#lawyer mc

[tiger-grace]

watching saiki k is essentially watching a character who absolutely hates slice of life stories and is doomed to forever be stuck in one

[voiceofthesilly]

His regina george ass is getting horrored

[moosemaster]

playing blooming panic again...they truly crack me up

[writterings]

the thing they don't tell you about most mlm romance books is that they fucking suck ass

[infamous-if]

Hey Amy! Thanks so much for this story, you've created a world so immersive and colorful, and I am on the edge of my seat for what comes next!

I just wanted to ask if we will we learn what happened in the days between the vote and fight night?

Did MC and Seven not talk and clear things up with each other after the votation? I don't understand why Seven would have an outburst like that if they and MC managed to discuss the issue of Seven being taken off lead vocals. I thought the two were bestfriends and/or partners? How do two people so "attached" to each other not talk about such a huge decision? Did Seven or MC just go poof after the vote, only to return the night of the party?

I understand that it may be spoiler-y for you to answer, but I just wanted to clear things up and develop a timeline. I think knowing what happened between the vote and the party will help me (and perhaps other players) understand if Seven's actions were warranted.

Thanks again for taking the time to read this ask and for infamous!

I mentioned this in passing but Seven sort of kept their feelings down for the sake of the band until they couldn’t take it anymore. So outwardly Seven was trying their best to be okay with it even if they weren’t. They didn’t go “poof” they were still around and tried to do the background vocals thing and realized they’re useless in the band, which sort of made how they felt about it even worse. Seven did try. They hated it, but they tried. And no matter how attached two people are, there will always be some things harder to talk about than others.

I mean…Seven can sort of say the same too? “How can someone who claims to be attached to me be okay with this when they know all I wanted was to be a lead singer?”

Seven didn’t want to ruin anything but they also couldn’t keep their feelings down for too long. Of course they talked about it but it was more that they didn’t go deeper than what it was.

Basically, if they talked about how sev felt about it, it would’ve been:

Mc: “are u okay with this?”

7: “yeah whatever”

So two problems here: 1) MC didn’t inquire further and 2) 7 didn’t share how they really felt. 7 was obviously bothered but if they said they’re alright… there’s not much MC can do if 7 insists they’re fine even when it’s obvious they’re not

Then having an outburst in that way was more from the alcohol lmao instead of sharing their feelings calmly, it was more of a dam that broke.

Like I said, it’s a lot of nuances and just,,,,very messy haha

Also thank you so much!! Glad you like it!!!

[lavenderjewels]

higuruma is a great character for many reasons, but one of those is how supportive he is towards yuuji because i also was willing to put my life on the line to defend yuuji itadori moments after meeting him

[canarydarity]

after two years of playing minecraft I guess you coudl say im still learning things haha. and by "learning things," well, i mean. nothing at all.

[just-another-star-47]

🌶 NSFW 🌶

@vienguinn drawing of law student Seb made me do things. 😅 Sadly I'm incapable of writing wholesome and healthy relationships, so now you have to deal with lawyer Sebastian and thief f!MC. 😅

It turns to soft smut, but is focused more on feelings than what they are doing, so only mildly explicit. (Still smut, though.)

~ 1700 words

If you want to read the 'original' version with my OC Luscinia, find the second GIF, it's posted below. 😊 (The difference is actually just the use of her name and the mention of one of her features..)

She sat quietly on the hard wooden bench, her face expressionless, her arms crossed in front of her chest. From the corner of her eye, she saw one of her cellmates walking up and down in the small rectangle available to them, his head bowed, his arms repeatedly thrown into the air in an inner monologue. In contrast, another fellow inmate had made himself comfortable on the stone floor, his loud snoring revealing that he had fallen asleep in his intoxication.

She, on the other hand, continued to stare at the barred cell door, her position unchanged for hours, while she waited patiently.

When her name was called, her gaze flickered to the police officer, a hint of a smile on her lips as she noticed the person behind him.

She stood up and walked to the cell door, hands on the bars, eyes on him, as the policeman unlocked the door.

His hair was damp, curling messily along his temples and forehead, leaving a dark stain on his clothes at the nape of his neck. Instead of the usual suit, he wore a grey, washed-out hoodie and jeans, the trainers also the first thing he had grabbed when he hastily dressed.

He held her gaze even as she stepped out of the cell, the flicker in the dark brown eyes the only emotion on his face. He remained silent, his arm around her upper body, his hand pressing against her lower back, guiding her out of the police station.

