#but she takes his shoes off and rolls him onto his side so he can't suffocate himself at least

[softquietsteadylove]

I have an idea for the lawyer au. Inspiration from Boston legal season 8 episode 9.

A girl, make her young like sprite, comes to Gil one day and asks if he is a lawyer and if he can help her. Gil thinking she is being a kid jokingly asks how much money she has and when she answers 10 bucks her father comes and wants to take her with her. But she holds onto Gil and says please help me, if I go back to Poland they’ll force me to marry a man in this country. in this moment he realizes it’s a serious matter and protects the girl. At the end of this case it’s a very depressing situation for him. Thena is there to gently lift him up

Im sure you’ll manage to do something with it

"Gil."

Gil didn't even pick his head up. He was all but sleeping in his mug of guinness. "Gil's not here."

Thena didn't let him get away with it. She did pat his shoulder with some sense of pity for him. "Come on, Gil. It's well past midnight and you have another court date tomorrow."

He groaned at even the mention of going into court again. He didn't know if he had it in him after his day today. "I'm not going back there."

Thena shuffled her purse on her shoulder and perched herself on the stool next to his. "You don't mean that."

"I do," he huffed, pushing the goblet away with distaste. All he could smell was the thick, sweet stench of it. "And I should have punched that judge in the face."

"It wouldn't have changed the ruling," she pointed out in a very Thena way. "Unless you want to be barred from practising law for a year, if not the rest of your life."

He shrugged. He wasn't sure how he felt about the law after today. He had always thought he was on the side of the good guys, as cliche as it sounded. Sure, the law was far from perfect, but he really thought he was doing some good with his job.

"You did everything you could for that girl, Gil."

He scoffed and rubbed his eyes. The dim lighting and loud music of the bar were making his vision blurry, and all he could taste in the back of his throat was cheap beer. "Is that what you call letting her get shipped back to Poland to get married to some old creep?"

She was a kid, no older than Sprite. It was a sickening 'case', no matter how sudden or pro bono it had been. She had even offered to pay with the only 10 dollars to her name, kept safe inside the birthday card it came in and everything. But none of it had done any good.

"We don't win every case, Gil."

"Well, you'd think this one would matter more!"

A few heads turned. He had been quietly sulking at the bar for hours, by this point, enough beers in that the bartender was beginning to eye him every time he asked for another.

Thena didn't even flinch.

Gil groaned again, scrubbing his face with his hands even though he'd been touching the bar that was cleaned only god knew when. He sighed, "I'm sorry."

But she understood his outburst, maybe even condoned it. "It's okay. I can't say I blame you for coming here and burying it under...how many is it now?"

More than he wanted to admit to. So, instead, he ruffled his hair and attempted to pull himself up in his seat with some dignity. "Doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure he's cut me off quietly anyway."

The bartender turned around, ears already burning and a towel slung over his shoulder. "Time to pay up, Boston Legal?"

"Very funny," Gil snarled at him. He knew it wasn't this guy's fault he'd had the worst day of his entire career, but that didn't mean he was in any mood for it. He slapped his hands over his jacket, his rumpled tie and then his suit pockets. "Shit."

"Oh come on, man, you're a lawyer, I know you've got-"

"It's okay, I'll pay it," Thena held her hand up, already reaching into her purse.

"Fuck," Gil cursed, hanging his head (as if he needed any more reason to be ashamed of himself tonight). He misjudged the distance, even knocking his forehead against the counter edge. Maybe it would be a little sobering, if he was lucky. "Thena, you don't have to-"

"It's okay," she assured him yet again, but she was still sounding more like 'work' Thena than the Thena had come to know and prefer.

Gil watched as the bartender took her card to close out his tab. He couldn't get any more pathetic anyway--what was a little more humiliation? "What are you doing here? Are the girls okay?"

Thena finally smiled at him, and it was the real Thena he saw, no matter how blurry. "They both asked to have sleepovers tonight. It's rare, but tomorrow is a half day at school, so I dropped them both off. When I asked how you were, the response wasn't all that clear, so I figured I would try here."

Gil made a face. He didn't remember talking with her. He felt around again for his phone, which he didn't so much pull out as clumsily drop it onto the bar. He blinked a few times, really trying to focus on reading his messages.

She had texted him, asking if he was doing okay and where he was. His response was a jumbled mess, but he unfortunately could make out something resembling him telling her that he was going to drown himself in beer and that she could join if she wanted.

He couldn't even remember reading, let alone responding to it. He really did need to be cut off for the night. He wasn't young and in college anymore--he would probably have a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning (afternoon).

Thena nodded as her card was handed back to her, Gil's debt settled. She turned back to him, "think you can walk?"

He grumbled. If he wasn't already, he would flush with guilt at the insinuation. "I'm not that bad, Thena, really."

She was kind to say nothing about him wobbling a little as he got up at first. But he made it to the door easily enough with her behind him. Maybe he did need a little hand on his back, but as soon as he was out in the cold night air it was at least a little better.

Thena pulled her jacket tighter around herself. She should have been at home, relaxing during her kid-free-evening. She could have been curled up reading or watching that funny ghost show she liked with a glass of wine or a mug of tea or something. Instead, she was picking up his drunk ass from a dive bar a block away from work.

"I'm sorry, Thena," he began apologizing, for the first time of many, he told himself. He owed her plenty more, and that was beyond his bar tab, which he would pay back with interest, too. "I just...that kid-"

He pushed his nose deeper into the soft material of her white turtleneck. The cotton or cashmere or whatever it was soaked up his tears. "She was just a kid."

Thena probably didn't consider herself a hugger, but she gave really nice ones. She was really gentle, and soft, and even if she was small boned, she still felt warm. Even in her boots, she was up on her toes just slightly to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling his face into her shoulder. "I know it's terrible. But you did everything you could, and we're just going to have to live with that."

"I know." Thena did know--she had sat in for the final leg of his plea. She had witnessed his loss and she had been the one to restrain him from mouthing off to the judge presiding and possibly losing his license. "It's not fair."

"What are we doing?" he asked, even hiccuping faintly as he closed his arms around her as well. He was a mess, probably stank of beer, and he shouldn't have been here in the first place. But he melted into Thena's good graces, letting her absorb some of his misery for him. "What good is any of this if I couldn't protect her?"

"That wasn't your job today," Thena whispered to him, and it felt as if it was right next to his ear. "Your job was to argue for her in her place, and you did that. You fought with all you had. But the law wasn't on our side, today. And there will be more days like this."

He knew that. He'd had hard cases before, lost cases before. But never anything like this. He'd had his faith in the judicial system and the court system and the social work system waver before--it came with the job. But now he wasn't sure how he was ever supposed to go back to work again.

"You lost a case, and it's never easy. But what that girl's parents are enforcing is not your fault."

It sure fucking felt like it was. Gil could still remember the look on the kid's face as it sunk in that it really was over, that they had lost and that her parents had every right to drag her back with them. He had handed her back the card with her birthday money in it, unable to accept it after their defeat.

"Come on," Thena leaned back, putting a hand on his cheek, probably checking his eyes to see if he was sober enough to make it back to his car. If she even called him an uber and watched him slump himself into it, it would already be more than he deserved.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, swallowing the lump in it. He looked around the parking lot, increasingly empty by this time on a work night. "I, uh, left my car back at work. It's probably where my wallet is, a-actually. I should-"

"We can get it tomorrow, Gil," she cooed in that melodic voice of hers. She insisted it was like cold, hard ice, but he thought it was gentle and elegant, like a curtain dancing in a window.

"I've gotta get home," he all but whimpered. What a wet blanket he was being, but whatever. He pulled out his phone again, attempting to find an uber she could toss him into and be rid of him.

"I know, come on," Thena pulled at his arm gently. And when he stumbled anyway she leaned closer, letting him rest his big, meaty shoulder against her little one. "I'll get you home."

He just stared. She looked really pretty in the streetlight glow, all blurry at the edges like it was a dream sequence in a movie. "You didn't have to come and get me."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Was I to leave you drowning in your beer?"

It would be a fitting end, at least. But he shrugged, leaning on her as little as he could afford as they made their way to her car. "You shouldn't have to deal with the aftermath of my shit."

But she shouldered him easily, getting him to the passenger door first and unlocking it with her fob. "We have the same job, Gil. Same job, same shit--I know what it's like to want to dive head first into a pool of cheap wine coolers and forget everything we've ever learned."

But she didn't, that was the difference. Because Thena had other obligations and responsibilities. And took them seriously, unlike how he had come over here without even his wallet somehow.

Gil leaned against the top of the car before letting her elbow him in. She was supporting him under his other arm, tucked into his side. He would rather be supporting her, like he had after she broke her arm. "Thanks, Thena--even if you're seeing me make a huge ass out of myself."

She gave him a really sweet smile as she separated herself from him at last, letting him get into the car seat. "Quite impossible."

She even closed the door for him, being a real gentleman to his drunk ass. Gil crossed his arms, tilting his head as he looked out her windshield. "I don't think that's true."

But she climbed into the driver's seat without a word, not wasting any time as she began backing out. "I've only picked you up a few times, but I believe I remember the way."

"You'll be fine," he murmured, still with a slight slur to his words. He would let her go and if he really had to correct her, he would. "Just look for a depressing bachelor complex and I'll be on the left."

Thena let out a laugh, which added at least some levity to the night.

She had a cute laugh. He looked at her again, although hopefully with her focused on the road she would just think he had a sore neck or something. "Y'know, maybe we should change firms."

"What makes you say that?"

He shrugged, his eyes getting fuzzy again. He was tired. "I mean, we're not allowed to do any pro bono work, which sucks. I know it's a small firm but come on."

"I do agree with you on that one," she muttered quietly. She could act all 'ice queen' if she wanted to, he knew she also had a soft spot for the kids they ended up working with.

"And the guys at the office," Gil made another face, but Thena was driving so she couldn't appreciate how funny it was. He made a noise to accompany it. "I don't like the way they look at you."

Thena didn't answer for a few minutes, probably trying to actually focus and navigate amidst his yapping. "I didn't think you noticed."

He blew a a raspberry, although with his dry lips it really sounded more like a wet fart. "Please, those pigs think they're being subtle when they look at you like--well, they're not, is what I'm getting at. And they wonder why I don't like them."

Thena let out a faint laugh again as she made a turn. She was driving a little slowly, but that was probably because she was afraid she would jerk him around too much and risk him hurling on her nice off-white interior. "I figured you were just too nice for their crass tastes in drinking buddies."

"Not disgusting enough, more like," Gil huffed again. He had to reel himself in and keep from divulging anything else. He didn't ever want to have to repeat to Thena the kind of language he'd heard them use to refer to her when they thought no one was listening.

And it didn't matter how many times he told them not to talk about her like that. All it ever did was get them convinced he was sleeping with her and beg him to tell them all about it.

"You would leave the firm just because of them?"

He slumped down further in his seat. He wasn't paying nearly enough attention to direct Thena if needed, but it was kind of nice just being in the car with her. Just them, a quiet drive, not even Sersi or Sprite or the loud, bouncy pop they liked to listen to between them.

Well, he did like some of the music they made him listen to.

"It wouldn't be just for that reason, there are more," he sufficed to say. But then he dragged himself up again and looked at her. "But I wouldn't leave without you."

Thena, driving, spared him a quick glance. She seemed surprised. "You wouldn't?"

"Of course not," he scoffed more lightly this time. Because that question was actually funny. "If anything, you're the reason I stayed past my probation period."

He wasn't supposed to tell her that. Well, he hadn't wanted to admit it to her, and certainly not like this. Whoops.

"Well," Thena began as they pulled into the parking lot of his building (unfortunately). Her voice really was like a lullaby. He had to wonder if he would even make it inside, at this rate. "If you decide to leave...then so will I."

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[irisintheafterglow]

can i put in my two cents on girldad!bakugo whose daughter got mom's quirk

cw: prohero!bkg, swearing, fem!reader, fluff and crack with a small side of angst

"yer mom's gonna fuckin' kill me if we don't get this out," he mumbles, furiously scrubbing at the splotches of rainbow paint covering his three-year-old daughter's previously white dress.

"fuckin!" his daughter echoes and he flinches.

"no, no, no. we can't say that," he says softly, kneeling down on the tile of the laundry room where she was watching him work. "mama's gonna kick my ass if she hears you swear, so we can't say that word...yet. m'kay sweetheart?"

"kick ass!" she laughs innocently, giggling as his face contorts into a mix of horror, shock, and joy. "dada, you funny," she babbles, reaching up to grab at his face. he fights the instinct to pull away, afraid of how she'd react if she looked too closely at the scars covering his face. you'd talked him through it numerous times before, but he was still scared she would be scared of all the battles etched into his skin. it was his own anxiety talking, he knew, and she must have received her empathy from you because she reached up toward her dad anyway. her little eyebrows pinch and her stubby fingers brush over the rough, discolored tissue. "dada ouchie?"

"dada ouchie long time ago, bubs," he murmurs, taking her hand and kissing her tiny nails. "but mama saved dada. and now," he lifts her from the floor and positions her comfortably on his hip, her head leaning against his shoulder, "baby needs to help save dada from mama."

"mama angry?" his daughter frowns and he nods, staring frustratedly at the pastel stains on the white fabric. "what dada do?"

"oi! it's not always my fault," he protests, leaning closer as his daughter tries to tug his hair. "though, i do admit, this is my shit to clean up."

"shit!" she repeats brightly, grinning up at him as he fondly rolls his eyes.

"i think you're doing this on purpose, you gremlin," he grunts and she smiles up at him mischievously.

"gremlin!" it's the same smirk he does, the only difference being her eyes match yours instead of his.

"you got yer dada's dirty mouth. mama's not gonna be happy, but i," he pecks a kiss on her forehead, "am ecstatic." his daughter's eyes temporarily flash emerald green and she points to the front door.

"zuzu," she informs him. he groans and bites back another curse, throwing the stained dress into a basket and hoping for the best.

"that dumbass isn't supposed to be here until six," bakugo grumbles. he adjusts his daughter and moves into the living room in time to catch a car pulling up at the curb of the house.

"dumbass!" he doesn't have time to scold her because, unfortunately, her quirk isn't done yet. while he hurries to kick any toys under the couch and wipe the faded paint off his hands, her eyes flash pink, red, and yellow a split second before a knock at the front door.

"mimi! eiji!" his daughter squeals in excitement. he sets her down so she can rush to the door, opening it to reveal a half-dozen pro heroes squished onto the front porch. she jumps straight into kirishima's open arms, a string of drool dripping from her wide smile.

"you're early," bakugo deadpans while his high school friends toe off their shoes. "wasn't expecting her to alert for another half hour." his daughter transfers from kirishima to mina, who throws her up into the air like a beach ball. "oi, watch it with her, pinky. don't be giving her a concussion."

"lighten up, bakugo," mina replies without missing a beat, tossing the squealing child again. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

"did her flight get delayed or something?" denki asks, taking the baby from mina and flying her around the room while making racecar noises. bakugo watches his daughter like a hawk, never more than five feet away from her. he won't admit that he trusts his friends, but he also knows he could never be too careful.

"nah," he frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. "i jus' fucked up, is all."

"how so?" bakugo mindlessly unpacks the various packages of chips and soda, organizing them on the kitchen counter and punching a stray balloon out of his way.

"accidentally sent her to school with the wrong dress on," he grimaces. "thought it was a different white one, but it was supposed to be the one for today." he disappears momentarily into the laundry room, re-entering with the stained white dress in his hand. "she was screamin' and cryin' about not having anything to wear for her school's paint-a-thon thing, so i just put this on her without checkin..."

"yeesh, she really did a number on this, didn't she?" kirishima says, examining the various spots of pink, blue, and green. "her mom say anything about what she was supposed to wear?"

"i didn't wanna bother her," he mumbles in shame. "you know how important this gig was for her." his friends nod, wracking their brains for how to improve the situation. it was mina's idea, originally, to host a welcome home party after you'd been overseas for a reconnaissance mission, which was why they'd all congregated at your house.

"if it means anything, i think it looks even better," she assures him with a pat on his shoulder. "the colors are nice."

"thanks, pinky. i'm just not good at this shit."

"what, being a dad? like it's hard?" kirishima clicks his tongue, lightly slapping denki on the back of his head.

"dad of a girl," bakugo corrects with a scowl, "you got sons, pikachu. don't even try me."

"i think what he means," kirishima gently interrupts after shooting denki a look, "is that you should be a little easier on yourself."

"she's just got her mom's quirk, y'know? i don't want her to grow up with a shitty dad that doesn't know how to help her develop her quirk." though your daughter could only track up to six people and locate them when they're within 100 feet, your ability to track up to 65 people and locate them on a country-wide scale made you highly desirable to agencies around the globe. with you gone, it was up to bakugo to take care of his daughter and keep the house in order, but he found himself struggling to know what decisions were the right ones.

"you're learning, bakubro, and so is she." denki gestures to your daughter sitting on the living room floor, concentrating on stacking wooden ice cream pieces. "she doesn't know what a 'bad dad' is. she just knows you, and i don't think you're a terrible dad at all." bakugo nods in lieu of answering, his cheeks heating as the rest of his friends echo their agreement.

"if this little ball of spunk is any indication of how much of you she's got in her," mina says with a fond smile, "then she's gonna be just fine." any further thoughts are halted by the front door swinging open again.

"i got the cake! we gotta put it in the fridge, though, since it might've been smushed during travel," deku announces, handing off a stack of gift boxes and catering platters to denki. "now where's my favorite girl?"

"zuzu!" on cue, she comes waddling around the corner of the couch and helps herself to her favorite uncle's shoulders, finding two fistfuls of green hair as handles.

"you better not drop my fuckin' daughter, izuku," bakugo warns. "i'll blast your ass to mercury."

"do you always swear this much with her around?"

"fuckin!"

"that's exactly what i don't think should happen," kirishima states, unsurprised. "have you been teaching her that stuff?"

"she's a smart girl. picks up on things quick, like her mama," he dodges. "speaking of, you got eyes on mama yet, baby?"

"no mama, dada," she replies. "mama home soon?"

"yeah, mama home soon, so we gotta get you ready." he's about to take his daughter off deku's shoulders when he hears mina gasp. he'd known her long enough to know that sound meant she had an idea, and those ideas weren't necessarily good ones. "you got somethin' to say, pinky?"

"let me get her ready, and i'll fix your little dress problem for you," she says cryptically. bakugo doesn't have much time to protest as his daughter is already stretching from his arms to mina's, giggling while they disappear down the hallway.

---

forty-five minutes and a handful of inflated balloons later, his daughter's eyes flash neon orange, the same color your eyes flash for him. she doesn't know any other color to assign me, you theorized one night as you laid together in comfortable darkness. i guess she just associates me with you.

"welcome home!" denki excitedly opens the confetti shooter while kirishima bombards you with a sizable flower bouquet. you're standing speechless in the doorway and he watches your eyeline; it scans the room and its many shimmering balloons, paper streamers, and hero friends until it lands on him and your daughter, holding tightly to his pinky by the kitchen table. when the glitter settles, he gives her a nod, an okay to let her run to you.

"hi, my darling!" you beam, picking her up to hold her close and meet your husband's eyes over her shoulder. "and hello, my love," you murmur as his hands find your waist, pulling you close and pressing his lips to your forehead.

"missed you," he hums, his breathing finally returning to a steady rhythm for the first time in weeks. "she's been a handful."

"i'm sure she has." katsuki's expression is soft, only reserved for you and the child in your arms.

"how was the job?"

"a lot," you admit, allowing yourself to decompress now that you're home. "i can't tell if my head hurts from my quirk or the ten-hour flight," you smile tiredly.

"you got enough in the tank to entertain our friends? or do you need me to kick 'em out?"

"if it's these guys," you say, looking at the rowdy group of guests passing around plates and flatware, "of course i can."

"i guess we got more incoming," katsuki observes as another carload full of his friends arrive. "can we get you some food? baby and i will handle being welcome committee."

"well, do you, uh," you chuckle, finally acknowledging the pink-splattered elephant between you two. "do you wanna tell me why your shirt looks like you hugged a rainbow? and why her dress' stains look older?"

"oh, right. this." he looks down at his previously white button-down, now colored various shades of orange, blue, yellow, and pink to match his daughter's dress. you raise your eyebrows knowingly, already amused even before he answers.

"yeah," you smirk. "that." he shrugs, snaking a hand behind your back and leading you to the platters of dinner on the counter.

"it was paint-a-thon day."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[tokkiwrites]

RUN, RABBIT, RUN.

in which kraven loves to watch his neighbor from a far, until watching becomes useless, his hunger growing until he can't hold back anymore.

tags: smut, mean dom kraven, sub reader, dumbification of reader, kraven calling reader bunny, themes of stalking, some violence, unprotected sex (p in v), breeding and more filthy stuff.

he woke up every day, feeling her sweet smell even from across the apartments. it was the same mundane routine every morning: she wakes up, takes a shower, brushes her teeth, makes herself a coffee then gets dressed in the most perfect, stunning clothes and runs to her college classes. yes, the same everyday, but to kraven, it showed that she was disciplined - obedient.

he snarled, feeling himself get hard when he finally saw her through the window. she was putting on her shoes before heading out. kravens bedroom window was looking straight into y/n's living room, and for him, seeing her just when she passed by that window was becoming less fulfilling as each day rolled by.

he wanted her - no, needed her. he needed to bury himself deep inside of her, feel her soft skin, and hear her voice as she pleaded for his mercy. he knew y/n would be the perfect play bunny he wanted all along.

time started to pass by slower, and kraven was only anticipating more and more the moment y/n walks through that door. he wanted to talk to her, make her smile that pretty smile he loves, then make her kneel down at his feet and submit.

and he couldn't wait any longer.

he strolls to the other apartment complex just across his, taking the elevator to y/n's floor. O7:OO PM, she should be here any moment. and so right he was, because kraven could feel her sweet vanilla perfume from 10 miles away. It was driving him insane.

he wanted to eat her, indulge in her sweet flesh , kiss her, and show her that he was the only one she needed. it was clear she was made for him - for him to take and do as he pleases...kraven knew.

kraven was snapped out of his trance when a soft voice peaked his ears up. "Can I help you, sir?" y/n tilted her head to the side, settling the bags she was carrying down in front of her apartment door.

"Oh, hey. i live just across the street, and -- i know this might sound strange, but i think I've found something that's yours." liar. whilst he had something that was hers, he didn't find it, he stole it. a pair of pink cotton gloves that he stole two weeks ago when she went grocery shopping without them.

"Oh my god! I've been looking for them for so long!" she throws her arms up as she takes the gloves and stares at them intently. "they mean so much to me. I got them from my grandparents a few years ago..."

"Yeah, i, uh.. i saw them falling out of your pockets some time ago and picked them up, but I didn't know if i should return them to you directly or to the administrator. I'm kraven, by the way."

she giggled, her cheeks still rosy from the cold outside. "Thank you, kraven, really. I'm y/n, do you, maybe... want to come inside and have some tea?" Oh, y/n, you poor thing.

"I'd like that, sure." kraven shrugs, a smile crawling onto his lips as he followed slowly behind y/n into her apartment. "It's a pretty place you've got here."

"Oh, thank you! I'm an interior design major, you know?" she smiles, taking off her coat and offering kraven a seat.

