#look i will gladly draw either

[pencilofawesomeness]

Okay I am being silly and indecisive at the same time, and I like polls, soooo...

Donnie won the purple slot in the color wheel like the Tumblr blorbo he is. Now for a follow up question:

[suksatoru]

𝝑𝑒 katsuki finds out what you've been drawing in your sketchbook all the time...and to say he's surprised is an understatement.

"y/n."

"hmm?"

your boyfriend lets out a sharp growl, his hands practically itching to reach out and snatch the sketchbook out of your hands

"let me see."

you don't respond, brows pinched together in concentration as you alternate between looking at the charcoal in your hands to katsuki's adorable pout

"you need to wait a little longer...not my fault you're so pretty."

he lets out an embarrassed groan, dragging his calloused palm down his face as he flops face first onto your bed. you let out a whine in protest, slapping his arm

"ow!" you huff, silently scolding yourself for hitting the hard, packed muscle beneath his shirt. he smirks a little bit at your reaction, rolling onto his back and making a show of flexing his muscles as he stretches his arms with a loud yawn

"ya took forever. now, show me what you made." he demands, sitting up expectedly with narrowed eyes

katsuki had been dragged from the common room all the way up to your dorm in a matter of minutes. he'd gladly be dragged by you to the ends of the earth, but he was beyond confused when you ordered him to sit down on your bed and stay still. all until you pulled out your sketchbook.

the light bulb in his mind switched on, and with a quiet "ah", he complied, listening to you quietly chat about anything and everything that came to your mind as you scribbled away in your sketchbook

katsuki has seen you carrying it around a lot. you always kept it tucked under your arm even as you travelled from class to class—never apart. it had, simply put, become an extension to your body at this point

of course he's wanted to take a peak in there. and about a dozen times katsuki tried to—but each time ended with him getting beat with your pillows and plushies as you shoved him out of your dorm, slamming the door on him as he laid in the hall, rubbing his head and silently cursing himself for getting caught once again.

he had kept still and quiet for you while you drew because this was....out of the ordinary. you never really did open your sketchbook in front of him—but here you were now, fingers smudging the paper as you smile sheepishly

"promise you won't laugh?"

he rolls his eyes, trying to keep his usual facade up so you don't detect even a hint of the nervousness he felt

"course i won't. now, either you show me—or i'm taking that damned book from your hands and—"

he's cut off when you suddenly raise it from your lap. pages rustle together as you flip it towards him, hands gripping the edges of your most prized possession as you squeeze your eyes shut and await his reaction

katsuki, was for once, stunned into silence. his eyes trailed over the strokes and marks on the paper, your finger imprints pressed all over the paper from the charcoal—

but what you've drawn is undeniably him.

it's not what he'd expected at all. it's him but...it's not from katsuki's view. it's not the mean face he saw in the mirror everyday. the usual scowl that seemed to be a permanent resident on his face was replaced with a soft smile in your drawing

his eyes were lighter, softer. his cheeks were round and full of boyish youth as he smiled. it was beautiful. he was. he feels his heart stutter in his chest as he slowly takes the sketchbook from your hands, eyes glued to page

"hold on suki—"

he begins flipping. flipping and flipping and flipping and it's all him. katsuki sleeping, katsuki yelling and a frightened little izuku scribbled into the corner of the page—katsuki cooking, katsuki in his hero suit, katsuki—

you suddenly tackle him, and with a yelp—both of you tumble off of your bed and onto the floor. unfortunately, his grip on the book loosens for a mere instant, and you're able to snatch it out of his grip and throw it onto your bed from where the two of you laid on the floor

his lips are parted, but not a sound comes out. his eyes are like the drawing you had just made—soft and gentle and round as he stares up at you.

you're so embarrassed you can barely stand to look him in the eye, resorting to tucking your face into the space between his neck and shoulder with an embarrassed groan

"asshole...you weren't supposed to flip..." you murmur, and katsuki thinks you look pretty with your cheeks flushed and tinted like this. his chest falls and rises slowly, and he made no move to get up off the floor as you caged him there—refusing to let him get up.

"i....gah say something you jerk! you can't humiliate me like that and then get all quiet!" you whine, your voice embarrassed and pitched and katsuki can't even stop himself from grabbing hold of the back of your neck and crashing his lips into yours

he pulls your entire body against him, wrapping a single arm around your waist before he rolls the two of you over and flipping your positions—he hovers over you, pulling away from the kiss just to press another one onto your forehead

"you fucking dumbass...why'd you go and waste so many pages on me..." he mumbles, grabbing your charcoal covered hands as he presses a soft kiss onto your finger tips. you smile bashfully at the smeared streaks of color on his face

"you're my muse." you state simply

his eyes are lined with tears, and his grin is wide and toothy—you want to capture this moment in your pages, the shine in his eyes and the way his lips curled, all of it.

you decide you'll have to draw this particular katsuki later, because he's suddenly launching an attack on you—a flurry of kisses being pressed all over your face and neck and just about any bit of skin he could find as he laughs at the sound of your sweet squeals—music to his ears.

[whateveriwant]

might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;

Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader

Price

Three words: full body massage

That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)

He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his

He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin

Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted

Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)

By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut

Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone

Ghost

We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in

…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is

Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)

You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work

He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home

He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name

I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses

Gaz

He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening

First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining

Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off

The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes

When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet

He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it

Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion

Soap

‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck

However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up

He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you

Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)

He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting

And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there

By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…

[ssahotchnerr]

I hope you meant it to be dropped here 🥺

So, about jealous Y/n: I had been thinking about this after seeing the episode where Beth (that runner-woman?) appears. I thought about the scene, with "y/n" either getting to know he was handed a paper with a number

Or maybe Aaron and "y/n" had been running together and Beth approaches without any care and reader just is like: 🤨 watching the interaction, lol

knowing you

🤭 cw; JEALOUS fem bau!reader, teasing banter (hehe r and aaron are sooo in love), suggestion/sex allusions (i'm blushing), based off of aaron and beth's first interaction in 7x10 wc; 1.3k

"Okay, okay." You panted, coming to a stop. You directed your voice forward, loud enough for Aaron to hear you, a few feet ahead. You resumed walking, slowly, hands on your hips. "Let's take a breather, yeah?"

"What's wrong?" Aaron asked as he met you halfway, a teasing smirk growing on his face. "Can't keep up?"

"I can keep up jus' fine." You insisted, still catching your breath. The afternoon breeze blew into your face, cooling the sheer layer of sweat that had collected. "Just... not for a prolonged amount of time. There's a," Another staggered breath, "difference."

"Is there?" He asked humorously. His chest rose up and down, regulating his own breathing as well. "I can easily go another mile or two.

"Fantastic. I'm so happy for you." You quipped sarcastically, causing him to laugh and a smile of your own pulling at your lips. "And that's why you're the one participating in the triathlon. Not me."

"You know..." He began proposing in a light tone of voice, eyebrows raised wittingly. "There's still time for you to sign up."

"You know, you're funny." You bantered back, a pained expression pulling onto your face at the mere thought. You shook your head, "I think my time is better spent cheering you on from the sidelines, along with the others. And then reviving you afterwards."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled, a fondness in his eyes. All banter aside, he switched tactics, softening to a sweet sincereness. "I appreciate you accompanying me. Seriously. You know you don't have to run with me, although you do inspire me to persistent. Gotta impress you, keep you interested."

"Please, as if there's anything you could do to cause me to become uninterested." You poked a finger at his chest. "And if running means I get to spend an extra hour with you, I'll gladly accept. Besides, there's something in it for me too. Makes it all worth it."

"And what's that?"

You looked around, spotting a park vendor supplying drinks, playfully brushing his question aside. "Want a water?"

The warm glint in his eyes lingered, admirably amused. One that read: you were the most difficult person he'd ever met, but he wouldn't have it any other way. "Sure, sweetheart."

"I'll grab it," you began walking, "You stay here. Catch your breath."

Aaron grabbed your hand the moment you had stepped a foot away, smoothly drawing you back with just an equally suave grin. Once in reach, he placed his lips onto yours, interrupting your growing smile.

Your nose scrunched when the two of you parted, "You're all sweaty."

"That's never been a problem before." His smirk returned, the wet cowlicks draped over his forehead bringing a multitude of images to come to mind.

This is why you ran with him. You'd never deprive yourself the hot visual, one you'd never get tired of. The overexertion, the sweat, the defined athletic wear clinging onto his body, the heavy breathing too.

You playfully rolled your eyes, granting him another kiss before you trailed off. You steadied your breathing again, in attempt to slow your heart rate a second time.

Retrieving the waters couldn't have taken you more than five minutes: waiting in a small line, supplying cash, issuing a thank you. But when you turned back towards Aaron, your feet already moving to their own accord, you stopped short - suddenly. As he wasn't alone.

He was talking to some woman - brunette, in workout clothes of her own. Her backside was facing you, so you couldn't see any specific features; to determine who she was, a familiar face or not.

You tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of jealousy filling your body, drawing the conclusion that she wasn't an old friend rather quickly. It started from the bottom of your stomach, crawling up your spine, spreading widely to your limbs.

Could it be harmless? Sure, that's what you were telling yourself, until the woman in question handed him a small piece of paper. She began to retreat - finally - causing a breath of relief to escape you, until Aaron calls after her.

When she turns, you're able to see her face. She’s cute, all smiles and outwardly confident. She responds to whatever he said, follows it with a laugh, before continuing her jog. 

You bit your lip, returning to Aaron with a bit more urgency, your ponytail gliding swiftly between your shoulder blades.

"Here," You handed Aaron his water, your gaze moving past him and continuing to watch her leave. As if she can feel your stare, she looks back. Your eyes may have been playing tricks on you, but you could've sworn she gave you a cunning smirk.

Your jaw clenched, nothing but that red-hot jealousy overtaking you. It blocks out all of your surroundings - Aaron's going on about something, but you don't hear him. He's muted, fuzzy, far away. You don't realize he's talking to you until he says your name, with a tad more volume.

You startle, blinking, "Sorry, what?"

"I said, do you want to go again? Or we can take a slow, evenly-paced walk back." His lips turned upwards humorously, taking a drink. "More your speed."

He's attempting to resume the ongoing, fun banter to draw your focus elsewhere, knowing you.

"Who was that?"

"Oh, nobody." He shrugged, securing the cap. "She just, er, handed me this." He explained carefully, holding up a small piece of paper.

He did it quickly; again, making it as nonchalant as possible. But even at the heightened speed you're able to see her number scrawled across the surface.

You immediately impede forward-

"Sweetheart," Just as he expected - he grabs your arm, holding you back from any impending confrontation you were set on.

"She gave you her number?" You looked at him, perplexed. The audacity. "Did you see the way she looked at me? She probably saw us kiss and yet-"

"I know, I know." He comforted, his voice a deep contrast compared to yours, hardening the more you spoke. He can practically feel you vibrating in fury. "Hey, it's okay. I'm discarding it, of course." He crumbled it in his fist, "Have zero need for it."

"But that doesn't excuse what she just did." You try to look past him again, but he uses his body to shield your view. "And I don't like it. Not at all."

"You're right, it doesn't, but it's okay." Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead, muttering his next sentence into your skin. "I'm yours. Nothing changes that."

"Damn right you are," you huffed, crossing your arms. Despite the distance (she's almost long gone by now), you're at the ready to grab Aaron, to kiss him fiercely if she ever so lightly takes a peek back.

"Forget about it, and I don't mean that in a dismissive way. Look at me when I say this," He tossed the paper in the nearby trash, grabbing ahold of your shoulders instead. "I'm uninterested. Unfazed. Utterly in love with you and greatly anticipating showing you how much once we're in the privacy of home. Preferably in the shower, and then again in bed afterwards."

He manages to pry a smile out of you, a blush forming at your cheeks, although it doesn't dissolve your pout just yet. "But..."

"But what?" He asked gently as he releases his hold, swiping his thumb across your cheek soothingly.

"What if she can run faster than me." You mumbled pitifully. You said so half jokingly, half seriously.

Aaron laughed warmly, spanning an arm over your shoulders and pulling you directly to his chest. "I highly doubt that."

"You promise?"

"With every ounce of me."

[slashmagpie]

It’s quiet when the wild cards stop.

Pearl comes to a stop for the first time in hours, her body shaking, heart still pounding. She can feel the heavy thrum of blood in her veins. She stares out over spawn island and the server beyond, her breath misting in the cool evening air.

It hits her then, all at once. Impulse is gone. Her friend, her ally, the man she’d wanted to win. She’d given him everything, her resources, her totem, her time, her devotion…

And he’s gone.

The next breath in hurts, catching against something tight and sharp in her chest. It comes out shaking. She swallows hard against the lump in her throat.

Gem’s gone, too. If she’d lived just another thirty seconds she’d have survived the explosion of wild cards enough to see this quiet aftermath. Pearl could have been her friend, then, maybe, best friends again on red just like Gem had promised. If she hadn’t changed her mind again. Because Gem’s been confusing, all hot-and-cold, and Pearl’s been confused, so confused, and now she’ll never have clarity.

…They’ll never have that 1v1 either. 

The breath in burns. Her eyes burn too. The breath out catches at her vocal cords, not quite a whine, not quite a sob.

Impulse gone. Gem gone. BigB’s gone, has been gone for a while, taken by his snail, their friendly, (un)reliable, formerly nosy neighbour. Pearl remembers losing him before, gone too soon, time run out, and she’d wanted him to win, she’d wanted—

Scott’s dead. And isn’t that—isn’t that just—they’d made it to the end as a team. Just like Scott wanted. Because everybody had said they couldn’t, that they’d turn on each other like before, and he’d wanted to prove them wrong. And she still doesn’t know, really, how she feels about him. If this season has healed those wounds. If there's a part of her that will always feel bitter and sick and angry when she thinks about him. Even now, it’s still not gone. But they’d laughed, and they’d stuck by each other, and that had to mean something. It had meant something, however small.

She wraps her arms around herself, curls in around the burning ore in her chest. Her cheeks are wet. The in breath is just as ragged and broken as the out breath.

God, she feels pathetic. Completely and utterly pathetic. Alone and aching and everyone she’s fought with, fought for, is gone. Just like last time. Just like the time before. It hurts, and not in a good way, and she longs for the familiar and soothing sting of powdered snow. 

(A pain that is completely inaccessible to her in this world.) 

“Pearl!” 

She turns. Cleo’s standing on the bank, and she looks just as exhausted as Pearl feels. Pearl hurriedly straightens up, wipes at her eyes, sucks in a shaking, aching breath.

