getting all close and personal. " It grins. 

The spirit you're fighting might look humanoid, bit it's still got a weird purple skin colour. It's hair is blue, the colours clashing with one another. It's not pretty, in fact, it's very uncomfortable to look at. 

You scoff. 

" Don't get used to it. "

You don't bother to say more as you quicken your movements, your aim a little desperate, but definitely dangerous. It's starting to work. Your rapid attacks are sending the cursed spirit back, not wanting to be caught in one of your make shift blades.  Soon enough, it's drawing back, slowly getting closer and closer to the river. It raises it's arm, and you jump out of the way. A new, free path lies in front of you, and you take your chance.

To your horrific surprise, it seems to launch some sort of ball, vaguely reminding you of Gojo's sensei's technique. It doesn't just explode the building it hits, it turns into a small, black hole, sucking in a part of the falling bricks. You're running towards the river, however, just before you reach it, it jumps in the way. However, the river is now in your reach, and you seize the opportunity. Reaching out your hands, you command the water far below you, and it shoots out in a spike towards the cursed spirit. It moves out of the way just in time, and you take it's place instead, continuing to summon the water around you. It turns into a huge circle, spinning protectively around you. The weight of the water is heavy, but you can handle it, even if it does weigh down your movements.

However, as you're getting ready to launch the attack, the spirit laughs, sending another ball your way. You release all the water, letting it fall on the ground as you jump out the way. The ball hits the ground, and this one doesn't turn into a small black void. Instead, it releases a huge wave, sending you back. First, it makes you hit the railing of the bridge, your back hurting on the impact. Ouch. Lucks seems to be on your side, as you somehow manage to flip over the railing, now falling towards the river. A very rich power source. 

The spirit smirks, catching you of guard. It creates some kind of golden ring, and to your surprise, it teleports. It's under you within a second, and before you know it, you're falling in it. 

-

You groan as you wake up, squinting at the harsh sunlight. 

" Huh?.. " You're puzzled. 

Where are you? It takes you a few moments before you realize exactly where you are. As you turn to your left, the archway to Jujutsu Tech greets you. 

You're back here? How? 

Something is wrong. You were in a nearby village just now, not too far away. It was cloudy there. It was only a 10 minute drive from your school. How was it sunny here already? 

You rub your face, completely confused. You can swear that the air is different too. Something isn't right. However, a searing pain spreads through your body. Shit, your back. You forgot about that. You groan as it hits you. 

You turn to your water skins, only to see that you left it uncapped. The water must've fallen out as you fell. Damnit, you don't even have enough water to heal yourself. 

" Salmon roe? "

" Inumaki senpai! Holy shit am I glad to see you. " You groan, struggling to get up. 

He sends you a questioning look, stepping back when you reach for him. You return his look. 

" My back's killing me-"

" Pickled mustard leaf. " 

He's raising his hand at you as he speaks, a warning for you not to move. Your eyes widen in realization. He doesn't recognize you. He's asking how you know his name. 

Your mouth opens slightly. What was going on? You were relatively close with your upperclassmen. 

" You- what? - You're playing a game, right? You know who I am. C'mon, we've sparred so often. You trained me for the exchange event a few months ago-"

Inumaki shakes his hands at you, making you pause your words. The both of you blink at each other for a good minute. Him wondering who you are, and you wondering what was going on. 

" I'm your underclassman. You know me. I know you. You're Inumaki Toge. You can only speak in rice ball ingredients because of your cursed speech technique- your favorite rice ball ingredient is Tuna mayo. I know because I asked months ago when we got to know each other. Also I accidentally hit you in the head with a baseball during our baseball game against the Kyoto school.- I'm Kamo Y/N. Your favorite underclassman (you're probably not, but that doesn't matter), Ryomen's best friend-"

He blinks in question again, as you blink in response. 

" Ryomen Sukuna? My best friend? He's like-"

" Sleep. "

Your eyes fall closed as you fall to the ground, completely unconscious. 

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 11 | stanley pines x f!reader 

Summary: a record-breaking blizzard has both you and stan out in the snow one fateful february night. you both find something in the snow. 

warnings (TW): swearing, idk blizzards?, panic-induced situtions

tags: mutual-pining, sibling dynamics, affection

notes: yoooo this was crazy hard to write guys! I had to do this in pieces! And like the ending may have been.. A last minute decision (no it was not i was thinking about it for months) but like helllooooo everyone! I am here and kinda around sometimes! I missed you all so much life has been allll over the place! I hope you all enjoy <3 look forward to the comments always i love feedback on writing and or storyline!! It keeps me going and motivated to hear for you all!! (special thank you to cass for the playlist <3 it helped w writing!!) much love to you all enjoy ! 

word count: 5.1k

| masterlist | 

February, 1988 

Living this far north had it plights, she learned. 

Not that she had never experienced winter, but it was different when it came around in Gravity Falls. 

There was an eloquent sequestering they pivoted into come the first snowfall in November. Stan had a tendency to hunker, moving blankets to and from different rooms. She especially loved stealing his hoodies and pants from their new dryer. They fell into a routine of drawing closer and closer come the colder months, and he had a tendency to ensure she always left with the appropriate coat, the red one, and her hat and gloves. He floated and pestered more when it began to snow each season. But for some reason, released the reins when it came to her driving to school despite the icy roads and blurred white windshield. 

After the escapade at the lake last January, and her handling the drive home, essentially alone, he was fairly confident in her home-taught driving skills, despite her being somewhat nervous about the road in the early snowy mornings. The headlights always cast shapely shadows on the snow and trees, blurring the lines of the road and making her reliant on the brakes too much for her comfort. She knew the breaks could not actually fight against the slick traction and black sheet ice that lay just below the surface of freshly fallen snow. So sometimes she’d give him that look in the early school mornings, staring at him across the kitchen table as he peers through the newspaper again. She’d nudge her feet across his lap, his fingers curling around her ankles, nudging her sock up her leg. 

“Yes, dear.” He’d say, not questioning. Because he knew after so many times of her insisting and nervous fretting. He always said it in a joking tone, a quick phrase his father would always say to placate his mother. A dismissal of her usual rantings and worrying and lingering in doorways. 

He liked to believe he used it in a more endearing way. One that meant more, he hoped. He enjoyed doing things for her, he discovered. A more innate need than anything, to give into her ploys so easily. He thinks that's what husbands do, anyway. Complain about their wives in an endearing way, because everything that perhaps should have been annoying about her only made him all the more dizzy about her. So he’d drive her most mornings. 

But he couldn’t today. 

He was tied up with work and the giftshop that day. Despite the reduced hours, he was insistent that morning that he needed to stay in. He had fucked up the exact delivery he usually gets every two months to resupply some of the smaller novelties up front. After the rush of a small local Christmas crowd, he was in need of some smaller and more centered gifts for the upcoming Valentine's holiday. He had been distracted by the holiday, thinking about an appropriate gift to give her for the holiday. He hadn’t ever gotten her anything for the holiday before, but things felt… different recently. There was a hairs breath between the line they continually both danced around. He was thinking about the perfect gift to give her that also danced along that winding line, when he scheduled the next upcoming order to come in at 8 a.m. sharp, instead of the usual late-day delivery of 6:30 p.m. He had sworn at the mishap, and sent her on her glum way with a brush of his hand along her hairline. The snow wasn’t that bad that particular morning anyway, he reasoned. 

“Do you want me to come and get you?”  His voice crackled over the landline, muffled by the snow on powerlines.  

She sighed. “No, Stan. I don’t want you walking in this snow just to drive me home.”  

“I don’t want you driving in it, though.” He pauses, a grunt front along the line. “I’m on my way.” A fumble and a thud along the line, a boot, perhaps. The zip of his new coat. 

“No!” She pulled the phone away from her ear, wringing her hand across her chest. He was too stubborn for his own good at times. “Stanley.” She whispered. “Don’t, please, I’ll be leaving in the next 10 minutes. I should be home in 45 minutes.” She predicted, eyeing the heavy snow out the window. The kids had been let go early today, but work from past weeks had piled up, and she insisted the lead teacher go back to her own family. (“Don’t you have your own?” The older woman had asked.) 

He humphed, unhappy at the prospect of her discomfort with the dark road. “You got 30 before I start walking hun’.”

Her shoulders fell. He always got his way when it came to her. Something she didn’t completely mind, except when it was at his own expense. Which it currently was. She hated seeing him cold in any capacity. It’s why she constantly dried his clothes and invested in more throw blankets. And why she no longer took baths in the tub she laid his blue body in last January. She was frustrated at his insistence, but also painfully aware of her nervousness at the darkness outside waiting for her. But she’d rather face some selfish fear of dark roads than have him blindly stumbling through the snow and sludge to get her. She’s never asked him to do that, but seemingly he’d do it of his own volition anyway. 

“I’m on my way, Stanley. I’ll see you soon.” She clips, the edge of a confession curled on her tongue. She thought it may be the hectic day she had, but him annoyingly strongarming the conversation was only really ever endearing. She wondered how many years it would stay that way, when she would be sick of his deep and sheltered sweetness. 

He hums, it crinkles through the phone line. A resolute tone in his deep voice. “30 minutes, hun’.” He says again, she sighs, hanging the phone back up to the head office’s receptor. Folding loose papers into her shoulder bag, cleaning up the head secretary’s desk before shrugging on Stan’s coat and her secondhand gloves before flicking off the last light on in the building to head off into the parking lot. 

Stan’s car sat rigid and the leather of the seat was cold under her thighs. She had to dig the back tires out of the deep cavern that the fastly falling snow had created. The imprint of where she had parked that morning now lay under several inches of new fresh snow. She spent exactly 5 minutes digging the tires out with her now sopping-wet gloves. She had 25 minutes. 

The inside of the car didn’t prove to be of much comfort either. It felt darker in the driver's seat, the only cast of light coming from the radio and her headlights. The staggered street lamps acted as pacers, marking the next point on the road in which she could unwind her hands from their deadly grip along the leather wheel. There were next to no other cars on the country road that led her home. She had 20 minutes. 

