#and i offer to get up early to put the sheets in the wash before we head off for the trip

[risuola]

ENTRY #11 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I starve for your touch yet fear to savor it.

contents: arranged marriage!au, nudity, reader discretion is advised — wc. 1690

a/n: there was no way i wouldn't write a fic based on this picture. just no way.

series masterlist

Satoru loves to sleep naked.

The beauty of his innate technique, the blessing that he mastered to no end, has stripped him off one of the most basic human needs — touch. He wasn’t missing it that much, he thought, but there was something in letting go of everything and allowing himself to be wrapped in the silky layers of bedsheets that made his body crave the feeling.

He has always picked expensive garments, the ones with soft fabrics and luxurious feel, despite everyone telling him it’s unreasonable to spend so much on a shirt or a pair of trousers, but to him, it did matter. To him, that was the only thing touching his body when a thin layer of infinity effectively forced everything else back. To Satoru, touch was forbidden, threatening. It was a vulnerability that he, the strongest, couldn’t afford.

But that until he’s met you. Until he’s married you.

You were one of not many people he’s made an exception for. You were able to touch him whenever you wanted because the protective surface of endless matter let you in. Because he himself altered his technique to make you capable of laying your hands on his body.

He longed for your touch. So soft, and delicate, and warm. He craved more of it and yet, despite being shameless and confident, he has not allowed himself to sleep bare even once since the day you and him were bound by the knot of matrimony. It would cross boundaries he wasn’t sure you’d wish to cross; it would make you uncomfortable, awkward maybe — and he liked the way your relationship looked like now. He liked the late evenings you talked quietly, alone and intimate in the warm embrace of sheets and your own house.

For you, he let go of the way he used to sleep before because you were worth the sacrifice, but now, you were gone for few days. You were sent on a mission away from Tokyo and the hours Satoru spent alone in bed, thinking of nothing more but your fingertips on top of his skin, made him desperate — and so, he allowed himself the comfort of soft cotton and silk.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were tired. Exhausted even, by the intense fight you had to pull through, by the uncomfortable nights spent in the dingy hotel room, by the humid weather and rains. In moments like this, there was nothing you envied more in the world than your husband’s ability to warp from one place to another, but you got lucky. Incredibly so, because Ijichi offered you a ride home two days earlier than you were supposed to head back and you thanked all gods and devils for that man’s kindness. He was willing to put on some more road just to get you home.

“Thank you so, so much, Ijichi,” you kissed his cheek — a ghost of a peck that made him all red and steamy and you felt giddy for a moment, seeing the tips of his ears turn crimson. Adorable. You liked him, he was dutiful, polite, trustworthy and constantly terrorized by your husband, so you were determined to at least be the Gojo he likes.

“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled and fixed the frames on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with the tip of his pointer finger. “Have a good rest.”

“You too, Ijichi.”

Then, he was gone and you were stepping into the house with a deep sense of relief washing over you. Home sweet home. If you were to guess, it was most likely somewhere around 4 am, way too early for anyone to be up — especially your husband — so you gave it your all to stay as quiet as possible. The sun was just showing its first rays from way below the horizon line, crawling up with golden hues and breaking the nightly, navy darkness.

On your toes you moved across the house. It seemed as if Gojo was spending his time alone quite ordinarily — you saw a modest stack of empty takeout boxes, much less humble pile of candy wrappers and his uniform jacket thrown over the couch backrest, along with few other little items that you struggled to differentiate in the nocturnal haze.

You put down your bag, hung up your coat and pushed off the shoes. Ghosting your way towards the bathroom, you were desperate to wash away the combat residuals. You lathered up the shower gel in a rush, desperate to rest and sleep in the comfort of your own bed and then, wrapped in the towel, you tippy-toed to the bedroom, but—

“Came back earlier?”

—you truly didn’t expect to be met with a sight like this. Your husband was awake, just barely, most likely awaken by the water running in the bathroom. His eyes were closed, hidden underneath his forearm and shielded from the lights that were slowly creeping inside, between the dark curtains and onto his face. His body seemed relaxed between the sheets. The softest, gentlest lines of golden glimmer that painted its patterns over his uncovered chest and leg, his hip and one of the muscular arms. The duvet was covering less than half of him, hiding a part of his stomach, the other leg and—

“You’re staring.”

Satoru didn’t even have to look at you to know that your gaze was lingering on his frame. On his very, very naked frame, just barely concealed by the comforter.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks and reaching the tips of your ears and you thanked the darkness for hiding it away. You walked around the bed, hoping to find your pajama where you left it and trying to force your head out of the gutter. You heard your husband letting out a deep exhale and then, a soft hum. His voice was as melodic as always, though you could tell how much sleepiness was laced into it.

Satoru should’ve notice you when you entered the area of your house, but he didn’t. Tired by his own job, by the classes and all of the meetings, he allowed himself to lower his guard and when he realized you’re home, he contemplated for a moment getting up and dressed, but he just didn’t want to.

“You’re exhausted, screw pajamas, just come here,” he said before he managed to think twice about it. It was a daring offer, inappropriate even and he opened his mouth to apologize for it, but then, you rendered him speechless.

Your weight felt good on top of him. You lay your body over his own with feathery gentleness and carefully maneuvered your way to rest on his chest completely. The touch of your skin flush to his own made his brain to short circuit, it felt divine, too good to be true and just so very right, he couldn’t say a word.

“Is that alright?” You asked quietly, pressing your ear right above his heart and letting out a breath that you held for a little too long. Your face felt hot, you were flushed and flustered but also oddly at ease with the current position and you wondered for a moment if it was the tiredness that made you so bold.

“More than that,” he replied, pulling the covers to hide you beneath them. He allowed one of his arms to snake around your waist and his lips to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. Sleep well, wifey.”

“Good night.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

10:19 AM

Satoru thought he was dreaming, but the weight on top of him felt too real. The soft scent of citrusy shower gel that lingered on your skin filled in his lungs each time he took a breath in and there was a tickle, he realized — every time his chest raised, a strand of your hair seemed to be moving against his jawline. You were not a dream.

He opened his eyes, blinking few times, adjusting them to the bright light that forced its way into the bedroom and then, he looked at you. You were still very deep asleep, he could tell based off the long inhales you were taking, slow and relaxed, fanning against his peck rhythmically. Your body was mostly on top of him, you were on his chest, your leg was between his and only your hips were resting on the bed. He still had his arm around you, as if making sure you were as close as possible.

It felt incredible. Intimate. It was everything he could have wished for. A touch, skin to skin, so intense it almost took his breath away. He felt nauseous at the thought, realizing that it’s the first time in his life, he’s that close to someone. So impossibly close that just a little bit more and you’d become a part of him. His heartbeat quickened.

It was so right. So awfully correct and at the same time, so very threatening. He felt helpless. Vulnerable. He was at your mercy, he was robbed of everything what made him the strongest, because at this very moment, he was bare. Uncovered before you, wrapped in an embrace that felt loving, that felt soothing, addicting, but if you only wished to hurt him, you’d—

You moved, shifting your weight a little bit, adjusting the position and the way your hand run down his side made him shiver. A soft sound escaped your throat when you let out a deeper exhale. He felt your fingers squeezing the flesh above his hip and then, you relaxed again.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, not bothering to open your eyes, and Satoru held his breath. “Relax…”

And he chuckled. His chest vibrated below your ear and the adorable sound of displeasure you let out made him lose all of the tension. He turned, twisting his body inside your embrace to face you fully and he squeezed you with both of his arms, pulling you close. So impossibly close, and you whimpered, suddenly enclosed in a tight hold of your husband’s limbs. That was it for your sleep.

You could get used to it.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe

[skyyguy]

#15 for Professor John and Student Gale for @trashbag-baby666 This is in Theo and my au where Gale is 20, a college student, and John is 33, a professor at the college. John teaches Sports Journalism/Broadcasting or something similar, and Gale enrolls in on one of John's classes after John subs for one of his teachers, even though it has nothing to do with his major. Gale's struggling in the class so John helps tutor him and they get close. Winter in WI can be brutal, and Gale lives out of his car. John sees him one night and offers him to come stay at his place with his two daughters-- a 5 and 3 year old-- and Gale reluctantly accepts. One of his feet is frost-bitten from his time staying in his car in the blistering cold, and he hides how bad it is from John, ignores it, until John takes him to the hospital with a high fever. Doctors have to amputate his leg, just below his knee, because of how bad it's gotten, by this point.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, John rose to his feet, his back and shoulders rolling as he stood upright, his spine cracking multiple times. He surveyed the room and the hastily put together furniture, popping his gum between his molars as he considered. He just hoped it would be good enough. He'd bought a new bed, a nightstand, bookshelves, a desk, and a dresser, all matching. While it wasn't expensive, he'd wanted something with a bit of quality to it, so it wasn't exactly cheap either. John sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand again before swiping it over his jeans.

He'd already had Gale's car towed into his driveway, already gotten all of his stuff out of the vehicle, though he hadn't wanted to put things away, since Gale might want to do that himself. The bed was unmade, but sheets and a thick comforter lay folded on top of it, ready to go. With any luck, Gale would let him make the bed for him, would let John help him put his belongings away. The past week, though, Gale had been moody and uncooperative, earning him more than a few glares and grumbled curses from nurses and doctors. John couldn't exactly blame him, he guessed. Though it wasn't exactly their fault he was in there in the first place.

His phone alarm went off in his pocket, startling him out of his thoughts, and John pulled the thing out, turning it off. Taking a deep breath, he turned on his heel and marched out of the room, closing the door behind him. It was time to go pick Gale up, to bring him home. The girls were with Curt for the day, a carefully orchestrated plan so Gale wouldn't get too overwhelmed on his first day back. He knew Gale loved his daughters and that they loved him too, but John also knew Gale was extremely anxious about being discharged, even if he would never admit it. So, he'd asked Curt to keep the girls busy to give Gale some time to decompress. Curt had been more than happy to take his goddaughters for the day.

John got himself ready quickly, washing his face, combing his curls into something a little neater, changing into clean clothes, before tossing on his snow boots and heading out. The drive to the hospital was uneventful, thankfully, the roads clear of snow and ice and other cars. It was early enough on a Sunday, John supposed, that people were either in church or just staying in. He couldn't blame them, it was -2 degrees out. Which is why he parked as close to the hospital doors as he could and practically sprinted into the building.

"Mornin', doll," John greeted cheerfully when he brushed through the door to Gale's room. Gale blinked at him, eyes still blurry from sleep, as if he'd just woken up. Which he probably had.

"Mornin'" he replied, voice thick and rough with sleep. John found it endearing and he smiled brightly.

"Ready to blow this pop stand?" John asked, though he plopped himself in the chair beside Gale's bed as he said it, causing Gale to frown, brow furrowing in confusion, "after you get your morning meds, get dressed, and I sign the paperwork," John continued as way of explanation. Gale's confusion cleared, but he was still frowning, starting to pick nervously at the edge of the blanket John had brought him from his car. It was old, clearly, fraying at the edges, but well-loved and, clearly, a comfort item.

"Is my car still in the lot?" Gale muttered, as if afraid to even ask.

"Nah, I had it brought home," John replied, waving a hand in the air as if it were no big deal. Gale seemed to stiffen, but John couldn't tell if it was due to his words or his actions.

"Oh…" Gale sighed, forcing himself to relax, though John saw him cut a quick glance to his leg. Guilt welled inside John for the millionth time of the past week. He allowed himself to wallow for a few quick seconds before slapping his hands on his thighs— noting the way Gale flinched slightly— and standing up.

"A'ight, well, I dunno about you," John started, "but I hate hospitals and would just assume be on our way. Lemme go grab a nurse so we can be," he said, back to cheerful and smiley, before trotting out the door and tracking down the first nurse he could, roping them into helping with Gale's morning medications and getting the paperwork set for him to be discharged.

A little over an hour later, John's pulling the car out of the hospital parking lot, humming along to the radio while Gale sits and glowers out the window. He has that blanket wrapped around his shoulders and he's still picking at the frayed edge, anxious and uncertain. John can feel the weight of unspoken words in the air, can feel the tension thick and almost suffocating.

"You can drop me off at a motel or something," Gale whispered, almost too quiet to hear over the radio, finally breaking his silence. John's hand not on the steering wheel twitched.

"Why would I do that?"

"I have nowhere to go and my car's at your house…" Gale muttered, leaning his forehead on the cold glass of the passenger window.

"Yeah, which is why you're coming home with me," John replied, his tone light and easy, eyeing the rising tension in Gale's shoulders carefully.

"You don't have to," Gale said and John could hear the slightest bit of panic in his voice. He knew it was only going to grow.

"I want to," John assured, shrugging his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal— though he knew it was. Gale finally looked over at him and John saw the panic haze in his eyes.

"I don't want to be a burden, and that's all I'd be," Gale retorted, biting his lip.

"Nah, you wouldn't be. I like having you around. The girls like having you around."

"I can't do anything, I can't pay rent, I can't- I can't- I ca- can't-" Gale stuttered out, the panic sinking it's claws into him. Before John could respond, Gale's hands were fumbling at the door handle and the door started to swing open. Without thinking, John lunged towards the door, jerking the car roughly, and slammed the door with his body splayed across Gale's lap. He held it as Gale tried to shove it open again, his whole body trembling, breathing harsh and quick as he hyperventilated. John managed to get the car to the side of the road, stopped, in park, and the doors locked without moving from his position.

"Buck," John tried to get his attention, seeing the way Gale's eyes had gone unfocused and wide, "Buck, hey, Buck, look at me," he tried again, sitting up and twisting in his seat, grabbing one of Gale's wrists gently. tapping with his forefinger. Gale didn't look at him, screwing his eyes shut instead.

"L-lemme go," Gale whispered. John reluctantly let go of his wrist, but he kept one hand poised to lock the car doors and one to grab Gale's wrist if he needed to.

"Gale," John said firmly, making the younger man flinch slightly, but he blinked his eyes open and looked at John, "it's okay, Gale," John tried to reassure him, but Gale shook his head, tears springing to his eyes. John wanted to wipe them away when they started spilling. He opened his mouth to say something, but choked on his breath and curled in on himself, one hand shooting his knee, gripping at the bandages.

"Hey, hey, none of that," John reached over and gently peeled Gale's hand away from the stump, twining their fingers together to let Gale clench his hand instead, "we'll figure things out, 'kay? But you're comin' home with me is non-negotiable. I signed legal paperwork saying I'd take care of you, if nothing else," John said softly, ducking his head to maintain eye contact when Gale tried to look away, "and, I want to take care of you. I want you to come stay with me. I want you there, okay? You're not a burden, not to me," John soothed him, relieved when Gale's panicked breathing started to ease. The blond screwed his eyes shut again, but he leaned back against the car seat, making a visible effort to calm his breathing, his hand squeezing John's tightly, the other on his uninjured leg.

They sat in silence for a long moment before Gale nodded, a short, sharp thing, and John let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He knew this was a discussion they'd have to have later on too, but he hoped that it could wait long enough for Gale to get really well settled and decide things were actually okay. John waited a few more moments, watching Gale settle back down, before throwing the car back into drive and pulling back onto the road. They'd only gone a few feet before Gale set his hand over John's on the gearshift. John smiled softly and moved his hand to let their fingers twine together, squeezing Gale's hand reassuringly.

"I had Curt take the girls so they don't instantly bombard you when we get home," John commented, wanting to say something but not knowing what else to say. Gale hummed softly but didn't reply, just stayed as he was, and John found that it was a relief, the lack of reaction. After all, with Gale, no reaction was usually better, he'd found. Well… Except for in one particular case.

"Hey," John said, squeezing Gale's hand softly, glancing over at him.

"Hmmm?" Gale replied, cracking his eyes to look over at John.

"Why didn't you tell me it hurt so bad?" John asked softly, his voice quiet, concern colouring his tone. He saw Gale stiffen slightly, saw his jaw clench out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not mad, Buck, I just want to understand," John explained, worried about setting Gale into another panic.

"I…" Gale started, looking out the window, his grip on John's hand tightening, almost painfully, "I thought I could handle it…" he muttered, his free hand ghosting over his stump, fingers twitching. His jaw was still tight and John could see the tears swimming in his eyes again.

"Baby…" John started softly, bringing their joined hands to his lips and kissing Gale's knuckles, "you don't have to do things alone anymore," he promised, breath hot against Gale's soft hands, "I want to help you, please let me," John begged gently.

"Sorry," Gale whispered, letting his head lean back on the headrets. John kissed his knuckles again before rubbing the back of Gale's hand against his cheek and nosing at his wrist.

"You don't need to apologize, doll," John assured him, keeping his eyes on the road despite the tempation to look at Gale, "I don't completely understand, but I want to, and even more than that I want to be there for you, no matter what, 'kay?" John saw him nod out of the corner of his eye. He knew he was being more romantic then they had been before, knew that they'd never really discussed what they were together, but it felt right. Though he really didn't seem to mind it, he just had to hope Gale truly didn't. After all, if he came on to Gale, moved Gale into his house, but Gale didn't want the same things… It might make things worse for Gale. John kissed Gale's pulse point before letting their hands drop back down, elbow resting on the center console, hands hanging over the cup holder.

"Can… Can I take a nap…? When we get to your- when we get home…?" Gale asked, voice small and nervous, as if afraid to ask, afraid to need, afraid to want. John's heart tightened at the tone, at the way he stuttered to a stop and changed his phrasing.

"You don't need to ask, darlin', you can do whatever you want," John hushed him, squeezing his hand. Gale made a small noise, but he didn't say anything. So John let the conversation lapse, content to let the radio play softly and fill the comfortable silence. He drove carefully, making sure to keep off any snow or ice that had formed or blown into the road, acutely aware of his precious passenger.

[toxicanonymity]

Hi!! Pls point me in the right direction if there’s been a similar ask already, but I’m recently obsessed with raider and also started my period today :// so I’m wondering how Joel would treat sweet pea on her period? Does he think it’s gross, does he still touch her on her period, does he let her have painkillers if she asks nicely, etc? Do you imagine her not even getting her period at all anymore from stress or malnourishment? Just a random thought I had :)

Raider Joel if you got your period

900 words, raider!Joel x f!reader.

SUMMARY/WARNINGS: this is mostly headcanon/kinda fluff I guess but brief angst and smut (period sex, oral m receiving), talk of sterility. Featuring Carter!

A/N: yeah, she doesn't have her period, from malnourishment or general conditions, like you mentioned, so if she got it I think it'd be a surprise to both of them. If this gets canonized I'll let y'all know but rn I don't wanna deal with tracking a period lol.

raider master list

Early one morning, when the sun is still rising, Joel has an arm wrapped over you and his hand creeps between your legs. He pulls you back into him, and his fingers slip between your thighs. You’re even wetter than usual, making him press his arousal into you with a quiet growl, and then, he can’t resist, he brings his finger to his mouth. Before he can taste it, he smells the familiar copper and his heart skips a beat. This all happens really fast: He throws the covers off you and sees a dark blotch smeared from when he pulled you into him. He backs up and lets you down onto your back. He says your name urgently, shakes your shoulder and hovers his cheek over your mouth to feel your breath.