“Cleo!” 

Cleo doesn’t say anything as Pearl crosses the water towards her. She regards Pearl with sad eyes, soft eyes, and god, it doesn’t help with how pathetic Pearl feels. She draws in another painful breath, sharp in her throat, and Cleo opens her arms.

Pearl takes the invitation gladly, practically throwing herself at Cleo. Cleo is large and tall and broad and her arms are strong and warm around Pearl, or as warm as a zombie can get, at least. Pearl buries her face into the sweat-and-blood-soaked fabric of Cleo’s leotard and hiccups a sob around the glass shards of grief in her chest.

“Cleo, I’m so lost, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Cleo hums, fingers running through Pearl’s tangled hair, and her voice catches in her throat, awkward and unsure before hardening. “I—If nothing else, we kill Joel.”

Killing Joel won’t make anything better. It’s barely a goal, nothing like help Impulse win, nothing ever so noble. (Nothing like get Scott back, nothing like protect BigB, nothing like get Bdubs—Joel—Scar to the end, it’s not—)

But it’s something. Something to latch onto, when it feels like the stillness of the world is somehow even more unstable than the chaos that had preceded it.

She swallows, pushes herself back from Cleo’s chest, looks up into Cleo’s dim green eyes. They’re rimmed with red and cushioned by deep purple bags, steely and uncertain and the last thing Pearl has to rely on.

“I agree with that. I like that, I like that thought. Okay. Y’know what, that’s fine.”

“That’s—that’s the law.”

“Alright. Fine. Let’s do that.”

And the words come out harsh, bitter, stinging her tongue like lemon juice and bile. Really, there’s nothing else to fight for, nothing else to win, not for Pearl. She’s not dead, but she’s already out of the game, all of her pieces stolen. There’s just Cleo, her old friend, her old enemy, her last remaining teammate. There’s just Cleo, and Pearl, and a half-dozen losses shattered between them.

So Pearl will sideline her grief, and take those shards, and she will do her best to kill with them. Just like everyone’s been goading her to do all season. Red in her clothes, in her eyes, in her blood, between her teeth. A stray dog that’s been ordered to attack. She doesn’t fight it anymore. There’s no point in pretending to be a person now.

After all, there’s nothing left to lose, and nothing left to win.

[obsessedwhyyes]

The Learned Observer

Fic Request: Voyeurism

Summary: On a sleepless night, Gale notices the distinct sound of hushed voices outside his tent. It couldn't be you and Astarion… could it? When he decides to take a peek - to satisfy his scholarly curiosity, of course - he gets more than he bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2623 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader, implied Astarion x Gale x Fem!Reader Content: Gale's POV (first person), voyeurism, dry humping, handjob, public sex, male masturbation, a little bit of jealousy.

A/N: Gale, in my humble opinion, would not use the word, “cock.” I cannot express how hard it was to not use the word, "cock" in a smut fic. I frigging love that word. Anyways, writing entirely in Gale’s voice was honestly the most fun mini challenge I’ve set myself so far, and I would gladly do first person BG3 companion POVs again. Thank you, dear anon, for the request!

Another sleepless night.

The orb pulses beneath my skin, each throb a reminder of my predicament.

I implore my mind to wander to the events of our journey, to the challenges that lie ahead, in pursuit of a worthwhile distraction. But the orb’s hunger grows stronger, like a raging maelstrom, each tribute to its insistent pull a mere ripple against the tide of its endless consumption. Perhaps I should consult the others about–

… Voices drift from outside my tent before I can finish my thoughts. Curious.

Hushed laughter and whispered words. Astarion's distinctive timbre and… you.

The sound is soft, subtle - a quiet exchange. Yet, here I am, catching fragments of something private, something perhaps not intended for outside ears.

I shift, the faintest spark of curiosity pulling me from my solitude. It's innocent, surely - a late-night conversation, perhaps a shared joke. And yet, as the moments pass, I can't ignore the intimacy in your laughter, the way Astarion's voice drops to that silken murmur he reserves for his attempts at enticement.

Just a glance, I tell myself. Merely to understand what could be so amusing at this hour.

Slowly, carefully, I draw back a sliver of canvas, just enough to peek through.

My breath catches as my eyes adjust to the firelight outside. There, on the other side of the campfire, resting against a fallen log, you sit beside him, close - very close - your faces inches apart.

Your legs are entwined, and there’s an intensity in the way you look at each other. I’m taken aback by the hunger in the kiss that follows - one neither timid nor restrained. Your hands begin to explore each other with what I can only call fervour - the kind of urgency I hadn't known either of you possessed, let alone with each other. 

The way you move together speaks of raw desire rather than tender affection - this is clearly a new physical relationship.

When did this start? How did I miss the signs? Though perhaps I was too caught up in my own concerns to notice the lingering glances, the way you always seemed to find reasons to be near each other…

I tell myself it’s simple curiosity that keeps me here, observing. A certain academic interest, if you will. After all, Astarion has always been something of a hedonist - a man who indulges in his desires with a recklessness I sometimes envy, though rarely approve. But to see him like this - in action, as it were - offers a unique perspective on his character.

You murmur something I cannot make out, a teasing lilt in your voice, and Astarion laughs in that rakish, honeyed tone of his, as though thrilled to have you so wholly entranced. His hands grip your waist, and with a practised grace, he pulls you into his lap, the hem of your skirt spilling around you both. As his hands settle on your hips, you grind against what I can only assume to be a prominent hardness in his trousers, judging by the satisfied smirk on his face. 

You seem eager, pliant under his touch, responding in ways I confess I hadn’t thought you capable of - no, not like this. Not with him.

My heart hammers in my chest, a tension spreading through me that’s… increasingly difficult to ignore. And yet, I remind myself, this is mere observation, nothing more. A clinical exercise in understanding the intricacies of interpersonal attractions between a vampire and a mortal; the undercurrent of danger that befalls such an arrangement.

He holds you with a blend of confidence and entitlement that borders on decadent, his mouth at your neck, lips brushing against your skin with a maddening leisure that’s somehow indulgent and teasing all at once. His fangs linger there and, for a moment, my heart stops - surely he wouldn’t… Ah, no. No, he’s not feeding. He merely kisses your neck, fangs scraping lightly against your throat - close enough to tempt and tantalise. I see the goosebumps flare on your skin.

He whispers something low and unintelligible, and you let out a soft giggle, yielding in a way that speaks of trust - trust that’s he’s earned, somehow, despite his nature.

And then your hand drifts between you both, touching him through his trousers.

Gosh. I hadn’t thought you so bold.

Astarion’s body arches into your touch, his gaze darkening as he watches you with a hunger that’s both terrifying and… strangely beautiful. I find myself entranced, my breath shallow as I observe the way your fingers trace over him, the way he leans into you. The noise he makes when your fingers flex, squeezing him gently over the fabric… Gracious. 

There’s a strange, reluctant curiosity building within me. I should look away. I should grant you both the privacy you likely assume you have. And yet, my gaze remains fixed, drawn to the details of your encounter: the way his hands tighten on your waist, the way your breaths synchronise, the way he murmurs softly into your ear…

I am aware - painfully so - of the ache low in my body that has built with each passing moment, each glance, each touch. I am no stranger to restraint - I have spent years tempering my desires, sacrificing comforts in the pursuit of knowledge, of power. Yet, here, now, I feel that restraint begin to falter; to dissolve like ink in water, dispersing until it is all but unrecognisable. It has been so long, after all. So, so long.

When your hands move to the waistband of his trousers, my breath catches. Gods above, surely you won't, not out in the open... but yes. Yes, it seems you will.

When you pull him free, well - I’ve always wondered about vampire physiology, purely academically, of course. But the sight of him prompts rather less scholarly thoughts. He’s impressively endowed - perhaps it is wishful thinking to believe that this is but another gift of his condition. It’s fascinating how vampiric transformation affects every part of the body - he’s almost luminescent in the firelight, every inch of him perfect and unmarred. I notice the veins that trace along his length, faintly visible beneath his skin. He is, even now, a study in confidence, exuding a subtle power that one can only achieve when utterly comfortable in one’s own skin.

Your hand wraps around him, sliding up and down his length at a teasing pace, drawing forth a sound I have never heard our pale companion make - a soft, broken gasp, caught somewhere between a moan and a sigh. It sounds almost reluctant, as though he hadn’t meant for such a sound to slip past his lips. He twitches under your ministrations, and his grip on your hips tightens enough that there will surely be bruises tomorrow.

My fingers rest at my thigh, trembling ever so slightly. A small part of me - a remnant of reason, perhaps - tells me to pull back, to look away, to let this moment pass without surrendering to the need that has taken root within me. But my body, the traitorous thing it is, does not heed such commands. Instead, I find my hand drifting lower.

My fingers trace over the fabric of my trousers, over the aching hardness beneath. A gentle palming, barely enough to ease the tension that coils tighter with each passing moment as I watch the scene unfold.

Your hands elicit quiet murmurs from Astarion that grow deeper and more insistent with each passing moment. For a moment, the two of you share a look - one of conspiratorial mischief, perhaps - and then a soft, shared giggle, the sound mingling with the crackling of the fire. 

You're so utterly engrossed in him; so utterly unselfconscious.

You shift, a question in your eyes, and as he nods, giving his assent, you rise just enough to shift, positioning yourself over him. Your skirts drape around you both, providing a veneer of modesty, though there's no mistaking what follows when you sink yourself down on to him. The way your lips part in a gasp as he enters you, the way his head falls back with a victorious grin - it makes the tightness, the great ache between my legs, almost unbearable.

I find my hand slipping beneath my waistband.

Just a little relief, I tell myself. Just enough to ease this maddening tension.

There is a certain poetry to it, I suppose - this surrender to the pleasures of the flesh. I allow myself to imagine, as my hand finds the throbbing heat of my arousal, what it might feel to be in your place, to have someone look at me with that same confidence, to experience touch imbued with the certainty of one who knows precisely how to elicit pleasure - a knowledge gleaned from centuries, no doubt, of indulgence and conquest.

It’s enough to leave me aching for more than mere observation.

The fervour with which you move against him… it’s hypnotic, each roll of your hips drawing forth increasingly wanton sounds from you both. Astarion's carefully crafted demeanour gives way to something more roguish, a playful daring that glints in his eyes as you rise and fall and rise and fall on his length.

I find my hand instinctively matching your rhythm, every shift and motion, as though I, too, am bound to the undulating tempo that you and Astarion have created.

Gods… what must it be like to be him? To have someone so openly, eagerly drawn to you, meeting every touch with matching fervour? To hold someone close and feel their raw desire, the thrill of each laugh, each gasp, offered without hesitation? I wonder what it must be like to inspire such a response, to be desired so freely, without need for pretence or restraint?

With Mystra, I was ever the pursuer, striving tirelessly to earn even the barest hint of her approval, each moment together feeling like an examination I desperately hoped to pass. But Astarion… well. He needn't chase or convince. Despite his vampiric nature - or perhaps, in part, because of it - he is simply desired, freely given all that I once had to beg for. The inequity of it all would be rather poetic, if it weren't so personally vexing.

“A-ah!”

Your gasp cuts through my ruminations, pulling me back into the scene.

Astarion’s hand has slipped between you, guiding you to that final crescendo with a practised touch. The sight of it is utterly spellbinding: his fingers moving with a precision that speaks to centuries of experience, knowing just where to press, where to linger. The control he exercises over you is enviable, each movement of his hand coaxing you closer to that peak, his attention wholly focused on your reaction, even as your hips rock back and forth on his length with an increasingly frantic, unrestrained urgency.

The way your eyes roll back... Gosh.

The expression on your face, one of pure, unfiltered abandon, is a sight to behold.

Your body trembles as you reach your peak, and a sound - a cry, too loud in the stillness of the night - escapes your lips. Astarion’s palm clamps over your mouth, a futile attempt to muffle you in the throes of your climax. Though he hushes you, his expression suggests that he is not in the least bit concerned. In fact, he seems rather pleased - more than pleased, really. 

There’s a thrill in such a public display for him too, no doubt.

I swallow, the sound almost too loud, my heart pounding against my ribs as though it seeks to betray me. Astarion's head tilts slightly, his gaze flickering to the shadows, and for one heart-stopping moment, I think he has sensed me, that his attention has shifted from you to this invisible interloper, the scholar caught red-handed in his quiet act of voyeurism.

Could he... sense me here, lingering on the fringe of his private moment? Could he smell the stir of my own arousal, feel the faint tremor of my breath as I fight for composure? For several heartbeats, my hand freezes. I dare not even breathe.

But then his attentions return to you, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

He brings his hands to your hips, holding them firmly in place as he drives himself upwards into you, deeper, with mounting desperation. It seems he seeks to chase his own release, content with the pleasure he has wrought you.

You respond eagerly, pressing closer, your own sounds growing louder, heedless of who might hear, and I can see that thrill in his face - the satisfaction of knowing he’s eliciting every reaction from you, drawing out each gasp, each shudder.

My hand glides hastily across my arousal, my own breathing growing ragged as I watch his control begin to slip. Even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his head tips back in pure abandon.

In the final throes, he presses himself against you, buried firmly to the hilt. It’s almost animalistic, all thoughts, all calculated movements, making way for one singular goal: to empty himself into you, filling you with all he has to offer with breaths rugged and low. All composure is stripped, replaced with instinct and pure need.

I find my own movements quickening to match his pace, as though some invisible thread binds us all to this moment. My hand tightens as I lose myself in the same tempo, every sound from you both spurring me closer. The sight of his final shudder, the look of utter satisfaction crossing his face as he reaches that height, is enough to tip me over the edge.

For a heartbeat, the night seems to hold us all in perfect suspension - your quiet gasps, his satisfied murmurs, my own silent echo of shared pleasure - all woven together in this clandestine tableau.

Only then, as the euphoria begins to fade, does a most uncomfortable awareness creep in.

Gods above, what have I... A scholar of worldly acclaim, reduced to voyeur, caught up in base desires like some common... No. Best not to dwell on such things. Though I suspect sleep will prove rather elusive tonight, haunted by questions of propriety and... other matters.

With a groan, I roll onto my back, the orb’s steady throb now a minor annoyance compared to the tangled thoughts that flood my mind. Perhaps I can chalk this entire… incident up to fatigue, a wandering mind, even a fevered dream. Yes, that must be it. The product of a restless night and, possibly, a touch of indigestion. After all, who could believe that I, Gale of Waterdeep, would be brought so low as to... well, that.

