#but some of these really did have so much wasted potential

[yourislandgirl]

⍣*°:⋆ THIS AIN’T NO PHASE ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ || OT7 엔하이픈 x fem!reader || headcanons

summary: how enhypen would act as reader’s down bad classmate

genre: fluff, romance, non-idol!enhypen x non-idol!reader, somewhat high school au except it’s not that in-depth, lowkey enha as simps

warnings: can’t think of anything major, attempts at humour, intentional lowercase btw

[archive]

・❥・ 희승 // heeseung

totally the show off type, he sneaks glances at you after he accomplishes something on the first try to make sure you noticed (will end up sulking for like an hour if you were looking elsewhere)

learns new skills just to show you, like you’ll offhandedly mention something about the bass guitar in a new viral song and within a week he’ll have learnt it by sneaking into the school’s music room and using their bass. he has no clue when, if ever, he’ll get the chance to show you, but if that time comes, he’ll be prepared

definitely the kind of guy that likes testing the waters with pick up lines and lowkey flirting, he also knows he’s attractive — which is always bad news when the guy knows — so he would totally give you a beautiful smile and a corny joke of some kind, his eyes darting back and forth to study your reaction

never wanted to make a fool of himself around you until the one time he embarrassed himself a little and you let out the most enchanting laugh, he swears the skies parted. from then on, it didn’t always matter to him how he looked and presented himself, he became less critical of himself, because if he could make you smile, or better yet, laugh? that would make his day

more under cut!

・❥・ 종성 // jay

much more of a conversationalist than you’d expect — totally starts unprompted conversations on various topics just to hear your perspective and he always asks for your opinion because it means the most to him, except . sometimes you have no opinion on some of the things he asks, so there’s just this odd silence afterwards

will usually have homecooked meals that he makes himself or has leftovers from super expensive restaurants that your other classmates have been waiting months to get a reservation to, and he always shares that food with you, like your entire friend group would get their share but he’d save the best part for you and he always asks if you liked it afterwards because he's storing that information away for potential future dates

there are far too many times he “accidentally” bought an extra snack or dessert from the cafeteria and, well, we wouldn’t want that to go to waste now, would we? so he’ll just casually slide it over to you, like it’s the most normal thing to do

very acts of service, all you’d need to do is just grumble under your breath about your pen being shitty and almost out of ink and he’s bringing out his two best pens and handing them to you. or say you guys are doing an experiment in your chemistry class, he’s immediately getting all the equipment, you don’t need to move at all, (oh, but, he loves following your lead for the actual experiment — the kind of guy that goes “whatever you wanna do”, to which you’d reply “um, technically it’s not up to me, jay. if we do these steps out of order, we could blow up the classroom” . “oh, right”)

・❥・ 재윤 // jake

really giggly around you, like, really giggly. everything you say is hilarious to this man. stand up comedy who? he’d actually be so amusing about it too, like bro is randomly chuckling in a class where you’re not even there, just because he remembered something you said

he once tried the move of asking you for help in class. except you rightfully pointed out that he knew much more about the current topic than you did, you had no idea what he expected to learn from you — he then realised the better option is to ask you if he can double check his work or “compare notes”

the first time he caught a mistake/typo in your work, he felt a little bad for pointing it out, but he quickly came to appreciate the clear view of your concentration face when you tried to redo your answer. he'll be constantly flicking his gaze up and back down, trying to keep his eyes on his notebook but ends up tapping his pen against the empty page while he admires the way you furrow your brows while you think

always asks if you’re coming to the school’s soccer game (or football, i guess, i’m australian and we call it soccer) anyway, he spends like five minutes before every game dedicated for scanning the crowd to see if you’re there — if you do ever decide to go, know that your presence is completely unrelated to how he just so happened to score the most goals out of his team . completely

・❥・ 성훈 // sunghoon

stares a lot, but he naturally zones out in class (to the point where teachers ask why he’s staring off into space) so you don’t always question it, except it’s clearly the best excuse he has to keep staring at you

not really outspoken but he definitely would be the type to mutter the most cringe fail jokes to the people around him and takes it as a personal victory every time you scoff out a small chuckle, has a mental list of the kinds of jokes you find funny because man is studying the trends to come up with new material

without realising, he would end up having your schedule memorised, and would totally use that knowledge to his advantage. say your science class is before his — bro is bolting out the door to get to the classroom in time to say a quick “hi” before you leave, he does it so often that you’re convinced he has PE before science, because there’s no other explanation for why every time you see him, this guy is winded like he finished a race (except for the fact that he ran halfway across the school campus for a five second interaction)

would be heavily invested in whatever you take an interest in, he doesn’t even have to understand it, he just wants to know about it because of you. say you’re current interest is modernist literature, he’d snag the perfect opportunity to ask you to explain it to him and let you ramble to your hearts content while he stares at you with the most soft expression, and he isn’t zoning out this time, he’s just pleasantly distracted by the view

・❥・ 선우 // sunoo

would be the type to find the smallest common interest and be convinced that it means your destined to be. like, you could mention something in passing like a show or something, and if he stumbles across it in his recommendations? dude is ecstatic . because what do you mean the universe just happened to show him the exact piece of media you’re obsessed with? (you’re not, it’s literally your most casual interest, but bro is convinced)

he wouldn’t hesitate to compliment you, like he would openly admire your hair if you do something new with it, or if he hears you talk about the new earrings you’re wearing he’d turn around to look at them and give you that nod of approval and say something about how it frames your face nicely, zero shame in what others would think from his forwardness

more subdued when it’s just the two of you, he usually rants about whatever random shenanigans are going on around your school, things that he’s heard or seen, usually retold with editorial humour and a lot of sidebar comments that you wouldn’t be able to help but laugh at, definitely keeps adding to the joke until your sides are hurting from laughing together, he probably has it marked in his calendar on the day he made you laugh so hard your eyes shone with tears a little bit (an achievement in his books)

more subtle when it comes to something as risky as asking you out, he’d try and play it off as simply recommending a certain cafe or a certain movie and if he just so happened to imply that you two should go together, well, that was just out of politeness, of course … unless?

・❥・ 정원 // jungwon

spits out random facts and genuinely believes that they’re the stepping stone to developing a relationship with you (while you sit there confused, because how do the surprise donuts your teacher brought even remotely relate to camels and their ability to drink 200L of water in three minutes??)

i think he would like trying to create a routine with you, something familiar, something that will remind you of him — maybe if you guys sit near each other, he’d always take both your workbooks to the teacher out front for you. or if there’s this special dessert at your cafeteria that he knows you like, he’ll split it with you every time it’s offered. he seems like the type that would find reminders of you in even the smallest of things so he just wishes to create a connection where you’ll feel the same

always sends you the notes when you’re missing from class, his notes aren’t exactly the neatest but they are funny. he adds like little doodles and comments (mostly for himself tbh, he'd add things like “just think of integration as differentiation’s older brother” in the margins of his maths notes or something). honestly, he had considered rewriting them neatly for you, but after you initiated a conversation about the mutilation of a portrait he did of your teacher, well, he figured any chance to talk to you wouldn’t hurt

the kind of guy who will try and send you signals through music and song lyrics, like if you post a certain song on your story, he’d pick the same song but choose a different lyric to play on his story, something more romantically coded. or if you talk about a new artist you’re listening too, he’ll find their most romantic song and say that’s his favourite and asks you listen because he thinks you’ll like it

・❥・ 리키 // ni-ki

very quiet, you’d probably think he was mute if it wasn’t for his low acknowledgment of presence when the teacher takes the attendance. the biggest rush he gets out of his day is when he says a couple words to you in your shared classes. it would always be really quick conversations too, he’d mutter about the teacher being uptight, or complain about the worksheet being printed in black and white instead of in colour, or ask you if you’re cold before getting up to shut the window next to your desks — small, but meaningful

the type to walk up and down the same hallway five times before working up the courage to enter the room you’re in. if you asked him why he did that he’d straight up be like “that wasn’t me. anyway…” adksajd so it’s safe to say he seems a little odd but charming and he’s counting on that charm to help him pull through and land at least a movie date

super competitive in PE class and it’s like a switch will flip and he’s suddenly more suave and confident when he’s in that element so expect a lot of random sidebar conversations while you guys do warm up stretches, he’d totally be the kind of guy to walk past you and drop one of the water bottles near you before walking off to his friends, definitely brushes his hair back like twenty times, gives unsolicited advice on how you can throw better or kick better or whatever it is depending on the sport, you’d be like “[raised eyebrow] i still scored didn’t i?” and he’d backtrack so fast it would be hilarious

has definitely sketched you before, let’s be real. half the time he spends in art class is sketching you in his personal sketchbook — he’d be smart enough to not draw your face (at least in the book he brings to school), it would be something like your side profile but it’s off centre so any other person would think the main focus of his sketch is the window which you sit beside, but to him, the main focus is you. he’d sketch anything he associates with you too, say for example if you mentioned your favourite flower just casually, he’d have a whole page dedicated to various sketches of that flower, no one else would really be able to tell what all his sketches mean, they’re like puzzle pieces that only you’d be able to put together

a.n: this took a while (been so distracted by numerous diff fandoms and a little sad bcs of mama awards but wtv) this is dedicated to my lovely mootie @sheepsgf !! the indescribable beauty that was jungwon’s solo intro in mama will forever live in my head btw, but i figured i’ve done three posts for won already aksjdjs time to do an ot7 one bcs i love them all and they’ve worked so hard !!

taglist: @oceanstide — @sheepsgf

2024 © yourislandgirl

[emjee]

Okay I’ve done enough sitting and staring at walls processing Wicked to say things about it now. Behold, the bullet points:

- I have now seen enough of Jon Chu’s work to expect the cutting to closeups during dance numbers when all I want is a wide shot of people all doing the same footwork, and because I was expecting it it annoyed me less.

- The poor lighting balance with some of the backlighting did bug me though; even if it was intentional I found it annoying

- That said!! These are minor quibbles! ESPECIALLY considering how much movie musicals have the potential to really suck. Do you know what absolute shitshows I have wasted three hours of my life on? This is not one of those.

- I simply cannot believe how good Ariana Grande was in this role. I was so fucking skeptical. I take it all back; I was unfamiliar with her game. Holy shit. And she and Cynthia Erivo have fantastic chemistry.

- Actually I’d say there’s not a weak point in the case (if there is it’s maaaaaaaaybe Jeff Goldblum, but that’s partially because I’ve never been a fan of his schtick).

- I’m having a phase in my life where I just want to look at Jonathan Bailey’s face a lot so this was great for that and he’s as incredible as he always is. Watching him dance is just an utter delight. I hope this movie makes him so much money that he can spend the rest of his career doing literally whatever projects he wants. I will watch all of them.

- also Glen Weldon described him on Pop Culture Happy Hour as “insultingly handsome” and yeah. Glen coming through with the phrasing as always.

- As much as I wore out my cast recording as a youth, I actually think Wicked’s biggest strength has always been its script so I am thrilled that Winnie Holzman was the screenwriter because it made the additions seamless and they kept all my favorite lines.

- I’ll say it again: if the show is very dear to you this movie really does feel like it loves its source material just like you do, so I’d recommend you go see it.

- I also second everyone who said “gayer than the stage production.” It’s great.

[harleyification]

I gotta put my frustrations somewhere, but I still cannot BELIEVE that Legend of Korra put in the fact that Kuvira made "REEDUCATION CAMPS" for water and firebender people/ethnicities, and this fucking dictator only got a smack on the hand as well as a redemption arc in the fucking comics.

They literally said she did That. And I'm supposed to sit here and think that she was worthy of being given a second chance all because she ratted out her own people.

What. The fuck.

[bmpmp3]

the epic highs and lows of trying to read an ongoing shounen manga

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Spiritual Siblings

Bruce: My assassin kid can't be that normal!

Damian: Well, I’m completely emotionally stable by Amity Park standards. The problem is with you. Obviously.

~~~~~

Damian had long found peace and home in Amity, so he did not worry that the new family and Gotham might not accept him.

Sure, Al Ghul had lived without any contact with his biological father all these years but he could safely say that he had a happy childhood. First years were hard and he was raised more as a weapon than a human being. Even so, after that a ghost who decided to become his brother appeared and everything changed.

Damian still does not know what Ra's owes Phantom but Danny has a right to take him, without prior notification, to live with Fentons, to visit Aunt Alicia at her farm, and to make Vlad’s weekends much less calm and boring. Danny jokes that he just steals him as a hostage when Al Ghul does not pay taxes for using Lazarus Pits. Whatever the reason, he already has a family that loves him.

However, he still wanted to make an effort to fit in this one too. The model of conduct certainly was his older brother. No, not the oldest, of course. To be honest Dan wasn’t the kind of a man that could charm you from the first minute. But Danny, in Damian’s experience, had a calming effect on people. So he tried to act like him.

And, yeah, for lack of experience, he was more fun!Danny at home and super!Danny on patrol but he also really tried not to get any of his own assassin personality in his new-self and was tired of it. He couldn’t get a 100% match. Fine. Still doesn’t look like anyone in this house really likes him, so whatever.

Damian understood why Bruce didn't like his company. Jazz had long ago explained to him the importance of voluntary consent. His mother did a terrible thing. Al Ghul was not a child and therefore he was ready to admit it. However, he also understood that children were not responsible for the actions of their parents.

As a biosocial being, he wanted to be more than just a painful reminder of what had happened to Bruce. Wayne's ignoring of his existence was rude. But Damian wouldn't force this man to spend time with him just because he was legally obligated to take care of his well-being. He wasn't going to prove anything to Batman, and he definitely didn't need his attention. The care of his real family is enough.

But Damian really tried to get along with new potential siblings. He even shared Sam's and Danny’s special jokes with some of adopted kids 'cause he didn’t want them to feel like he put himself above them. He wasn't good at showing emotions but he was as open as the assassin could afford to be to strangers.

But they all obviously expected something from him. And it reminded him of the League in an unpleasant way. It was easier with Fentons. Almost everyone in Amity Park was saying what they thought, and Damian didn’t have to waste time decoding potential conspiracies.

Damian missed movie marathon nights with Sam, Tucker, and Danny. And he hoped Dani had time to bother Vlad in his absence.

It was so weird here. When Danny and Valerie were fighting, they would gather at the dinner table anyway. When Damian wanted to have combat training with Drake here, he was forced to stay in his room. A very strange punishment. And undeserved one too.

Al Ghul felt quite calm and fine sitting at his easel and painting the people he left behind. An unusual subject for his paintings. But, Ancients, he missed Amity.

He missed Jack's bone breaking hugs, Maddie's Ecto-Contaminated food, arguments of Sam and Tucker, cozy art class with Mr. Baxter and even Vlad's done look. He missed Danny telling him about the stars. He also missed sword practice with Dan's boyfriend Fright Knight and he missed Dan's stories about his other youth. He missed literary evenings with Mr. Lancer, Clockwork and Ghost Writer. He even missed the hours-long Jazz lectures. He missed the dance of death and life. He missed being looked at without expecting anything from him. He missed the crowd. In the league, he was never at one with himself and in Amity he was always surrounded by people who were not afraid of his fate as the heir to the said League. This Manor was full of people, but for the first time in his life he felt lonely. Damian has to admit that he felt left behind. Of course, he understood that people needed time to build relationships, but he could have sworn that even he didn't need that much time to connect with Fentons. Maybe this is one of the tricks of the Clockwork? Then this one is not funny at all.