As you begin to wake up, he remembers about periods and feels bad for making a big deal of it if that’s what’s going on. He cups your face and breathes a sigh of relief, but he still has to ask, “Are you hurt?”

You begin to stir awake. "You okay?" He asks. As you gain consciousness you register his wet finger on your cheek and put your hand over it. You feel how wet you are and squirm, then when you turn over to face him, you look down to reach down for the sheet and you see blood. It startles you, too. Then you register the familiar ache in your abdomen, and you never thought you’d *want* cramps but for some reason it makes you emotional to have it back.

You reflexively apologize, “Sorry, I think it’s just. . .it must be back,” you whisper. “My cycle.”

“It’s okay, you’re okay, right?” His heart rate is still elevated but he’s starting to calm down.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m sorry, it’s been gone for so-”

“It’s okay, you’re okay.”

–

I think he’d do his best to take care of you but would need some guidance. He’d probably ask you what you need. As much of a big tough guy as he is he does take his role seriously in taking care of you so I imagine he’d run you a bath and tell you to wait there. Maybe he’d send Carter to try to find some pads lmao.

-

Joel would jog down the hill to the stash house to get Carter. Joel would almost rather Carter just stay with you guys, but someone's still gotta keep an eye on things. Carter would still be waking up when Joel barges in asking for help. Carter's like, "easy, what's goin' on?"

"She's bleedin', I need you to-"

"What happened, is she okay??"

"No, yeah, she's got," Joel awkwardly gesticulate as he explains, "She's got her cycle"

"Her period?" Carter breathes a sigh of relief and chuckles. "made it sound like life or death, man. Ya know they're s'posed to get it every month right?"

"Can ya find her somethin'?"

“Joel, I dunno anything about-”

“Carter, please–can ya figure it out?”

Carter swallows and looks around. “Yeah. Sure, boss.”

(I guess this falls under "other duties as assigned" - taking down human scarecrows, finding menstrual products)

–

And yes, Joel has the drug connections and might offer you pills if you feel bad, or even if you don't. He might even try to help by washing the sheets while you're in the bath and Carter is out trying to find supplies.

–

Sexually, Joel has no aversion to your period. But maybe you’re still self conscious of the mess at first. He’s pounding you from behind, and you’ve just finished coming. He moans deeply as you squeeze him with an aftershock.

“Joel,” you look back at him.

He grunts and sighs as he buries his length in you, a mess spreading in his pubic hair and between your legs. He pants, “yeah sweet pea”

“Can i swallow it”

“Can ya —”

“Please?"

He sighs, wanting to slam into you and spill it already, but thinking, ok whatever. He pulls out, lays back on the bed, and you lick him clean before he cums and you swallow. Seeing you do it is such a turn-on, it might become a thing he wants you to do.

–

And then after, you suggest, “maybe I should swallow all the time from now on.”

His brow furrows “Why?”

“If I can get my period, i can probably get pregnant." It goes without saying neither of you would consider that a good things in this world.

“oh,” he mutters, then he’s pensive for a moment. “that ain’t gonna happen, sweet pea.”

“how do you know? are you ... fixed?”

He's short, but his tone is gentle. “yeah, it just ain’t gonna happen okay?” You feel bad for accidentally stumbling onto something from his past, but feel relieved at the revelation.

“okay,” you whisper as you put your head on his chest. “sorry.”

“’s'okay, baby. 's'a good thing, ain't it."

"Yeah," you sigh. "really good."

—

We don't know exactly why she doesn't have it, either malnourishment and/or stress conditions could be viable, I've tended to HC malnutrition but if she were to get it, maybe that'd be a sign of kind of settling into a (relative to the situation) normal-ish life there. At least she started picking dandelion leaves and stuff and foraging for mushrooms, and maybe they found some produce like with the apples and pumpkins HC.

—-

---

he's snipped that's why he can't

---

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️

[temptress-writes]

🦊 Lucky Fox

A/N: Groovy seventies Harry. Part two of Disco Snow

C.W: DRUG USE (weed). Sexual content: spit kink, breeding kink, dum/dom play (subrry), spanking, squirting, anal play, bondage, choking.

Word count—10.2k.

Enjoy x

***

“I’m fumin’, little fox.”

The cord of your telephone is tangled in a perfect spiral around your index finger, your back pressed against the wall beside where the cradle hangs. You try to stifle the giggle that ensues his competitive aggression on the other end of the phone.

“It’s just a game, Harry.”

“Just a game? Right and Waffelos is just cereal, not a heavenly maple orgasm in the mouth.”

You laugh harder at his dramatic claim. It’s something you love about him. He puts his full heart into everything. Whether it’s a particularly tight parallel parking spot, a really bad joke, or a heavy debate on which cereal is the best. And mostly? You.

Well. You, and currently, Space Invaders.

“I’m not kidding around. I dialed you for reinforcements. Get your perky little ass down here.”

And with that, he hangs up. This is a reoccurring thing for the two of you. Harry tries to beat his highest score down at the arcade but swears he needs his little fox at his side for good luck. You're more than happy to oblige, often massaging his tense shoulders, offering sips of a milkshake through a straw before giving him a peck on his raspberry lips.

Ever since that night at the Hall of Mirrors, you and Harry have been inseparable. More discos, even more nights in his sheets. Months and months of dance battles in your kitchen in the early hours of the morning, months of reading poetry laid out in a park, his head tucked into your lap as you recite lines.

He is everything you adore in a person; warm, charismatic, shameless. He’s taught you a lot about being true to yourself. You often find yourself trying to be a people pleaser. To fit into a label of what makes you a person.

But Harry is a different class of human. Unhinged and unapologetic. Soulful and selfless. Of course, the man who wore bubblegum flares when you first met him would be the one you’d give your heart to. Really, his existence is one of a dream-like mirage. But he’s so real, and all yours.

Due to Harry’s more than electric dressing sense, he’s usually hauling you down to the mall in his yellow Dodge Charger. Grabbing items from racks and making you try them all on. Telling you twirl and show it off. He swears you suit everything and is quick to buy whatever you like. His favourite thing to spoil you with is lingerie, buying you dreamy underwear that he can rip apart with his teeth before tasting you.

One of your most recent purchases, courtesy of Harry’s taste, is a pair of gold sequin pants. You shimmy them up your legs, throwing on your white blouse and your white platform shoes. You leave your hair natural, not tying it up like you usually do because you know how much Harry enjoys playing with the loose strands.

Seated at your vanity, you apply a frosty green eyeshadow to your eyelid and use your cake liner to define your eyes with black along your lash line. With some coats of mascara and a wash of lip gloss, you grab your jacket and purse and head down to the arcade.

The sun is setting, melting into the skyline of Miami with warm caramel and fluffy candy-floss clouds that become burnt violet as the sun nears the horizon.

The Score. An arcade and bowling alley that evolves into a buzzing bar every night. Being a new establishment, it's a hot spot that offers everything. Entertainment, dancing, drinking, and the best hotdogs Harry says he’s ever tasted.

You pass the payphone where Harry called you from, skirting around the corner and bump straight into him.

He’s smiling brightly and you take a second to appreciate how fucking good he looks. You’re glad you put in the effort to match his style, always so impressed with his fits. This one might be one of your favourites.

The first thing you notice is the brown fur coat draped over his broad shoulders. It’s luxurious and warm and makes you want to cuddle him even more. Underneath is a yellow graphic t-shirt with his favourite orange stained sunglasses hung on the neck of it. His legs are nestled in a pair of blue flared jeans, his feet donning a pair of gold boots.

He makes a little whiney noise and cups your face in his jeweled fingers, leaving soft and delicate kisses to your lips and the tip of your nose. He pulls back to smile, his dimples and little crinkles by his eyes indented with the force.

“Hi, how high are you? Wait no, how are you h- I’m high as shit.”

You laugh, pressing your face into his neck and feeling his warmth. “Pothead. Did you smoke without me?”

He narrows his eyes at your pouted lips, flicking them with his finger. “Aw, feeling left out?”

“No.” You grumble playfully.

He chuckles, looking around before pulling you down the alley next to The Score. He fumbles around his jacket pocket, producing a half-smoked blunt and his lighter.

“Pucker up, baby.”

You giggle, allowing him to place the blunt between your pursed lips. He lights it, shielding the flame from the wind with his hand. You suck in deeply while Harry keeps watch. The smoke fills your lungs before it leaves your body in a plume. Harry grips your chin, sucking the smoke from your pouted lips.

Your lips meet in a heated kiss, the blunt quickly forgotten as he scoops you closer in his arms. He pressed you against the wall, tangling his hands in your hand and sucking on your tongue.

“Left your hair down for me, pretty girl. Know how much I like to pull it, don’t you?”

You sigh against him, your hands gripping his ass to pull him flush against you. He shamelessly grinds his crotch against you, kissing you deeply. You love his kisses. How much heavy meaning and adoration lies behind them.

He tugs your hair once more before growling and pulling away. He throws you a wink and breathes out a puff of air to calm himself down. He’s often telling you how much he struggles to keep his hands off you and today is no different.

He’ll never pass up an opportunity to have his hands on you, especially in those gold pants of yours.

But he’s also aware that you’re both stood in an alley with a dying blunt when you could be inside, getting settled into some entertainment for the night. He loves spending time with you like this. Having a smoke, maybe a drink or two. Getting silly and teasing each other. He can’t fucking wait.

He grips your wrist as you bring the joint up to your lips. You raise your brow. “What?”

“You take another hit and you’ll be catching some Z’s before I can get you a drink.”

“You're not wrong.”

He knows you so well, and you allow him to take the joint from your fingers and finish it. He flicks the butt to the ground, crunching it under the toe of his golden boot. He grips your hip, tugging on your pants and clicking his tongue.

“Look at us being all cute and shit. Matching, eh? Golden couple.”

Your hands bury themselves into his fur coat. “I love the coat.”

“Yeah? Don’t sweat it- it’s faux. No little foxes were harmed.”

He hooks his arm around your neck, pulling you from the alleyway and towards the arcade. You feel warm and fuzzy from both him and the joint. The night that stretches ahead of you makes you yearn for more of him. You can’t ever get enough of each other. Any second he can be showing you how much he appreciates you, he is.

“Let’s go buzz some extraterrestrials, yo!” He yells and you duck your head as people stare at him.

With two vodka slushies in hand, the two of you head over to the Space Invaders machine and you’re surprised there are no indents in the carpet from where he’s been standing most of today.

Harry’s excited, you can tell. He’s such a competitive person and as of late, his rival has been himself. Falling ever so slightly short to beat his own high score. You look at the leader board and it seems there is someone attempting to take his throne, creeping into 3rd place. You snort at the name he’s given himself.

SPACE INVADERS

HIGH SCORES

1st   DADDY 435945

2nd   DADDY 421890

3rd   TB 337300

“Daddy? Please tell me that’s not you.”

Harry drops his jaw. “I- hang on, say it again. I like it.”

You pull him close, taking a sip of your vodka slushy and he does the same, wriggling his brows to egg you on. You’re both on a different level to the rest of the arcade, high off the joint and each other, buzzing off the vodka slushies.

“What, you wanna be my daddy?”

“Cheeky thing. I am your daddy.”

You bump your hip against his, tutting your tongue. Harry laughs at the flush in your cheeks before taking a long sip of his slushy. He hands it to you for safekeeping, poking his tongue out at you, tinged red from his drink. You poke your tongue out and he gasps at the bright blue stain.

“Blue tongued fox!”

You snort. “Sounds like an endangered species.”

“You’re one of a kind, my girl.” He leaves a kiss on your forehead and then your nose. He’s so soft and constantly being so affectionate with you. He winks. “Right, let’s send these ET fuckers home.”

After removing his coat and placing it on your shoulders, he turns to the gaming machine in front of him. He claps a couple of times and then rubs his hands together, psyching himself up for the task ahead.

He stretches out his neck, cracking his knuckles and you know he means business. He starts up the game, the little theme playing out that he hums along to.

Innocently sipping your slushy and then his, you place them on the bench beside you. You move to stand behind him, pressing your chest flat against his back. You can feel the warmth radiating from beneath his yellow t-shirt, his back expanding on a breath as he feels your tits against him.

He shakes his head to clear the delicious fog of you, starting up the game and letting his hands find the controls as if they’re a second home. As much as he loves to put his focus into his game, you will always be his top priority, the cutest and most welcome little distraction.

Your lips press on the plane of his back, right between his shoulder blades. You hum, your hands wrapping around his waist to press against his tummy. Your fingers slip underneath the material, desperate to feel his skin in any way you can.

He shivers when your nails scratch up and down his soft stomach. The beeps from the game mirror the jolts in his upper body as he aims and shoots, diminishing the rows of aliens on the screen.

You peer over his shoulder, patient and almost in awe of how controlled he is. So calm in the moment but you know he’ll be very vocal when the game ends. His score crawls higher and higher, as do your words of praise and encouragement.

“You got this, daddy.” You tease, hearing him growl deep in his chest.

“Cut it out, little fox. I’m trying to focus. And watch those hands.”

“Oops.” You giggle as if you don’t control the fact that your hands are veering south. Meeting the denim of his jeans, dreaming about going lower. But you decide to behave and tuck your fingers into the belt loops and kiss his shoulder.

“Fuck, almost got it. One more row and I’m toast.”

The pressure is high and you’re holding your breath as the rows of enemies creep lower and lower. But Harry feels like he’s been training for this moment. He’s about to surpass his highest score, taste it on the tip of his tongue, like his slushy. Or you.

You hold your breath as he grits his teeth, fully immersing himself in this game. He can feel the vapours of victory encase him, wrapping around his frame and bubble in his chest. They escape in excited yells as he surpasses his highest score.

“Fuck yes!” He cheers, whipping around to pick you up and spin you in a circle. Your congratulations are a round of elated yells and kisses. He puts you down and fist bumps the air, slapping the side of the gaming machine.

“Daddy reigns high, bitches!”

Others in the arcade shoot him looks at his expressive behavior. You shrug unapologetically, over the moon for your lover and his triumph.

“I’m so happy for you, handsome.” You smile, hugging him and squeezing his biceps. He wrinkles his nose and flexes them, showing off proudly even though he’s the least vain person you know.

He places his orange-stained glasses on you, adjusting so they sit perfectly on the bridge of your nose.

“Couldn’t have done it without you. You’re my lucky fox.”

Swimming in victory, Harry veers you towards the bowling alley. You exchange your heels for a pair of red and blue bowling shoes. Harry sits next to you, tying your laces before he does his own.

You find a secluded alley, away from other bowlers. You store your belongings in the booth, Harry’s fur coat included. Music blasts from the speakers and you hum along, trudging behind Harry as he approaches the rack and chooses a ball.

He picks the pink bowling ball in classic fashion. Bubblegum. He holds it, sending you a cheeky look and you brace yourself for whatever comment is about to come.

He nods to his hold of the three hooks in the pink ball. “Two in the pink, one in the stink, aye?”

You slap his chest, shoving past him to the rack and pulling up your choice of ball. A shimmering blue one.

“Behave, or you’ll have blue balls.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “Nice one, honey made a funny.”

“I do try.”

You stare down the lane at the setup of pins, twisting your lips. You’re competitive but nowhere near as competitive as he is. You can see the strategies forming behind his eyes and you wonder if you can sweet-talk him into taking it easy on you.

He smirks. “Ladies first.”

You bite your lip, aiming up your shot as you swing the ball back in your grasp. You can feel his eyes on you, in admiration, but also watching your technique. Whether that’s to help you better your game or to use it against you, you’re sure you’ll find out soon enough.

Your blue ball careens down the lane, your posture impressive and you stand to watch it take down just three pins. You groan out in frustration, knowing your body is slow and cloudy from the joint and single drink you had. Your second shot is no better, knocking down two additional pins. You jot down your unimpressive score on the sheet with a huff.

Harry chuckles, coming up beside you and pinching your hip. “Lucky fox. Watch me sink ten.”

“You won’t.”

“How about this,” He spreads his hands, preparing his proposal. “for every pin I knock down, you give me a kiss.”

“I hope you gutter it.”

“Oh, bite me.” He glares, kissing his cross pendant hanging around his neck before grabbing his ball to swing his shot.

As the ball shoots from his hand, the muscles and veins flex in his arm, his foot crossed back behind him dramatically.

His jeweled fingers shield his eyes from an imaginary glare as he watches his play. The bowling ball speeds dead center down the lane, blurring pink and knocking down ten pins.

“Strike!” He yells, pleased with himself. He does a little dance, his flared jeans swaying as he jives.

Of fucking course he lands a strike. His competitive streak on a high from passing his high score. You jump out of the way as he reaches for you. A haze of yellow and blue denim, a lazy smile, and mischievous emerald eyes that don’t leave yours.

“You cheated.” You deadpan, wanting to wind him up more than anything.

He laughs before his expression is dropped, stoic with his hands on his hips. “As fucking if. Stop being a sore loser and pay up. Come on, ten smooches. And don’t be stingy, I’ll be counting 'em.”

You sigh, feigning a look of sore defeat. “Fine. Where do you want them?”

“Losers choice.” He grins, happy to receive your kisses anywhere you’ll give them.

You can’t help but smile, your heart careening and flipping in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck and give him a peck on the cheek, then the other, and then the nose, the corner of his mouth. When your lips meet, neither of you are counting anymore. Harry’s not even sure if he was counting in the first place.

It’s hard to act nonchalant when you’re kissing him. Or when you’re with him in general. He’s everything warm and gooey and glowing about life. All of your favourite things are wrapped into one dimpled, tattooed human. Curly, bubblegum.

It’s even harder to part. Even being in a public place, Harry sees no shame in showing his girl as much love and affection as he sees fit.

His thumb brushes your lower lip, his voice a low whisper. “You’re my lucky little fox, but I’m by far the luckiest fucker alive to call you mine.”

You kiss him again, so head over heels, submerged in him, so far gone, and happy to be.

Your next approach to the lane is one of determination. You take a deep breath, trying to form a connection with your bowling ball while Harry whistles loudly behind you.

“You got this, baby! Your ass looks mint!”

You turn to look at him, your head tilted. “Stop trying to throw me off!”

Harry waves you off. “Turn back around, let me see the peach.”

You roll your eyes and try to push it to the back of your mind, eyeing the ten pins at the end and glaring. You want to impress Harry but you also want to impress yourself. The fog in your mind parts straight down the middle, allowing the perfect alignment of the alley.

You swing your arm back as you take a few steps forward before launching the ball down towards the pins. You hear Harry cheer you on as it fires dead center towards the pin. You shout at it, willing it to stay on course.

The ball veers ever so slightly to the right, clipping half of the pins and knocking down an extra two. Seven down, the three remaining glaring at you. Harry scoops you up with an excited yell, spinning you in a circle.

You kiss him, unable to help yourself. You retrieve your ball and face the pins, Harry crowding behind you with his hands on your waist. His lips brush your ear, soft and enticing an eruption of butterflies in your stomach.

“Three left, little fox. Want the pro to help you sink 'em?”