As morning light spills across camp, I attempt a façade of normalcy, willing my cheeks to cool and my mind to settle. Just as I convince myself the night’s events were nothing more than a peculiar dream, Astarion sidles up, his expression one of leisurely amusement.

"Restless night, Gale?” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. His gaze is as sharp as his tone, a knowing glint in his eyes that makes my stomach twist in the most uncomfortable way. "I thought I heard a... stirring from your tent."

The corner of his mouth quirks up in that infuriatingly smug way of his, and I nearly choke on my response. 

He knew. 

Astarion knew. 

I force a cough, pretending to inspect the morning sky.

"A dream," I reply a bit too quickly. "Perhaps the cheese at dinner was... overly ripe."

But Astarion merely chuckles, a wicked sound, before strolling away with a satisfied air. And as I watch him saunter off, I’m left to question just how much of the night was a dream - and how much, mortifyingly, was very, very real.

Masterlist can be found here!

No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat @davenswitcher @silverfangmarks @sparrowbard @chonkercatto @stokzr @trafalgarussy @asterordinary

[winterarmyy]

Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part III

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 5.2k++ (sorry y'all)

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, fluffy stuff, tiny sprinkle of angst, soldat is heartbreakingly adorable until the very end, bucky not being very communicative, self-loathing, confusion, conflicted feelings between guilt and need, two idiots in love who are lost in a miscommunication, excessive use of the word 'fuck', and... what else? I'm not sure either lol.

P/S: This has been truly a journey. Thank you so much for the support y'all have been giving me. I really do appreciate all the comments and dms about my work regardless which one of them. Just wanna remind you that I won't be here without you; that's the degree of importance that you possess. Anyway, enjoy your reading.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

It's only been eight in the morning and the soldat had Y/N trapped between his arms as she focused on sifting the flour for the pancake batter. There were barely any space between them; not when he made sure that her soft plushy butt rests right against his crotch, while his fingers subtly move along her hips.

Those gentle trailings didn't last too long for comfort as he slipped his left hand under her sweatshirt. The soldat let his instinct took control as the metal of his touch draws invisible circles all across her bare stomach, while his lips peppered endless amount of butterfly kisses on the marks from last night; each one was now hidden under layers of color correcter and concealer.

"Wow." A raw sound of astonisment naturally slipped from Sam's lips as he found himself frozen in his spot at the corridor leading to the entrance of the kitchen.

Look at them. Acting like newlyweds on their honeymoon.

For a moment he forgot that the huge cuddly hunk in front of him was the winter soldier and not his fellow comrade.

But then again, it might as well made sense that it was not the Bucky he knew, because that man would've been a puddle of mess if he got the chance to touch Y/N like this.

Sam still remember that night when they had a Harry Potter movie marathon and Y/N ended up falling asleep on Bucky's shoulder. Even in the room that was scarce from light, Sam could clearly see the redness on Bucky's cheeks and ears.

It was an understatement to say that Sam had the best time of his life teasing the shit out of Bucky that night, knowing he can't do anything about it without waking Y/N from her comfy slumber.

"Soldat, please. I need to move around, you know?" Y/N's amused giggle pulled the soldat from his dreamy trance.

He shakes his head in the crook of her neck, snuggling deeper as he took a deep breath of her sweet scent,  "No, you don't. You just need to stay here." The soldat huffed as he pouted and tighten his hold on her.

Y/N chuckled at his child-like antics, "You do know that you're not gonna get any breakfast any time soon if you keep doing this, right?"

Sometimes, she couldn't help but wondered if this is how it would feel like to have Bucky doting on her.

"Родная (darling), I'll gladly have you for breakfast. I'm sure I'd have a feast on that sweet little pussy of yours." He whispered seductively into her ears, as he sensed Sam's presence approaching the kitchen. 

Y/N briefly fluttered her eyes shut as he purred in her ears, before slightly peel herself off from him, "Soldat." Her voice was stern and her eyes narrowed into a frown.

The soldat gaze down at her with a hazy grin on his lips, "Родная (darling)."

Unknowingly, the one-sided glaring battle began when Y/N refused to break their intense eye contact; each opponent uses a very contrasting approach, where one has a deep frown and a pair of blazing eyes while the other has the softest, droopy stare and literal hearts in his steel blues.

"Move." Y/N instructed as if it was a warning.

The brunnette let out a defeated laugh as he loosen his hold on her, "Okay, okay. Anything for you, sweet one."

"Thank you." She sighed. "Finally" she thought. She was worried that they gonna have breakfast for lunch if he refuses to let her go.

On the other hand, the soldat was unable to sit still on his own, so he continue to follow her around, like a hungry cat rubbing their forehead up their human's leg, mewling for attention.

"Morning, y/n and... her shadow." Sam finally make himself known as he greeted while naturally went to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Sam." she greeted back while the soldat swiftly put himself in between them like a barrier. He shot a menancing glare at Sam as the man was standing 'too close to Y/N' for the soldat's comfort.

Obviously offended, "Dude, calm down. I was just greeting her good morning." His voice raised as he defended himself for his rights, "Tell him y/n" he continued to tattle tail.

In which Y/N responded by patting the back of the soldat's shoulder as a reassurance before asking him to move away.

Let's just say that he begrudgingly agreed to just because it was Y/N's request.

"Unbeliveable." Sam rolled his eyes, "This your friend?" He asked as Steve entered the scene, greeting everyone a good morning before he quirked, "What?"

"Look at him." Sam accusingly pointed as the soldat, "He's hogging y/n." He continued to explain while purposely reach his hand to touch her. The soldat wordlessly pulled her away before he could reach any further, "See?" Sam pointed again.

Steve didn't defend anyone this time as he only laughed it off before finding his seat. His eyes sparkled with delight to the amount of pancake made by Y/N and the multiple choice of topping and sides; from the sickening sweet stuff to the oddly savoury ones.

He glanced over at his best friend, who was unsubtly trying to hog Y/N away from Sam and his baby blues soften as he thought maybe Shuri was right. Maybe Bucky was always present somewhere in this soldat's persona.

It was such a typical Bucky behaviour to be possessive as the soldat was being. Steve noticed that Bucky would always get a bit agitated when someone touch his girl, even if he doesn't actively show it as much. In the 40's he might've been able to hide it behind his charming smile and witty jokes, but nowdays anyone can see it on his ever-present frown and unintelligible grunts.

That applies for both Bucky and the soldat.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Sam as she pulled the soldat by the hand, "Ignore him, soldat. Now, come have breakfast with me." She sat him on one of the stool by the kitchen isle as she prepared his plate.

Perplexed by the lack response, Sam admitted his defeat for once and joined the isle to have his bite of the morning.

As soon as she settled on her own seat next to him, the soldat took her hand into his, briefly kissing her the back of it. "Thank you, darling."  He whispered before placing their locked hands on his lap as they ate, casually rubbing his thumb on her for comfort.

If you thought Y/N was the only one who was blushing at the domestic show of affection, well you'd think again when you see the shade of red on the tip of his ears or the way Sam purposely looked away.

The morning went by with mostly three of them having a pleasant conversation and the soldat silently distract himself by playing with her hand, apparently enthralled by the size difference and how fragile looking hers was.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team came by the kitchen on their own time since some of them prefer to sleep off the pain from the previous mission.

Half an hour later, she felt as if she was caught in a dejavu when she found herself in the same position as before. She laughed softly as she washed dishes, while the soldat stuck himself to her like a oversize koala to a tiny tree.

"I smell pancakes." Tony spoke as he made a bee line towards the kitchen, looking like he just survived a bio hazard in the lab.

"I made extra. Help yourself." Y/N announced, not even trying to look back at them, especially when the soldat had her trapped in his tight embrace.

Tony peeked to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Y/N, "Did you see her? I didn't even know she was here until she spoke." He asked, though he sounded more like he was teasing her.

Before Tony could reach out for his plate, Shuri stormed to the kitchen, catching everyone's attention, "Pancakes can wait, Tony." She stopped him which only cause him to whine dramatically.

It felt as if Y/N's heart completely dropped out of her body when Shuri nodded knowingly, "It's time."

There was a quick briefing of the process with everyone involved while they prep the soldat in the other side of the glassed section of the lab. Y/N tried to focus on watching the simple simulation video that was prepared by Tony.

And she heard every single words of Shuri's but all she could think was if the soldat knew what they were doing. If he felt like he was being thrown, being disposed of like some kind of object.

By the time they the explanation ended, Y/N didn't think twice as she marched towards the soldat. The team didn't questioned her motive as they can see the determination in her eyes. 

She stopped on her tracks, right at the entrance when a thought ran across her mind.

Of course, she wanted Bucky back but why does this feel so wrong?

"How are you feeling, soldat?" She prompted as she walked over to him, passing the lab employee who scurried away leaving the couple to have some privacy.

The soldat brightened in her presence as he reached out to her with grabby hands, triggering a soft giggle from Y/N. She let her hands gravitate towards his, intertwining her fingers in his hold as he replied, "Much better now." He sighed in contentment the moment he felt her skin against his own.

There was a comforting silence in the room, but Y/N's mind was the complete opposite. There was only chaos of questions that felt so sinful and immoral to utter out loud.

The soldat grip tightens with tenderness, as if he could hear the loud havoc in her head. Moments later, he decided to break the silence with an honest confession.

"I know that I'm not welcomed here."  He glanced at the other side of the glass, watching the team pacing around. "I know that you're trying to get rid of me." His ocean blues changed its tides to gaze up at her; the smile on his lips was soft and pure.

"You know, I have been many things in this life..." the soldat looked down where his hands were entangled with hers, "...a killer, a weapon, a monster, you name it." there was a hint of grudge in his voice but mostly it was woven with regret.

"But, worst of all, I have been a thief." It felt as if he has been holding his breath as he avowed.

"I have stolen decades worth of his life, robbed him of his freedom for so many years, every single happiness and hope he could ever experienced had been stripped away right before his eyes," the soldat chuckled ironically before looking up to meet her teary eyes, "...yet I'm still greedy for more days with you."

Y/N found herself unable to speak, afraid that her words would do nothing to coax him; or maybe she just couldn't trust that her voice won't crack in the middle of her sentence especially when she was damn sure that her heart was already cracking for him.

The soldat's eyes softens when he reached his hand to her face, "I never knew that I was capable to feel these futile emotions such as joy and love, until I felt it when he looks at you." Y/N didn't even notice she was crying until he wiped them away with the gentle caresses of his thumb.

"Everything I felt towards you were his to begin with." He confessed as he felt the guilt of stealing yet another precious thing from him again, "That's why, I don't deserve this." The said as he recalled every moment he got to spend with her, "I don't deserve you."

The soldat knows that very well, but that didn't stop the natural curiosity that resides from within him, "And I can't help but to wonder..." he hesitated as he tried to construct the most raw and truthful question to sum up whatever this emotion he was currently feeling.

"Will you remember me?" His voice was small and quiet, almost afraid of the answer that might come his way.

More tears were spilling out as she unhesitantly replied, "How could I not?" Her hands raised to his face, cupping his scruffy cheeks in her palms.

The soldat's eyes sightly wobbled when he asked again, "Will you miss me?" At that time, he didn't know that the feeling he felt was called 'heartache', yet he was handling it like he had been experiencing it all his life.

Y/N leaned as she pressed the most tender kiss on his forehead, "More than you know." Her answer made the soldat smile as he purred in her hold.

He peeled one away from his face and pressed a kiss of his own on the delicate palm of her hand. The same ones that had showed him nothing but so much love and kindness.

When Shuri came into the scene, they know it was time to say goodbye. But, both refused to say anything remotely close to it. So, they wordlessly walked out towards the cylinder shaped glass pod, located right in the middle of the lab.

Until the very end, Y/N stood by his side as he lay on the tight space of the pod. And just as the door was about the close, the soldat smiled lovingly at his precious person, as he called for her nickname one last time.

"So long, Родная (darling)."

Three weeks later. At Avenger's private gym.

Steve re-adjusted his stance as he took cautious step backwards, "Why are you avoiding her?" He asked straightforwardly.

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he lunged forward for a strike, "What are you talking about?" He missed when Steve easily swerved away and countered back, "Don't play dumb, Buck. I'm not in a mood for that."

The brunette blocked his punch with his left forearm but Steve uses that as an opportunity to grab him and pushed him on the floor. Bucky groaned as he landed flat on his chest, left hand on his back.

"Well, I'm not in a mood to talk about it either." He growled as he swing his leg backwards, toppling Steve on his back and pushed his metal arm against his neck, choking him out of his breath, "So, drop it." He warned.

Steve tapped the floor as a sign of defeat and Bucky released his hold while retreat his arm away. Both of them was out of breath but for entirely different reason; Steve was literally choked, so that's fair, but Bucky was breathing heavily as soon as Y/N stepped into the gym.

He stood there with an intense frown on his face, glaring at the woman of his dreams. Literal dreams, or memories of the soldat that was left behind for Bucky after what happened with the winter soldier situation.

Thankfully the method worked, Shuri and Tony managed to bring Bucky back but just like before, he don't have any clear recollection what happened.

While Y/N made the team swore to never speak to Bucky about what he did when he relapsed, while Bucky himself also hides the fact that, much like his previous experience where the memories comes in a form of unsightly nightmares, his memories of those few days were also coming back in a form of dreams.

Though they were never linear. There was no way of knowing the actual flow of his memories.

It came more like snippets of certain moments, sometimes repetitive, sometimes glitchy but they were mostly such good dreams, beautiful even, however they didn't last very long.

At least, not according to Bucky.

Y/N stopped on her tracks as she saw Bucky, who blatantly throwing daggers at her through his eyes. She didn't know why but she didn't want to think of the worst, so she went towards him in hopes of proving her own mind that the negative instincts that she had was wrong.

But the moment she got close, "Hi Buck--" Bucky walked passed her as if she wasn't there in the first place. And she had to admit that, that shit was painful to go through.

And he had been acting like this for two weeks now. Avoiding her like a fucking plague. And she doesn't know why.

He was acting normal during the first week of his awakening, or maybe a little bit more reserved that he usually would be.

She doesn't know how else to explain it but he seemed to act really shy whenever Y/N accidently touched him.

Did someone told him about what happened? Is that why he's mad? She doesn't get it, and she wants to know why.

So before Bucky managed to walk further pass her, Y/N turned on her heels and tugged him by his right arm to stop him. Little did she knew, that might just be the one thing she shouldn't do.