~~~~~Phone call~~~~ Damian: Mom, I want to go home. Maddie: I'm so sorry to hear that, sweetheart. What happened? Damian: Just…Nobody likes me. Why was I sent here? I'm not weak. And my brothers are quite capable of protecting me from Raas. I don't need Batman for this. Maddie: We'll figure it out, champ. Moms love you, remember? I'll talk to Talia, okay? Your brothers and sisters are already on edge and ready to steal you right during the patrol. Damian: It would be nice, but it would put a bat on their tails. So lock them in thermoses if they bother you too much. Maddie: But that won't stop Jazz. Damian: I missed the part where that's my problem. Maddie: Well, it will be your problem if she comes to your doorstep with your childhood photos and moralizing.

~~~~~~~~

It's his birthday. And he was always excited about it. But now, looking at the pile of gifts, he realizes that these people don't know him at all.

And this is the family of the best detective in the world? Maybe yes, but none of them bothered to really find info about him or ask him about his likes. Damian's a stranger here, and that's obvious.

The lunch container, which he will obviously give to the Boxing Lunch when he's in the right time interval, tennis rackets that Youngblood might like, The Graveyard Book…

Valerie had already read it to him and Dani before it was published. Thanks to Clockwork for his little miracles. The book reminded him of home.

Obviously this one is from Jason. And well, Damian doesn't think it was a pun on his life in Amity, more like Hood's inside joke about death but Dami will definitely leave this thing in the room at the Manor and maybe take it with him to the GZ or Amity Park.

~~~~~~~

When they gather at the festive table, Damian realizes that he has to make some kind of speech. He tries to be as brief as possible in his report.

Damian: Todd, your gift is appreciated. And I found a potential use for items that were given by others, Bruce.

Damian never called Batman his father. With Maddie and Talia, calling both moms wasn't weird, especially when Jazz explained to his biological mom that he wasn't trying to replace her. But with Wayne, it was different. Both women took care of him, they deserved this title. Wayne provided for his needs, but his core heart didn't feel like they were close. Surely there's nothing wrong if they're just Bruce and Damian? Obviously, they both don't enjoy each other's company.

Jason: So, do you like books, little demon? Damian: Sometimes reading is quite relaxing, I should point out. I'm not indifferent to Stephen King and Lovecraft. Jason: Personal recommendations? Damian: Cujo is one of my favorites. Jason: Not a common opinion, huh. Damian: It reminds me of my family. Damian tries to smile like Danny does, but Jason's twitching eye clearly indicates that he screwed it up.

~~~~Dick and Jason synchronously drop their forks as an excuse for a conference under the table.~~~~ Dick*whispers*: How's the situation? Jason*whispers back*: If the boy asks for a dog, don't be fooled. He will be happy to dance on our graves.

~~~~Cass knocks over their heads, urging them to return to their seats.~~~~

Damian: So how good you are at fading and sliding,Todd? Jason: Why did you ask? I can't, of course. Damian: Because you're dead. It seemed to me that this was a completely understandable interest. Jason: Wow, what a jerk. Damian: I wonder why your own incompetence makes me a jerk? Even my sister could do this when she wasn't dead for even a month.

Jason, for some reason, looks awkward, although he has never been embarrassed before by the idea that a girl could be stronger than him.

Jason: Your sister? How old was she when... So it's all about age. Damian rolls his eyes.

Damian: We're the same age. It seems like it was four or five years ago. To be honest, I don't remember. I wasn't around then. I'll ask Danielle the next time I go to the cemetery to visit her. Dick: I'm so sorry, Dami. Where is she buried? We can take you. Damian: There's no need. She has no grave, as there was nothing to bury. Bruce sighs loudly and covers his eyes with his hands. Damian: It's just easier to contact the afterlife in places like this, you now? Duke: We are very sorry, dude. Damian: Don't be. People come and go, and then come back if they haven't finished annoying you. There's no point in regretting the past. Her creation was not the most ethical thing but everything is going as it should. At least that's what Grandpa says. Considering that the old man is older than time, I prefer to believe him. No one plays with fate without his permission unless they want to get hit by the clock. Tim now looks like he's going to throw up and Damian hurries to move his plate closer to him. Jason: Yes, Bruce, this is definitely your son. Damian: Did I say something wrong? Dick smiles faintly at him but still doesn't find anything to say. Damian shrugs and goes back to eating asparagus. People outside of Amity are so weird.

Signal looks at Damian suspiciously as he carefully rearranges the plate of soy sausages away from himself. Did he take him for an idiot? Everyone knows that even vegetarian sausage bite and fight no worse than those with meat when they come back to life. It's not Damian's fault that he doesn't have an ectoblast with him and wants to have extra distance from the opponent.

~~~At the same time, in the walls of Wayne Manor~~~ Dani: The operation codenamed "Get Haunted Idiot" is declared open. Danny and Dan *salute*.