"Aren't you scared I'm a serial killer or something?" he chuckles, his voice low. "Nope! it's kind of embarrassing, but sometimes i watch you through my living room window. I always thought you were cute... but was too shy to say anything. guess the universe already had plans, no?" she smiles, waving her hands in the air as she makes her way to the small kitchenette area to turn the kettle on.

kraven pushed his tongue into his cheek, trying to remain composed as the girl jumped towards the kitchen. a dress in the winter? fuck, but he loved it so much. it was white, knitted, and adorned with soft lace edges. She had on long white tights and fluffy leg warmers - she does look like a bunny. a bunny he'll eat up any moment now.

"What tea do you want?"

"Oh, any tea is fine."

"Is lavender ok?"

"Yeah, all though--" he licks his lips before inching closer to y/n that had her back turned to him. "I'd rather have you first, then the tea." he finally turns her around full force, trapping the girl between him and the counter.

"What are you--" she looks up at him, her heart almost ripping through her chest. "shh, bunny. do you know how much I've been yearning for this?"

"K-Kraven, I-" she shivers at the sight of the man towering above her. "You want it too. I can feel it." he inches closer and sniffs her neck longingly."Don't you, bunny?"

he grabs her by her hips and pushes his crotch closer to hers.

"I-"

"I don't like stuttering, sweetheart, you know? tell me, loud and clear." she practically purrs as his hand grabs the small of her neck and pulls her in.

"I d-do- please.."

"Please, what?" he sinks his fingers deeper into the soft flesh of her thighs before licking a long strip from her clavicle to her ear. "Want me to use you, huh?"

"p-please- fuck!" she winches as kraven pinches her nipples that indented up through the dress "tsk, i don't like when you say those words, bunny. do bunnies talk like that, huh?" he coos almost sarcastically, before tugging at her hair. "answer me, slut."

"n-no, they don't, I'm sorry, please just touch me, please.."

"I'll think about that." he tugs at her hair once more before pushing her down on the cold tile floor.

"crawl."

without hesitation she makes her way desperately on all fours at his feet, looking up at him through her already teary eyes. "Open your mouth."

y/n couldn't believe what was happening, the way she was willing to obey every command the tall male gave her, it made her feel so helpless and small - she couldn't lie though, she thoroughly enjoyed it.

obliging, she parts her lips and shots her head up to stare at kraven, excitement bubbling up in her stomach. he leaned lower just a little before swiftly placing his thumb inside y/n's warm cavity. "suck. bunny"

nodding, she takes the digit in her mouth, sucking and swirling her tounge around it. she didn't know exactly what to do and how, only she knew how much she wanted to make kraven proud.

"good pet. now..." he paused before reaching to unbuckle his pants "want you to suck this." kraven pulls down his pants, letting his cock spring free, hitting his stomach.

y/n's eyes widened at the sight. she'd never seen something so big -- it was scaring her, but the churn in her stomach pushed her to slowly wrap her rosy lips around the tip of kraven's large member.

"yeah- just like that, bunny. i wanna see you choke on my cock, c'mon." he says before thrusting deep in y/n's throat, causing her to let out a choked out moan. "be good and take it all."

grabbing her by the hair he begins to snap his hips, hitting the back of her esophagus, drool and precum running at the sides of her mouth and dripping from kraven's dick. "fuck, bunny- your pretty mouth takes my cock so so well..."

the praises he was throwing and the low growls gave her a little more confidence -- not only that, but the pool in her panties grew larger, staining through them. kraven could feel it, smell it, the desire and lust, his groans and her whines mixing in the air as he chased his high.

"I'm gonna cum straight down your throat, bunny, fuck- better swallow all of it." he furrows his brows as his moves become more erratic, finally shooting his seed into y/n's mouth. "swallow." he sternly says, staring down at the girl, who was all a mess.

"So pretty on your knees for me, such a good pet." he coos, abruptly picking her up and settling her on the counter. "I'm gonna fuck you so good, fill you up and make you have my babies."

y/n could only moan, pressing her thighs together in anticipation. "that whar you want? huh? want me to fuck you senseless and fill that belly up?"

"please.." his eyes darken, licking his lips he starts stroking himself before ripping y/n's clothes clean off, leaving the girl shivering on the cold surface of the counter.

"I'm gonna make you take this cock every day, it'll be the only thing you think about." he chuckles somberly before plunging straight into her wetness.

"fuck, bunny, you're so wet. you hear?" he laughs as he moves slowly, allowing y/n to hear the wet sounds as he worked himself in.

y/n throws her head back, her head spinning from the fullness in her lower region. "you like that? huh?"

he mocks before pushing in further. "fucking slut."

drool and tears dribbled from her face onto the counter, wet sounds of slapping echoing throughout her whole apartment.

she couldn't believe this was happening, the way his cock felt inside of her, the sounds she didn't even know she could make. all came to a halt when she felt a strike on her thigh, making her yelp. "Down."

she looks up almost disappointed from the sudden lack of friction. "i said down." he growls before he takes her off the counter, bending her over it instead. "look at that ass." he almost wailed as he delivered a hars slap, making y/n arch her back, redness spreading on her skin. the pleasure was pooling at the pit of her stomach -- she didn't know she liked it this rough, she didn't know her hot neighbor wanted to fuck her either, yet here they were.

without any warning, kraven pushes inside of her again, roughly pounding into her core, one arm snaking around her waist whilst the other grabbed her neck, pulling her flush against his chest. "you take me so well, bunny. you were made for me, yeah? all mine to use and-- fuck!" he growls, sinking his teeth into y/n's shoulder, making her cry out. "my pretty pet."

y/n could feel herself getting closer, kraven's dick was hitting her in just the right places - and the way she could see it forming a bump in her lower belly wasn't helping.

"you wanna cum, bunny?" kraven tightens his grip around her neck, plastering another harsh slap on her thigh. "y-yes, please!" y/n sobs, tears mixing on her face with salty sweat.

"go ahead, bunny. cum around my cock." that's it, as soon as those words hit her ears, she released, clenching tightly around his shaft. her legs felt like rubber, if it wasn't for his strong hold on her waist she would've most likely fallen.

"gonna fill you up so so good, bunny-- shit-" he moans as he becomes sloppy in his strokes, hitting deeper and deeper into y/n, after a few more minutes cumming far inside her.

their quickened breaths replaced the loud and sinful sounds that probably alerted all of the neighbors. y/n was sprawled out on the counter, and kraven was still deep inside of her. when he finally pulls out, it causes y/n to whine at the sudden emptiness, semen dripping down her bruised thighs and onto the tiled floor.

"I wish you could see yourself right now, bunny." he chuckles, running his palm through his locks, then down y/n's spine. "You'll be so good to me. I just know it."

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎  토끼's NOTE : sorry for any grammatical errors  !!! this has 2k words. also, thank you so much for the amazing response to my first post !! I'll get to your requests next week. I've already started writing a little !!!

[surielstea]

Honeymoon

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader celebrate being newly weds.

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | pet names (baby, love, wife) | shadow play | bondage | multi-orgasm | overstimulation | oral (f receiving) | creampie (?) | dirty talk | mentions of having sex on the beach | Azriel being hot

A/N: I hate this ngl but I hope you guys enjoyy

Word count: 5.2k

The sound of Cassian's rambunctious laughter echoes throughout the entire house but Azriel was too preoccupied staring at me to take any notice of his brother's amusement— which was targeted towards Morrigan. Who was so drunk I doubted she could walk. I giggled as she battled with a stubborn wine cork, and was evidently losing. Familiar arms wrap around me and pull me into a warm embrace. "Let's go home," Azriel murmurs and I look up to him with a soft smile. It was two hours past midnight, our wedding ceremony started at noon. It's been a long day, to say the least.

"I just want to make sure Mor gets home safe and then—" I begin to pull away from his grasp but he tugs me right back into him. "Do you ever worry about yourself?" He questions and I roll my eyes. "I'm allowed to care for my friends." I justify but he only pulls me closer. "It's our night." He argues and I can't help but melt into him at the words. "Mor will sleep here tonight, you've got nothing to worry over." He gently rubs up and down my sides and I solicit an exhausted sigh. "We can go home and spend our first night as husband and wife together before we leave for the Summer Court tomorrow." He offers, his tone alluring. I twist my lips to the side, contemplating giving in to my newlywed husband or staying around until everyone found their way home.

"Okay?" He prods and I look up to him once more, though I should've known better than to let my gaze meet his and still expect to deny him. "Okay." I nod and his smile goes wide, resulting in dimples appearing to crease his cheeks.

He barely even lets me say goodbye before he winnows us right into the sitting room of our home.

Azriel pulls me through the dimly lit hall of our house as I stumble over my heels, squeezing his hand tightly in a signal for him to slow down, the eager male however had no intention of wasting any more time without me in his arms, just us two.

I'd be lying if I said some alone time wasn't exactly what I needed. Alone time, with him, that is. He seems like the happiest male on earth every time he glances back at me while I'm already looking at him returning his grin.

He pulls me into the master bedroom, leaning back against the door behind him and clicking it shut. I let go of his hand and stride toward the bed, plopping down onto it in a bundle of white tulle.

My feet are practically screaming they're in so much pain. I groan as I lean down, unable to reach the clasps of the heels due to my excessive amount of skirts. Azriel only chuckles as he watches me struggle to get ahold of my shoe. "What's so funny?" I glower up at him and he folds his lips inward to stop himself from laughing any further. He stepped closer and in two long-legged strides, he was directly in front of me. "Nothing beloved," He crouches down and settles on his knees before me with a sickeningly sweet look in his eyes. "How many skirts can one dress have?" He muttered as he pushed the ballgown material in every which way. "Too many," I sigh, head craning to the side as I stretch my neck.

I feel sweet relief as one of my shoes comes off, and the other quickly follows.

He discards the horrid heels across the room and looks up at me proudly. I would marry him all over again just because of that look. I grab him by his collar and pull him up towards me with a sloppy grin, leaning forward and pecking his lips with an uncontrollable smile.

"Your suit looks really good on you," I say dreamily as I begin unbuttoning his dress shirt. "Yeah?" He looks at me with a teasing smile, standing to his full height and staring down at me. "Mhm." I nod with a dazed smile, utterly love-drunk on him. His hands come to the back of my head, undoing my pinned-up hair that took hours for Nuala to do this morning. Shadows swished around us haphazardly as we both silently took care of each other.

Once I got his shirt fully undone I moved to tug it down his shoulders.

I feel a tug at the base of my scalp and I wince as I realize my hair is being pulled. "Ow— Azriel," I bring my hands back to meet his and he looked at me with slight amusement. "My fingers are too big." He muttered and a smile pulled at my lips. "I've heard that one before." I snicker and he rolls his eyes, taking his hands away from my hair and allowing me to do it myself.

It takes me less than a minute until my hair is unbounded and tumbling down my back. I look up at him with a soft smile and he mirrors it, hands coming to my cheeks reflexively, cradling my face in his all-too-big, scarred hands.

"My beautiful wife," The words roll so easily from his tongue and the title has me flushing profusely, by the mother, we're married and he still makes me go red. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips.

The kiss isn't hungry or lustful, just pure innocence and love. His rough hands are gentle when holding me, and his lips on mine are so precise and careful.

I smile wildly at the feel of warm adoration flooding through his side of the bond without hesitance. I sent my own version of it back only to find his mental shields completely gone, it was just us, the spymaster didn't feel the need to hide anything.

I pull back and quickly stand to my full height, silently turning around, and without a word he understands what I want. His fingers come to the white laces of my dress, untying the delicate strings as gently as he could manage. As soon as he's got them all undone, then the rest of the clasps, I can fully breathe again. I release a soft sigh as I feel the tight bodice loosen and dip from my chest. He helps me step away from the gown, shadows carrying the expensive white fabric to the armoire where it'll be hung.

"That dress is evil," I sigh in relief, looking up to Azriel who was preoccupied staring at every inch of my body.

I was wearing a dainty white lingerie set that seemed like it would fall apart completely if he were to pull at one loose thread. "You've been wearing this all day?" He grabs me by my waist and pulls me into his chest. I giggle at his neediness and wrap my arms around the back of his neck, then give him a cheeky nod. "I would've taken that dress off a lot sooner if I'd known." He hums, head dipping into the juncture between my shoulder and neck. My hand goes into his hair as I lean up into him, he was the only warmth I could find in this cold room. The lighthearted and sweet energy between us shifts into something powered by need.

He backs away from my shoulder and moves to kiss my lips with a passion I recognized well. My hands come to his jaw but before he lets me even think about reciprocating his urgency he's moving back to my jaw, peppering kisses down the column of my throat, the valley of my peaked breasts, all the way to my navel as he lowers down onto his knees. —And when he pushes me back onto the bed and settles between my legs, I know, he's mine and mine alone.

He looks up at me with swirling hazel eyes, all I have to do is nod before he's shredding through my undergarments, and without much foreplay, his lips attach to the apex of my thighs.

Breath escapes me as he wickedly flicks his tongue over my sensitive clit, my hand shooting into his hair as a whine drags from my throat. I feel him smile against me at the reaction, I look down to see his eyes already on me, catching my gaze. My brows furrow as shadows swirl around my thighs and pin them down onto the bed as he slowly moves downward to where I ached for him most.

His tongue slips over my slit and I arch upward. "C'mon Az, don't be mean." I cry out, pulling at his hair as he teases at my entrance with a stupid smirk on his face. "Need more," I whine. "What exactly do you need more of?" He purrs, his breath fanning over my wet folds, forcing me to clench around nothing for any form of friction. "No teasing." I shake my head with a pitiful whine. "Not even just a little?" He mocks, then his teeth nip at my clit and my breath hitched as I feel heat flood the sensitive area. "You like that did you?" He taunts, his tongue coming flat against the bud to soothe it. "Don't worry baby," He tuts as shadows swirl up my arms and tether me to the bed to prevent my squirming. "Just be a good wife and I'll give you what you want, yeah?" He hums and the proposition makes me throb with pure need.

"Az," I sigh out helplessly, tugging at my restraints but my whines die in my throat as his tongue delves into my folds, collecting every drop of arousal that was a result of him and him alone.

I grin my hips up into his face and he grins wildly, his hands coming around my thighs to pull me closer as he feasts on me like he hasn't eaten in years. My hips lift as I buck into his mouth and my silent command somehow reaches him, because the next thing I know he's dipping lower and finding my opening.

I open my legs wider before he can even think to ask and he smiles at how well he's got me trained. "Good girl," The praise slips from his lips and pushes me towards my climax more than anything else. His head dives low and his tongue enters me without struggle.

I clench the sheets in my fist and tears begin welling in my water line. "Fuck, Az," I moan out. He replies with a wicked flick of his tongue, his arms tightening as he brings me closer, I glance down to see him entirely engulfed in the taste of me like he was drunk on my arousal.

My hand goes into his hair as I run out of oxygen, panting heavily at the feeling of his head between my legs. He finds that sweet spongy spot deep inside of me and toys with it, flicking and swirling his tongue across it with a precision that had me mewling his name like a prayer.

He pulls away from the spot for a moment in order to explore other areas, his long tongue pressing against my moldable walls and I clench around him, if it weren't for his hands holding me down I'd be crushing his head in. I grind my hips up in protest so he returns to that spot, and with it comes a forming know that was growing increasingly tighter.

"Fuck, m' close," I warn, confining my ministrations upward with my hips. My movements become ragged and hurried as my high approaches, but he remains fluid and teasing. I whine as he curls his tongue in such a way that I'm left breathless, my hands in his hair go stiff and the knot burrowed inside of me winds itself so tight that it snaps and I'm blessed with a surge of pleasure as it sweeps over me, a mix of both heat and euphoria blooming from my core and as I release, it’s Azriel’s name coming from my lips.

"Good," He eases as he slowly backs away. “That’s it,” His hands stroke up and down my hips and I release a soft whimper at the sensation. “You can handle more can’t you love?” He murmurs between kisses as he naps his lips back up to my neck. “Mhm,” I nod shakily and he smiles, nipping at my sensitive now marked skin. “So good for me.” He rasps before sucking on the exposure of my neck.

I clench my legs together at the absence of the shadows from my thighs but the ones at my wrist remain. I whine as I grind down, already needy for more. He presses a soft kiss to my neck at the action. “Please Az, need you,” I whine and a grin pulls at his lips. “Is that right?” He leans down and the weight of his hardened cock pressed into my abdomen. My brows pinch together and I nod. “Please Az, I’ll make you feel so good.” I implore as I stare up at his delighted expression.

“Be good and stay still for me then, okay?” He prompts and I nod with wide eyes. “That my girl.” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead before dipping down yet again, this time aiming towards my chest. He pulls at the string like bra and it unravels at his fingertips.

His calloused hands grip my right breast while his mouth charts my left. His tongue— that was just inside of me, flicks over the sensitive bud and I whine pathetically, pulling at the shadows holding me down in order to weave my fingers through his hair. Hazel eyes meet mine and for a moment, in the dim lighting, they seemed golden. He released my left breast with one last swipe of his tongue and moved to my right one.

My hardened bud quickly became overstimulated as his scarred thump rolled right circles around it. My chest arched up, closer to his face. He hummed in approval at the action and I sighed out his name, over and over again, he was all I could think about. I was completely drunk on his touch and he hasn’t even fucked me yet.

“Feels good, ah— so good.” I mewl as his heavy cock pressed into my folds. I grind up against the fabric of his pants but it does little to get me any closer to my release. “Az,” I whine. “I know,” He whispers and moves his way back up my chest to my jaw. “I’ll give you what you want, my wife has been so good for me, I think she deserves a reward.” He purrs into the shell of my ear and I nearly moan at just the sound of his voice.

Shadows leave my wrists and unchain me from the bed while Azriel gets off his pants. I do the rest of his work with his boxers, feeling needy enough to get myself the rest of the way to my climax— but when he presses himself into my folds, I know it’d be impossible without him. He presses a loving kiss to my lips one last time before his tip aligns itself with my entrance and without any further warning he pushes himself inside, he only goes as deep as the head and I nearly meet my high at the feel of his thick member finally press into my sensitive walls.

“Gods, so fucking tight.” He grunts out and I smile hazily at the words, wrapping my legs around his hips so I’m forced to open wider for him. He lifted his hips and then thrusts them back in, his movements precise so he only entered another inch or two, but it was enough for a moan to bubble from my lips. “You’re taking me so well,” He presses a kiss to my temple. “Such,” He begins but thrusts deeper mid-sentence. “A good,” thrust. “Wife.” He praises and I tighten around him at the sentiment of the words.

His hand snakes up my waist, thumps at my breast, then past my arm and finds my hand. He intertwines our fingers and I hold his hand tight as he stretches me out.

He rolled his hips at a rate that had me losing any coherent thought. Finally, his base finds mine, his balls slapping against my ass. “Fuck, you feel good,” He curses, his head falling into the crook of my shoulder as he picks up speed and begins pumping into me faster. The sound of his cock entering me has me drooling, and the feel of him, gods, I could feel every ridge as well as the slight curve that gave him perfect access to my most sensitive spot.

“Az, I can’t,” I murmur as I feel that familiar knot begin to form yet again, sensing I wouldn’t last long if he kept this up. “So close,” I sigh with a fucked out expression as he just admired it. “Release on my cock baby,” He hums and I whimper. He increases speed and I barrel towards my high, chasing it and quickly catching up when he doesn’t cease his actions. My hand squeezes around his as white-hot pleasure consumes me whole.

“Azriel,” I cry out as tears drop from my waterline and stream down my cheeks. He doesn’t let up and I never get the chance to come down from my high, the result of my release only lingers but it never fully leaves, it only continues to build. He doesn’t dare stop, if anything he gets faster. My cunt becomes red and puffy with overstimulation, but he doesn’t care, because he knows how much I love it.

“I’m gonna fill you so full baby,” His free hand comes down onto my abdomen where he can feel himself inside of me. “Can’t wait to watch my cum drip out of you.” He purrs, his lips ghosting over my jaw. I squeeze around him at the words, eyes clenching shut at the pleasurable pain. “You like that? Like when I cum inside?” He hums and all I can do is nod. “Mhm, need to feel you spill deep inside me.” I cry out. “Such a good wife,” He admires, and again, that nickname, it leaves me utterly defenseless.

His hand scopes down my hip and grips my thigh before shadows help guide it up, wrapping around his torso and allowing him to press into me so much deeper. “Az— I’m,” I lose breath and he nods. “I know,” He pants. “I’m close too.” He reassures and I sigh in both relief and pleasure. His hips roll once, then twice, and on the third, I grind my hips up to match his pace and we both reach our highs.

His warm seed spurts into me, so much of it that it’s still leaking into me even once my climax passes, only when he slows his thrusts does the flow end. He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead before pulling out entirely with a grunt, his release slipping out of me onto my thighs. He tumbled down beside me and released an exhausted breath.

“You’re so good at that,” I smile dreamily. “I don’t think you would’ve married me if I wasn’t.” He replies with a breathy chuckle. Realization dawns upon me and I turn my head toward him, he is already looking at me. “We’re married,” I say giddily and he nods with the same smile as mine. “We are,” His hand comes to my arm and he rubs his thumb up and down it then stops. “But I think that’ll change real soon if I don’t give you aftercare.” He springs up and I giggle. “I’m glad you know your limits.”

————

"C'mon Az," I beckon as I slip from his arms, dragging a groan from the male who was fisting the hem of my white nightgown and pulling me back down onto the bed. "We're going to be late," I grumble against his shoulder as he smushed me into him. "Tarquin is expecting us at noon." I remind and he grumbles a curse beneath his breath, nuzzling his face into my shoulder. "I don't think he'll mind if we're a few minutes late." He presumes. "Or a few days." The male adds and I roll my eyes as he pulls me closer. "Azriel," I warn and he does nothing aside from a dragged-out whine. "Big baby." I grit out as I squirm from his arms but his hold is iron and I'd be lying if I said I didn’t want to stay in his embrace.

"Just five more minutes." He begs. "You said that an hour ago." I retort with a glare. "And here we still are." He flashes me a crooked smile and I sigh, making my surrender clear. His eyes flash with pure joy while he pulls me impossibly closer, crushing me with his large, tattooed biceps— not that I was complaining.

"Only fife mibuntes," I mumble, cheeks smushed between his chest and arm. "Only five minutes." I feel him nod, he presses a hard kiss to the crown of my head before propping his chin atop it and taking a deep content breath, arms possessively tightening any time I try to move away.

The thought of being married hits me full throttle, the idea of being connected to this male for the rest of my life dawns upon me all in one moment and I feel nothing aside from pure bliss.

I wrap my arms around him and pull him close, flipping us over so he's on his back, his huge wings spread out on either side of him as I straddle his abdomen. He looks up at me lazily and the smile on his face is uncontrollable. "We're married." I grin wildly and he nods, biting his lower lip in order to shut himself up from every stupid love confession threatening to spill from him, so instead his hands come to the back of my neck and he pulls me down, his lips slotting atop mine. "We don't have time for this." I sigh against his mouth. "Then I can't wait to fuck you on the beach." He hums and my cheeks burn hot. I place my lips back over his to ignore replying to his awfully arousing comment.

"It's been five minutes." He mumbles against my mouth and I immediately reel back, narrowing my eyes at him. "Now who's the responsible one?" I tease, flipping off of him despite his whine for me to stay.

I waddle over to my armoire, walking foreign to me due to how impeccably sore I was between my legs.