It was like a pre-programmed reaction, when Bucky's body move on his own, as he harshly ripped himself from her grasps, almost dropping her to the ground.

Steve was second away from reaching out to catch her but luckily she found her balance back on her own.

Bucky leered down at her as he spoke, "Don't touch me." His voice came out much more venomous than he intended, making Y/N flinched to his command.

But if that what he needs to do to chase her away from him then so be it, "Just stay the fuck away from me." Bucky spat a cold warning before marching his way out.

Not only leaving Y/N in utter confusion, but with her heart torn to bled dry.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.

"Don't." she whispered quietly.

"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm. 

"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, ripping him out of the distorted memories only to leave him gasping in the darkness. He woke up swimming in his bed, drowning in the flood of sheets with his heart pounding as if it was desperate to tear out of his chest.

He looked around suspiciously as if he didn't recognized his own room, until strain of his crotch distracted him. His eyes pried downwards to see his cock struggling to fit in his pants and the images of his lucid dream flashes again.

Bucky shuts his eyes tightly, hoping the torture would stop reminding him of his sins, "You sick fuck." A deep frown formed as he muttered curses to himself.

After hours and hours of free falling tears in her room, letting herself drown in a sorrow that she never knew she would ever experience, she let herself wonder back to those lovely moments of her with the soldat.

She found it ironic that somehow the memories of his touch was also the cure to the wounds left by cruelty of his words.

It's hours passed midnight and her tears finally stopped, at least until her body was able physically form more tears in her glands, she took the time as a chance for her to rest.

Y/N laid on her back, letting the remaining tears to fall into her ears.

Worst part of all of this was not knowing why, and being left in the dark, yet he managed to effortlessly left her heart broken into shatters.

"Don't touch me."

"Just stay the fuck away from me."

Bucky's words had been circling her mind like a raging tornado. It felt like the spitefulness of his voice was mocking the flaws of her fragmented heart, toying with what's left behind after the storm.

Y/N didn't even realized when did she started to make her way towards the kitchen, but it was as if her body knew its own limit when her feet walked her out of the confinement of her room and her mind remind her to hydrate herself.

As she entered the kitchen area, she wasn't expecting to see Bucky standing in the middle of it, leaning forward towards the counter tops.

Even with the little source of light from the corridor, Y/N could see the tiredness in his face as he stare blankly into nothing. But, his expression soon changed when he saw her.

She didn't know what she had done to make him so agitated whenever he laid his eyes on her.

The silence between them was so loud that Y/N couldn't help but to approach him.

"I..." She truly didn't know what to say but it felt like it was her fault. She did take advantage of him when the soldat took over; endless use of his body, hands, lips and not to mention what happened that night. "I'm sorry."

Bucky was truly appalled to her words, even though he didn't show it on his expression. Why does she had to apologize to him when he was clearly the problem, "Why are you apologizing?" his anger naturally slipped through as he spoke.

But Y/N didn't know that he was frustrated at himself, and not at her, so the tone that he used stung her as much as it did prior, "I don't know." She simply said.

Lies.

She knew exactly why apologized but she wasn't sure if Bucky knew what happened when he blacked-out. "I just... I don't want to stay away from you. I don't like it."

She can't; not when her yearning for him had grew stronger than ever before.

"Well, you better get used to it because it won't change any time soon." Bucky spat harshly.

Y/N felt her own rage started to bubble from within.

Why is he being so hot-headed and stubborn like a sulking child? Can't he just act like a fucking adult and talk it out?

Her brows crunched into a frown as she held back her tone, "Why?"

Bucky let out a frustrated as he tried to walk away, shooting a demanding glare as he was passing her, "Just do as you're told, y/n"

"Oh no, you're not gonna run away from this."

She grabbed him by his arms and pulled him back into the conversation. "That's not fair, Bucky."

"Not fair?" His eyes narrowed, as he looked down at the smaller.

She puffed out an angry breath as she glared up, "No, it is not fair! It's not entirely your choice to make." She can feel the flames started to spread, "Especially when you refused to tell me why." She yelled accusingly as she shoved her finger to his chest.

Blood roaring in Bucky's ears as his heart pounded hard, pouring the concealed frustration out like a broken dam as he explodes, "He almost raped you, y/n!!"

There was a few milliseconds of non-movements as both them let those few words sink into their processing brain, "I... almost raped you." His voice shook in both anguish and anger, leaving Y/N frozen in a speechless shock.

"Or maybe I already did and I don't even fucking remember." His hands roughly tugged his long hair back as if he tried to go through the pieces of shattered memories in his wrecked mind.

"And if that is not a fucking sign for you stay away from me, I don't know what else I should do to make you see that." Bucky was breathing heavily that his breaths echoed through the silenced space.

Y/N's mind was running wild as everything slowly clicked. Did he thought that he... No. She blinked several times before she could form actual words, "Bucky, what are you saying? It's okay, it's okay. Just please calm down first and--" she tried to reach for him but that only made Bucky retorted, physically and mentally.

"It's okay? No, it's fucking not. Are you even listening to yourself? Can't you see? I'm dangerous y/n." He sounded as desperate as he was for air. "Especially to you. And if my messed up past was not enough to prove it, then what happened between us when I relapsed certainly did."

His heart rate increase rapidly, and his lungs seemed to work double time. Yet, he refused to let her see how badly he needed comfort.

"Bucky, please breathe. And just.. listen to me--" Y/N was hopeless trying to pull him out of the chaos of his mind but he just wouldn't listen.

Bucky's voice started to waver as the dark revelation continued to cloud him, "He assault you, y/n. I fucking assault you. And I can't let that happened again. So, just please, stay awa--"

"It was my choice!" Y/N snapped as she grabbed Bucky by his shoulder, forcing him to focus on her. "Bucky, I let him touch me. I could stop him if I want to, but I didn't."

Bucky didn't understand, "W-why?"

"Because I know he wouldn't hurt me. You wouldn't hurt me." Y/N tried to lay it out for him slowly but then she realized that maybe he didn't need that right now.

"Fuck, Bucky! I'm not a saint." She cursed after a few short moments of hesitation, "I have a lot of feelings I need to deal with like every other human being. Lust, love, you name it. And he..."

In a brief moment, she thought of the soldat, "He gave me the opportunity to feel the love that I always wanted from you. He showed me what we could've been." There was a sense of longing in her eyes, "It started small, soft touches and loving kisses." She smiled to the memories of it.

"And the moment that I thought that it could've been you who's kissing me, touching me. I knew it was over." She didn't know how many times she almost slipped out his name whenever she calls for the soldat; the name 'Bucky' was always at the tip of her tongue but never out.

"One thing led to another and we... I didn't mean to let it stray too far." She confessed, "Bucky, I admit it was wrong for me to take advatange of you, of the soldat, and I know there's no excuse to my behaviour than my own inability to control my feelings for you."

If the soldat thought that he was being greedy, then that makes the two of them.

"I understand if you want me to stay away from you, but just let me say this out loud." Her hands slid down to find his, thankfully he didn't repulsed this time, "Bucky... I love you." She finally spilled the truth as her soften gaze trained on his eyes, "I have loved you for a long time."

Afraid that this could be the end, she refused to look away. She didn't care if Bucky would plunge daggers to her through his words, she want him to know that her feelings for him was unconditional.

And Bucky really tried his best to let all her words sink in, even though most of them were somehow redacted and lost in his head.

But, thankfully the most important ones was so loud and clear for him to draw a simple conclusion that would ease his relentless worries, "You...I.. I didn't force it on you?"

Y/N didn't know why she wasn't expecting him to believe her but she was glad that he did, "No" she replied simply.

Bucky's voice strangled while his hand gripping tighter in her hold, "I didn't hurt you?" His teary eyes pleaded for the truth.

"Not a even close." She smiled kindly.

Bucky felt as the unbearable burden on his shoulders was lifted off completely just by those few simple words that Y/N just uttered. The tears he was desperately holding back broke freely as they stream down his face, his shoulders trembled with the force of his emotions running through his veins.

He whispered, "You don't hate me for it?" He pulled her hands closer to his face, fluttering his eyes shut as he kissed the knuckles of her fingers.

"Never." Y/N reassured, as she cupped his face; stroking her thumbs on his scruffy cheeks, wiping the warm, salty tears away.

Bucky sighed to her touch, it seemed that his body remembered her more than his mind did, "And you love me?" He blinked as he placed his hand on top of her.

Y/N nodded with a loving curve on her lips, "Always have."

Bucky didn't know how she does it but she really did managed to mend and melt his heart all at the same time. It was magic. Or, maybe it was sorcery. But even if she ended up leaving a curse behind, Bucky would still be glad that he let her bewitched him.

Bucky stared down at her, admiring her the kindness in her eyes despite the swolleness of them. He felt bad for breaking her heart, making her cry. It tore his heart just thinking about it.

His tongue darted out for a brief second as his metal hand fell, wrapping around her body.

Y/N maintained to lock her eyes on his as her hand slid down, and pressed on his chest. Despite being comfortable with his touches, and with the amount of kisses the soldat had generously gave her, she shouldn't be nervous anymore but she was.

After all, the soldat never kisses her on the lips and Bucky had his eyes on hers since the beginning.

She wanted his too.

Seeing the anticipation in her eyes, Bucky leaned in to press a kiss on her lips, his flesh hand came up to tilt her chin up, then gently cupped her face as he pulled her closer.

Her lips was so soft against his, that Bucky was sure that he will crave to this every single day.

He briefly pulled away from the kiss to whisper a soft, "I love you too, y/n." Before coming down for another chaste, "More than you could ever fucking imagine." He almost growled as he dipped for more.

Their innocent kiss soon turned into something deeper. They kissed passionately, lost in the bubble of time and space, ignoring the silenced ambiance as they were fixated on the sound of their beating hearts.

And when they pulled away for air, Y/N giggled as a silly thought went through her mind, "Well, I kinda see the glimpse of it in those few days with the soldat, so I think I got the gist of it."

That caused Bucky to let out a genuinely hearty laugh before humming playfully, "Hmm, do you now?" He went in for another kiss, knowing full well that he was already addicted to the taste of her lips.

He just can't get enough of it.

Y/N answered briefly in between his kisses, "Yes."

Bucky smirked as he smoothly guided her backwards, until the back of her waist met with the cold tile of the kitchen isle, "Three times, was it?" his eyes glint with mischieve when he leaned again to steal another kiss.

"What is?" Y/N titled her head to the side, unknowingly giving access for Bucky to lead his kisses from her soft cheek down to her exposed neck.

His lips trailed along the crook of it as he whispered, "Was it three times that he made you cum?" If his goal was to seduce her; well it was safe to say that he did it rather flawlessly.

Y/N thanked god that the kitchen was dim-litted, because the redness on her cheek was rather embarrassing, "I-I'm not sure."

She lied. But, Bucky didn't need to know that.

Bucky chuckled lowly as he murmured, "It's okay, babydoll. We have all the time in the world to beat that record." his naughty hands had already made their way toward her ass before she even have the time to register what he suggested.

Lust decorated the blues in his eyes as he whispered, "Starting now."

End.

<< Part II || Extra >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Yeay, we have reached the end but I might have more of the couple in the future. Though I don't know when will it happen but I have hopes for it. Meanwhile, why don't you tell me what you think of the series and checkout my other work!

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓’𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐘

Arthur Morgan x f!reader, word count: 10k +, 18+

This was an older fanfic I wrote in my notes a little while ago that I decided to - try - to revive and post while I work on other fics. (I swear I'm gonna write about other characters other than Arthur lmao--)

Summary: ( Based on the stranger mission: ''an artist's way,, in CH4 ) You run into Arthur while on an errand in Saint Denis while he invites you to come with him to Charles Châtenay's gallery. Afterwards you two go out for a drink, then eventually to a local hotel where you find out Arthur had been drawing you in Charles' "style"

Warnings: smut with plot HEAVILY based off the game's mission - Reader briefly mentioned to be a virgin, fingering, unprotected PIV sex, riding, creampie, oral sex M!receiving + F!receiving. Younger woman reader, Arthur's a big boy, canon that he grabs the headboard sorry not sorry.

More and more you’ve found yourself becoming the gang’s “errand boy” which was often Arthur’s job, though he’s been gone more often now, either on bounty’s or doing the dirty work in the gang. So Dutch had you do the clean work. You’d say you didn’t mind it, the running around at least, after all it was one of your only excuses to get away from camp. You’d jump when Pearson needed more herbs or vegetables from the store or if Dutch needed some cigars. You usually went to Saint Denis most of the time, it was the closest to camp after all -and something about running these errands in the city made you feel right at home. The gang was a downgrade from growing up in the city of course, still not completely used to it: the running, it was as if every time you were comfortable everyone had to pack up and move to a whole new location. Hell, sometimes it means crossing states.

You had just walked back to your horse after buying some goods from the general store across the street, packing your purchases into the saddle bags of your hitched horse -some canned fruits and vegetables, cigarettes as per request from most of the people in camp, and some ammo Dutch asked for, just to stock up I suppose. As you worked on buttoning the flap to the saddle bag back down, making sure none of your goods would be seen by people walking by, after all you spent your hard earned -ahem, stolen money- on those things, you could’ve sworn you heard a man ask for directions, a man with a voice as familiar to you as you own.

You looked over your shoulder to see the man, the sandy brown locks under the gambling hat told you enough, why was Arthur in the city? You didn’t think Dutch had any chores for him today, thus why he asked you to go to the store. He held a small card in his hand, looking from the back of it before his gaze fell back on the woman passing, the one he had asked for directions. Once he got them he’d nod to the woman, eyes falling back onto the card as she walked off. 

You’d pat your horse on the neck before walking onto the sidewalk where Arthur stood, he didn’t notice you til’ you tapped on his shoulder. “Arthur?” You were sure he nearly jumped out of his skin. If your voice wasn’t so familiar he probably would’ve elbowed you out of pure defense. 

“Christ–! you tryin’ to kill me sneakin’ up on me like that?” He’d pause for a moment as if his brain finally processed that it was you. “The hell are you doing here anyway?”

“Good news, you’ve been replaced.” 

“Wha–” His brows would furrow together as his mind cranked to figure out your meaning, that was until you pulled your little shopping list out from the satchel swung over your shoulder. “Oh, that.” 