~~~Several Days Later~~~

Damian: So, this is Dan. Danny says we keep him as a GIW repeller. Dick: And Danny and Dan are.. Jazz: His brothers. I'm Jazz by the way. Elle and I are his sisters. Damian: I feat the criteria to participate in their name cult, so they took me. Dan, Danny, Dani and Dami. Dan *ruffles Damian's hair* : I prefer to call this biting threat Damn, to be honest. Dami: Shut up, DaNtE, they almost wrote Dark in your passport, you idiot. I can't believe I thought I missed you. Danny: Wow. Rude. Your grandpa would be disappointed. Great job, lil one.

~~~Several years later~~~

[explorevenus]

dirty laundry ♡ re6!leon kennedy x puppy hybrid!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 5.1k

tags/warnings: re6!leon, stubborn/reluctant puppy reader who pretends she hates him, brief chris redfield appearance, forced proximity (kinda), leon pining for u (he wants u to call him daddy btw), hybrid heat cycle shenanigans, thigh riding, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no use of y/n

description: leon's had a tough time figuring out his new puppy hybrid roommate... outside of the fact that she's sweet on him, and just won't admit it. lucky for leon, he comes home from a mission to find her airing her dirty laundry.

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my beloved and adored @pupthepokemonenthusiast who is one of MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON EARTH EVER ?!!!! and i luv yapping w them and that makes collaborating w them such a dream every time....

divider by @cafekitsune !!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Loose gravel crunched beneath Leon's boots, uneven pavement glittering with moisture in the streetlights. It was somewhere between raining and snowing, the wind splattering his rosy cheeks with little drops of condensation, every breath puffing out in a visible cloud, head tilted down at just the right angle to protect the lower half of his bruised face from the cold while still being able to see where he was going.

He didn't have a specific destination in mind, and truth be told, he couldn't really read most of the signage around here anyway-- it was all in Mandarin, and his Mandarin was even less reliable than his Spanish, to put it gently. But he could read what he needed to, at least, enough to find the basics like food, bathrooms, lodging, or hospitals, and more importantly, he could discern the backlit lettering above the shop two doors down; antiques and collectibles. 

That was a phrase he'd familiarized himself with in damn near every language under the sun by now. 

A bell dinged quietly overhead as he stepped into the storefront, grateful that it was even open past 9 o'clock at night. It was only one room and didn't have much space to walk around, but every available surface was stacked to the brim with knick-knacks of all shapes, colors, sizes, and price points under no apparent system of organization. Where some might be overwhelmed or put off by the volume of things to look at, Leon felt his heart skip a beat with excitement. He still had some time to kill before his transport back to the States was due to arrive, and not a single minute of it would be wasted overlooking any potential gems. 

Judging by the horrified stares he was attracting, Leon could imagine he looked fucking insane right now, clothes still splattered with wet, rotting blood and the barrel of his gun practically still smoking in his holster as he towered over a shelf in the back corner, scrutinizing a darling little plush bear in one hand and a set of hand-painted matryoshka dolls in the other like it was the hardest decision he would ever have to make. 

Ultimately, he chose not to decide at all-- money wasn't a factor, so why not buy both? If it weren't for the issue of luggage, he'd just say 'fuck it' and buy out the whole damn store. Unfortunately, helicopters tended to be quite limited in space. 

Self control was a skill Leon used to have mastered, perhaps even too well-- for a long time, every uncomfortable, unsightly, pesky little emotion was pressed down into a condensed cube to be neatly packed away in the very back corners of his brain, boxes upon boxes of dense feelings continuing to pile up and take over more and more space up there until the pressure became too much, the lid blew, and he went off the fucking handle. It wasn't something he was proud of by any means, all those long months blurred into mush through a lens of alcoholism and other reckless behaviors, but what he did try to let himself be proud of was his relative success in making it to the other side. 

That, of course, was a feat he did not accomplish without help, nor would he ever claim to. Chris Redfield was instrumental in his recovery in more ways than one, and at times, without even realizing it. He was a listening ear, a dealer of tough love, a trusted confidant...

...and the reason he had you. 

For obvious reasons, Leon had never gone out of his way to get a pet in his adult life. It just felt irresponsible with the inconsistency and uncertainty of his work situation, even with all the money in the world to spend on trainers and walkers and boarding and... whatever else, but at that point, it would feel less like a pet than an accessory, and Leon didn't have much interest in material. Never saw the need for it. Then one day Chris woke him up in the middle of the night banging on the door to his apartment with a gift he never expected.

"She's a... what?"

"A hybrid. She's a human-canine hybrid, Leon." 

Leon glanced between you and Chris with skepticism in his eyes, only to find the same look peering back at him in you. It was almost kind of funny that he'd have a hard time believing there could be such a thing as a human-canine hybrid, considering all he'd seen in his line of work, a thought that made his shoulders and his expression relax almost instantly. 

You were a real cutie, that was for sure, tucked behind Chris and staring up at Leon through your eyelashes with this grumpy little look on your face, a plush, patchwork bear clutched to your chest. The toy was equally as vibrant and colorful as your clothing, if not a bit worn with time. Your ears were long and droopy, your tail hanging low but swishing side-to-side with cautious interest, and the longer he studied you, the more he became endeared by you. 

"The B.S.A.A. rescued a group of hybrids from an illegal facility a few weeks ago, but finding accommodations for them isn't as simple as it sounds," Chris continued, resting a hand on your shoulder in an apparent move to reassure you. "Long story short, the people who were in charge of that facility aren't too happy about the acquisition, and the hybrids aren't safe at the B.S.A.A. anymore. Would you be willing to shelter her for a while?" 

The firm look in Chris' eyes-- and the fact that he just had to bring this up with you right in front of him-- made it clear he wasn't really asking. No mind, Leon would have done it anyway. It just would have been nice to have had a heads up to rectify the state of the apartment. 

"Yeah, of course," Leon nodded gently, stepping aside to allow you and Chris further into the apartment. "Make yourself at home." He caught the way your head tilted up a bit, as if you were studying the scent in the air, and he supposed it made sense that you likely were.

That was four months ago. And for the past four months, Leon quite enjoyed having you around. You were silly and playful, always bounding around the apartment with a toy clenched between your teeth or lounging in the sunny spots in front of the windows, pawing at him for belly rubs and treats and infinite tug-o-war matches. All that being said, you were equally stubborn, resisting him at every turn like magnetic repulsion, always kicking up a fuss seemingly just for the sake of it.

He wasn't sure. You were tough to read. Not only did some of your canine personality traits make you a bit forgetful and distractible at times, but you were also just terribly inconsistent with your affections, and he wasn't always sure what to make of it. All he knew was that he was determined to win you over in one way or another, and if he was going to do that, he'd have to figure you out first, and so far that was shaping up to be quite the herculean task. At least it seemed you would be here for a while. 

With the way he guarded your little treasures during the flight home, one might assume he was smuggling something, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of coming home without something to present to you. The hardened federal agent was determined to crack a smile out of you on his terms, to get you to admit what you both knew to be true. 

You had a crush on him. A big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on him, and you rejected the idea of owning up to it so staunchly that it was turning you into a bit of a brat. That was the one thing he could read about you, and it drove you up the wall. 

He certainly wasn't judging you. It would be an absurd lie to say he didn't have a big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on you too-- he'd be insane if he didn't. But the back and forth was far too enjoyable, and Leon was always up for a good natured challenge. 

See, self control was something Leon had worked really, really hard to regain a handle on, and when it came to his drinking and brooding, he certainly had... but when it came to you? Not by a longshot. That being said, he would rather be pouring himself into courting you than pouring himself another bourbon. That's what he used to shut up that little voice in the back of his head that questioned whether or not he was putting too much energy into this, banking too much on it. 

It was innocent, right? It's not like you were a bad influence or whatever. If anything, a lot of nights that he would have spent at the bar were instead being spent at home playing with you. Surely that had to be a net positive, especially considering you would have otherwise been getting poked and prodded at in a lab. 

Stepping back into the apartment for the first time in weeks, Leon hadn't even bothered bringing his duffel bag in with him from the car, the only thing in his arms being the wrinkled paper bag from that antique shop. His own belongings could wait. As soon as he shut and locked the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. 

No lively music from the shows you liked to watch, no little bumps or growls from you playing toys, no quiet padding of your feet across the hardwood from you coming to see who was at the door. He glanced at his watch, finding it was only half past nine in the evening, and while you often proclaimed to abide by a healthy bedtime for yourself, you had a habit of napping all day and bouncing off the walls all night. Something was amiss.

Stepping further into the apartment to investigate the scene, Leon peered into the living room. The lights were on, the TV was off, there were a few toys strewn about the couch and the floor, but not a glimpse of the sweet puppy who left them there. Odd. Suspicious. Maybe even staged. 

His lips came together in a whistle meant to grab your attention, knowing your sharp ears would hear it from anywhere in the apartment, even if you were sleeping. When that call garnered no response, he began to wonder if you were mad at him. After all, he was supposed to return almost three days ago, and while Chris had been able to stop by and check on you when he had the time, it just wasn't the same, and you didn't do well with loneliness, and Leon knew that. 

Turning on his heel to head deeper into the apartment, he continued to find you nowhere. Not climbing the countertops in the kitchen, or playing under the dining table, or even reluctantly having a bath. As he reached the end of the short hallway, there were only two doors left to open. 

Leon tried another whistle and called out, "Hey, pup? I'm home!" 

He waited, and listened... and heard nothing. Your bedroom door was closed, and it looked like the light was on in there, judging by the subtle glow spilling out beneath it, but still, no response. 

His bedroom door, however, was cracked open. The overhead light was off but the bedside lamp was on, and his dirty laundry basket was tipped over on the floor. When he stepped forward to turn it upright again, he thought he saw the bedding shuffle out of the corner of his eye. Closer inspection of the bed brought the case of his missing puppy girl drew to a close. Your soft tail was peeking out beneath the edge of the covers, the markings and patterns in your fur being undeniably familiar to him now. 

It was perfect timing, really-- he was just about to tip over into the realm of worrying about your safety, but now he was back to just worrying you were mad at him... and he couldn't help the amused grin that tugged at his expression. 

"Is that a little puppy in daddy's bed?" He asked aloud, his tone taking on a smitten and adoring lilt. Once again, he received no response... at least not verbally. Quietly setting down that paper bag, he stood there and watched with his arms crossed as your tail fluttered to life in response to his tone, the tip silently patting the sheets in a lazy and reluctant little wag that you might have actually gotten away with, if it weren't for the fact that your tail was in plain view. 

He was initially going to try a few more times to get a response out of you, hoping to make sure you were okay and to see if you wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that wasn't going to work with you. You weren't all doom and gloom like he tended to be, you were silly, you were playful, you were fundamentally kind. A lighthearted approach wouldn't work with him, or with most of the people he dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but it would almost certainly work with you. 

"Well," Leon stretched his arms up with a dramatic groan, "Since there's no puppies in the bed..."

And then he playfully toppled over the lump in the bedding, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to actually crush you, of course, music to his ears being the muffled squeal of stubborn discontent that sounded out from beneath the covers.

"Leon!" You whined, arms squirming around beneath him in a desperate flurry of moves to find the edge of the blanket, tugging it down to free your face for some air. Soon enough your head poked out from beneath the covers and your eyes were already narrowed into unamused slits at him. 

But that wasn't really what caught his attention about the look on your face. You were panting for breath, your ears flopped back lazily and your hair an absolute mess, your skin hot to the touch and clammy with sweat. Now his eyes were narrowed at you in suspicion, because you were certainly frustrated, just... not the kind of frustrated he was anticipating, if his suspicions were found to be correct. 

"You look guilty," He commented, brow raised as he took you by the chin and tilted your head this way and that, as though in observation. "Why do you look guilty, puppy?" 

"I'm not," You were quick to defend yourself-- much too quick, in Leon's opinion-- and you stubbornly recoiled back from his hand, continuing to squirm and resist beneath him. "You're squishing me!" 

You planted the palm of your hand dead in the center of his face in an attempt to push him away, the bedding slipping further down in the process to reveal your flushed collarbones and shoulders, both of which were bare. Were you naked? In his bed? 

He took you by the wrists to pin your hands down with ease, staring down at you in scrutiny. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart," He said, tone firm, but not unkind. "You're red as a tomato." 

With a stubborn whine, your ears flattened back against your messy head in what could only be read as shame, and that certainly wasn't what he was going for at all, even with the compromising position he had you in at the moment. It was just meant to tease you, but you looked mortified, and he could only imagine why that might be. 

"Puppy," He softened, letting go of your wrists, one hand taking you by the cheek to gently caress you. "You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." 

Your mouth fell open and then snapped shut again a time or two, a clear indication that you were tripping over your words in search of the right ones. Finally, you managed, "It's... I-It's hot." 

"Then why are you all bundled up, huh?"

You didn't even really need to admit it at this point, because it was clear as day what was going on here-- after all, Chris had warned him this might happen, that hybrids could have... intense reproductive cycles-- but he also wasn't going to push it if you just wanted to ride it out on your own. He wasn't an expert on this, he didn't know exactly what you needed, and he didn't want to overstep and freak you out.

That being said, the thought that you'd retreated to his bedroom, desperate to surround yourself with his belongings in his absence just to cope with being in heat, was a remarkably good one.

This time you didn't seem to have a retort, still writhing under him and trying to push him off of you, which wasn't new behavior for you, though this time he did take it upon himself to give you some space instead of continuing to mess with you. 

"Alright, alright, relax, daddy's not making fun of you--" 

"You're not my daddy," You interjected stubbornly, but just like always, the rosy, searing blush on your face betrayed how you really felt about the topic, even as you added, "Stop trying to make me call you that!" 

Leon dearly and sincerely adored you, that much was to be sure, but your hard-headedness could run him ragged sometimes, when you'd dig your heels in so hard about things that seemed so innocuous. Whether or not you should be expected to call him daddy-- which he regularly enjoyed teasing you about but would never legitimately force you to do-- didn't feel like the biggest issue at hand here. Not by a mile. 

How was he supposed to focus on that when you were just... burning up? Panting for breath and shaking and whining? Oh dear God, this wasn't good, and for as much effort as he was putting into focusing on your wellbeing, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to focus on the way his pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably cozy in the front. He brought one hand down between you to adjust himself only to find he'd unintentionally solicited a faint, but distinctly needy moan from you in the process, presumably because you'd touched you somewhere he hadn't necessarily meant to. 

"G-Go away, Leon," You insisted, eyes screwed shut as you turned your head to the side and maintained that stubborn frown he knew so well on you. "Get off of me!" 

But your tail was wagging in an absolute blur, thumping mindlessly against the damp sheets and knocking in between his knees at an intensity that was impossible to miss. Leon's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth in an intrigued grin before finally sitting back on his haunches, still straddling you, but at least freeing your upper half. 

"Leon, quit--" 

You poor dear, you were so, so close to finishing that sentence, if only it weren't for the way Leon swung one leg between your own, driving his knee right up to the apex until you felt the muted pressure lavish your clit. Whatever you were about to say fizzled out on your tongue and instead popped out in a string of whimpers, your back arching up off the bed. The movement caused the bedding to slip down just a little bit further, confirming his suspicion that you were in fact naked, at least from the waist up.

Taking the soft globe of your breast into the palm of his hand, Leon let his thumb brush over your already pebbled nipple and asked lowly, "Oh, c'mon, pretty puppy... you're totally sure you don't want daddy's help? I think you're just being fussy..."

Your chest rumbled with a little growl, but it was more of a moan than that, and the fiery glare on your face was the perfect image of it. You were pissed, and quite frankly, it was a good look on you. Maybe even one of his favorites. Suddenly you were baring your teeth at him too, just pretending it was in the opposite way. You were such an open book to him. 

"You're being mean," Huffed the stubborn little puppy, but of course, Leon could be meaner. 

So he was. Leon snatched the covers off the bed in one quick swipe, and what was revealed to him beneath had to have been a thousand times better than anything he might have expected. You were naked, yes, but tangled between your legs was a pair of his sweatpants, undoubtedly retrieved from the depths of the overturned laundry basket, the grey cotton soaked through in patches with slick all over the crotch and thighs. 