Whenever they passed a policeman, his fingers dug into her waist, pulling her closer to him so that she could smell the freshness of his shower gel, which still clung to him.

Without saying a word, he manoeuvred her to his car, which was parked crookedly on the pavement in front of the police station steps.

‘Oh, new?’ she looked at the dark green sports model, which caused some of the passers-by to take out their phones, but Sebastian ignored her question, silently opened the passenger door for her and got behind the wheel.

With a sweep of his gaze, he made sure she was strapped in before steering the car onto the road, revving the engine louder than necessary.

For a while they sat in silence, her eyes skimming over his profile, before she looked back at the road ahead.

‘You're angry with me.’

He didn't answer, but shifted gears energetically as he accelerated.

‘I can't bail you out every time.’

‘Oh?’ She leaned her arm against the door and turned her body towards him with a smile.

‘You're a lawyer. Isn't that one of your responsibilities?’

His fingers clenched around the leather wheel and she could clearly see the tension in his jaw muscles.

‘MC...’

‘Sebastian.’

Shaking his head, he stepped on the accelerator again.

‘You're going too far.’

She snorted and rolled her eyes, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

‘You help company bosses and rich snobs to get out of trouble. It shouldn't be too hard for you to get a suspected thief out of jail.’

A tense silence once again spread between them, stretching until Sebastian's gaze flickered over her figure and his hand found her face.

Warm fingertips stroked over her skin, down to her chin, turning her head towards him to meet his warm eyes.

‘But you're all right, aren't you?’

She held his gaze until he had to turn it back to the traffic.

‘I have my knight in shining armour, of course I'm fine.’

A small grin played around his lips, his hand dropped from her chin to her thigh, gently pressing into the sensitive flesh beneath the fabric of her trousers.

That was how it had been between them since he had decided to represent his first multi-million dollar company and thus increase their wealth, while she decided to steal money and valuables from the very people who were at the top.

They belonged to two different worlds that collided again and again when the police began to get on her trail and he made sure that the investigations were stopped. It was a strange connection that they shared; the more he gained in influence, the more daring her actions became, the more tense their relationship and the more intertwined their destinies.

It was unnecessary for him to ask where he should go, since it was clear that she would spend the night in his apartment, the moment she got into his car.

‘Are you changing, dear?’ he asked, taking two wine glasses from his cupboard and filling them, watching her shape discreetly until she disappeared into the bedroom.

Only one side of the bed was rumpled, shirts and suit trousers were scattered around, too many books were piled on the bedside table. He was obviously suffering from sleep problems again. But the comment that they were caused by his conscience, which he was trying to ignore, would only end in an argument.

She walked over to the dresser that was reserved for her alone, even though she didn't live here and never had. She opened the first drawer, her fingers running over lace and silk fabrics before she selected a lingerie set that had been added recently. She stroked the soft fabric, the silk ribbons and leather straps that wound around her body as she put the set on.

He knew her colours and sizes exactly, which fabrics she liked to wear on her skin, how her heart began to beat wildly when delicate leather pressed against her curves. Straightening her hair, she admired herself in the mirror, turning once around her own axis before she stepped into the living room.

Sebastian had made himself comfortable on the couch, one arm stretched out on the backrest, his jeans exchanged for a pair of jogging trousers, his upper body bare.

His eyes immediately fixed on her, held her gaze for a moment and then travelled along her body as she moved closer. He licked his lips, his eyes dark and impatient, leaning forward, reaching for her as soon as she was close enough.

His fingers left a tingling sensation on her skin as they slowly explored every detail of her body.

‘My beautiful girl...’

Words whispered against the softness of her belly, his lips caressing her curves. He pulled her closer to him, hands grasping her waist and slowly sliding down as his kisses became more unbridled.

With a slap that made her jump, they finally landed on her bottom, kneading the flesh.

‘God, you drive me crazy. Looking so perfect in that stuff.’

His fingers dug into her buttocks until they turned the skin red, his teeth grabbed one of the leather straps, pulled it away from her body and then let it snap back. Her gasp brought a satisfied grin to his face and he eagerly pulled her onto his lap.

‘Come here...’ His lips found hers in a hungry kiss that sends a fire through her entire body. She felt his arousal through the fabric of his trousers, her hips intuitively rolling against his in search of more stimulation. He groaned against her lips, a throaty, urgent sound that spurred her on to intensify the kiss even further.