Of course he couldn’t care less about being ‘replaced’ in that department. It was usually a pain in his ass –And honestly you were a pain in his ass too. It’s not that he didn’t like you, you were just ultimately too spunky for his nature. He’d gladly admit you were a good shot, a good killer. So with that you made a good member for this gang. Personality wise he couldn’t help but wince at your jokes while others would laugh, the tiniest amount of attitude that laced each of your sentences. He wasn’t one to like immaturity, especially from someone who was an adult. Though, you were barely even that.

“Have fun runnin’ around with that list of yours then. Seems you’re really movin’ on up.” He’d scorn.

He’d look down at the card in his hands, then back up to look around his surroundings.

“Do you know where this is?”

He handed you the card, the finished paper now warm from him holding it for so long now against your fingertips. It was an address to one of the buildings on this street, you were surprised he hadn’t realized by now.

“That woman didn’t tell you? It’s right on this street.” 

“No.” He’d roll his eyes. “She looked at me like I lost my mind.” 

You’d snicker at that, now walking down the sidewalk with him, both of your boots clicking against the stone sidewalk. Then you stopped in front of the brick building. ”Here, I think.” You’d give that card one last look, noticing the name on the back of the card, you’d squint to see if you were reading it right -Charles Châtenay? you could’ve sworn I heard that name–

My eyes flicked up to the poster on the side of the brick, looks like it was what I thought after all. I usually pick up the paper when I go this route. The route of aimlessly following Dutch’s list as I walk or ride around the city, gives me something to read when I get back to Shady Belle. Seems the artist had an open gallery today. you couldn’t help but snort, the thought of you, Arthur Morgan going to an art gallery full of practically- well, pornography, now that just might be the funniest damn thing you’ve heard all week. -Your immaturity was truly striking.

“Mr. Morgan, Mr. Morgan.” You’d snark. Of course when Arthur wasn’t acting like the man he was -the same man with five-thousand dollars on his head alone, the same who’s murdered more than a person could fathom he was just your regular ol’ suck up.

“Don’t start with that now, I’m already annoyed I gotta go to this thing.” He tapped his boot onto the sidewalk, taking that card back from you and putting it back into his satchel. “Well, ‘less you wanna come in with me. You’d have a field day with this kinda thing. Châtenay seems like a man who’d entertain you anyway.”

You’d think it over for a moment, you could hear chatter already coming from the windows of the building that were open just a crack. Surely you’d find entertainment in it but you were also fond of the arts as well. Though paintings of women laid out nude wouldn’t strike something in you as it would in a man, you’d be surprised if you were the only woman in that building other than the ones on canvas. –At least this would bring some entertainment to your day. 

“I’ll keep you company. Lead the way– or, shall I? Seeing you’re horrible with directions.”

“Up the stairs and to the right.” He’d recite the directions written on the back of that card. “I think I can remember that.”

You two walked into the building together, up the stairs and to the right and you were there. The first hall was filled with sculptures, beautiful paintings hung against the blue walls, the next room you two stepped in was Châtenay’s, you and Arthur’s gaze met with women’s breasts and men’s cocks painted with oils on the canvases. It surely was– something. Arthur tugged his collar to clear his throat. 

The room had more of a variety of guests than you thought, actually more women than men which came as a shock up until you realized these women were actually the models conversing with the other models. They seemed quite proud of their work, respectably so. Arthur had spotted the french artist across the room chatting one of the models up, he wouldn’t want you to get mixed up in his own charades so Arthur would squeeze your shoulder for your attention just for a moment.

“Why don’t you stay here, pretend to be a model or sumthin’, princess. Wouldn’t want you to get your ear talked off by Charles.” 

Your eyes fell on the french artist as he stood distracted across the room, you could barely hear nor understand the words that he was blabbering out through his thick french accent. Something told you maybe it was a good idea for Morgan to handle what he’s gotten himself into with this man before you were stuck talking to someone you could hardly understand, stuck replying with ‘mhm’s’ and ‘uh-huh’s’ as if you knew what he was saying. Although you’d feel a bit awkward standing there and staring at the intimate paintings of both men and women while standing in the same room as the people being portrayed in oil, it’d probably be best for you at least, you were only here to keep Arthur company and today you felt you’d be less of a nuisance to him by obeying his wishes.

“Sure thing.”

You watched as Arthur walked away from you all the way to the other side of the gallery leaving you alone with the model’s dressed in their elegant, expensive attire that you could only dream of owning. And unfortunately due to the paintings you now know what’s under the rich clothing.

– That evening only got more interesting from there on. It was quite ridiculous, you and Arthur couldn’t have been there for more than fifteen minutes before all hell started to break loose. The husbands and wives of the models had practically raided the building before shouting at their spouses, you couldn’t really tell what was happening between Châtenay being attacked by the men and the women, being hit with a variety of chairs, purses, and of course, fists. Before things could get out of hand with you in the mix Arthur came over to you. He had a wide smile on his face, could’ve sworn this was the first time you’ve seen him laugh so hard he had developed tears in the corners of his eyes. 

“You should probably get outta here before you get in the mix of fists, sweetheart–” His voice quickly cut off by a crash as he escorted you out of the gallery. “Wait outside.” He’d pat your shoulder, leaving you standing at the top of the stairs as he left to go help the artist.

“Sure– thing.”  It was like that turned into your only response.

You didn’t really have time to leave with a jest, or something more than two words, not to be a pussy but you really didn’t feel like being hit by a stray flying chair, so you just walked down the stairs and back outside. You’d laugh to yourself as you walked down the street and away from that brick building, of course the highlight of the day only lasted a short moment, it was quick and rushed, but really you didn’t need to stare at those paintings any longer than you already have. -You felt as if Charles or the gallery wouldn’t be mentioned or thought of again, at least in this moment. But you’d be wrong about that. -The sun was setting now, it looked beautiful against all the buildings that made up the city, you found a bench to sit on, figured you’d read that paper you got earlier while you waited for Arthur. Your eyes would skim the words but nothing would really register.

____

A little while had gone by and after the sun finally set, the stars scattered against the dark sky as you stayed patiently waiting on that wooden –and quite uncomfortable bench, constantly finding yourself adjusting and shifting to get more comfortable, ‘course it didn’t work . You heard footsteps, looking up from the newspaper you felt you read about a hundred times by now out of pure boredom you were relieved to see that it was Arthur.

“Jesus, I thought you’d never come back. Why’d you take so long?” 

“Had to escort the dumbass home so he didn’t get killed. Seems he had a whore waiting for him an’ everythin’.” 

You’d let out a short breath at that, not quite a laugh, you felt your body getting a bit tired but you quickly shook off the feeling, rubbing your eyes with the back of your palm before standing from the bench, leaving the paper behind you, you had a bit of a ride back to Shady Belle, wouldn’t want to fall asleep on the back of your horse. You also had to get all that food and goods you bought back to the camp –though you weren’t quite sure how urgent we needed the provision.

You and Arthur started walking down the sidewalk, side-by-side, the night air now nipping at your skin through the thin fabric of your blouse. It had been too long without a good tease from you to purposely annoy him, clearing your throat to prepare to speak.

“How do you know that artist anyway?”

He’d look down at you as he walked, that was a fair question to ask.

“I met him in the saloon –not the big one down the street here, the smaller one. Don’t know if you’ve ever been there.”

You’d shrug. “I’ve passed by it.”

Arthur would nod. “Met him in there and somehow he convinced me to go to that little show. Gave one of his–”  He'd stop his words looking down at you before shaking his head. 

“Nevermind” 

Charles gave him one of his many artworks, a nude woman, an illustration that he embarrassingly kept safely in his satchel since. And now he’d especially not want to tell you, you were already amused that he even went to the damn show which he himself had more fun that he should’ve. Though, to mention, he didn’t start having fun til’ Châtenay was getting his ass handed to him.

You on the other hand were now dying to know what he gave Arthur, –can’t just start a sentence without finishing it. You had a feeling begging him for the answer wouldn’t work of course, you’d try anyway.

“Oh come onnnnnn.” You sneered. “M’sick of you doing that, you’ve been on this earth long enough to realize you can’t just start a sentence without finishing.”

‘N’ I’ve known you long enough to know I shouldn’t be givin’ you any more reasons to laugh at me.”

“I don’t– laugh,” You’d scoff. “Five months isn’t long either, you barely know me.”

Morgan let out a sigh, tying to think of a good excuse to kinda brush away what he said. Something to finish the sentence he started. “He gave me some money, paid me to go to that exhibit. Don’t want you goin’ around thinkin’ I’m a pervert who went for a good time.”

You’d look up to him after he said that. If that’s all it was –money. “I wasn’t thinkin’ that.”

Well, maybe it crossed your mind once or twice. But then again why would he stop himself from saying that? Right now you couldn’t bother to make sense of it, you just shrugged it off. –Now the walk was silent for the most part, there wasn’t really anything to say. Once you got to your horse you’d pat the saddle bag, feeling that your goods hadn’t been stolen, letting out a sigh before turning back to Arthur.

“We should both get back to camp before someone gets worried.”

Really, you didn’t know who would get worried, you’ve stayed the night at a hotel in the city more times than you could count just so you could sleep in a comfortable bed ‘stead of your worn, hard cot. 

“No one will be worried. Come on I’m the one who made you stay out here longer than you intended, I’ll buy you a whiskey or sumthin’.” 

You’d look at him, almost surprised to hear the offer. It was rare for him to be sweet, if that was the right word for offering you a drink. It sounded good, the thought alone of the cool alcohol burning down your throat already waking you up a bit more than you were.

“That’d– that’d be nice.”

_____

Not too long after those words were shared you and Morgan had made it into the saloon, the faint playing of the piano heard from across the street now loud along with the chatter between people sitting and eating at their tables to the men around their table playing poker. Since it was a bit later in the day –the night now fully taking its course, it was like a signal for men and women alike to flood the saloon. You and Arthur had found a booth to be separated from the crowd at least a little bit. You both set your satchels down on the corners of your seats, Arthur’s finger tapping against the finished wood that made up the table before he took out a cigarette from his satchel along with his lighter, flicking the flame before holding it against his cigarette to light it, Adjusting to stuff the lighter conveniently into the pocket of his pants, inhaling the tobacco into his lungs before blowing the smoke away from the booth.

“I’ll get up, get us some drinks.” 

“Mhm.” You’d hum as you watched him shift out of the booth, walking away to go to the bar. You’d notice something in his empty space, a piece of paper had fallen out of his satchel. You didn’t think anything of it of course, didn’t bother reaching over to put it back in for him. Curiosity killed the cat.

A few minutes later Arthur came back with a couple bottles, sitting back down into the leather seats of the booth with a sigh, the bottles clinking against the table as he placed them down.

“Thanks.” You'd nod, popping the cork out the bottle with your thumb.

“Just two beers, don’t wanna get too drunk, not here.”

Boy, was he wrong. 

After those two beers Arthur had gotten up again to get another. Once beers were out he went to whiskey. One whiskey was out he grabbed any alcohol they had at that bar. Two turned into four. Four turned into six, –eight… Ten.. Fuck.

To be fair you didn’t have as many drinks as Arthur deciding to play responsible tonight, but it was still enough.

The once clean table turned into a mess of empty bottles, glasses, Arthur’s cigarettes and the ashes from made a mess of the ashtray pushed to the side of the table. Random splashes of golden liquid dripped on the table. Now piss drunk in a booth with an also piss drunk Morgan was… Actually a real fuckin’ good time. A peep could escape your lips and Arthur could double over the table with laughter, same with you. 

One idiotic conversation after another you finally thought of it again even through your drunken haze –whatever that artist ‘gave him’ to persuade him into going to the gallery. Why was it clawing at you so much? You usually weren’t so interested in him or his life. Maybe it was because you knew he was blatantly lying to you. 

 “Now– you tell me the hell that– that artist gave you– remember?” 

Finishing the sentence with a hiccup you’d look back at Arthur. Now since you both were a couple more shots away from passing out onto the sea of glasses that made up the table, both of your tongues were loose, of course.

He let out a laugh, shaking his head as he reached into his satchel. “Goddamn, guess you know how to loosen a man up–”  He pulled out that piece of paper that was earlier peeking out from the top of the leather. “--Gave me this pretty little drawin’. Ain’t she a fuckin’ ‘beaut, eh?”

The picture he slid over to you from the other side of the table was a photograph of a nude woman of course, her bare breasts on a perfect display as she perched on a chair. You couldn’t help but laugh, was he really carrying this around all this time? Sure– that creep of a man could truly draw, but Arthur wasn’t one to keep aimless gifts close to him, definitely not directly in his satchel for safe keepings –though you couldn’t imagine what he was actually doing with this picture. If it’s what you thought that would be pretty damn pathetic. 

“He surely can draw– that man–” You’d slur, sliding the illustration back to Arthur, wasn’t something you really needed to study.  “--Now, you don’t–” You’d clear your throat “Surely you don’t–” “Now princess, I’d need a lot more than a sketch for that.”

You’d laugh, his words melted right off his tongue from the alcohol. Right now you couldn’t even force yourself to think anything of the words he was saying, and anyway, the thought of a man –even Arthur jerking off to a measly sketch of a woman sounded more unappealing than something that’d get you going. Why would it anyway? Arthur was– well, he was Arthur. You’d often be cautious to even call him a friend of yours. Though right about now in the haze of booze that clouded your brain and same his, he’d most definitely call you his friend as an introduction at least.

The music, the chatter, the yelling and hollering in the saloon was echoing through your head. You were sure the pianist practically banging on the keys of the piano would split your ears open if you stayed in that place any longer –you’d ignore it for now, hell maybe even another drink would solve that problem.

“...I didn’t need to know that information.” You’d finally get past your lips with another giggle, slouching over the table with that damned empty bottle still in your grasp, being swung around to enunciate all your sentences. 

Arthur raised an eyebrow, he couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips –blame the brandy for that. He leaned back into the leather seats of the booth, his arm lazily draped onto the table, tapping his finger against the glass bottle he held –completely empty. 

“You asked.” 

He shrugged, taking a long sip from the glass bottle, savoring the feeling of the cool liquid slipping down his throat, feeling unnecessarily in love with the burning. You’d pout, tap your finger against the bottle you held, but the corners of your lips betrayed you, a smirk quickly replaced how your bottom lip would stick out from your top.

 “Didn't expect an answer– not like that–” hic “–not from you.”

“What are you– drawin’ these types of things too? Psh– maybe you needed the reference.” You’d mock him, that brought a scoff from his lips as if you just said something so fucking absurd, he shook his head, slamming his bottle back down onto the wooden table as you swirled your empty bottle around the table. His gaze was seemingly stuck on the table as if he was examining the grooves and knots in the wood, running his finger along the imperfections.