Fucking Christ, you weren't just getting off to the thought of him, but also the scent of him, the feeling of his clothes on your skin, and presumably, an idea not unlike what he was already teasing you with; letting you rub one out on his thigh. 

Squishing your cheeks in one hand, he said firmly, "Look at me. Do you honestly feel like I'm being mean to you?" 

There was a pause while you stared at each other, your eyes searching his own skeptically. It didn't really seem he was messing with you, no, in fact he appeared like he really wanted to help you. The back and forth was fun and he enjoyed the little game you'd made out of getting to know each other, but when it came to your comfort and wellbeing, he wasn't interested in being forced to solve puzzles. You couldn't really blame him. 

"N-No," You admitted. 

"Exactly, so just... simmer down, will you?" 

This time Leon didn't give you another chance to tell him to fuck off. He scooped you up at the waist and pulled you to your knees, drawing your body close to his until you were straddling his left thigh. Eyes wide, you stared at him stiffly, like you were too afraid to move. Huffing out a breath, he rolled his eyes with a smirk and gripped your hips, tugging you down until you were finally bearing your weight on him. 

For as fast as your pointed teeth sank into your bottom lip to quiet yourself, it didn't even matter. You still let out a pleasured whine, ears flat against your head and your tail hung low, the tip swishing in a reluctant little wag that patted the outside of his knee with every other beat. 

"You're too precious for your own damn good," He grumbled, thumbs brushing soothing circles into your hips. "Y'know that, pup?"

Breaths falling short, it felt like your head was full of warm mud, teetering for balance on your neck as your upper body tipped forward to grasp at his arms. As expected, Leon caught you effortlessly, steadying you by cupping your face in his hands so he could look you right in your braindead little eyes, your noses almost touching as your tongue lolled out in lazy gasps.

It was obvious he wasn't going to get much more out of you in the way of words at this point, so it was a damn good thing you had that pretty tail knocking about. He figured all that wiggling was the closest he'd get to a literal window into your mind. 

"Go on, then," Leon smoothed your hair away from your sticky forehead, still mindful to hold you upright. His tone was low and, as always, far too sweet for you... but it was so nice, it vibrated down to the base of your spine and made you dizzier. You were just about to fulfill what he was encouraging you to do when he added wryly, "You've already made such a mess, don't get shy on me now." 

A quiet whimper stuttered from your dry throat-- you couldn't sit still anymore, he was being evil and he knew it, downright evil... and you typically would have stuck up your nose at him and brooded on it for a while, but you didn't even have the strength of mind for that at the moment. You hardly even realized you were already rocking your hips back and forth against the clothed meat of his thigh, nails threatening to snap under the pressure as they begged to sink past his shirt and into his muscles. 

It was pleasant, sure, but it wasn't nearly enough, especially not after hours and hours and hours of tossing and turning in his bed, rubbing yourself nearly numb with your fingers and your toys and his pillows and his clothes, aching for something tangible and warm to nurse the pain away. You let your forehead rest against his own for a moment to catch your breath, hoping to find the right angle, but you just weren't getting what you needed, and the frustration alone made your glassy eyes sting with the threat of tears. 

That just wouldn't do. 

"Oh, you really made a mess, didn't you, sweet girl?" Leon cooed sympathetically, shushing your delicate cries. Thumbs skimming over your burning cheeks, he asked quietly and carefully, "Why don't you let daddy lick it up, hm?" 

Your expression scrunched up in a weak pout and your empty little head bobbed up and down in an airy nod, and just as soon as you gave him that go-ahead, he was moving to make it so. You were on your back in seconds, Leon's broad hands spreading your plush thighs apart to make space for himself between them, and for as cool and composed as he was trying to appear right now, he couldn't help the low moan that made it past him just at the sight of you. 

Sure, he'd seen more than enough by now to guess that you were wet, but you weren't just wet, you were dripping all over yourself. It was all he could do to collect as much of you on his tongue as possible, groaning at the taste and dragging you closer by your hips until he was as close as he could get, the tip of his nose buried against the curls at the lowest point of your mound as he lapped you up with abandon.

You were writhing and crying, legs kicking out at the stimulation before drawing back up to dig into his shoulders and pull him further into you, into the mess of you. He'd managed to find it somehow, to become that something tangible and warm and redefine it, unraveling you from the root with a sanguine sense of desperation that was tempered by his undying commitment to treating you like you were made of glass. 

Your tail was curling up tight against the base of your spine, your chest was heaving for breath, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, and he hardly could either. 

But he also couldn't stand not to. If you had the capacity to pay attention to small details, you might have noticed his eyes were just as bleary and drunk as yours were. Leon recorded your every movement in his mind like scripture from this angle, his own hips rutting down into the bed while yours bucked into his mouth, and it was only when he found the strength to pull away for air that he found a moment to reorient himself in reality. 

His lips were puffy, rosy, and slick with you as he caught his breath, two fingers toying with your puffy, aching clit in the absence of his tongue. It was almost like muscle memory for him to reach up with his free hand and pat your belly, an affectionate hum ringing from him at the near-immediate reaction it got out of you, even in a state like this. You were squirming and arching beneath him as your quivering body fought to determine priority over the attention brought by either hand, a rather endearing dilemma to have found yourself in. 

"Oh, my poor baby," Leon preened, lavishing the inside of your right thigh with kisses. "You're so cute..." 

Unable to help himself from letting you have the best of both forms of pampering, he replaced the tips of his fingers with his tongue yet again, freeing both hands to pet your soft tummy. The movements were lazy, but sure enough, your tail was going off as fast as it could while you laid there shivering and whining and clawing at him, tumbling over the edge into release before you could come up with a way to warn him first. 

As if he would have cared anyway. A warning wouldn't have changed anything. Hell, it might have even spoiled what turned out to be a dizzying moment of unabashed indulgence for him. 

Gentle, adoring hands kneading delicately at all your favorite spots, Leon willfully deprived himself of oxygen in pursuit of every drop of your syrup as it flowed from you, knowing he would come to regret being wasteful later if this should turn out to be a one-time thing. He lost himself to the throes of hedonism for several drawn out moments until he was confident you were licked clean, until he came to again and realized you had gone completely limp in the wake of your expenditure. 

Rolling over onto his back, Leon spread out just as bonelessly across the bed as you did, the both of you a sorry sight of sweat and heat. He spent several minutes trying to find a way to break the silence. With the haze of lust wearing off a bit and clearing up space in his mind for more intelligent processes, Leon was already beginning to dread the inevitable conversation this would warrant between the two of you.

Lucky for him, that was so far outside of the realm of your current train of thought... or lack thereof. You certainly felt better, but that didn't mean your brain wasn't mud anymore. Little else mattered to your muggy, muddled mind but the here and now. 

In an unexpected move, you rolled onto your side to rest your head against his chest. The way you struggled to meet his eyes was enough for him to know you were likely still struggling to talk, or maybe you just didn't really want to, but the olive branch you'd extended demonstrated your agreeable state, which was more than he could've said for you half an hour ago. 

Shit, half an hour ago he was still hoping a couple presents from his trip would win your affections, yet here he was with the taste of you lingering on his lips, your naked body curled up to him for comfort. 

Wrapping his arm tightly around you until you were tucked up comfortably into his side, Leon rested his chin atop your head and mumbled fondly, "What am I gonna do with you, huh? Can't even sleep in my own bed after a long mission 'cause this pretty little puppy made such a big mess... I hope you know how to work the washing machine."

[0cta9on]

Sana and Miyeon fucking their boyfriend and they fight over him to make him choose her favorite girlfriend (full story please)

A Stroke of Luck

length: +3k words

Twice Sana x (G)-Idle Miyeon x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long!! First threesome piece, so I hope it's alright)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Sometimes you wonder just how you got so lucky. Since the day you were born, you were able to glide through life, getting anything you could ever want with a simple wave of your hand or a nod of your head. Perhaps your life of luxury can be attributed to your incredibly wealthy parents spoiling you the second you drew your first breath, or maybe your past life sacrificed themselves to save the universe and the higher power up there is finally giving you your recompense. Regardless, you revel in the fact that you have everything - and everyone - right at the tip of your fingers.

Frankly, you have a vague memory of how you met them - your memory always gets hazy when alcohol is involved. You were never too keen on clubbing, viewing it as a waste of money for a night you’ll never be able to remember, but it was a small price to pay to appease some potential business partners that your parents would eventually bleed dry before tossing to the curb. While trying to keep up appearances, the crowd parted at just the right moment, allowing you to gaze upon these goddesses for the first time, two Mona Lisas that made even the most beautiful supermodel comparable to a two-year-old’s crayon drawing. This is when your memory gets a bit blurry. A quick exchange of sultry alcohol-infused words, a brief yet lingering touch on the arm, and suddenly you had them both face down in some expensive hotel room, pounding away to high heaven. After a night of blissful sex, you would wake up alone with a note on the nightstand and one new message on your phone from an unknown number. Upon reading the note, only then did you realize just how truly lucky you are.

That night was a year ago. In fact, today marks the exact anniversary of that night - your first anniversary with your girlfriends. You have a whole schedule planned for later, which includes an expensive dinner for the three of you, a private fireworks show, and a steamy ending between the sheets as the cherry on top. As bizarre and outlandish as your situation is, you genuinely do love them and want to spoil them with a good time. Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately), one of them isn’t content with waiting around until dinner rolls by.

The sight of the cute Japanese woman crawling towards you in nothing but one of your white button-up shirts is a sight you would gladly get surgically implanted into your retinas. She tries to glare at you menacingly, but her round eyes and her bread-like cheeks only serve to make her look adorable.

“Sana, what are you doing?” You ask, amused.

“I’m a tiger stalking their prey. Rawr~” she teases, stifling a giggle. Any attempts at trying to watch the game on the TV prove futile once Sana starts rubbing your thighs, her hands tantalizingly close to your crotch.

“Miyeon is gonna be pissed if she finds out we’re fucking without her, you know?” You say as you run your hands lovingly through her silky hair.

“If she finds out.” Sana punctuates her statement with a kiss on your bulge. “Just don’t let her find out,” she giggles. Before you can object, her hands are already unzipping your pants and taking out your erect cock. Sana gazes at it affectionately, licking her lips as she strokes you slowly. Compared to Miyeon, she is much more vocal about her desires, begging and pouting until you finally give in to her demands (Not that you would ever say no to that face). Whether it’s a new handbag or your cock inside of her, Sana gets what she wants one way or another.

“You naughty girl,” you tease, caressing her cheek. “You really can’t wait until Miyeon gets home?”

“Mm-mm,” she mutters, shaking her head before taking your entire length into her mouth. The overwhelming sensation of her tongue lapping up your precum causes an involuntary groan to escape your throat. An entire year of this and not once does it ever get old. Life is fucking great, isn’t it?

Sana’s doe eyes scan your reaction as she worships your member, always so attentive, ensuring that you’re enjoying the experience as much as she is. She watches the way you squirm when she sucks on your balls or the way your breath hitches in your throat whenever her teeth gently graze against your skin. To the unknowing eye, Sana can easily be seen as a materialistic brat, but you know better than anyone how much she reciprocates your affection. It’s most evident in how hard she tries to take all of you in at once, struggling to the point of tears as she forces your cock down her throat.

“Fuck, Sana,” you moan. “Save some of that energy for later tonight.”

She struggles to catch her breath after another attempt at deepthroating you. Precum and saliva coat her mouth and chin, dripping down to her chest that’s barely hidden behind your white button-up shirt.

“I just can’t help myself when I’m with you. That beast between your legs is just sooooo enticing.” Sana hops into your lap, pressing her full body weight into you. You feel her panting breath tickle your nose while you stare at the many charming features of her face. How lucky you are to have such a beautiful woman in your life.

“Why are you smiling?” she teases, the sweet sound of her laugh brushing against your ears.

“I love you, Sana,” you state firmly. Her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink right before she hides her embarrassed expression in the crook of your neck, giggling delightfully. You’re so infatuated by her cuteness that you almost forget that she’s naked and sitting on your lap. Almost.

One by one, you unbutton her shirt, slowly revealing that body you love so much. Her full, perky breasts sit above her toned stomach which flows and ebbs into her petite waist. You run your hands along her familiar curves, painting her chest with kisses. Your body aches for her and hers for yours, clawing and gripping and kissing every inch of your beings, trying to absorb one another just to get closer than humanly possible.

Sana cups your face, eyes steeled with lustful determination. “I need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard that Miyeon gets jealous. I want to be the only woman for you, even if it’s just for a little moment.”

Without another word, you stand up, carrying her by her ass and aligning your cock with her moist folds before staring deep into her eyes as you thrust yourself into her, watching her face morph into several shapes of desire as she adjusts to your size. Sana’s arms and legs wrap around your torso, desperately clinging onto you to try and take in every inch of your cock. You’re not sure how long she’s felt like this; you always considered her and Miyeon to be a package deal, never one without the other for too long. You love them both equally and always ensure that you never showed favorites. Maybe you slipped up recently, or maybe the two of them are fighting behind the scenes. Whatever it is, if Sana wants to feel like the only woman in your life, you’ll gladly grant her wish in a heartbeat.

“Sana… baby… I love you so much,” you pant into her ear.

“MMPH, yes! I love you too, baby! F-Fuck! You’re the only one that can satisfy me!” She mashes her lips into yours, forcing your tongues into a messy yet sensual dance. Her moans vibrate in your mouth, drowning out any kind of background noise other than the clapping of your hips against hers. Her sweet pussy takes you in so well, almost as if it was tailor-made just for you. However, your cock belongs to two women. One of those women happens to be unlocking the front door right at this moment.

“Hey guys, I’m bac- Hey!”

Much to Sana’s dismay, you momentarily pause your thrusts to glance at the source of the voice. The second love of your life, Miyeon, is standing right there with a large bouquet of flowers and an irritated pout on her lips.

“Hi princess,” you say to her, hoping to ease the tension. “What do you have there?”

“They’re from work,” she huffs, tossing the flowers onto the sofa before stomping towards you. “What are you doing?!”

You let out a sheepish laugh as you set Sana down to the ground, pulling out of her sweet embrace. Now two pairs of unhappy eyes are looking up at you. “W-well, you see, you know how Sana is-”

“How could you two have sex without me?!” Miyeon exclaims.

“Yah, don’t yell at him!” Sana interjects. “It’s not his fault he prefers my pussy over yours!”

“O-okay, I never said th-” You try to come in between them, but they both push you away with surprising synchronization.

“No, he doesn’t! You probably just threw yourself at him, you slut!”

Sana gasps. “Slut?! You’re just jealous that he likes me more than you!”

The two continue to bicker and argue, and you start to worry that things could get physical. Right as Sana lifts her hand, you step in between the two of them, shielding Miyeon from a potential slap.

“OKAY, let’s all calm down for a second, alright?” You gently grasp Sana’s wrist, putting it down by her side. “What is going on between you two? You guys are best friends, why are you fighting all of a sudden?”

The two fall silent, averting their teary eyes to the floor, standing there like bickering sisters. You never expected this kind of behavior from either of them, especially on the day of your anniversary.

“Look at me,” you command, lifting up both of their chins towards you. “I love the both of you and I don’t want to see you fighting. We’re going to stand here and talk until this all gets resolved, even if it takes all night.”

Seeing the serious look in your eyes, both of their expressions soften. Sana is the first to speak up.

“I see the way you treat Miyeon. Sometimes I feel like you like her more than me, and it makes me feel… jealous.”

Compared to Sana, Miyeon is on the quieter side, rarely demanding things from you or complaining about anything. In the beginning of your relationship, you assumed that she wasn’t into the idea of polygamy and only tagged along because of Sana. It took a while to understand her, but you eventually found out that Miyeon just doesn’t like asking for things and wants you to basically read her mind. Now, you can tell exactly what she’s thinking just from her body language, and Miyeon consequently became more affectionate towards you. Sana must have noticed the differences in the way you treat her and thought you were showing favoritism.

“Okay, yes, I treat Miyeon differently than I treat you, but that doesn’t mean I love her more than you, Sana,” you reassure her. “You girls have different personalities and both of you deserve a man that can love you the way you want to be loved. I’m sorry if it seems like I treat her better, but that’s really not the case, okay? Please don’t fight because I made a mistake.”

Sana and Miyeon look at each other with an apologetic expression before falling into a warm embrace.

“I’m sorry I fucked him without you,” Sana apologizes.

“I’m sorry I called you a slut.”