The radio sizzled in the darkness of the car. Scrambled late-night talk show reruns sounded crisp and rattled the dashboard of the aging car. The rumble of the motor broke up the silence between the muffled voices on the radio. She thinks to flick the radio, disturbed by the noises of the turning tires and the faint voices. She’d prefer Stan’s voice now, and his rumbling while she hummed to the radio. A song would distract her from the crispness of her breath in front of her, the coldness of the cabin, and the gentle slip of the tires. The tug of the wheel from time to time as the car displaces the inches of snow on the road. 

She glances at the clock. She has 15 minutes. 

She glances again, one hand steady on the wheel and the other reaching for the radio nob. She knows the channel she will flick to already, to that annoying 70’s music channel that Stan always grumbles at but secretly enjoys. 

Movement catches her eye in the dimness of the upcoming street lamp, and the car slips along faster against the ice than her foot can move to the brake. A flash in front of her, and a heavy movement of snow. An animal perhaps, she would believe, if it weren’t for the distinct color of clothes that moved in front of her, spotted between the heavy snowfall. 

She breaks and veers as quickly as she can.

“Oh my god.” She breathes. “Oh my god.” Hands heavy against the wheel, still she unwinds them finger by finger. Breath heavy, hand meeting her chest above her heart. She begins to rattle the door open, stepping out the driver’s side and rushing into the snow. Forgoing her hat and gloves. 

The figure is deep in the snow, directly under the street lamp. Flashes of color move in the deep snow, and the grumbling of a voice meets her. It’s too dark to ascertain, so she quickly moves closer, calling to what she believes to be a person insane enough to walk in this blizzard. 

Only Stan was insane enough to walk in the snowy dark like this. 

“Oh my god.” She thinks to take a breath again, calm her chest, and to disassociate the ringing in her ears. “Stanley!” She calls, rushing forward. 

Except she does not find Stan’s stature in the snow, but comes upon the constant movement of the snow instead, sort of like the person she had almost killed was struggling to get up above the snow. Voices grew more distinct as she reached to assist the person. 

“Give it back! It’s my turn!” The voice of a young girl met her, in sequence with a young boy’s. 

“You’ve had your turn, and we just keep going farther back!” 

She reaches into the pile now, realizing in the dark of this particular Thursday night she had stumbled upon two siblings battling it out in the middle of the road during the worst blizzard of the season. 

The children are not swayed by her hands and words, too caught up in the argument between them. Constantly grabbing and reaching for an object, passed back and forth from hand to hand. Each time a sibling breathes for a break the other moves to snatch the object back. No rest between their fight. They move in sequence as if the other can predict the nexts’ very move. 

It hadn’t been the first time she had broken up a fight between children, and definitely not the first one broken up between siblings. She had learned these past years that a sibling could be someone's greatest asset or someone’s very downfall. She had always wondered what it would have been like, to have a little shadow to teach and play with, but these years had reflected a rather different light on her pre-teen pipedream. Stanford had become another blight in a bright dream of hers. 

So, she doesn’t hesitate to reach into their tussle, separating them between her wingspan, her feet dug into the snow and ice of the road. The street lamp had reflected weird lights on the dark snow before, but the image of the children standing in front of her flashing headlights now drove her to her knees. 

They breathed separately now, the object they had fought valiantly over sat between them. Before her sat a slightly dented but sleek tape measurer. But that truly wasn’t what drew her attention. The feel and grasp of each of the children's shoulders grounded her, the heat of them spoke of their reality. 

They shared faces. They had no coats on, no boots on, and no gloves on. They looked to have popped directly here from some sort of vacation, their skin tan, their freckles distinct along the bridges of their noses. But they looked much the same. 

They shared eyes too, each looking confused from her, back to each other. They seemed to cool off, their breaths even now, the chill of the night seemingly seeping into their bones now, as their teeth chattered slightly. Stilled under her hands, their shared confusion at being caught, at being seen, passed back and forth between them now. 

She looks from each one, not being able to restrain both and keep an eye on both at the same time. First the girl under her left hand, her hair tousled and her stickered skin shining under the headlights. She looked at her confused, eyes clouded, like she was realizing something, like placing a piece of a puzzle.

She looks to her right, the boy wore his emotions plainly. His hair tousled also, and his pine tree hat tumbled off in the snow long ago. He looks contemplative and deeply guilty about something she could not piece. Like he was living his mistakes as he stood before her, and felt guilt when he tucked his face closer to her hand. 

She can’t stand to turn her face for a fourth time, doesn’t want to think about turning her head to and fro and having one of them disappear while her neck is turned. The fading of their visage on some dark horizon line. So she drags them together, bringing her wingspan to have the siblings meet side by side again. Their silly argument, forgotten on the ground between their feet. 

She must look a certain way. Perhaps it’s the tilt of her head or the quickness of her breath that gives away her clear understanding of them. She knows them. Had placed them in countless daydreams and nightmares. Recurring dreams (visions) that have wracked her head since she settled into this lonely Oregon town. She would know them in a crowded room, and in the dark of night. They shared her Stan’s deep-set eyes and streaks of stubbornness. 

She never imagined they were real, though. Thought it was a bandaid her brain had conjured up to quantify the numerous oddities in her life. Thought her mind twisted her nightmares and wishes into a litany of these children, threaded her desires into images and a realness she could not touch until now. She thought her mind had been mocking her. Had grown peaceful in her slowing madness if it meant she woke to Stanley again. Ignored alarms and forgo sleep in favor of simply wondering about the children that had seeped into her dreams. 

But they were real, or at least felt real to her. Looked real too. Reminded of the brisk wind as it tousled their matching brown hair. They both stood before her now, their matching brown eyes looking over her, confused by her visage here in the dark of this particular  night. The boy’s face looks beyond her, behind her, looking for another figure to emerge from the car. 

“W-what are you doing here?” The boy asks, not yet having shrugged her hand off his shoulder.

“I was on my way home from work.” She replies, like it’s a normal workday, like it’s a normal conversation, like it’s repetition, like it isn’t odd that the fixation of her years-long dream stands before her now. “What are you doing here?” She asks, no real scold in her voice. A litany of amusement in the brush of her voice, amusement at his typical imploring questions. (Typical?) 

The girl, who has not moved her eyes from her face, suddenly moves a piece of the puzzle behind her eyes. A flicker of some sort of recognition and excitement at having the older woman in front of her now. With a brilliant smile on her face, the girl stumbles from beneath her hand, moving forward to wrap herself closer to the woman who isn’t so mysterious now. 

“Mabel!” The boy chastises, reaching for his sister's arm to pull her away from the embrace. 

Mabel takes the boy's arm instead, bringing him forward and into the embrace they share now. A ridiculous embrace, a dangerous one. Out here in the dark of the night in the midst of the road in the middle of a blizzard. Something in her relaxed her usual anxious worrying though, with both of them folded into her embrace. Like somewhere in some universe in some time, they had done this before. That the puzzle pieces behind the girls' eyes were them somehow.

That the children knew who she was. And somehow, she knew them. 

She didn’t think to reason it out beyond that at the moment. The impossibility of the illusion of them didn’t falter her in the white blurry of the snow. It felt disproportional and ignorantly stupid in the face of the improbability of their appearance. But they felt real under her arms, as real as the coldness seeping through her pants. Warm and whole under her arms now, able to scoop the entirety of what she believed to be a dream into her body now. 

The boy's mind was always a whirlwind though, never restful and flightful, unpredictable like the scattering of the snow and wind around them. He nudges back from her embrace, tucking his head back and into the wind again to truly look at her flushed and nipped face. 

His eyes widened, noting the tearfulness of her eyes, the wet tracks around her cheeks. She hadn't noticed, hadn’t cared about raining in her emotions when it came to them. He looks at her like Stanley does at times, the quirk of his head and the squint of those same dark eyes. Like he can’t place her emotions, but can place the rest of her entirely. 

“How?” He says, the rest of the question held in the air between them. How does she know them? Why does she recognize them? Is that what this is? 

She knows them not to be a complete figment of her imagination. Suddenly made real, despite everything in this world contradicting as such. 

But in all her seeping dreams, she remembers distinctly that this one in particular is set farther into the future. That there are indications, and blurs, in her dream that hint at the dreams being beyond vague premonitions, rather than a living of the current reality. That and Stan’s demeanor in these wishful far of dreams usually acted more… well more familiar with her than he does now. Act in ways that woke her abruptly now, shamefully not wanting to dream of him in such an intimate way while he lies so closely. 

So in some impossible way, beyond her current comprehension, how could they stand in front of her now. That if, for some reason, they were real, then how could they possibly be here? Here, in her current present, if they were from her distant future?

The unrestful thoughts strike her the same way the boy’s seem to also. Which inevitably sends her on another whirlwind of thought. If the children were a figment of her imagination, a concoction of wishfully wanted familial pictures, a piece of some manipulative puzzle in her own mind, then there should be no concern from the boy. Because they were not wholly real. Until now. But if this figment of some small-version of Stan was so very concerned, struck by her image and pulling himself away from her arms like she burned then how could she argue her case in sanity in the end of all this?

The boy brushed back, flung  himself from her arms and fell quickly back into the snow. He looked scared, scared of her. Scared of what followed in her wake. Because in his mind, it made complete sense how he would recognize her. But it shook something in his core when she reached forward to brush her fingers through his tangled hair, away from his forehead to reveal the scattering of stars across his brow. It had him moving, pulling the back of his twins’ sweater, away from the embrace of the woman they both knew. Has him reaching for the tape measurer again when she finally calls his name in the flash of their exit from this time to the very next. 

Because they hadn’t been born yet. Because in 1980-something his mother was a child. 

Because how could she possibly know his name? 

And who was Stanley? 

The thirty minutes had come and gone quickly. 

Stan truly hadn’t bothered to take off his boots and coat since he put them on thirty minutes prior when his doc’ called. Because although he believed in all her abilities, the ability to drive through a record-breaking snow-storm with no state sanctioned training or driver license, left him fitful by the front door. 

But when he made promises to her he rarely broke them. Unless it was to prove a point of course. But they both didn’t play games when it came to the cold now. 

He made it out the door (truthfully) 2 minutes early. He had spent a time clearing out an adequate spot to put the car an hour prior. Looking at the almost-covered spot now had him trudging through the snow early. She was always too tactful though, he smiled to himself, she’d probably curse him out for spoiling the extra 2 minutes she had. 

He thought nothing of it now, out here in the dark with only a shitty compass his brother had left behind, a flashlight, and the driving force of getting her safely home. 