You smile, turning your neck so you can nudge your nose against his. “Please.”

With his hold on your waist, he ushers you to the left a little, lining you up for the shot. “Aim slightly to the left, okay? Give it full power.”

You nod, letting his arm guide yours in a trialing movement. “Like this?”

“Just like that, atta girl.”

He takes a small step back, sensing your immense focus on his teachings. You let the ball roll from your fingers, surging towards the remaining pins. You’re hopeful as it nears them, staying right on course just as Harry had predicted. His arms are wrapped around you as you both watch the ball knock down the three pins.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” He yells, squeezing you tight while you cheer at your win. You high-five him, slipping his glasses from your nose and tucking them into the neck of his shirt.

You shrug and drop your chin against your shoulder, bashful.

“That was slick as shit, foxy.”

He’s impressed, proud even, as he writes your score down on the card. Your little victory dance is adorable, his smile growing as you parade around in triumph. You’re still buzzing, the weed sizzling and melting in your bloodstream.

“Your turn, hotshot.”

“Might as well put down a strike for me now.” He points to the scorecard.

“You’re cocky sometimes, you know that?”

“Pfft, only sometimes? If I bury ten, I get to borrow those pants next weekend.” He points to your gold sequins and your roll your eyes playfully.

“You know I’d let you, anyway.”

“Mm, but I like winning.”

He picks up his pink ball, throwing you a wink before skillfully lining up his shot. He sinks eight easily, toppling over and knocking the remaining two. Another clean strike. The celebration that proceeds is no less enthusiastic, shared kisses and cheers.

You write down his score on the sheet, as Harry seemingly loses all interest in the bowling game at hand. It’s hard to focus on anything but you, and with his own buzz slowly dissipating, he’s only high off you.

He presses you against the table, your breath hitching as his hands slide down the backs of your thighs. His lips brush yours and you’re quick to flick your tongue out against his bottom lip.

“You owe me ten kisses, pretty girl.”

Your hands tangle into the soft curls at the nape of his neck. “Can I get a please?”

The smirk that curls at his lips creates a warm, fuzzy feeling inside your chest. “Feeling bossy tonight, hm? You wanna call the shots?”

Genuinely intrigued by the idea, you tilt your head shyly. “Would you let me?”

“You’re asking if I’d let you be in control, little fox? Let you sit on my face, ride my cock as long as you like?”

Hearing the words leave his mouth strips all moisture from your mouth. It’s streamed between your legs and you squeeze your thighs together to quell the sudden intense burst of arousal.

“Harry, please.”

His expression is one of heady desire, “I’ll be your good boy tonight. You just need to give me a kiss, first.”

The sentence barely leaves his lips before your lips meet his. Messy and heated. His lips encasing your lower one, your tongue finding his. He doesn’t even attempt to stifle the moan that rumbles in his chest.

He presses tightly against you, and you can feel his cock hardening beneath his denim jeans. You pull away, your eyes lulled. Harry smiles lazily, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before giving your ass a full squeeze.

“Let’s ditch this joint, hm? Burn some rubber in the Dodge, you can give me a handy on the way back to yours.”

You don’t even have the willpower to slap him for the comment, too enthralled with his sudden change of mood. Sappy and gooey, you just want each other.

“What about the game?” You gesture to the bowling alley.

“It’s a tie, or you win. I don’t care, I just wanna get home and let you use me.”

After collecting your belongings and swapping the bowling shoes for your own, you find yourselves tucked into his Dodge Charger, the engine roaring to life. The bright nightlife reflects off the yellow exterior of the car as Harry drives through the streets of Miami.

Harry turns up the radio, All Along The Watchtower booming through the speakers, bass thrumming in your throat. You put the window down and get lost in the breeze. The song, the man you’re with, feels like something one could only dream of.

Harry has one hand on the steering wheel, the other on your thigh. He squeezes it every so often, and you have to take a deep breath to stabilise how turned on you are. It’s thick and cloudy between you.

His jaw is sharp, his eyes are trained on the road. He leans over at a red light, sealing your lips together in a kiss that you feel in the pit of your stomach.

As the light turns green and his foot is pressed on the accelerator, you’re leaning over the center console and nuzzling your face into his neck. The deep, woody vanilla smell is your aromatic home.

Your teeth bite gently into the skin before you suck, knowingly marking him. He hisses, his hold on your leg tightening at the sensation. It creeps higher, eager to feel you. Your hand finds itself on his thigh, inching towards where he wants you most.

You know you don’t have much time before you’re due to pull up at your apartment. And you’re impatient by nature. Your lips don’t leave his neck as your hands work to open his belt, clinking buckle and worn leather parted so you can pull down the zipper of his jeans.

“Oh, my god.” He groans, your fingers finding his length through his briefs. You peek out the window, taking note of where you are and knowing you need to be quick about this.

You carefully pull his length from the confines of his pants, wrapping your fist around him. He breaths out a shaky sigh as you touch him, so hot and silky, getting harder and harder for you. You look at him, flicking your tongue along his jawline to meet his ear.

“Spit on my tongue like a good boy.”

Harry’s hand tightens on the steering wheel, trying to keep his cool as if you aren’t fisting his cock and asking him to spit in your mouth. You pull away, opening your mouth wide and raising your brow expectantly.

Flicking his eyes from yours to the road, he swears under his breath before gripping your chin to steady you. He spits in your mouth, feeling so fucking unhinged that his ears are ringing.

You hum, satisfied before you return your attention to his throbbing cock. You spit directly on the head of his dick, using your hand to spread the moisture down the entirety of him. He lets out a soft moan at the slick feel of your tightened fist.

Your nose nudges his cheek as you work him with your hard, his breathing shaky, blissful noises leaving his mouth as you pick up your pace.

“Do you want my mouth on you, baby?” You mewl, your voice so sweet and sugary in his ear.

“You know I do.”

“Beg me.”

Harry clenches his jaw, wound up so tight from you. He can feel the reigns of control gripped surely in your hands, just as firm as your hold on his cock.

“Please, my little fox. Please let me feel your gorgeous mouth wrapped around me, I need it.”

“How badly do you need it?”

“So fucking bad, please let me fuck your throat, I promise I’ll be good.”

“You want me to have a taste?” You’re loving having the power. Hearing him become so desperate for you, shamelessly beg for you.

“Fuck, please. Please taste it.”

You smirk, pleased with how good he’s been for you. You get comfortable, leaning down so your head is practically in his lap. You flick your tongue against the underside of his tip, moving up to swirl your tongue along it. He’s wet with pre-come and so hard for you.

His thighs tense under you, his hand tangling into your hair. Fuck, you’re so perfect. Filling your mouth with his cock while Jimi Hendrix fills the thick air with his voice.

He almost misses his turn as you envelop his tip past your lips, your hot mouth a welcome warmth that he moans at the feel of. Your hand works his shaft, getting him nice and wet so you can slowly take more of him.

Your throat is tight and Harry chokes out a curse as you take most of him, your muscles constricting around him. So big and so thick but you’re determined to have him as deep as he can go.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He sighs, fisting your hair so tight that tears form in your eyes at the sharpness of it.

He tastes heavenly, and as if that isn’t enough, the sounds he makes are otherworldly. They egg you on, spur you to make him feel as good as possible. You work him harder, bobbing up and down while your hand jerks his skin.

Harry is near on sobbing above you, having to focus on the road even though his vision is blurring. The purr of the engine and the wet hot of your mouth is too fucking much. He comes to a stop at a red light a little too harshly and you come up to glare at him.

“Be careful-“

But he’s pushing you back down, his expression almost panicked. Someone’s pulled up next to you at the red light. “Shh, shh, don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop. Shit, that’s fucking good. Oh, my god.”

The light switches to green and after Harry completes a turn, you come up again, your glare even harder this time.

“Who’s in control again?”

“Oh, shit-“

“Answer the fucking question.”

He swallows, panting. “You are, sweet girl.”

“Exactly. If you try to boss me around, I’ll make you sit on your hands while I fuck myself.”

“Jesus Christ-“

“Do you understand? I’ll get out that pink toy you like so much, let it be the only thing that fills my pussy tonight.”

“Fuck, yes I understand. I’m sorry.”

“Will you be a good boy?” You check, on fire with how hot it is being the dominant one tonight.

“Yes, I’ll be your good boy.”

Satisfied with his answer, you swallow him again. Not giving him a second before his tip is nestled right against the back of your throat. You hum around him, the vibrations driving him wild. You can feel him pull over to the curb, and a quick glance out the window tells you that you’ve reached your apartment.

You don’t give him any room to question how the night will go, you simply head inside while he puts his rock-hard dick back into the tight denim of his jeans and chases after you.

At first, you spent an equal amount of time at each other’s apartments. But, over time, it became clear that Harry favours your own abode. So much warmer and homely than his. A woman’s touch that his is missing. He loves your bright green sofa, the stacks of books that serve as little side tables.

It had been an unspoken observation, met by two surging souls. He noticed the little things at first. You started to stock your cupboard with some of his favourite snacks, an extra toothbrush found a home in your bathroom. And, after a while, he barely found himself leaving it.

You’re pressed against the mint-toned refrigerator, fervent lips attached to your neck. You push him away playfully with a raised brow. Always so used to taking you how he wants to, he’s forgotten who’s in control tonight.

He releases a breathy laugh as you walk towards him. He backs away, falling into a chair at the dining table. It’s right where you coerced him, right where you want him.

You strip your shirt off, throwing it over his head and he removes it with a chuckle, not wanting to miss a thing. You decide to discard your bra as well, knowing how much he loves your tits and how much he’ll hate not being able to touch them and play with them.

“You like these pants, Harry?” Your fingers toy with the waistband and he shifts restlessly in his seat.

“I love whatever you wear. You make everything look so fucking sexy.”

You purse your lips. “Great answer.”

Your response has his heart leaping in his chest, feeling as if he just got a gold star. Hoping he can cash it in at some point tonight for an ounce of control.

“And what if I told you that the panties match?” You continue.

“Then I’d fucking beg to see them.”

“Do it, then.”

Your expression is unreadable and he just knows that you’re having too much fun with this.

“Please, let-“

“Uh uh.” You stop him. “On your knees.”

Harry is slow to comply, and maybe it’s so he can coerce a reaction from you. You tap your foot, the white platforms tall and intimidating. He’s on his knees in front of you, his expression soft and pleading as he stares up at you through his lashes.

“Please, baby. Let me see them. I’ve been so good, I promise I’ll behave.”

You scoff. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“I need to see your pretty panties. Your cunt is my favourite place, let me see how you’ve dressed her.”

You try to hide how his words make you feel, and you’re surprised you don’t melt into a puddle next to him. He always says the right thing. Granted, it’s always filthy and shameless, but it’s what you need.

“So desperate.” You smirk, holding his eye contact.

He licks his lips, not even denying it. He’s not ashamed, hell, he’ll even shout it from the rooftops if that’s what you want. His eyes fan down your legs as you peel your pants off, discarding them, left in nothing but your heels and your panties.

The panties are heavenly, ethereal. Mouth fucking watering. He’s surprised there’s not a puddle of drool on the ground next to him. White lace embroidered with golden threaded flowers. So delicate and angelic beneath the glittering excitement of the sequins.

You click your fingers, trying to get his attention. His hand reaches out and you smack it away. “Naughty boy.”

“I’m sorry,” He rasps. “I’ll keep my hands to myself. I promise.”

“What about your mouth?”

“It’s yours to use.”

His curls are a mess atop his head, falling down his forehead in chocolate tendrils. His chest is heaving, his hands clenched into impatient fists he wants to grip your hair while he fucks you.

You take a single step forward, his face level with your panties. He’s so close that you can feel his hot breath fan over your core, so needy for him. You’re sure that the panties are saturated at this point, you can feel how wet you are and just know you’ll leave his face a mess.

You bring one of your feet up and rest it on the chair right behind him. Harry gulps, waiting for your next instruction.

“Do you like them?” You ask, your fingers toying with the band of the panties at your hips.

“Yes, so fucking much.”

“Such a dirty mouth.”

You lean down, gripping his chin so hard his jaw drops. Harry’s not expecting you it when you spit on his tongue, it’s messy, speckling on his lips a little. He moans deep in his chest, keeping his mouth open, ready to obey.

“I’ll have to give it something better to do.” You coo, pulling your panties to the side to expose your core to him.

At the sight of your glistening pussy, Harry shifts on his knees, so desperate to taste you. To bury his face against you, fuck you with his tongue while his nose presses against your clit. Bossy little fox, he’s trying to behave but it’s so fucking hard.

Your fingers run along your clit, further down to where you’re wettest. You spread your arousal, swirling along the sensitive bundle of nerves. Harry’s nostrils flare at the sight, your moans are soft as you touch yourself.

Anchoring your foot on the chair with your center right in front of his face, your hand takes a fistful of his hair. With your hold on him, you bring his face forward, putting his mouth directly on your cunt.

His mouth is searing hot, so wet against you. Not wasting any time, Harry flicks his tongue out, between your folds to collect your wetness and closing his lips around your clit in a kiss. You throw your head back with an unsteady sigh, finally getting the attention that you’ve been craving all night.

It started as an electric throbbing, intensified every time he looked at you or touched you. Now it feels like a wildfire that blooms in the pit of your stomach and flares through to every nerve in your body.

Harry, finally happy to be allowed to touch you, eats your pussy with ardent lust. He’s desperate, frantic almost. You moan loudly at how good he is at this. How good he makes you feel, how desirable. He loves your body, loves touching it, making it hum for him.

You roll your hips forward, unable to contain yourself. He nibbles gently on your clit and you gasp out, pulling on his hair. His eyes flicker up to you, sparkling with mischief before they close as he hums, tasting you deeper, getting you wetter.

Your legs shake as he targets your clit even more, knowing it drives you fucking mad. You put your foot back on the ground, pulling your core away from him. His mouth chases after it, not ready to not have you on his tongue. Your taste drives him mad and he’s a man addicted.

He stands, desperate to have you but you push him back roughly. He lands on the chair with a thud, staring up at you with a bewildered expression. His curls are even more of a mess at this point.

“Let me taste you. I’ll make you come as many times as you want.”

“What did I tell you about that mouth?”

“You’ve soaked your pretty panties, sweet fox. Better take 'em off.”

You move to stand in front of him, gripping his jaw in your hand. Harry’s so fucking turned on, his cock unbelievably hard beneath his denim jeans that it’s starting to hurt.

“Stop talking.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The glint in his eyes does little to instill your confidence in him. He’s far too cocky, too cheeky to actually obey you. He’ll find a way to capture the reigns at some point, but not yet. You’re only just getting started.

As gracefully as you can, you sit upon the table in front of him. Harry swears under his breath at the sight, immediately lurching forward almost as if it’s an instinct. Your heeled foot presses against his chest, halting him before pushing him back into his seat.

You make him wait, spreading your legs. He pants, his eyes flicking between your panties and your face. Waiting. So patient.

“Take my panties off.” You instruct. He raises his hand and you tut. “Uh uh, use your teeth.”

Harry growls, placing his hands on the edges of the table and licking a bold stripe up your thigh. You tense, wishing his tongue was back on your cunt but you know this payoff will be good.

His nose runs along the edge of your panties, right next to where you want him. He flicks his tongue out against your inner thigh and your legs jump at the attention. His teeth meet the band at your hip, drawing it down slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours once, ensnared in you.

With one side lowered to your upper thigh, he moves to the other side, sucking the skin of your navel right above the band of your panties. You gasp as a mark forms before he pulls down your panties from your hip.

You shift your hips up, helping him peel them down your legs, taking them in his fist and shoving them in his pocket.

“Good boy.” You praise. “Come get your taste.”

The words have barely left your lips before his mouth is on your cunt again. Vibrating against you as a moan rocks through him. You taste so fucking good, maybe even more than usual because of how withholding you’ve been.

You collapse against the table, the surface cool against your back. His enthusiasm is unparalleled. The kind of pleasure he gives so easily used to be the kind you could only fake with partners. But he does everything so well.

“Perfect little pussy,” He coos against you.

He traps your clit between his teeth before flicking the tip of his tongue against it. You cry out, your thighs closing around his head. He delves his tongue south, finding your entrance and gathering the gushing wetness.

He doesn’t hesitate to go further down, his tongue massaging your rare entrance briefly before he’s pulling back and spitting directly on your pussy. His eyes meet yours and you just about pass out at the sight of his face fucking saturated with you. Almost dripping off of his soaked chin.

You grip his head, pushing him back down. He’s happy to oblige, eating you out so fast and intense that your vision starts to blur.

“Fuck, yes right there, oh my god.”

He sucks on your clit, humming to vibrate the area. You come up to rest on your elbows, wanting to watch him. You roll your hips up and he becomes idle, letting you fuck his face. He falls back into the chair, his hand coming down to massage his dick through his jeans while you grind your cunt against him.

“Are you going to come in your pants while you eat my pussy?” Your tone is verging on condescending and Harry almost finishes right then and there.

His cock throbs at your words, so out of it for him. He feels unhinged, so close to shutting you up and plunging his length into you. You’re so wet and so sweet for him, it would be so easy to slide into your plush cunt and feel your walls grip him like a fist. But he wants you to come like this first.

“Let me give you my fingers, baby. Want you to squirt all over me, make a fucking mess of me. Please let me.”

“Not… yet…” You breathe out, even though you feel so fucking close you could scream.

As if sensing your control slipping, you push him away. You can feel your orgasm brewing and you know that as soon as it hits, you’ll be a writhing mess and your game will come to a finish the second that you do.

“What-“

“I don’t want to come yet.” You gasp, your chest heaving and your core tingling with heat.

“You really want to play this game, little fox?”

You stand your ground. “Go get on the bed.”

Your bedroom is his favourite place. Warm yellow and orange ambiance, a wide bed with crushed velvet bedding. That in abundance with your fervor and passion, Harry swears it’s like sleeping in the sun. Golden, burning desire, deliciously cocooning beams of sunny adoration that wash over you.

As if he’s missed the warmth of it, he sits eagerly on the edge of your bed with a soft bounce. He peels off his shirt, feeling too hot to keep it on. His belt is already undone, he unbuttoned his jeans and you tap your foot.

You saunter towards him, a prowess with hauntingly lustful eyes. He clenches his jaw, feeling your wetness decorate his chin mouth still. You push him flat onto the bed, crawling to straddle him. Your core presses against the fly of his jeans and you can feel how hard his cock is.

His hands find your hips immediately and you push them away with a glare.

“Keep your hands off.”

“Make me.”

Taking it as a challenge, you lean over to the bedside table and open the middle drawer. A draw often opened whenever you and Harry find yourself tangled up in these sheets. A drawer of trust and exploration. You grab a few things, hiding one object under the pillow so he doesn’t see it.

With two pieces of rope, you tie around his wrists and attach the ropes to the steel rings in your headboard. Harry had them installed as soon as he realised how much you loved being restrained in bed. Turns out, he enjoys it just as much.