I find a white summer dress and smile, slipping off my nightgown Azriel dressed me in last night, then putting the flowy dress on. Azriel was quick to appear behind me and tie the strings. I hum contentedly as he places both his hands on my shoulders when he finishes, leans down, and presses a kiss to my temple.

I grin, looking up at him with a cheeky expression before rising onto my toes and planting my lips on his.

"C'mon, get dressed," I press a hand to his bare chest as I swivel around and push him towards the wardrobe.

————

The summer court was hot. Far too hot to be wearing more than one layer of clothing. So Azriel and I ended up on the coast of Adriatta, watching the ocean rise and fall as it washed over the sand. I smile as I walk along the shoreline, remembering how I used to collect seashells as a child, my mother used to take me here every summer before she got sick. I only have good memories of this place.

"Look at this one." I hold out a small tower shell towards my husband and he barely looks at it, his eyes seeming to much rather be on me, a small smile gracing his lips. He holds his palms out where he holds an array of other shells I've found over our walk along the sea. I place the shell into his hands and we continue to walk hand in hand.

I string him along and he follows mindlessly, shadows swishing wherever the shadow of my body was, attempting to stay close to but keep out of the sun. Eventually, we find an alcove made entirely of calcite rock. The archway is just big enough to fit Azriel and his wings, shadows roaming freely in the darkness. We continue walking, Azriel watching me as I look at the structure curiously, like it's been man-made but no one could forge a rock like this.

My breath hitched as I came across a spot still under the rock that arched into a clear ocean view, entirely secluded like this cove was for us and us alone. I smile happily and rush over to my husband who had the beach bag slung over his shoulder. I take it from him and plop it down onto the soft sand, taking a large, blanket-like towel out and laying it down on the ground. Azriel smiles down at me as I plop down onto it. He squats down and hands me my seashells, I take them gratefully.

I line the edge of the towel with the found shells while Azriel dishes his book from the bag before finding his spot beside me. He rests on his stomach, wings spread out, the membrane shining golden and red under the soft gleam of sunlight. I smile at the image until his right wing pokes me in the side. "Ouch," I murmur and his wing tucks back in, he looks at me apologetically. I looked at his left wing which was spread out entirely and decided he couldn't have been comfortable with just one wing stretched out.

I flip over and straddle his lower back, careful to avoid his wings. "Go ahead." I run my hand down the hard structure of his right wing and he takes the hint, spreading it onto my side of the blanket then allowing it to rest comfortably. "We should've brought two towels." I hum and he opens his book back up, seemingly content with me sitting atop him as if I weighed nothing.

I lean down, careful not to touch his wings, and settle myself in the space between them on his broad back. My chest rests against his back as I wrap my arms around his neck and my nose comes to the crook in his shoulder, peering over him to look down at his book.

I read a few pages along with him but soon found the book to be boring, Azriel was always into reading classics that had some sort of hidden meaning he had to find. I could barely get through a few chapters without falling asleep. So instead I rested my head on his shoulder blade and listened to the sounds of the waves crashing against the sand then receding into the water, all to repeat the process over again.

I trace shapes on my husband's tanned back, stars and smiley faces, a lot of hearts, but most importantly the letters that spelled out "I love you" he closed his book once I finished the three words and he turned his head only a fraction. "I love you too." He hums and I smile like a schoolgirl with a crush. I scoot up on his back and wrap my arms around him tighter. I pepper the side of his face in quick pecks and a grin spreads across his features.

He cranes his neck to the side and I manage to find his lips with mine, placing a loving kiss on them.

"Is this even comfortable for you?" I ask and he nods. "I used to do pushups with Cassian towering weights on me, this is nothing." He hums and I roll my eyes at his competitive side. “You’re cute when you try to act so tough,” I say with a hum, my hands taking free liberty in roaming his exposed chest. “The entire continent is afraid of me.” He states and I giggle. “See? Adorable.” I lean over his shoulder and kiss his cheek. He grumbles a curse and I continue roaming his muscles with my fingertips, eventually finding his defined v-line, like an arrow from his hips. I drag my nails up and down the exposed skin, his shorts going awfully low.

"If you keep that up I'll winnow us right back into bed." He warns and I press a soft kiss to his shoulder blade. "Why so far?" I hum, my fingers finding the waistband of his swim shorts. "Don't you want to fuck me on the beach Azzie?" I recall and he flipped over, knocking me off his back. I yelped and he snickers, watching as I shake the sand from my hair. “Not funny.” I stand up, he leans back against his palms and just stares up at me.

“If you’re not going to help cool me off I’m going for a swim,” I glare at him but he stays quiet, just silently watching as I remove the lightweight wrap from around my torso and toss it at him. He doesn’t even try to catch it, just lets it hit him in the chest as he stares unabashedly at my body in the sunlight, glimmering like the sea behind me. He watches as I walk away and towards the shore, I can feel his stare from a mile away, on my waist, my chest, my ass. It didn’t matter, I was apparently uncharted territory, despite the fact that he had me under him last night.

“You want to join me?” I turn back to ask and all he can think of to do is nod. He stood and reached back, then took his shirt off over his wings and it was my turn to stare. His tanned skin rippled with muscle, the sun gleaming down onto his dark tattoos that I’d traced my hands along so many times I could draw them with my eyes closed.

“You staring at me creep?” He squints down at me due to the sun in his eyes. I smile childishly up at him. “Never!” I gasp. “I’m married I’ll have you know.” I wiggle my left hand in his face to show off the sapphire gem on my wedding ring, perfectly matching the color of his siphons. “And my husband could beat you up,” I cross my arms and march towards the water.

“Could he now?” He asks, hands snaking around my waist as I nod. “He’s big and strong, and so tall,” I say dreamily. “He sounds pretty incredible.” Azriel muses and I grin widely. “He is, but you know who’s even better?” I say and his brows crease possessively. “Who?” His hands leave my waist and I whirl around to look up at him. “His wife.” I supply, my smile widening as I watch his confused expression turn to one of realization.

“I’m inclined to agree.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips, I can’t help but lean up into it.

“Now c’mon,” I grab his hand and intertwine our fingers. “I think I saw a few water sprites earlier I wanna say hi!” I pull him closer to the water. He chuckles and follows along.

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[juneberrie]

I KNEW IT ౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚ georgie cooper x reader

word count: 1.1k || masterlist

summary: georgie confesses his feelings on the swingset

author's note: if he needs a dog i can bark. (takes place in early season five ish + doesn't follow the plot cause i can't be bothered to rewrite this)

knock. knock. knock.

you waited outside of the cooper house, hands in your pockets. a few moments later, a young boy opened the door. he looked you up and down.

"um, hi! is georgie cooper here?" you asked, smiling at the boy.

he stared at you, before turning his head to the side. "georgie, theres a girl at the door looking for you," he called.

"a girl?" you heard a woman gasp.

georgie rushed into view, shoving the boy behind him. "hey, let's go!" he said quickly. the second he stepped a foot onto the porch, a woman came up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. he groaned.

"georgie," the woman smiled warningly, staring at him.

george shrugged her hand off and moved to stand next to you. "mom, this is y/n," he mumbled. "y/n, this is my mother."

"hi," you smiled, reaching out a hand to shake.

"well hello there," she replied. "you, uh, one of georgie's friends from school?"

"yes ma'am." you nodded. "we have math together."

the young boy poked his head out from behind his mother. "i'm in that class too."

"shut up, sheldon," georgie snapped. you swatted his arm.

"georgie, be nice," you scolded. he rubbed his arm, mockingly repeating your words.

"where are y'all off to?" mrs. cooper asked. she raised an eyebrow at her son.

georgie huffed. "mom. i'm seventeen, i dont nee—"

he was cut off by a piercing glare from his mother.

he groaned. "the park, now can we go?" he grabbed your hand, turning to leave. it felt like a swarm of butterflies were just released in your stomach. mrs. cooper cleared her throat.

you laughed and pulled georgie back. "the park just down the road from the elementary school, mrs. cooper."

she beamed at your politeness. "i like her," she told georgie, who's face flushed. "right, now, georgie, you make sure to walk this nice young lady home, alright?"

"i know, mom," georgie whined. "can we go?"

"fine," she said, huffing.

georgie grinned and started dragging you away, yelling out a "bye" over his shoulder.

you looked back and called, "bye, mrs. cooper! it was nice meeting you!"

᭝☆

as you and georgie walked to the park, he made it a point to always walk on the road side of the sidewalk. the two of you talked and talked, about school and work and movies and more, until you couldn't think of anything else to talk about. usually, you would've called into a comfortable silence, but today was different. it was too quiet, too tense. it was obvious there was something lingering between the two of you. as you walked, your hands kept brushing against each other, and you had to stop yourself from intertwining your hands.

the sun was setting as the two of you made it to the park, a slight chill settling into the air.

he sat down on the swing next to you, turning his head. light from the fading sun caught his eyes, turning their brown hue into a shimmering gold.

"so..." georgie started.

"so..." you replied, turning to look at him. your gaze flicked down to his lips and you looked away quickly. "that test in math was so hard. i definitely bombed it."

"right? i just put a/c/d/c for all the answer choices," georgie complained.

"like the band?" you laughed, toeing your shoe in the dirt under the swing.

"yeah, like the band," he chuckled. "either i put acdc or i just straight up didn't answer the questions."

you snorted. "im not surprised."

he put his hands up in defense. "hey, we already have a sheldon. don't need another smartass."

you rolled you eyes at your friend. "you could at least try," you said.

he hummed noncommittally in response. you could feel his gaze on you as he pushed his swing back and forth.

"i broke up with jana," he said suddenly.

"what?" you turned to look at him. he was still staring at you, the last of the sun's light casting shadows across the ground. "oh, georgie.. thats— i'm sorry," you offered as an attempt at comfort. you couldn't help the flutter in your heart.

"eh. 's alright. i'd been meaning to do it for a while, just... never found the opportunity."

"well..." the two of you spent a few moments in silence, trying to find the words to say. "i'm always here if you want to talk."

"thats... um, actually why i wanted to come here."

"oh?" you said, tearing your gaze away from him to push yourself on the swings. "why?"

"well, um. the reason i broke up with her is.." he paused, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts.

"you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," you said.

"no, i want to." he kissed his teeth, staring off into the distance.

"y'know how sometimes, you're with one person but you're thinking about someone else?" he asked.

"mhm..?" you said, an inkling of an idea seeping into your mind.

"everytime i was with jana, i was thinking of someone else," he admitted quietly.

"really?" you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and saw him nod. "who?"

he fell completely silent, digging the toe of his scuffed up sneakers into the dirt below him.

"you."

your heart stopped. you? you? this couldn't be happening. you had dreamed about this moment since the day you realized you had feelings for the brunette, but you had never thought he might feel the same.

"me?" you managed.

"you," he repeated. "y/n, you're the nicest girl i've ever met. you're funny, and sweet, and you're my best friend."

"you're also really damn pretty," he added.

"georgie.." the words you wanted to say were right on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't seem to push them out. "i- i don't-"

he stood up from the swing, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. "i get it if you don't feel the same. i just thought you should know," he mumbled, starting to walk away.

"georgie, wait," you said, quickly getting up from the swing. you tripped over a rock and stumbled forward, slamming into his chest. georgie's arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you from falling.

"yeah?" he breathed out.

"i- i lo-"

your words were cut off when his lips found their way onto yours. the world seemed to stop spinning as georgie kissed you. it was just you and him under a vast expanse of stars and sky. he kissed you like he had been waiting for it his whole life, like you were some goddess he was worshipping.

when you finally pulled away, panting slightly, he was smiling down at you. "i knew it," he grinned.

"oh, shut up," you groaned, swatting his arm.

he laughed, kissing you again.

"i've loved you since the day i met you, y/n," he said when he pulled away. "i just didn't know how to tell you."

[saturnsorbits]

Always a Groomsman

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warning: Angst (A Touch), Smut, Exhibitionism, Reader Smokes, Kaminari isn't a Hero Anymore, Brief Mention of Addiction etc. Word Counts: 5.4k.

Summary: A wedding, what a wonderful place to reunite with the one that fucked you and ran all those years ago.

The light is already dying by the time you finally manage to slip away from the reception and make a B-line to the back of the tent. Your feet are killing. The whiskey helps the pain, but even whiskey can't numb everything.

'Oi.' Bakugo catches your elbow, stopping you just short of freedom.

'Where are you going?'

'Need some air.'

Flicking up his eyebrows, he offers you a smirk that tells you he's not buying your bullshit. 'So it's got nothing to do with that then?' He hooks a thumb towards the dance floor and the drunken silhouette of Kaminari Denki He's curled himself around a bridesmaid, hand pinching the silk over her hip, lips hovering barely an inch above her neck as she threads her hand through his hair.

You chew your lip and lie. 'No.'

'C'mon... Just talk to him, you know you want to.' Bakugo's eyes widen suggestively.

'I think he's too pre-occupied to talk.' Something bubbles in your stomach as you watch Kaminari whisper in the woman's ear and you quietly shift your gaze so you don't see what happens next.

'You know he's only over there because he thinks you're mad at him, right?'

'I am mad at him.'

'It's been years.'

'He fucked me over, Kat...'

Bakugo's gaze hits the floor. It's not like he's forgotten what happened. 'I'm not taking his side but -.'

'No.' You raise your hands, palms flat in the air to stop him. You know what he's about to say. You've heard it all before. 'You've got guests to entertain and I am literally going to explode if I don't get some air in the next minute.'

Rolling his eyes, he plants a kiss on your cheek and uses his new proximity to whisper in your ear. 'He'd make a pretty groom, that's all I'm saying.'

'Oh, fuck off.' You manage to swat his shoulder only once before he's turned on his heel and returned to the mess of wedding guests that whoop and roar when he re-emerges into the fray.

The cold hits you as soon as you duck under the edge of the tent and step out onto the small deck. Instantly, you pull at your shoes and hiss as your feet are forced to straighten against the wooden floor. Before the throbbing in your soles has settled, you stagger off, limping towards the tall rail separating the deck from the field beyond.

It's a nice night, cold, but nice. In the sky, stars burn on a back-drop of navy, their blanket only broken by the soft, red blinking of the odd satellite or plane. The music from the tent floats out and lingers in the air, leaving you with enough space to actually think for a second.

You'd been overjoyed to watch Bakugo finally get hitched to Kirishima, but almost all of that excitement had died when you saw Kaminari. It had been almost ten years since the night he'd kissed you outside of UA, since you'd stumbled up the stairs to his dorm and let him be the first to touch you. He'd pretended as if it had never happened afterwards and you'd taken the hint.

A few months later, you'd moved south and he had stayed. He hadn't even shown up to your leaving party, despite both Sero and Kirishima telling you he'd be there.

But, all of that was in the past, or at least you'd thought it was until your eyes had grazed his as he stood beside the alter as Kirishima's best man and you'd felt a forgotten affection swell in your stomach. Sighing, you fiddle with your clutch bag and remove a half-full packet of cigarettes from within. You flip open the box, pluck one from inside and pop it in-between your lips before diving back into the clutch to search for a lighter. Rummaging for a second, you come up empty.

'Shit.'

'Need a light?'

The voice makes you shriek. You jump, stumble over your shoes and just about manage to catch yourself on the rail. Hand falling to your chest, you can feel the hammering of your heart through your skin.

'Am I that scary?' He snickers.

You squint, trying to make out his edges in the low light. Your eyebrows furrow, then lift as you focus on the man in front of you. He looks good, better than the last time you'd seen him: A scrawny shadow of himself pictured in a double page spread of a gossip magazine, something about heroism, drugs and a sex scandal printed in bright ink above it.

Flicking your eyes up to his, you're glad to see the spark has returned to his eyes. An old, but familiar shiver runs the length of your spine and suddenly, your stomach fills with motion. 'You... You look good.'

'Yeah?' He holds open his blazer, allowing you to get a full look as he slowly spins on the balls of his shoes and pinches at the skin of his stomach. 'Hero weekly says I'm chubby now.'

You're tempted to lie, to tell him that he's looked better, but you don't. 'No, you look good, healthy. It suits you.'

Something in Kaminari's chest stutters and he has to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth before he speaks again. 'Light?'

You pause. 'You don't mind?'

His face breaks into a smile, perfect and shining. 'Nah, don't even crave the things any more.' He misses out the bit about having enough nicotine patches on his chest and arms to stop a bull.

You concede. There's a comfort that comes back almost too easily, like the past finally catches up with you. It dampens the fire in your stomach, leaving you clutching at the anger that had grown inside of you since that night. You lean forward, letting him cup his hands around the end of your cigarette.

His hands shake when he tries to make a spark. It takes one, two, three times of his thumb coming down on the wheel before it finally catches a light and he can step back to a safer distance.

'It's still the same one, doesn't work as well now though.' He mumbles flicking the cap of the lighter. It's silver, with a chipped yellow lightning bolt painted on the front of it.

If you looked close enough, you're sure you'd be able to find the rough scratching of your entwined initials, engraved by his shaking hands at fifteen.

You breathe in, savour the burning of smoke as it infests your lungs and exhale. Turning, you rest against the rail and look back out over the field.

'So – you're -.'

'Sero said -.'

You both start up at the same time, the constriction of the silence around you forcing you both to attempt to fill it.

'You first -.'

'No, you – go on.' You encourage, arching an eyebrow.

Kaminari swallows. His heart thrums violently, threatening to deafen him, but he's just hoping that you can't see how bad his hands are shaking, how he can feel sweat beginning to bead his forehead. He's not an idiot. He knows how he left it, what you must think. As soon as Kirishima had asked him to be best man he’d felt his guts begin to twist and turn. The idea of seeing you again set his veins on fire. You cough and pull him back from the edge of his thoughts.

'I – uh...' He can't think. You're too close, too real and suddenly, his tongue seizes in his mouth.

Another beat of silence nestles its way into the conversation and you can't take it. You switch the conversation. 'Ei said you're going to work with Aizawa.'

He takes a deep breath and prepares himself to look at you, but it still doesn't stop the air being stolen from his lungs when he finally does. There's a flourish of nostalgia in his stomach and he swallows a grin. 'Yeah. He, uh, he sought me out. After all the – the, y'know, rehab and all that, he thought I'd be a good fit.'

'Yeah?' You raise your eyebrows. Kaminari's fall from grace had been far from undocumented. There had been barely a week that he hadn't appeared in some sort of magazine, his eyes dull and another questionable entourage in toe. Another one night stand, a model spotted having cocaine snorted off her tits; wherever there was chaos, Kaminari had followed.

'Yeah... We're, uhm, we're already working with a group of kids in UA. They got caught up in that villain attack down town. We do these workshops were we like pretend to be pro-hero's...'

Smiling, you raise your eyebrows. There's light in his voice, something you've missed and something you're keen to hold onto.

He snorts. 'No, I know, I know, but we pretend to be...' He shoots you a cheeky glance. '… Current... Pro-hero's doing interviews and talking about our experiences and stuff, y'know like it's miles away. Helps to sort it all out in your head, picture a future were it isn't all still hanging over you. There's this one kid, absolute firecracker... He stopped the whole fucking building collapsing before they could get everyone out, has a pretty nasty scar to thank for it too, but he does the most flawless impression of Bakugo it's almost scary.'

You bat at his arm instinctively and freeze as your hand wraps his bicep. For a second it's all too easy to forget you're not still teenagers clinging onto youth with both hands. 'That looks good on you too.'

'Huh?' He swallows before moving his hand to cover yours on his arm. His skin prickles when you don't pull away. It's hard to forget how it all ended. How he'd been too naïve to tell you how he felt, how he'd bit his tongue for months after he'd summoned the courage to finally kiss you and how he'd tried everything he could to run from the violent storm of emotions that had been released in his stomach that night.

It hadn't worked.

Avoiding you hadn't worked, neither had sleeping with other women or pretending it had never happened.

You lean into him, tightening your grip and the warmth of your skin reminds him that he's not the scared teenager he used to be.

'Helping kids, working with Aizawa...' You giggle, relaxing into his presence at last. 'It looks good on you. You light up when you talk about it... It's nice. Haven't seen you look like that since...' You chew your lip. 'Listen...' It's impossible to read him. His jaw is set, eyes facing forward as the cold begins to chap and redden his cheeks and you have to fight to push away the thought of how beautiful he still looks. 'I know you're only out here because Bakugo told you to be.' The accusation slips off your tongue too easily as the past rears it's head.

'I'm not – it's -.'

'You don't have to lie to me.' You offer him a broken smile, a truce of sorts.

'I really screwed up, didn't I?' He chuckles, letting smoke drift from his nose and mouth before turning to you.

'You did.'

There's a lapse in the conversation and he takes his chance. You're peering up at him, your eyes filled with the embers of something he hopes is affection and he dives in. 'Do you remember that night... Outside the school when... When, we -.' He feels stupid. The words lodge in his throat and refuse to move, forcing him to stop and haul in a breath. You'd think after all the talking therapy he'd be better at it by now.

He battles through, after all – he doesn't know when he'll get the chance to see you again.

If he doesn't do it now, he never will.

'When we slept together?' You sigh then tilt your head and finally give in, resting your head against his shoulder. Part of you wonders why he's brought it up, the other part isn't sure you care. Right now, you're just happy to bask in him. You've missed it: him. Even with the history between you. 'You don't have to apologise. I get it.'

'What do you mean?' Kaminari stammers.

'Well, It was a mistake, right?' It's a question disguised as a statement, but you don't give him time to answer before you're already trying to soften the blow yourself. 'We were young and people sleep together all the time, it's not a big deal. I just -.' You puff out your cheeks, finish your cigarette and drop it to the floor, letting Kaminari crush it with his dress shoe. 'I – I guess I just expected us to... It doesn't matter, you didn't want it and I respect that, just, it was just a hard pill to swallow, I think.

He takes another lungful of cold air, hoping the shock will calm him. It does, but only until he cranes his neck to look at you again. You're looking back up at him, your eyes wide and questioning, pupils blown out through darkness and alcohol. His gaze lingers on the soft pump of your lip and he's almost knocked over by the rush of memory that reminds him you used to taste like strawberries and smoke.

He wonders if you still do.

'It's not like that...'

You swallow. 'What was it like then?'

His voice is a whisper when he finally admits what he came out her to tell you. 'I was scared...' His thumb ghosts the back of your hand. 'I'm still scared.'

'Denki...'

'Yeah?' He's vaguely aware of the fact that he's unable to tear his eyes away from your face, but he's too caught up in the feel of you pressed to his side, where you belong, to care.

'Don't start saying things like that.'

'Why -.'

You lick at your back teeth, fighting annoyance. 'Not now. Especially not when there's a bridesmaid wondering where you've got to in there.' You hook a thumb back towards the tent.

'I'm not – we're not, we're not together or anything...' He's stumbling, making a mess as usual.

You roll your eyes. 'You don't have to lie.'

'I'm not lying.'

'I saw you all over her.'

'Dancing – we were -.'

Chewing at your lip, you sigh. 'It doesn't matter.'

'No.' He takes hold of your hand, squashes his own on top of yours and pins you as best as he can without forcing your fingers to entwine. 'It does.'

You swallow. 'Why now?'

'I – uh -.'

'Why not then?'

'I was scared.'