He had been following the overhead lamp-light of the street lights for a while now. Trudging through the driveway was the worst of course, but he didn’t imagine she would have trouble remembering where to turn to their house. The huge Mystery-Shack sign pointed well enough to the direction of their cabin now. Even if it was eerily covered in snow and the dark. 

It had him stumbling, running without the flashlight and compass, to see his car and her form collapsed under said lamp-light. 

She was curled into herself, her knees folded under her body, her face sheltered into the snow away from the wind. Her coat open, and her gloves gone- like she had stumbled out of the car for something. Like she saw something out here. 

“Hun’!” His yell has her flinching upwards, her arms curled around her body against the cold. Her face flushed from the wind, and the unspeakable tracks of never-ending tears from her eyes. 

He thinks nothing of falling to his own knees, grasping and reaching for her over wind and snow. He can hear her over the endless gale, her own howl's disappearing into the snow and the forest beyond. 

“No, no, no.” He hums, his hands running up and down her back, the spring of worry about the cold and her condition having him moving again. It’s too loud out here now. The wind picks him up, has him curving his arm around the bend of her cold and sodden knees to pick her up. 

Her arm curls into her body, the other grasping and reaching for the hem of the collar of his coat. Some comfort in being so very despondent in front of him and it not shaking his resolve to simply care for her despite it. 

Because she can’t breathe. 

He folds her body into the passenger side of the car. Cursing and thanking God that the car remained on. If the car shut off he was unsure if it’d restart in these temperatures. 

He takes another look at his surroundings before getting into the driver's side. No tracks, no evidence of anything that would pull her out into the street like that. Nothing he could conjure up in his mind that would have her stuck in the snow breathless and freezing. 

She’s shivering in the passenger's seat, and he instinctually pulls her into his side, into the middle of the seat. Buckles be damned, he’d drive slow but he sure as shit needed to get her home. 

She tucks her face close to him, timid now, still sniffling from the cold and the wracking sobs that overtook her not even minutes before. His simple presence calmed anything that stirred within her now. She sags, exhausted by her train of thoughts, resolute in what she needs to confide in him now. 

Because in a way he knows. He has known of her fitful dreams and triangular shadows that creeped into corners of her mind now. She had been too ashamed up until now, to confide in him about it all. Confide in him about… about them. 

Because before it was simply a figment of what she believed she wanted. But now she knew parts of it existed out there, in some plane of existence. The twin’s were that simple existence, the girls warm embrace case enough and the scattering of stars across the boys brow that she just knew were there was case enough. 

She was scared of the bigger things though. The monsters she had seen and the twisted dreams of death and loss. But wasn’t it better if Stan knew? If he knew of the danger to come? If they could prevent some of it? 

Or was she playing into something far more sinister than her twisted mind could conjure up? 

It has her sagging closer to Stan. Touching her face close to his shoulder and neck, letting her eyes droop at the heat and scent of him had her relaxing her hands more. They had been clenched before, her nails sore in the palm of her hands. She brings them up now, uncurling them to turn Stan’s face to her as he parks the car right outside their warm waiting home. 

Her hand turns his face, curving her sore palm around his jaw to his chin. 

He looks at her, so similarly. Like something she remembers from a dream. His eyes deep, a contemplative look to them. A deep concern and quirk of his brow has her pushing her hand up his face to settle his furrowed brow. 

He was always so worried about her. Always looking at her with this frustratingly endearing look. His dark eyes drawn to her in every room, in every setting. And she was always so worried about him. Even now, she complated telling him about everything that transpired in her mind, in those fitful dreams. She fears reliving some of them, of reliving the death of the children she now holds dear. That she somehow knows so well. 

There is one part of the dreams though, that she'd love to make a reality. 

Parts of it they live now. The domesticity they share is undeniable. They flit and work around each other so well. The simple affections they share also, the mornings and coffee’s he makes, to wake beside him is sometimes the best part of her day. Some days she goes the whole day waiting for darkness to creep across the horizon line, just so she could tuck herself close to him. 

They even shared a last name. 

Who were they kidding, truly? 

There is just one thing they don’t share, she thinks. Her hand moves back to his strong jaw again, her fingers thumbing the edge of his lips. She looks back to his eyes again, and the flutter that begins behind her chest at his shaded look has her gasping as he moves his warm hand to cradle her own face too. 

She leans deep into his palm, her eyes still trained on his as he leans as close as he dares. Before the quirk of his lip has her palm shaking to her chest to circle over her staggering heart. 

“May I?” 

She thinks nothing and everything when she surges forward, silencing his inquisition completely. 

She had dreamed of him, and longed for him for what felt like ages now. Touches and looks passed back and forth like some sort of game. But it was so easy to sum up the parts of him to her now, so easy for her to lilt and bend to him. It wasn’t some game now, she resolved, and she was resolute in living life more truthfully with him now too. Starting with not denying herself anything he ever offered her again. Especially if it was this. Something that still terrified her racing heart even now. 

He is wholly warm, his palm warm along her jaw and neck. It grasps her entirely, curving her head to the side to angle her lips to his, pulling her forward to swallow the noise she makes in surprise at her own instinctual action. 

She had dreamed of it of course, kissing Stan like this. But something about kissing him for the first time, she is glad she never dreamed of it. She didn’t simply want to relive it, she didn’t want it to end. 

His lips moved in a certain cadence, not too slow to call this all consuming kiss a simple peck, but fast enough to have her breathing heavily, having him tilt his head more to the side to slot himself all the more closer to her. 

He nips at her purposefully, his mouth working to dance along hers. She continues in like, opening up to allow air to pass between them. Their breaths heavier with every passing moment. 

His other hand found the curve of her waist, a warm trail from her thigh to her hip to the curve of her ribs. He hooks his arm around her now, and she tries not to think about how he moves her so easily to curl up on his lap, the steering wheel behind her. 

His enthusiastic onslaught has her being pushed back, her back arching along the curve of the wheel. His hand curves around her jaw again to pull her away from his lips only for a moment, for him to give her that frightful dark look again before they flicker to her lips again. It gives her only a moment of solace to find resolve in the future she has chosen. To feel only a flicker of guilt in having tied Stanley to her once again. 

She figures he perhaps wouldn’t mind much, this time. 

She breathes, sitting forward in his lap. His lips curve again, not in that suave way, but in that frightfully giddy way. The way she imagines she looks now. His eyes still carry that weight, that dark look of what she now knows is a conjuring of want and abortion. She brings her hands back to his face again, and he turns his face to kiss the center of her sore palm. She didn’t want that look to disappear from his eyes, but she could not continue to explain away a part of herself if it meant a future alongside Stan. 

She sighs, her brow creased. 

“There’s something I have to talk to you about.” 

[gyllenhaalstuff]

haii :33

idk if u do mlm or not, but I think mlm Donnie D. or Pilot K. fics would be awesome :33 (sorry this is so awkward I've never asked sum1 sumthing b4

I got you. Never written mlm before tho, so I’m in unknown territory.

Helping out

- Donnie Darko x M Reader ᡣ𐭩

Summary: Your best friend Donnie wonders if he likes buys and you agree to let him explore it with you

Warnings: Internalised homophobia, oral, handjobs, masturbation, bottom!reader, top!Donnie, unprotected sex, anal sex.

Word count: 1670~

Notes: I can’t write 20+ minutes of prep so no, this isn’t realistic.

────୨ৎ────

Another Friday night spent at your best friend’s house. Perhaps a bit sad that this is what 18 was for you. All your classmates were probably out drinking, fucking, and God knows what else.

At least you had Donnie, so you didn’t have to be lonely by yourself. Instead of sulking, you two would play video games, stuff your faces with sugar and Red 40, and sneak out of Donnie’s window to smoke on the roof.

Playing Street Fighter with Donnie was basically a death wish. That boy was not only the most obnoxious winner but also the worst loser. You didn’t mind taking a few nudges and/or hits from him.

“Ouch! What was that for?” you hissed at Donnie’s hit on your arm. “For beating me,” he stated, but didn’t press rematch. “I can’t play anymore; my eyes are gonna pop out of my head.” You chuckled and almost choked on your Twizzler. “What else should we do?”

You expected Donnie to suggest getting high or playing another game, but he had other plans. “Have you ever had sex?” Well, this was unexpected, but he seemed serious. “Uh, yeah, once,” you hesitantly responded, “with Jasmine.” Jasmine, or Jas as her nickname had been, was your ex-girlfriend. It didn’t last long, but you got some experience points from it. “No, I know about Jas,” Donnie swallowed. “I mean with a guy.” You were a bit startled by his question, but most of all confused. “I’m not gay?” Was all you could muster. Sure, sometimes you saw a man and thought, ‘he could have me any day’ but everyone had thoughts like that. You had never acted on them anyway.

“Cause I’ve been thinking,” Donnie continued, “maybe I don’t like girls.” You were surprised by his confession, not cause you thought he was straight; you just never thought he’d say it out loud. “Well, that’s cool with me, you know,” you stammered unsurely, but Donnie looked lost in his thoughts. “I just wish I could see what it’s like.” You didn’t fully know how to respond. The silence lingered for a bit. 

Your mind was spinning with questions. Was he asking you to sleep with him? Was he just thinking out loud? Would you sleep with Donnie as a kind, friendly gesture? Where would you even draw the line?

“If this is what you’re asking for, you can try some things with me, but I’m not having sex with you,” you huffed. It felt like you had to push each word out of your mouth. But your heart lightened when Donnie’s eyes lit up. “You would?” He began fidgeting, playing with the seam of his jeans. “Dude, you’re my best friend. My only friend, in fact. I wanna help out,” you stated. It was important for you to underline that this was an act of friendship, not attraction.

Donnie shifted uncomfortably on the rug beneath him. “Okay, uh,” he stumbled over his words, “what can I do?” You thought for a moment, didn’t figure anything out, and just decided to draw a random line anyway. “As long as our clothes stay on.” Donnie looked pleased with it.

His lips pressed against yours, and you prayed to God the feeling that washed over you was a stroke and not a sexual awakening. Donnie parted his lips, and for some reason, you did the same. This was a time for helping out, not self-interrogation. He deepened the kiss and snaked one of his hands to your hair, tangling his fingers in your locks. A light pull of your hair sent shivers down your spine, and you hated that it did. You hated it even more when a weak, whimpering noise slipped from your lips. Though Donnie didn’t seem to mind; instead, it seemed to spur him on. 