Your relationship with Harry is a constant stream of excitement. At first, you thought that potentially he would always have the upper hand. But the reality is, you’re two equal souls in every aspect. You split bills, you wear each other’s clothes, you both had control in bed. It has never been like this, though. Tonight is new and different.

He allows you to tie him up, barely tensing his muscles and pulling on the restraints. You know that you’ll be unable to untie him in a split second if he wants to, but the smug look on his face tells you he’s content. For now.

You scoot up, sitting on his chest, smooth and inked. You spread your legs, settling your feet on either side of him. Harry licks his lips at the sight of your core right in front of him. He can see that you’re almost dripping and he wants to catch it with his tongue.

He has no idea what you have planned, only knows that you’re having too much fun playing with him like this.

His eyes watch your every movement, on edge yet intrigued to see what you’ll do next. One hand reaches down to palm his cock through his jeans. He shifts his head back into the pillow with a low groan. Now that you’ve successfully distracted him, your other hand reaches for the other item you retrieved from the draw.

Upon hearing you sigh, his eyes fly open. You have the pink dildo in your hand, running it between your saturated folds. Harry pulls on the restraints, wanting to touch you so fucking bad.

“Holy shit.”

You bite your lip, gripping his cock harder. You pull down the zipper, slipping your hand inside. His briefs are wet with arousal and you push past the barrier of them to find his bare cock.

You lean back a little, fully exposing yourself and slipping the tip of the toy lower. His eyes are full of pleading as you slowly push it inside with a soft mewl. Your hand remains on his cock, slowly working the skin.

“Baby-“

“What?” You raise your brow.

“Please, fuck me instead.”

You smirk, slowly shifting your hips as the tip of the toy sits snugly inside of you. You push it in further, your eyes fluttering at the full sensation of it. It’s nowhere near as good as Harry, but you moan like it is.

Harry shifts with a growl, seeing you look so blissful from something other than him driving him mad. His favourite little gasp you make when he first pushes his cock past your tight walls is now ushered because of a fake dick.

You throw your head back, starting to fuck yourself with the toy. So wound up from the entire night. You work the dildo faster, stirring yourself into a frenzy. Not holding back your moans and cries because you can feel how tense Harry is beneath you because of them.

“Fuck, please stop.” He whimpers, so desperate to have you.

You moan loudly. “I’m so close.”

“Please, oh my fucking god. Please, let me fuck you, I can’t take it. I need to make you come. Please. I’ll do anything please just-“

While he rambles, you grab your panties from his pocket and shove them in his mouth, shutting the stream of begs off right at the source. He garbles around the intrusion, pissed off now. You lick your hand and reach behind you, gripping his cock again.

“Be. Good.”

He growls, slamming his head back into the pillow in annoyance. You continue fucking yourself, grinding your hips. The warmth build and tingles in your lower stomach, the toy pressed tight against your g-spot from this angle.

The warmth blooms and spreads, so close to exploding. Your walls clench mercilessly around the dildo and you gasp at the pleasure building hot and fast. Harry can tell that you’re almost there. Tell that he’s worked you up with his mouth and now you’re edging towards the precipice of euphoria.

“Feels so good,” You gasp. “so fucking big, oh shit.”

Harry bucks his hips up, pulling on the restraints around his wrists until it burns. You reach forward, removing the panties from his mouth. As fun as it is to gag him with them, you miss his voice, miss the dirty words that colour it.

“Give me your pussy now.” He snarls.

“Do you deserve my pussy, Harry?”

“Yes,” He hisses. “I’ve been good for you, haven’t I? Now untie me so I can fuck you.”

“No.”

Harry swears loudly, pulling on the ropes and you’re sure he’s about to break through them. But then he relaxes to glare at you, his nostrils flaring.

“You’re in big trouble, little fox.”

You fuck yourself harder, unfazed. “I’m sure I am.”

“You know that as soon as you untie me I’m going to fucking ruin you, don’t you?”

The threatening promise sets you off, your orgasm hitting you so hard you almost collapse at the pleasure of it, crying out his name. Your vision is blurred, tiny white dots clouding it. You remove the toy just as a burst of clear liquid from your cunt paints Harry’s chest and face.

Harry’s jaw drops as it hits him, his eyes narrowed at your expression. You look gorgeous when you come and from this angle, he can see everything. Feel it as it wets him.

“Fucking shit.” He hisses, surprised that he didn’t just come because of what is the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

You come around quickly, stripping off his shoes and jeans before shifting to settle between his legs. He calls your name as you take his cock in your hand before quickly swallowing him. He grits his teeth, so fucking close to exploding down your throat.

“Untie me.”

Your eyes twinkle with mischief, taking him deeper. Your hand plays with his balls, rolling them in your palm gently. Harry throws his head back, his ears ringing. He snaps his head back up, seeing his glistening chest painted in your orgasm.

And then he feels something circle his ass, nudging very carefully at his rare entrance. The toy. Saturated in your wetness, now about to be used on him. Just the idea of it has his balls pulling up tight and his entire body tingling. If you progress further, he’ll finish before you even get started.

“No, no you naughty little- fuck!”

His cock is tucked snugly down your throat, the sensation unreal as you gag around him. You continue to tease him with the toy and he just about loses it.

“Baby, you gotta stop. I’m right there, fucking stop.”

He starts to almost panic, not sensing you slow down at all. Almost as if possessed, he flexes every muscle in his arms and rips right through the rope restraining his wrists. You jump up in shock, standing at the edge of the bed.

You’re not able to get far as he grips you by your throat and presses his forehead against yours. His chest is heaving as he pushes through his aggression.

“What did I tell you, hm?”

You smirk and it pisses him off further.

His voice is low and dangerous and he grips your throat tighter. “I told you that I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

“You’re all talk.” You manage out past the grip of his hand.

His fingers move from your throat to the nape of your neck. He pushes your face towards his glistening chest.

“Dirty fucking girl. Look at the mess you made. Clean me up and then ask me to fuck you.”

You hum, smiling at how filthy he is. You push him back onto the bed, following after him. Your tongue licks up the mess from your orgasm on his chest, up his neck, and his chin. You suck on his tongue, your limbs feeling like jelly and you know you’ll be a mess before he’s even done with you.

“There’s my good girl.”

You want to defy him a little more. You kiss down his chest again, down his toned stomach, and find his navel with your teeth. He hisses out, taking a fistful of your hair. He’s not falling for this again. He needs to fuck you. Now.

He grabs you, flipping you on your stomach and spanking your ass hard. And then again on the other side. You cry out his name, feeling a little disorientated from the change of position and sudden switch of control.

He’s holding the reigns now.

He bites your reddening cheek, growling out and coming to straddle over you. You turn your head to watch him and he shoves your face into the bedding. You can’t even hide your glee, pleased to have successfully riled him up this much.

He spreads your cheeks, slipping his fingers between your folds to feel how wet you are. He cocks his head to the side with a smile before he wraps his hand around your chin, delving three fingers into your mouth. You suck on them, knowing he wants them nice and wet.

Now wet, he spreads the moisture on his fingers along his cock and lines himself up to your cunt.

He pauses, moving his hand from your head so you can turn to look at him. “Say please.”

“Please fuck me.” You whimper.

“Are you done with your little game?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

And then he’s slamming into you so hard you feel winded. He doesn’t stop, pressing into you before retracting. He fucks you into the mattress, his hands anchored on your hips as he takes you. He knows he won’t last long, so overworked from the whole night. Your cunt is wrapped around him so tight and it doesn’t help.

He spreads your cheeks, spitting directly on your ass and he uses his thumb to spread it. You stifle a moan as he massages the tight area before slowly pressing his thumb in. While he’s slow and gentle there, his cock is splitting you in half, shredding an overwhelming euphoria inside of you that he knows how to build so well.

“Fuck, Harry, so good-“

“Yeah? Is this what you want, hm? Want me to get rough with you?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Mm, or did you just wanna play with me? Tie me up, play with that dildo, squirt all over me, leave me all wet. Fucking tease my ass with the toy you made yourself come with.”

“Fuck, yes. I wanted to tease you.”

“Filthy fucking thing. You think daddy will let you play with his ass like that?”

“Yes, daddy.” You breathe out.

“Think again.” He exchanges his thumb for two fingers, slipping them into your ass with ease and matching his rhythm with his cock.

You can feel the pressure in your stomach as he pushes you against the mattress. He’s so out of it, delirious with his need to fuck you until you’re a blubbering mess. You fist the covers, needing to grip something before you lose it. He’s everywhere. On your tongue, in your ass, your pussy, your fucking soul.

You feel like you’re about to come, and Harry curses as your walls clamp around his cock, feels you tighten around his fingers. He pulls out, moving you onto your side and lying behind you. He kisses you, gripping your outer leg to hold it up. He drags you closer, slipping his cock back into your warmth.

“Fuck, dreamy fucking cunt. My favourite, oh shit.” He’s obsessed with how you feel and you can sense that he’s lost all ability to think straight.

With your arm wrapped around his neck, you roll your hips back to meet his thrusts. You’re so wet for him, the slaps in the room of his skin hitting yours growing louder and louder. He grips your wrists in his hand, licking his fingers on his other hand before reaching down to play with your clit.

He’s notorious. Knowing you’re overly sensitive. He pinches it between his fingers, rolling and rubbing it. You careen forward, so overwhelmed and so close to coming. It’ll shatter you, you can just feel it.

Harry flips you onto your back, coming over you and putting your legs on his shoulders. His hands shake as he reconnects with you and starts fucking you so hard you don’t know which way is up. He loves fucking you this way. He can see everything, see your face, see how hard you shake.

You cry out as he places his hand on your abdomen, pressing down until you can feel his cock and the pressure of it.

“You gonna come, sweet fox?”

You nod, tears forming in your eyes at the intensity of him.

“Yeah? Go on, give it to me.” He encourages.

Almost as if it needed permission from him, your body explodes automatically. Wet, tight, toe-curling. Harry admires how fucking beautiful you look when you come. So out of it, spiraling in a world of pleasure that leaves him wetter than your last orgasm.

“Yes,” He hisses out, lightheaded at how tight you are. “good fucking girl.”

You grip his arms, trying to hold onto anything while it feels like you’re floating through nothingness. Your core is unrelenting, sucking him deeper and deeper, pulsing through the aftershocks of your orgasm. Harry groans, releasing your legs and dropping his face into your neck.

His thrusts turn into grinds, wanting to get as deep as possible inside of you. Addicted to how snug you are.

“Fuck, so close.” He rasps. "Dreamy fuckin' pussy. Made for me. Made for my cock, holy shit."

Your fingers tangle into his hair, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your heels dig into his back and your hands pulling his hair adds to the sensation.

“Come, Harry. Please, I need it.”

“F-Fuck, where?”

“Inside me.” Your words are barely a whisper but he hears them loud and clear, encourages him to fuck you harder.

“Yeah? Want daddy to fill you up with his cum?"

"Please,"

"I’ll give you all of it, get you fuckin' pregnant. Make you give us a baby. Fuuuck, I’ll cum in you every fuckin' day until it happens.”

“Fuck, please.” You whimper, so turned on and in awe of what he’s blabbering about.

Harry’s orgasm hits him like a freight train. He doesn’t stop fucking you through it, grinding and screwing up into you. Your walls are painted with thick white ropes of his cum and you gasp at the feeling of how deep he is. He bites down on your neck, moaning your name with a deep growl.

He kisses you for ages after, his cock softening inside you. Your body feels like a live wire, your heart thumping boldly in your chest. Harry gives you a final kiss before retrieving a washcloth from the bathroom to clean you with.

Your frown at his raw wrists, burned from the rope. “They look sore.”

He shrugs, his eyes kind. “Doesn’t hurt that bad. Let me take care of you.”

So, you let him. He always takes care of you. Takes his time to cherish your body, restore it and clean it. Kiss every inch and tell you how much he loves it. He traces your stretch marks, kisses every freckle, soothes every trembling limb.

And, once he’s done, you reciprocate with another cloth. Gentle kisses, even more gentle touches to his wrists. You run your hands through the mess of curls, cuddling him close as you settle under the covers of your golden abode, feeling warm and loved and content.

“I left my soul at The Score.” Harry comments, running his hands up and down your back.

“You fucked mine out of me.”

His chest shakes as he laughs, kissing your forehead with a chuckle. “It was those damn panties. They possessed me.”

You both laugh softly, wrapped up in each other with tranquil heaven that exists wherever your two hearts are connected.

He has diminished any chance of a sullen existence in a sometimes devastating world, a delicate and colourful essence that was made for you. He’s a burst of light, shrouding any ounce of uncertainty. A rush of adenine that makes life worth the rush. The resolute constant that will cradle and cocoon you. He is every adventure and endeavor. And you’re his sidekick till the very end, benevolent and tender-hearted.

Foxy, bubblegum, snow, and cloudy joints. All are facets that encapsulate two souls melding into one inconceivably free entity.

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐖𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Yoshikage Kira x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I'd be lying if I said American Psycho didn't inspire bits of this fic. [ SYNOPSIS ] Against his better judgment Kira takes you up on your offer to grab some dinner after work. [ WORD COUNT ] 3k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, POV switching (though most of it is written from Kira's POV), he is so goddamn mentally ill, y/n is crushing hard, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, handjob, murder, angst without a happy ending.

Yoshikage Kira never intended to go out to dinner with you. He was already fantasizing about a quiet evening at home as he finished up his work. He could picture it so clearly: sitting at his dinner table eating leftovers from the night before, eventually making his way to the couch to watch mindless television until the early stages of slumber enveloped him, then he would drink a warm glass of milk and do some light stretches before snuggling up under his freshly washed linen sheets, sleeping soundly until morning came.

But for reasons unknown to him, he felt compelled to take you up on your offer. Maybe it was how you walked by his desk six times before getting the courage to actually speak to him. Or maybe it was your feeble attempt at acting nonchalant about it and how cute it was when your desperation trickled through.

“I haven’t had the chance to try shabu-shabu since I moved here and I cannot be seen doing it alone. Think of what that’ll do to my ego.”

He chuckled even though he didn’t find your comment particularly funny. “Find a time when no one is around and go. Then no one will see you.”

“But I’ll know I’m alone. Like, I’ll have to live with that memory for the rest of my life.”

“What if the food is so good you forget about that part?”

“Kira,” you whined. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“I can’t; I have to return some library books. Why not ask someone else?” He leaned back in his chair, trying to see who was still toiling away in the office. “Ah, Natsumi would be a good choice. I bet she eats food.”

You attempted to quiet your laughter with your hands which annoyed him to no end. Who were you to put yourself on display in such a manner?

“I barely talk to her,” you finally said after reeling in your laughter.

“I don’t know what to tell you then. Maybe another night,” he suggested though he hoped you’d never follow up.

“I’ll pay! Please?”

He sighed, denying a cute thing like you was too cruel. “Will you have me home before 8?”

You reached out and put your hand on his shoulder. “Of course I will,” you replied, your tone comically serious. “You can count on me.”

He brushed your hand off of him while making note of how gentle your touch had been. Your hands were a sight to behold, just looking at them made all his blood flow straight to his cock. He crossed his legs and smiled sweetly, trying to maintain a veil of normalcy.

Kira knew he would be testing himself by going on a social outing with you. But it wasn’t as if he was an amateur. There had been plenty of times he didn’t let his urges get the better of him, even when presented with the perfect opportunity to indulge. He was more than capable of exercising self restraint. Besides you were his coworker. Killing you was far too risky. That in itself was enough of a deterrent.

“Do you have somewhere in mind?” He asked.

You nodded. “There’s a place not too far from here. It’s a few blocks down.”

“Have you heard good things about it?”

“No, terrible things. A guy got food poisoning and died in the bathroom with his pants around his ankles. They say his ghost haunts the restaurant to this very day with his dick hanging out.”

“Oh I love that,” Kira said quietly as he shut down his computer.

“Thought you would.”

He cleared his throat and looked up from his monitor. “I’ll meet you out front. I need to take care of a few things before we leave.”

You nodded and strolled off, unaware of the mental anguish that plagued him. Kira glanced down at his lap, watching as his cock fought against the fabric of his pants. He slowly got up, careful to obscure his erection with his quivering hands. Dizzy and humiliated, he skulked into the bathroom and quickly relieved himself. As he squeezed the shaft of his cock he fantasized about how your disembodied hand would feel stroking his tender flesh.

“Stop it,” he mumbled, hoping verbalizing his morality would make it appear.

Misery enveloped Kira as he washed his hands. He was careful to not look in the mirror, unable to bear the sight of himself. He breathed deeply as he unlocked the bathroom door, pulling it open only to be greeted by your expectant presence.

“I felt weird standing around in the lobby.”

He couldn’t follow your logic, but your earnest demeanor was precious so he didn’t think too hard about it.

“Great,” he choked out.

There was a sense of relief once the two of you were out in the world, away from the office. The air seemed lighter, the lights not so blinding and unforgiving. He was at ease as he walked beside you, your hands brushing up against his on occasion. Your disruption was more harmonious than he previously surmised. It was wrong to assume you were a woman of strife and discord. You were more benign than that. You were like petting a kitten that had been napping in a puddle of sunlight. Your presence carried the weight of a reassuring hug. He wanted to melt in your arms and drown in your sweetness.

Everything was painted in a blushy-orange hue as the sun slowly set. It gave your face an angelic quality as it danced across your face. To say you looked picturesque was an understatement. Nothing could shit on this moment; nothing could annihilate his peace. He was sure of it.

“This is… it,” you said sadly, noticing that the restaurant was in fact closed.

Suddenly everything came crashing down. Kira felt like he was going to vomit into his shoes.

“What a shame,” he said, voice straining. He was convinced he could cry at any moment.

Your eyes darted around. “We could get udon,” you said, pointing at a restaurant across the street.

Kira spun around and nearly moaned as relief filled his chest. It was directly across the street, its existence a good omen. He could have kissed you for pointing it out.

“Yes,” he said, wiping his eyes. “We can get udon.”

You gave him a confused look. Damn, he must really love udon.

Dinner went well. You both ordered the same thing, but that was only because Kira wanted to mirror you and what he perceived as your moral superiority. You talked about work, expressing similar grievances. He rarely voiced his discontent to anyone, let alone his coworkers, but you disarmed him. Everything he knew and held dear was now flexible; he didn’t mind bending a little for you.

You upheld your part of the bargain and covered the bill without a second thought. He contemplated paying for everything while you weren’t paying attention, but you were too quick.

“You could have at least let me pay for half,” he said as you signed the receipt.

You smiled. “Nah.”

The sun had set and the streets were not bustling with as much life. The sidewalks were practically empty. Eight o’clock was growing near, putting Kira on edge. His confidence in his self control was waning. It was time to go home.

“Well I’ll see you on Monday. Thank you for dinner. It was nice.”

“You don’t wanna hang out for a little longer? Maybe grab some tea? Pudding? Anything?”

He clenched his fists, nails piercing his palms. Your company was now a burden to bear. He knew you wouldn’t make it out alive if you stuck around.

“You know you wanna have tea with me,” you purred. 