'You know...' You slip your hand from under his and fold your arms across your chest. 'It hurt when I realised that I was just another fuck for you, but it wasn't as bad as loosing a friend Denki – We were friends and you just fucking ghosted me. No explanation, no apology, you could have just fucking ignored it and I would have let things go back to normal, I would have just -.' You're crying, kind of. Tears well in your eyes, but you're refusing to let them fall. You've spent too many tears on him already and your make-up took almost an hour to do.

'I was a fucking idiot, I was scared and – and -.'

'I think I'm going to go...' You nod, swatting away his hand when he reaches for you. 'It was nice seeing you.' Turning, you're ready to make a short dash through the tent, ready to be as far away from the constricting air of the deck.

'No. Please. Please, don't go – not again, I just. Fuck.'

A hand wraps your wrist, pulling you back just enough that he can slip in front of you blocking your escape. 'Den - Kaminari.'

'Just let me, let me get this out. Okay.' He's pleading when he looks up at you, but he can't let you leave, not without at least trying. 'I was a fucking idiot. I was so scared that you'd hate me, that, that I'd be a bad boyfriend, or you'd move away and I wouldn't be enough, that I'd be too busy with work, or it'd be too much and I – I let that get the better of me. I was already falling apart, even back then and I didn't – I didn't want you to have to see it, to put up with it. You, fuck, you deserve so much and... That night...' He hauls in a breath. 'That night was one of the best nights of my life, not, not just the sex – just being with you and I – Well I did fuck it all up, didn't I... Look at the state of me - I couldn't, I couldn't have dragged you through all that.'

'Oi.' You fix him with a stare. 'Don't go blaming yourself, not for what you've been through - or how you've dealt with it. Never, okay... And for what it's worth, I would have gone to Hell and back if you'd asked.'

His jaw ticks, but when he turns to face you there's something almost thankful in the shine of his eyes. 'I'd never ask.'

You chuckle. 'I know. You wouldn't have had to. I've have done it anyway.'

He swallows.

You roll your lip between your teeth and bite down. 'So you liked me... Back then, I mean. When we – I wasn't just, just another girl that you...

'We both know I did.' He licks his lips. 'I was a fucking idiot, I -.' His eyes widen as he struggles to find a word to summarise the years that have elapsed between you and leaves him out on a limb.

'Do you still...'

He nods.

'And if, if it were to happen again, you'd want that?'

'More than anything.'

'And you wouldn't run away?'

'Only if I was chasing you.'

You smile, straighten and curl your body into his. 'Then...' You whisper. 'Kiss me.'

He does. Wrapping a hand around your neck, he lets his thumb rub at the softness behind your ear as your lips meet again for the first time in years.

Things go quickly from there...

It's overdue. A coming together that both of your bodies have longed for, for far too long. He kisses the same, with lips that are a touch too dry and a hunger no-one else has ever been able to match.

You have a mind to stop him, have a mind to stall his hands as they press to your chest and seek out the stiff peaks of your nipples, but you don't. Instead, you let yourself be overcome. Your hands find his belt. It's almost too easy to do, to unclasp the buckle and yank it clear of his suit pants. You cast it aside and are surprised when he doesn't seem to care where it lands.

He pushes you back, urging you further and further away from the wedding still raging inside and towards the scant privacy the deck can offer.

Although, it's more than obvious that neither of you care.

Each touch is electric. A build of emotion that had crystallised, now dissolving into your hands and dripping through your fingers. It's rough and needy, desperate, but more than that, it feels right.

'Here, quick.' You pull at the lapel of his suit jacket, yanking him impossibly closer.

He misreads the signs, twisting and turning as he attempts to wriggle from his jacket and slip it from his shoulders.

Tugging it back into place, you shake your head. 'No time, just...' You let your hand slide down his chest, feeling your way across the expanse of him before slipping your fingers into the waist of his suit pants. '… Come here.'

Kaminari moans as you make quick work of his pants, shoving them eagerly half way to his thigh. 'Don't need to tell me twice.' He chuckles, using what little air remains in his lungs to whine as your fingers graze over his hardening cock.

You tease for barely a second longer before taking hold of him and squeezing.

'Fuck.' His head rocks back on his shoulders, eyes rolling to the skies as he sinks into the feeling of having you again. 'I've missed you. Shit.'

You chuckle and lean in close, pressing your chest to his as you lick at the shell of his ear. 'Have you missed me or just my hand?'

Immediately, he pulls back. His hands wrap around your elbows as he holds you at arms length. He looks comical, with his pants clinging to the thin at the end of his thighs and his grey boxers almost dyed black, stained with pre-cum as his cock pulses in its confines, spilling more desperation onto the fabric. 'I really have missed you...'

Stooping to catch your eye, he raises his eyebrows and offers you a smile. 'You. Not the sex, not anything else. Yo -.'

You barely let him finish his sentence before you're breaking from his constriction and pressing back into him. 'I've missed you too...' Biting his lip, you ease the sting with a kiss. 'But, we really don't have a lot of time and I'm so fucking wet I -.'

He whines against your mouth. 'Can – Fuck, let me taste.'

'Maybe later.'

The idea of later makes his blood sing, but the sound of the party still raging inside quickly refocuses him on the task at hand. 'Think I can make you cum in five minutes?'

'Oh.' You squeak when his hand pinches at your ass. 'I fucking hope so.'

'Challenge accepted.' Grinning from ear to ear, Kaminari presses back until you bump against the wooden railing of the deck. His hands roam across your body, squeezing and nipping at everything he can reach. Reaching up, he takes hold of the strap before pausing. 'Can I?' Or will this rip?'

'It'll be fine... Just -' You push your chest out, helping as best you can as Kaminari pulls down the front of your dress to expose you to the air.

The cold air forces your nipples to pebble immediately, the lip of your dress forcing your breasts to sit high and pretty and in perfect reach of Kaminari's wondering hands.

He cups your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples until you squirm. If he had time, he'd savour this. He'd crane his neck, bow to your beauty and take one of those hardened rose buds into his mouth. He'd taste your skin, savour the salt and lick effortlessly over you until your cries became the background noise to his dreams. Licking his teeth, he looses himself to the feeling of you filling his hand. The fat of your tit spills through his fingers as he squeezes, earning another breathy gasp from you before turning his attention to other areas.

'Denki...' You're breathing heavy already, your chest heaving as Kaminari takes his pleasures feeling every inch of you. His hands sink, exploring. He pinches at your ribs, skates over your ribs and grips your hips before landing a firm smack against your ass. 'Denki, please... Fuck, c'mon, I need -.'

'Yeah?' His pupils have blown when he looks at you. Rings of gold struggle to keep them in check as hunger threatens to swallow them whole.

You nod, helping him yank up your dress until it's bunched up around your hips. Shivering against the cold, your knees knock together as a wave of vulnerability suddenly washes over you. You're freezing. The arousal trapped in your underwear cooling by the second, even as your cunt burns to be touched.

'Fuck...' Kaminari's hand sinks into your underwear the second it can. His fingers brush across trimmed pubic hair before petting, gently, at your clit.

You moan, bucking into his hand as he slips further and brushes his fingertips across your entrance. Bringing his hand back up, he presents his hand to you in the air. Your arousal shines on his skin, the glittering light from tent making it shimmer as he widens his fingers, leaving sticky strings to hang between index and forefinger.

He admires the shine. 'You're so fucking wet.'

Nodding, you reach for his wrist to pull it to your mouth – tasting yourself and cleaning his skin, but before you can, his tongue darts out of his mouth. He collects your slick like a delicacy and moans as your sweetness hits the back of his throat.

'Denki, I can't wait anymore... Please -.'

Kaminari wastes no time. In a moment, he has himself freed from his boxers, his cock hard and twitching against your stomach and your leg hooked lazily over his arm.

You tug aside your underwear yourself, exposing your cunt to him fully. There's no time to waste. Something primal eats away at your insides, something you're sure will only subside once he's seated inside of you. Your fingers itch, one hand playing with the strays hairs at the base of his neck as you look down and watch as he guides himself into you.

The initial push makes him hiss. You're tight. Tighter than he remembers as your walls wrap around him and clench. Locking his jaw, he hauls in a breath through his teeth and wills himself away from embarrassment.

Feeling him twitch helplessly inside of you, you grasp him by the lapel and pull him close until your nose touches his. 'Don't you dare. Not...' He gives you another inch, making you gasp and roll your hips. 'Not yet, don't fucking -.'

'Don't worry, baby. 'm not, not gonna.' Holding onto his sanity with his fingernails, Kaminari pulls back his hips and grinds back into you. The rhythm he sets up is uneven at best, but still, each thrust causes his cock to rub directly across the sponge roof of your cunt making you whine and cling.

Lips finding his neck, you litter him with lust. Your teeth find purchase, biting down to stifle the moans bubbling in your chest as he continues to fuck you, bottoming out each time in an effort to give you everything he has.

'You're gonna leave a mark.' He speaks through gasps, his pace stuttering as he continues to try and please you. The muscle in his thighs shake, his hands struggling not to clamp down on your waist as he pushes through the pulsing of his balls that threatens an early end.

You chuckle, revelling in the goose-flesh your breath leaves in its wake. It's intimate, setting a fire in your stomach as you pull back enough to catch his eye once more. You smile. 'What? Don't want your cheeky bridesmaid side piece to see?'

His pace falters. 'I don't.'

'Denki, baby... I'm joking.'

The pet name hatches butterflies in his sternum. They bump against the bone, tickling his organs and making him feel like he could float six feet from the floor. Not for the first time, he curses his own previous cowardice for stealing away all the pet names the past could have gifted him.

Bringing your foreheads together, you pant, breathing in each others air for a moment.

It's always felt like a cop out to call him 'The one that got away'. The title had never fit, no matter how much you'd wanted it to – or wished at one point and yet, right here, now, you wonder how you'd ever even brought yourself to think of him like that. 'Denki... Denks.' He hums, transfixed by a look he'd only been able to imagine in your eyes. 'What – what do you need. Tell me.'

You chew your lip, muttering. 'I'm never going to cum like this.'

'Ah.' His eyes light up, a shock of understanding zipping through him.

It might have been years, but he remembers every second of that night you spent together. He remembers you quaking, remembers how you'd looked on your hands and knees, thighs shaking as your spine curved deliciously, your ass bouncing as you rocked yourself back on his cock desperately. How could he forget?

Slipping out of you, he pulls back only enough to lay his hands on your waist and spin you.

You twist, dizzy and grab hold of the railing to steady yourself. Instantly, you're up on your tip-toes, back curved as you wait, pretty and presented. Anticipation lances through your legs making holding yourself up difficult, but it's all worth it when you feel him stretch you open and slide home.

Not giving you a second to adjust, he sets a blinding pace, spurred on by the memory of what it had felt like to have you fall apart around him. The fingers of his right hand dig into the flesh of your hip as the other slides up your back and takes hold of your neck. He grips, leaning over you to whisper, hoarse, in your ear. 'Touch yourself... Touch yourself for me, show me how good you feel, baby.'

You obey. Slipping a hand between your legs, you spread your fingers to feel him rutting into you for a moment. The skin of his cock is silk soft and slippery with your arousal, grazing the sides of your fingers as you shift and finally, begin to rub at your clit.

'Fuck...' Kaminari's grip on your hip stutters, growing light as he feels you tighten up around him. 'Go – Good girl. Shit. I'm not – not gonna last, I -.'

You don't need him too. In a few moments, you feel the telltale rush. Your cunt aches, clit pulsing as your orgasm threatens to reduce you to your knees. With your eyes rolling back into your head, you struggle to keep circling your clit, but Kaminari's fingers replace yours without you asking.

His movement is clumsy, but he manages to fuck you through your high either way. 'Holy, holy fuck... You feel, feels so – fucking Hell.' Stuttering, he struggles through, pouring his focus into you as you milk him relentlessly, bringing him closer and closer to his own end. With a tight chest, you reel back, glancing over your shoulder.

Kaminari's face is flushed, his cheek bones brushed with a pink that makes him look boyish and young. The edge of his mouth is twisted, a cause of his teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek and his jaw is clenched, bringing out the cut line of his jaw.

He's close. You can tell. The thought thrills you, your cunt tightening on impulse as you await your prize.

'Where, fuck, fuck... I can't cum on your dress, you're – you're gonna have to move, or, or -.'

Reaching back, you grab at the edge of his suit jacket and pull at him, forcing his hips against your ass. 'Inside.'

He doesn't get a chance to think, his body makes the decision for him. His balls tighten, pulsing as he cums, emptying himself inside of you. Curling over, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, teeth scraping against the exposed skin as he pours himself into you, pumping you full.

With your stomach full and his lips grazing the base of your neck, you relax into a bone-deep kind of satiation you'd not felt since that night. It's surreal. Absurd as you come crashing back to reality as realise that the party has begun to quieten inside of the tent.

He's still dripping out of you when you hear the high pitched whistle cut through the air.

Kamiari turns. Tearing his suit jacket from his shoulders, he drapes it over your hips, covering his own mess.

'You two made up then?' Sero's smile is blinding. His hands are dug into his pockets, thumbs poking out over the material as he shrugs himself into his shoulders. He's plastered, his hair mattered and a mess as it falls from its bun, but even the alcohol making him stagger doesn't put a stop to his mischief.

Kaminari panics. His voice is still breathless, shaking slightly from the force of the orgasm that had almost had him seeing static. He should have made you cum quicker, shouldn't have slowed down the way he did. Fuck, he should have asked you to come back to his hotel. You deserve better than a quick, forgive me fuck outside of a tent in almost freezing temperature. He curses himself and cringes. 'How long have you been stood there?'

'Long enough to be pitching a tent, you guys don't fuck around huh...' He chuckles to himself. 'Well, I guess you do but -.'

Struggling with your dress, you can't help the smile that breaks your lips when Kaminari shields you and helps get your tits situated and hidden once more. Stepping from behind him, you slide a hand down his arm and twist your fingers in his. Hoping this time he won't run away. 'What do you want Hanta? We're just about to get out of here.'

Even if you had been trying to miss the smile that brightens Kaminari's face, you wouldn't have been able to. He re-adjusts his jacket, now slung over your shoulders and squeezes your hand tight.

Sero chuffs. Still too drunk to know better. 'When I first came out here I just wanted to smoke, but now I'm thinking of asking to watch.'

Reaching down, you pluck one of your heels from the floor before turning and throwing it headlong at Sero's head.

He ducks, laughing as the shoe goes wide. 'That a maybe then?'

'Hanta...' Kaminari whines, but Sero is already backing away holding his hands up in a mock surrender.

'Woah, woah...' A cheeky smile tugs at his lip, bringing his left dimple out in a way that only happens when there's real mischief up his sleeve. 'I guess now would be a bad time to tell you that the lights out here cause a pretty solid shadow to be cast on the side of that tent then, huh?'

The colour drains from both of your faces. 'No...'

Sero's eyes shine as he reaches into his pocket and removes his phone. 'I've got a video of it if you don't believe me...'

-> Masterlist

[luveline]

steve!! i miss him too :( what about a cute kbd christmas fic?

kbd —the harrington's start preparing for christmas. mom!reader, 2k

When you get home to absolute silence, you assume your kids have been abducted and your husband murdered. When you find the laundry baskets have been moved off of the stairs and the mountain of little shoes by the door has been lined up neatly, you guess the killers must've cleaned after it happened. 

You forget the stiffness of your back and pinched toes. Arms full of grocery bags, you shoulder into the living room with your tongue between your teeth. “Oh,” you say, breathing out, “good. You're alive.” 

Your girls are sitting in a wavy row. Avery lays with a long leg hanging over one couch arm, littlest Wren by her side swaddled and propped with pillows. Dove sits at Wren's other side with her rainbow Teddy bear in her lap. Bethie, precious sweetheart, is sleeping smushed against the opposite armrest with Steve's sweatshirt over her lap.

“Hey, honeys,” you say quietly, so as not to disrupt their mild moods, “everyone okay?” 

“Yeah, mom,” Avery says without looking away from the TV. 

“What about you, Dove? You okay?” 

“Yis,” she says shortly. 

You turn to the TV, confused. What could be interesting enough to hook them both? Even Wren seems to be watching the TV, her tiny face demure. 

“What's this?” you ask, squinting, before a familiar white beagle takes to the screen. “Oh, it's A Charlie Brown Christmas!” 

“Mommy, can you please be bit quieter, please?” Dove asks. 

You snort and hurry past them to the kitchen. The smell of homemade cinnamon rolls envelopes you, the heat of the oven warming your wind-nipped nose. “Hey,” you say, though you can't actually see your husband anywhere. 

He pops up from behind the kitchen table with water dripping down one wrist, a rag in hand. “Hey!” he says, ditching the rag in a bowl of suds, quick to wipe his hands dry on his chest and stand. “I didn't hear you. You forget how to yell?” 

“And disturb the peace?” You sigh in relief as he takes the heavier bag from your wrist to push onto the clean countertop. “Thanks.” He takes the other bags. “Thanks, baby.” 

“Y'welcome,” he says easily. He looks like he's had a long day in that his shirt is wet in four different places and in three different colours, but he looks happy, cheeks a red hue and almond eyes creased with a familiar fondness. 

Steve's pretty much always happy to see you. You lay claim to at least two of his smile lines, and you love to feel them with your fingers to affirm that they're really there, he's really happy, in this life you made together. (An exhausting, lovely life.) You raise your hand to his cheek and cover one such wrinkle with your fingertips, tilting his face into one palm. “You've been busy today,” you say gently.  

“So busy. All the bedrooms, the bathrooms. Soon as I wipe down the baseboards in here, I'm done.” 

“Want me to do it?” 

“No way. You'll take all my glory.” He presses his smile into a flat line, though the love stays behind in his eyes. 

“I'm gonna look at everything just as soon as I put the groceries away, I can't believe it,” you say, kissing him chastely, then the corner of his mouth before pulling away. The soft brush of his lips lingers on yours, but nothing feels as good as the way he looks at you. “You didn't have to do it all, baby, I would've helped.” 

“Christmas will be here before we know it,” he says with an unbothered shrug. “It creeps up on us every year. I figured I better get the jump on it if I was gonna get it done, but then they've all been so weirdly well behaved. Dove hasn't cried once.” 

“Bethie's sleeping, you know?” 

He takes your arm before you can turn away and works you into a hug. 

“I know,” he says, cupping the back of your head. “Was Wren alright?” 

“Best big sister is looking after her.” 

“God, we don't deserve her. She's not stressed, is she?” 

Avery loves being a big sister, but you're both wary of how she might feel responsible for things she shouldn't have to be responsible for. “She looked fine. They were watching TV.” 

Steve gives you a steady, soft squeeze. You press your nose down into his shoulder with your arms curled around him to breathe him in. He smells of disinfectant, the sugary Christmas one that the girls can't get enough of. Avery begs him to spray down the bath before she gets in so it'll smell nice, and every time he promises her he'll buy her a bottle of bubble bath, but a little disinfectant isn't bad for her, anyways. From over Steve's shoulder you can see he's used it well, every surface sparkling clean, no corner or speck of grime left to survive. 

You kiss his shoulder. “You really didn't have to, Stevie, but thank you. It's amazing in here.” 

He hums into the side of your head. “I love you.” 

You totally, totally get it. You'd clean a hundred houses for him, even with four girls badgering you as you go. 

“Love you too. You finish the baseboards, I'll put the groceries away, and we'll sit down before they realise they're being well-behaved.” 

Steve likes your plan, leaving you with a last little squeeze to get done cleaning. You sort through what's in the fridge, throwing away stuff past due, noting on the whiteboard stuck to the fridge what's about to go bad soon, as well as the dates for the meat. What you've bought today should last for at least two weeks, but it never really does. 

You keep some of the Christmas goodies on the counter and hide the rest away atop the cabinets out of sight. 

Avery runs in as you're taking off your shoes. “Mom, Bethie's crying about something.” 

“Oh no. Thanks, babe, I'll be right there.” 

You sneak a peek at Steve before you go. His brow furrowed in concentration, the muscle of his upper arm tenses and releases with every scrub of the baseboard. It's… Well, you married well. 

Beth cries on the couch, she and Dove pulling at the same dark blob of material while Wren looks on in quiet confusion. She's too small to sit, laid on her back, but she's started turning her head, following people and their movements, and when she sees you, she smiles. It's a very Steve-like expression. 

“Hello,” you say, picking her up carefully, kissing her little head. “Let's get you out of the splash zone, sweetheart.” 

“Mom, she took daddy's hoodie!” 

“I want it!” 

“What if I go get another one of daddy's hoodies?” you ask, attempting a swift defusing. “How's that? We can all have one.” 

“I want this one,” Beth insists. 

“I want it,” Dove says, glaring at her older sister. 

Bethie is a gentle soul that won't pull it out of Dove's hands, even when she maybe should. She cries and balls her hands into the fabric to stop from losing it completely, sending you a desperate frown, “Mom, please, I had it first.” 

“Yes you did, honey. Dove.” You look her straight in her little face, knowing this won't end well. “Bethie had it first, okay? You can have it later, but until then, I can go get you one for yourself.” 

Dove hates that. Wren hates that Dove hates it, and everybody starts crying. Avery didn't follow you out of the kitchen, likely kept behind by Steve to save her from the coming massacre, but she'd probably start crying too from the sheer overwhelming volume. 

Can't have everything, you think. 

“Dove, don't make me call daddy in here. Take your hands off of daddy's sweatshirt. Now, please.” 

Dove shrieks and lets go of it, throwing herself down off of the couch to cry into the beanbag instead. She kicks her legs, and Beth looks shocked at the outcome, any victory overwritten by guilt. She climbs off of the couch with her arm already held out to give Dove the sweater, but you stop her. 

“That's yours, baby, you keep it. Daddy gave that to you.” 

“I'm not being a good sharer,” Bethie says. 

“There's enough to go around,” you promise her. Dove's just showing off ‘cos you've said no, not because there's something special about that sweatshirt. Sure, it has a reindeer on the chest, but Steve has tens of Christmas sweatshirts. 

You get to a point as a parent where the crying becomes white noise, and you can manage one at a time or none at all. Bethie nods, and you lean down to give her tearstained cheek a kiss before turning to Dove with Wren grizzling in your arms. She can't decide if she's upset or not, it seems. 

“Dovey, don't be angry at me, please? Let's go get you another one. Okay? You could even have one of mommy's, if you wanted.” 

Not good enough. She cries and cries and cries until Steve enters the room, his confusion dramatised as he holds out his hands to her. “Dove! What's wrong, sweetheart?” 

“Mom won't– mommy won't–” She sobs. “I want that one.” 

“Mommy's just doing what I asked her to,” Steve says, bending down at the waist to meet her eyes. “So be mad at me, okay? Mommy didn't do it, I told her that that one's for Beth. How about we go and get you another one?” 

Dove immediately takes his hand, appeased now she has someone on her side. You flop down on the couch as they walk away together with one last child to soothe. Wren goes down easy. All she wants is some shushing and back patting. 

“Is it over?” Avery asks, tiptoeing back into the room. 

You laugh. “Yeah, it's over. Sorry.” 

“I'm sorry for hiding,” she says. 

“There's nothing wrong with sitting somewhere quiet when things are too loud, bub. You gonna come and finish your movie? We can get dad to rewind it for us.” You hold out an arm. She sits in front of it with a smile like she's been given the world. 

You really don't deserve your girl. 

Steve and Dove return changed. Steve's in clean pyjamas with wet cheeks, Dove drowned in one of Steve's snowman sweaters. He rewinds the movie without being asked, and he squeezes in beside Avery, and everyone lets out a simultaneous sigh of relief. 