He scooted to sit in front of you, not breaking the kiss. You felt a hand on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the rug. You didn’t resist. Later you would wonder why you didn’t, but your mind had checked out for the time being. All that existed was Donnie’s tongue in your mouth, his legs straddling your hips and his hands fumbling and touching your clothed torso.

You tried to ignore your blood rushing to your crotch, how you were actually getting into this. But Donnie didn’t. He pulled away from the kiss and smiled, “You’re hard.” He seemed thrilled and proud. You were the opposite, but he was right; you were getting really turned on. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” you mumbled, as an attempt to save yourself from the situation. “I do,” Donnie smiled before ending the conversation by bringing his lips to yours.

It didn’t help how Donnie was beginning to grind against your straining cock. You were getting unsure of how you were going to end this. You didn’t want to have sex with a guy, but right now sex with Donnie didn’t seem like such a bad option. You let go of some of your apprehensions and slipped a hand under Donnie’s shirt. His breath hitched, probably from surprise. His skin felt warm and soft. Grappling his waist made you want to take his shirt off. You decided not to fight it.

You began pulling it off of him. “Isn’t this against your rule?” he grinned, as if his plan all along was to prove something to you instead of himself. “Forget about the rule,” you shook your head and finally smiled. Once his shirt was off, he seemed keen on doing the same to you. And you weren’t a hypocrite, so you let him.

You were both turning into a mess, grinding against each other, before Donnie sat up. “Can’t we just fuck?” He looked so good like that, hair all tousled and lips red and swollen. You had no choice.

The bed was a much nicer surface to be on, though Donnie decided to stay on the floor, sitting on his knees. His hands began unbuckling your belt. Your head repeated how this was wrong and how you shouldn’t be doing this over and over, but it only seemed to turn you on more. 

His pale hands wrapped around your cock and pulled it out of your underwear. Your face flushed in embarrassment, but Donnie didn’t waste any time before putting his mouth on you. His tongue swirled around your tip, and you hated how this felt better than any blowjob Jas had ever given you. Your knuckles were turning white as you held onto Donnie’s sheets, your hair falling in your face as you looked down on your friend. 

He released you, saliva ran down his chin, and he took out his own cock. You hated how hot it looked, Donnie jerking himself off in front of you. He then climbed onto the bed with you and ordered you to lie down. You didn’t know what to expect. But suddenly it dawned on you what gay sex meant: getting fucked in the ass.

“Won’t this hurt?” You asked, growing nervous. Donnie spit on your cock before stroking it along with his own, earning a muffled moan from you. “We’ll find out,” he smiled, “I’ll try my best to be patient.”

Donnie released you from his grasp and stuck two fingers in his mouth, coating them in saliva. He then lowered them to your ass, swirling them around your hole. You didn’t know how many nerve endings existed there before he touched you. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” he said earnestly before inserting one of his fingers into you. It felt weird, but not baffling necessarily. He went a bit further in before curling his finger, hitting a spot that made your cock twitch. He grinned at the sight.

He slipped in another finger and set a pace of thrusting them into you and curling them up towards your pelvis. This new feeling had moans spilling out of you, which had never happened before in this quantity. It felt like you were constantly on the brink of an orgasm; maybe you just needed more to get there.

“I’m ready,” you stated eagerly. Donnie raised an eyebrow at you in return, “You sure?” You nodded insistently, just wanting to cum. 

Donnie didn’t argue with you on that. Instead, he lined up against you before slowly pushing himself into you. His mouth hung open as you swallowed his cock. It would be a lie to say it wasn’t painful. In fact, it hurt a lot. You gritted your teeth and clenched your fist to get through it, and you did. Once he began moving and hitting your spot, the pain slowly started disappearing, pleasure taking its place.

Donnie mumbled all the names for God he knew and all the swear words he could think of. There was no doubt in his mind now about which way he swayed. There was also no doubt about who he liked. His heart had grown its own boner (I’m sorry I had to).

His hand went to stroke you again, making a drop of pre-cum drip down on your stomach. Who cares if this locked you out of heaven? You were already there. 

Your thighs clenched, and your moans grew whiny as you neared your climax. Donnie spat on your cock, making his hand move quicker. You let out an embarrassingly high-pitched moan as you came. Donnie stilled his hand and watched your cum paint your skin. 

He finished not long after, cumming inside of you with a whimper. He stayed in you for a bit as you both tried to get your heart rates down and breath back. You hissed as he pulled out. Donnie laid next to you; you both stared at the ceiling, wondering what just happened, post-nut clarity setting in. 

“Did this clear things up for you?” you asked, hoping this wasn’t all for nothing. “Yeah,” he mumbled back, “I liked it.” You tried your best not to smile.

“I didn’t hate it either.”

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field XIII

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation (both of them lowkey)

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)

series masterlist

You think you might die from this heat. The ice bag that Coryo brought you only lasted so long, especially when you shared it with the covey, which cut its window of efficacy in half. Both of you trailed behind everyone on the way to the lake, besides for Maude Ivory who found a very comfortable spot on Coryo's back. You should have thought to buy her some new shoes before the several-hour hike, but you didn't think that would be of consequence.

"How is Sejanus?" You ask, making conversation as you wipe the sweat from your brow. You'd like to gauge if Coryo knew anything more about your mutual friend's habit of hanging around with the wrong people.

"He's... yeah. He's fine." Coryo sighs, adjusting his hold on Maude Ivory's legs around his waist as he steps over a tree root.

"You don't sound so sure." You laugh, tilting your head up at him.

The bruise on your cheek wasn't red anymore, now healing into a yellowish hue that Coryo could hardly tear his eyes away from. He wishes you were still in the habit of wearing makeup every day, then he wouldn't have to stare down the result of his failure every time he looked at you. He shakes his head. "Well, I'll tell you about it later."

You just nod, looking down at the ground in front of you to make sure you don't trip. Now it was your turn to wish that the two of you could talk about what's going on between you. Whatever Sejanus is up to with Billy Taupe reminded you that even though you're far away from the chains of the Capitol, you still weren't entirely free. Even if now it was just free of the prying ears of a little blonde girl who loved to talk. "If you could change one thing about your routine right now, what would it be?" You ask, looking up at him again and squinting at the sun as it breaks through the trees above you.

Coryo draws his head back for a moment, confusion washing over his features at the seemingly random question. "Uh, everything. Next question."

"Ah-ah," You shake your head, hair falling into your face which you quickly pull back again. "Only one thing."

"Okay, fine." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Um... not sure, honestly. Maybe I'd have more success trapping those damn Mockingjays." He grumbles, looking up into the treeline.

You laugh, rubbing over the mostly healed scratches on your arms. "Nothing yet, huh?" Up until the point that you forgave him, you had gone out every night for almost a week, having learned a better system for opening the traps that didn't result in them cutting up your arms with their claws. Not so much as a thank you from the birds that apparently could speak, until you had started to thank yourself every time you reached around the side of the traps to open the metal, just so they would echo it back to you. You knew it was crazy, but it had become a fun semblance of a normal routine.

"Not one. Hardly any Jabberjays either, we think someone was setting them free in the night, they were easier to trap at first." He replies, smiling at you despite his frustrations about it. He couldn't wait until they could catch enough for Dr. Kay so he could start shooting them instead. "Rebels, most likely."

"That's annoying." You laugh, trying to hide the nervousness in your tone. "Why would they care about some birds?" It was a stupid question to pose, to poke holes in his only theory when it didn't already point back to you.

"They're hardly more than animals themselves." He grumbles, shrugging. "No, actually, I'd probably spend more time with you, if I could." He changes his answer and effectively, the topic as well. At this, Maude Ivory lifts her head from his shoulder.

"Are you guys in love?" She asks, turning her head so she can look at you now.

"Oh, no." Your cheeks burn as you laugh, shaking your head. "It's complicated big kid business, Maude Ivory."

"That's enough." Coryo chuckles nervously, spinning her on his hip and carefully putting her down. "Go bother the others."

The girl giggles, walking backward in front of you with her shoes in her hand. "It's why, I love you, you're as pure as the driven-" She starts to sing a song you were writing with Lucy Gray, knowingly taunting you, but you're quick to cut her off.

"Hey! Don't!" You laugh quickly, pretending to push her forward so she'll run along. "They've got some thin walls in that house..." You chuckle quietly, avoiding his gaze as you watch her run up ahead.

After a few moments of silence, Coryo speaks again. "What about you? What would you change?"

"Can I be uncreative and say the same thing as you?" You ask, cheeks still red.

"Sure." He nods slightly, a small smile on his face.

"Great, because those birds are starting to get on my nerves." You joke, bumping your shoulder against his arm.

He smiles, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I hate you too."

"Oh, hush. You know I love you." You freeze up as soon as you say it, suddenly it holds a lot more weight to it than your typical friendly banter.

At that, Coryo drapes his arm over your shoulder with a satisfied smile, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

"Can you tell me about Sejanus, now?" You ask, head placed on Coryo's lap as you lay on the dock. You had been out of the water for a little while, now, utilizing the sun to dry your wet hair and skin.

He looks back up to the cabin, seeing Lucy Gray and the rest of the covey scattered and picking plants or lying in the grass. "Uh, he just keeps sneaking off, and I found a good bit of money in his locker, but he told me he was broke so... I don't know what he's up to."

You sigh. "I've seen him hanging around Billy Taupe a lot. They're a sketchy crowd in the nicest of terms."

"Well, he is district. It doesn't surprise me that he'd associate with them." Coryo explains, distracted in a weak attempt at braiding a small section of your hair.

"He's gonna get himself killed." You mutter, eyes closed to block out the sun. You couldn't tell Coriolanus about how you ran into Sejanus a couple of weeks ago, knowing he would ask questions about why you were out at that time too. It's easier to lie to Sejanus than to him.

"It's not our problem if we stay out of it." Coryo tries to ease your mind.

"We can't just stand by and watch, though. It'll eat my conscience alive if something were to happen to him."

Coriolanus looks down at you, watching your calm expression form into something resembling worry. He chews on the inside of his cheek and nods to himself. He would have to do something, if Sejanus ended up getting in some kind of trouble, the guilt of knowing without acting will kill you. "Okay. I'll figure something out. I'll get him to keep his distance." He promises.