A playful grin adorned your face. It was true. Kira did want to have tea with you, but not like this. He wanted to be with you under the warm gaze of a perpetual sunset. He wanted perfection, but the circumstances made it impossible, sullying it all. The longer he was around you like this, the more he wanted to hurt you.

“I doubt anywhere decent is open,” he said firmly.

“We can go back to my place! I actually have this really good genmaicha if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Fuck, he thought to himself. I am into that sort of thing!

“Alright, a cup or two won’t kill me.”

“Me neither. Let’s gooooo.”

He could control himself; he could show a semblance of restraint. Maybe spending more time around you would let him realize your true value. If he liked you enough, surely he’d want to keep more than just your hand around. And it would be nice to have a friend at work, someone to make him seem like a typical guy.

He sighed and convinced himself everything would be fine.

And it was. When the two of you arrived at your home, Kira was pleasantly surprised by its comforting warmth. It was no sunset. But it was close enough, disarming him all the same. He made himself comfortable on your couch. You prepared the tea, blethering about your interests. He watched you intently, taking in every little movement you made.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you said, placing a cup of tea in front of him. “But you have the eyes of a hunter.”

“What?!”

Suddenly he was trying to look as doe-eyed as possible. He couldn’t believe his mask was already slipping.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you laughed, nervously scratching the base of your skull.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh my god, don’t be,” you cooed as you took a seat beside him. “It’s not a bad thing. I—I, uh…”

You cut yourself off by taking a big sip of tea.

“What was that last part?” He asked, taking off his Valentino jacket. 

He carefully folded it and hoped the wrinkling would be minimal. He then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to feel less constricted, a little freer.

“Uh,” you mumbled, staring at his toned forearms. “It’s, like, attractive. I’m saying that objectively.”

You were courting him in the shadows. He wanted to shake you and beg you to stop, to end this nonsense, to kick him out of your home for his predator eyes. All the time Kira spent trying to shield you from it didn’t mean a thing. It made him ill. And it wasn’t as if he could tell you to stop being flirtatious because it made him want to kill you. If you knew that he was a demon with a thin veneer of sanity, he’d lose you forever.

“Thank you,” he said, sipping his tea.

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t scooped you up already.”

“I don’t really like to make myself… scoopable.”

“Fair enough,” you said, scooching closer to him. “So, you’re not seeing anyone then?”

He paused. “I am not.”

You placed your hand on his thigh, fingers grazing the inside of it. He stared down at your hand like it was a grenade.

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” you said bashfully.

Kira felt like he was going to implode.

“You know… I’ve always had a bit of a,” you coughed nervously, “crush on you. I don’t know why. I just feel drawn to you.”

His cock throbbed under his pants, begging to be freed. His carnal needs were taking over. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually fucked someone, and seeking solace in your cunt sounded endlessly appealing.

“Is that so?”

You nodded and squeezed his thigh. His body ached for you, all of you. He wanted to have every bit of it in his mouth and cover your skin with his cum.

“I need you, Yoshikage,” you said, pulling yourself into his lap. Your hands gripped his shirt.

He didn’t know what to say. You were seeing him too clearly. Hearing you say his name made it all too real. But still there was some allure to it. Rarely did Kira ever feel desired and it was clear as day that you wanted him. It stroked his ego in ways he never thought possible.

“Tell me how much.”

Your hands were now unfastening the buttons of his shirt.

“I’d rather die than be without your touch,” you mewled, rolling your hips against him.

Kira felt like his heart was caught in his throat.

You kissed his cheekbone. “Let’s go to my room.”

He followed you to your room and watched as you removed your work clothes. Your body was incredible, delectable, and he wanted to consume it. It was like a sun ripened peach, dewy and glistening under a full moon. He wondered how it would feel to sink his teeth into your flesh, how sweet your arousal must taste.

Kira did the same, carefully undressing and making sure his clothes wouldn’t look like crumpled paper once he put them back on. His ego sang as you took in his naked form. He knew he was physical perfection, a body in the image of a Bernini sculpture. Your eyes were wide, eager, and starving.

You crawled onto the bed, resting on your back with your legs spread wide. He had a perfect view of your slick cunt, one that nearly made him drool. Unable to contain himself, he got onto the bed and buried his head between your thighs. He lapped at your folds, the tip of his nose brushing up against your swollen clit.

He looked up at you and watched as you grabbed your breasts, pinching your nipples between your fingers.

“Feels s’good,” you mumbled in a blissed out daze.

Kira gave your clit slow, languorous licks, savoring the sweet taste of your arousal. He found himself rutting against the mattress, desperate to feel some form of friction. The sounds of your breathy moans sent him spiraling into a pit of pleasure and despair. His urges were creeping around him, whispering in his ears.

I wonder if she’d make the same noises if you sliced her up a bit.

He closed his eyes and focused on kissing the inside of your thighs while he slipped his fingers inside you. Your moans grew louder, more comely, as he curled them.

“More,” you moaned as you laced your fingers in his wavy, flaxen hair.

Show her the real Yoshikage Kira.

“I want your cock,” you whimpered.

He got on top of you, his blue eyes lost in your haze of ecstasy. Lust radiated off of you, drawing him in. There was no way he could deny you.

He guided his cock inside you, tossing his head back as it was surrounded by the plush heat of your cunt. You locked your legs around him, clinging to his body like your life depended on it. He loved every minute of it; feeling wanted and needed was the best sensation in the world. He was sure of it.

His thrusts were languid and sensuous. Kira liked to take his time while fucking. He was never plagued by the overwhelming reflex to come as fast and hard as possible. He preferred to focus on the needs of his partner, slowly drawing out their transcendent moans. He was hypervigilant in his awareness. You couldn’t hide a thing from Kira. He noticed every muscle twitch, every gasp and groan, every gloriously enraptured expression.

“How does it f—feel?” You asked.

He didn’t want to speak. He felt safer with his mouth shut.

You tightened your cunt around his cock.

“Shit,” he choked out as he bottomed out.

You let out a deep moan and dug your fingernails into his shoulders. Your orgasm flowed through your body, replacing your blood with unadulterated ardor. Your sweet sounds filled the room, overwhelming him.

“I can’t,” he spat out abruptly.

He pulled his cock out of you and rolled gracelessly off the bed.

“Huh?” You were in a fucked out daze.

“I have to go.”

“Is this about the library books?”

He shook his head. “No. I j—I have to leave.”

“Can you at least tell me why?”

“I’m afraid if I stay I’ll do something to you.”

You gave him a confused glare. “What are you talking about?”

KIra stared down at his hands, hoping they would have an answer.

“There is something terrible happening inside me and I don’t want it to interfere with my work life.”

You sat up, your annoyance was tangible and took up space in the room. Your eyes were fixed on his erect cock.

“No one has to know.”

“But—”

“Come on. Let me make you happy before you leave, hm?”

His eyes darkened. “You want to make me happy?”

“Yes. I wanna be filled with your cum,” you begged.

He walked over to the bed and grabbed your right wrist.

“Jerk me off.”

“Uh. Okay,” you said, squeezing his swollen shaft.

Precum dribbled out from the tip, coating your hand and you serviced him. You didn’t look enthused, but you gave it your all.

“Good girl,” he choked out as his cock spurted cum over your chest.

Kira looked down at you, trying to memorize your face since this was the last time he’d see it. He would miss your goofiness and your sweetness, but living without it wasn’t impossible. Life would just go back to the way it was before, the way it should be. Home by 8:00 PM. A glass of warm milk. Stretching.

Surely you would understand why he had to do it.

“Whoa,” you said suddenly. “Wha—what’s that fucking pink thing behind you?”

He panicked and Killer Queen vaporized your body, leaving nothing behind. Kira fell to the ground and buried his face into the side of the mattress. The pain in his chest was sharp and raging. He wished he could go back in time and never agree to dinner. He would have forced Natsumi to go with you. He would have insulted you to your face. Anything to keep you away from him.

Kira was at a loss, alone in your home. He had no idea if anyone saw him come in or if anyone at the office knew you two had gone out. He cursed himself for being so reckless and began to sob. His hubris has gotten the better of him.

What a waste. But don’t worry. There will be another one.

Before you ask: yes, y/n was a stand user. Her stand was Baby One More Time and she could bring plants back from the dead.

[sethsclearwater]

request: “hi i love your writing! can i request a sethxreaderxpaul where the reader has had a super stressful day or something and breaks down crying and the boys comfort her?”

warnings: mentions of reader forgetting to eat (it’s like 2 lines)

word count: 1.88k

…

your day started off pretty shitty if you were being blunt. both of your boyfriends were gone when you woke up and you weren’t entirely sure where they went to but assumed it had something to do with patrol so you’d shrugged it off and got up to get ready for work only to find out that you’d started your period sometime during the night and bled through your bedsheets.

by the time you had thrown the sheets in the washing machine and gotten ready for work, you were already running late. you worked at the same community college as emily, except you taught english while she taught art. your first class was anxiously waiting for you when you got in, only for all of you to quickly find out that your laptop wouldn’t turn on and you weren’t able to teach anything you had planned. 

you quickly dismissed the class and spent the rest of the day grading papers while the tech guys attempted to figure out what was going on with your computer. emily popped by your office towards the end of the day, smiling when she realized you had hung up some of the art she had given you.

“everything alright? i heard your first class was terrible.” she joked, taking a seat at the chair in front of your desk and you nodded, rolling your eyes. 

“i don’t think today could have gone any worse.” you explained exasperatedly, both of you letting out breathy laughs as you sat back and took a moment to process just how awful everything was.

emily offered you a soft smile, “well i don’t know if you saw but they’re telling everyone to leave early because of the storm coming through tonight. you want me to drop you off at your apartment?” she suggested thoughtfully and you nodded, not needing any further convincing to go home and chill out. 

you quickly packed your stuff up and followed emily out to her car watching the dark sky wearily, knowing the storm tonight was supposed to be awful. while you drove back to emily’s house, sam called and she picked up with the bluetooth in her car, “hey sam,” emily smiled, “i’m just dropping y/n off at her apartment then am coming back.” she started, already anticipating he’d be asking when she was going to be coming home.

while the two of them talked, you leaned against the window, watching as the rain slowly started to come down, the thunder and lightning letting you know the storm would likely be hitting in the next 30 minutes or so. soon enough she had pulled up to your apartment and you two quickly said your goodbyes before you ran into the apartment. 

seth and paul still weren’t back and you started regretting not listening to sam and emily’s conversation in the car, figuring you would’ve known more if you would have. you threw you bags down on the kitchen table before heading into the bathroom to take a bath. 

you pulled your hair into a bun before lighting a candle, kicking your clothes off, and quickly getting into the tub, the warm water instantly helping with your period cramps and stress. you grabbed your phone, putting on some adele before setting your phone to the side and closing your eyes. 

you had about 5 minutes of peace before you heard the front door open and close followed by seth and paul’s voices complaining about how horrendous the rain was. you groaned, sinking further into the tub as you remembered you never put the sheets back on the bed. 

“what the fuck-” paul groaned, also quickly realizing the sheets were missing from the bed. seth seemed to be the less frustrated of the two as he headed into the bathroom, clicking the lights on. “why is adele playing?” he continued, groaning before seth cut him off.

“jesus christ y/n!” seth yelled, clearly startled that you were in there. paul came in a few moments later, also looking just as confused as seth to see you in the bathroom. 

“for fuck’s sake seth turn the lights off.” you whined, throwing your arm over your eyes as you waited for your boyfriend to click the lights off, “you’re a supernatural shapeshifter how did you not know i was in here?” you continued, feeling awfully close to losing your shit.

seth let out a soft sigh before he sat down at the edge of the tub, “‘m sorry pretty girl. i didn’t know you were in here.” he cooed, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before getting back up. with the lights off, you took your arm off your eyes so you could see both of your boyfriends lit by the candlelight who also looked just as stressed out as you.

“‘m sorry,” you murmured to seth who was quick to forgive your outburst a few moments ago, offering you a smile as he bent down to press a kiss to your lips before getting back up, “i’m taking it everyone had a bad day?” you asked softly, all three of you letting out breathy laughs as you each processed how horrible each of your days went. 

paul turned the shower on, quickly kicking off his sweatpants as he got in the shower. “you want some company?” seth asked you as he pulled his clothes off as well and you nodded, shifting so seth could get in behind you. you quickly leaned against his chest, allowing him to rub at your shoulders.

“you wanna talk about it?” paul asked from behind the now steamed-up shower glass and you just sighed. 

“i mean-” you started, instantly bursting into tears as you finally let your emotions out for the first time all day.

seth sighed, scooping you up so he could hold you close to his chest, “pretty girl,” seth murmured, “you’re okay.” he reassured, holding your head close to his chest while you cried it out for a minute. 

paul quickly picked up on what was happening, “princess,” he said softly from his spot in the shower, “did something happen?” he asked and you shook your head, just curling further into seth’s chest.

you sniffled, taking a deep breath before deciding to try and tell them what went down, “literally everything went wrong.” you sniffled again, “i started my period this morning, bled through the sheets, my cramps are horrible, i was late to work, my computer broke, and then couldn’t teach. it was horrible.” you explained and seth nodded, gently brushing the tears away from your cheeks with his thumbs. 

“oh pretty girl,” seth murmured, sliding one of his hands down to your hip so he could gently massage the tense muscles on your lower back, “did you eat anything today?” he asked softly and you shook your head, now realizing that you had been so frustrated all day that you managed to completely forget to eat anything. 

paul sighed, turning the shower off and drying himself off, “you wanna order takeout? i’m not in any kind of mood to be cooking right now.” he asked and you nodded, smiling a bit when he bent over to press a kiss to your forehead before grabbing his phone and calling your favorite local chinese restaurant to place an order. 

“you feeling a little better?” seth asked softly and you nodded, cupping his face with your hands so you could press a kiss to his lips, your silent way of thanking him for calming you down.

he smiled, “why don’t we get you into bed, yea? then we can watch some HGTV.” he offered and you nodded, allowing him to help you up and out of the tub. he took his time drying you off and helping you into your pajamas before escorting you into the bedroom where paul was laid down. he had apparently gotten the sheets out of the dryer while seth was helping you as the sheets looked good as new without your period blood on them. 

when paul noticed you, he opened his arms, allowing you to crawl on top of him, quickly wrapping his arms around you, “you had a bad day too?” you mumbled into his chest, both boys letting out soft laughs. 

“horrible. maybe even worse than yours.” paul teased as seth crawled in next to you, gently running his hand up and down your back as you let out a soft laugh. 

“that bad?” you asked, peeking up at paul and then over to seth, both of them nodding, “well are you gonna tell me about it?” 

both boys let out soft laughs, “your bestie emmett accidentally crossed the river while we were chasing that vampire and it turned into a whole debacle for nothing.” seth explained, “i seriously didn’t think anyone took that treaty seriously anymore but apparently we do.” he sighed, all three of you letting out laughs at the stupidity of how horribly all of your days went. 

“your cramps feeling any better?” paul asked softly and you nodded, letting out a soft sigh of relief as he kneaded his fingers against your love handles. 

a knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts for a moment and seth got up, “just the takeout guy.” paul reassured, pressing a kiss ot your forehead as seth went to grab your order from the door.

he came back a few moments later and paul sat up with you, “i can’t believe you haven’t eaten anything all day,” seth started, handing you a spoon and box of your favorite fried rice.

paul nodded, taking one of the other boxes from seth, “no wonder you’re upset. period, no food, and a bad day?” he teased and you giggled, sighing happily as you finally got some food in your system. 

“there you go. you’re not teaching tomorrow right?” seth asked and you shook your head, offering him a bite of your fried rice which he gladly took.

“good, we’ll be here all day too. sam said the storm is supposed to be getting bad later tonight and isn’t supposed to let up until tomorrow night so we can stay here, yea?” he suggested thoughtfully and you nodded, happy to hear that the three of you could just have a relaxing day tomorrow instead of more chaos. 

the three of you quickly settled into bed, finishing your fried rice while seth turned on HGTV for you to watch while you wound down for the night. “sleepy?” seth asked, taking your takeout box from you and setting it down on the nightstand while you laid down, resting your head in his lap while paul continued to knead at your lower back with his free hand.

you nodded, “go to sleep then princess, we’ll be here.” paul cooed and you didn’t need to be told twice, closing your eyes and quickly drifting off in between the two of them, finally happy to get some sleep after the long day.

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (pt.1)

A Matty Healy Fanfiction

cw: nightmare, boring plot set up (I promise Matty comes in, pls bear w me)

Chapter 1

I woke up shivering. Sweating. Stomach-churning. Sitting up and shaking my head, I grabbed the book from my nightstand and started reading to distract myself before I could register what I had dreamt and let the tears that had welled up in my sleep fall. I knew the pattern well and I wasn't going to let it ruin yet another morning. Thankfully these dreams happened less often than they used to, maybe once or twice a month now, yet somehow they never seemed to upset me any less.

After a few minutes of reading, I picked up my phone- 48 minutes until my alarm was meant to go off. 

Well, I guess it could've been worse. I sighed to myself. 

Trying to ignore my exhaustion, both emotional and physical, I tore off my sheets and hopped out of bed to start my day. 

Shuffling into the bathroom in my oversized sleeping shirt and thick knit socks, I turned the tap on and plugged the sink, letting the water pool. Splashing water on my face I tried to shake off the sleep that still bogged down my mind. 

The dreams definitely didn't help much with my terrible sleep schedule, though they weren't always the cause of it. I'd always struggled with sleep, ever since I was a child. I was always an anxious kid growing up which led to countless restless nights. I'd gotten better as I'd grown older, but my recurring nightmare set me back into my old habit of staying up too late and waking up too early. Unfortunately, it's something I've grown accustomed to.

As I looked up at myself in the mirror, I saw two green eyes with dark circles under them staring back at me. My dark brown curly shag haircut was messy from the tossing and turning in my bed, the ends dripping wet from the water I'd splashed on my face. 

Suddenly I wasn't there anymore, my vision was replaced with a flashback to my dream, black eyes staring back at me. 

Gone as quickly as it appeared, I once again stared back into my own green eyes, now filled with panic. I dove back into the basin to splash more water on my face. 

I took a deep breath and turned back into my bedroom. Determined to not let my recurring nightmare dictate the rest of my day, I decided I would treat myself. Today I would put on my favourite clothes, do up my hair and makeup and take myself to my new favourite coffee shop.

I opened up the door to the beautiful handpainted wardrobe I'd just bought last week and began to sift through all the hanging fabrics. Picking out my favourite jeans and a long sleeve shirt, I closed the door to my wardrobe and stepped back to admire my new apartment.

I had just moved to London a month ago for a six-month-long residency at an art gallery. I had been shocked when I was first offered it but jumped on the opportunity immediately. A six-month trip to London with free housing and endless hours to work on my art? It was a dream come true. 

The housing that the gallery supplied me with wasn't anything extravagant, but it was definitely charming. My apartment was on the top floor of a three-story walk-up, boasting giant slanting windows that brightened the single-room apartment even on the gloomiest of London days. I had found various charming vintage pieces of furniture and art to spruce up the bland basics I'd originally been supplied with, and it had finally started to feel like a home away from home. 