“No, I–” His voice was conveniently cut off by a bang coming from one of the tables, more loud hollering, yelling –looks like someone won a poker game at least, the table surrounded by wasted men, all a bit too excited to be here tonight. Arthur was clearly getting antsy and the alcohol was even clouding your vision. 

Imagine a radio overlapping ten different songs over each other and now replace the songs with the not-so pleasant sounds of men who’d been guzzling booze all night screaming over losing their money by their own stupid and idiotic decisions, women cackling over the city’s pointless gossip– that damn piano! You were ready to smash your beer bottle over the pianist’s head–

 You tried to take a swig from your empty bottle before tossing it onto the table with the others. With a groan Arthur buried his face into his worked palms, he seemed just as sick of it as well.

“Goddamn–” He’d groan. His hands pressing harder into his face as if he was desperately trying to wipe away the noise. “Fuck. Fuck…” 

You two just couldn’t stand it anymore. 

__________

So, why stand it?

You and Morgan made it out of the bar successfully without beating someone with one of the bottles from the mess you had carelessly left on the table –you two getting out of there in time for the bartender to say anything. Swinging your satchels over your shoulders you two left the godforsaken noisebox that saloon had turned on, now all the ‘’hootin’ ‘N’ hollerin’,, was a faint sound heard from the distance as you walked down the sidewalk.

You rubbed your temple with the pad of your thumb, feeling a little better now without all the over fucking excitement.

“Gah– fuck.” Arthur would lean up against the brick building beside him, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before looking forward, noticing the lit sign for the hotel in the distance. It was quite obvious you two wouldn’t want to be riding your horse back to camp right now. Morgan checked his pocket watch, the arms of the clock pointing to 11:35. ‘Kay, not too late.

“You don’t wanna ride all the way to camp right now, do ya?” His voice deeper than normal from all the drinking, the slurring.

“Not particularly,” 

With a pause your head turned to the sign of the hotel, it’d be better just to go right straight there, once again you might’ve gone it anyway tonight just for that comfortable bed that comes with the deal  –Hell, two dollars could get you a bed with two rooms if you’re lucky enough. 

A hum escaped your throat as you nodded. “I–”

“Dont– don’t worry I’ll be payin’” 

As if you didn’t have two dollars to spare you perked up a bit at that. Guess it was all you needed to hear.

No more excuses, you’d be spending the night with this drunken fool. 

You two both were wobbly on your feet, of course with the amount of shots and bottles practically swallowed whole you could go figure that. You walked into the front doors as you tried to adjust your clothes, Arthur pushed his hat up so it wouldn’t be slouched over his eyes.

“Ah, may I help you two?” The clerk at the front desk had one of those fake overexaggerated smiles on his face.

“Just lookin’ for a room to stay the night. Nothin’ special.” He’d clear his throat, trying to shake off the drunken slur that was making his voice. “Two beds.”

Of course he had to clarify that– er, it only made sense anyway. It’d be really awkward if you and Arthur had to share a–

“Sorry, we don’t have rooms with two beds here.”

Shit.

Well it was logical at least, why would they? Let’s think. Who actually gets hotel rooms – commonly it’s men who’ve bought themselves a whore for the night or someone looking for a place to rest on their ventures. Not often you have two drunken outlaws stumbling in asking for two beds.

“Fine. M’That’s just– fine.” 

Arthur would pass some money over the desk to the man behind, in exchange he received a key to the room.  

“Upstairs, first room to your left, enjoy the stay folks.”

Jesus, you could’ve sworn that smile was melting off that clerk’s face as he spoke. You’d rub your temple again as you and Arthur just said a quick ‘’thank you,, in unison. 

Both of your boots would stomp heavily up the stairs. – upstairs first room to your left. Once there you turned to it, Arthur put the key in, turned it, opened the door. The rusted hinges creaked as it opened, though despite that sound the door opened to reveal a very nice looking hotel room. The bed was made, a thick quilt and were those– satin pillows? 

Surely this was paradise.

Arthur’s eyes looked around the room, other than the bed, a dresser in front, couple nightstands and an oil lamp to give the room a nice warm light –there was an arm chair pushed to the side of the room. 

“I’ll take the chair.”

He groaned as he shimmied his coat off of his shoulders, lazily throwing it onto the arm of the chair. Now with this action he also removed his satchel, it hit the nightstand by the bed, narrowly missing the lamp and hitting the edge before his palms met with his forehead again.

“M’gonna try to find a bathroom in this place–”

You’d let a scowl cross your mouth as he said that, watching as he stumbled out the door, closing it behind him.

Well, at least you could get some peace and quiet– is what you would say if there wasn’t the sound of the bed creaking clearly from rocking back and forth and a quick pace wasn’t coming from behind the drywall of your own room. Whatever, somehow that could be easily ignored by you.

You did notice something more interesting than that though –something you couldn’t seemed to ignore: Arthur’s satchel had fallen from where he had thrown it, landing onto the floor as all his things fell all of it –a mess of papers and money, a couple packs of cigarettes too. You’d click your tongue as you went to pick it up, noticing his journal had fallen out too.

You crouched down to start putting his things back into the leather bag, the money, the cigarettes, though your hands lingered on the worn leather back of his journal for a bit longer than they should’ve.

No, you shouldn’t.

But what if you just– one peak wouldn’t hurt. 

Arthur would probably take a while anyway figuring he went to presumably empty his body of all the alcohol he had drank in just one evening.

 Though as you looked more at the mess on the ground below your knees you’d notice the papers more, one was right side up but underneath the journal, so you’d lift it. Doing so revealed the full drawing done in pencil–

A sketch of a nude woman much like one Châtenay had drawn. But this one– it seemed different. There was more detail, more fluidity to the art, it looked all the more real. Down to the freckles drawn down the valley of her breasts.

You flipped over another stray paper, this one of the same. A naked woman, her breasts on full display, detailed. You’d flip another

And then another.

You’d open his journal.

Flipping through the pages where he’s drawn various things, trees, animals, beautiful scenery of places he’s traveled with the locations written in the corners, some pages filled with chicken scratch of his thoughts– you’d pay no mind to those. You started to notice the pages that were ripped out from his journal yet kept in, more drawings. 

Were you going crazy or did these drawings turn from your average woman with long wavy locks and bright eyes to– you…?

You felt a coil in your gut as you looked down at the images, not the bad kind of coil that you’d get while you’re being chased by an armed man or the kinda coil you’d get as a kid when your parents caught you stealing from the cookie jar– no, you could tell it wasn’t that kind from the additional heat that pooled in your tummy.

Your breathing would pick up, your eyebrows knitted closely as you looked down at these drawings. Your eyes. Your lips. Your nose. Quite obviously your hair too–

Fuck. You were beginning to hear footsteps stumbling down the hallway. You’d quickly shove the contents of his satchel back in, you surely didn't have time to worry about where everything went– if it’d just fall out again, if he’d notice it had been ran and rummaged through. Once it was all in there you quickly latched the button and placed it back on the nightstand, quickly standing from your knees as soon as he opened the door.

“Hi–” 

How could a two letter greeting sound guilty as ever?

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as a grunt escaped the back of his throat, though now looking at him maybe you didn’t wish you were as drunk as him right now –even if it probably meant you’d be forgetting about those drawings by now, maybe you’d just brush it off. 

He closed the door behind him as he coughed into his fist, gently guiding you out of the way so he could get to the satchel on the nightstand– 

Fuck.

As he undid the button he reached in to grab a packet of cigarettes when he noticed one of them was missing. 

“You take one of these?”

He’d say, popping the last one of the packet actually still in his satchel between his lips before lighting it.

“What– no! No– I don’t smoke…”

He’d look at you with his half-lidded gaze he’s had since the saloon, furrowing his brows at your reaction, frazzled for no good reason.

“Christ, girl. You don’t take your liquor well.”

That was funny, you’d think it was the other way around.

“I think it’s quite the opposite, Arthur.”

You’d see his gaze shift to the floor as he looked around, where could’ve that pack gone? He was sure he had a second one– no, he knew he had a second one since he just went out and bought it earlier in the day and– Ah, there it was. Halfway to being pushed completely under the bed Arthur bent to pick it back up. He was too delirious to think of why it even got there.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at him, his body– those fingers that you now knew were once holding a pencil to paper, sketching you, what he imagined to be underneath those pretty blouses you wore, those skirts that stopped at your ankles. 

This was killing you. Even though you hadn’t said a word to him you still felt like you were lying to him, deceiving him. You never had a problem with that before anyway, why start now? 

You knew what else you always were –that damn loud, snarky girl he always hated to be around. The one who’d let any words leave her mouth without a thought and now you’re here, standing in silence, you’d think your mouth was sewn shut. 

Under the shadow of the bed Arthur saw something else– a paper.

Shit. 

He tapped his boot on top of it and dragged it out, the sound of the paper sliding across the wooden floor heightened your senses again. Course it was one of those drawings, those drawings. It was his turn for his heart to rapidly thump against his ribs.

“Fuck.” You’d hear him groan as he bent down to pick up that paper now, looking it over, it wasn’t one of the drawings of you, one of the quick sketches of a woman he hadn’t named.

“You didn’t–”

…

“I did.”

The room fell silently quickly after that, how could it not? There was no point of you mustering up a flustered, messy defense in a long drawn out blabber that’d escape your lips so you’d just admit it. It wasn’t nothing you did wrong anyway. Arthur sighed, rubbing his hand over his face once more as he shoved the drawing back into his satchel, easily frustrated now he’d just crump it up into a ball before getting it into the leather bag. He braced his hands on the edge of the night stand, taking in a deep long breath before letting out an even deeper and even longer breath out. 

You should say something– say something so he could look you in the eye.

“I– didn’t ask for those.”

“I know.” He’d breathe.

“I didn’t even realize you considered us friendly– I had no clue you–”

“I know.”

Your fingers would twitch at your sides, swallowing hard.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me…”

At first in his head those words sounded– like they could be angry, it might’ve been his brain telling him that. Then he heard that tone– that almost breathless tone in your voice. He finally got the courage back to look you in the eyes, his fingers peeling away from the edge of that nightstand, if his nails dug into the finished wood any harder he would’ve left indents.

“You should be angry with me.”

“I’m not. I mean– I couldn’t be farther from that.” 

You’d stop a moment, his breathing was heavy and so was yours. Arthur would push and twist his cigarette into the ashtray to put it out, blowing out the rest of the smoke through his nostrils with a suppressed, small cough.

“What are you then, princess?’

The name he had been calling you all day now sounding completely different in this heavy tone. You knew exactly what you were. Voicing that would be a little difficult. You felt if you did end up blurting something out it’d either kill the moment or kill him. His voice still had a slur to it from the alcohol, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Your own throat ran dry as you flicked your eyes to his plump, pink lips.

A man like Morgan knew what that look you gave meant, he’s had his own fair share of whores over the years, working girls were his usual go-to after Mary at least, before too. I mean, Christ, the man had himself a son once he knew what your eyes alone were saying.

“Why don’t you find out…” You’d finally blurt.

His boots clicked against the ground as he walked close to you, his hand reaching out to cup the nape of your neck.

The way his face slowly, so carefully slowly moved towards yours you’d think he was going in for a slow, gentle capture of your lips– not quite.

His face twitched– leaving you with a brief flash of micro emotion before he would collide his lips against your own, his fingers curling and tangling in your locks of hair.

___________

His tongue delved into your mouth before your own body got the chance to respond, your arms quickly wrapping around his neck as you moaned into the kiss. His hands slid down your shoulders, arms, the curve of your waist, hips, all the way down to your thighs, hands moving to the back of them to hoist you up against his body, his palms laid flat against your ass.

Your legs locked around his hips, finding difficulty to find a place to settle your hands as his tongue fucked your mouth, his shoulders? His arms? You’d eventually give them a home on his vest-covered chest, your fingernails digging into the black leather. 

He could feel the denim of his pants stretch around his growing cock, he hoisted you higher, your clothed breasts practically at his lips now, those lips quickly parted from your lips to move down your neck, sucking at your pulse point.

You would never consider yourself noisy, not ever. Your life so far had never called for sex, sure men had given you their eyes, licking their lips seemingly to grab your attention but they never did, failing miserably instead of getting what they wanted from you. Playing with yourself was a lost cause but you’d count it as experience, the frustrated pumps of your own fingers into your pussy weren’t enough to draw pleasure, relieve the ache in your stomach, it only made it tighter.

Arthur had sucked a hickey into your skin, he made sure it’d be hidden by your hair since it was so far up on your neck. His roughened hands still would squeeze your ass cheeks, fingers working you like dough before giving it a quick, hard spank. Almost just muscle memory for him.

With a grunt he’d lower you two down onto the bed, his mouth quickly returned to yours with the same –nearly violent pace. The bulk of his muscles pressing into your more so petite form. His hand roamed your body – your legs, thighs, stomach, moving up to cup then squeeze your soft breast, the pad of his thumb teasing your budded nipple through the thin fabric of your blouse rewarding him with a moan from your sweet lips.

Just the feeling of his clothing rubbing against his body was driving him mad, ‘’uncomfortable,, couldn’t even express it anymore, it was hell. His hands reluctantly pulled away from you, at a quick pace his thick fingers undid the buttons of his heavy vest, when that was gone, quickly discarded to the floor he finally felt like he was gaining - at least some - of his breath back, now it was a matter of his shirt, quickly undoing the buttons of that next. Fuck, he needed you.

He needed you right fucking now. 

He shimmied the shirt off of his shoulders, down the muscles of his arms before it dropped to the floor behind him –he was on top of you again. His hips bucked into yours quick and hard. Grinding. Rubbing.

Your hair would splay behind you on the bed, always thought in moments like this your eyes should be closed, that seemed like common knowledge, your half-lidded eyes still refused to fully close, especially now that his shirt was off. You’ve of course seen Morgan with his shirt off before, tending to his wounds, his cuts, bathing in the lake out by camp– close up like this it was different. His biceps pulsing as his hands braced on either side of your head, fingers curling into the blanket. Puffs of hard breaths would escape him, it was almost like a pattern before he’d grab you by the sides of your thighs tight.