Days had passed since that interaction, and Coriolanus is crippled by the fear that he made a horrible mistake. He got the full story from Sejanus, and it was worse than he pictured.

You liked Sejanus, at least you acted like it when he was around. Coriolanus could always see that the district-born boy meant something to you, even if it was unclear based on the way you spoke about him when he wasn't present. Him running off into the woods with a bunch of derelect rebels was far from a viable option, Coriolanus wouldn't have it. He couldn't risk your reaction knowing that he told you he would do something to intervene.

He needed to talk to you. You were the only one he could trust to tell about the Capitol-bound recording he sent off of Sejanus' confession, or the news that his family had been kicked out of their apartment back home. He wasn't even sure he wanted to tell you. Coryo had been fighting this internal battle for what felt like ages, so maybe he could just include the basics, leave out his actions, and let you lift some of the tensions from his shoulders by telling him it would be okay. That it would all be over soon, and that you're proud of him for passing his exam. He could get the two of you out of this dump by the end of next week, and he couldn't get you away fast enough.

Unfortunately for him, when he finally arrived at the Hob on his night off you were already on stage with the Covey. You were laughing, dancing and spinning, occasionally joining Maude Ivory on her hip drum while Lucy Gray sang. The crowd loved you, and you loved the attention. He'd be lying to himself if he tried to say he didn't love watching you so happy, but the timing was inconvenient at best.

Coryo found his usual spot against the wall, sitting down next to Sejanus. He wasn't about to let him out of his sight, not anymore.

"Give it up for our friends in the band!" He smiles at Maude Ivory's excessive spirit as she holds her arms out to encourage applause before her eyes lock on him. Her face lights up more, somehow, and he greets it with a nod.

She turns to you while music is slowly tuning out, and gives a slight tug on the bottom of your new dress. It had been scuffed up in your fight with Ash, but you had cleaned it up nicely- hardly a stitch was out of place.

You look down at the girl, who just gives a slight nod in the direction of the wall Coryo was sat against. "He's here, you gotta sing it now!" Maude Ivory says, loud enough so you could hear but not enough to be picked up by the mic behind her.

You look very briefly over at Coryo, shaking your head at her as your cheeks turn rosy. "He's never gonna hear it." You say, leaning down to her level. "Who even says its about him, huh?"

"You can't trick me, Sage." She giggles, pointing at your nose.

"C'mon, lets do it!" Lucy Gray chimes in encouragingly as you stand back up. "I'll play for you. All you gotta do is sing."

You roll your eyes playfully, shaking your head again. "No, I-"

"Now, welcome back for her second performance with us, Sage! She's gonna take us over for a minute here. I promise, y'all are in for a real treat." You're interrupted by Maude Ivory making the announcement for you. Internally you cuss, plastering on a nervous smile.

"It's beautiful, you gotta relax." Lucy Gray says in your ear, already adjusting her hold on her guitar. "If I can sing a breakup song to the whole country, you can sing a love song just to the folks in this room. C'mon." She smiles, nodding for you to take the mic as Maude Ivory bows you in.

You'd played this song a bunch back at the Covey's home after Lucy Gray caught you humming the abstract tune of a lullaby your mother used to sing to get you to sleep when you were little. You didn't remember a single word, but the melody was enough for her to recreate and embellish it into one of their songs, to which she insisted you help her write the words for.

Coryo is leaning forward, elbows rested on his knees as he watches you. From what he knew, you weren't much of a singer. The redness evenly spreading across your cheeks and nose in time with the intro music was evidence enough of that.

"Sing for us, sweetheart!" Someone from the crowd calls out, which is matched with whistles that force Coryo to sit up to try and get a look at who the hell is yelling at you. His jaw is seized until he hears your voice echoing through the large room, drawing his gaze back to you on the stage.

"I've taken some hits, so no wonder I'm wary. It's why I need you, you're as pure as the driven snow..."  You look over his way only briefly while you sing the first round of the chorus, trying not to let your voice catch from the nervousness still pumping through every inch of your body.

He knows it before you're finished, but the last word, the one you didn't let Maude Ivory get to on the way to the lake, makes his heart flip in his chest. The eye contact he made with you as you said his name was so heavy with everything you've ever wanted to say to one another but never had, and he completely swells with pride knowing that it was about him.

"Cold and clean, swirling over my skin..." The inclination, again, to shout to everyone that you were his girl was immense and overtaking. Just like the first time, but now he knew it for sure. He was positive."You cloak me, You soak right in, down to my heart."

By the time you render the final verse, his whole world has changed."It's why I trust you, you're as pure as the driven snow..."

I'm gonna marry her.

He's up as soon as the song is over, heading for the back of the stage as you take your bow. Your smile is wiped when you look up and he's no longer there, and neither is Sejanus. Worry pools in your insides as you scan the crowd, giving a rushed smile to Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory as you jump down. You hurry to the back of the stage, brow furrowed as you search for Coryo.

By some miracle, he's there. If you're not mistaken, he's got tears in his eyes as he strides up to you quickly, the stage lights leaking past the stage to illuminate him just enough. His pace and his intense expression only worry you more. "Is everything-" You ask frantically, only for your question to be disrupted by his actions.

Coryo takes a deep breath, and then, as soon as you're within reach, he cups your face in his hands and leans in. The world around you seems to fade as his lips meet yours in a passionate, long-awaited kiss.

Time stands still, and in that moment, everything falls into place. The worries that plagued him when he walked in completely dissolved as he felt your hair in between his fingers. When he finally pulls away, a small smile graces his face.

You're both breathing heavily as you stare at each other, and it's then that you realize he wasn't crying due to any kind of upset. He was crying because of you. With a smile so real that you could feel the sun on your back, even late at night in this dim building hundreds of miles from the comfort of your collective home.

"Coryo..." You say, smile fading as you regain perceptions of your real life.

"I know, and I have so much to tell you..." He grins, leaning down to kiss you again.

It was your turn to interrupt, pressing a hand to his chest to stop him in his tracks. Tracks you so desired to follow, wherever they may take you, but right now you had bigger concerns. "No, no it's... where is Sejanus?"

He pauses, and it's like the spell is broken as he straightens his posture, looking around as if Sejanus should be right there. "Uh... shit." He had completely forgotten about his friend as he fell under the trance of your voice, of the song you were singing to him.

You're quickly out from under his arms, walking back around the side of the stage to go look for your friend.

"Coryo-" You stop, and he's right on your heels as you turn back to him, pointing toward the back wall. "Go check the bar. Keep an eye out for Billy Taupe. Obviously. He's probably with him." You instruct and he nods to you quickly before beginning to push his way through all the drunk people in the crowd.

You try and scan the sea of faces, but you don't see Sejanus anywhere. The music the Covey is playing is loud, drowning out any hopes you had of being able to shout for the boy. You could follow Coryo in the search, but that would no doubt just waste time. You groan, pushing your hair back out of your face in frustration. You shouldn't have stopped Coryo from kissing you again, if Sejanus wants to be reckless you should just let him. The two of you already saved his life once, was that not enough for him?

You glance down the deserted hallway to your right, and then your feet are carrying you toward the back room in an instant. You turn the corner and push the sliding door open when you hear shouting coming from the other side. "What the fuck is going on?" You ask, eyes flitting between Sejanus, and the two other boys in the room, alongside a girl who who you vaguely recognize.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, turning back to you quickly.

"Y/N..." The girl mutters to herself, rolling the name around in her mind and on her tongue. You can see it in the way she's looking at you. You ignore it, eyes locked on your friend now.

"I told you to not get involved in things you shouldn't, didn't I? Didn't Coryo?" You scold him, gesturing to the door.

"It's not- I didn't know they were going to buy weapons! It's not what I wanted, they told me the money was only for supplies, that no one would get hurt!"

"These are supplies." Billy Taupe's friend, Spruce, replies.

"Why would you trust them!" You spit, pointing vaguely at the other people in the room.

"Listen, Princess-" Billy Taupe starts, a bitter taste to his tone just as the door slides open again. Coryo's frame is blocking your view of the boy in a second, tucking you carefully behind his back.

"Talk to me. Not her." He hisses, and you grab his arm. The feeling of his skin under your palms is comforting, warm, and tense in your grip. "What are you doing, guns, Sejanus?" He turns his attention to your classmate.

"Coriolanus, I didn't know this is what they would do, they lied to me-" Sejanus starts his pleads for help again on a separate set of ears.

Unsurprisingly, his response is almost identical to yours. "You thought they would be honest? What are you doing? There are peacekeepers right outside!"

"That's what I said." You mumble in exasperated agreement "Why did you even give them money at all?" You ask, hoping to get some answers.

"Sejanus wants to run off with these dimwits into the woods up north," Coryo explains to you.

"What?" You ask, shocked, looking past him at the boy you've known for years. The thought of never seeing him again pulls at your heartstrings in a way you're unfamiliar with. "You can't. Absolutely not."

"You're not my Ma, Y/N!" Sejanus spits.

"Wait, I know you." The girl cuts in, pointing at you. "You're that missing girl. From the Capitol. Y/N Y/L/N. My dad got a call about you!"

You freeze up at the accusation, biting your tongue as you look up at Coryo. A memory flashes in your mind, that's why you recognize her. She's the girl who Lucy Gray dropped a snake on in the reaping- the mayor's daughter. "Huh?" You ask, trying to look as confused as possible.

"Don't play dumb, we're past that." She scoffs and you just shake your head.

"Genuinely, don't know what you're talking about." You relax your posture, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Well," She sighs, shrugging sarcastically. "I'll go tell my dad where you are. Your family sure is missin' you..." She starts to take a few steps before the back exit and you clench your jaw at her smug smile. You want to rip the hair out of her head and throw her body in the lake to rot.

"Mayfair, you can't leave." Billy Taupe scolds her, grabbing her arm which she quickly yanks away.

"This is ridiculous and confusing, and you act like I don't see the way you still look at Lucy Gray! Why don't you take her with you instead, huh?"

"She is coming, isn't she?" Spruce asks, seeming just as confused as you in a completely opposite way.

"You were bringing Lucy Gray?!" Mayfair shouts, shaking her head at her (now presumably) ex-boyfriend.