As I glanced one last time into the full-length mirror, I admired my outfit. My vintage light-wash perfectly worn-in Levi's fit me like a glove, and my new beige fitted long-sleeve mock neck looked effortlessly sexy, the semi-sheer knit material showing my black bralette in a casually immodest way. After I put my thin black sunglasses over my now brown smokey eyes and slid on my black vintage cowboy boots, I popped my AirPods in as I locked my apartment door.

Singing along to the opening lyric of an upbeat playlist, I started to get excited about my little trip to the coffee shop. I had just discovered it last week, finding out that they sold what I believed to be the best cookies I'd ever had in my life. Noticing the sun peaking through spotty clouds, I quickened my step down the stairs into the tube as I decided I'd take my coffee and cookie to a park to finish my book and maybe draw up some new ideas for pieces to make. 

Twenty minutes later I found myself saying "I'll have three cookies please" to the friendly barista, trying and failing to not blush at the fact that I knew that the extra two cookies I was buying for later wouldn't even make it home. 

Excited that they hadn't run out of cookies yet, I stood at the counter, humming and letting my toes tap along to the music in my ears while I waited for my iced latte. Considering how my day had started, I was positively chipper. 

I had already begun to daydream about some new pieces I wanted to sketch out as I stepped out the door of the coffee shop. I was about to turn to walk towards the park when suddenly something slammed into me and I lost my footing, falling straight to the ground. 

Disoriented, I gasped for breath as the air had been knocked out of me. Looking around to see what had hit me, I was met with a pair of chocolate-coloured eyes. 

"Oh fuck! I am so sorry! Are you okay, darlin'?" the eyes asked me earnestly.

I opened my mouth to answer yes before I noticed the searing pain that engulfed my entire chest. 

I winced, and then, I blacked out.

[pinkskytwst]

LION'S PRIDE, HYENA'S CACKLE - Part II

Leona/Prefect/Ruggie romantic poly

The Prefect wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but Leona was acting differently than normal.

They had woken up the last few days after their talk with Ruggie in Savanaclaw as they usually had - curled up in the pallet made of mattresses that the hyena had pushed together in the corner and loaded up with sheets and blankets into a variable nest for the three of them to share – only to find Ruggie still in bed with them. Cuddling was common in Savanaclaw even among those not necessarily close friends, and so snuggling up with Ruggie or Jack with Grim draping himself over their head wasn’t a surprise. It was just that Ruggie was a definite morning person and while it wasn’t at four in the freakin’ morning it was still earlier than they typically woke up.

The hyena had just laughed it off and teased them about being too comfortable before jumping out of bed and getting ready for the day so he could start on Leona’s breakfast.

Some of the few spare sets of clothes they had were already kept in Ruggie’s dresser and so they eventually climbed out of the nest themselves and headed off to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

Therianthropes were less body-shy than humans typically were and they had learned quick to be careful entering there and to not change in there if they didn’t want to be seen or see more than they wanted to.

Ruggie didn’t mind them changing in his room, after all, and so once they were finished and had managed to put some semblance of order to their hair they gathered Grim up in their arms and headed down towards the kitchen.

They hadn’t expected to run into Leona, though, considering the third-year never left his room before noon on the weekends.

“Leona-senpai! Good morning,” they blinked, watching the lion tense slightly as he realized they were there. “Is something wrong? Do you need anything? You aren’t usually up this early.” They said worried, brow furrowed slightly as he watched the upperclassman seem to hesitate before simply turning back to his rooms.

“Tell Ruggie to bring my breakfast up when it’s ready.” Was all he said, not looking at them and walking past with little more than a faint twitch of his nose.

“Oh…okay. Hope you rest well, Leona-senpai.” They said, watching the other until he had disappeared back into his room and the door closed behind him.

“Huh.” They muttered to themself before making their way down the stone stairs and rope walkways to the main floor and kitchens.

“Hey Ruggie.” They greeted, sitting a groggy Grim in one of the counter stools at the large kitchen island before moving to wash their hands. “Is there anything I can help with?” they asked.

“Morning! Sure, I have the fruit all cut up already but do you think you could start on the vibibi?” he asked, looking over from where he was in the middle of pouring some course sugar and something else they couldn’t see properly into a pan, his motions smooth and familiar.

“What are you making?” they asked curiously as they pulled out the covered rice that had been set aside to soak the night before and started to drain it.

“Oh, Leona-san wants kaimati this morning.” He explained. “They’re kind of like the mandazi that I made Wednesday, but with a slightly different recipe.”

“Those were really good! I want some!” Grim demanded, still half asleep but slapping his paws on the counter.

“Grim, you should ask nicely.” They reminded him before looking to Ruggie. “Would you mind if we tried some?” they asked.

“What do I get out of it?” he teased, making them roll their eyes. “I am helping make Leona-senpai’s breakfast for you.” They pointed out.

“Yeah, but you offered to do that on your own.” He grinned unrepentantly.

“See, henchman! This is why you shouldn’t be too nice! People like this tricky jerk takes advantage of you!” Grim complained, sticking his tongue out when the hyena just laughed.

The Prefect huffed but couldn’t hide their smile. “Fine, fine, I’ll also help you with folding laundry later.” They offered, making Ruggie’s ears perk up.

“That sounds fair.” He said happily, tail flicking back and forth as he continued to work.

The Prefect smiled and shook their head but turned back to their own tasks and began the process of blending the rice and coconut cream and spices into the fine almost-liquid that the batter was meant to be. Once that was done, he covered it and set it aside to rise.

“Should I get out the stuff for bacon and eggs too?”

“Sure, Leona-san would throw a fit if I brought him breakfast without meat of some kind.” He hissed a laugh.

They snorted softly as they moved around the kitchen, gathering things and waving to a couple of other Savanaclaw students that were emerging from their rooms.

“That’s right, I forgot to mention, I saw Leona-senpai in the hall when I was coming down.” They admitted, causing Ruggie’s ear to flick in their direction.

“The guy was actually up? Wow, that’s a first.” He chuckled. “What’d he say?”

“Nothing really,” they shrugged as they set out some of the egg cartons and hunted for the bacon that everyone knew was strictly for the Housewarden. “He just said for you to bring up his breakfast when it was finished.”

Ruggie rolled his eyes. “As if I don’t always do that.” He snorted before waving it off. “Whatever, he can wait.”

“Is Leona-senpai alright?” they asked bit concerned. “He’s been kind of…I don’t know, just weird and on edge the last few days.” They admitted softly, not really wanting anyone to listen in. “Is he stressed about something?”

Ruggie shrugged. “Who knows with that guy. Could be his brother bugging him about something or it could just be that he’s in heat.”

The Prefect’s face exploded with a dark blush, and they threw a spoon at the hyena while said boy cackled with bright laughter at their reaction. Ruggie easily caught it, but he had to hold onto the counter for keep his balance from falling over.

“Don’t say things like that!” they glared, completely flustered. “Do you know how embarrassing it was when I told Jack he could come stay at Ramshackle if he ever needed privacy for those and he thought I was some kind of weird pervert!?”

Ruggie was wheezing at this point and almost collapsed against the counter.

“Ruggie!! You can’t just make stuff up like that! HE THOUGHT I WAS TRYING TO PROPOSITION HIM!”

The hyena was dying. He couldn’t breathe.

The Prefect threw a damp towel at him.

“Well, ya were, weren’t cha?” Grim asked as he pulled one of the bowls of fruit closer and began munching on the cubes.

“NO I WASN’T!”

“I can’t…stop…you're gonna kill me.”

“Ya wanted him to help with history, though, right? Ya wanted to make a deal and that’s what Azul always says.” The feline monster said innocently, sending a disgruntled look at Ruggie when the second year slid to the floor and his human somehow managed to turn an even darker shade of red.

“That’s not-Grim don’t-…that’s not what that means!” they stammered desperately, wishing they could wipe the whole memory of the incident from their brain.

“Uh…is everything alright in here?” a familiar voice asked as they looked over to see Jack poking his head into the kitchen area with a raised eyebrow.

He looked sweaty and rumpled, probably just getting back from his jog with Vil.

“I’m about to feed Leona hyena steak for breakfast!” the Prefect blustered, stepping over and shoving Ruggie’s side with their foot lightly. “You hear that, puppy! It’s not that funny! Stop laughing!”

Of course this didn’t help in the slightest and Ruggie just propped himself up enough to tilt his head back and cackle at Jack’s expression.

“Just…hahaha…sharing some therianthrope…shishishi…culture.” He said with delight. “Don’t worry, Jack…shishishi…if you need, hah, spend some private time over at Ramshackle I’ll…make sure Leona approves!” he giggled delighted at the realization dawned on the wolf and the much larger male gained a similarly flushed tone. “The Prefect will…shishishi…take care of you.”

“Ruggie-senpai!” Jack exclaimed before quickly making his retreat, sending the hyena into another round of breathless laughter.

“You’re the worst.” The Prefect pouted, trying to push back their blush and turning to focus on their own cooking instead to ignore the shaking pile of their friend on the floor. “I need better friends. Kalim is really sweet and he doesn’t make fun of me! I mean Jamil is kind of intense but he’s hot too so that’s at least an upside. I could totally make better friends.” They muttered embarrassed.

“Ya should definitely replace him!” Grim agreed readily.

Ruggie finally managed to gain control of his laughter for the most part and dragged himself back to his feet. He slid up behind the Prefect and wrapped his arms around their waist and buried his face into the back of their neck, his left over giggles tickling their skin.

“You love me.” He teased. “Besides, you can’t tell me that the expression Jack made wasn’t worth it?”

The Prefect tried to remain annoyed but the devious grin they felt against their neck and the playful not-quite tickling the other’s fingers were doing on their sides finally broke their resolve and a chuckle escaped their lips.

“It was kind of funny.” They admitted, turning their head slightly when Ruggie moved to hook his chin over their shoulder, his eyes glittering mischievously and smile just as wide as they had felt.

“Shishishi, see, how would you get to tease your friends properly without my help?”

They rolled their eyes again but the last of their annoyance had slipped away and they lightly elbowed the hyena until the other finally pulled back and moved to wash their hands again before returning to his work.

“I should tell Leona-senpai you said that about him.” They said bemused.

“Go ahead, I can’t wait to record his expression when you have to explain why.” He shot back easily.

“How in all the worlds did I end up with a friend like you?” they lamented dramatically.

“Just lucky, I guess!” he giggled.

The Prefect shook their head, but the smile didn’t fade from their lips.

“Yeah, I really am.” They whispered to themself, not realizing they had verbalized their thought, or the way Ruggie’s ear twitched back in their direction.

After finishing breakfast Ruggie set the two – and Jack who finally returned a half an hour later but who was eyeing them warily – plates piled with food before carrying up the tray to the prince’s room. 

“Did you finish the Astrology homework yet?” the Prefect asked, looking over as the three of them dug in.

“Some of it.” Jack admitted, ears flicking in thought as he chewed on a crispy strip of bacon. “The scenario about the merfolk looking for the type of love they are fated to have is confusing. I can’t figure out if we’re supposed to put more emphasis on the star signs or the moon signs since the moon control the tides but the star sign that it would be related to is Cancer.” He admitted with a small shrug.

The Prefect nodded. “Oh, yeah! We should ask Ruggie or Leona-senpai about that one.” They said, munching on the fruit happily. “I thought it was the moon sign but I wasn’t sure and you’re right that the star sign is a water one so that might be more important.”

The three - mostly just the Prefect and Jack since Grim was gorging himself – discussed their homework and various gossip and things regarding their friends as they waited for Ruggie to return.

“You know, if you talk with the Headmaster, he might be able to move you into Savanaclaw permanently.” Jack said during a lull moment. “That way you and Grim could have your own space.”

“Hm? Oh, it’s okay. It’s fun sharing a room with Ruggie.” They admitted with a grin. “It’s always nice to have someone close. It’s so empty at Ramshackle with just me and Grim and the ghosts that being here with everyone and sleeping with Ruggie is really comforting. You can join us too tonight, you know, since we don’t have school tomorrow. We could have a sleep over and play games or something.”

Jack tilted his head slightly before smiled. “I’ll check with Deuce to make sure we don’t have anything planned for the track team in the morning and if not, sure. That sounds fun.”

The Prefect flashed a brilliant smile and nodded eagerly.

They blinked, though, when their gaze traveled over the counter and saw a bowl of fruit that had been meant for Leona and had been forgotten.

“Oh, I’ll be right back.” They said, grabbing the bowl and heading towards the stairs. “If we don’t at least force fruit on the big kitty he’ll eat nothing but meat!”

They lopped up the steps and walkways through the familiar path to Leona’s rooms – only a little farther down than his unofficial vice-housewarden. They gave a quick knock on the door and poked their head in with a smile. Leona was sat up in bed with his tray of food in his lap while Ruggie was bustling around and gathering things to wash and tidy. He looked a bit ruffled, but it was probably just something Leona asked him to take care of last minute that was on his mind.

“Hi, oh good, you’re still awake, Leona-senpai!” they beamed, stepping in and heading over to the bed to hand over the bowl. “We forgot this, sorry.”

The lion didn’t even look up from his meal and just took the bowl and set it down wordlessly on his tray. Ruggie glanced over to them, and the Prefect thought they caught a frown on his face but they weren’t sure as the hyena slunk out of the room quickly with the clothes basket.

The Prefect’s smile faded at the cold welcome and tense atmosphere. They might not have considered themself a close friend to the third-year but he had opened up a bit more to them after his overblot. Nothing major, just talking more, tolerating their presence more, listening to what they said – unless he was trying to take a nap of course. For Leona it had been downright friendly.

He hadn’t been silent to them since before everything happened. It made the worry in their chest twist again.

“Leona-senpai? Is something wrong?” they asked carefully, watching the other’s face as he continued to eat without opening his eyes or acknowledging them.

It was only the slight flicker of his ear that even indicated that he heard them.

“None of your business, herbivore.” He said simply. “Now go away.”

The words weren’t even harsh, they were just dismissive and that actually hurt worse. Their brow furrowed and they hesitated for a moment before leaning on the bed slightly with one arm and reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“Leona-senpai, if there’s something wrong, I want to help. Is-“ but before they could finish or touch him, the prince’s hand snapped up to catch their wrist.

His sharp emerald eyes pinned them in place and they realized they were closer than they had meant to be, half way over his bed and level with his reclining posture. His gaze burned into them, making it suddenly hard to breathe and their mouth to turn dry.

“Did you not hear me? Are your weak human ears not working?” he asked evenly, not letting go of their wrist.

His hold wasn’t tight but it was firm and there was a tension in his shoulders that made their brow furrow in worry even more. They licked their lips nervously, trying to figure out how to convince the other to open up and not make the same mistake he made before, but found their breath leaving when Leona’s gaze fell to their lips, following the action intensely.

Was he…no, surely not. His eyes were just tracking movement, that was all. The thought didn’t stop the slight blush to warm their cheeks, though, and they swallowed thickly.

For a moment they even thought he was going to lean closer. To follow the path of their tongue with his own lips.

But his nose twitched slightly and his grip on their wrist clenched a little before he shoved them back, not harshly but firmly and returned to his meal.

“Get out, I’m not telling you again.” This time his voice was sharp and the strange energy in the air made the hair on the back of their neck stand on end.

Thoughts jumbled and overwhelmed, the Prefect clutched their wrist to their chest and gave a shaky breath.

“Sorry, Leona-senpai.” They managed, proud that their voice didn’t break at least before they turned and hurried out, closing the door behind them.

Their heart was beating wildly in their chest and a cyclone of emotions whirled inside them, making them stop near Ruggie’s door so they could lean against the wall and force their breathing to calm down.

What in the name of the Great Seven had that been?

“Hey, you okay?” they looked up to find Ruggie hurrying towards them, ears flat against his head and an expression of clear concern and tension on his face. “What’s wrong? Did Leona-san say something?” His tail swished stiffly back and forth in agitation.

They cleared their throat again and quickly forced a small smile.

“Aa, just being his usual grumpy self.” They said weakly.

Ruggie’s storm-cloud blue eyes were searching their face, trying to read what they weren’t saying and obviously not liking what he was seeing.

“Do I need to hit him?”

The question startled a laugh out of them, causing a small smirk to pull on his lips.

“You wouldn’t do that.” they teased. “He’d take away your wallet privileges.”

Ruggie hissed a laugh, shoulders relaxing somewhat at seeing them not so tense. He slung his arm around their shoulders again and began dragging them back towards the stairs to return and finish their breakfast.

“Yeah, you’re right. Wanna go buy some expensive treats from Sam instead? His treat.”

The ball of anxiety in their chest unfurled and they leaned into Ruggie’s side a bit more than they probably usually did, but if he noticed he didn’t say anything.

“Nah, I’ve got some laundry to help you with, remember?” they grinned.

They could worry about temperamental, mood-swingy lions later.

They couldn’t help rubbing their wrist lightly every now and then, though…the feeling of a larger, warmer hand lingering.

===============

Here's a chapter 2! I got inspired so I ended up writing it all up in one go. Hope you guys like it! Don't worry, I'm hoping to get some more background on what's going on between Leona and Ruggie in the next couple of chapters so we can make progress.

Let me know what you think! <3

[specialinterestshows]

Back to my regularly scheduled posting of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic.

Warnings for this section: Stoner themes

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 26 of ?): Kiss The Cook

Dazed by the early rays of morning light, you stretch and rub your eyes. You’d slept much better last night than you had the night before, and felt far more well-rested. Gently grazing the relaxed figure next to you, you pause before determining you haven’t woken her. Moving carefully out of the sheets and off the bed, you duck into the bathroom. You don’t leave until your face is washed, your knuckles are re-bandaged, and your hair is in an acceptable state.

Peeking into the bedroom, you notice Rhea hasn’t moved much, if at all. Grabbing clean clothes, you change by the couch to let her sleep in. Then you had an idea.

Quietly walking to the kitchen, you look through the cabinets before pulling out and dusting off an old serving tray. After setting napkins and utensils on the tray, you set to work making breakfast from what you have in the fridge. Bits of what Rhea had said during your conversation last night floated through your mind as you cooked on the stovetop.

“I want to see you a whole hell of a lot more than I get to”

“I’ll remind you how hot you are at every given opportunity”

“I’m going to do what I can to see you again, even if I have to fly you out to me.”

Smiling to yourself, you feel far more secure than you did the last time Rhea was about to leave. There was even a confident swagger in your hips as you put together breakfast.

Once the finished food was on plates, you placed the dishes on the tray and take a step back to look at the arrangement. After determining something seemed to be missing, you look through your cabinets until you find a small vase. Looking at the bouquet of flowers you’d greeted Rhea with a couple days ago, you pluck one from the arrangement before filling the vase with water and setting the purple flower inside. Placing the floral adornment on an open space in the tray, you smile, nodding to yourself before carrying the whole of it to the bedroom.

“‘Morning, Rhe,” you say softly, stopping at the doorframe. No response. You walk a bit further in before trying again.

“Rhe? You hungry?”