She kept telling herself that this behaviour was merely a deal, a kind of payment for his help, but the way she pressed herself against him, how her lips impatiently pressed against his and how tenderly the tips of her fingers ran along the contours of his face, betrayed her.

‘I've missed you...’ Tender words, spoken almost fearfully, while his mouth began to explore her body again, lingering on the spot on her neck that made her tremble.

‘I missed you too...’ A whispered confession that made Sebastian redden that very spot, suck and nibble on it until the veins burst and left dark dots on her skin. A marked spot that he knew she wouldn't cover up.

‘You still belong to me, right?’

It was a question he asked every time, and his body tensed as if he didn't already know the answer.

‘I still belong to you, yes, sir.’

The sound that escaped his throat was breathless; a deep growl as he grabbed her and pushed her onto the couch, shoving his body between her legs.

With each passing moment, worries, thoughts and reservations faded away, gently replaced by murmured praise and fiery caresses. Her body writhed in ecstasy, pressing against every touch of his until she was ablaze, the flames crashing over her head, condensing into an inferno that only he was able to control.

He let her struggle until she begged for more, each pleading whimper an affirmation of how much she needed him.

Despite their differences, their arguments, their inability to give up their lives for a partnership. It filled him with a kind of satisfaction that was quite close to the feeling of contentment of a peaceful coexistence. This satisfaction, coupled with the passion and the indescribable feeling of being inside her, made him see stars.

Their bodies moved in a practised dance against and with each other. His name fell from her lips as he gave her everything he was capable of. They left traces on each other – imprints of teeth and fingers, deep gazes and touches that burned themselves into their souls. His hand around her neck took away her breath, just like the red string on their fingers.

As they lay pressed together, breathing heavily, Sebastian buried his face in her neck, embracing her with both arms, their bodies still joined, pulsating after the all-consuming high.

‘Promise me you won't sneak out in the middle of the night this time,’ he grabbed her, pulled her closer to him, ‘please..’

She hesitated, not knowing whether she would be able to bear sleeping next to him as if everything were fine. Seeing his tousled hair after waking up, his half-closed eyes that only opened fully after a cup of far too strong coffee. Hearing the scratchiness in his voice when he still sleepily lapsed deeper into his Scottish accent. The smell of his skin, intensely of the night's activities, unadulterated by any care products. The feeling of his skin so close to hers, warm and delicate under her fingertips, as she ran her fingers over every single freckle.

She took his hand, played with his fingers, kissed each fingertip, while her breath calmed down.

‘I promise.’

She sat quietly on the hard wooden bench, her face expressionless, her arms crossed in front of her chest. From the corner of her eye, she saw one of her cellmates walking up and down in the small rectangle available to them, his head bowed, his arms repeatedly thrown into the air in an inner monologue. In contrast, another fellow inmate had made himself comfortable on the stone floor, his loud snoring revealing that he had fallen asleep in his intoxication.

She, on the other hand, continued to stare at the barred cell door, her position unchanged for hours, while she waited patiently.

When her name was called, her gaze flickered to the police officer, a hint of a smile on her lips as she noticed the person behind him.

She stood up and walked to the cell door, hands on the bars, eyes on him, as the policeman unlocked the door.

His hair was damp, curling messily along his temples and forehead, leaving a dark stain on his clothes at the nape of his neck. Instead of the usual suit, he wore a grey, washed-out hoodie and jeans, the trainers also the first thing he had grabbed when he hastily dressed.

He held her gaze even as she stepped out of the cell, the flicker in the dark brown eyes the only emotion on his face. He remained silent, his arm around her upper body, his hand pressing against her lower back, guiding her out of the police station.

Whenever they passed a policeman, his fingers dug into her waist, pulling her closer to him so that she could smell the freshness of his shower gel, which still clung to him.

Without saying a word, he manoeuvred her to his car, which was parked crookedly on the pavement in front of the police station steps.

‘Oh, new?’ she looked at the dark green sports model, which caused some of the passers-by to take out their phones, but Sebastian ignored her question, silently opened the passenger door for her and got behind the wheel.

With a sweep of his gaze, he made sure she was strapped in before steering the car onto the road, revving the engine louder than necessary.

For a while they sat in silence, their eyes skimming over his profile, before she looked back at the road ahead.

‘You're angry with me.’

He didn't answer, but shifted gears energetically as he accelerated.

‘I can't bail you out every time.’