Sana pulls Miyeon into a deep and loving kiss. It starts out innocently enough, but eventually, the two begin moaning into each other’s mouths while their hands explore their bodies. You can’t help but stroke your cock at the sight of your two ladies making out in front of you. Miyeon notices your erection and whispers giddily into Sana’s ear, prompting a mischievous smile to grow on the Japanese woman’s lips.

“We’re so sorry about fighting, baby,” Sana says in a sultry tone.

“Yeah, we’ve been such naughty girls.” Miyeon looks at you with her siren eyes, drawing you in with a simple glance. “Maybe you should punish us, baby.”

Sana reaches out and grabs your rod, pulling you closer. “Yeah, punish us with your big, fat cock.”

With your heart pounding with excitement, you grab their wrists, pulling them towards the bedroom as the sounds of their giggles trail behind you. You throw them towards the bed, quickly freeing yourself from any clothing as they watch with anticipation. Miyeon bites her lip as she ogles your body, while Sana touches herself just thinking about all the things you’ll do to the both of them.

“Miyeon is a bit overdressed, don’t you think so, Sana?” You ask, smirking. Sana nods in agreement, pulling Miyeon into a heavy kiss while her hand snakes its way into her top. You get to work on Miyeon’s bottom half, kneeling in front of her and tugging at her skirt to reveal the damp spot on her panties. You pull Miyeon’s legs over your shoulder so her thighs sandwich your face and begin planting kisses all over her supple skin. Sana tosses Miyeon’s top and bra to the other side of the room before sucking on Miyeon’s perky tits. Her high-pitched princess moans fill the room, accompanied by the wet kissing sounds of you and Sana pleasuring her body.

“Ah, fuck! Yes, just like that!” Miyeon exclaims. You hungrily pull off her panties before diving into her heat, licking between her folds and flicking your tongue against her clit. Sana sits behind her, holding her spasming body while nibbling her ear.

“I bet you’re sooooo exhausted after work, aren’t you, princess?” Sana whispers into Miyeon’s ear. Miyeon nods amidst her whimpering, biting her lip at her girlfriend, begging for her to take her. Sana obliges, shoving her tongue into her mouth as you shove your tongue into Miyeon’s dripping pussy. It doesn’t take long for Miyeon to reach her first orgasm, squirting her nectar all over your face which you gladly lap up, not wasting a single drop. Her body shivers with pleasure, but you have only just begun.

Sana and Miyeon watch intently as you stand up and align your cock with Miyeon’s glistening heat. With a mischievous smirk, Sana moves aside, letting Miyeon lie on her back. Miyeon’s mouth forms an “O” as you insert your tip inside of her, and Sana seizes the chance by sitting on Miyeon’s face, grinding her hips into the Korean woman’s open mouth. Your bodies form a literal love triangle as Sana pulls your face towards her, catching your lips with hers as you thrust deeply into Miyeon. You imagined this to be the last thing you did on your anniversary night instead of the first thing, but you don’t mind doing things a bit out of order. As long as these two lovely ladies are happy, you’re happy.

“Isn’t Miyeon’s pussy so tight, baby?” Sana asks with a smirk on her face. You nod, becoming increasingly aroused by Sana’s dirty talk, quickening the pace of your thrusts. Miyeon’s muffled moans become significantly louder, causing Sana to cling onto your shoulders for support as she reaches her climax. Sana pulls your head into another kiss, moaning into her mouth as her body trembles from her orgasm. She eventually collapses to the side of the bed, allowing Miyeon to finally breathe. 

The light reflects off of Sana’s nectar on Miyeon’s skin, giving her the appearance of a glimmering angel. You slow down the pace of your thrusts, bringing your face close to Miyeon’s ear.

“Mirror?” You ask simply. She nods excitedly, biting her lip with anticipation.

If there’s one thing you learned about Miyeon since dating her for the past year, it’s that she absolutely adores herself. If she suddenly turned quiet, it was because she was either staring at a mirror or taking selfies. Every time she sent you nudes, it was more so to show you just how beautiful is rather than solely for your benefit (Not that you minded, of course). On the nights the three of you felt particularly frisky and decided to film yourselves, Miyeon would always rewind her parts, going on about how sexy she looks when she’s about to cum or how pretty her own moans sound. You wouldn’t say she’s narcissistic; rather, she’s just confident in her looks, and she had every reason to be. Cho Miyeon is the perfect embodiment of a princess, and you love that about her.

You bend Miyeon over the vanity, making sure she has a good view of herself before you rail her from behind. She peers over her shoulder at you and winks, wiggling her ass playfully.

“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you gonna punish m- AH!”

You grip onto Miyeon’s slim waist and begin to pound her hot cunt with ease. The entire vanity shakes as she clings onto it for dear life, barely able to support herself as her legs become as stable as jelly. Despite the stage of disarray she’s in, Miyeon maintains eye contact with herself in the mirror, evidently turning her on more with how her pussy tightens around your cock.

“Cum for me, princess,” you whisper gruffly into her ear. “You look so pretty when you cum.”

“I do?” she asks, flashing her puppy dog eyes at you through the mirror. You nod, unable to speak a coherent word as the sensation begins to feel too much. Miyeon squeals with pleasure as her juices begin to leak down her legs and onto the floor. You hold her up in case her trembling legs give out on her as she rides out her orgasm.

“Good girl,” you reassure her, planting kisses all over her back. Once she calms down, you help her to the bed and lay her down gently next to Sana.

“That was so fucking hot, princess,” Sana says, giving Miyeon a small peck on the lips. Miyeon giggles, her eyes barely able to stay open. With Sana’s energy back and your cock still hard, she descends on you like a panther, pinning you to the bed.

“Miyeon’s tongue is nice, but I needdddd your fat fucking cock inside of me,” she smirks as she straddles your lap, guiding your tip inside of her pussy. Her eyes roll back inside of her head as she takes you little by little, before completely bottoming out inside of her. After a moment of adjusting, Sana begins to ride your cock, holding onto your chest for support. You squeeze and tug at her bouncing tits, eliciting cute little squeals from her. A still-tired Miyeon decides to join in the fun, pushing Sana down onto your cock with more force and teasing her clit.

“HOLY FUCK!” Sana squeals ecstatically.

“I bet you like being a little slut, huh?” Miyeon teases her. “You like being filled up by our boyfriend’s cock, don’t you?”

“FUCK! Yes, I love it so much!”

“You wanna be filled with his cum, right baby?” Miyeon smirks at you as she whispers into Sana’s ear. With how close you are, you have no choice but to follow along with her impromptu plan. 

“Oh god, yes please fill me with your cum, baby!” Sana exclaims, eyeing you desperately. Miyeon’s hand trails up your chest as she leans in towards you.

“You heard her,” she says, slyly cupping your cheek. “Better give her what she wants.”

Without hesitation, you shoot your load straight into Sana’s womb. Sana’s second orgasm follows shortly after, your fluids mixing together inside of her. Out of an entire year of fucking these two wonderful girls, this is the hardest orgasm you have ever experienced.

Eventually, Sana collapses on top of you, gasping for breath, while Miyeon quickly laps up the fluids dripping from the Japanese woman’s legs. You can’t help but laugh at Sana’s post-orgasm shivering.

“H-holy… shit,” Sana says breathlessly. “That… was fucking amazing.”

Miyeon crawls up, laying her head on Sana’s chest. “Yeah, he’s pretty great, isn’t he?” The two girls giggle at each other, exchanging playful kisses and warm looks. You wrap your arm around the both of them, grateful that they’re not fighting anymore.

“How did I get so lucky to have the two of you in my life?” You ask, gazing at these two beauties lovingly. With a quick glance at the clock, you notice that you still have a couple hours until the dinner reservation. “Why don’t you two hop in the shower and get ready? I have something special planned for tonight.”

“You’re not gonna join us?” Miyeon asks.

“I would love to, princess, but I know for a fact that we’re not gonna make it to dinner if I join you in the shower,” you joke. Sana jolts up, grabbing Miyeon’s wrist.

“I am NOT missing out on dinner,” Sana states, dragging Miyeon into the bathroom with her. Right before they close the door behind them, they turn to you one last time.

“We love you!” They say in unison. 

You lay back on the bed, smiling to yourself as you look up at the ceiling. How did you ever get so lucky?

[alavestineneas]

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

Part 2 is here!

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion. 

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way. 

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her. 

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better. 

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle. 

-

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago. 

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life. 

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less. 

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns. 

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet. 

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation. 

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine. 

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us." 

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin. 

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep. 

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus." 

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

-

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?" 

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on." 

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?" 

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?" 

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners. 

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist. 

-

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position." 

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

 "Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student." 

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration. 

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own." 

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

-

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else. 

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception. 

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man. 

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out? 

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table. 

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake. 

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving. 

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense." 

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her. 

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

-

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success? 

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful. 

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish. 

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.'' 

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air." 

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit. 

-

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her. 

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time. 

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring. 

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath. 

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

[worriedvision]

Ajaw ruins his relationship with you - Kinich

Gender neutral reader, angst. No happy ending here, borderline crack BC Ajaw is a cracky character let's be honest. Ajaws a little shit here

--

Kinich had, somehow, caught your eye enough for you to successfully land a date with him. One date becomes two, and the third one ends in you inviting him over for a drink. He accepts, and before you know it your home becomes a place for him to call home as well. While Kinich wasn't very emotive, he seemed to smile just a bit around you.

However, the couple affections you would expect from him in a relationship weren't coming. Nothing like kissing or hugging, and for a while you think it's because Kinich was not a touchy person. You also knew he was very busy with his work, which was why the first few times he left and told you not to wait for him you didn't think much. At the time, in fact, you were more attracted to him because he was honest with you.

"Don't wait up." He blankly states, every morning he leaves. If you're lucky, he comes back at night time only to sleep - he doesn't make himself any food or drink from your home.

You got suspicious of him when you were hanging out with Mualani, and she brought up the fact someone called Ajaw wouldn't stop nagging at Kinich. When you ask who Ajaw was, rather if this was his boss, Mualani laughs.

"Ajaw probably thinks so, but they bickering too often to do any work together." Mualani tuts. "Do you never hear Ajaw? That voice is so... Annoying to hear!"

"No...I've never met this Ajaw." You hum out, Mualani gasping.

"Tell me your tricks!"

--

Once you get home from your interaction with your friend, you've had enough time to think. After some long thinking, you come to a decision. You move the stuff that's Kinich's, leaving them by the front door, and add temporary locks in addition to the one your key locks until you can change the lock.

To your surprise, Kinich sounds surprised when he notices his bags out. You refuse to open the door, having more than enough time to waste as you had a day off, and Kinich defeatedly picks up his few belongings before leaving.

--

"Hah! You should see your face!" Ajaw jeers, Mualani and Kinich groaning out at Ajaws harsh words. "Good thing _ wisened up and realised they can do a lot better than some mortal being that can't even get himself a group of companions!"

"Because you always ruin things." Mualani sighs.

"Hey, I can't take credit for this one! I never even once spoke around _!" Ajaw shrugs, putting some sunglasses on.

"I was hoping to finally get to spend some time with them. I've finally got enough cover for a few days." Kinich states, seeming to realise what Ajaw did. "...Mualani, you know how annoying Ajaw is. Do you know if -"

"Oddly enough no! Honestly, I'm jealous. Ajaw doesn't know when to shut up."

"...It seems they do." Kinich massages his temples, Mualani making eye contact with him.

"...Do you think they were suspicious you were seeing Ajaw? Yuck!"

"Hey, I can hear you, ya know?!"

"It makes sense though. They don't know Ajaw isn't even human, and also isn't mortal."

"Hahaha! Oh boy, even I didn't think keeping my mouth shut around your potential love interests would give this benefit!" Ajaw cackles, seeing Kinich's hand flying towards him. "Hey, what are - AHH!"

--

You keep getting asked if Kinich is single, each time you saying he wasn't seeing you anymore before they seem excited to pursue a taken man. It's quite concerning, really, you think theres little dignity in being the other person in the relationship.

Kinich tried to talk to you, but each time you saw him you'd make an excuse for being too busy before hearing some weird child cackling and screaming in retaliation to someone reacting to them. As much as his hurt expression spoke to you, you still knew in your mind that Kinich was in a relationship.

Even if he wasn't, you would know in your mind that you were the second choice.

[sourholland]

click

azriel x fem!reader

a short sorta and angsty, im halfway through a court of wings and ruin so this doesn’t really sit in a timeline but i was inspired to write. as always, requests are always open

If there was one thing to be absolutely certain about when it came to Azriel, it was his utter devotion to Mor. The yearning that bled through that stone cold facade. It was almost as if his desperation for her prevailed above all else, even after so many years.

Rhysand had alluded to his hope that the mating bond would someday click between the two of them. You wondered if perhaps he thought if it did, maybe all of that longing wouldn’t have all been for nothing. The way he looked at her was unlike anything you’d ever seen, causing you to ignore the small twinge in your heart that came with the sight of it. Over the years, you had come to terms with the fact that his feelings were unchanging and deep-rooted through centuries of shared trauma.

Having only been with Rhys’s inner circle for a few decades, you were much younger get than the rest of them. He had anointed you as emissary of The Night Court when you came to him seeking asylum within Velaris, born to The Court of Nightmares.

Mor was much like you in that way, she was a sister to you at this point. When Feyre came, you felt so overjoyed to have another female to connect with. Even Amren had taken to you, in whatever capacity she knew how to.

Amren was who had observed the soul tie between you and Azriel, how she was able to—you had not a clue. The feeling of the potential bond had weighed on your heart for a few years, however he never spoke of it so you had chalked it up to being a mistaken feeling within the hollowness of your chest. She picked up on it very early on, she spoke to you candidly.

“He loves Mor,” said Amren, unabashedly.

“I know,” you responded chastely. “She knows, he knows, I know. That is that.”

Amren stilled for a moment, her legs tucked under her as you both sat on the floor of her apartment and mulled over information for your meeting at the House of Wind that night. A flicker of emotion passed her cold eyes, meeting her gaze and sharing a look of understanding. She needn’t say it, she pitied you in whatever way she could muster up.

“He doesn’t know,” you said after a moment.

“Yes,” she let a knowing sigh escape her lips. “He does.”

You say nothing. Truthfully, you knew that he suspected. You simply gathered that he was doing the same as you were, ignoring it in entirety. Yet, you remained on speaking terms with him as he continued to watch Mor like she would someday change her mind.

“I will say this only once, mostly because I do not wish to meddle in the inner workings of your soul,” she finally said. “If he wishes to grovel at the feet of someone who will never have him in the way that he wishes, let him. It is a pathetic waste of life, if that is any consolation.”

Once you departed from Amren’s apartment, you walked along the streets of Velaris soundlessly. There were children playing in the streets, you greeted some of them sweetly and nodded along. She was right, Azriel would not change for anyone but himself at this point.

He was late to dinner that night, whatever business he was attending to had somehow held him up. He came in after everyone was already sat and eating, chatting and laughing a bit. He took the empty seat beside you, mentioning a few things to Rhysand and speaking to Feyre about his plans for the following day.

“How did it go between you and Amren?” He suddenly asked you, beginning to shovel food onto his plate.

You simply responded with the sound of cutlery scraping the bottom of your plate. He thought that you had not heard him, repeating himself again as his shadows danced around his shoulders and the edges of his wings. The third time he repeated himself, there was an edge to his voice that brought you out of your thoughts to meet his eyes.

Click.

There it was. The bond. The god awful fucking mating bond. It felt almost ironic, like fate was giving you the middle finger. Azriel stilled, his eyes completely locked onto your own. It felt nothing like you’d imagined, despite already knowing deep down.

Only Amren had fully recognized what happened, eyes almost appearing shocked. She said nothing, but could not pull her own stare from the interaction.

His shadows began to drift towards you, a sick feeling lurching in your gut and causing you to drop your utensils. The clatter caused everyone to look up and to both of you, your chair nearly falling behind you as you could not stomach to be in the dining room any longer.