He finds your shoulder across the back of the couch, feeling along it like he knows every curve and divot. It doesn't take long for you to settle in and relax, soothed as the girls had been by a touch of comfort. Your attention flickers between his peaceful face and the baby as she snores on your chest. 

“Snoopy is sooooo bad,” Bethie whispers happily, looking to her big sister for an agreement.  

“He's mischievous,” Avery says. 

“That's a big word,” you say, “where'd you learn that one, honey?” 

Steve pats your arm. He doesn't say anything, just lets you know he's there with you. 

“We're reading a book about Santa at school and they said all the mischievous kids end up on the naughty list.” 

“That's not necessarily true.” You kiss her forehead. “You girls are mischievous, but you're still good girls.” 

“I'm not mist-jiv-us,” Beth denies. 

“You're the most mist-jiv-us,” Steve says, “I know what you're up to, Bethie bear. I always know.”

“I'm not up to anything!” she denies, giggling at his accusatory tone. 

“I am naughty,” Dove says. 

You and Steve laugh at the same time. “Only a little,” Steve says. 

“A lot!” Avery says. 

Dove just laughs and lays back against Steve's chest. Avery languishes between you and Steve like a princess, propping her leg over your thigh, and Beth snuggles into your arm. You breathe in the smell of Wren's hair, totally relaxed in the squeaky clean depths of the living room, your family finally in one place. 

Steve deserves a great, huge, heaping thank you, but you don't have anything to give him. You turn to him over Avery's head, trying to think of what to say to him to express how grateful you are for all that effort and love, years of it, but when he meets your eyes you know he already knows what you want to say. 

“Can we pretend there's mistletoe or something?” he asks, looking down to your lips, his own pursed into a longing pout. 

“Yeah, Stevie,” you say, lifting your chin invitingly. “Wow, look, there's mistletoe! You know what that means.” 

You can feel the shape of his smile when he kisses you, and though he keeps it short and sweet, that evening his hand stays on your arm for hours drawing hearts between iterations of your name, one loving letter at a time.  

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Old Scars, New Blood 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: Reader has accepted that she'll never be wanted, not only by the man she's crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: I could blame yall for talking me into it but we know it's all my fault.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The sharp zip cuts through the air. Lloyd hauls the long black bag up and checks his watch. He struts over to you and shoves the heavy luggage at you, letting it go before you can wrap your arms around it. You nearly topple from the weight.

You grunt and hug it tightly, the long duffle isn't exactly a vacation's worth Hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts. You can feel the long metal barrels as cases of ammo dig into your arms. You manage to get a hand on the handle and swing it after several tries onto your shoulder.

He's already halfway out the door. You trail after him, nearly stumbling to keep up. He's so tall you often find yourself running after him like a stray dog. So tall and handsome and--

Shut up! That's not what you should be thinking about.

Your phone vibrates and you struggle to pull it out of your pocket. You sigh as Lloyd continues along without notice, whistling casually as he approaches the stairs. Shit.

As he begins down the stairs, you stop at the top, leaning with the pull of the bag. You try to reply to the text as he makes quick progress to the bottom. 

He whistles up at you and snaps his fingers. You pop your head up and amble down the steps, barely catching yourself against the railing as you slip. When you get to the bottom, he's standing at the door, huffing impatiently.

"What's goin' on, kid?"

Kid. That's what he's always called you. Even though you're not that much younger than him. It's never sweetheart or honey like the pretty ones. Just kid.

"Plane's delayed. There's headwinds--"

"Christ's sake," he snarls.

"Sorry, sir, the pilot's trying--"

"Boring," he chops his hand through the air to silence you, "let's go."

He stands by the closed doors. You try not to let his impatience bother you. You can't blame him. He has an important mission. There's no time to be waiting on a cloud cover.

You open the right door and he steps through, tramping down the stone stairs to the mosaic walkway. Once more you're on your toes as you scurry after him. You watch how his jacket stretches between his shoulder blades. His sleeves hug his arm tightly, showing off his hard work and muscle. You shake your head, stop. Ten years. You know better.

You're out of breath as you get the idling car. Jackson, the driver nods but is similarly ignored as he opens the door for Lloyd. You go to the trunk as it pops and you put the gun bag inside.

You get in the other side as Lloyd splays his legs out and unlocks his phone with his thumb. You keep your cell clutched tight and tap it nervously. He doesn't handle roadblocks well, he's the type to demand and get. Something he hired you to make sure of.

"Well, extra time, I guess," he mutters as he swipes across the screen.

The car rolls up the long drive as you check your messages again. Still no updates. You cross one leg over the other as Lloyd's loafer nearly touches your oxford shoe.

"Hmmmm, can't decide on this one," he grumbles and tilts his screen toward you, "what do you think, kid?" He wiggles it at you as you look at the woman on the screen, "tits are nice but the tattoo screams Hep C."

You nearly gasp but just raise your eyebrows instead. He's always looking for a reaction. Your cheeks set alight and you twiddle your fingers around your own phone.

"Well, sir, I… she's pretty."

"Relax, you won't be invited to threesome," he scoffs and leans back, swiping left, "that's what this is for. Variety."

You don't say a word as you bring your hand to the side of your neck, feeling the heat of your skin. It's not just that it's him saying it, it's that gnawing feeling of inadequacy. The mystery of the unknown makes you self-conscious and wary of saying the wrong thing. The same way when you talk to your sister and she tells you about her husband. Well, you don't hear from her much these days.

"I'll send you their info. You can make a few calls before we get back," he snickers, "get everything ready for me."

"Uh, sure, sir, but uh… like I said before, that's not exactly part of my job."

"Don't tell me what your job is," he barks as he blacks his phone, "goddamn, you're always such a tight ass. Usually I'm all for a tight hole but you really know how to squeeze a man by his balls."

"I'm sorry, sir–"

"Another fucking 'sorry, sir' and I'm gonna snap. I can't do eight hours on a flight with you pouting like that."

"Understood, won't happen again," you dip your head down, "sorry, s–"

You clap your hand over your mouth. The words are so habitual they start to fall out before you realise, and yet another urge to say them. Just stop talking. You peek at Lloyd with wide eyes and drop your hand.

"You're a fucking downer, kid," he sits forward, "Jackie, pull the fuck over."

"Yes, sir," the driver replies from the little speaker under the barrier between the front and back seat. "You, get the fuck out."

You're surprised by his sudden flare of anger. There's not much about him that truly shocks you anymore but as irritable as he can be, this is unusual. His agitation has boiled to molten hot in a matter of minutes.

"Sir?"

"You can walk back and start getting shit ready. I mean, we'll see if you can since you can't get the goddamn plane on the ground," he growls as the car pulls onto the gravel wing of the road. "You're getting fucking soft, kid."

"Sir, I didn't–"

"You did. You fucking killed my boner so get out," he shoos you with his finger and unlocks his phone again, "buh bye."

You hesitate. You slowly move to the door and let yourself out. You're buzzing in disbelief. He can be a jerk, you're used to that, but this all seems so abrupt. You can only assume there's something else bothering him.

You shut the door as you stand on the side of the road. You hear Lloyd's deep timbre muffled inside the car before it pulls away. You stare after it, crossing your arms as you sniff and the sun glares along the edge of your vision.

You slowly turn and face the horizon. You're not that far. Maybe twenty minutes. Well, the single silver lining. You can't help your disappointment. You look forward to missions. It's an excuse to be with Lloyd. A reason for him to put up with you.

You set off, trodding along without urgency. There's nothing at the compound for you. It's not like you go on every mission but it's the unexpected change that gets you. More so, his temper. You see it aimed at others more than yourself.

Your phone buzzes again. The plane's landed. That's good news. As you continue your trek, you dial out to Lloyd's phone and put the speaker to your ear. No answer. Several more tries have a similar result, the last call clicking dead right away.

You send a text and it bounces back as undeliverable. You don't get it, your signal is strong. It's a military grade phone. You slide your phone away and try not to let your anxiety get the best of you.

He wouldn't block your number, would he? 

You're not special, that much is clear, but you've stuck around so long that you just can't see it ending over one slip-up. Sure, Lloyd has screamed agents out of the compound, he's even stranded them in hostile grounds, but they weren't there as long as you've been.

You drag your feet as you approach the gate. You let yourself in with the code and ignore the gazes of agents as you cross the yard and go back inside.

All this and for what?

If Lloyd fires you, you've spent ten years pent up in places like this, doing his grunt work. The tail end of your twenties and much of your thirties traded for imagined cues and empty hopes. You accepted long ago that Lloyd would never see you, just the woman he called 'kid', but the thought of losing even that makes you want to cry. You can accept that you're not as good as the models he fucks around with, but you can't accept not being there at all.

You're overreacting. You always do this. It's always the end of the world.

Lloyd will come back and everything will go back to normal. You're the only one who gets his coffee right and knows that he hates mushrooms but loves Salisbury steak. He needs you, just not like you want him to.

❤️‍🩹

Radio silence. You don't hear from him and any message you try to send is unanswered. He's on a mission, he's in blackout mode, yet you can't help but be paranoid.

Without him to order you around, you're not quite sure what to do with yourself. It's sad but that's just who you are. You're not the one doing, you're the one listening to those who do. 

The first day is the worst of it. On the second, you're not as addled and a bit relieved not to be hidden in some safe house waiting for a signal or listening to Lloyd make sick jokes. Still, you'd rather be with him.

The second night, you expect some sort of word from him. Still nothing. 

You lay in bed, restless. You don't dream about him anymore, you don't close your eyes and think about what it'd be like to be beautiful or interesting, you know it will never happen. But you worry about him. That you'll never be rid of.

The third morning, a Saturday, you go down to make your coffee. Other agents mill about as the tech crew speak into their headsets and type furiously. Something’s going on.

You near the doorway and listen in, trying to discern the chaos. There's cams to switch cameras and directions given, coordinates read out and warnings about oncoming targets. It's the usual, the same chatter you listen to over the comms when Lloyd's out in the field. Now you can only hear one side.

As the tempo builds, there's another furor. The chime that signals the censor at the front gate. Rico storms out of comms central as you flatten yourself to the wall and wait to trail him until he's past the stairs.

"What the fuck is going on?" He waves an agent in black close, "who the fuck is here?"

The agent puts his fingers to his earpiece, "we have sights."

"I asked who it was, not if you can make a shot," Rico shoves the man and stomps to the front doors, shoving them open before him. "Tell them to go the fuck away."

An agent runs up the driveway, puffing as he holds his gun securely in front of him. He stops as Rico gets to the bottom of the stairs 

"Sir, sir, it's… it's Valhalla."

"Val-what?" Rico snips.

"Valhalla!" The man repeats louder.

"Shit. Fuck." Rico continues in a rampant flurry of Spanish, "they're early."

"Sir," the agent bows his head as another appears before him.

You frown and watch from the doorway, trying to stay out of sight as you eavesdrop. 

Hm. Valhalla. You know the name, rather well, but only through correspondence. A code name. For a faceless man and his deep pockets. You hadn't heard it recently though. You thought that whole thing fizzled out.

"Fuck, Hansen, take your fucking time," Rico mutters between his Spanish diatribes, "let them in. Full search." You hear him clop back up the stairs before he blusters inside, "I need men. Now!"

He turns and sees you cradling your coffee with a dumb look. He sneers and rolls his eyes, "perfect. You'll do. We need rooms. We have guests."

"What?" You squint. 

"You're a woman, you should know how to make them at home."

"You're not my boss," you grimace and drink your coffee.

"Don't get smart with me just because that idiot keeps sniffing at his heels. Go and do something useful for once," he claps at you.

You don't move. You take orders from one person. Otherwise, you stay out of the way.

"Fuck!" He hollers and twists on his heel again.

He marches into the next room and you slowly near the front doors, still ajar as they gape out at the golden day. You come outside and descend the steps, standing just by the plinthed flower vase at the bottom. You watch the gates roll apart, letting in the convoy lined outside.

There are four cars in total. All ivory and gleaming. They hardly seem like military vehicles.

You don't get it. You pull out your phone and scroll through your emails. The last message you got from Valhalla was months ago and it left you at a stalemate between them and your indomitable boss.

The first car pulls up and stops, the other fanning out behind it. Agents circle, keeping a broad perimeter as they watch with similar intrigue. Rico appears again, muttering to himself as he holsters a gun.

You look back to the grated bumper of the luxury SUV. The engine rolls over as you find yourself holding your breath. This is it, the vaunted Valhalla. You keep your mug close to your chest as the car door opens and your jaw nearly hits the floor.

It's a man more gorgeous than anyone you've ever seen before. Well, maybe not everyone but damn close. His golden hair is braided down his back and a few wavy strands hang loose around his face. His sky blue eyes shine in the sunlight as he smiles, the expression lining his face immaculately. You gulp and force your mouth shut.

There's a brief lull before anyone reacts. Rico is the first to snap into action. He clamours down and offers a hand, "Valhalla, hello, Rico. Hansen is in the field but I will be your host."

"Ah, Rico," Valhalla repeats with a keen lilt, "you'll do for the time being."

His blue eyes scan the facade of the compound. It appears nothing more than a remote and overpriced mansion. The man takes a deep breath as if tasting the air and pauses as his gaze falls upon you. His brows twitch but he does not react otherwise.

He turns back to Rico and claps his back, "well, we traveled far, we require food and sleep and if you can spare it, lots of alcohol."

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎThe Ocean౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: academic rivals to lovers, mentions of drowning, misogyny pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader summary: coriolanus snow and you have been competing for the academy's top spot for a long time, and when you're paired up for a group project, he's certain it'll be disastrous. but when he finds he misjudged his pretty rival, he wonders if he ever hated you at all. author’s note: this one's been bouncing around in my head for a long time, hope you like it! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

There is nothing Coriolanus Snow despised more than group projects.

He much preferred to work solo, unburdened by another person's input. Being by himself, working on an assignment in a way he knew would get him a good grade was pure bliss.

But Professor Cicero just had to assign partners.

And she just had to pair him up with you.

He despised you, with your rich, high up family and your charm and your effortless good grades. You and him had been vying for the top spot in your class for years. It was infuriating how perfect you were, how everyone seemed to love you.

Now, sitting at your desk in the grand house you occupied with your aunt, he decided to grit his teeth and get through it. You were lying on your back on your bed, head hanging over the edge, hair touching the floor the guidelines for the project: an oral presentation and individual essays on the importance of the Hunger Games.

You were in a pretty little white sundress and he was still in his Academy uniform, not having had the time to go home and change. Another reason to be infuriated at you- the luxuries you had that he did not.

"Are you going to take this seriously?" Coriolanus huffed, crossing his arms as he watched you read. Your relaxed demeanor annoyed him- this project was important.

"Just give me a minute," you said, not taking your eyes off the paper. "I want to make sure I understand this correctly."

"What is there to understand?" He looked down at his shoes, impatiently waiting for you do be done. "It seemed straightforward to me."

"Okay, okay," you laughed a little, rolling over onto your stomach and setting the paper to the side, your eyes fixed on him now. "Since you've clearly been thinking about it for awhile, what do you think we should be writing about?"

He sat up straight in his chair. Finally, he'd be able to take charge. "The Games' purpose is to punish the districts for the actions of the rebels. We should spend the bulk of the assignment talking about that."

You bit your lip, eyes cast to the side as you thought about it, nodding. "...Yeah. Yeah that's good."

Coriolanus recognized your slight skepticism, and he scowled lightly. "What, that isn't good enough for you?"

"No, no it's good!" you clarified, smiling a little and nodding quickly to punctuate. "It's just...it's a little textbook, don't you think?"

He stared at you for a moment, astonished that you'd dared to contradict him. He'd never had a partner call him out on any of his ideas before, but then again he'd never been paired up with you.

The worst part of it all was that you looked so innocent, looking up at him with those big doe eyes. The earnestness of your expression caught him off guard.

Coriolanus gave you a sharp look. "And did you have a better idea?"

You tilted your head to the side, looking away for a moment as you thought. "Well, if we want to get a good grade, we need to play to Professor Cicero's interests. And one thing I know for sure about her is how much she enjoys perspectives that are a little bit twisted."

"I've just done that with my idea," Coriolanus argued, annoyance building up. "The idea of punishment is one she touches on a lot in her lectures."

"But it's overused," you said calmly. "I'd bet every other group is going to do the same thing."

"Because it's literally the point of the Games," Coriolanus sighed, rubbing his temple. He could feel a headache coming on.

"We don't have to word it like that though," you said, sitting up fully, your knees tucked underneath you.

"So what do you suggest we do?" he asked sarcastically. He was prepared to scoff at whatever your better, more complex idea was.

You were quiet for a minute, and he could practically hear you thinking. Then you fixed your bright blue stare back on him. "I say we talk about how the Games benefit the Capitol, particularly the government. It's like you said, they're to punish the districts, but how exactly?"

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow, not admitting he was a little intrigued.

"The Games strip away the tributes' humanity," you continued, leaning back on your hands. "They show the most raw, primal form of human being. The Capitol does that on purpose. It's meant to show everyone watching what they would be without the government. Hungry, helpless murderers. And it scares the districts into submission, whether they realize it or not. It's basic socio-political ethics, really."

...

He was floored. All this had come from you? And you'd said it so casually, so thoughtfully that it'd come off as modest. He was still staring at you, but now it was for a different reason. Coriolanus was in awe.

Of course he'd always known you were smart, but he didn't know you were this smart. This wasn't regurgitated notes or passages, this was a true, thought out idea.

"Coriolanus?" you tilted your head, moving so your legs were hanging over the side of the bed. "Are you okay?"

He'd been in a daze, but he snapped out of it. "I'm fine."

"What do you think?" You almost looked nervous. It was almost laughable to him that you were worried your brilliant idea would fall flat with him. It was cute, really.

He cursed himself for thinking that last part.

"It's good," he said, keeping his tone even. "Let's use it."

"Really?" A smile broke across your face like the sun breaking through the clouds, and he couldn't help the corners of his mouth quirking up slightly at how happy you seemed that he'd liked it.

"Really," he nodded, squashing the smile away. "It's...it's good."

You bounced a little in your seat, and there was another thing he couldn't help- how adorable he found you.

Suddenly he was noticing all sorts of things about you. The way your hair fell like a curtain on your cheeks when you leaned forward. Your white dress hem riding up centimeters on your smooth thighs, making your legs look long and slender.

Now he was imagining how they would feel wrapped around him. And now he was angry at himself.

"Right. Should we start writing the essay portion?" Coriolanus cleared his throat and asked.

"Sure," you said, reaching for your notebook and pen. His eyes lingered on you a little longer before he turned to face the desk and started to write.

The entire time he was distracted. His opinions were unraveling and reforming into different things. He'd thought you pretentious, but you were clever. And now he was wondering if the rivalry between the two of you was ever even a rivalry at all. Now that he thought about it, you'd certainly never treated him like it was. Your naturally sweet personality had held true during every interaction you'd had with him.

So it hadn't been a rivalry, he realized. Only petty jealousy on his part. And now that he thought about it, attraction.

Coriolanus' paper was becoming increasingly un-well written as he couldn't take his mind off you. His word usage was sloppy, and his thoughts were hardly articulate. Oh well, he thought. It was still better than what some of his borderline illiterate classmates would turn in.

He heard you sit up, and your soft footsteps came up behind him. He could smell your perfume, a familiar scent he'd never found arousing before.

"Are you almost done?" you asked sweetly.

"Ah, yes. Yes I'm finished," Coriolanus said, hurriedly sitting up and shuffling his papers.

You leaned against the desk and he looked at you, finding you angelic as you bit your lip. "Will you read mine? I want to make sure it's good enough."

He nodded, the scent of you putting his head in a spin. He couldn't have said no to you even if he'd wanted to.

You handed the paper over to him, and he read it, his mind able to think clearly when he was reading your words.

It was incredible. No other word for it. The way you wrote was poetic, but it also held the hand of logic, keeping the topic (your brilliant idea) the main focus. It was an essay for artists. Normally he'd find it ridiculous but there was something about knowing you'd written it that made it perfect.

Coriolanus didn't want to articulate this to you, so he simply handed the paper back to you. "It's...it's good."

His words were simple, but she smiled even wider. "You think so?"

"Of course," he said, lips twitching again. "You're a talented writer."

He was itching to be the cause of that smile, and it worked. You lit up immediately. "Thank you Coriolanus."

You stood up straight, but he didn't want you to leave his side. "Will you read mine?"

Nodding eagerly, you took the papers from in front of him. He semi-regretted the decision to ask you to read it because this paper was not his best work, but he figured it would be fine.

Your face was serene as you read, the little smile you'd acquired not leaving. Shifting where you were standing, you absentmindedly shifted toward him, and before he knew it you were in his lap, sitting across his thighs.

His breath hitched, but you didn't notice, continuing your reading. You shifted comfortably in his lap, and looked up at him as you finished the paper, smiling. It seemed to him all you ever did was smile, and he didn't mind it one bit.

"I like it," you said honestly, searching his eyes. "Professor Cicero will definitely love it."

"I don't know about that," Coriolanus laughed lightly.

"She likes everything you do," you smiled again, nudging his shoulder. "It's me she has a problem with."

"That's not true," he said automatically, but as he thought about it, he knew it was. Professor Cicero's favoritism of him was one of the ways he'd been able to feel triumph over her over the years. Here was the one teacher who hadn't fallen for her charm. But now he mourned it.

"She doesn't like anything I do," you shrugged. "But maybe with you as my partner she will." That last hint of optimism seemed to cheer you up a bit. You got off his lap and he wished you'd stayed.

"Perhaps," Coriolanus mused, thinking about it.

His thoughts were interrupted by your bedroom door opening. Your aunt stuck her head in, smiling at him before addressing you. "Dearest, Felix is here to see you."

Coriolanus went into defense. Felix? Felix Ravinstill? The most pretentious, stuck-up snob in their grade was here to see you?

You thanked your aunt and she left, shutting the door behind her. Now you were smoothing your dress, tucking your hair behind your ears. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. You were primping yourself to go visit with Felix Ravinstill?

"Felix Ravinstill?" he inquired politely, trying to quell the raging jealousy within him.

You gave him a sheepish half smile. "Yeah. He comes to see me a couple times a week."

Under normal circumstances he wouldn't have cared. He might've even secretly triumphed that his two least favorite people were taking each other off the market. But now he was disturbed by the idea.

"Are you...together?" he asked, hating that he sounded interested.

"No," you laughed a bit. "Not in the slightest. He'll probably move on to some other girl soon. I just entertain to be polite."

Coriolanus doubted it. Even when he'd hated you he'd known you were the most sought-after girl in your class. Festus was one who liked to have the best, and he likely wouldn't stop until you were his.

"Ah," he pretended to be okay with it.

"I'd better get down there," you said apologetically. "You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like."

"No, I'd better head home," Coriolanus said, standing up and putting his things in his bag. He didn't want to stay up here while you were downstairs chatting with Felix Ravinstill.

"I'll walk you out," you offered, and he followed you out the door.

You walked gracefully, holding the banister with one hand and the other holding your skirt. "I think it'll go well. Our presentation."

He agreed. "It will."

"Tomorrow if we just go through the basic points I think we'll get a good grade," you said as the two of you stopped at the front doors. "That and our essays will impress Professor Cicero, I just know it."