The beautiful figure wrapped in your bedsheets stirs, mumbling something unintelligible.

“I have something for you,” you almost sing with the cheery cadence of your voice.

Slowly stretching out, Rhea finally turns around and opens her eyes.

“Hm?” she takes a moment to look at you before processing the mouth-watering smells wafting from the tray. You set down the surprise breakfast on the bed next to her, watching her expression change.

“Oh, babe!” Rhea gasps, smile widening as she looks at the warm food, “You didn’t have to do this!”

You’re pulled into a kiss before you can respond. Resting your hands on her thighs for balance, you revel in the feeling of her caressing your face as her soft lips press against yours.

“You’re too good to me,” she says as soon as she pulls back, “Now help me eat all this.”

Sitting on the bed, you grab a utensil and start to dig in.

“Mmm, delicious,” Rhea says between bites. You had to agree, glad you had the foresight to make large helpings.

“Good way to wake up?” you ask her.

“One of the best,” she replied, suggestively wiggling her eyebrows. You laugh before taking another bite.

“Wake, bake, ‘n’ breakfast?” you offer after swallowing.

“Wish I could,” Rhea sighs, “I have a long day ahead of me once I get to the airport” - she checks her phone - “I don’t have to be there for another few hours, but I still need to wash up and get all my things together.”

“Let me know if I can help,” you say, nodding.

“Thanks, love,” she says before continuing to eat.

Shortly after finishing breakfast, Rhea stood up and started taking off her clothes. Coughing, you narrowly avoid choking on your food, not having expected the morning to change course so suddenly.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said, smiling at your reaction and the intensity of your stare as she stripped naked, “Wanna join me?”

[end part twenty-six of ?]

Part 27: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/725947345571840000/absolute-smokeshow-part-27-of-shower-head

-

Tag List (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine , @littlemiss-fanficlover , @elisewithak , @babybatlover , @girlofpink

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.73 - Welcome to the World - Part 1

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Baby time is getting closer! Simon is overjoyed, yet terrified for the first stage of Kiera's labor; Simon finds comfort in a simple, yet subtle word that leaves Eva's mouth.

The following morning, Kiera awoke with the beginning of intense contractions. Though they were over a few minutes apart, Simon began to grow more and more nervous as it slowly consumed him that he was soon to meet his son and daughter for the first time. "Sleep okay, love?" He asked as he entered their bedroom with a bowl of chicken noodle soup he had made for her. He smiled at her obvious glow, the way her hair framed her round face as she was sat upright in their bed, the white sheet concealing her legs and her robe still clung to her shoulders. I'm so fucking lucky. 

"Somewhat," She shook her head, smiling at him as he entered the room, setting the bowl on the side table before getting a pillow to sit on her lap so she could eat in bed. "Thank you, babe." 

"Are you comfortable?" 

She nodded, leaning her head against his lips as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He frowned as she tried to eat, not able to eat the entire bowl even though it was probably the best chicken soup she had ever had. Sorry, mom, but Simon makes really good soup.

Contractions were now less than five minutes apart and Kiera began to grow nervous. "Babe, I think we need to start getting ready." 

"Is-Is it happening?" He asked, his tone of nervousness. 

"I think so," She sighed, pressing her hand against the side of her belly. "Will you help me take a shower?" 

"Of course. How far apart are your contractions?" 

"About four minutes, but they're not bad contractions and that worries me. They feel like period cramps. What if it's like second stage or something? Hell, I don't know." 

"It's alright, love," He assured her, picking up her phone to look at the app she had been keeping track of her contractions on, seeing that they were averaging at least every three minutes and thirty-eight seconds. "May just be an early warning to get to a hospital before they get worse." 

"I hope so. They're just not hunched over and taking me to my knees bad." 

His adrenaline was pumping at this point, noticing how his hands were subtly shaking as he took the bowl from her, rushing it into the kitchen and putting the leftover soup into a Tupperware bowl and setting it in the fridge in what he felt was record time before he made his way back to the bedroom, offering his hand for her to grab as he assisted her out of the bed, Kimber sitting at Kiera's feet, nearly tripping on her on her way to the bathroom. "God, my ankles are huge!" 

"You'll miss them," He poked. "Those were your all-access pass to unlimited foot rubs." 

"Oh, so that's why you always offered foot rubs even before I was pregnant?" 

"You know you'll always get them without asking," He shrugged, reaching towards the tub to turn on the shower head before helping her untie her robe. "I think this is going to happen today," He smiled with excitement. "You're glowing more than you have before." 

"I'm so nervous." 

"Me too, love, but you've got this. Already mum of the year." He assured her, letting her grasp his hand as she stepped over the side of the bathtub, letting the warm water cage her shoulders as she refrained from washing her hair to save time, Simon keeping a close eye on her as she began to suffer through another contraction, leaning against the shower wall and shifting her body to where the water was running against the small of her back - a desperate attempt to relieve any type of discomfort. 

"Can you mark another contraction on my phone?" She panted, Simon doing as requested and moving to the countertop where her phone sat, marking another contraction on her app, frowning at having to see her in discomfort with nothing he could do to stop it, only able to provide a soft hand and encouraging words to get her through it. This is going to kill me watching her go through so much pain.

That contraction lasted for more than a minute, Simon taking the loofa from her hand and scrubbing the soap along her back, careful with his gestures along her scars, afraid he would hurt her if he gave too much pressure. "I really think this is going to happen today." He grinned.

"You're so confident, babe." 

"I can tell by just looking at your bump that they've dropped." 

"I can definitely feel it. My hips are aching." 

Simon was her personal pit crew - helping her dry off with a second towel and rushing to grab the set of clothes she had set out days prior: a simple t-shirt, sweatpants, and a pair of her favorite Hey Dudes that she had to buy a size bigger to accommodate her swollen feet. As much as she didn't like how she looked in the "pajamas" she had picked out, Simon thought she was the cutest thing to walk in front of him. 

He walked closely behind her as they walked towards the front door of the house, Simon turning off the lights as he passed by before he took Kimber into his grasp, remembering that Eva was eager to keep an eye on the puppy for when the time came and Teeter offering to check on the cat every few hours as well as help take care of the puppy. "Hello?" Kiera's mother said from the other side of the phone, Kiera holding an excited grin on her face to tell her the news. 

"Can you come outside and get Kimber? We're on our way to the hospital-"

Eva shrieked in excitement, making both Kiera and Simon laugh, "R-Right now?! Oh my goodness! Yes I'm on my way!" 

"We're parked right outside the house-"

"I see you, sweetheart!" She laughed, ending the phone call as she sat her phone on the outside table, rushing down the stairs to meet Simon at the truck, Kimber in his arms as he stepped outside to meet Eva. She gave Simon a comforting hug, able to tell that he was anxious as he stood at the front of the truck, escorting her to the passenger side to see Kiera for the last stage of her pregnancy. He opened the passenger side door, grinning at Kiera as she and her mother shared an embrace as well as Kimber desperately trying to lick Kiera's cheek as she was still in Eva's arms. "You look so beautiful, honey," Eva whimpered, her cheek pressed against Kiera's as her free arm clutched around her shoulders. "Promise you'll call me when you need me?" 

"I will, momma," Kiera replied, fighting tears of her own. "I'll call you after I get settled at the hospital." 

"Having bad contractions?" 

"No, just uncomfortable right now, but they're less than five minutes apart." 

"You're definitely close!" She smiled, kissing Kiera's forehead. "I'll see you soon. I love you, honey." 

"I love you too, momma." 

She placed another kiss to Kiera's temple before turning to Simon, embracing him and frowning at how she felt him nearly trembling against her. "It'll be alright, honey," She assured him, rubbing her palm against the skin of his shoulder. "I love you. You'll be just fine. I think you're only shaking because you're ready to be a dad." 

"I think so too, but I'm not going to lie: I'm scared," He frowned, returning the hug. "I'm even afraid to drive her because I'm worried about someone running a red light." 

"It's okay to be scared, Simon, but it'll all be okay. Keep me updated when you can."

"I will," He nodded. "I love you too." 

*

Once at the hospital, Simon offered his arm to her to cling to as she leant against him as they walked across the parking lot to the hospital entrance, Kiera occasionally having to stop to catch her breath as her ankles felt as if they were on fire, aching with every step. He helped her sit in the nearby chair of the lobby before informing the receptionist as to why they were there. Within ten minutes, a nurse met Kiera in the lobby with a wheelchair, Simon walking behind the nurse with only one bag he had managed to get after he had parked the truck.

It was the bag that had all of her clothes and toiletries in it, knowing she'd either want a snack or a shower later in the day. 

Once she was settled in the room as well as changed into a hospital gown, Simon's hand couldn't keep away from rubbing her belly. "Looks like a beach ball under there, love." 

"Definitely feels like a rock," She giggled, sighing. "I feel like shit - like I've been wanting to throw up." 

"Well, you look really beautiful right now." 

"Thank you," She blushed, reaching towards him as he took a seat beside her. "Ever since we got here, this is so surreal. I thought I was ready, but I'm terrified." 

He nodded, grasping her hand and placing a delicate kiss to her knuckles, "Me too, love. I don't think I can handle seeing you in pain." 

She giggled, "You do know that when these contractions get worse, I'll probably blame you at some point, but don't take it to heart because I'm going to say shit I don't mean-" 

"Your mum warned me in advance," He chuckled, placing another kiss to her knuckles. "She told me you might say worse things than that, actually. Then it turned to a storytime where she cursed your father out when having your brother. Something about him being nearly nine pounds when he came out." 

"He also had a cone head," She giggled. "She told me the same story too. Except when she was cussing out my dad, he was laughing because she rarely cusses and he said it was cute." 

"Your mum is one of the most precious people I've ever met. It would definitely catch me off guard if I heard her curse." 

"It's pretty funny when she does."

About ten minutes later, two nurses arrived in the room to prep Kiera with the heart monitors for the babies that wrapped around her belly as well as a heart monitor for herself complimented by an IV in the crease of her elbow. 

As the hours continued, Kiera began to grow more and more restless with her contractions beginning to get more intense. It broke Simon's heart to see her like this, trying his best to empathize with her, but he knew he couldn't compare any of his pain to hers. 

By hour six, Simon kept his sharp gaze on her as she was finally comfortable enough to sleep, sitting back in his chair next to her bed to find the time to call Soap to inform him that not only was it time for Kiera to have the babies, but that he needed to check on the cat. "Hope you know you're interrupting Big Chief, mate-"

"Shut up, Soap, fuckin' hell," He grumbled, irritated that Soap had began laughing on the other line, knowing he struck Simon's nerve. Per usual. "Can you or Teeter check on Church?"

"Why aren't you home?" 

"Maybe because Kiera is in labor and we're at the hospital?" He scoffed sarcastically.

"Oh, shite!" He shouted, the phone being muffled by the sound of Soap moving with his phone in his grasp. "Teeter! Kiera's having a baby!" 

"Bout damn time!" She shouted from across the room. "Are they here yet? What's going on?!" 

"We've been here for about seven hours now. No babies yet," He sighed, frowning with anticipation. "The nurse told me she's going to come back and give her some Pitocin to help induce labor. Hopefully soon." 

"That's good news, L.T. We'll go and check on the cat. Where's the dog?" 

"Her mum is puppy-sitting. She's leaving her with her father and is on her way." 

"Why didn't you tell me when all of this was happening?" Soap poked. 

"It was need-to-know." 

"What if I needed to know?" 

"You'll know when they're here, how about that?" 

"So... are you going to give me the official title of being an uncle?" 

"Keep pushing your luck, Sergeant." Simon warned.

"I'm just poking," He chuckled. "Looks like you've finally got a win, L.T." 

"I always win." 

"Yeah, in the battlefield. You winning in life is definitely new." 

"Ain't that the truth," He scoffed, turning his attention to another moan of discomfort as Kiera had woken up with another contraction, struggling to move onto her side in a desperate attempt to ease the pain. "Got to go. Call you later." 

Giving no time for Soap to respond, he hung up the phone, setting it on the nearby table to tend to her. The sound of the babies' heartbeats from the monitor had Simon's anxiousness at top-tier, glancing over every chance he got to see them again, thankful that they were still there. "I-I'm not ready, Simon." She panted, her eyes squeezed shut. 

"I don't think you have much of a choice right now, love," He sighed. "You've got this. You're more ready than you think." 

Another two hours went by and Kiera was still showing no signs in active labor. With contractions still roughly three minutes apart, a group of nurses piled in to administer Pitocin as well as break one of Kiera's waters manually to further along the process. 

As much as Kiera didn't like it, she obliged to not only letting them break her water, but for Simon to peer his curious eyes over the leg he was holding to watch them do it. He rubbed gentle circles on her bare knee for comfort as well as reassurance as he got to watch her water break, which was truly an amazing experience for him. You continue to amaze me every day, love. 

Kiera's mom watched from across the room, wanting to give Kiera space as well as standing back to let Simon have his moment with her - to be there for her like he vowed to be, even though he felt Eva had every right as much as him to be there. After all, she was her mother. She deserved to be there for her daughter in such a beautiful moment. 

"How're you feeling, sweetheart?" Eva smiled, approaching her bedside after the nurses had left to let the Pitocin kick in as well as administering a catheter. She fought tears as she leant over the bed to kiss Kiera's temple, the smell of her sweet and loving scent filling Kiera's nostrils. 

"Better, for now," She sighed. "I feel lighter after they did that." 

"I'd say so. There was a lot of fluid that came out." Simon commented. 

"I brought you some food," She smiled, reaching into her purse - tote - to reveal a bag of Chic-fil-A she had snuck in. Complementary with a bottle of Coke and Dr. Pepper from the vending machine on her way to Kiera's room. "Two chicken sandwiches and a large fry." She giggled. 

"I-I can't eat anything, mom." Kiera frowned. 

"Who said?" 

"The nurses?" 

"Well, I didn't hear it myself. A little bird told me you hadn't eaten since this morning and didn't eat all of it if I heard him right. I know those pretty eyes of yours are eyeballing this bag." She giggled, getting a chicken sandwich out for her and setting it on the tray next to her bed before handing the sandwich she had gotten for Simon to him.

"Might as well say it was Simon who told on me." Kiera chuckled, laying her head back as she felt another contraction on the horizon. 

"I didn't want to put him on the spot." Eva poked, handing Simon a bottle of Coke as she noted it to be a soda he had enjoyed, taking the seat on the opposite side of Kiera's bed to keep an eye on her daughter. 

"Know me so well." Simon chuckled, opening the sandwich.

"You're not too hard to figure out, honey. Besides, Kiera told me so much about you while you were gone and by the time you came home, I already knew you like one of my own." 

Home. 

A subtle word to come from Eva's mouth, yet made him feel whole.

[greydoesthearts]

Just a Dream

Word count: 431

Cold sweat ran down his back as he sat, heaving breaths ripping from burning lungs. The blankets were drenched as if an ocean wave lapped over him in his sleep, and he trembled in the freezing chill it left behind.

The nightmare fled his brain.

Steadying himself, he stood, using the walls for support as he left the room and went down the hall. Of course, even in the early hours of the morning, someone was bound to be awake and the man he happened to find was one Marvin.

He looked up as Chase staggered his way in, setting his cup of decaffeinated tea to the side. "Honey, what's wrong?" Chase shrugged and sniffled, opening the fridge to grab some juice.

"Jus' a nightmare, is all," he mumbled.

"Just a nightmare? Are you sure?" His brow was creased in worry and he stood to help Chase's shaking hands as he almost dropped the glass. "I can help if you need me to."

Chase shrugged again. "I dunno. Didn't want to bother anyone..."

"You're never a bother, Chase, hm? Here, I'll do what I do best. A little sprinkle of magic." He waved his hand over the glass of freshly poured juice in his hand before Chase could object, the shiny material turning a sparkling pink for a second and then settling. "Try that."

Chase looked up into Marvin's eyes and took the juice. There was something off about this but he couldn't put his finger on it. Instead of dwelling, though, he sipped at the drink and savoured the taste. It was slightly sweeter than he remembered, but it was good. He felt a calm wash over him.

"Attaboy. I'll take you back to bed, okay?"

Marvin took hold of Chase's arm and teleported them back upstairs. He quickly dried the wet blankets with another wave of magic, then tucked Chase in when he was done with his juice.

The attention to detail was well-appreciated in Chase's unconscious mind. He sighed, leaning into the hug when Marvin sat and offered it, tears wetting his shirt collar.

"I know, Chase, I know. I'll be home before you know it." Chase only cried harder, wrapping his arms around Marvin's slowly disappearing body. "Shh, shh... just a few more days."

When Chase woke up, his sheets and blanket were dry and warm, tucked in at the sides, and there was a glass of cold water on his bedside table. He wiped his face of excess tears and drank the water.

He silently thanked Marvin and got up to get ready for the day.

[australiablog]

20/7

This antibiotics is making me sleep really good, I wasn’t expecting this. Today was my normal time of 8ish, and when I went to the toilet Andrew’s mum was up and asked if I wanted a coffee. So I sat with her until Andrew woke up. They are from near Glasgow in Scotland and moved here 20 years ago. She’s really easy to talk too and I enjoy listening to the accent even if I sometimes have to ask them to repeat it again. After I took a shower we were waiting for the laundry his mum had on so I could properly wash my jeans. The cycles at hostels are always 30 min and I don’t even know what it is but I’ve spilled something on my legs (coffee I assume) so my jeans need a proper wash. His mum offered to put it in when we left, she was very intrigued with my laundry detergent sheets. Today we are going to Phillip island, it’s about an hour and a half so in Aussie terms not too far away. The weather is switching between rain and sun and there was a really beautiful rainbow! We stopped around noon to have something to eat, they had the same burger place as yesterday but I can’t do burgers two days in a row as breakfast. So I got some donuts from the shop instead. After a bit we arrived at the chocolate factory, it’s kind of an interactive museum for kids. I really enjoyed it though, the one we have in Antwerp is not catered to kids and there was definitely a difference. The chocolate is not that good but I’m a chocolate snob so if I can’t have good ones I rather have none at all. Only 10 minutes from this there is a sort of arcade. They have all sort of activities, illusions, mini golf and a maze. It was raining quite heavily when we arrived so we opted out for the golf but did add the outsize maze. It was really fun, the puzzles were sometimes quite hard. I’m not good at logic ones so I left those for that they were. They also had a sort of weightless drop that turned into a slide, you got overalls and had to climb the stairs to 7,2m. Andrew went first and the girl had said beforehand that once you go down the ledge and are hanging by your hands the only way out is to let yourself fall. I think Andrew was trying to be brave by going first but he had a very difficult time letting go. He did in the end but if he could have bailed he would have done so. When it was my turn I didn’t hesitate and it was really fun, but then again I love daring things. They had a spooky room and I was a little apprehensive about it but it was kids scary not haunted house scary so I survived. They had a massive outdoor maze that had 4 flags you could find in it. We walked the maze for over an hour not finding the green flag, the others we found but the green was elusive. I had seen on google maps that there was a viewpoint on the way back so we stopped to have a look. It was gorgeous but extremely windy. My hair was in a claw clip but not for long, by the time we got back to the car my hair looked like I had walked in a tornado. The ocean was really wild and it was so beautiful with the sun reflecting on the beach. I asked Andrew to take a few photos because it was stunning. We had a different way back and we passed multiple street signs that had warnings for kangaroos and koalas, of course I was too slow to try and take a picture of them. When we got back to traralgon we stopped at the liquor shop to get a drink, I got myself a cider. Nothing too crazy! We were back relatively early, and his mum had made tacos. So we had them before we went and watched a few episodes of Miss Fisher. Andrew is really liking it and I never say no to a Miss Fisher rewatch!!