Azriel couldn’t even go after you, he only sat in silence with unmoving eyes. He hadn’t even blinked, almost as if the confirmation sent him into a complete and utter state of shock.

[eamour]

the cycle of waiting.

one of the most common reasons to why people fail to manifest their desires isn’t necessarily because they fail to "manifest it correctly" but because they don’t even start to assume a new reality for themselves.

waiting for the change.

the question is, why do people wait so long to take mental action? scarcity is a reason most are familiar with. being afraid to make a move towards your desire especially when the possibility of failure exists. some feel insecure or overwhelmed and don't think they are mentally prepared for big changes. some feel uncertain about what they really want. some are used to their current circumstances, they refuse to get uncomfortable and would rather endure unpleasant feelings. and some have limiting beliefs hindering them from fully realising their potential.

depending on the outside.

you don't need your desires in physical form in order to feel its associated feelings. you don't need proof of it. not only because you long for the FEELING of having your desire and not your desire itself, but because the 3D could never change on its own. the 3D looks at you for validation, and not the other way round. you are the only evidence you need and your imagination has always been the validation for everything in your life. you are self sabotaging yourself if you rely on changes from without and built your faith upon things you can perceive with your senses. this way, you will keep letting the outer world define how much you can have within yourself.

conditioning your desires.

if you keep waiting for the world to change so you have an "excuse", a "permission" or a "reason" to finally change as well, you will be stuck in a cycle that will constantly repeat itself as you will remain as you are. if you won't take action from within, you will forever remain in a state of stagnation, feeling unsatisfied with the way life turns out to be. additionally, waiting for outer movement can also be a form of conditioning your desires.

stop wasting time.

stop waiting and living in desire. realise that imagination is the only reality and allow yourself to give yourself your desires. don't expect to be saved when you can be your only saviour. and remember, you can't change what's inside with what's outside. only if you, from WITHIN, are willing to change, you can alter the physical.

change now.

so, what are you waiting for? why not feel the way you would want to feel? why not feel beautiful, loved, successful, healthy, intelligent and wealthy? why not start today? there is no reason for why you should deny yourself to feel these feelings. don't hold back, don't resist and no longer hesitate to finally fulfill yourself, rather than expecting the 3D to change on its own (which it can't, never did and never will).

it's important that you always keep in mind that you don't change once your 3D changes. you only really change if you change from within, not from without.

with love, ella.

[nicosraf]

Wait what did Freydis Moon do? :( I've read their books and really liked them, but I don't follow them anywhere online, so that last ask you got worried me

Freydis Moon has been exposed to be Taylor Barton, a white person from the state of Oregon, someone who had a history of faking their race, being racist, and general abusive behavior. You can read more here about this Taylor person here, and you can find an incredibly long thread here.

Freydis was a colleague of mine, and they took me under their wing when I entered the indie book scene. They presented themselves as a Latine, mystic, queer trans author — who was older than me, I should add — so I deeply admired them and confided in them. I don't think ABM would have ever gotten much attention if I hadn't received their guidance.

There had been some whispers that Freydis was really Taylor, but I'd seen Frey's seemingly darker-skinned hands and heard their real name, which was supposedly Daniela.

Two things I should say before the big reveal: Freydis briefly hired a publicist named Cordi, who was also an agent with their own agency, named The Lynne Agency. Cordi, very randomly, decided to leave the industry and left their clients, and Freydis, hanging. Someone else to mention is Saint Harlow, an author of gay, cannibal erotica. On twitter, Saint was known for peddling a lot of drama — sometimes, he was on the good side of things and sometimes the bad, but he tended to be a massive bully. Freydis allegedly comforted some of Saint's victims.

And the reveal:

Freydis is the race faker Taylor Barton. The evidence is substantial, but most notably, some of the files they shared with other authors, including me, had metadata with the names of Taylor Barton's other identities. I was able to check the files myself to confirm.

They were also Saint Harlow. Meaning Freydis was bullying people secretly on one account and comforting them on another. And the bullying was a lot more disgusting than you might think, but for the sake of the victim, I won't share details.

They were also the publicist/agent Cordi. Why did they pretend to be an agent at all? I'm not sure but they wasted a lot of authors' times, that's for sure. Were they just looking to plagiarize off manuscripts sent to them? Who knows. (A friend of mine who sent their manuscript to them fears so).

There were a lot of interactions between Taylor and I that are much much weirder in retrospect. They critiqued the industry use of #ownvoices, which I agreed about, but blew the issue out of proportion, like thinking #ownvoices gay-trans author book lists shouldn't exist because of potential outing, mlm books by mlm authors lists shouldn't exist because of potential outing, and that lists of books by people of color about people of color also shouldn't exist because... potential outing? Taylor was, to me, oddly sympathetic toward certain authors accused of racism and shot down my concerns of a certain book with what I felt to be pro-colonizer themes inconsistently — their response to racism seemed to depend on whether they already disliked a person or not.

I could say a lot more but as someone who spoke to Taylor in private at times, there were a lot of things I was unsure about even when I was on their side of things. To some people, apparently, Freydis had said they were part Mexican, but only ever told me they were Peruvian (they might've known I'd clock them as a faker). Regardless, when this all came to light, their response was shockingly dismissive.

This may be more info than you asked for but TLDR:

Freydis Moon faked their race and ethnicity, bullied and manipulated many readers and authors using various fake identities, took advantage of latine author resources, and so on.

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

partition*

pairing: ceo harry x reader

warnings: voyeurism, car sex, squirting, daddy kink

summary: in which yn is mad at harry and he lets her take her frustration out on him

masterlist | taglist

~

the backseat of the limo is filled with tension as harry and yn ride to some dinner they’d been invited to by a potential client that she definitely would rather not attend, the sound of the busy road around them being the only filler. her arms are folded across her chest as she sits as far away from him as she can bear, scrolling on her phone to avoid the scowl on his face.

“baby, i’m sorry we have to go to this, but i promise as soon as we get home we can cuddle and watch a movie and eat some popcorn. i’ll even let y’do the little face mask on me like we did last time,” harry tries, exasperation seeping into his tone as he tries to make things better. she responds with nothing but a sigh, turning her body away from him slightly and crossing her legs. that’s all it takes for it all to click in his head; the game she’s playing. he’ll bite, but definitely not in the way she wants.

“alright. if y’gonna be bratty all night i’m not gonna deal with it. we can go home,” he warns, clenching his teeth together to keep his composure. “what can i do to make it better?”

when she still doesn’t answer, he’s reaching forward and pressing the button for the partition, much to her confusion. she’s not confused for long, though, as she sees him unbuttoning his slacks before unzipping them and freeing his cock. “panties off,” he tells her nonchalantly, lazily stroking his cock as he stares at her.

her breathing stops for just a moment as she takes in his words before she’s doing as she’s told, sliding her panties down her legs and past her shoes. she goes to place them into her purse before she hears the sound of fingers snapping, looking over to harry to see him with his hand open. he takes the time to place them into the pocket of his jacket before snapping into action.

“‘s a shame really,” he grunts, pulling her over to him and spreading her legs on either side of him. he flips her dress up and wastes no more time before sliding a ringed finger through her already glistening folds. “so wet for me already, it’s pathetic,” he spits before reaching between them to line himself up with her. he uses his other hand to guide her down onto him, a gasp leaving her lips at the slight stretch.

he lets her adjust for a moment, and when she finally relaxes fully around him she expects him to start absolutely wrecking her, but he doesn’t. he removes his hands from her hips and places them behind his head, looking at her expectantly. “go on, then. if y’so mad at me, take it out on me. take what you need from me,” he tells her, and a scoff falls from her lips at his words but she prepares herself nonetheless.

placing her hands on his shoulders, she adjusts her body so that her knees are against the leather of the seat before using the both of them as leverage to lift herself off his cock before slamming her hips back down with so much force that it forces a shocked grunt from harry.

“that’s what it was. just needed daddy to make it all better, hm?” he grunts, trying not to show what she’s doing to him. the feeling of her warm, slick walls sliding over each and every inch of him has a cry bubbling in the back of his throat that he refuses to let go, settling for short grunts as she continues to lift and drop her hips at a speed that’s comfortable for her.

she keeps going at her desired pace as the knot in her belly gets tighter and tighter, her skin growing damp with the effort she’s putting in. taking a moment to adjust herself and breathe, she leans forward just a bit before continuing, and the angle is absolutely delicious. the most guttural sound falls from her lips at the feeling, and she’s speeding up just a bit as she chases the feeling she craves.

harry can barely hold himself together with her on top of him, taking all of him so well, so he reaches forward and grabs her ass cheeks, spreading them and using them as leverage to fuck her down onto him. that’s not all he does, though, scooting down the seat just enough that he can get his footing to begin fucking her from below. her eyes instantly roll into the back of her head and her cries of pleasure get much louder, harry trying to get her there before he explodes.

“fuck, i can feel you squeezing me. so close for me. y’did so well taking what you needed from me, baby,” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling of his balls drawing tighter and tighter with each meeting of their bodies. “cmon, baby. cum for me, y’so close. soak my cock before i fill you up, make a mess on me.”

and that’s all it takes for her to go completely rigid above him but he doesn’t stop the movement of his hips or let go of hers, and a loud sob of pleasure leaves her lips as she cums. her orgasm brings a gush of wetness that soaks his expensive suit, a ring of white coating the base of him as even more evidence of how hard she came.

he looks down as he feels her let go so intensely, and the sight of his soaked clothes plus the feeling of her contracting walls sucking him in sends him over the edge with a noise that resembles a growl and a grunt, dropping her hips back down onto his to keep her close as he fills her up. his balls and his cock are twitching as he empties himself in her, and he can barely think as his body slumps in relief.

they’re just lying in the wetness of her orgasm as he feels his cum start to drip down past the base of him, leaving his balls even stickier than they already were. once they catch their breath, yn has no interest in moving, so she groans when she feels harry shift behind her before holding onto her back to keep her stable as he reaches toward the front of the limo.

pressing the button for the partition once more, he attempts to catch his breath a bit more before speaking to the driver. “you can go ahead and turn back around, we’re just gonna head home instead,” he manages, not even waiting for a response as he lets it back up. he can catch a glimpse, though, of the driver through the mirror. a red face and ears as he avoids all eye contact. there’s no way he didn’t hear the absolute filth that happened in the back, and he definitely lets out a sigh of exasperation as he realizes he’ll be left to clean up the mess(the tip will be insane though).

harry looks down to yn slumped against his chest with a small grin, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead before saying something that makes her breath stutter.

“it’s good that you’re getting some rest now, baby. you’re gonna need the energy.”

~

[court-jobi]

Hi, lately I came across your blog and I really adore your writting style :3

I was very excited when I saw you have open requests (if I am not wrong, otherwise ignore me hah), so I have request for Bakugou × reader, when they are in established relationship, but lately it got rocky, because he was barely home, trying to climb ranks and just neglecting their relationship, so they barely even talk. Then reader gets kidnapped, due to being Bakugou's SO, but she feels so irrelevant at this point that she starts saying to the kidnapper that they are wasting their time, because Bakugou is not coming for her, whick Katsuki overhears, you know just good old angst with fluff at the end maybe

If this request is too complicated or specific please don't feel pressured to do this, anyway have a lovely day/night

I am very much receptive to asks, and thank you so much for providing one!! super flattered actually and spent my entire afternoon crafting up this bad boy bc I had an instant idea for it

Hopefully I touched all the right notes on this one, enjoy anon! Don't be a stranger~

Do It Scared

Words: 4.9K

Warnings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x reader TW: kidnapping, intimidation, light descriptions of violence, protective Bakugou is protective, language, angst with a happy ending (promise!!) and potential spoiler: Pro Hero!Deku

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Dynamight is on top of the world– or at least working his ass off to get there.

With Deku back on the leaderboard, he’s got twice the motivation and has never been in love with being a hero more.

“That’s what -heh- nine for you this week, Dynamight?” the newly suited Pro beams at Bakugou- not unlike the five year old version of him did back a lifetime ago.

Only instead of bashing the twerp upside the head with a gloating tease, Bakugou simple smirks and gives Midoriya a stiff push on the shoulder, 

“Ten, but who’s counting, nerd?”

The winded, black-and-blue villain currently under custody finds the heroes’ track records funny. Midoriya doesn’t necessarily take these villain types’ remarks to heart, but hates the attitude of this one today.

“Yer sidekick keepin’ count?! You wanna badge or a chest to pin it on, smartie pants? –AAGH!”

“HEY- THE ONLY GUY CALLIN’ THIS DEKU A NERD IS ME, DUMBASS!! YOU’RE THE SHITHEAD GOING TO JAIL FOR THAT STUNT– AND HE’S HEADING INTO THE TOP TEN!!”

“HO-OKAY, DYNAMIGHT, I think he’s had enough!!” 

Deku corrals the punk’s restraints a bit, but leaves the remaining process of reading rights and detainment for the police who just rolled up. Deku will proudly share that much prefers this ‘thick as thieves’ treatment to the ‘fight me or die’ dynamic they shared in school, and couldn’t be happier to be Pro Heroes once again.

And if Bakugou were completely honest, so was he. He’s in his element and closer to reaching his goal by the day.

Walking out of earshot from the police unit, the two are heading over to Ingenium and Creati who are deeply engrossed with the intelligence officers who just arrived on the scene. 

“Ten it is, then– you really need to start leaving some to me though; I can handle it, you know,” Midoriya slips his facemask down, exposing a pleading grin Bakugou still kinda wants to punch some days. “Might give you a little time to actually take a rest day now and then!”

“Tch, if you were fast enough, you’d do it, ‘Zuku.” Bakugou straightens out his gauntlet, but misses his best friend’s tilt of a frown. “N’ who said I need a rest day, anyway? I’ve never been better!”

“I can think of one person..” Midoriya hinted strongly at something that truly escaped Bakugou’s focus. Every now and then, he couldn’t quite mindread the nerd like normal, if he was deep in work mode.

“Heh?”

Midoriya raised a friendly, tired brow, “How’s your girl been lately, hm?”

Bakugou tenses a touch, but quips back, “Whaddya mean. She’s fine, been working a lot too.”

“Not as much as you. What’s she up to? You haven’t said much about her.”

Which was an oddity, indeed. Your successes, your insights, and even your random memes were common topics of conversation from Bakugou’s lips. But Midoriya did raise a finer point between the lines– you’d been put on something of a backburner, and he knew better that something must be off for the blond porcupine to rarely speak of you. Bakugou sensed it himself, but the more repeated check-in texts he received, the cycle of his non-answers worsened. This must be what the nerd is getting at.

“She’s fine-” Bakugou pressed, assuring himself and no one else, “Look, we’ve got our flow, and it works. I keep her in the loop when I’m busy and she gets it.”

Midoriya heaves a disbelieving breath, and just fixes Bakugou a look.

“What’s that shitty look for, huh? Whaddyou know?!”

“I know when she texted me yesterday that she doesn’t sound thrilled about your overtime…” the freckled sweetheart touched a personal chord within Bakugou. “Or that she hasn’t even heard from you to talk about it? I mean, I-I know it’s not my business, but Ka-”

“Deku, Dynamight!” Iida waved the two over from their aside, and back into work mode- to Bakugou’s drop in spirit, “We have a bit of a time-sensitive mission to take care of~”

Deku turned to the officer, raring to go and and straightening up his shoulders to address their more formal counterparts, “Of course, officer- how can we help?”

“Well sirs, we’ve got an ongoing heist over on the other side of the riverbank, and need a bit of coordination to respond.”

Yauyorozu had just finished off a protein pack of some sort and had demurely crumpled its trash in her hand while navigating an ipad passed to her. She’d welcomed Midoriya over when he took interest in whatever footage she’d been presented.

“Well shit, we supposed to be standin’ around like this when time’s wasting, or what?” Bakugou asked brusquely.

Ingenium -in his formal, helmeted fashion couldn’t hide his practiced patience well with the hothead in his response;

“The need for firepower is necessary, Dynamight– but caution is as well,” Iida reminded dryly. “We are in a heavily populated area, and must exercise control.”

Bakugou merely purred a low growl and turned diplomatic.

“Fine. We got live wires? Hostages?”

“To our knowledge, only a select few- a dozen at most,” the officer answered, “We can see most of the victims through the bank’s glass lobby. It’s a small, petty theft group- or so we thought, but there are some decent quirk users among them. Seems they are after more than funds, but records as well.”

Bakugou refrained from rolling his eyes, but only barely. Surely there were bigger and better missions to be pursuing than this– something a bit flashier, more suited for his skills with higher civilian rescue numbers to add to his count.

“One guest was able to contact via the emergency text line, and reported that someone did pull an emergency trigger and was taken further back into the vaults as a prisoner.”