‘Oh?’ She leaned her arm against the door and turned her body towards him with a smile.

‘You're a lawyer. Isn't that one of your responsibilities?’

His fingers clenched around the leather wheel and she could clearly see the tension in his jaw muscles.

‘Lu...’

‘Sebastian.’

Shaking his head, he stepped on the accelerator again.

‘You're going too far.’

She snorted and rolled her eyes, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

‘You help company bosses and rich snobs to get out of trouble. It shouldn't be too hard for you to get a suspected thief out of jail.’

A tense silence once again spread between them, stretching until Sebastian's gaze flickered over her figure and his hand found her face.

Warm fingertips stroked over her skin, down to her chin, turning her head towards him to meet his warm eyes.

‘But you're all right, aren't you?’

She held his gaze until he had to turn it back to the traffic.

‘I have my knight in shining armour, of course I'm fine.’

A small grin played around his lips, his hand dropped from her chin to her thigh, gently pressing into the sensitive flesh beneath the fabric of her trousers.

That was how it had been between them since he had decided to represent his first multi-million dollar company and thus increase their wealth, while she decided to steal money and valuables from the very people who were at the top.

They belonged to two different worlds that collided again and again when the police began to get on her trail and he made sure that the investigations were stopped. It was a strange connection that they shared; the more he gained in influence, the more daring her actions became, the more tense their relationship and the more intertwined their destinies.

It was unnecessary for him to ask where he should go, since it was clear that she would spend the night in his apartment, the moment she got into his car.

‘Are you changing, dear?’ he asked, taking two wine glasses from his cupboard and filling them, watching her shape discreetly until she disappeared into the bedroom.

Only one side of the bed was rumpled, shirts and suit trousers were scattered around, too many books were piled on the bedside table. He was obviously suffering from sleep problems again. But the comment that they were caused by his conscience, which he was trying to ignore, would only end in an argument.

She walked over to the dresser that was reserved for her alone, even though she didn't live here and never had. She opened the first drawer, her fingers running over lace and silk fabrics before she selected a lingerie set that had been added recently. She stroked the soft fabric, the silk ribbons and leather straps that wound around her body as she put the set on.

He knew her colours and sizes exactly, which fabrics she liked to wear on her skin, how her heart began to beat wildly when delicate leather pressed against her curves. Straightening her hair, she admired herself in the mirror, turning once around her own axis before she stepped into the living room.

Sebastian had made himself comfortable on the couch, one arm stretched out on the backrest, his jeans exchanged for a pair of jogging trousers, his upper body bare.

His eyes immediately fixed on her, held her gaze for a moment and then travelled along her body as she moved closer. He licked his lips, his eyes dark and impatient, leaning forward, reaching for her as soon as she was close enough.

His fingers left a tingling sensation on her skin as they slowly explored every detail of her body.

‘My beautiful girl...’

Words whispered against the softness of her belly, his lips caressing her curves. He pulled her closer to him, hands grasping her waist and slowly sliding down as his kisses became more unbridled.

With a slap that made her jump, they finally landed on her bottom, kneading the flesh.

‘God, you drive me crazy. Looking so perfect in that stuff.’

His fingers dug into her buttocks until they turned the skin red, his teeth grabbed one of the leather straps, pulled it away from her body and then let it snap back. Her gasp brought a satisfied grin to his face and he eagerly pulled her onto his lap.

‘Come here...’ His lips found hers in a hungry kiss that sends a fire through her entire body. She felt his arousal through the fabric of his trousers, her hips intuitively rolling against his in search of more stimulation. He groaned against her lips, a throaty, urgent sound that spurred her on to intensify the kiss even further.

She kept telling herself that this behaviour was merely a deal, a kind of payment for his help, but the way she pressed herself against him, how her lips impatiently pressed against his and how tenderly the tips of her fingers ran along the contours of his face, betrayed her.

‘I've missed you...’ Tender words, spoken almost fearfully, while his mouth began to explore her body again, lingering on the spot on her neck that made her tremble.

‘I missed you too...’ A whispered confession that made Sebastian redden that very spot, suck and nibble on it until the veins burst and left dark dots on her pale skin. A marked spot that he knew she wouldn't cover up.

‘You still belong to me, right?’

It was a question he asked every time, and his body tensed as if he didn't already know the answer.

‘I still belong to you, yes, sir.’

The sound that escaped his throat was breathless; a deep growl as he grabbed her and pushed her onto the couch, shoving his body between her legs.