Your enthusiasm only made you more endearing to him. He gave you a quick smile and nodded, trying to maintain the cool demeanor that was slipping more every second he spent with you. "I believe it."

The two of you shared a look. You were smiling sweetly. His lips were parted slightly, hand on the strap of his satchel. In that moment he felt so...strongly towards you. It was like a magnet, an unstoppable natural force that called him to you...

But he couldn't act on it. Not now.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said quietly, giving you a quick smile.

"You got it," you said, nudging his shoulder. And then you were gone. Off into the sitting room where Felix was waiting for the privilege of your company.

He breathed easy once he was out the door. You had a strange effect on him, one in which he felt confused, but he also liked it. You were effervescent, nearly magical to him.

Coriolanus took in a breath, then started on his way home. He was going to shut the door to his room and read whatever love poetry he could get his hands on, in the hopes one of them could make him smile like you did.

The next day, you were shaky with nerves.

Coriolanus had never seen you like this. You were always such a ray of sunshine, so excited to even exist, it seemed. But today your knee was bouncing up and down, your lip was pinched between your teeth, and your fists squeezed tight.

The presentations dragged through the class period. The two of you were set to go last, and Coriolanus both praised and cursed Professor Cicero for that. Yours was set to be the best presentation, but it also meant your nerves were going to stew the longer you waited.

As another pair started their oral report, Coriolanus reached out and took your hand, squeezing it softly. Almost immediately, your body went still. You looked up at him, with that irresistible doe eyed gaze, and he melted.

"It's okay," he murmured, squeezing your hand. It was like someone else had taken residency in his brain. This gesture felt so out of character, but so right. To be here, comforting you... he found there was nowhere he'd rather be.

A little smile came to your face. You looked surprised, but you didn't push him away. He held your hand through this presentation, and the next. And then it was your turn.

You let go of his hand, and he reluctantly stood up, following you to the front of the room, setting yourselves under the judgmental gaze of Professor Cicero.

She nodded, the signal to begin. Coriolanus watched you take a deep breath and start to speak.

He marveled at your skill. You had been so nervous before, but nobody would have known it. Your voice was clear, your words eloquent. You spoke in the same way you wrote, he noticed. Poetic and pleasing to the ear, but not without point.

Coriolanus contributed his part as well, but his mind was far from the project. Him from yesterday would have kicked him, but he didn't care. He was completely and utterly captivated by you.

The presentation concluded, and you both turned to Professor Cicero for evaluation. He watched you hold your breath nervously.

"An excellent presentation," Professor Cicero assessed, giving you both a nod.

Your smile lit up your face, and you fidgeted with your hands excitedly. Coriolanus wanted to pull you into him and kiss you senseless.

Professor Cicero rifled through the papers of your essays, then looked up again. "The ideas presented are unique. A fresh take on the purpose of the Games."

Your excitement was growing, as was Coriolanus' need to hold you. He tried to gather himself. "Thank you, Professor Cicero."

"This was clearly well thought out," Professor Cicero continued, setting the papers down. She looked at him. "Mr. Snow? Were these your ideas?"

He froze. You turned to him expectantly, that little smile on your face. And before he knew it, the automatic academic instinct in him took over and the words were flying out of his mouth. "Yes. They were mine."

Instantly, a wave of regret washed over him. Your face fell, the smile completely disappearing from your face.

Professor Cicero took no notice, dismissing them to sit down. He kept his eyes on you, mind racing. Oh he'd really done it now. He'd gone and ruined everything.

As the both of you sat down, he barely heard Professor Cicero's closing remarks, unable to tear his gaze away from you. You sat up straight, eyes determinedly focused on the front of the class.

Professor Cicero dismissed the class, and you stood up instantly, leaving before he could say a word. Coriolanus picked up his bag and moved to follow you, but a voice called from the front of the class.

"Mr. Snow?" Professor Cicero beckoned. "A word?"

Oh no. She'd found him out. She knew he'd taken credit from you. He walked slowly to her desk, like he was marching to his death.

"I just wanted to tell you again what a wonderful presentation you gave today," Professor Cicero smiled, folding her arms on the desk. "You always do a wonderful job in my class, but the thoughts you presented were exceptional."

"Thank you," he said, a little stiffly. The guilt was festering inside him.

"And being paired with Miss Kennedy?" Professor Cicero referred to you. "How did that go?"

"It was...it was good," he confirmed, thinking about the time you'd spent together yesterday and feeling the smallest of smiles come to him. "She's a good partner."

"I'm glad you were able to keep her in check," Professor Cicero nodded. "Miss Kennedy is an accomplished student, to be sure, but her ideas can be a bit...radical. I thought it best for the two of you to be paired up so you could ground her a little."

He was floored, his eyes widening a little. "I wouldn't say radical. She's brilliant."

"For someone of her status, I suppose," Professor Cicero leaned back in her seat. "But girls like her aren't meant to be scholars."

Girls like her...radical...oh no.

He felt dazed and upset. Professor Cicero's prejudice against you hadn't been exaggerated.

"Anyway, an excellent job once again," Professor Cicero said casually, waving her hand as if she hadn't just brazenly insulted the smartest girl in school. "You're dismissed."

Coriolanus left the room feeling worse than he had before. There was a heroic amount of guilt blocking out his other senses. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard, what he'd done.

He spotted you at the end of the hall, speaking with another boy in your class. You looked so beautiful, the afternoon sun spilling through the windows and lighting up your silhouette. The boy you were talking to patted your shoulder and left. You turned around to start walking, but then spotted Coriolanus.

Standing there for a second, he wondered how he should apologize. Groveling maybe? But before he could approach you, you turned on your heel and left, heading out the double doors of the school.

He didn't think about it, he just followed you, briskly walking in the same direction and nearly sprinting down the stairs to catch up.

You must have heard him, but you ignored him, keeping your pace. Coriolanus managed to catch up, nearly out of breath. "Can I explain-?"

"What is there to explain?" you kept your eyes straight ahead.

"I want to apologize," he tried, wanting you to stop, but you didn't.

"For what? For stealing my credit?" you clutched the strap of your bag, trying to walk ahead. "I'd rather not hear it."

"I shouldn't have done that," he murmured.

"No, you shouldn't have," you turned a corner.

Coriolanus followed you. "I acted impulsively-"

"You did, didn't you?" Suddenly you stopped, turning to face him. "You stole my ideas, after I told you that Professor Cicero doesn't take me seriously. You knew that and you did it anyways."

He was silent, letting your words sink in.

You took a step toward him. "What did she say to you? Professor Cicero. I heard her call you back."

His lips parted, surprised. He didn't want to tell you.

"What did she say Coriolanus?" you insisted, your tone firmer than he'd ever heard it.

"She said we did a great job," he said honestly, withholding the rest.

"What else?" you questioned. He cursed your intellect.

"She...said she was glad I was able to keep you in check," he said reluctantly.

You nodded, looking down, your expression hurt, but not surprised. "Let me guess. She said something about how my work is usually far-fetched, and it's probably the best a girl with my background can do."

He was silent, but you must have gathered that you were correct from his expression, because you nodded once, looking like you were about to cry, and turned away, folding your arms over yourself.

Coriolanus felt horrible. He ached to take you into his arms and comfort you for the cruel words Professor Cicero had wrongfully directed at you.

"My ideas are too radical until you have them, is that it?" you said softly.

"Please-" he started.

"The worst part is, you didn't even need to do it," you turned to look at him, and his heart broke. There were tears in your eyes, a stark contrast to how he'd ever seen you before. "What you contributed was good. It would have gotten you the same grade. But you just had to steal what I did."

Every word of what you'd said was correct. You'd always had a gift for hitting things right on the nose. Even though he knew he'd messed up, let his idea of a rivalry ruin things, he wanted to make it right.

"I'm sorry," he said, his words earnest.

You pursed your lips, looking at your shoes, still on the verge of tears. He knew it wasn't enough, but it was a start.

"Let me walk you home," he offered, taking a step toward you.

You inhaled softly. "I'm not going home." Looking back up at him, your other hand found the strap of your bag. "I'll see you later."

He frowned a bit as you started walking, hurrying to catch up. "Where are you going?"

"It doesn't matter," you said briskly, turning another corner, down an alleyway. Coriolanus hadn't realized you'd were walking at the edge of the city until he saw the line of trees. You were headed for the woods.

"Wait, where are you going?" Coriolanus called, hurrying along beside you. You both crossed the border, stepping from concrete to grass.

"You don't need to follow me," you said, following the forest path.

He trailed behind you, concern growing by the second. "It's not safe out here. There are rebels in the woods."

"I've never come across any," you said simply, ducking under a tree branch.

"You've been out here before?" he questioned in disbelief.

"Yes," you moved gracefully through a patch of grass.

He paused for a second, trying to let that information make sense to him. When it didn't, he continued on, eyeing the gray sky. "It's about to rain."

You stopped, turning to him. "You don't need to follow me. I'm fine."

"It's not safe," he insisted as a raindrop fell on his cheek.

"Go home, Coriolanus," you sighed, turning away and continuing your walk. You ventured off the path, into a patch of trees.

"You can't just go off into the woods by yourself," he huffed, not listening to you. The rain was falling steadily now, and the two of you were quickly getting soaked. He didn't know how far into the woods you were, but it was certainly nowhere near the city.

"You don't say?" you said sarcastically.

"Will you just-" he grabbed your arm, pulling you to turn around. It was pouring rain. Your clothes and hair were soaked, as were his. You looked angelic. The sight of you made him forget what he had originally intended to say.

You stared at him, not pulling your arm away. He looked sincere, worried about you.

"The place I go isn't too far from here," you said quietly. "We can dry off and warm up there."

He pursed his lips and nodded. It wasn't like he knew how to get back from here anyway.

You led him through the grove, parting the leaves of a willow to reveal a little cottage tucked between the trees. He grew more confused by the minute.

"Where are we?" he asked, studying the cottage. It was small, but charming, obviously well kept.

Not answering, you ran your hands along the cracks of the cobblestones, seemingly searching for something. At last, you pulled a key out, unlocking the door. You went inside, leaving it open. Coriolanus hesitantly peered inside, seeing you kneel at a little fireplace, striking a match.

Holding up the little burning stick, you turned your head to face him briefly. "Are you coming?"

He remembered himself, coming inside and shutting the door behind him, setting his school bag beside yours. The cottage only had one room, lined with cabinets on one end and bookshelves on the other. The fireplace you were kneeling at was situated in the center of the room.

Cautiously, Coriolanus knelt beside you. You took off your jacket, folding it neatly to the side. Then you started to unbutton your shirt, and he tilted his head. "What are you doing?"

"We'll catch cold if we stay in our wet clothes," you said, sliding your shirt over your shoulders. He felt his breath quicken at the sight of your bra, a modest, white thing edged with lace, a tiny bow in the middle. You didn't seem to notice this, nodding at him. "Go on, take them off. We can let them dry for awhile."

He'd forgotten how kind you were. Even in your anger with him you were concerned for his well-being. With that thought in mind, Coriolanus stripped himself of his clothes, folding them beside yours. Your underwear matched your bra.

You warmed your hands by the fire, shivering. He noticed your damp skin, your wet hair sticking to your shoulders and back. Coriolanus himself was cold, but he was warming up quickly. You on the other hand were shaking, your body not retaining much heat.

He pursed his lips, then opened his arms. "Come here."

You looked over at him, brow furrowing. "What?"

"You'll get warmer faster," he insisted, knowing this to be true, but also secretly giddy at the idea of holding you.

Shaking your head, you looked back at the fire. "I couldn't, I-"

"Please," he said softly, eyes earnest as he looked at you. "I know you're still upset, but I don't want you to freeze."

Sighing, you looked down, considering. Another cold shudder shaking your body made the decision for you. Reluctantly, you crawled closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. His skin was warm, and you couldn't help leaning into him. It was simply too cold, and he was being too kind.

"Better?" he murmured, resting his chin on your head.

"Yes," you admitted. Your hand found a place on his chest as you settled against him. Coriolanus hesitantly moved his hand up to the back of your head, pressing your cheek to his shoulder. You welcomed the change, sighing softly as his body warmed you right up.

He debated saying something, then decided for it. "I...I am sorry. Truly. For what I did. It is inexcusable, as you said. You confided in me and I wasn't sensitive to it."

You were quiet during his apology, and you looked up at him, chin on his shoulder. Your eyes were soft, and you just looked at him for a moment before the corners of your mouth lifted just slightly. "Thank you for apologizing."

"Don't thank me for anything," he murmured, holding your gaze. "I've been cold to you for so long, and you didn't even do anything wrong."

"I understand feeling threatened," you said, lifting your chin from his shoulder. "But it still hurt. Especially when..." you trailed off, looking down. "I thought we were friends. Since yesterday, anyways."

"Right," he murmured, looking down. He tried to ignore his feelings, but having you pressed right against him in this state of undress made things hard. "I suppose I always felt...threatened, in a way by you. Things always seemed to come so naturally to you, especially academically. I fooled myself into thinking we had a rivalry."

"I don't know if I ever thought of it that way," you leaned your head on his shoulder once again. "I just knew you did as well as I did."

"In school perhaps," he mused, resting his head against yours. "But it's not just that. You're successful in the Capitol's social graces as well."

"Well, that has not always come so easily," you laughed a little.

"What do you mean?" Coriolanus secured his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close as you warmed up. "You've been doing this for most of your life, haven't you?"

You shook your head, and he looked down at you. "You haven't?"

"I didn't live in the Capitol my whole life," you said, meeting his eyes. "Moved here when I was...oh I must have been eleven or so."

"Ah." He hadn't known that. "And where did you live before then?"

"Not terribly far from here. It was by the ocean." You turned your head to look into the fire. "My favorite place."

"You lived there with your...aunt?" Coriolanus guessed, remembering the older lady from the day before.

"With my parents," you smiled. "And my sister."

"Sister?" He hadn't known you had a sister. Usually the siblings of the Capitol were presented into society together, especially the women.

"Yes. Margaret," you looked up at him, blue meeting blue. "She was the best."

"Margaret," he tested the name out, hoping he could find it as sweet as you did. He did. "Does she live close?"

"I don't know," you said plainly.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate.

"She left a long time ago," your smile was a little sad now. "I was nine. I haven't seen her since."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his hand on your shoulder absentmindedly stroking up and down. Though not in the same circumstances, he knew the pain of losing someone close.

"It's alright," you said, your head falling back on his shoulder. "I just hope she's happy."

"Did your parents go with her?" Coriolanus asked, before realizing he might be prying. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, no," you assured him, reaching over and squeezing his other hand. "It's alright."

Your touch had a profound effect on him. He half smiled, eyes on your beautiful face as you continued.

"Like I said, we lived by the ocean." Your eyes were hazy with nostalgia, the light of the fire reflecting in them. The rain was pounding against the roof, the sound seeming to calm you. "In a little cottage on the beach. Me and my parents and Margaret."

He nodded, fingers still tracing your shoulder.

"I can't remember why Margaret left," you continued. "But she did, and then it was just me and my parents. One day I was walking on the beach. They were in the water." You paused, looking down at his hand in yours. "There was a current and they drowned."

Coriolanus was silent. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. You, the sweetest girl in the whole Capitol, had a trauma buried in your past that he'd have never guessed. And yet here you were in front of him, forgiving and gracious.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed, brushing a strand of damp hair out of your face.

"It's okay, it was a long time ago," you said, smiling in a bittersweet way. "It all worked out. My aunt took me in, and she takes care of me."

"No, I'm sorry for the way I've treated you," Coriolanus shifted you slightly to face him. "All these years. I've been awful to you and you didn't deserve it. Not one bit. And with everything that happened today..."

"Hey," you sat on your knees, kneeling between his legs. "It's okay. we're okay now. Everything that happened today-" You shook your head. "-it doesn't matter. You've apologized, and I know how sorry you are."

"You're brilliant," he said, taking your face in his hands. The gesture caught you a little by surprise, but you smiled slightly. "Yesterday when we were working on the project...I could see it clearly. You're amazing. Smarter than me..."

You laughed a little at that, leaning your cheek into one of his hands. "Really?"

"Don't rub it in," he murmured, and you laughed again. "But yes. And you're also sweet and caring and...I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since yesterday."

"You haven't?" One of your hands came up to grasp his wrist.

"No." Coriolanus shook his head to emphasize. "All these years I thought I hated you. I even admitted I was jealous. But really..."

He paused. He'd started talking without really knowing what he was going to say. So instead, he acted on an impulse and lowered his lips to yours.

Coriolanus' lips molded against yours, touching them softly, hesitantly. Until you started to kiss him back.

At that moment, when you reciprocated, he really started to kiss you. His lips dragged over yours, his thumbs tracing your jawline and bringing you closer. You shivered, not from the cold, but form the way he was touching you, holding you like something precious, something delicate.

The kiss broke off, and your eyes went back and forth between his, smiling slowly. As you did, his lips ghosted softly over yours once, then twice before he opened his eyes.

"You like me now?" you breathed, eyes bright.

"More than like you." His thumb roved over your cheekbone. He was smiling too. "Definitely more than like you."

You let out a little laugh of disbelief, your head falling against his chest. He hugged you close to him, kissing the top of your head. Contently, the two of you laid there for awhile, the fire warming you right up.

When you'd decided you were warm enough, you lifted your head, pressing a brief kiss to his lips before looking over at the door. You frowned. "Did you shut the door all the way?"

"I don't think we need to worry about anyone walking in on us," he muttered, trailing kisses down your neck.

"No." You nudged him off you, standing up. He followed you to the door, watching as you twisted the handle. It wouldn't budge. "The door gets stuck when it rains."

"Let me try," he offered. You stepped aside, and he pulled at the handle to no avail. "Ah, I see."

You groaned, hiding your face in his shoulder. "I should have told you before you came in...now we're gonna be stuck here all night."

"That doesn't sound so bad," he mused, arms wrapping around your waist. "It's not like we'll freeze."

"But we- ugh." You gave up, leaning back against him. "I don't know how I could have possibly forgotten."

"It'll be alright," he soothed, rubbing your back. "And besides, now we like each other." Coriolanus smirked slightly. "Whatever will we do all night?"

You laughed, letting him tug you back to the fire, where you remained cuddled in his arms until you both fell asleep.

The next morning the rain had stopped, and the two of you redressed in your clothes, opening the door with ease and walking out into the forest.

Coriolanus couldn't help his smile as he looked down at you, bringing your fingers to his lips as you walked back to the city.

Hand in hand.

come talk about coryo here!

[sophrosynesworld]

With all my love, pt 5

Am I crazy? Seriously, am I the kind of person who stalks their ex-boyfriend on Twitter, spots a mutual friend in the background of a drunk selfie, then calls that friend to get the address so I can show up and kill my ex?

I press the elevator button, heading up to the penthouse. As the elevator speeds past the lower floors, my heart pounds in my chest. Mumbles leave my mouth as I hold back my nausea, feeling like I’m going to barf in this plant. What luxury apartment complex has a plant in the elevator?

Why didn’t I come up with a plan sooner? The adrenaline that fueled my initial anger is already beginning to dwindle. I let out a soft sigh, closing my eyes for a moment to concentrate. I can’t let him do this to me anymore. I'm exhausted by the mind games, the constant psychological warfare.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to reveal a lavish hallway. I take a deep breath, feeling a flutter of nerves. I haven't been to Todoroki’s apartment before, which makes this whole situation even more nerve-racking. The empty hallway is intimidating, each step I take echoing softly. Despite the knots in my stomach, I know I can't turn back now. This is my only chance to reclaim my sense of self, to finally break free from the cycle of manipulation and pain.

I open the front door and slip off my outside shoes, replacing them with an appropriate indoor pair from my bag. The living room is full with a combination of heroes and groupies, their faces illuminated by the shifting colors of several strobe lights. The air is thick with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat, and the unmistakable tang of spilled beer.

The music vibrates the floor below me, suddenly feeling bad for his downstairs neighbors. A steady beat reverberates through my chest as I watch the crowd for a moment, trying to spot a familiar face. Bodies grind in sync on the dance floor, a group is gathered near the kitchen, their conversations unheard thanks to the music. On the far side of the room, an old classmate is standing next to the makeshift bar, mixing drinks with practiced ease.

“Can you make me a drink Sero?” my voice surprises him clearly as he jumps and knocks a few plastic cups over, causing them to spill out over the floor. The much taller man turns around with a drunken smile spreading across his face, liquor lingers on his breath as he picks me up and spins me around in a circle.

“I didn’t know they let you outside anymore” Sero laughed as he placed me back down onto the floor. His tape quickly extending out towards several bottles, helping him create some drink concoction. An aquamarine beverage is extended out to me as I hear a high pitched squeal in my ear.

Mina latched onto me before I can process what’s happening. Her combined “oh my gods” and complaints about my outfit are tossed in between each other like an overstuffed compliment sandwich.

“I’m excited to see you too Mimi.” I offer her a small hug back as I question Sero.

“What is this?”

“Plus Ultra Punch.”

“Of course it is.” my eyes roll as I down my drink. Mina squeezing my shoulders excitedly while Sero quickly made another.

“Be careful, these are strong.” He warns before turning around to help another nonpaying client.

I sip my drink, the alcohol burning a fiery path down my throat. The potent mix of liquor and fruitiness lingers on my tongue. As I savor the sensation, I glance over at Mina, who’s excitedly tapping away on her phone, her face illuminated by the screen's glow.

"Do you know where Bakugou is?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

She looks up, concern flashing in her eyes. "Do you think that’s a good idea?" she counters, her hand gripping my jacket. Her gaze darts nervously around the room, scanning the crowd.

"Who is he with?" My voice wavers slightly, a defeated breath escaping my lungs. I brace myself for the answer. Mina sighs, rolling her eyes at my stupidity before pointing towards the balcony.

"She's just some groupie. They just met tonight. I—" Her voice fades into music as I weave my way through the dance floor. Liquid courage propels me forward until I reach the balcony door, my hand poised to turn the knob.

Before I can open it, a strong hand catches mine. I turn to see Kirishima, his expression serious as he gently but firmly pulls me closer to his chest. His eyes, usually so warm, are full of concern.

"You don't want to do this," he says, his voice low and pleading.

"Do what, Eijiro?" I snap, frustration bubbling to the surface.

"You don't want to see him tonight," he insists, his grip tightening slightly.

"What are you talking about? You're the one who begged me to see him in the first place. So, surprise." I wave my hands in a mock cheer, but his expression remains stern. Confusion must be written all over my face.

"He's drunk.” Kirishima explains, his voice edged with frustration.

Correction: he's being a horndog.

"I already know that," I respond, trying to keep my cool.

"No. He's first-semester drunk.”

Correction: He’s being a horndog.

Correction: He's being a mean lil fucker.

The weight of his words sinks in, a sharp reminder of a side of Bakugou I've rarely seen. Usually, alcohol makes him overly affectionate, but when he's in a bad place, everyone allows him to act like an absolute jerk.

"Don't make me beg, Eijiro. I need to do this. I can't go home now," I plead, my voice cracking with desperation. My eyes lock onto his.

Eijiro hesitates, scanning the room again before reluctantly releasing me. "Do you want me to go with you?" he offers, his voice softening with concern.

"Katsuki would never hurt me. My feelings? All the time. But I'm not in any danger with him." my pitch matches his as I offer a small smile.

I step back, turning towards the door. Kirishima's eyes follow me as I open it and step onto the balcony. The humid night air wraps around me, heavy and thick.