Iida empathized, “Hardly fair- I’m sure none of these customers were armed, and they were simply acting as any hero would trying to notify the authorities.”

The officer firmed up a smile in agreement and proceeded to share some more info about how far back into the bank the team would need to infiltrate based on proximity to servers. 

“Sure you don’t just wanna call ‘Tape’, bust in there, strap ‘em up, and call it a day? Y’don’t really need a whole evac team, do you.”

A simple rescue in-and-out should be easy enough, or so he assumed- until Yaoyorozu took a bit of a sharp intake of breath in her nose, alerting Deku to fixate on the screen again,

“Bak- erm. Dynamight,” Yaoyorozu interjected gently, “-you need to see this-”

Bored and still half paying attention to the officer, Bakugou only barely looked Momo’s way, and didn’t really feel like a crowd around a tiny screen -in full sun- was warranted.

“What? It’s frickin’ bright out-”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya shot back icily, “get over here.”

Something alarming had struck him in the face, and he was purposefully putting on a front to those not personally connected to the heroes. Sidestepping ‘Legs’, Bakugou was passed the ipad and played back the security footage of the interior of the bank.

Time stamped at just fifteen minutes ago, a civilian in question had tried dipping around the counter to where some clerks had been bullied up to the opposite wall- but one of the employees jerked her head towards one of the registers- a lightning quick gesture. This cued the civvie -a woman, if the hiked up skirt was a correct indication- in the foreground to feel around the bottom lip of the keyboard for something- likely an alarm switch. Once done so, she’d merely knelt back down, hoping to stay low and sneak back to avoid the thug to lash out at the person who’d tipped her off.

But then -comically enough- the thug sneezed and unfortunately whipped to the side to let it fly. Looking up, there she was in his sightline. With something akin to a spider’s web knocking her flat onto her back, she’d been dragged up and back with the others- trying to ground herself with a squatted stance first, tried to force her elbows back, then bashing her head back in an attempt to hit her captor– until she was ultimately slapped and taken back to the far hallway, hunched over.

Bakugou saw red. His heart stopped then set itself on fire, hotter than Hades. He’d known that self defense response from having taught it, himself.

You pulled the alarm. 

For the first time in his career- he knows the target he’s saving. He’s in love with her, after all.

Damn your neck hurts. If your elbows hadn't been glued up to your sides, you woulda used those instead; but now having jerked your head back, you’d given yourself a healthy dose of whiplash.

And got a punch to the gut. And a slap to the face. Joy.

There’s fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. You’d seemingly gone for the fight route, with your body moving before your self-preservation could catch up, but it seems your fawning tactic of remaining calm and quiet wasn’t working out for you now. At least you took the attention off those poor girls in the lobby who were in near hysterics. 

Only now it seemed you’d taken on the role yourself, back here. You try to breathe deep, drop your shoulders, drop your jaw. You’d think this would double to avoid showing any fear that your captors can use against you, but it’s honestly just to help keep you grounded and not panic and curb the intense need to vomit or cry.

Please. As if you’d even call yourself heroic for pulling the theft alarm– but you suppose it’s instincts. Carry-over bravery: osmosis you assume, from hanging around these heroes. Your hero. Katsuki.

You’re stunned– you’re shocked– and you’re scared. 

Katsuki. You want Katsuki. More than the police, more than your mom. 

You want your hero to come for you, over any other in this entire country. The name pounds behind your eyes when you shut them against a wave of pain, the person you want more than anything else in the world.

–And at the same time, that man’s name hurts at the cry for it: given he hasn’t spared you more than a one or two word response in days. Because he’s overworked by his own volition. By his own drive. And you should be angry. You have been, for this is the longest you haven’t seen each other outside of a trip; considering you’ve all but committed your lives together and he’s typically at your place every other night, the drop in communication is a cold bath.

And you’re scared now- it’s a blurry feeling. Time is wonky when you’re stuck in a room with no windows, no visible clock and just waiting. All those tips they tell you about how to react in an emergency to keep calm? The ones you’ve heard over and over again in security briefings and teacher preparedness days before the school year starts? Man, is it easy for those to go out the window when you’re in actual trouble.

You just want Katsuki. And that’s a silly thought, considering how wide the city is. He could be clear across the district right now.

But just saying the name -thinking of any other pleasant time when he had his arms around you play-fighting that could make these bindings feel more bearable- that’s what you want to cling to.

The villains here are pretty pathetic as interrogators go, but that spares you no calm as they taunt you as if you were a captured magistrate or politician. They’re split into two parties; their head honcho trying to tap into the databanks of the servers two doors down while your immediate captors with the creepy quirks are choosing to go through your recovered phone seeking out blackmail like the assholes they are. Your primary apps for insurance and paying your bills are thumbprint protected, so really what could they get to that's confidential? Nothing, to your knowledge. But it seems your camera roll strikes their interest. 

Oh yeah, they hit low. They see your lock screen first- a sweet photo of your harmless, dopey dog who they snark that you won’t be home to feed on time. Then even more, as your home screen displays a picture-perfect selfie of you and your darling man. You picked it because it’s rare proof of him smiling at some wisecrack you made before snapping the shutter.

Your handsome and infuriatingly busy man. 

“Aww, well just look at little miss hero’s cute lil boyfriend! Bet he’ll be awful proud of you playing the savior~”

“Tehehe, too little too late though, yeah? Gotta be quicker than that for us.”

“Geez, how sappy can you get. This guy’s all over her…and can’t blame him, honestly. Makes me feel a little bad for roughing such a pretty thing up.~”

Gross. Just gross. You act like you don’t listen, your simpering pain turns to nausea the more they talk. Until a renewed sense of fear hits:

“Wait- go back. Oh. Ohhh shit, no.”

“Whuh.”

“Fuck, man, that’s DYNAMIGHT!!” the jerk with the copious amounts of tattoos and chains draping off his arms like whips gets nervous real fast, “We have Dynamight’s girlfriend!!”

Your other guard seems to swallow for a split second, but immediately tips to a feigned dominance,

“Well, ain’t that just icing on the cake~”

“THE HELL DO YOU MEAN? He’s gonna come after her!! You know how scary that guy is?! I’m telling the boss-”

“Don’t wimp out already,” he fires back. “Why do that and waste time- when knowing this, we could get paid double? Heroes ransoms can cost him a pretty penny, and you know he’ll do it for her. Those heroes make bank.”

You flatten your brows angrily. 

“Whaddya think, princess? Big man gonna come and save you, huh?  

You really want Katsuki. But you truly have no idea if he’d know or care to come at this point. The spiral downwards in the mind is dizzying along with your headache, and just makes your heart sick for him. 

When you see him next, you’re not sure if you’d hug him or throttle him. Though now, you just wanna see him. 

“Unless.. He doesn’t!” his mood shifts- patronizing, “Too busy makin’ a paycheck and name for himself and all his hero buddies than to settle down and think about the pretty thing at home? Well, I would fix that real quick–”

A muffled boom sounds on your right. Rooms away.

Another, louder. Two beats after, the guards look at each other.

You hear a yell, a harsh one, then another blast that sounds cracklier than the rest. Someone’s close. But you’re honestly not sure if it’s friend or foe.

You’re excited, but get nervous again when the lackeys move into action. Chains loops a rough swing of his appendages around you and starts dragging you back into the adjoining office, while the muscle goes back to type at one of their private laptops that’s downloading something.

You give off a flare of panic in your voice- a sound you hate but can’t control. 

“It’s-s not him–” you force your pitch lower, but it shakes despite your best effort. “Cmon, there’s too many heroes, s’not gonna be him–  n’there gonna come an’- bust yall anyway!! Whaddya want me for?!”

As you’re dragged, you catch a glimpse of shine from above you. In the vent, you see mustard yellow and teal saturated with shadow- all metal. Then, his voice, through a comm on his wrist that flashes in the reflected light:

“Got her. Light it up, on your left.” 

Both lackeys drop what they’re doing and look up to see the vent kicked into the floor– and the wall totally blown in from your right. 

Dynamight -the Symbol of Victory- and Deku -the Symbol of Peace- are dropping in at breakneck speed, though the former is out for blood.

“ALRIGHT, WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKERS AM I KILLING FIRST??”

Deku’s landing creates a decent wind with his jump, revealing Bakugou behind where the door usually is, and clocking your position almost immediately. 

It’s a powerful thing, to see him in action- you’ve certainly never seen it in person, and you’ve never heard him this mad. To his credit, he never raises his voice enough for you to fear it.

He spots you and the guy who rushes him, but just snarls, evades his whip of weighted chains entirely, grabs him by the calf, and chucks him into the opposing wall with a spinning throw. Then, he sets straight to you.

“DEKU!!” he shouts to Midoriya, “Trash, at your ten!!”

“On it!” Your angel from the ceiling ducts is currently laying into the other guy, but keeps the reeling villain in his sights before he can get up and strike again. You imagine the sucker has more than a few broken bones (or truly is dead, as promised)… he doesn’t move from his figure on the floor.

While you’re still coughing up a storm from the drywall throwing dust everywhere, Bakugou comes to your side and immediately picks your bound body up in a rush from the chair you were perched on.

“C’mere you-” 

He sounds rushed and spent, huffs it out of the room and into a separate office down the hall. 

You spot Ingenium and Creati moving on to the other end of the hall where you know the final villain remains, but you can already hear the squeals of said wimp once Iida bursts in. This will be quick work for the rest of them, so you weren’t worried Dynamight would be needed anymore.

Inside an executive’s office, Bakugou kicks the door behind him shut with his heel and sets you on the dearest flat surface- a decently sized desk.

“Hey you- you still with me?”

You don’t realize you’re breathing so fast until he’s looking you square in the face with split concern. It’s night and day from when he burst in after one of his more gusty explosions, his voice all cracked and high in pitch.

“Cmon, baby look at me- here, let’s get this crap off of you..”

Your gasps for air turn wet and you can’t keep yourself from crying anymore. It would be notably sweet that he still tries his hardest not to curse wildly around you, but right now you don’t care what font his expletives are in. Every bit of stress leaving your body all at once is a rush for your senses and your emotions.

“Kats~”

After his pocketed knife’s quick, careful work separating your arms from your waistline covered in a still-sticky webbing, he sheaths the blade again and collects you up when you launch yourself at him. 

Bakugou holds you hard and fast and you can’t even be bothered to worry about how his shoulder pauldrons are nearly choking you. He’s got you back in his arms, and he’s just saved your life.

“I’m here,” he grunts to you, relieved beyond measure, “I’m here, sweet’eart. You’re safe.”

You’re so thankful. You’re so happy-

“N’d I am so sorry.

-You’re so confused.

In a flippy tone that betrays what heightened nerves you’d just gone through, you ask, 

“Huh?”

Bakugou’s fingers thread into your hair when you try and pull back-

“Don’t. S’the first.” His iron-sure voice wavers, “I- I haven't hugged you all week.”

Then, you’re both crying into each other, and it’s a healing thing. 

Dragging careful nails across the back of his hero suit, you try to offer a tiny bit of comfort to this mass of man cradling you on this desk. You know you’re still in dire need to talk about his recent absence, but what a reunion this was. Feeling him after a seven or eight day stretch of near radio silence changes the degree of flame you hold against him. Honestly now, you’re in the mind to think he deserves a pass entirely. 

Bakugou finally lifts enough to press a kiss to your head, but makes no move to let go of you. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

Has he? He’s barely texted you past the ‘I’m heading out’ and ‘I’ve gotta sleep’ with no room to offer or reciprocate any form of love between you; so much so, it threatened to make you doubt. 

“Have you? I haven’t heard.”

“No, you haven’t. And that’s all on me.”

You turn your head very slowly- your entire neck is still tender, but you'd rather listen to him with an ear to his chest, where you belong. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you settle on the truth. You might have more to say when you’re not so exhausted, but the truth is you’ll still love him no matter what, and you do always miss him.

You miss every moment, big and small. His wins and losses. Nights where he’s high off a victory or the ones where he’s bone-tired and in his head about how weak he must seem. Nights where he takes out his hearing aids and just wants to fall into your silence to sleep safely, and the mornings where he’s up and ready to go take on the day after he has your kiss and hug to charge him up. Whether he has your chapstick smeared up on his cheek, or the promise of your arms to hold him in whatever state he greets you when he comes home, you just miss him. You notice when he’s not there. The house seeks him out, with lights on for him to find his way inside, and low music to soothe what anger might have followed him home.

You take a few moments to just soak each other in. You hope and pray he’ll come home with you after this.

And thank the Maker, your prayers might just be answered.

“This was a wake-up call, sweetheart.” Bakugou sounds a bit bolder, but still talks softly to you and the dust mites around you, “I’m takin’ a leave. A long one.”

The way he promises time off is something he’s toyed with before, but never followed through on.

“You can’t do that, Kats,” there’s no coldness to the words, but you mean it.

“Yes I can. It’s my race; I can step away.”

You sigh against his pec, “I’m.. I’m not asking you to. I can’t, that wouldn’t be fair.”

To you, sure. But not for his dream. Not the dream he’s worked and fought and lived for since before you met, and long before he fell in love with you. You’d supported him in this chase to save everyone and be the best at what he does from day 1, and you’ve never wavered on that– you still wouldn’t, even if someone asked you now feeling as dejected as you do by his absences–

“Tch. Y’know what's not fair?”

Bakugou finally loosens his grip on you to lift your chin up to him with thick, strong fingers, 

“Leavin’ you for days on end; waiting up, worried sick. Leaving, and just assuming you’ll still be there when I get back. And now you’re getting fuckin’ snatched the minute I turn my back on what we have. That isn’t right.”

The correlation is irrational- this incident today was a freak accident. You couldn’t have planned it- or certainly hope that your identity as his significant other is not going to be weaponized. Shuffle in the hallway beyond tells you that the possibility of that information leaking is sufficiently locked up along with them. 

Surely Izuku would have grabbed your phone– and maybe set you up a new lock screen with a mean mug to poke some fun at ‘Kacchan’.

You slump against him, at the sound that he’s being too hard on himself, and that’s not what you want for him either.

“I just miss you, Katsuki. And I want to see you succeed.” you study the bold ‘X’ across his chest with fondness and heartache mixed, “I want both those things. I just can’t help but wonder if you have to go at it so fast? And so hard, where I never see you? Like you’re racing against the clock to be #1? I just want you there in one piece; I don’t care how long it takes.”

You have no doubt he’s going to land the spot before he’s thirty. You just hope for a balanced ascension to the height of his power and ability. And selfishly… you hope you’re in the picture of his life when he does.

Bakugou hears and you do believe he listens, as he smooths a calming hand up and down your arm all the while.

“And today..” you clam up a bit with an uncontrollable shake, “Today was- scary. But you couldn’t help that. Any more that you can help it from happening t’ anyone. I know that,”

And you look up at him despite the burn it causes you. And -a funny contrast to your still teary eyes- you smile.

“-but you did save me. And that was- honestly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The comment strikes him as funny, too, since he gives a little chuckle.

“Me blastin’ in and causing you to choke on my smoke?”

You nodded briefly.

“Kinda hot, all things considered.”

Unbelievable, his headshake and eyeroll at how easily you can -and will- make jokes. Perhaps it is the shock still, deflecting with humor. 

You do realize how fragile it is because when you laugh at the absurdity, you catch his eye again and you look just a little too long before you’re sniffling. 

The reality is that you could lose him at any time: whether by his end or yours. He’s got the more dangerous job by far, but if today was any indication on your part, you shouldn’t just think yourself as a shoe-in for safety.

Bakugou cups your face in his hands to make himself perfectly clear.

“You’re the hero today, angel. Watched you in 16-bit as you snuck back there, taking that bastard into next week. You saved every- single- one of them.” he placed a kiss on each word as he praised you. “I am so damn proud of you.”

Your hands still skipped, limbs jumpy. 

“I don’t feel like a hero.”

His lashes lured you in as he gazed at you through them, “Doesn’t mean you aren’t one. You did it scared. That’s pretty hot, too.”

You huffed your amusement as he thanked you in his own way. Best to let him carry on before he’s whisked away again. 

Just as you thought he might release you in ushering you out of the office, Bakugou takes you by the hands so that you can stand, then keeps you in place by his immovable stance.

“Things are gonna change,” he vows, “because none of this shit matters if I don’t have you. Yeah I want you now, but I’m gonna want you after my fire’s burnt out. Which means, I gotta pay attention. I have to set ‘who matters’ just as high as ‘what matters’ and remember why.”

Touched by every word, your trembling lessens. You take in his warmth and his care and his explosive loyalty with confidence and nod in agreement.

Taking one last selfish hug, you sink into your hero again, standing more as equals than you usually feel being held by him. He’s lifted you up in more ways than one. Enough to let safety back into your heart, enough to tease,

“That can’t be your line. When did ‘Zuzu’ give you that one?”

“Hey,” Bakugou flicked you in the temple lightly, “I can be nice too, dammit.”

“Sure you can,” you kiss the dip of his neck in apology.

“You’re just always nice, you can’t appreciate the difference.” he pouts, taking your hand and leading you out of the office.

“...Sure I can.”

You have to give him a solid shot– he’s nothing if not insistent with what he wants.

Outside the room, there are a host of officers, photographers, medics and heroes aiding in the recovery efforts, so you relax your hand in his to let go,

–only he doesn’t let you.