[aquarelliwrites]

What Kind Of Woman Do You Take Me For?

SHIP: Charles Leclerc x Reader

SUMMARY: After a dinner date at your apartment, Charles is forced to sleep over as to not get caught up in a snowstorm.

CONTENT: Mention of alcohol, domestic fluff, you/yours pronouns with fem!reader, no use of Y/N.

1.1k

"Well, this was lovely."

Charles used his napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth. You leaned back in your chair, your elbow coming to rest on the backrest of the one next to you. A vague silence washed over the dining room of your apartment, both of you observing the snowfall outside.

The view out of the dining and living rooms of your apartment was spectacular, and half the reason you were paying such a ridiculous price for it - the sprawling cityscape and background of rolling Swiss Alps breathtaking on evenings like this.

Was it really even evening anymore? You had sat down for dinner four hours ago - really, the date had actually started in the early afternoon. He had come in bearing gifts, with the first snowflakes adorning his coat, hair, and eyelashes. Then, he spent the better part of a few hours helping with dinner.

If you could count his sitting pretty on the barstool, drinking wine, and distracting you with gossip the entire time helping. You had a good reason to keep him away from the stove, however - the man was many things, but a culinary expert he was not.

"Is there anything we forgot to talk about?" You joked, tearing your gaze away from the panoramic view to the, arguably, far better one across the table.

He, to his credit, did take a moment to consider. You liked the way he looked when he was deep in thought. "I... don't believe so. How long has it- oh, wow. Midnight already?" The shock on his face, like all of his other emotions, was visible as soon as he caught sight of the clock hanging in the living room behind you.

"Nearing it." The snow outside was bad now - Switzerland was used to snow, sure, but was Charles? At night? In that sports car you saw him drive here? "You should stay over."

"Yeah?" His smile was teasing while he picked at a few crumbs on the tablecloth. "Are you propositioning me? Is that what this is?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Don't be ridiculous-"

"I came all this way-"

"Charles-"

"-all for an elaborate booty call? Really? Thought you were better than that, amour." Combined, the twinkle in his eyes and the smirk tugging upwards at the corners of his lips made you want to jump across the table and do unholy things to him. Not that you’d readily admit it.

You gestured to your matching empty glasses and plates. "Well, technically, I’ve been wining and dining you. Not a booty call. Come on, what kind of woman do you take me for, Leclerc?"

He shrugged, now picking at the tablecloth itself.

Clearing your throat was more uncomfortable than you’d thought. "The guest room situation isn't- um. I've got my office in there."

"Right, yes."

"...And I have a queen bed." That you didn't know if you wanted to share with him. This was- what was this? The third date? He had said he wanted to take it slow, get to know you. This wasn't exactly planned.

"Oh."

Another silence fell over the room. You felt like you were drowning in it.

"You can take the bed. I just changed the sheets this morning," you offered.

"No, no, I couldn't take that from you."

"I insist."

"No-"

"You're a houseguest. Fae rules."

"What? Fae rules?" He sputtered in surprise.

"Yes." You were smiling smugly, and he pointed it out.

"It's not a problem, chat." The tips of his ears went a little red at you calling him 'cat', but you continued. "The sofa’s comfy. I made sure when I was buying it just in case my, how did you put it, ‘booty call’ could be comfortable."

An extended quiet passed by before he nodded. "Alright."

"Alright."

You cleaned up together - he washed dishes, you dried them; he offered a piece of gossip about the people in his life, you returned one about an office affair you nearly got caught up in; he gasped in disbelief, you nodded solemnly; he caged you against the counter when you were done, you reciprocated his kiss sweetly, slowly.

He tasted of alcohol and dessert, mostly, then of mint after you brushed your teeth together and stole a final kiss. And your pillow.

"Bonne nuit." You whispered against his lips.

"Bonne nuit, amour."

To your credit, you managed to get incredibly cozy on the couch - spare duvet, blankets, pillows galore. You allowed yourself the luxury of imagining him lying in your bed, daydreaming about the way you’d look there with him. You then spent a good quarter of an hour debating with yourself whether joining him there would be uncomfortable for both of you or not.

Oh, god. Had he seen your stuffed animals? The thought nagged at you as you drifted off.

A click of a door roused you from sleep. You couldn’t really tell what time it was in the dark, but the room being so dark and the snow still falling heavily suggested it hasn't been more than… what? Two hours?

"Amour?" He whispered from the doorway. You hummed, acknowledging his presence, but not exactly comprehending it yet.

"Wha's up?" The only word your half-asleep mind could really think of to describe him then is cute - hair a little messy, shirt a little askew, sweatpant cuffs riding up a little on his legs.

He didn't answer, instead stealing one of the top-most blankets covering you. Before you could protest, he moved - sort of clumsily, which prompted a snickering laugh from you - to lay down on top of you. After he got comfy, you were pressed into the couch - his legs tangling with yours, his arms enclosing around your waist under your shirt, his head resting on your chest.

A more conscious you would probably hesitate a little, and a more conscious he probably wouldn't  have done what he did. Alas, tired people do stupid things, and you embraced him back quickly. You helped him cover himself in the stolen blanket, and your hands carded through his hair a little while neither of you were asleep yet.

"Thank you." You heard him whisper, and you made a little noise of agreement. 

"Didn't know if you'd want to sleep together."

"Hah, I thought you didn't want it, amour?"

"With you? Don't be ridiculous. If I had more confidence, I'd be throwing myself all over the opportunity." Your finger twirled a longer strand of hair, and you got to enjoy the way his fingers were mind-numbingly warm drawing patterns on your waist.

This was miles better than any sleep you could have gotten on your own.

NOTE: these fics keep getting shorter and shorter but i'm not lying when I say everything that could have possibly gone wrong while writing this went wrong. I'm truly shocked and appalled.

Rivals to lovers Max fic is hopefully still on the way - alas i got too ambitious with it and now it's looking like it's going to be the longest thing i've ever written. not yet sure if i should be excited or worried?

Liked this? Check out my masterlist!

[over-particular]

productive days, a very personal morning checklist

ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀ → It takes an average of 66 days to create or change a habit. Don’t give up now!

☐ Wake up at a predetermined time. Set your alarm clock early if you're the type of person who might feel the need to linger in bed for a while before getting up. If possible, get an alarm clock that is not your phone.

☐ Open the curtains and, if possible, air the room for a while, without making the bed yet. According to a study published in 2006 in the journal Experimental and Applied Acarology, making your bed actually creates a comfortable refuge for mites. Researchers at Kingston University's Centre for Immunology in England concluded that putting back the sheets or comforter as soon as you wake up creates an ideal environment for mites to grow. Air the room for a while.

☐ Stay hydrated. Drink water.

☐ If possible, avoid screen time until the end of the list. My mornings allow me to escape social media, messages and demands from work, friends and family. It's a privileged moment in which I avoid any unnecessary anxiety or negative thoughts.

☐ Exercise your mind, your faith, your creativity for a few minutes. For some, it is a combination of meditation and affirmations. As for me, I pray for a moment or two. I also sometimes write a few lines in my journal, although I much prefer to reserve this moment for my evenings. This is the time to get inspired: listen to your favorite podcast, read a little. (Don't start reading new books until you've finished the current one, even if the book is pretty boring.)

☐ Prepare your bag for the day. This is the time to pack your lunch box, your notebooks, your computer for work and all the necessary chargers... I never do it the night before.

☐ Be physically active for at least 30 minutes. If possible, an hour or two. Run, go for a quick walk, stretch, do yoga, use the equipment in your apartment or go to the gym. 

☐ Wash yourself. Everyone has a different approach to it, depending on their resources and organization. Wash up or take a shower or a bath, brush your teeth and floss and if you have one, do your skin care routine.

☐ Get ready for the day. Get dressed and comb your hair even if you don't plan on going out for the day. As someone who has suffered from mental health issues that have kept me in bed for days, getting ready in the morning subconsciously pushes me to offer myself a picture of me ready to face the day. Often, it also encourages me to go out... 

☐ Have a cup of coffee, a cup of tea, a glass of warm water. Try to eat before ingesting any form of caffeine. If possible, eat a full breakfast or a fruit, but never go out on an empty stomach. Again, try to stay hydrated and drink water.

☐ Finish by making your bed. While the study referenced above does not advocate doing this, I find that the discipline and rigor involved in recreating a physically "neutral" environment allows my mind to unburden itself. For the sake of productivity, I suppose. For the same reasons, if possible, never leave your stuff lying around in your room (like letting it pile up on a chair or desk).

☐ Start your day, outside the walls of your precious home. 

I have a sort of unhealthy obsession with checklists and their elaboration. They help me develop my sense of order and allow me to envision a kind of stability in their recurrence. I kind of get to appreciate my sense of discipline. I would also like to add that this list is intended to be personal. I made it for myself in the hope that sharing it might inspire others. I am therefore fully aware that it cannot necessarily be applied to a profile different from mine. Feel free to rewrite it, make it your own!

[dotster001]

Of Lavender and Apples

Summary: An unexpected person helps you in your depressive episode.

Cw:this is based some of my actual depression symptoms, so if that may be a problem for you, please don't read this.

A/N-fun fact, this was titled Vil comes for my depressed ass in my drafts 😂

You were in bad shape. You were buried in a blanket cocoon that was no longer helping. You hadn't been to class in two weeks, claiming you were sick. Early on, you had left your bed for food and nothing else. Now you didn't even leave for food. Grim was concerned, but you had convinced him you didn't need a doctor. Not that they could fix this.

You hadn't eaten, your sleep was erratic, you hadn't showered or brushed your hair in who knows how long. You spent your days staring at the ceiling, and pointedly ignoring the notifications you were getting from your friends.

This had happened in your world before. Your body just shutting down and blocking things out. And you were impressed that you had made it this far without it happening here. Maybe being busy had saved you, or maybe the shock had finally worn off. Whatever had held this back for so long, however, was gone.

You heard your phone buzzing. It did that a lot these days. You'd check it when the fog cleared. It buzzed again. You ignored it. You heard insistent pounding on your door. You'd just say you were asleep if they asked you later.

Then you heard a crash. Followed by stopping up the stairs. Followed by a pounding on your bedroom door. Followed by,

"Potatoes, if you know what's good for you, you will let me in."

Uh oh.

"It's open." You croaked.

Vil Schoenheit opened the door and took you in. You worried he was going to say something mean or snarky, but instead,

"Epel is worried about you, and hasn't been focusing on his lessons." He gave you a soft once over, a small nod, and then left the room. He returned a moment later, jacket off, and hair pulled into a pony tail.

"I have drawn you a bath. Can you bathe yourself, or do you want help."

You weren't quite processing his words. But he waited patiently for you to get it.

"Um, I can do it myself."

He nodded, and escorted you to the bathroom. The bath looked warm and inviting, and was filled with lavender scented bubbles. Vil pointed to a silk purple robe sitting by the tub.

"Put that on once your finished, and I will bring you a new set of pajamas."

You found yourself staring at the bath. He gave you a reassuring shoulder squeeze.

"If you need me, I will be sitting right outside."

He left and you started to undress. You got in the bath. Then you realized you had a problem. You didn't have the energy to do anything more than that.

"Vil?" You croaked. He peered in. "Can…can you help me?"

"Let's make a deal. I'll wash your hair, if you do the rest. Sound fair?" You nodded, and he pooredsome shampoo in his hand. He messaged it into your scalp, gently, rythmicly, then poured water on your hair until all the soup was gone. He went so far as to put the body wash on the washcloth for you.

"I believe in you potatoe. Don't let me down." He left again as you washed your body.

When you finished, you put on the robe, feeling clean for the first time in two weeks. You knocked on the door, and Vil opened it and handed you a clean set of pajamas.

Once you were dressed, he led you to the dining table where a bowl of oatmeal with apple slices awaited you.

"Eat." He said simply.

You obeyed. As you ate, he wordlessly began brushing through your hair. You finished eating long before he got through all the knots.

Once he did, he cleared your place and offered you his arm. He escorted you back to your room, where you noticed you had clean sheets, and a new lavender candle, filling the room with a fresh feel.

He escorted you to the bed and gently laid you down. He pulled up the blankets and tucked you in.

Up to this point, the two of you had only had wordless exchanges, but now he broke your silence.

"You know, we do care deeply about you here. With how much you have done for us, it is okay for you to lean on us when you need it. You don't have to bear your burdens alone."

You felt yourself tear up at that. You couldn't speak but you felt yourself nodding.

"As long as you understand. Now rest."

He stood up to leave, but you grabbed his hand. "Can you stay for a bit?"

He gave you a soft smile. "Of course." He pulled up a chair and sat next to you, and started humming a tune you felt familiar with. It wasn't long until you drifted off into the first peaceful sleep you'd had in two weeks.

[babbygirlblues]

Bad days

Summary: you had a bad day, Natasha tries her best to help

Warnings: very small mention of a period/cramps, nothing else!

Notes: Ugh very simple fluff. 1.1K

{Thank you so SO much to everyone who commented, liked or reblogged my last post. I was literally getting flustered every time you did.

This one is shorter and not quite what I was going for. I hope its somewhat enjoyable on a bad day!}

Afternoon in the training room is usually quiet. You finished early today and headed for the gym for a walk to clear your head. Since you woke up this morning it felt like everything was destined to go wrong.

First, you woke up late and worst of all, in a puddle of blood. You skipped breakfast and cleaned up so you could wash your sheets and make it on time. After that, the whole day continued to feel like a battle. 

You’re walking slowly on the treadmill, letting your thoughts take over and honestly, just sulking about the day when Natasha walks in with headphones on. She too is absorbed in her own thoughts and the early 2000s pop music blasting in her ears. But, like a constant radar she has for your presence, she notices immediately that you’re there. She walks closer until you are in ear-shot. 

“Trying to set the world's slowest pace there, Y/L/N?”

She doesn’t get her anticipated witty response. Instead you force a weak smile at her and keep walking. “Something like that.” you mumble in response. 

You can tell she’s confused because she hesitates to move closer, and reaches out to lean on the bars of the treadmill. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You reply and smile more genuinely at her, but despite your efforts you think it still comes off looking sad. 

“Wanna spar for a bit?” Natasha offers, and gestures to the mats further inside.

You sigh softly and shake your head, “No, thank you.”

Natasha takes a moment then to look at you. She can see the soft darkness under your eyes and a heaviness in your shoulders that isn't usually there. Something in her chest calls to you, and pleads with her to make that heaviness go away. But Natasha doesn’t want to push you and is unsure how to comfort your unusually sad demeanour. Instead she decides to give you space.

“Okay. Come join me if you feel like it.”

“Thanks Nat. But I actually think I’m going to head off now.” You say and pack up the few things you have with you.

Natasha watches you leave, a frown painting her face. She flies through her workout, determined to see you again before the night is over.

***

When Natasha joins the others for dinner, her eyes search for you at the table and then in the kitchen but it's only Wanda standing there. 

“Wanda, have you seen Y/N?”

“No, not since this morning.” Wanda replies. 

Natasha eats with everyone, silent and distracted, her eyes shift toward the door intervally. When dinner is over she fixes a plate with the leftovers and announces that she’s going to your room.

You’re lying on the couch in your room when Natasha knocks and you pause the TV to call out to her. 

“Who is it?” You call out, hardly bothering to sit up. 

“It’s me.” Natasha replies through the crack in the door she’s opened. “...Natasha” 

“Come in.”

Natasha walks over to your reclined spot on the couch and she holds out her plate of food like an offering. 

“I didn’t see you eating at dinner. Have you had something already?”

“Hmm no, not hungry.” you tell her. “Thank you though, that’s incredibly thoughtful.” 

Natasha puts the plate down and sits next to you. There’s a silent pause for a moment and Natasha opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by your stomach rumbling, probably at the smell of the food. 

“Not hungry, you say?”

“Ok, more like, I didn’t feel like eating.” You say. “Or dealing with any more comments from anyone downstairs.”

“Oh. Do you want to be alone? I can leave.” Natasha quickly stands up and you grab her hand to stop her moving further away from you. 

You hate the look on her face. Her eyes are downcast towards the floor and her bottom lip is worriedly being torn up between her teeth. She’s only just gotten comfortable initiating contact with you of her own volition. 

“No! No, no. Please don’t go. Not you. It’s never you.” you assure her desperately. 

She stands there and you worry she’s going to retreat like she used to. 

“Could you lie with me for a bit?” you ask her. “If you’re not busy.”

Natasha turns to face you again, green eyes darting to yours and away again. “I’m not busy.” she finally says.

You lie back onto the cushions facing her. 

“Lie on top of me?”

Natasha looks at you uncertainly.

You make begging hands in front of her. “Please, Tasha” 

“I’ll crush you.” 

You scoff, “Please, you're tiny.”

“Hey!” she protests, and mockingly turns to leave.

You sit up to stop her,  “NO! I’m sorry. You’re very much not tiny, but you also won’t crush me.” you beg. “I just want to feel you. It makes me feel safe.”

“Okay.” She whispers. “Lie down” She says with a gentle palm on your chest that pushes you backwards. 

She’s still hesitant as she swings her leg over you so that she can sit straddling your thighs. Then she slowly lowers herself down on top of you, her hands supporting her weight on either side of your head. 

Her hair tickles the side of your face as her head lowers completely to rest between your shoulder and neck. It takes her a moment to relax into you, but her weight slowly presses you into the soft couch, the thick cushions swallowing you both whole. You can feel her everywhere, the pressure of her heavy chest pressing into yours and deep into your lungs. Your stomachs align perfectly, hers presses flush into yours beneath her. And her legs intertwine and tangle with your legs that hang off the end slightly. 

Her body rocks up and down with your breathing that eventually evens out and slows down. This is the peace you’ve been waiting for all day. 

Natasha reaches up with her free hand and sinks her fingers into your hair, her thumb rubbing soothing circles at your temple. 

“Do you want to talk about whatever happened today?” she asks, her voice in a quiet whisper.

You sigh, “It was nothing, really.” you assure her. “Just a few minor things, Fury, cramps, Tony being himself.”

She chuckles and her warm breath blows into your sensitive neck, “Ah Tony, of course.”

“And Steve went a little hard at training. I just wasn’t feeling up to it, and couldn’t keep up today.”

“He hurt you? I’ll fucking kill him.” She mutters. 

You can’t help the quiet giggle that escapes from your chest and it vibrates into Natasha. You close your eyes and relish in the warmth of her body, then in the warmer sensation that fills your chest at her fierce devotion you long to see more of.