I can hear her giggle again, a sound that slices through me like a knife. I step over to the right-hand side, drawn by the flirtatious sounds. As I move closer, the scene comes into focus: the two of them sitting by the pool, her legs draped over his as she leans back, laughing.

The sight of them together feels like a betrayal, a sharp twist of the knife already lodged in my heart. Each giggle, each touch, is a reminder of how easily he disregards my feelings, of how little I seem to matter to him. The pain is overwhelming, a tidal wave of hurt and anger.

"Katsuki Bakugou!" I bark, my voice slicing through the air. His head snaps in my direction, eyes wide and frantic like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, he stiffens, standing unsteadily by the pool's edge as if he’s wondering if his drunken mind is playing tricks on him.

In his panic to stand, he accidentally shoves the poor woman beside him into the pool. Her screams are piercing for a brief moment before being abruptly silenced as she plunges underwater. Katsuki pays her no mind, his focus solely on me as he stomps over with a fury that radiates off him in waves. Her distressed whines are lost in the chaos of the moment, falling on deaf ears as he seizes my arm with a grip that is both desperate and furious.

His eyes, a mix of shock and confusion, rake over me as if he's searching for some sign of authenticity, as if I’m someone else using a transformation quirk. His breath comes in short, ragged bursts, his fingers digging into my skin as if I’m going to disappear again.

"Katsuki, let go," I manage to whisper, my voice trembling. His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of vulnerability behind his anger.

The night air feels thicker, almost suffocating, as we stand there, locked in a silent struggle. The woman's splashes and gasps barely register in our shared turmoil. Katsuki's grip tightens, his eyes searching mine for answers that I'm not sure I can give. The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming, a look that leaves me feeling exposed and raw.

Before I can say anything, his lips crash onto mine, rough and urgent, his hands gliding over my exposed skin as slides his palms to both sides of my face. The intensity of his kiss takes my breath away, and I instinctively reach for his wrists, trying to pull away.

“Bakugou, I—” He cuts me off again, his lips capturing mine more forcefully. His tongue flicks across my lower lip, demanding entry. I deny his request, trying to pull away once more.

“You’re such a brat. Do you know that?” His voice is low, a dangerous rumble.

“Do you know how absolutely insane you make me? You have completely ruined me, woman.” His hands run down my spine and reach for the small of my back, pulling our bodies impossibly close. His soft lips leave a trail of peppery kisses all over my neck and face, each one sending shivers down my spine.

“I mean, fuck.” He pulls away, his eyes dark and intense. “I can’t think straight. When I’m on a mission, I’m wondering if you’re watching me on TV. When I’m on patrol, I stick to routes with the fastest response time to your office.” His hands drop from my face, the initial shock wearing off, allowing his real emotions to surface. His voice rises with every word, each syllable dripping with raw emotion. His hands pull away from my body.

“You left me. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You left me some shitty note on the bed and thought I wouldn’t notice your disappearance? Well, I did!”

My hands reach out to him, but he pushes them away, almost scoffing at the gesture. He steps back, creating a wider gap between us.

“I’m the one who left? You’re the one that’s been cheating on me! You don’t get to make me feel sorry for your dumb ass and then fuck someone else, dickhead!” My voice trembles with a mixture of hurt and anger.

His eyes widen, nostrils flaring as he stretches his arms wide, his voice booming for anyone to hear.

“Are you serious?” he paces back and forth, his agitation clear. “I would never disrespect you like that. I can’t even believe you would think that.”

I scoff, crossing my arms defensively. “Coming home late, pulling away from me, not showing up for our planned date nights and dinners, having to stay at the office until ungodly hours, or maybe worst of all, going MIA for days at a time and leaving me to worry you’re dead.”

The words hang between us, heavy and accusatory, each one a dagger in the already bleeding wounds of our relationship.

Bakugou pulls out his phone, his fingers angrily slamming onto the touchscreen with each tap. He brings it up to his ear, his voice a low, furious whisper as he speaks to someone on the other end. The conversation is brief and tense, ending abruptly as he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket.

Without a moment's hesitation, he stomps up to me, his eyes blazing with determination. He reaches for my hand, yanking me toward him with a force that takes my breath away. His grip is firm as he moves backward toward the door, dragging me along despite my attempts to plant my feet and resist.

"Katsuki, stop!" I plead, my voice wavering, but he pays no attention to my words. His expression is set in stone, his jaw clenched tightly.

Ignoring my protests, he leans down. With surprising ease, lifts me off the ground, throwing me over his shoulder. The world tilts as I find myself staring at the ground, my hands pounding against his back in a futile attempt to make him release me.

“Put me down, Katsuki!” I shout, my voice echoing through the night air. But the drunken man before me is beyond reason, his focus solely on getting us out of there.

As we move through the party, the atmosphere shifts. Conversations falter and heads turn to watch the spectacle unfolding before them. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, a mix of confusion and curiosity. People part instinctively, creating a pathway as Bakugou strides purposefully toward the exit, carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

"What the hell, Bakugou?" someone calls out, but he doesn't respond. His steps remain steady, his hand resting on the top of my ass. I catch glimpses of familiar faces, their expressions a blend of shock and concern, but no one dares to intervene.

The pulsating music and flashing lights of the party become a distant background noise as we finally make it outside. Bakugou's pace quickens as he heads toward the parking lot, and there, waiting under a streetlamp, is Izuku's car.

Bakugou finally sets me down, his grip momentarily loosening as he fumbles for his phone again. I take a deep breath, my heart still racing from the chaotic journey through the party. The car's headlights flicker to life, illuminating the scene as Izuku steps out, his face a mask of concern and confusion.

"What's going on?" Izuku asks, his eyes darting between the two of us.

Before I can answer, Bakugou cuts in, his voice still laced with anger and urgency. "Just get us out of here, Deku. Now."

[baratiddyappreciator]

Cuddling the Baki Cast (NSFW)

Minors DNI and all that, you guys know better. I had a lot of fun with these ones, changed up the order a bit, and also carried over the bonus Yanagi, Oliva, Chiharu and Gaia, at the cost of taking out Tokugawa because I apparently can't sexualize that particular old man. DW, You'll still get your old man fix though ;) These are a bit longer than the initial ones because I'm not as restrained when I can just put the cut right beneath my little blurb and write... Well, sin. Also guess who finally decided to whip out colours so things are clearer :D (it's me)

NSFW under the cut!

Baki:

Cuddling with him always comes with a risk. A risk of being interrupted by some upstart trying to challenge him, or his dad, for some godforsaken reason. Sometimes he gets a sudden spurt of energy and feels the need to just disappear and go train for a few hours, but sometimes, and sometimes, like now, you feel his hands start to snake around your sides and under your shirt, higher and higher towards your chest as his previously innocent kisses turn hungry and deliberate against your throat. His fingers tweak your nipples as his lips meet yours, his hips bumping softly against your own, his legs urging yours apart so he can make room for himself, grinding against you hard and slow. He was all over, kissing you, grinding against you, playing with your nipples.

He didn't want to take his hands off of your chest, so it was up to you to reach down to pull your pants and underwear down. He didn't get the luxury treatment for being lazy, of course, the most he got was you clumsily undoing his pants and pulling him out of his boxers so he could grind against your eager little hole for a little bit before he pressed in, rolling slightly so that he could press both of his knees to the futon beneath the two of you, rolling his hips, his hands still cupping your chest, but now using it as a form of handhold so he could pull you back down onto his cock, his hot breath fanning against the shell of your hear.

"You're driving me wild baby doll."

Kozue:

She liked having music playing while you two cuddled. She said it added to the atmosphere, helped soothe you two into a comfortable, zen mood, and sometimes even into sleep. But other times, it was helpful for covering up the sounds of her breathless gasps. Your teeth gently came down on the shell of her ear as your fingers slid over her slick clit, her hips pressed back against yours, her own hand cupping you through your pants, providing you the friction you needed as you ground against her palm, her shirt pulled up exposing her chest to the now slightly chilly air. She'd been working so hard lately, it was only fair that you help her take off the edge so she doesn't burn herself out.

She gasped slightly louder, her other hand grabbing frantically at her pillow to muffle her voice, her hips bucking against your palm as your fingers circled her clit faster and harder, her face turning slightly so you could kiss her properly. She was shaking, so close to the edge that you could almost taste it, feeling the minute twitches in her thighs and her lower stomach, her ragged breaths hitching as hit-pitched whines escaped her.

"Baby please, I'm so close already."

Hanayama:

Having him crawl into bed after coming home dead tired was always a treat. He'd normally keep the lights off and not notice that you woke up the second the front door opened. You could tell what kind of mood he was in just by how he took off his shoes. And today was a mood that you could get behind. His hand slid up your thigh over the blankets, tickling you as his weight settled behind you only a moment later, the blankets being pulled down slightly. He knew you were awake at this point, you couldn't help the stupid grin on your face as he found you naked as the day you were born in bed, waiting for him. A soft swear was muttered under his breath, before you felt his cock slap against your ass, encouraging you angle your hips up and back so he could make you feel good.

And of course, you obeyed. Why wouldn't you? This was the kind of cuddling that you didn't mind in the slightest. The delicious stretch you felt as he pressed into you was exactly what you've been needing all night. You've been lonely without him. His forehead pressed against the back of your head, hips rolling slowly to get used to the feeling before he sat up, his hand settling on your lower back, guiding your hips back to meet his in a tiny thrust, your only hint of playfulness in him before you were jostled forward by a hard snap of his hips, your hands scrabbling at the pillows for purchase.

"That's it, be good for me and take it."

Chiharu:

He was a bundle of nerves during regular cuddling, always worried that he'd do something wrong and freak you out or hurt you. He's not as strong as some of the guys in the arena, but he's still plenty powerful you know! This time, however, you were the one worried about freaking him out as your hand travelled lower and lower down his torso towards his hips, innocently looking up at him as you toyed with his zipper, your hips wiggling slightly. He looked flabbergasted, eyes flicking between your eyes and your hand, then back to your eyes, and finally down to your lips as he licked his own. This would be fun, you could tell as he gave you a tiny nod, and you started unbuckling him.

His shaft was hot and heavy in your hand as you slowly pumped him, his hand resting on your ass, slowly starting to creep around to slide beneath your pants and sink into your eager hole. It's only fair that he return the favour, right? His head fell back slightly, a groan leaving him, before his head came back to but against yours gently, his brow furrowed, his unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes glassy and filled with pleasure locked with your own as you jerked him off, still smug, but you couldn't stop your hips from rocking back against his hand as his fingers gently rubbed at your insides.

"Fuck me doll, you're making my brain melt."

Katsumi:

Warm. You normally woke up warm, but now you were almost too warm as Katsumi tossed your legs over his thighs, hands cupping your chest, rolling your pert nipples between his pointers and thumbs, kissing you hungrily. You loved it when he woke up and decided his morning run could be replaced by ramming you into the mattress, his hips slowly rolling against yours as he sank into you slowly, the stretch delicious as he pressed in and pulled out time and time again. One of his hands left your chest to gently rest at the base of your throat, your only warning that he was about to pick up the pace before he was off to the races.

His hips slammed into yours, the wet sound of your bodies joining amplified in the room as he used your throat to pull you back down on his cock after he jostled you forward, his hair messy, lightly panting before he flashed a smile at you, your legs cinching around his waist and giving him a little squeeze, drawing him in deeper, closer, and he didn't hesitate to throw his head back and let out a low moan that vibrated through the air, making you scrambled to reach up and cover his smirking lips.

"Come on sweetheart, the neighbours already hate us, have some fun."

Jack:

Your hands were braced on his chest, firm and strong. He was big and sturdy, one of his hands resting on your thigh, the other on your hip, thumb pointing down to give you that extra bit of stimulation as your hips rocked against his hard, a deep groan leaving his lips as his head fell back against the arm of the couch, his cock pressing deep into you, hitting parts that you'd previously never known about before meeting him. His hips rolled in tandem with yours, timing it just right so that he'd press in as you rocked back, sending him deeper into you in just the right way that made you feel like you were going to explode.

His eyes were glazed over as he brought his head back, low moans tumbling from his parted lips as he watched you ride him. One of your hands moved up and squeezed the base of his thick neck, earning a louder moan, his hips bucking up sharply, though he rubbed at your thigh in apology immediately after, he knew he had to behave. Sometimes him assuming that you had no ulterior motives to crawling into his lap had its benefits, like the flustered look on his face when you'd started griding your hips onto his only moments ago. He growled against your lips as you leaned down to kiss him.

"Fuck honey, keep going, just like that, I've needed it all day."

Gaia:

The first time he'd slotted his thigh between your legs while you were watching your show, you'd slapped it away playfully. He knew how much you liked this show, surely he wouldn't bother you while you were watching the new episode, right? But his thigh bumped between your legs again, and another time after that, one of his hands resting on your hips to guide them down on his leg, his other massaging the base of your throat. He was, apparently, going to make you miss this episode, forcing you to watch it some other time, which really wasn't the same. He nipped at the shell of your ear, impishly smiling at you when you glared at him from over your shoulder, though you both knew that it was half-hearted at best.

He had you grinding against his thigh on your own in no time, extremely proud of himself for providing the perfect distraction at just the right time, his own hips chasing yours with each roll forward and down, basking in your little whimpers and sighs as he brought pleasure to you, his hand rhythmically squeezing at the base of your neck in time with your increasingly desperate thrusts against his leg.

"What's the matter sweetheart? Can't focus?"

Kosho:

His hands, you decided, were fucking dangerous. You'd just been trying to snuggle up to him, it was cold tonight, and now you were pinned to his chest, squirming and bucking your hips as he fucked you on his fingers, his other hand holding your cheeks, forcing you to look him in the eyes as his palm made a slick slapping noise whenever it made contact with your skin, pleasure rising from each forceful impact, each crook of his fingers. You could feel him, fully hard, pressed against your stomach, but he wasn't going to let you touch him yet.

No, that was for people who behaved and didn't make him lose his comfortable spot when he was so close to falling asleep. He wasn't genuinely mad, that you both knew, but he was going to make a point, and he was going to make sure that it got across before he gave you his dick. You made a choked noise as his fingers hit a spot that made you see stars, and he smirked.

"Are you warm enough now, babydoll?"

Kureha:

Cuddling with Kureha was dangerous for a multitude of reasons. For starters, sometimes he'd just sit in silence, and then come out and say that your heartbeat was irregular and that it was annoying him. Other times? Well, other times you'd wind up where you were now, with your legs over his shoulders as his mouth worked wonders on you on your couch, the freshly folded laundry knocked all over the floor during the excitement. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand to his crotch, the angle awkward, but allowing for access.

Your movements were sloppy, because of course they were, he was making your brain leak out of your ears with what his tongue was doing to you, but he knew better than to expect perfection from you while he was going down on you, settling for the sloppy, jerky handjob he was getting from you, well aware that you'd get better after he helped you cum.

"Darling I love you, but if you don't give me some more grip, I'm going to lose it."

Retsu:

You loved how you could absolutely blindside this man by asking him to cuddle you. A quick cuddle on the couch, that was all you'd asked for, and he'd given it to you. What he hadn't realised was that it was all a clever ploy for you to find a way to suck his dick before he went and trained. He'd made some really good food for supper the night before, and now he was going to get cherished, absolutely fucking appreciated, the idiot.

Your head bobbed, and the couch groaned under the force of his grip, his hands shaking as he whined, hips shallowly bucking into your mouth, drool slicking his shaft, wanting to touch, but not wanting to at the same time. His face was bright red and twisted in pleasure, and if you could take a picture and frame it, you'd keep it beside your bed so you could see it every morning and every night.

"Love, please- Gods- Don't stop!"

Oliva:

Telling him about any of your fantasies was a huge mistake. Why? Because now he had you pegged. Literally and figuratively. He knew what you'd like, and he'd used that to get to where you where now, bouncing on his cock, your hands braced on his knees as his hand, settled on your lower back, guiding you up and down on him, that damn smirk playing across his lips, like he was proud of himself (he was, he absolutely was and he wouldn't hide that).

There was a brief moment where his guiding hand stopped, but only so that the other hand could give your ass a "light tap". The resounding slap rang out in the room, earning a strangled moan as you threw your head back, hearing that all too familiar chuckle.

"That's it honey, take it just like that."

Doppo:

You'd both had long days, so you'd settled for just lounging around the house, wrapped up in a blanket, watching whatever was on TV at the time. But Doppo had keen eyes and a golden tongue, he saw the way you'd kept rubbing your thighs together- hell, he'd felt it- and he wasn't about to let you end your night horny. And you would have appreciated that fact more if he hadn't put you in a damn headlock and decided to fuck your soul out. His hips pounded against yours, slick smeared across both of your skin, his arms powerful steel rods around your head and neck, choking, but not entirely.

Broken, garbled little sounds left your lips, but he only chuckled, pausing for only a second to readjust and reposition his hips to hit that spot he knew drove you absolutely insane and would usually have you cumming so hard you'd start crying, his arms flexing harder for just a moment, completely cutting off your air supply, and your eyes rolled. You could just see the proud smirk on his lips as he laughed breathlessly.

"Come on baby, I said I'd make it all better, didn't I?"

Shibukawa:

You really should have known that you couldn't out-sly the master. You thought you were being clever by offering him your lap so you could cop a feel, but that hadn't turned out the way you were expecting at all. As it stood, he currently had you pinned to the ground and was fucking your thighs almost painfully slowly, chuckling in your ear. He was so close, yet so far from you, and it drove you mad with need.

He wasn't evil, of course, just mischievous, so he was kind enough to at least direct his thrusts upwards once in a while for a short period so you'd get some stimulation beyond in your thighs, his grip so firm that it was almost guaranteed that you wouldn't be able to writhe away.

"Do you see now darling? You can't pull a fast one on me."

Yanagi:

His hand covered your mouth, but he wasn't trying to kill you. No, he was trying to shut you up so you wouldn't make the neighbours freak out and call the cops as he slammed his hips against yours, your eyes rolling back as he hit a spot that made you see stars. All of this because you insisted on being so needy right after his escape from prison. His hand came down on your ass again, earning a jolt as the sharp sting shot through your body like a gun.

His fingers flexed, moving slightly, making sure that his palm wouldn't entirely cover your mouth so you could breathe, but they immediately moved back at the loud sob you let out as he hissed sharply, sucking air in through his teeth.

"Now now sweetheart, if you keep making noises like that I'll have to leave."

Motobe:

You thought you'd won the lottery by getting Motobe to cuddle with you. He was warm, comfortable, and relaxed. And then he'd started cleaning his damn sword. Of course, you could still relax, hell, you even started to drift off to sleep until the movement of his arms changed slightly, a new, slick noise rousing you from your dozing. His breath came out in short pants as he grabbed your hand, squeezing it around his shaft as he kissed your forehead. Not this was a sword you could get behind cleaning.

Of course, there was something much better at cleaning his sword than your hand, and he wasted no time sinking straight into the hilt, earning a long whine as he pulled you down onto his hips, smirking up at you as your hips rolled and bucked against his, desperate for some form of relief, your hands braced on his shoulders, gasping as he simply leaned back, lighting and taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched you bounce on his cock.

"There you go baby, take care of me just like that."

[babydollmarauders]

RIGHT HERE — JOHN MARINO

summary: in which y/n can’t let go of her situationship

warnings: NSFW!!! fingering, p in v (unprotected), substance use (weed), praise, sir kink

notes: inspired by Right Here by Chase Atlantic. this is 3.4k words even after editing, not proofread

“oh c'mon y/n, you're not seriously calling him, are you?” Kate's voice drifts over the edm song blasting from the speakers of the Hoboken club, her face painted in disappointment.

“he's not good for you.” Taylor sing-songs, attempting to pry the phone out of my hand, but i keep a firm grip on the electronic.

“how do you know that?” i rebut. “he makes me feel good.”

“yeah, for like an hour.” Kate rolls her eyes, finally wrestling the iphone from my hold, clicking the red button to end the call before it can even connect. “then we have to pick up the pieces after he inevitably leaves you alone again.”

she holds the device out of my reach, swatting my hands away with her other hand as i reach for it.

“y/n, we love you. we just don't wanna see you hurt.” Taylor coos, a hand playing with the ends of my hair. her doe-like eyes soften like her tone.

“we came out tonight for you to find someone else.” Kate reminds me, her stern voice a stark contrast to Taylor's. she glances down at the phone screen, leveling me with a stare before she hands it back to me. “two calls? really? get a grip, y/n, please. if he didn't answer the first time, then he doesn't want you tonight.”

“i don't want someone else. if i find someone else, then i have to teach them what i like.” i huff. “John knows my body and he knows how to please me. and if you aren't gonna support me in my... situation... with him, then i don't wanna hear anything about it.”

“we just want the best for you, babes.” Taylor chimes, clearly trying to de-escalate the situation.

“i'm going home.” i announce, stuffing my phone in my clutch and standing from the bar seat.

“going home? or getting in his bed?” Kate chuckles, sipping her drink.

“fuck off.” i scoff, walking away and leaving my so-called friends in the club.

it doesn't take me long to walk the fifteen minutes from the club to my apartment, one of the main reasons i had suggested that club tonight; but by the time i get up to my place, my feet are killing me.

ripping the high heels from my feet, i let my bare soles relax against the wooden flooring, heaving out a sigh of relief as i throw the shoes to the side.

i slump onto my sofa, opening my clutch and retrieving my phone. i just stare at it for a few moments, wondering if Kate is right. is three calls in a night too much?

it doesn't take long for my mind to wander, thoughts of the ice hockey defenseman in between my thighs, flashbacks to the two of us tangled between my sheets, his fingers working wonders against my heat as his lips attach to my neck. thats all it takes for me to snap, unlocking the device and clicking on his contact.

one call. i'll give him one more call. if he doesn't answer, then i'll just leave it for the night; try to get myself off or suck it up and go to bed frustratedly horny.

i listen silently as the phone rings with the outgoing call. once. twice. three times, before it connects.

“hey, pretty girl. three calls in a night.” his voice is raspy and slow. i can hear the faint voices of Jack and Dawson in the background of the other line, and just from those clues, i know what he's up to at the moment.

“please.” i can't hold back the whimper at the sound of him, clenching my thighs together at his teasing chuckle. “i need you, Johnny.”

“i'll be right there.” he replies. i can hear shuffling on the other end, the sound of keys jingling, and i assume he's stuffing them in his pocket.

“hey, Johnny?” i bite my lip, waiting for his voice again.

“yeah, pretty girl?”

“bring a blunt.” i tell him. he huffs out a raspy laugh, agreeing before he ends the call.

it's twenty minutes later that the sound of a knock echoes throughout my apartment and i get giddy, jumping up from the sofa and fast-walking to the door. i take a second to compose myself before i open it, John standing on the other side with a smirk.

“hey, baby.” he steps into the apartment, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “so which one are we doing first?”

“smoke.” i say, gesturing for him to follow me while he pulls a ziploc baggie out of his pocket, holding two blunts.

“you can start while i get changed.” i inform him, stepping into my bedroom with him hot on my trail. i look back to see him nod, snatching a lighter from the top of my dresser as i dig in my drawer for something sexy but comfortable.

i leave him sitting on my bed, the rolled object between his fingers, smoke drifting into the air from his lips. stepping into the bathroom, i get changed quickly, out of the itchy sparkly club dress and into a red satin slip nightdress.

opening the bathroom door, i notice the atmosphere has changed, the ceiling light off in exchange for my LED lights, a blue glow settling over the room.