With each passing moment, worries, thoughts and reservations faded away, gently replaced by murmured praise and fiery caresses. Her body writhed in ecstasy, pressing against every touch of his until she was ablaze, the flames crashing over her head, condensing into an inferno that only he was able to control.

He let her struggle until she begged for more, each pleading whimper an affirmation of how much she needed him.

Despite their differences, their arguments, their inability to give up their lives for a partnership. It filled him with a kind of satisfaction that was quite close to the feeling of contentment of a peaceful coexistence. This satisfaction, coupled with the passion and the indescribable feeling of being inside her, made him see stars.

Their bodies moved in a practised dance against and with each other. His name fell from her lips as he gave her everything he was capable of. They left traces on each other – imprints of teeth and fingers, deep gazes and touches that burned themselves into their souls. His hand around her neck took away her breath, just like the red string on their fingers.

As they lay pressed together, breathing heavily, Sebastian buried his face in her neck, embracing her with both arms, their bodies still joined, pulsating after the all-consuming high.

‘Promise me you won't sneak out in the middle of the night this time,’ he grabbed her, pulled her closer to him, ‘please, Lu..’

She hesitated, not knowing whether she would be able to bear sleeping next to him as if everything were fine. Seeing his tousled hair after waking up, his half-closed eyes that only opened fully after a cup of far too strong coffee. Hearing the scratchiness in his voice when he still sleepily lapsed deeper into his Scottish accent. The smell of his skin, intensely of the night's activities, unadulterated by any care products. The feeling of his skin so close to hers, warm and delicate under her fingertips, as she ran her fingers over every single freckle.

She took his hand, played with his fingers, kissed each fingertip, while her breath calmed down.

‘I promise.’

[humbuns]

Finally felt super motivated to draw something for my mc so it's time for Xy (he/they) to be on the spotlight!! 💥💥

[cassie-thorne]

[angstmongertina]

loved in return

Hey, might as well post it here too in the hopes for more dopamine.

We can still post smut on tumblr, right? That’s still a thing? IDK I haven’t written any in ages.

Inspired by the end of Artem’s second bday event (not the card, I promise), though I have been working on it for over a year, whoops.

Cross-posted to AO3.

Do note that this is rated M. :)

She knows from previous experience that it takes about fifteen minutes to get to Artem’s building from hers. At this point, the route, each road and turn, each traffic light and stop sign, even the dance of the shadows from the streetlights across her face, are imprinted in her mind, in the way she subconsciously shifts to adjust to each lane change and turn. But even so, this time, the dark road stretches unending, an eternity in each second, each slow breath.

Each frantic, yearning heartbeat.

Her phone, clutched in her hand, its screen counting down the minutes, seconds, until she sees him again, seems to burn with the memory of his call, of the rasp of his gentle voice in her ear and the realization that the night is still young, that his birthday is not yet over. That she cannot leave him to spend the rest of it alone.

Not when she can be there.

Not when she can be with him.

The driver says nothing, but there is no need to; he must be able to sense her energy, to sense the tension that has her almost shaking, fidgeting with the soft wool of the keychain—still not enough, as she stares into the distance towards him. Towards where she should be.

Towards, perhaps, where she belongs.

When her ride comes to a stop, she is out the door before she is even fully aware of it herself, waving her thanks at the driver as he chuckles under his breath. She can thank him properly later, when she gets a chance to sit down and focus, but for now, she has someone far more important to see.

She lets herself in with the spare key that he gave her—for emergencies, he had said, with that familiar blush on his face, but she’s already used it once today and somehow she doesn’t think he’ll mind—and can only laugh at the tremble in her hand, missing the lock once, twice, before it finally, finally catches and twists under her fingers.

Even before she steps into the room, she can hear hurried footsteps down the stairs and a familiar gentle voice, and she freezes as he rushes into view, one hand still holding his phone to his ear while concern and confusion war openly on his face.

He skids to a stop, opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, she closes the distance between them and throws her arms around his neck, swallowing both his question and his soft noise of surprise. For a moment, he stiffens, and then she feels his arms curl around her waist, pulling her even closer as he returns her kiss with equal fervor.

Without thinking, she presses against him, feels the solidness of his chest, the tenderness of the hand that shifts to the back of her head, the warmth of his lips against hers, until she is lightheaded, almost swaying when she finally pulls away to fill her burning lungs with air.

Whether it’s from the lack of oxygen or just him, it’s hard to be sure.