"She said she wanted to come!" Billy Taupe defends and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Okay, so clearly there's some major communication issues in this gang of misfits you've found, Sejanus, so let's just go and leave them to it. It won't benefit you to be stuck in the wilderness with a bunch of starving idiots who will kill each other in a week if they get too lazy to hunt." You plead with him and he shakes his head at you.

"Y/N, wait-" Coryo says, looking back at you only briefly.

"Yeah, Capitol Princess is right. I'm out." Mayfair says, raising her hands in defeat and turning to leave. "You'll all hang for this!"

"This power trip you have about your father being the mayor pales in comparison to what my family has. You'll all be dead by the morning if you say a word." You tell her, voice calm as she freezes, turning to look back at you.

"She's all talk, she won't tell anyone." Billy Taupe tries to defend her from the tensions rising in the room. You were concerned about getting sent home, of course, but if she told about their plans to run, everyone in the room would be executed come the morning light.

"Oh, you think I'm scared of you, Sage? You think I won't tell? Ask Lucy Gray." She's right, Lucy Gray had told you about how this girl was responsible for the reaping being rigged to result in Lucy Gray's death in the games. What they never accounted for was her strength, her intelligence, and her having Coriolanus Snow and Y/N Y/L/N as mentors.

And how Lucy Gray became a victor, known initially to most of the Capitol for her similarities to you. Only, Lucy Gray wasn't bat shit crazy.

Coryo's mind is reeling at the threat made to you as the girl starts to walk away. Within a second, before you can even make a move to tackle her, he's reaching onto the table and grabbing one of the guns. He lines up quickly and squeezes the trigger, letting the bullet fly square into the center of the girl's back. His training had paid off sooner than he thought. Coriolanus wasn't about to have you caught, sent back to a home much worse than that safety hazard at the edge of the Seam where you're currently staying.

"Mayfair!" Billy Taupe is quickly at the girls side, but she's already dead. Sejanus is shaking, and you are fighting back the smile that threatens to form on your lips despite the stress of the moment. "What have you done?" He screams at your friend.

"She was gonna get us all killed!" You defend. "You should be thanking him! Trust me, she was nothing special."

"You've got something comin', Capitol boy." He says, shaking his head as he looks up at the two of you, hatred filling his eyes. "You think you're gonna blame me for this? That you'll never get caught?"

You resist the urge to just shrug, agreeing that no, probably not. Undeniably, your best move would be to blame him. "He was defending all of us, can you not get that through your thick skull?" You settle on, keeping your footing as level as possible as Coryo pulls you back closer to his side again.

"If I swing, for this you will with me!" He screams in anger, back on his feet and moving quickly towards you as Coryo shoves you back behind him, lining up again. He didn't have to shoot, though, because Spruce does. The boy's body flings into the wall to the left of you from the force of the impact, slumping against the floor.

Your heart is pounding as you look between your two friends. "Sejanus, are you alright?" You ask, trying to approach him as Coryo starts shouting orders at Spruce to get rid of the guns.

"Hey, he's fine." Coryo grabs your arm, pulling you close to him to look at you. "I'm gonna handle this. Get back out there and sing, play the violin, just do something, okay?"

You glance back at Sejanus again, who is clearly panicking so bad he looks like he might faint. "No, I'm not leaving you, and Sejanus-"

"Sejanus is fine." Coryo says again sternly, shaking your shoulders now as he looks into your eyes. "Go back out there. I will handle this. I'll find you soon." He promises, gently pushing you in the way of the door. "Go. Now."

You swallow the anxiety sitting uncomfortably in the back of your throat and nod, glancing only briefly at your friends before you leave, closing the door quickly behind you.

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

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just can't tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

[amethystarachnid]

I didn't know I needed to see Tony with a teenage daughter until I saw Tony with a teenage daughter... I need to see him meeting Ryan 😂😂😂😂😂😂 and the twins overprotective over their sis 😂 can you consider writing another part of Christmas Morning?

CHRISTMAS MORNING - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.1k

ᯓ★ Summary: how will Tony react when your teenage daughter gets her first boyfriend?

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ Part I | Part III

ᯓ★ prequel

ᯓ★ Guys I love the fluff but idk why but I feel the need to write some angst in this story, maybe a break up between Cora and Ryan? Is teen pregnancy too much (I know this is a serious topic and I would write it the most respectful way possible) ? let me know if you would like a part 3!

ᯓ★ Tony Taglist: @groovy-lady

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The warm breeze of a late spring afternoon drifts through the open windows of the Stark home, carrying the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass. You’re in the kitchen, cutting up fruit for the twins’ snack, while Tony tinkers with a small project at the counter—a habit he claims is "relaxation." Estelle toddles around the room, clutching her unicorn toy and babbling happily, her words a mix of toddler nonsense and surprising clarity.

In the midst of the gentle chaos, the sound of footsteps descending the stairs draws your attention. When you look up, your jaw nearly drops.

Cora stands in the doorway, dressed in a pale lavender sundress with delicate straps that rest on her shoulders. Her dark hair is pinned back in a loose bun, with a few strands falling artfully around her face. She’s wearing a touch of makeup, just enough to highlight her features, and there’s a faint blush on her cheeks that’s definitely not from cosmetics.

“Wow,” you say, setting down the knife and leaning against the counter. “Look at you.”

Cora fidgets, smoothing the skirt of her dress. “Is it…too much?”

“It’s perfect,” you assure her, smiling warmly.

Tony, who has been completely absorbed in his work, glances up at your words. The second he sees Cora, he freezes, his wrench clattering onto the countertop.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?” he demands, his voice tinged with both awe and confusion.

Cora groans, crossing her arms. “Dad, don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything,” Tony says, standing and gesturing toward her outfit. “I’m just—since when do you wear dresses? I thought dresses were the enemy. Like, you’ve had an anti-dress campaign going since you were five.”

Cora shrugs, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t know. Being with Ryan just…makes me feel different. Like, it’s okay to try stuff like this.”

Tony’s mouth opens, then closes. He looks at you, as if searching for confirmation that the world hasn’t completely turned upside down. You give him a subtle nod, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay,” he says, turning back to Cora. “You look…nice. But—”

“Here we go,” Cora mutters, bracing herself.

“—but,” Tony continues, holding up a finger, “if you’re going out dressed like that, you need to be prepared. Do you have a jacket? Because it’s going to get chilly later. And what about shoes? Those sandals don’t look like they’re great for walking. Also—”

“Tony,” you interject, placing a hand on his arm. “Let her breathe.”

“I’m just saying,” he protests, ignoring you and turning back to Cora, “you should text us when you get there. And when you leave. And if anything feels off—”

“I know, I know,” Cora interrupts, rolling her eyes but smiling despite herself. “I’ve got it, Dad. You don’t have to give me the full lecture.”

“Of course I do,” Tony says, crossing his arms. “It’s my job. That’s in the Dad Manual, chapter one.”

“Pretty sure the manual says not to embarrass your daughter,” Cora quips, grabbing her small purse from the counter.

Tony pretends to gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Embarrass? Me? I’m the cool dad!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You’re something, that’s for sure.”

Just then, the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway makes Cora straighten, her nerves evident in the way she fiddles with the strap of her purse. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself.

“That’s him,” she says, heading toward the door.

“Hold on,” Tony says, stepping forward. “I’ll get it.”

“No!” Cora blurts out, spinning around and blocking his path. “I mean, no, thanks. I’ll…I’ll handle it.”

Tony looks deeply offended. “Why can’t I meet him? I should meet him. He’s taking my daughter out!”

“Tony,” you say, stepping in before he can escalate. “Let her go.”

He turns to you, incredulous. “Let her go? Just like that? We don’t even know this kid. What if he—”

“Tony,” you say again, placing a firm hand on his chest. “Not yet. Let’s wait a little longer, see how things go. She’ll tell us when it’s time.”

Cora shoots you a grateful look before slipping out the door, shutting it quickly behind her. Through the window, you see her walking toward Ryan’s car, her movements a mix of confidence and nerves.

Tony stands frozen, staring at the closed door like it’s betrayed him.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters, sinking into a chair. “She didn’t even let me say hi.”

“You’ll meet him,” you assure him, sitting beside him and resting a hand on his knee. “When she’s ready.”

Tony huffs, leaning back in his chair. “What’s so special about this kid anyway?”

You smile, watching as Cora climbs into the car and waves goodbye through the window. “He makes her happy. Isn’t that enough?”

Tony grumbles something unintelligible but doesn’t argue further. Instead, he reaches for Estelle, who has wandered over with her unicorn in tow. She climbs into his lap, resting her head against his chest, and Tony sighs, wrapping his arms around her.

“At least you’re not going on any dates,” he says, his voice soft.

“Corn date!” Estelle chirps, pointing to her toy.

Tony chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Close enough.”

You lean into him, smiling as you watch the car disappear down the street. Despite his bluster, you know Tony will come around eventually. For now, though, you’re content to let him be the protective dad he’s always been—and the one Cora will always need, even if she doesn’t always admit it.

Dinner in the Stark household is usually a lively affair. The twins, Alex and Howard, are never short on energy or arguments, and Estelle has recently developed the habit of throwing pieces of food just to watch everyone scramble to pick them up. Tonight, however, the mood is slightly different. The absence of Cora, who is out on her date, has shifted the usual dynamic in a way the younger kids are starting to notice.

You and Tony exchange a glance as the boys settle into their seats at the dining table. Estelle, strapped into her high chair, babbles happily, banging her sippy cup against the tray. The smell of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes fills the air, but it seems the usual buzz of conversation is slow to start.

Alex takes a bite of his roll, looking around the table before finally asking, “Where’s Cora?”

Howard, sitting across from him, pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Yeah, where is she? She’s always here for dinner.”

You open your mouth to answer, but Tony beats you to it. “Cora’s…uh, she’s out tonight.”

Howard frowns. “Out where?”

“She went to hang out with a friend,” you say gently, trying to gauge how much detail to give. The boys share a look, and you can see their wheels turning.

“A friend?” Alex repeats, suspicion lacing his voice. “What kind of friend? Like, a boyfriend friend?”

Tony visibly tenses, his grip tightening on his fork. “Who said anything about a boyfriend?” he asks a little too quickly, his tone defensive. “She’s just…hanging out.”

“Wait,” Howard says, eyes wide. “Does that mean she left us?”