Bakugou glances to you, “You’re in shock, extra. You need to get checked out.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Dynamight,” you chortle with a little head bobble like you would have normally done, only now the movement makes you wince.

“That’s what I thought. OI, Deku- where’s her sh-phone?”

The iron hero stands with the receptionists, looks to you both and smiles gratefully, before nodding off to his company and joins you-

“This, I believe, belongs to you, maam~” he perks up as he comes around to your other side. It’s not so much that you have to pretend to be strangers, but in this high-traffic place, it seems easier to fall into roles of ‘heroes’ and ‘thankful public’.

“How kind, Mr. Symbol of Peace~ I’d be missing this!”

Double checking your lock screen, he did -in fact- change your cover screen to a playful selfie: pointing at the crumbled remains of the wall they’d broken into, with the caption:

>>Whatever Kacchan wants, Kacchan gets <3<<

Muting your laugh, you simply tilt your phone Bakugou’s way and catch Midoriya’s quick wink back to you, before he sets off running with a screaming boyfriend sprinting after him.

At least Katsuki showed up back at your place at 6:30PM on the dot, fixed you both a salmon dinner, and started getting your baseline of support back on track. With his next two weeks off and barely keeping his hands off of you so far, you believed he was making good on remembering his why.

[petertingle-yipyip]

LAST NIGHT - BELLAMY BLAKE

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 2,355

Summary: (requested) A drinking game with Monty and Co goes a bit too far. Intending to get back to your own tent, you stumble upon Bellamy and some shock revelations.

You hadn’t been on the Ground long yet it seemed like you never left the Ark. You had convinced Raven to let you stowaway with her in her rebuilt pod and now, you were among friends.

Mostly.

The only caveat - other than the alleged war with the Grounders - was Bellamy Blake.

Not quite friends, not quite enemies, but frenemies didn’t work either. It seemed like you two just couldn’t go a day without arguing or damn near punching each other in the mouth. There wasn’t really any reason to it either. He liked to instigate you and your temper had you engaging in the bickering everytime. It had been that way since you had first met, but you had to admit, it was fun for you too.

Once the flares went up and hope was in the air, liquor was being poured into cups across camp. You took a spot with Monty, Jasper, and Harper, and Jasper did not hesitate to fill your little tin cup as much as he could.

Your group started some nonsense drinking game, and you lost count of the drinks or rounds after about four. If anyone asked, you didn’t know who was winning or losing or even the premise of the game anymore. All you knew was that you had drunk way too much way too fast. When the entire forest was spinning around you, you used the bit of logical thought you had left and decided to make your way to your tent.

Harper offered to help you, but the slurring of her words told you that she was about as lucid as you were. You waved her off and reasoned that you could make it on your own since there were walls around camp now. If there was the potential of you wandering into the empty woods, then you would’ve taken her up on the offer, but you’d be fine.

As you were wandering back, you saw Octavia sneaking out. Curious, you tried to follow. You had gotten all of four steps before you tripped over your own feet and landed on your side. You laughed at yourself and rolled to your back, hands flat on your stomach. Maybe you’d just sleep there.

“What are you doing?” Bellamy asked, suddenly standing over you.

“Sleeping.” You answered.

“Oh, shit.” He sighed and you grinned. “Are you drunk?”

“Are you?” You tried to point a finger at him but ended up gesturing to nothing, which made you giggle.

His hand closed around your wrist and he hauled you to your feet, bringing on another round of laughter. He kept a grip on your arm and guided you through camp, despite your dragging feet and nonsense blabbering. He brought you to your tent but you refused to go in.

Surely he had you turned around. Or maybe that was the liquor buzzing in your head. Regardless. you stomped your foot and told him he was wrong. You pointed to a tent three over and said that one was yours. You could see he was trying to stay patient with you but he didn’t sign up to babysit you as a drunk.

“That’s not yours.” He complained and you squinted in suspicion. “That’s Atom’s.”

“I have an innate sense of di-rec-tion.” You pointed out, holding up a finger. “I know where I’m supposed to be.”

“Alright, Magellan.” He laughed slightly and offered you his hand. “Come with me.”

“Oh no you don’t.” You wagged your finger and hiccuped. “I know how that goes. You bring me to your tent, you play the hero, and you think I’ll sleep with you.”

“No, Y/N, I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He sighed.

“Well why not?” You stomped, now offended. “I’ll have you know I’m spectacular.”

“I’m sure you are.” He rolled his eyes slightly and grabbed your wrist. “But I’m not gonna sleep with you when you’re wasted like this, so come with me… Please.”

You gasped dramatically. “Bellamy Blake knows the word ‘please’? I have to-“ Hiccup. “-tell everyone.”

He sighed slightly before he leaned down and looped his other arm around the back of your leg. You made a face to yourself but before you could say anything, he threw you over his shoulders. You squealed and kicked your feet, banging your fists weakly against him.

“Put me down!” You laughed. “Damn you, Bellamy!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered, but there was amusement in his voice. He carried you to a tent and dropped you on your feet.

You stumbled when your feet hit the floor and you let yourself drop to the floor. You giggled when you landed and looked up at him. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows were raised, as if he expected you to say something. You huffed and crossed your arms the same way.

“You have, like, the biggest tent.” You looked around his space.

“What’s your point?” He sighed.

You threw your hands to the side which made you wobble slightly. Your eyes went big as you regained your balance before you laughed again. You looked back to Bellamy and he was already looking at you.

“You wanna know something?” You said loudly and crawled over to sit across from him.

“You’re gonna tell me anyway.” He crossed his arms again.

“I like your curly hair.” You said simply and he couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. “You always had it like slicked back on the Ark.”

“Thanks?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You thank people for compliments.”

“You’re not usually the compliment type.” He rolled his eyes. “Usually you’re the ‘kicking me in the shin’ type.”

“I could do that too.” You nodded. “But! I will not.”

“Lucky me.”

“Don’t you be mean to me again!” You thrust a finger forward and the sudden movement made you dizzy for a moment. “You’re always mean.”

“Coming from the girl who has a comment everytime I say anything to her?” He commented with a small laugh.

“Because you’re mean.” You glared. “But you’re pretty, so it’s a give and take I guess.” You shrugged.

“Jesus, Y/N.” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “How much did you drink tonight?”

“I don’t like your tone, Blake!”

“And I don’t really care.”

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” You changed the subject. You couldn’t quite remember how much you had.

“What do you mean?” He cocked his head.

“You’re mean to me.” You frowned and counted off your statements. “You don’t laugh at my jokes. You never let me do things. You used to make fun of me on the Ark and that’s why I kick your stupid shins. You always give me that look.”

“What look?”

“That look! Like you’re trying to make me spontaneously combust.”

He shook his head with a disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, I never said I didn’t like you.”

“But you’re mean.” You pouted.

He knelt down in front of you and you pursed your bottom lip.

“I’m gonna tell you this now, because you probably won’t remember it in the morning.” He said quietly, like it was a secret.

You leaned in, reaching for him to keep your steady. He caught your hands and you felt a sobering heat on your cheeks.

“I do like you, Y/N.” He said, wide eyes and a small smile. “It started as a crush when we were kids and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about you, looking for you in the crowds and trying to find an excuse to talk to you.”

“No way.” You whispered.

“I know.” His smile drew a little wider. “I never meant to be mean.”

“You’re not that mean.” You shrugged. “Let’s just say it was banter.”

“Banter.” He repeated with a laugh. “Yeah, alright.”

“Like in those books!” You announced. “Where they act like they hate each other but they’re actually madly in love.”

“Let’s go with that then.” He nodded, that small smile still playing on his lips. “Do you want me to walk you to your tent?”

“I don’t think I could make it back to my tent.” You confessed before a fit of giggles. “I feel like I’m gonna fall over as soon as I get up.”

“What happened to that innate sense of direction?” He asked as he helped you to your feet.

You shrugged. “It seems to have left me.”

“Or you never had it.”

“I still have a foot and you still have shins.” You warned, though the slurring of your words left them without any threat. “Just cause I like you doesn’t mean I won’t kick the hell outta you. It’s called duality.”

He shook his head and helped you shuffle across the tent. Carefully, you two laid down and you felt the world shift as you did so. You made a noise, something like the joking sound of a ghost, and slammed a hand to the blankets. Bellamy’s hand closed over yours and you looked over at him. You broke into a grin and he returned the smile, not as wide as yours but an honest smile.

You shifted over and put your head against his shoulder. He adjusted his arm so it was draped over your chest and you two just laid there for a while. You continued to talk, about anything and everything. A butterfly you saw earlier that day. A conversation you had with Octavia. What you remembered from your earlier drinking game. Before you knew it, you were drifting off to sleep.

And for the first time since you stepped foot on the ground, you truly felt safe.

When you woke up, you had no idea how late into the day it was. Bellamy was still beside you, so you doubted it was that late. Your head pounded as you pushed yourself to sit up and glanced around.

Your brows furrowed as you realized you weren’t in your own tent.

You slapped a hand over your mouth when you realized. You peeked over your shoulder again and it sunk in that you weren’t in your tent. You were in Bellamy’s.

You muttered to yourself in panic as you got up quickly. Your clothes were which both left you relieved and oddly disappointed. At least he didn’t try to hook up with you when you were drunk, but being drunk might’ve been the only way you’d be confident enough to sleep with him.

You snuck a glance outside the tent and saw there weren’t many people around. With a sigh of relief, you stepped out and immediately winced at the brightness of the sun.

“Hello Sleeping Beauty!” Jasper yelled from basically across camp and you cringed as more heads turned in your direction.

You hurried over and whacked him on the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” He complained.

“For making people stare at me!” You hissed.

“What difference does it make?” He laughed. “Oh, I see. You don’t want people to see you coming out of Bellamy’s tent.”

“Shut up!”

“Why? You didn’t have any problems going into Bellamy’s tent last night.”

“Jasper, I swear I will kill you!”

He laughed and threw his arm over your shoulders. “But seriously, Y/N/N. Yesterday you were ready to tear his head off, now you’re tearing his clothes off.”

You elbowed him in the ribs.

“Lay off, Jasper.” Bellamy said, suddenly at your side.

You stiffened for a moment before you hid your face in your hands. You complained to yourself, ignoring whatever the boys were saying around you, and wished to disappear. You peeked between your fingers and saw Jasper leave. Hoping Bellamy left too, you dropped your hands.

You were wrong.

“You feel okay?” Bellamy asked.

“Mortified, actually.” You answered. “But I didn’t kill my liver last night, just a headache. I’m fine, thanks…”

He gestured for you to follow and hesitantly, you did.

“You were pretty drunk last night.” He began as you fell into stride with him.

“Well aware, thank you.” You rolled your eyes. “I do appreciate you not leaving me on the ground. Can’t say I would’ve done the same for you, but…” You shrugged.

Bellamy laughed slightly.

“What?” You asked quickly.

“You don’t remember what you said last night, do you?” He smiled at you.

You were so taken aback by it, the true delight and shine of his smile, that you tripped over your own feet. You landed on your back and groaned, more in embarrassment than anything. Bellamy knelt beside you with an amused smirk and you threw your arms over your face.

“Kill me now.” You groaned. “What did I say last night?”

You wished you could melt into the floor.

“That you’re madly in love with me.”

You could hear the smile he still wore. You sat up quickly and nearly collided with him.

“I did not say that.” You defended quickly. You may not remember much of the night before but you sure as hell would’ve remembered saying that.

“I know, I was shocked. And then you said you just had to have me. You were pretty persistent.”

You squinted in suspicion but he feigned innocence.

“It’s true.” He shrugged.

You kicked his arm since you couldn’t reach his shins, but he just laughed.

“It’s alright, though. Wanna know why?” He smirked.

“Go on and enlighten me.” You rolled your eyes.

“Cause I might be madly in love with you too.”

“Might?” You raised your eyebrows. “So you just let any girl you might be in love with sleep with you?”

“Hey now. You tell people we slept together, they might get the wrong idea.” He offered you a hand to help you to your feet.

“Oh, please.” You scoffed. “It’s gonna take more than a few drinks and those pretty curls to get me in bed with you.”

His hands were suddenly on your waist and he pulled you flush against him.

“Worked last night.” He shrugged.

“Beginner’s luck.” You rolled your eyes. “Bet it won’t happen again.”

“You’re on.”

“And when I win?”

“When I win, you’ll be in my bed. If you win, I’ll be in yours.”

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE GRID'S REACTION

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the grid reacts to the news!

content warnings. some drivers are acting like assholes, some cursewords, 23!grid

notes. have another reaction chapter hehe

daniel ricciardo Guys

Guys wake up

IT'S IMPORTANT

lando norris ???

daniel it's 5am, why are you spamming rn

carlos sainz It's summer break, why can't you all shut up for once

daniel ricciardo Did no one see the news? Stark is coming to F1

carlos sainz To a race?

daniel ricciardo No you shithead, he's making a team

charles leclerc !!!!

lando norris at this point you'll never win monaco (because once stark joins, there no longer will BE monaco) charles leclerc Fuck you, nowins

daniel ricciardo This is serious... Tony fucking Stark wants to create an F1 team for the next season. @/max verstappen your winning streak will be over

charles leclerc Next season??? I thought for 26?

lewis hamilton Of course he would do that

charles leclerc Lewis, explain?? daniel ricciardo Yeah Lewis, please explain?

lewis hamilton Did any of you ever meet Tony? He will probably see the next season as test for the 2026 season. To train his mechanics and engineers and go all out. I bet many are saying it's a waste of money

carlos sainz It is a waste of money.

daniel ricciardo Yeah, they do. Reactions vary but 'experts' are saying that Tony is just wasting his time and should properly prepare for 26

lewis hamilton Knowing him, he already has a fully built car for 2026 and it's a beast.

fernando alonso Only the best for his daughter!

charles leclerc What. lando norris wdym his daughter??

george russell Why are you all awake at this bloody hour?

kevin magnussen Read the room. Everyone is in schock.

sergio perez Stupid. She will fail like every woman in motorsport with a rich father. Too dramatic.

lando norris i'm still confused???

oscar piastri Tony Stark has three children. Harley Keener-Stark, Y/n L/n-Stark, Peter Parker-Stark. Y/n is his only biological child and currently racing in Formula 3. She won Formula 4 last year.

charles leclerc I thought he only had sons?? When did Y/n appear? oscar piastri She 'appeared' the first time in January this year as Tony's daughter, no one knew before. lando norris how did you know? oscar piastri Google exists.

carlos sainz So daddy's money... great.

max verstappen I swear to god I will leave this chat the next time you all decide to fucking gossip at 6am like old women

daniel ricciardo It's important news!

max verstappen No it's not. Stark will be in F1 for a few years maximum and then leave again. It will pass

daniel ricciardo @/lewis hamilton you here? Don't you have anything else to add??

Fine, I'll guess I just ask the rest of the grid, you fucking bore.

daniel ricciardo @/everyone wakey wakey, it's time to wake up and talk!

mick schumacher Daniel? What's up?

george russell Ignore him. He has been annoying us because Tony Stark is coming to F1 and no one really cares. charles leclerc Lies and slander! I care!! lando norris yeah! me as well, idk what you're yapping abt

carlos sainz It's bullshit.

arthur leclerc Why do I have a bad feeling about Monaco...

ollie bearman THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN THINKING bianca bustamante It will be something for sure

lance stroll Well, I'm just happy to see another friendly face at the paddock :)

carlos sainz Of course you know Stark.

lance stroll You're just jealous esteban ocon As am I??? I'm your best friend AND MY BEST FRIEND HAS THE POTENTIAL OF KNOWING SPIDER-MAN???? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME???????

daniel ricciardo I want everyone who knows anything related to Stark to immediately share with us because Lewis is ignoring me and I need to know. The only info we have right now, is that Stark will make a F1 team and that's it. I refuse to believe that's it. So, @/mick schumacher @/lance stroll spill the beans.

mick schumacher He didn't say anything last time I saw him, so I can't help you much.

lance stroll I know nothing, ask my dad.

daniel ricciardo I don't believe you.

pato o'ward If they say they don't know anything, then they don't? I don't know what's the problem, just wait for the next press release

max verstappen Do you even know Daniel. He's unable to wait for gossip. And he classifies this as gossip

daniel ricciardo Gee, thanks, feeling the love here

nico hülkenberg I wake up to 100+ notifications, why are you all like this?

kevin magnussen They're all idiots.

kevin magnussen @/tony stark could you please speed up with the press release? Daniel is setting all grid chats on fire and it's not funny anymore.

y/n stark ha, weak ass bitch kevin magnussen Watch your mouth missy

tony stark Should I tag Seb in a Tweet to announce it?

peter stark do it y/n stark do it harley stark do it

pepper potts-stark Don't do it. We will proceed with the plan. No matter how annoying the people in your private life are.

kevin magnussen Yes, ma'am, sorry for asking.

sebastian vettel I deserve more than a Tweet at 10am.

y/n stark speak your truth king peter stark sorry for suggesting otherwise (@/yn stark stop being such an attention seeker, we all know seb loves charles the most) y/n stark but charles is not here rn is he?

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen EXPLAIN YOURSELF?!

carlos sainz What is going on now...

charles leclerc KMAG FOR STARK???? I didn't put this on my bingo card, now I lost 100 bucks. Fuck you Kevin

arthur leclerc Pay up bitch

oscar piastri Well done, man

nico hülkenberg And so he leaves he burning, ever sinking ship... the true hero- sorry, I meant coward

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen I KNOW YOU'RE ONLINE YOU COWARD, COME HERE

I just want to talk to you

kevin magnussen No.

*kevin magnussen has left the chat*

fernando alonso There is your answer

several people are typing...

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel, @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024