John's eyes watch me hungrily, locked on the curves of my waist as i stalk towards the bed, kneeling onto the mattress and bending forward to steal the blunt from his lips, sticking it between mine. his gaze darts between my lips and my cleavage before settling on my eyes.

i crawl up the bed, sitting down sideways beside him, my legs thrown over his.

we're silent for a while, at some point telling alexa to play our playlist. we just enjoy the music, passing the drug back and forth a few times.

“my friends think you're bad for me.” i tell him through a choked laugh. he smirks, his hand rubbing up and down my bare thigh, causing me to clench them together, which results in a knowing look from John.

“baby, take a look around.” he remarks. “i don't give a fuck about your friends, or what they think. i'm the one right here.”

his response makes a pit settle deep within my stomach, a mixture of want and need.

i take a hit, hooking a finger under his chin to bring his face to mine, before letting the smoke drift from my lips to his.

pulling back, lust clouds his eyes and i let him take the substance from my grasp, settling back on my hands as he sets the small bit of leftover blunt on my nightstand. he turns back towards me, knocking my legs off of his and maneuvering to hover over my body.

he dips his head into my neck, pressing sloppy kisses against my racing pulse, his hand sliding up my waist and over my stomach before clutching at my breast, his thumb ghosting over the fabric that covers my pierced nipple. his touch elicits a moan to escape my lips, my hips bucking up to graze his.

“shhh,” he hushes me, pulling back from my neck to look into my bloodshot eyes. “be a good girl for me.”

his hand leaves my breasts to push my hips down, holding them in place against the bed. his lips return to my skin, trailing kisses up my jawline before he finally reaches my lips. the kiss is sloppy and slow, teeth clattering and tongues exploring. he sucks at my bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth.

his hand explores my body once more, this time sliding down my thigh before gliding back up, pulling my dress up with his touch. his fingertips trail up my inner thigh, causing a shiver to wrack my body, a whimper bubbling up my throat.

he reaches his destination, pulling my panties to the side and swiping two fingers through my soaking core. my hips buck up again at his touch, making him let out a dark chuckle.

“so wet for me.” he tuts.

“yes, sir.” i moan as his fingers brush over my clit. “just for you.”

“yeah?” he urges on, pulling my panties down my legs, throwing them off to the side, landing in a heap on my bedroom floor.

he brushes his touch over my heat again, drawing out another moan from me.

“please.” i whine.

“what do you want, baby?” he questions, scanning my face. “you want my fingers, hm?”

my head bounces up and down, nodding fastly.

“can you say it for me? use your words, baby. tell me to fuck you with my fingers.”

“please, fuck me with your fingers, sir.” i whine.

John seems to deem it enough begging, because he slips a single digit into me, causing a mix of a moan and a sigh to drop from my swollen lips. my eyes screw shut in pleasure, my jaw going slack.

he crooks his finger inside me, my hips grinding down onto his hand.

“more.” i plead, my hands fisting the sheets beneath me. he adds a second finger, dragging them lazily inside of me, his thumb now providing a pressure point to my clit.

“open your eyes, pretty girl. look at me.” my eyes flutter open at his command, locking with his. he holds that eye contact as his fingers pump into me.

the crude sounds of his fingers gliding in and out of my wetness fills the room, mingling with my moans and calls of his name. ready for something more, i grip his shirt, pulling on it and bringing his lips down to mine, engaging him in a deep kiss.

“please, John.” i mutter, my lips brushing against his. “i want your cock.”

his fingers scissor and curl in a 'come-hither' motion a few more times, the knot in my stomach growing, before he removes them, leaving me empty.

he brings his hand up to my face, his wet fingertips tapping against my bottom lip, and i open my mouth, letting him press his fingers on my tongue. the taste of me settles on my tastebuds and i suck around his digits, letting my tongue lap at them.

John lets out a groan at the feeling and the sight of me beneath him. he pulls away, his fingers leaving my mouth with a pop. standing from the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head while i scoot to the edge of the bed, fumbling with his belt.

he chuckles as i get frustrated when i can't undo it, knocking my hands away to remove it himself. pulling his pants and boxers down, his dick slaps against his lower stomach as he kicks them off.

my mouth waters at the sight, my pussy clenching at nothing but the phantom feeling of him filling me up, the remembrance enough to make my breathing speed up.

he bypasses me, climbing back onto the mattress and settling in the middle, slumped against the headboard.

“c'mere.” he insists, pulling me towards him. his hands grip my hips as he guides me to straddle him, holding my nightdress up just enough to put my pussy on display. “ride me like a good girl.”

i grasp his length in one hand, a grunt passing his lips at the feeling of my hand wrapped around him. my other grasps his shoulder as leverage to keep me up. sliding his dick through my folds, my back arches and i let out a shaky breath, mixing with his own groan at the feeling.

his right hand leaves my hip to slap my ass.

“don't be a tease, baby.” he warns. “sink this cock into your pretty pussy.”

at his order, i line him up with my entrance, lowering myself down slowly. my head drops back in content, gnawing at my bottom lip and letting out a muffled cry of pleasure.

his hand cups my cheek, pulling my face back to look at him. his thumb pulls my bottom lip from my teeth.

“let me hear those pretty sounds. let me know how good i make you feel.” he grunts out, his voice tight.

“yes, sir.” i comply, letting my moans leave my lips freely as i grind down on him, bouncing on his cock, leaning forward towards him in order to achieve a new angle.

he buries his face in my neck, leaving open mouthed kisses and suckling on the spot he knows makes me squirm. his hands slide up my hips and waist, pulling at the satin and tugging the top of my nightdress down to free my tits. he grips them in his hands, his thumbs circling my perked nipples, before he pinches them, making me whimper.

he pinches and prods at the jewelry thats runs through my nipples, and i pick up my pace, grinding down harder and bouncing faster. he uses his hands on my chest to push me up, leaning forward to bring my left nipple into his mouth, sucking on it and letting his teeth graze it. my back arches, a shiver running down my spine at the feeling.

“yes!” i call out, my hips stuttering as the knot grows in my gut once more. he picks up on my tell, taking this time to switch his mouth to my right breast as he thrusts up into me.

his tongue swirls my nipple as he sucks, and i clench around him. his hand leaves my breast to sneak in between us, using his middle finger to circle my bundle of nerves. he continues to thrust up shallowly as i bounce on him, and i can feel my climax quickly approaching.

his lips leave my breast and he looks back at my face, my eyes rolling back in my head at the intense pleasure i'm overcome with.

“look at you, taking me so well.” he coos. “such a good girl, aren't you?”

“yes.” i nod quickly, my hand rising to grip my breast in attempt to ground myself from the euphoria that's clouds my mind.

“bouncing on my dick like my own personal puck bunny.” he snickers. my other hand falls to his abdomen, and i can feel his abs tighten at the touch.

“yours.” i mutter out through the pleasure, his finger speeding up on my clit. “all yours.”

“who's pussy is this?” he uses his free hand to grab at my face, forcing me to look at him.

“yours.” i repeat.

“that's right.” he mutters. “this pussy belongs to me. only i can make you feel this good, isn't that right?”

“yes, sir.” i nod again, my eyes squeezing shut as i feel myself teetering on the edge, my movement stuttering again as i shudder.

he pulls me forward, his lips ghosting the shell of my ear as he whisipers, lust dripping from his voice.

“come for me.”

i let go at his words, my breath halting as my orgasm washes over me. my vision goes pitch black, stars dancing through it as he bucks his hips up, his finger never stopping on my clit as he fucks me through my release.

i open my eyes when i come back down to earth, panting to bring oxygen back into my lungs. but John is ruthless, flipping us over so that he hovers over me.

he plunges back into me, pushing his hand against my stomach, feeling himself deep within me. he thrusts fast and hard, grinding himself against my overstimulated clit.

i whimper, not sure if i can take any more, but he doesn't stop.

“one more.” he assures me. “you'll be fine.”

my fingers grip at his back, surely leaving red scratches down it as i attempt to pull him closer. one of my hands slides down to settle on his ass, bucking my hips up to meet his.

“that's it. you can do it.” he smirks, his words barely audible over the sound of our skin clapping against each other. my moans and whimpers echo throughout the bedroom, tears pricking at my eyes from the amount of pleasure coursing through me.

“John.” i breath, the sounds of his grunts like music to my ears.

“yeah, baby.” he dips down to press a kiss to my lips. “i'm right here.”

i can feel his hips stutter, his thrusts getting sloppier as he gets closer and closer to his finish, and my own stomach gets tight as i get close to mine.

“come inside me.” i whisper against his lips. “fill me up.”

his pace falters at my words and he leans his forehead against mine. his thumb drops down to my clit, rubbing fast circles against it and my face goes red as i clench around him, reaching my second climax. he lazily pumps in and out a few more times before his lips part and a moan drops from them as he reaches his own orgasm.

he falls on top of me, both of us panting to catch our breath, his bare chest againt my exposed breasts. his weight helps ground me back to the moment, and it's only a minute later that he rolls off of me.

he lies beside me on his side, his fingers dancing across the red satin that covers my abdomen for a moment before he stands.

“i'll be right back, baby.” he doesn't bother getting dressed, walking into the bathroom to clean himself up, prior to returning with a washcloth, soaked with warm water.

he kneels on the end of the bed, prying my still shaking legs apart and cleaning me up with the towel, my hips bucking slightly at the feeling. he laughs at my movement, before throwing the washcloth into the hamper in the corner of my room.

pulling his boxers back on, he stalks out of the room, disappearing for a few minutes. he returns with a bottle of water and a granola bar, handing me both. once i have the items in my grasp, he pulls the top of my nightdress back up to cover my boobs.

as he climbs back into the bed, i scoot over so that i'm no longer in the middle of the mattress, allowing him his own side.

he waits for me to take a few sips of the water before he sets it on the nightstand for me. laying down on his back, he pulls me towards him and pulls my leg to rest over his abdomen.

we're silent as i eat the granola bar, his hand rubbing aimlessly up and down my thigh. i hand him the wrapper when i'm done and he sets it beside the water bottle before his hand returns to my thigh.

“John?” i whisper, scared to break the peace, and afraid of his reaction to my next words. he hums in interest, looking down to meet my eyes. “i don't wanna fuck around anymore.”

his brows thread together in confusion, no doubt thinking this was an odd time for me to call off our situationship after being so needy with him just moments ago.

“what do you mean?” he questions, his tone thoroughly confused.

“i mean, i want more.” i admit. “i need more. and if you don't want that too, then that's fine. but i need you to let go of this hold you have on me if you don't want more with me.”

he's quiet, staring deep into my eyes, and i brace myself for him to break my heart, but his next words cause my heart to skip a beat instead.

“i don't wanna leave this bed.” he confesses. “i don't wanna leave you.

“i really like you, y/n. and i'd really like if you'd let me be your boyfriend.”

a grin spreads across my face as i nod.

“yeah, i think i'd like that a lot.” i tell him, straining my neck up to press a kiss to his lips.

“good. now, you wore me out, i'm ready to sleep.” he chuckles, grabbing the remote to my LED lights and turninng them off, leaving us in peaceful darkness.

“i wore you out?!” i laugh, smacking his chest lightly.

“uh, yeah. you're a fiend.” he smiles, cheekily grabbing at my ass.

“me?! you made me come twice!” he waves his hand in dismissal at my words.

“semantics.”

“ugh, you and your big words.” i roll my eyes playfully, burying my head in his neck as he covers us with the blanket thats now bunched up beside him. “mr. Harvard graduate.”

“babe, thats not even a big word.” he laughs as i press a finger to his mouth to shush him.

“semantics.”

[prettypinkporkchop]

can you please write a story about reader becoming friends with renesme and bella loses self control and she tries to attack reader and she finds out about the vampires and such and then jared imprints on her and she’s scared when he shifts and he calms her down and explains everything. end it how you want queen! love your writing!

"Kiss, marry, or kill?" Renesmee shows you a picture of a celebrity.

You make a stank face and shake your head. "Fuck no. Kill." You burst into laughter when she does too.

"How about this one?" She pulls up a picture of her and Jake.

You side eye her with a smile. "Really?" You laugh.

"Be honest!" She giggles, softly hitting your knee.

"Kill. Because he has more of your attention than I do." You roll your eyes.

"You're so clingy!" She groans playfully.

"You started it. You HAD to compliment my shirt during my shift and then HAD to give me your number."

She rolls her eyes and then clicks her tongue, shaking her head.

"All you!" You shove her.

Stops and stares at her bedroom door. "Jacob and his friends are here." She says and stands up.

"Uh, how do you know? I hear crickets." You giggle.

She ignores you and excitedly takes your hand. "You're going to love them!"

As you get to the bottom stairs, you see a bunch of people outside through the glass. It's pale and tan skin that fill up your sight. You're overwhelmed by the bunch.

Your shoes touch the grass as you reach the group of people.

"Y/n, hey." Jacob waves at you. He then grabs Renesmee and kisses her cheek.

"Hey!" You reply.

Your mind can't even register what happened because you just randomly end up with a cold hand around your throat. You feel someone behind you, snarling like an animal.

"Bella!" Everyone grabs her off of you.

Next thing you know, there are wolves lined up. Carlisle and Edward are holding a struggling Bella.

Renesmee and Jacob grab onto you. "Hey, it's okay!" Renesmee whispers.

"What in the holy hell fire is going on?" You yell.

"UGH, I told you not to bring any outsiders in." Jacob scolds Renesmee.

You look over at the wolves that are threatening Bella. They're growing and circling her. You look at one wolf who is staring at you. Dark brown fur. He's a beauty.

His eyes won't tear away from yours. You catch yourself not wanting to move them either. Who is this??

"Well, that makes things easier." Jacob said.

You turn to him in a panic. "What is going on?!" You scream.

"Look, we're leaving you with that wolf. You're safe. We have to get Bella out of here." Jacob replies.

Next thing you know, you're standing outside with a gigantic wolf a few yards away from you. It got quiet when everyone went inside. The wolf takes a step closer but you move backwards.

"No, stay. Over there." You say shaken up.

The wolf huffs and walks away. Leaving you by yourself. You turn toward the house to see everyone fighting and yelling, and then you see Bella literally throw Jasper. Alright. This is your cue to run.

You start going. Leaving the trail. You've got to get home. But warm arms grab you. You scream and try to get out of the grip.

"Hey, you're okay. You're okay." You see the most hottest guy in the world. You're breathing rapidly and your anxiety is still high. But looking at him got you a bit calmer.

"My name is Jared. I know who you are. Let me take you home, okay? I've got you." He gently rubs your arms.

You feel his skin send electricity down your body. You shiver and blush at the contact. "Yeah, thank you." You breathe out in relief.

The walk home was interesting. He had explained everything to you. You've been joking with him and flirting, taking things not too seriously because of how safe he made you feel. It was crazy but you're just glad you didn't freaking die.

"A hot wolf is my soulmate? Sure." You step up the steps to get to your front door.

"No, I'm serious." He softly grabs your elbow to stop you.

You turn and look at Jared. His toned arms and tan skin oh save you.

"I can live with that." You smile.

"Good, because I'm not going anywhere." He smiles.

[luvfy0dor]

“Made Your Mark on Me, a Golden Tattoo ♡ ” Chuuya Nakahara x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; perchance ooc, profanity once

Description; Coloring in Chuuyas tattoos!

A/n; My friend and I were talking about cute romance scenarios today and she brought this up, so I wanted to write about it with Chuuyas because I think he would have tattoos. If someone has done this please tell me, I know I've seen a handful of fics with scenarios like this, but I can't remember any were in the BSD fandom or not.

ೃ⁀➷

Chuuya has a handful of tattoos, they're all really intricate and professionally done, but none of them are colored. That gives you the perfect opportunity to add your own creative twist on the art pieces. After rummaging through yours and Chuuya's shared home, not a single non-permanent marker could be found. You sighed, but ventured out to retrieve some.

After a long and treacherous journey to the store and back, you tossed the box of markers onto the counter. You couldn't help but feel giddy waiting for your husband to come back home so you could pitch the idea to him. A part of you thought he might say no, but you suppressed that with all your might and looked forward to his return with hope. You waited on the couch, scrolling through your phone. He shouldn't take too long, but every minute felt like ten to you in this moment.

Before you knew it, you heard the rustle of keys and the clicks of the locks. You jumped up from your spot on the couch, staring at Chuuya as he shuffles into the house and out of the relatively chilly and rainy weather. He lets out a sigh of relief before turning to you with a small smile. "Hey honey, how was your day?" He takes off his shoes, hat, and jacket, putting them in their designated spot as he waits for your reply. "It was pretty good, how was yours?" You ask. Upon being situated, he makes his way towards you, grabbing your hands and placing a soft pec on your lips. "The usual, kind of annoying, it feels like no one ever knows what they're doin', you know?" He says, seemingly happy to be home. You nod and understanding and rub his shoulder.

"Yeah, that sucks." You say. He nods, peeks into the kitchen for a second, and sits down on the couch, slouching back and patting the seat next to him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, slightly revealing one of his tattoos. You take the hint and sit next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. Your fingers push his sleeve up a little more, tracing the outlines of the imagery. "These are pretty colorless, huh?" You say, glancing at him. He grins a little and nods. "Is this what those markers on the counter are for?" He asks, making you smile. "Yeah, do you care if I color them? I'm relatively good at keeping things inside the lines." You say, sitting up completely.

"I don't see why not. I should probably take this off, huh?" He says, starting to undo the buttons on his vest and then shirt in order to give you better access to his tattoos. You skittered into the kitchen, grabbing the markers and coming back to your husbands side. You gently opened the cardboard packaging before assessing your canvas. The first tattoo you wanted to color in was one of a very intricate flower, so you decided red would be a pretty option. Chuuya watches as you uncap the marker out of the corner of his eye. Your tongue pokes from the corner of your lip in concentration as you drag the marker along his skin, filling in the outlines.

You eventually fill a majority of the flower petals, moving onto the stem. You choose the green marker, holding the underside of Chuuyas arm while you color it. "You're doing a great job there, doll." He says, observing your near perfect coloring skills. "You should get them filled in like this." You joke, picking out another color for a different section. The hums quietly before nodding. "Maybe I will." You look up at him, a bit of surprise on your face. "What's with the look of shock, darlin'? Do you think I won't?" He asks, his head tilted to the side. You shake your head.

"I believe you will, I just think that's sweet." You say, making your new goal to make the colors pretty but unique. He watches the television while you work, making sure that your work contained as much love and effort as possible. After a while, Chuuya started to realize he's feeling the markers on tattoo-less areas. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked towards what you were doodling on his arm. He saw a variety of stars and flowers of your own. They were rather small, and Chuuya thought it was cute that you were making even more additions to his body art.

"You'll have to take pictures of these for me." He says. You hum in acknowledgement and finish up the flower you were doodling before capping the marker and returning it to its rightful spot in the box. You grab Chuuyas phone, opening it and taking a picture of the colors before handing the device back to him. He kisses your cheek in thanks before pulling you back into his side, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Thank you." He turns his head towards you. "What for?"

You look back down at all the colorful doodles. "For letting me borderline vandalize your arm." You playfully say, running your fingertips over his skin. "Don't be silly, it's not vandalizing, it's more of a lawful mural." He reaffirms while looking into your pretty eyes. "And it's cute stuff. It's not like you drew a dick or nothin'." He states, keeping you cuddled closely to him. You smile and give his hand a small squeeze before bringing his knuckles to your lips. "Yeah, you're right." You say with a small laugh. "Still though, thank you." He hums. "Ofcourse, doll, anytime you want."

A/n; I need the evermore ornaments SO badly. I NEEEEEDDDDD them. I'm gonna cry THE CONEY ISLAND ONE IM FJSJAKKAKS oh also thought I'd post a little more Chuuya before I post a ton of Fyodor because I got two asks revolving around him (I'm actually bouncing off the walls im so happy) and I've been talking up some ideas with a mutual : )

[echoalyssa]

Heyy! Can I get a super angsty Marcus baker x reader? Like one where they’re dating but then finds out he slept with Ginny? If you don’t like that then do something you’d like to write but just angsty. Thank youuuu 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Marcus Baker but He's a Cheater | Request

Abby is sprawled on your bed, head dangling off the side of it. Her feet are kicked up onto your headboard and she's scrolling through TikTok.

Although she is only scrolling so that it looks like she isn't eavesdropping. You had been trying to call Marcus for the last two hours. He'd just dropped off the face of the earth and unfortunately this hadn't been normal for him until recently.

The voicemail message plays again and you sigh into the receiver.

"Marcus where are you? We talked about this. You have to communicate with me! Call me back. Please!"

You end the call and hit the call button again.

Abby tilts her head to look at you, sensing the stress radiating off of you.

It rings. And rings. And rings some more.

Your best friend rolls off of the bed and snatches the phone from your hand.

"Hey!"

She leaps onto the bed, holding your phone above her head. "Where is he normally when he disappears like this?"

"His house."

"So you're telling me we could just walk across the street and get an answer out of him?"

For how tiny your best friend is, there's a lot of fire within her.

She hops off the bed and shoves your phone into her back pocket. "Do you want me to come with you?"

You shake your head no at her and slip on your shoes. Abby runs a brush through your hair and then practically shoves you out of your own room and down the hall.

The walk to his house seems to drag, like time doesn't quite want to move.

His front door is open. The two of you had been together long enough that you didn't have to knock anymore. His parent's cars aren't in the driveway and the house is quiet.

You hesitate outside his door, just long enough to hear it.

He moans and something hits the wall.

The sound is repetitive and your heart turns cold inside your chest. You know what's happening but you don't want to know.

You push the door open just slightly with your fingertips.

"Oh Marcus!"

Her back is to you but you know who it is. How could you not? Everything had been going wrong since she moved here.

She's straddling his lap, bouncing up and down with her head thrown back.

His fingers are tight on her hips and he's biting his lip.

You want to sink into the floor and disappear right then and there. This was some nasty nightmare that you'd wake up from soon. Right?

He whispers her name and then pulls her down to press his lips against hers.

It feels like there's a pool of acid in your stomach, just swirling around.

You back up, your back hits the wall of the hallway with a thud and the two go quiet.

"What was that?" She asks.

"It sounds like..."

The door swings open fully and there's Marcus, standing in front of you completely naked.

He stares at you and you stare at him.

Someone's crying but you can't figure out who's crying.

He ducks his head and you realize that you're the one crying. Ugly sobbing loud enough that you gave yourself away.

She appears behind him, snaking an arm around his waist with a grin.

"What are you doing here?" He chokes out.

You are desperately trying to even out your heaving breaths. Nothing works though, none of those stupid color breathing exercises can help you now.

Your hand stings and Ginny screams.

"Wait Y/N-"

"Don't!" You yell at him.

You take off, away from him and from her. Because maybe if you just run fast enough it will all go away.

You burst through the door to your room, startling Abby so badly that she almost falls off the bed.

You slam the door shut and press your back to it, sliding down slowly.

"Y/N?"

"I slapped her."

"Who? Who did you slap?"

You let your head fall forward so that it rests on your knees. "Ginny."

She gasps. "The Ginny?"

"The only Ginny." You whisper.

Abby sits down next to you and rubs your back. She doesn't pry she just lets you cry on her and eventually tell her what you had to witness.