Arthur would let himself fall back against the pillows that piled against the bed frame, dragging your body right onto his lap –now it was obvious how hard he was, that mass between his legs pulsating against your ass, your back pressed against his chest as he snaked an arm around you, quickly so fucking fast. He’d begin unbuttoning your blouse, tugging it right off of you, you were surprised he didn’t tear the fabric off of your pretty little body. His hands moved up, groping and squeezing your tits from behind, one of his hands moved down your body, down your sternum, stomach, and past the hem of your skirt, dripping your hand under it before his thick fingers found your panties.

Fucking hell you were soaked.

“Jesus christ… Fuckin’ hell you’re soaked…”

He’d grunt, he hadn’t spoken in a while, so focused on his movements, breathing. This was something he couldn’t ignore. He placed a kiss on your nape before his fingers would slide past your wet underwear, his hips involuntarily thrusting into your ass, squeezing your tit harder as he pushed two of his big fingers into your hot cunt. Your head lolled back against his shoulder as you practically squealed. 

“Arthur–!”

Your mouth was wide open, sharp, sinful moans escaping from you as his fingers curled inside you, fuck. If you couldn’t even handle his fingers how would you handle his cock. You can only imagine how fucking big it was. Big hands, muscles, body, it’d be one of god’s greatest jokes if it didn’t live up to the rest of his body.

Your cunt would clench around his fingers- it had been this whole time. His fingernail scraped across the tip of your erect nipple again, you’d squirm in his arms, your own fingers digging into his massive biceps, the tip of your finger tracing the vein that ran down it, his muscle would twitch.

With a wet squelch from your tight pussy Arthur would withdraw his fingers from your walls, you weren’t finished. Wasn’t his concern. The coil in your gut felt like it’d burst any second, your cunt left throbbing, empty without the fill of his fingers.

He was gonna give you something better than his fingers.

“Lift up…”

His mouth was pressed against your ear feeling the hot breath fan onto your lobe. His hands gripped onto your hips, pulling that pretty dark skirt right down the length of your legs, you could hear the clinking of his belt behind you, making your ears perk. 

“Up.”

Another command escaped his lips, you’d nod as you shakily got off of him, kneeled onto the bed. Arthur blew out the oil lamp on the bedside table, the room now lit by the paleness of the moonlight that shone through the windows, the curtains spread. It wasn’t like people would see anyway, though it’d be a good show.

Once he had unbuckled his belt he threw it to the ground– Arthur didn’t wear briefs, why would he? They caused him more discomfort, an extra layer of tightness to his balls and shaft. One tug of his work-pants and his hard, thick cock sprung from the confines of the black denim, the light from the window reflecting on the bead of precum that beaded off his cockhole. His size was impressive, sending a signal through your body– you couldn’t control yourself anymore. You ripped your underwear right off of that poor bundle of nerves that it protected, tossing the wet lace down onto the floor.

You practically crawled to him, his hands reached for your hips before pulling you on top of him, walking on your knees over him, his cock shooting straight up as it twitched with your pussy like it was fucking magnetic. You’d sink your body down onto the thickness, moaning his name as you sheathed him into your pulsating cunt. His hand wrapped around the headboard, gripping it for dear life as he pumped his way into you–

“Fuck!” Your hands braced on either one of his hips before one trailed up to his chest.

“That’s it– that’s fuckin’ it, princess.”

His thrusts quickened, his back arching up with each fast pound of his pelvis. His cock slipping deeper into your gummy walls with each snap. His dick curved inside of you, the head of his shaft kissing your g-spot, he felt so painfully good, your teeth bit into your thumb to try to muffle the sounds escaping your mouth, your body shaking. 

You didn’t want to let yourself be this –a mess on top of him. Riding him. You had to gain some control even with his cock slapping inside of your sore hole. His eyes opening up, releasing the headboard to trail back to your breasts, those scarred, calloused hands - once again - giving the tender mounds another generous groping. Your hands would run to rest on top of his own big ones, the size of him consuming every sense –not only his dick, his hands, his body. Looking down and seeing the muscles in his stomach tense and twitch, his head arching backwards into the comfortable pillows behind. He was close. Surely you were too.

His hand ran to the small of your back as he helped you a bit, pushing himself up against the headboard so his body was lazily sat up now, your hips rolling back and forth into his as you ground down, making a loud, throaty moan release from the back of his throat, his balls slapped against your ass, now you’ve got it. Bouncing up and down on his cock leaving him with no mercy.

“You’re gonna make me cum, princess– you’re’mmmm–”

His eyes locked onto the sight of your perfect tits bouncing up and down as you took his cock, he felt his sack tighten up, that unbearable sensation deep in his gut, he was gonna cum. He needed to cum. Though you were still chasing that high as his fingers dug into your waist, your skin there raw and pink from the tight hold. The base of his cock rubbed against your clit, the coarse hair crowning it scratched against the sensitive, swollen bud, the sensation making you lose every bit of yourself to him.

With one more curved thrust from him you’d climax, your body collapsing over top of his as you did. Making sure to cry right into his ear. Your trembling fingers clawing and digging into the broad, tense muscles of his shoulders. His eyes rolling back into his skull as his orgasm followed yours, strings of hot semen coating your inner walls as he fucked it into you, making your pussy milk out every hot, thick rope of cum, his head falling foreward between the valley of those pretty tits he’d been admiring all night. 

“Oh fuck, princess.” 

His voice wavered as he tried desperately to catch his breath back though it seemed it’d all been stolen from his lungs.

“Oh, Arthur…”

That desperate whine squeaked from your lips. A kiss was planted on your clavicle before he’d guide you so you were underneath him again, careful not to jar you too much after all he was well aware of how hard he had just fucked that tight little hole of yours. He’d pull his shaft out from those walls that were spasmed around him just a second ago, watching all that access, hot seed spill out from your pink petals. 

Did you think that was it? Surely you had to return the favor.

Arthur had a cigarette lit and hanging from his lips that were wet with his own salvia, your head between his legs bobbing up and down on that thick cock that was still coated with your own juice. His fingers tangled up in your hair, fucking your mouth with the same force as he had with your cunt just moments ago. The cigarette in his hot mouth was the only thing suppressing his noises, taking it between his fingertips just to let out a loud long moan. 

You’d gag when his swollen tip hit the back of your throat unexpectedly, your hands digging into his thighs as your eyes held close so fucking tight tears welled up in them, making your vision blurry as you looked up at Arthur, eyes closed, puffing on that cigarette. Your left hand went to wrap around your base as you pulled him nearly completely out of your mouth, your lips still wrapped around his cockhead, your tongue tracing his hole.

“Goooooood fuckin’ girl… Keep going–” 

Your hand jerked him off now as your abused throat got to catch a break, though it’d still need to be put up to work, hm? You hopped onto his thigh as your hand now caressed his chest, trickling your fingers down his thick chest hair that covered the tan skin. Your thumb teased his red hot tip, before you kept rolling your hand up and down –he was close, you now leaned to tell when that vein that ran down his low stomach all the way down to the middle of his shaft began to twitch and pump you’d get to milk the man dry a second time. A mix of your drool and his precum dripping down his length.

Your fist tightened around him as your mouth locked with his as he held the smoking cigarette between his forefinger and his middle, his hand wrapping in your hand to the nape of your neck, hips bucking into your palm, he cums again. Hard. Right into your fist. 

Arthur was panting like a damn dog, you had jerked him off just right to get his legs to tremble as they spread for you. He broke away from your mouth to catch his breath that you stole from him. You trailed a kiss to his neck, he had been marking you all night you thought it was only fair to give him some too, sucking a purple mark into his skin before trailing your mouth down.

“Good girl— good fuckin’ girl…” He was a mess.

His praise was always a godsend to you, ringing through your ears, you craved it. Your tongue ran down his collar, his shoulder, then down his arm, those pulsing muscles that were smooth to the touch, glistening with his sweat. The way his chest began heaving heavily as you traced the thick vein that ran down his bicep with your tongue.

Receiving was something that his body needed. But giving was something that he craved. Just hearing the sweet moans and cries from a woman’s mouth as it hung agape was something that could get him off more times at just the thought of than a blowy. 

–Though now your legs were on his shoulders as he pumped his tongue into your walls, running it up and down your slit as he - messily - ate your pussy, he was starving for it after all. Your back was arching upwards but his hands were too occupied holding your ankles to the dips of his shoulders to touch you anywhere else, his nose pressed against your clit –even his nose could find work. Your pants were hot and labored, all you can let out those sharp, gorgeous whines of his name, the one you’ve grown so accustomed to.

“Arthur!”

Again.

“Fuck- fuck, Arthur–!”

His name learned to roll off your tongue like honey, it seemed to be becoming the thing that came natural to you in life. He loved it, his mouth sucking feverishly at your clit, he knew all  those sweet-spots, you weren’t a religious girl, - if you were you wouldn’t be in your right mind to let Arthur do these truly sinful things to you - but you’d thank god to every whore, every woman that taught him these tricks. 

Your thighs would squeeze his head til’ it was about ready to pop, though that’s just what Arthur wanted, mumbling praise into your sweet, slick folds as his fingers moved into the mix too, forcing your body to that high you’d been desperately chasing, the pad of his finger pressing against one of your soft spots.

You’d cum hard on his face, your glistening climax now coated his beard as he removed his face from your thighs, looking at your heaving, shaking body now beneath him. Resting your legs down he’d slowly lower himself back onto you, his lips kissing from your navel to your lips, his body - and yours, of course - finally feeling a bit heavy.

“You’re too good f’me, girl…”

At the moment there was not enough oxygen in your lungs to give him a vocal response, you’d just nod, your cheeks flushed a pale pink. His hand moved to brush some hair away from your face, strands stuck to your cheeks, forehead, it was a sight for him. He’d pick you up, pulling you to sit in his lap as he held you to a tight embrace, nipping and kissing at your neck. He was so needy for you. 

______

The night had settled, only a bit. You found yourself tucked in Arthur’s arm with the warm quilt thrown on the hotel bed covering your bodies, both sore and spent.

Arthur had been flipping through the pages of his journal now, it only felt right to shamelessly show you the works he’s done of you now, of course those were only a couple.

“I stopped doin’ them for a while now… Most of them was from when I was drunk. Foolish.”

He’d explain, though it didn’t seem like it needed an explanation anymore, you didn’t care after all though you appreciated it. Your hand would reach out to touch the page, feeling the rough paper beneath your fingertips.

“I don’t mind…”

“Yeah well, maybe now you can model f’me, hm?… I’m always better working with a reference.”

You couldn’t help but giggle.

“It's a date then.”

You two had both fallen asleep shortly after, his sweet praises in your ear til your body was limp against his own, his fingers combing through your hair —a moment of intimacy and peace like this after he had fucked you so thorough. Not a thought of worry in your pretty little head.

 'Cept maybe how the ride back was gonna feel on that soreness between your legs– 

[cas-backwards-tie]

The 141 Men and Butt Grabbing

Request: How the boys react to getting their butts grabbed? 🍑

Warnings: Allusions to Sex, Spanking, Groping, Exhibitionism, Predator-Prey-Play, PDA, Established Relationships.

A/N: this is for @vikki-tikki-tavii 💕🙏🏻 thanks for your requests and ideas! I really appreciate them and this one definitely made me laugh to do 🥰 also credit to @bettybrenders on tiktok 🙈 for the lovely photos/renders of the guys 🧎‍♀️ I was just hoping to give you guys a visual. divider by @cafekitsune

Price: John is someone who has a sense of humor, okay? He has a sense of humor and he’ll prove it to you if you argue with him about it… that being said, however, if you spank or grab his butt in front of his friends (or god forbid—coworkers—but let’s face it, they’re usually one in the same) he’ll absolutely find himself flustered with his cheeks flushing a degree of red. You’ll be in serious trouble, no doubt, and he’ll make sure to repay the gesture tenfold when you two are alone again. Now if he’s in a position where he’s out and about and you do so, and he finds a quick moment where he won’t get caught returning the favor, he most definitely will swat one on you. However, if you’re alone and you decide to grab a handful, you’re either starting something he isn’t sure you can finish, or he’s laughing at the boldness of you. This usually winds up with you being chased throughout the house for revenge.

Ghost: Simon is more deadly in his reaction. Like his superior, if you happen to catch him in a vulnerable position out with friends in public, he’ll shoot you a look. You know how he feels about PDA, and if you’re caught red handed by the lot of bastards he calls friends, they’ll give him shit to no end. He doesn’t mind that, so much, as not feeling like he can return the favor within the company of others. What happens between the two of you should be reserved for the bedroom. Though what starts as a look, quickly turns into bedroom eyes and usually winds up with one of you dragging the other off to a secluded spot to continue things. When you’re alone, he’s more than glad to return the favor if you’d like, but when it comes to spanks, it’s not typically his style. He’ll slide his arms around your waist while you’re kissing and scoop up a handful, making sure to give you a nice squeeze in return. Overall, he finds it funny and cute how much joy you take in his caboose, and it’ll almost always garner an amused smile or a chuckle from the Giant.

Gaz: When it comes to Kyle, I fear it depends on his mood. Whether you give him a sneaky spank, or decide to just tease him with a nice squeeze of his cheeks, he’ll usually turn around and engulf you in a series of pecks and kisses all over your face. He knows how much you love to play, and he’s more than ready and able to return the mischievousness right back! With that said, if it’s a serious moment, or he’s not in the best mood, there’s a fifty-fifty chance of it lifting his mood. Sometimes he likes to be more intimate and sensual, wanting less of a silly vibe between the two of you. His work is hard, and it definitely takes a toll at times. But more often than not it draws a goofy smile onto his face and he’ll gladly return the favor if he’s in what he deems ‘the right company’… aka his friends or strangers. Really, it becomes something to get each other’s attention and bring a smile to their face. After all, he’s well aware of the effect he has on you, and vice versa.

Soap: Johnny has a hard time not giving into his impulses when it comes to you. If he can lighten the mood with a little practical fun and the excitement of his inner-child, he’s bound to do so. Between the two of you, it’s more of a game. He gets you, and you get him back. But be careful, because he’s also somewhat of a ravenous man and once he’s got a taste of you, it won’t be easy for him to back down or let go. You’re in his sights, you’ve got his attention, and boy… does he want yours back. Playing this game can either be something that’s long and drawn out, or quick and short considering you’ll eventually wind up in the bedroom (or bathroom, alley, etc) at some point down the line. Doing this will always distract him and take his mind off things, consequently turning him on, so you better be prepared for the consequences of your actions if you’re going around with grabby hands. Because he’s more than eager to return the favor!