You blink, startled. “No, of course not. She’s just out for a little while—”

But Howard doesn’t let you finish. His lower lip trembles, and he looks at Alex with a mix of confusion and panic. “Cora left! She’s not coming back!”

Alex gasps, dropping his roll onto his plate. “She left? Why would she do that? I thought she liked us!”

Tony sets his fork down and leans forward, trying to interject. “Guys, she didn’t leave. She’s just out—”

But the twins are already spiraling, their imaginations running wild. Alex’s face crumples, and he bursts into tears, burying his face in his hands. Howard follows suit, his sobs loud and dramatic. “She’s gone forever!” he wails, his voice breaking.

As if on cue, Estelle, who’s been watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, begins to cry as well. Her little face scrunches up, and she lets out a piercing wail, though you’re certain she has no idea what’s actually going on. She just knows her brothers are upset, and that’s enough to set her off.

You and Tony exchange a look of mild panic before springing into action. You reach for Estelle, unstrapping her from the high chair and pulling her into your arms. Tony gets up and crouches between the twins, one hand on each of their shoulders.

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” Tony says, his voice firm but kind. “Cora didn’t leave. She’s coming back. She’ll be home in a little while, okay?”

“But why isn’t she here now?” Alex sniffles, his face streaked with tears. “She’s always here!”

“She’s with a friend,” you explain again, bouncing Estelle on your hip to soothe her. “That’s all. She’ll be back later, I promise.”

Howard wipes his nose on his sleeve, still sniffling. “But what if she doesn’t come back?”

“She will,” Tony insists, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Cora loves you guys. She’d never leave for good. Right, sweetheart?” He glances up at you for backup.

“Absolutely,” you say, brushing a hand through Estelle’s curls as her cries begin to taper off. “She’s just spending a little time with someone, but this is her home. She’ll always come back to us.”

Alex hiccups, his sobs slowing. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you say, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “You’ll see her in the morning, and she’ll be the same Cora you know and love.”

Tony nods in agreement. “And she’ll probably complain about how annoying you guys are, just like she always does.”

That earns a small giggle from Alex, and Howard cracks a hesitant smile. Tony grins, ruffling their hair. “See? Everything’s fine.”

Estelle, still sniffling in your arms, mumbles something through her tears. “Cowa no go?”

“That’s right, baby,” you say softly, kissing her cheek. “Cora’s not going anywhere.”

The room slowly settles as the boys wipe their tears and Estelle leans her head against your shoulder, her little fingers gripping your shirt. Tony takes a seat again, shaking his head with a wry smile.

“Well,” he says, glancing at you, “that escalated quickly.”

“You think?” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe next time we should explain things before they jump to conclusions.”

“Good idea,” Tony agrees, reaching for his glass of water. “But hey, look at it this way—at least we know how much they love their sister.”

You laugh softly, setting Estelle back in her high chair now that she’s calmed down. “True. That was some pretty dramatic devotion.”

As the boys start eating again, their moods visibly improved, you and Tony exchange a quiet smile. It’s moments like these, chaotic as they are, that remind you just how close-knit your family is. Even when things get a little messy, the love you all share is undeniable—and that’s what matters most.

After the earlier chaos, dinner finally returns to something resembling normal, though the boys keep glancing toward the door like Cora might magically appear at any moment. Estelle is still glued to Tony’s chest, her little hands clutching at his shirt as he leans back in his chair. Despite her determination to stay awake, her eyes are fluttering shut, and every now and then she lets out a sleepy little hum.

Alex and Howard, however, are not going down so easily.

“What time is she coming back?” Alex asks for the tenth time, his voice laced with dramatic urgency.

“Her curfew is 10:30,” you remind him gently, nudging his plate of half-finished food toward him. “That’s still a couple of hours away.”

“But I wanna see her,” Howard says, stifling a yawn behind his hand. “What if she needs us?”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “What exactly is she going to need you for? Backup? Emotional support?”

“Maybe!” Alex retorts, glaring at him. “We’re her brothers! That’s our job!”

You snort, trying to hide your smile behind a sip of water. “That’s very sweet, but Cora is perfectly fine. You can see her in the morning.”

“No!” Alex says, shaking his head. “We’re staying up!”

“Yeah,” Howard agrees, crossing his arms. “We’ll wait for her!”

Tony sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Guys, listen. Staying up past your bedtime isn’t going to make her come home any faster. Plus, you’re already half-asleep.”

“No, we’re not!” Alex insists, his eyes drooping even as he speaks.

Estelle, as if sensing the conversation, stirs against Tony’s chest and mumbles, “Cowa?”

Tony looks down at her and grins. “No, kiddo, Cora’s not back yet. But let me tell you something—you’re not dating anyone until you’re thirty.”

“Thir-tee,” Estelle repeats in her toddler voice, her head bobbing as if she understands completely.

“Exactly,” Tony says, giving you a pointed look. “See? She agrees.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s called being a responsible father,” he replies, pressing a kiss to Estelle’s curls. “And she’s got a strict no-boys-until-30 policy. Cora’s lucky I let her out of the house at all.”

“Tony,” you warn, though you’re smiling. “Let’s not scare the boys into thinking dating is a crime.”

“It’s not a crime,” he says dramatically. “It’s a privilege.”

The twins, who have been watching this exchange with growing amusement, giggle at their dad’s antics. Even Estelle lets out a soft little laugh, though it quickly turns into a sleepy sigh as she snuggles closer.

Time ticks by slowly as the boys fight to keep their eyes open. You’re certain they’re on the verge of passing out when the familiar sound of the front door unlocking makes everyone sit up straight.

“She’s back!” Alex shouts, scrambling off his chair.

Howard follows suit, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to reach the door. Even Estelle perks up, her tiny hands clutching Tony’s collar as she twists around to look.

“Cora!” Alex and Howard yell in unison, flinging the door open just as Cora steps inside. She barely has time to hang up her jacket before the twins tackle her in a bear hug.

“Whoa, whoa!” Cora laughs, stumbling back a step. “What’s going on?”

“We thought you left us!” Alex wails, clinging to her.

“Forever!” Howard adds, his voice muffled against her sweater.

Cora blinks, clearly taken aback. “What? Why would you think that?”

“They thought you weren’t coming back because you were out late,” you explain, leaning against the doorway with a smile. “We told them you’d be back, but they’ve been in full-on drama mode all night.”

“Aww,” Cora says, crouching down to hug the boys properly. “I’d never leave you guys. You know that, right?”

Alex sniffles, nodding, while Howard wipes his nose on his sleeve.

“Okay,” Cora says, pulling back and ruffling their hair. “Now go to bed, you little maniacs. You’re supposed to be asleep by now.”

“No!” Alex protests, though his voice lacks conviction.

“Yes,” you say firmly, stepping forward to herd them toward the stairs. “You’ve stayed up long enough. Cora will still be here in the morning, I promise.”

“But—” Howard starts to argue, only to be cut off by a pointed look from you. He huffs but doesn’t resist as you guide them upstairs, Tony following with Estelle still clinging to him like a koala.

By the time the boys are settled and Estelle is tucked into her crib, you and Tony make your way back downstairs to find Cora sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

“So,” Tony says, dropping onto the armchair across from her. “How was it?”

Cora glances up, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” Tony echoes, raising an eyebrow. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that.”

“Dad,” she groans, rolling her eyes.

“Come on,” you say, sitting beside her and nudging her gently. “We want details. Where did you go? What did you do?”

Cora hesitates for a moment before sighing and setting her phone aside. “Okay, fine. We went to that little Italian place downtown—you know, the one with the string lights in the back? It was really nice. And then we walked around for a bit, just talking.”

“Talking about what?” Tony asks, leaning forward like he’s interrogating a witness.

“Stuff,” Cora says vaguely.

“Stuff?” Tony repeats, unimpressed.

You shoot him a look. “Tony.”

“What? I’m just asking.”

Cora smirks, clearly enjoying her dad’s frustration. “Okay, we talked about school, movies, music—normal things. And he was really sweet, okay? He held the door for me, pulled out my chair, all that stuff.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “Did he try anything?”

“Dad!” Cora exclaims, her face turning red. “No! He’s not like that.”

“I’m just checking,” Tony says, holding up his hands defensively. “It’s my job to ask these things.”

Cora groans, burying her face in her hands. “Why do I even tell you anything?”

“Because you love us,” you say with a smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “And we love you, even if your dad is a little overbearing.”

“A little?” Cora mutters, though there’s a small smile tugging at her lips.

Tony grins, leaning back in his chair. “Fine, fine. I’ll back off—for now. But if this Ryan kid hurts you, I’m not holding back.”

Cora laughs, shaking her head. “Noted.”

As the conversation drifts into lighter topics, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride. Watching Cora grow into her own person, even with all the ups and downs, is one of the most rewarding parts of being her parent. And while Tony might never stop being the protective dad, you know he feels the same way.

The private beach in Miami is the perfect summer retreat, with golden sands, turquoise waters, and plenty of shade from tall palms. It’s the kind of luxurious getaway only Tony Stark could casually arrange for his family. The kids are in paradise—Estelle’s tiny footprints dot the sand near the shallow water, Alex and Howard are waging an epic sandcastle-building contest, and Cora, well…Cora’s been on her phone more than in the water.

It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Cora, come help us dig this moat!” Alex calls, waving a plastic shovel in her direction.

She looks up from her lounge chair, sunglasses perched on her head. “I told you guys, I’m not a fan of sand.”

“You used to like sand,” Howard points out, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah, when I was, like, seven,” Cora replies with a grin. “I’ll cheer you on from here.”

The twins share a look of disappointment but seem to accept her answer—for now. You, seated under an umbrella with Estelle perched on your lap, can’t help but notice the wistful looks they shoot at their sister every so often. They’re trying not to show it, but they miss her being their partner-in-crime.

Tony strolls over with a fresh drink in hand, surveying the scene with a satisfied grin. “Not bad, huh? Sun, sand, and no paparazzi. Perfect family vacation.”

“Perfect except for the fact that Cora’s more interested in her phone than her brothers,” you tease, nudging him with your elbow.

“Teenagers,” Tony says with an exaggerated sigh. “What can you do?”

You’re about to reply when Cora stands up suddenly, slipping her phone into her bag. “I’m gonna go for a walk,” she announces casually.