“I…” The word is more rasp than anything and he shakes his head, clears his throat, though it does little to disguise the hoarseness of his voice, the heaviness of his breathing. “I’m not complaining, but why are you here? Did something happen? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” She reaches up, brushing the faint crease between his eyes with a light touch until he relaxes. “I… I just missed you.” She feels more than hears his chuckle, the low rumble against her chest as he leans down to press his forehead against hers.

“I missed you too.” A gentle finger caresses her cheek, traces a warm path against her skin, and she finds herself having to fight a shiver as it skims along her jawline, trailing down her neck to settle against her chin, tipping her head back for another soft kiss. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She huffs a laugh into his mouth, feels his lips curl into an answering smile, before leaning back, just enough to meet his gaze with a cheeky grin. “I never would have noticed.”

“Oh you…” He shakes his head, but the feigned exasperation is belied by that familiar affection in his eyes, tucked into the corners of his mouth and the gentleness of his voice, that fills her chest with the warmth of his devotion, and this time, this time, she can give into temptation and cut off his sigh with another kiss.

Finally.

It isn’t until she feels the question in his attention that she realizes she said it out loud, and she coughs, turning her head away. “It’s nothing. Just… the way you say that…”

His answering chuckle is low and knowing, enough to set off a spark in her belly, and she pouts, even as she fights off the urge to kiss that smugness—and any thought, really—out of his mind. “I suppose that is something I will have to keep in mind then.”

She snorts, though she can’t help but tighten her arms around his neck. “As if you expect me to believe that you didn’t already know.”

It’s a rare thing to see an expression that is somehow both bashful and smug, but he still manages it all the same, and she rolls her eyes, even as she gives into the temptation to kiss that stupidly self-satisfied look off of his face.

That, it turns out, works much better.

She is almost wondering whether she can forgo conversation entirely, this or other, in favor of more pleasurable activities, when he breaks away, leading her to sit on the couch before she has even had time to process his sudden absence, and turns to fuss with his collar.

“You must be tired. Why don’t you rest for a bit? Do you want something to drink?”

She frowns as he turns away, though it’s still not enough to hide the burning crimson lighting up his ears. “Artem…”

“Maybe tea? Why don’t I make some tea for us—”

“Artem!” Before he can run away, she grabs his arm and he freezes, a faint look of panic darting across his face, which she pointedly ignores. “I didn’t come here to make more work for you.”

He frowns, turning to cast a confused gaze over her. “I know, but—”

“But nothing.” She can feel the heat creeping up her face at her conviction, setting already flushed cheeks even more ablaze, but she ignores it, ignores everything but his small smile, but the shine of those bright blue eyes, familiar and gentle and so very dear. “Artem, I came here to be with you. I want to finish celebrating with you. To take care of you, like you do for me.”

His brows draw into a slight frown. “You already have. You already do, I—”

She reached up to press a finger against his mouth, feels the heat of his protest in his breath, the surprise and acquiescence in the way his warm lips still against her finger. “Not like that.”

“Oh,” he says, and then again, “Oh.” His eyes dart to her mouth and then away again, his face turning even more red than hers feels. “You don’t have to. I mean, I just…” He hesitates, giving a light, somewhat forced, cough. “Are you sure?”

She smiles, getting up to move, slowly, carefully, back into his space. “Do you trust me?”

“Without question.” The reply is instantaneous, heavy with the gravitas he puts into all of his confessions, and she can feel her heart twinge at the realization, at the responsibility, the power, she has been entrusted with.

In response, she steps closer still, into his ever-waiting hold. Looping her arms once more around his neck, she presses herself against him, feels more than hears his low groan muffled against her lips, the sharp inhale as she shifts, and she has to swallow down a soft noise of her own to speak. “I promise,” she murmurs into his mouth, “I want to.”

Her words seem to snap the last of his control; he pulls her even tighter against him, but with that same hesitancy, that same gentleness, that characterizes his every gesture. She moves forward again, pressing her advantage until he’s backed against the couch and it’s his turn to sit, watching her with wide eyes as she moves to straddle his lap.

“We…”

She grins, taking advantage of her new position to brush her lips over his jawline, the curve of his ear, and relishing in the shiver it draws. “Yes?”

He clears his throat, though it does little to hide the flush in his cheeks, the heat lingering in his eyes as he swallows. “We should move this upstairs.”

Smirking, she shifts, feels his shudder as she adjusts her weight against him. “Okay.”

For a moment, it looks as though he means to pick her up, but she pulls away before he can move, sliding back until they are linked only by their hands, his fingers wrapped tightly around hers, even as he stares at her with barely disguised need.

They’ve barely made it up the stairs before she’s back in his arms, kissing him hungrily, desperately. She’s not entirely sure who moved first, but it doesn’t matter, not with her fingers buried in his hair, curled in the stiff fabric of his shirt collar.

She advances into the room, backing him step by step to the bed, where she finds herself once again straddling him, a mess of cloth and bodies and limbs, but she doesn’t care.

How can she, when she manages to finally free him from the shirt and gets to run her fingers across the smooth skin and strong muscles of his chest, the evidence of his morning swims clear across the valleys contouring that pale expanse?

It is not the first time she has seen him bare before her, but even so, she can’t help but stare, drinking in the sight, and the knowledge that this beauty, that he, flushed and wanting and waiting, is for her eyes and her eyes alone.

What an honor.

What a privilege.

Gently, she pushes him onto his back and runs her fingers down his chest, watching it tense and tremble under her touch. His breathing is heavy, one hand clenched in the blankets while the other skims over her back, her arm, in distracting patterns that she has to make an effort to ignore.

Instead, she lets her mouth follow her hand, down from his lips to skim his jaw, and then lower still, against the soft skin of his neck. She kisses his pulse point, feels more than sees the bob of his Adam’s apple, the low moans she coaxes out with lips and fingers. Slowly, reverently, she traces along the planes of his chest, and then lower still to run along his slender waist, once, and then, at his sharp inhale, again with her lips.

When the hand hovering around her waist tightens its grip, fingers pressed firmly into her skin, she pulls back immediately, turns her attention back to his face in sudden panic, but it is not discomfort that meets her gaze. No, instead, she finds the parted lips, mussed hair and shallow breaths, and grins, even as she fights the growing heat in her own belly.

“Do you like this?” she murmurs into the soft curve of his ear, allowing her lips to brush against the heated skin with the same featherlight touch that she trails along his stomach. The question is more teasing than genuine, his body’s answer clear enough in the way he strains towards her touch, in the need and wonder in his eyes as she toys with his waistband. “May I?”

His only answer is a low moan of her name, half-hoarse groan, half-desperate plea, but his meaning is clear enough. Still, she waits, fingers light and teasing. “Are you sure?”

“Please…”

She kisses him in response, swallows his gasp as she lets her hands move, slowly, gently, in their task, sliding along the toned thighs, gliding across the slender calves. When he moves to help, she grabs his hands, pins them down long enough that he can understand her: he is not to do anything, not today.

Today is her turn to take care of him.

After a moment, she can feel him relent, his body relaxing, waiting. Instead, she sits back on her heels, admiring the view, reveling in the effect that she has on him with wonder and satisfaction. He lies before her, flushed and gasping, face full of warmth and need and love, and she can only bite her lip at the realization of the trust she has been granted, of the honor she has been granted.

It isn’t until he shifts, her name a hoarse plea from his lips, that she grins, shaking herself out of her stupor to brush her palm against him. He trembles beneath her touch, and she grows bolder, kissing him again as she curls her fingers around the length of him, gentle but firm.

She swallows his groan as her free hand traces light patterns on sensitive skin, drinking in his every noise and reaction, as sweet as nectar and twice as heady. He is not verbally profusive, but she knows him well enough to read meaning from each gasp and twitch, each moan and shudder. She has always been a quick learner and she’s never had a lesson so intuitive, a study so perfect.

It is intoxicating.

He is intoxicating.

She continues her ministrations, her careful, thorough exploration of him, until he alerts her with a muffled cry that he’s close, shifts a hand from its tight grasp on the sheets to curl gently around hers, encouraging without demanding. His every exhale is a plea, a prayer, against her lips and she slows her movements, feels more than hears him gasp and stiffen, and pulls back to take it all in, to take him in, naked, vulnerable, and hers. All hers.

When he falls apart with a gasp of her name, she is sure she has never seen anything so beautiful.

They get cleaned up in the comfortable silence of the lingering warm glow, punctuated only by his heavy breathing, slowly returning to normal. There is no need to speak, not when she knows, when they both know, that there’s nowhere else she would rather be, nowhere else that she would stay, than here. With him.

Always with him.