“A walk?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you just…walk?”

“Since I feel like it,” she replies, grabbing her sandals and brushing off her shorts. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay close.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony mutters, clearly suspicious, but he lets it go as she wanders down the beach.

The twins, however, aren’t so easily distracted. They watch her closely, their expressions growing more curious—and then downright alarmed—as they see her stop several yards away to talk to someone.

“Is that…?” Alex starts, squinting.

“It’s a boy,” Howard says, his voice filled with betrayal.

You sigh, already guessing who it is. “It’s probably Ryan,” you say, pulling out your phone to send Cora a quick text.

Cora, bring Ryan over to meet us. Don’t make me come over there.

She reads the text immediately—you can tell because she whips around to look at you, her face a mix of disbelief and irritation. You wave at her with a cheerful smile, and she groans audibly, even from that distance.

A few moments later, she trudges back with Ryan in tow, her shoulders hunched as if she’s preparing for the worst. Ryan, to his credit, looks polite but a little nervous, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his swim trunks.

“Everyone, this is Ryan,” Cora says quickly, gesturing toward him. “Ryan, this is…well, everyone.”

“Hi,” Ryan says, offering a small wave.

Tony doesn’t even try to hide his once-over, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Ryan,” he repeats slowly. “You’re the guy my daughter’s been sneaking off to see all summer.”

“Dad!” Cora hisses, her face turning bright red.

“What? Just making an observation,” Tony says innocently, though his gaze doesn’t leave Ryan.

You elbow him lightly. “Tony.”

“I’m just getting a read on the guy!” he protests, holding up his hands.

Ryan shifts awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond. Before anyone can say anything else, the twins barrel toward him, their faces a mix of curiosity and distrust.

“You’re Ryan?” Alex asks, crossing his arms.

“You’re the reason Cora doesn’t hang out with us anymore?” Howard adds, his tone accusatory.

“Guys,” you say sharply, shooting them a warning look.

“It’s okay,” Ryan says, surprising you. He crouches slightly to meet the twins’ level, giving them a small smile. “I get it. You’re mad because you miss your sister, right?”

The boys exchange a glance, clearly caught off guard by his straightforwardness.

“Well…yeah,” Alex admits reluctantly.

“She’s pretty cool,” Ryan says, glancing at Cora, who looks like she wants to disappear into the sand. “I’d miss her too if she stopped hanging out with me.”

Howard narrows his eyes. “Are you just saying that because you like her?”

“Maybe,” Ryan replies with a grin.

Tony lets out a loud cough that sounds suspiciously like “too smooth,” and you quickly step in to diffuse the tension.

“Okay, let’s give Ryan a break,” you say, placing a hand on Howard’s shoulder. “Why don’t you guys go finish your sandcastle? I bet Ryan will come check it out when you’re done.”

The twins consider this for a moment before nodding and running off, already bickering about who’s in charge of the design.

“Thank you,” Cora mutters to you, her voice barely audible.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you whisper back, glancing at Tony, who’s watching Ryan like a hawk.

“So, Ryan,” Tony says, crossing his arms. “What do you do for fun? Besides stealing my daughter’s attention, of course.”

“Tony,” you warn, giving him a pointed look.

Ryan, to his credit, doesn’t seem fazed. “I play basketball, and I’m on the robotics team at school,” he says.

“Robotics, huh?” Tony says, his interest piqued despite himself. “What kind of projects are you working on?”

Cora groans. “Oh my God, please don’t turn this into a Stark Tech interview.”

“It’s not an interview!” Tony protests, though he does seem a little smug. “Just a casual conversation.”

As Tony and Ryan dive into a surprisingly technical discussion about robotics, you notice Estelle wandering dangerously close to the water without her floater.

“Estelle!” you call, rushing over to scoop her up before she can get too far.

“Swim!” she protests, squirming in your arms.

“Not without your floaties,” you say firmly, carrying her back to the umbrella.

By the time you return, Tony has managed to shift the conversation to Ryan’s plans for the future, and Cora is glaring daggers at him.

“Dad, seriously, can you chill?” she says.

“I’m just making sure the kid has a plan,” Tony says with a shrug.

You roll your eyes, setting Estelle down with her toys. “Tony, why don’t you let Ryan breathe for a minute? You’ve already grilled him enough for one day.”

Ryan gives you a grateful look, and Cora mouths a silent “thank you” as well.

Despite the chaos, the afternoon ends on a surprisingly pleasant note. The twins begrudgingly admit that Ryan isn’t that bad, Estelle decides he’s fun enough to share her toys with, and even Tony seems to soften a little—though he’s still keeping a close eye on him.

As you pack up to head back to the house, Cora pulls you aside and hugs you tightly. “Thanks for not letting Dad scare him off,” she whispers.

“Anytime,” you reply with a smile. “But you owe me one.”

She laughs, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of the little girl she used to be—before boys and dates and teenage independence came into the picture.

One sunny afternoon, a few months after the beach encounter, Cora sits you and Tony down in the living room. She’s practically vibrating with excitement, her cheeks glowing, and a smile that she can’t contain. The twins are peeking from the doorway, their curiosity barely hidden, and Estelle is perched on Tony’s lap, lazily playing with a strand of his hair.

“Okay, so…” Cora starts, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I have something to tell you.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, his dad-radar clearly activated. “This better not end with me needing to interrogate someone.”

“Tony,” you chide lightly, giving Cora an encouraging nod. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

Cora takes a deep breath, then blurts out, “Ryan asked me to be his girlfriend, and I said yes!”

The room goes quiet for a beat, the weight of the announcement settling over everyone. Then Tony sits up straighter, his expression unreadable.

“Girlfriend, huh?” he says, his voice carefully neutral. “Isn’t that…serious?”

“It’s not like we’re getting married, Dad,” Cora retorts, rolling her eyes. “But yeah, it’s serious. And I’m really happy.”

You can’t help but smile at the way her face lights up. “That’s wonderful, honey. If he makes you happy, we’re happy for you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tony mutters, earning a light slap on the arm from you.

“Dad!” Cora protests.

“Fine, fine,” Tony relents, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll hold off on the interrogation—for now. But you’d better believe there are going to be rules if this kid is coming around here.”

“Speaking of which,” Cora says, hesitating. “I was thinking…maybe we could invite him over for dinner sometime?”

Tony’s eyes narrow slightly. “Under my roof? Bold move.”

“Tony,” you say firmly. “That sounds like a great idea, Cora. But yes, there will be rules.”

“Rules?” Cora repeats, looking wary.

Tony leans back in his chair, clearly in his element. “Rule number one: the door to your room stays open at all times.”

“Dad!”

“Non-negotiable,” he says with a smirk. “Rule number two: no sitting too close on the couch. I have a very sensitive dad radar, and it will go off if I sense funny business.”

“Tony, stop,” you say, trying not to laugh.

“And rule number three,” Tony continues, ignoring you, “he’s got to pass the Stark Interview.”

“Interview?” Cora asks, her voice dripping with disbelief.

“Oh, you’ll see,” Tony says, his grin widening.

Fast forward to the big day, and the house is abuzz with activity. Cora is a bundle of nerves, alternating between fixing her hair and pacing the living room. You’re trying to keep the twins occupied with a board game, but their curiosity keeps pulling them toward the front door.

“When’s he getting here?” Alex asks for the tenth time, craning his neck toward the window.

“Soon,” you reply patiently, moving a piece on the board. “And you two are staying out of it.”

Howard frowns. “But what if he’s weird?”

“Then your dad will take care of it,” you say with a smile, glancing at Tony, who is polishing a pair of sunglasses with an unnecessary level of intensity.

When the doorbell finally rings, Cora practically flies to the door, only for Tony to intercept her.

“Hold it,” he says, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get it.”

“Dad!” she protests, but he’s already opening the door.

Ryan stands on the porch, looking slightly nervous but polite as ever. He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers, which earns him a few points in your book.

“Mr. Stark,” Ryan says, offering his hand.

Tony looks at the hand for a long moment before finally shaking it. “Ryan. Come on in.”

Ryan steps inside, and his eyes immediately land on Cora, who gives him a shy smile. Tony clears his throat loudly, drawing Ryan’s attention back to him.

“Let’s have a little chat,” Tony says, leading Ryan toward the kitchen.

“Mom!” Cora whispers urgently, turning to you.

“It’ll be fine,” you assure her, though you’re already preparing to intervene if necessary.

In the kitchen, Tony leans against the counter, arms crossed. “So, Ryan. What’s your deal?”

“My deal?” Ryan repeats, looking confused.

“You know, your intentions with my daughter, your plans for the future, your stance on pineapple on pizza—the important stuff,” Tony says, his tone deceptively casual.

“Uh, well, I really like Cora,” Ryan says earnestly. “She’s smart and funny and amazing, and I just want to make her happy.”

Tony narrows his eyes, clearly trying to detect any sign of dishonesty. “And the pizza?”

“No pineapple,” Ryan replies without hesitation.

Tony nods approvingly. “Good answer. You’re off to a decent start.”

By the time you step in to check on them, Tony seems to have relaxed—slightly.

“All right, you pass,” Tony says grudgingly. “But remember, I’m watching you.”

Ryan looks relieved as he follows you back to the living room, where Cora is waiting anxiously.

“What did he say?” she asks, looking between the two of you.

“He’s still alive, isn’t he?” Tony says, smirking.

“Dad!”

“He’s fine,” you assure her, guiding the twins toward the backyard before they can pounce on Ryan with their questions. “Why don’t you two go hang out in the den? And remember the open door rule.”

“Yes, yes, we know,” Cora says, rolling her eyes.

You spend the next couple of hours keeping the twins entertained, stopping Estelle from climbing onto every piece of furniture she can find, and keeping Tony distracted enough to prevent him from “checking in” on Cora and Ryan every five minutes.

When Ryan finally leaves, he thanks you and Tony for having him and promises to text Cora when he gets home.

After the door closes, Tony sighs and sits down on the couch. “Okay, I’ll admit it. He’s not the worst.”

“High praise,” you tease, sitting beside him.

“Don’t push it,” he says with a grin, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

Upstairs, you hear Cora talking excitedly to someone on the phone—probably a friend, recounting the whole day. It’s clear she’s happy, and as much as Tony might grumble about it, you know he’s happy for her too.