It’s not until she’s half-dozing in his arms that she remembers and thinks to break the quiet that has settled over them like a quilt, languidly rolling over to meet his own, sleepy gaze. “Oh, I forgot.”

“Hmm?” She hums softly as he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, his arms shifting lazily to accommodate her new position. “Forgot what?”

“Who were you on the phone with earlier?”

He freezes, a look of horror wiping away the pleasant satisfaction on his face.

When he doesn’t answer her, instead continuing to stare into the darkness towards the stairs, she frowns. “Artem?”

As if on cue, her phone rings with a missed message, echoing throughout the room and she groans, slipping out from under the covers to where her phone had fallen onto the floor, forgotten in the heat of their earlier passion. Frowning, she swipes at it…

Only to find a voicemail waiting for her, from a very, very familiar number.

“Oh.”

Torn between embarrassment and amusement, she navigates to the missed calls, where she finds the notification and taps before she can think otherwise.

Professor An’s calm voice seems to fill the space between them, quiet but with a faint thread of amusement clearly audible. “I had guessed it was you who visited but this certainly confirms my suspicions. I just wanted to let you know that there’s no need to call me back.” Her chuckle held just a tinge of mischief. “I expect it’ll be too late for a phone call by the time you get this message anyway. Just tell my son to hang up the phone before he drops it next time. And if it’s still before midnight by the time you’re done, do wish him a happy birthday for me.”

Before she can even begin to organize her thoughts, he makes a muffled noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Raising an eyebrow, she turns to find him with a hand covering his face, though it does not fully disguise the flush staining his cheeks and brightening his ears, and finds herself fighting a strange urge to laugh.

“That answers that question, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles in reply, half-blocked by his hand, and she bites her lip to keep her mirth contained as she wiggles her phone at him.

“Did you want me to get yours as well?”

He shakes his head, though she can see a barest hint of a smile hidden behind his fingers. “No, we can get it in the morning. Come back, before you get cold.”

She looks down at her naked body, deliberately posing herself in the faint moonlight. “What’s wrong? Not enjoying the view?”

“Oh you…” He chuckles, even as he reaches an outstretched hand towards her. “You know that’s not true.”

Faced with his typical sincerity, she can only relent, taking his hand and letting him tug her back into his arms. “Of course I know.” Grinning, she snuggles closer, resting her head on his chest as she looks up to meet his gaze. “Even your mother knows, if that call was any indication.”

She is rewarded with him dramatically dropping his hand back on his face, though it doesn’t quite disguise his quiet huff of amusement. “She will never let me live that down.”

“Probably not. But it could be worse, you know.”

“How so?”

“She could have been worried and come over to check on you instead.”

This time he audibly groans and she gives in to the urge to laugh, tucking her face into his shoulder to hide an undignified snort and feeling him shake with his own quiet laughter.

When she finally manages to regain her control, it’s to find him reclined back, ears tinged red but with a faint smile still lingering on his lips. Catching her gaze, he raises an eyebrow. “Are you done now?”

“Yup!” She moves closer still, letting her head rest against the crook of his neck as she smiles against his skin. “At least for now. Though she is right about one thing.”

“Oh?” He shifts until she can meet his eyes, soft and sleepy and so full of gentle affection that she finds herself nearly speechless. “What’s that?”

She clears her throat, shifting up and pressing a light kiss to his lips. “It’s not yet midnight. Happy birthday.”

He smiles and she feels his arms tightening around her, keeping her gently in place. “So it is. And it has been,” he murmurs, before kissing her again. “Thank you, my love.”

[peonyblossom]

why wasn’t one of my options to go talk to mr. lewis with my parents???? i feel like mc should have an adult present

[julesskriever]

someone quick get the loa mc to drakovia

[thinkingnot]

why he looks like he bouta discuss stocks margins or sumthin

[cuteniaarts]

What if… Suiren in Vaatu’s colours 😳👀

[nthflower]

I hate Nate fallout tbh like not the concept of male sole survivor but default Nate as sole survivor. He is just what? A soldier who loses his wife and baby how original.

A normal lawyer who loses her husband and baby and then turns into a terminator post apocalypse to find her baby is funnier.

Plus being a lawyer in the post apocalypse is more interesting than being a soldier post apocalypse.

Like a lawman in a lawless world, first trying to find her baby but then fights for the rights of people and against injustice. But this time not only in the courtroom but also with being a double agent and using her fists as her mind. Becoming a defender but in a different way.

Also I hate soldiers and I love women so I am super biased btw <3