[captainlunaxmen]

First Sight

Dark!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

Here we are! Sorry for the wait, but I thought I had everything planned out and... I didn't, so I'm sorry I made you wait this long❤️❤️❤️

Let me know what you think, please, because this is my first time writing a dark fic, so feedback is highly encouraged in this case🙏🙏🙏

Summary: Y/n has been part of the Covey since she can remember, when her best friend Lucy Gray is chosen for the Hunger Games her world is threatened, she need to stay strong for her family. She's never been one to love attention. She never wants to draw too much anyway, gladly leaving the stage to her best friend, but she managed to catch someone's attention anyway. A young, ambitious man from the Capitol saw her for just a moment, but that was enough to make an obsession grow inside him.

Warnings: dark fic, obsession, harassment, smut, rape.

Tag list:

@7s3ven @wintersforest @tallulah477 @diannnnsss @that-one-person-blue @kemo19

"Are you sure you want to wear that?" Y/n asks her best friend as they get ready to, yet, another reaping day.

"Of course." Lucy Gray answers, simply as ever, "at least I'll look pretty when they say my name."

"If." Y/n reminds her, "if they say your name."

"After all that mess with Billy Taupe? Mayfair will surely ask her daddy to pull some strings." Lucy Gray slightly scoffs.

"Maybe not..."

"You're too optimistic sometimes." She smiles at her friends, fixing the colourful skirt down.

"I just don't want to think about the worst." Y/n replies, tightening the belt on her own dress.

"Better get used to it."

They share a look, one filled with hope yet resignation too. They smile at each other and walk hand in hand out their home to get to the town square for the annual reaping.

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

They hold each other's hand until Lucy Gray's name is announced, and after a quick squeeze, she lets her friend's hand go to walk to the stage.

Y/n's breathing is heavy and frantic. She can't believe it, and when she notices Billy Taupe trying to talk to Lucy Gray, she has to contain herself from hitting him with a shoe... or two.

But her eyes are on her best friend walking up, and then she notices something in her hand. Y/n has to contain her laughter when Lucy Gray puts that something in Mayfair's dress. She can guess it was either a snake or a small lizard. Without much reaction to Mayfair's screams and the mayor's order to help his daughter Lucy Gray walk the stairs, but before she could get on, the mayor slaps her right in the face, making her fall Y/n's feet move on their own, she need to be blocked by a Peacekeeper to realise what was happening. She looks behind her to the rest of the Covey, scared and helpless. So the only thing that comes up to her mind is the only things that always help them all.

Music.

Y/n sings the first verse of one of their favourite songs, and when the other Covey follow Lucy Gray stands up and sings too.

She sends a sad smile to her family before walking away with Jessup and the Peacekeepers.

"Clear the square!" One of the Peacekeepers yells, and everyone starts to walk away to their own business.

"Let's go home." Y/n hugs Maude Ivory, and motion to the rest to follow her.

"Will we ever see her again?" CC asks.

"One thing about Lucy Gray is that she should never be underestimated." She replies, "So... she still hasn't sung her last song."

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

Coriolanus Snow is a collected man. Whatever happens to him, he tries his best not to show any reaction to it. But he almost can't help the gasp after he saw the girl from 12. He noticed how she wanted to reach her friend after the mayor slapped her.

Some people would dare say it's love at first sight, Coriolanus doesn't exactly know what to believe, he never felt like that before, he feels like all he could do all day is think of her, just that and it would be almost enough for him... only having her would satisfy him properly.

But he can't risk it... he can't risk his winning for someone he only saw for mere seconds.

He needs to keep his eyes on the real goal.

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

When he got home that day and talked to Tigris, he thought he left the girl in the back of her mind.

"I can't even imagine how her family must feel... that girl, did you see her?" Tigris asks, "her eyes when that man slapped Lucy Gray..."

"Yeah... she was ready to jump in and defend her." Coriolanus says casually, "she sang for her."

"I bet they sang a lot together... both of them got a beautiful voice." Tigris guesses, sadness evident in her voice.

"Beautiful indeed." Coriolanus whispers.

Now, his mind is back on her.

That nameless girl from 12. How did she manage to strike him like that? How she stepped out of line to reach her friend, how she sang for her. What was it?

"You okay, Coryo?" Tigris snaps him out of his thoughts.

"Who do you think she was?" He asks.

"Who?" Tigris is confused.

"That girl, the one who sang for Lucy Gray." He specifies.

"Oh... uhm.. I don't know. Her sister? Or maybe a friend, I don't know." She answers, still confused by her cousin's question. "Why do you want to know?"

"No reason." Coriolanus shakes his head, "Goodnight, Tigris."

Without waiting an answer he walks to his bedroom, gets ready for bed and lies on it with one thought in mind.

Surprisingly, not the Hunger Games.

No.

The nameless girl from 12.

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

Y/n helped Maude Ivory carry the small television their neighbours landed them so they could keep up with the games and, most importantly, Lucy Gray.

"Remember you have to babysit their babies this week, okay?" Y/n tells the young girl as they plug the television in.

"Of course, are you going to sell your bread?"

"Yes, I left some dough to rise this morning. By tonight, it'll be ready to bake." She assures her.

"Is it on?" CC comes in followed by Tam Amber.

"I think... if I do this." Y/n hits the box hard, and suddenly the screen turns on.

"Careful!" Maude Ivory shouts.

"He told me it needs it sometimes. It's okay." Y/n waves her off as the screen finally shows some movements, still no sound, but it's still something.

"Who is that?" CC asks, as a man appears on the screen wearing a high-collared suit and gelled hair, "is he a clown?"

"Could be..." Y/n sighs.

"Where is he?" Tam Amber asks, getting closer.

"No idea... there are bars behind him... I think..." Y/n tries to answer, but the scene is not clear yet, so she hits the television again.

"Y/n!"

"See? Now it's better." Y/n nonchalantly says, "seems like a cage... wait..."

"There's people inside." CC notices, "are those the tributes?"

"Oh god... probably."

"Can you see Lucy Gray?" Tam Amber asks.

"There... I think she's the only one wearing so much colour." Muade Ivory points at a point in the back.

"Yes, that's her... who's that with her?" Y/n moves closer to the screen, "he looks too cleaned up to be a tribute."

"No idea." CC says.

The host notices them too and apparently asks them to get closer.

Y/n looks more attentively at the guy, inspecting him now closer to the camera, it's clear he's not from the districts.

"Could it be someone from the Capitol?" The little one suggests.

"He could be... but why is he in there?" Y/n sighs, frustrated, "damn it, why can't we hear anything?"

"Y/n! I'm so sorry!" Barb yells from the kitchen.

Y/n is immediately on her feet running to her.

"What happ-" she starts but stops as soon as she see the bowl with the dough she prepared on the floor, "how?"

"I was cleaning and I accidentally hit it. I'm so sorry." Barb Azure explains, apologising again.

"It's..." Y/n lets out a puff of air, "it's okay, I can still save some. Don't worry."

"I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, really." She immediately pick up what she can from the floor, "I can save some. We'll just sell a little less than usual, tomorrow I'll make more."

"I'm..."

"Don't, it's okay, I promise. Go see Lucy Gray on TV, c'mon." She nudges the girl and kneel down to clean, " go."

Y/n watches Barb Azure disappear in the other room, takes a deep breath and goes back to work.

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

They managed with selling the bread, the milk, the occasional jewellery Y/n makes and the performance at the Hob to survive.

Y/n haven't been sleep well since Lucy Gray entered the Arena. She's glad Jessup and her managed to escape the toher tributes and found somewhere to hide. But Y/n can't help the anxiety devouring her everyday, she tries to ease the Covey, making them distracted with everything she could think of, but even singing and dancing isn't the same.

Y/n decided to forbid them from watching the games after Jill's, she thinks her name was, death and Reaper lined up the corpses of the others. She didn't want to risk them seeing Lucy Gray among them... she doesn't even know is she herself could.

But tonight Y/n feels like she needs to watch, she has to, for Lucy Gray, a way to be with her. She tries to spot her in the arena, and when the screen show Coral and Treech finding her in a air vent, Y/n stands immediately getting closer to the screen, and needs to hold in a scream when Coral manages to male her friend fall.

Out of her hiding space.

Back in the arena.

Suddenly a giant tank is lowered into the arena Y/n feels her breath stop. Nothing good could come out of there, nothing good comes from the Capitol.

The little girl from 8 get closer, thinking it's their signal they're going home, but unfortunately the tank breaks and thousands of colourful snakes creep out covering her small figure, most likely killing her.

They all run, run to a higher ground, the boy from 4 falls and the snakes caught up with him.

Lucy Gray and Coral run, while Reaper lets the snake take him.

Y/n holds her breath as she watches Coral say something to Lucy Gray, unfortunately they never managed to fix the sound so she can't hear them, but she can understand when Coral is dead, as the snakes tie themselves around her.

That leaves Lucy Gray the last one... she's won.

"What..."

Why aren't they letting her out? Usually they stop once there's only one left.

Lucy Gray keeps backing away from the snakes, and Y/n can see her mouth moving, she doesn't hear, but she can guess she's singing. Usually snakes there in 12 like music, maybe she's trying it with the Capitol's ones too.

When Lucy Gray's face points direct the camera it's clear ad the day that she's singing, with all the strength she has.

"Let her out." Y/n whispers.

Suddenly, the screen changes signaling that Lucy Gray indeed won the Hunger Games.

"Oh my god!" Y/n can't help but scream, she doesn't care if everyone is already asleep.

"What's going on?" Tam Amber walks in, sleepy face and all, followed by Maude Ivory.

"She won!" Y/n screams again.

"Lucy Gray won?!" Moude Ivory immediately runs to hug Y/n.

"She did it!"

"Does that mean she's coming home?" CC asks, he too arrived after hearing all the noise, Barb Azure too.

"I think so." Y/n nods, smiling like never before, a heavy burden is finally off her shoulders and she can let out a sigh of relief, "she's coming home."

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

"Your life has just begun." Sejanus tells him as they both travel to district 12, "you're gonna do great. We're both gonna do great."

"Just be careful, okay?" Coriolanus says to him, "it's a different world out here."

"Look at the bright side." He simply replies, and Coriolanus sends him a questioning look, "she might be there."

"Who are you talking about?"

"I heard you and Lucy Gray talking once." He starts, "you asked about the girl who sang for her at the reaping ceremony."

"I.." Coriolanus is caught off guard.

"You're lucky, Ma always told me stories when I was younger about love at first sight." He explains, "the way you ask more and more about her... you can't fool me." He lets out a small chuckle.

"And if she's not there?" Coriolanus asks.

"Why wouldn't she?"

"What if they killed Lucy Gray and she just doesn't want to have anything to do with me? How about that?" He challenges.

"They wouldn't. She was a hit, Coryo. There's no reason for them to kill her." Sejanus tells him, "so you know her name?"

Of course he does, it's the very first thing he asked Lucy Gray. He's been reciting her name since he learned it.

"Y/n." He smiles as he says it.

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

"You're singing with me tonight." Lucy Gray warns Y/n, as they gather the instruments they need for tonight's performance, the first since Lucy Gray got back.

"I am... so not doing it." Y/n replies, shaking her head.

"Why not?" She pouts.

"Because I... I'm not." Y/n simply answer, not meeting her eyes.

But Lucy Gray doesn't give up so easily, she tries to make eye contact with her friend, she knows she wouldn't resist.

"Give me a good reason." Lucy Gray challenges again.

"Because... The people want you." Y/n tells her, "you're better at singing than me."

"That's not true." Maude Ivory chimes in, "they loved you."

"Thank you..." Y/n says sarcastically, "I'm not doing it."

"Oh c'mon, I got back, think of it as a welcome back present!" Lucy Gray nudges her friend, "pleeeease."

"Nope, I was almost fainting the whole time I was on stage." Y/n shake her head once again, "not gonna happeen" she sings the last bit.

"You had to refuse me with that beautiful voice of yours too?" Lucy Gray accuses with a laugh.

"Yap." Y/n replies, "c'mon, we don't want tot be late."

"This is not the end." Lucy Gray warns her friend before taking her hand and then, with the rest of the Covey, head to the Hob.

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

Coriolanus couldn't contain himself, he can't wait to get out and find his girl.

She is his, he can't see it any other way.

They enter the Hob and Sejanus goes to get them a drink, while Coriolanus looks around, taking in the place, listening to the music.

His eyes find themselves on the stage, as a little girl goes to the mic.

"Is it hot in here?"

They must be the Covey Lucy Gray talked so much about, but he still can't spot Y/n. Where could she be?

The audience cheers loudly

"'Cause we're planning on heating it up a set more!" The girl screams, "the one, the only, Lucy Gray Baird!"

Coriolanus' ears perk up at her name, maybe his girl is with her.

Lucy Gray enters the stage, spinning with her guitar in hand, smiling as brightly as ever.

"Oh hey district 12, did you miss me?" She asks the audience, that immediately replies with a loud "Yes!"

"I bet you never expected to lay eyes on me again. And let me tell you, that goes both ways, but I am back. " She cheers, "I sure am back. Oh is that bottle there for me?" She asks pointing at a bottle of alcohol someone's holding up, " oh c'mon y'all, you know I gave up drinking when I was 12," she fakes complain and takes a sip, "just to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes! Now, how about a song, uh?" Everyone cheers, happy, "but, I can't, you know." The audience lets out confused and discontent noises, Lucy Gray glances slightly at the side of the stage, in the dark Coriolanus can't see anything, "it's been a while and I don't feel like singing alone tonight. But I'm afraid, my sweet best friend, won't do me the favour... how about you help me convince her?"

The audience immediately burst into a wave of cheers and applauses.

"Do you want her?"

The cheering gets louder.

"Y/n!" Lucy Gray yells, "c'mon out, babes!"

"Y/n. Y/n. Y/n!" The audience chants.

And at last, she walks on the stage, glaring at her friend playfully.

Coriolanus heart skips a beat as he watch her walking to her friend, he never thought he could get more enamoured with her, but here she is, and he can't seem to take his eyes off her. The way she takes the guitar Lucy Gray offers her, the way she timidly smiles at the audience, once again glaring at her friend for putting her in this position.

"See? They love you!" Lucy Gray points at the audience, "now, let's show them how it's done!"

Lucy Gray nudges her friend with her hip as Y/n starts to play the guitar.

Coriolanus eyes are solely on her, and she isn't even aware of it, he can afford admiring her a little more before making her his.

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

Lucy Gray is the happiest since she managed to have Y/n sing and dance with her, but the moment he notices a familiar pair of eyes he freezes for an instant.

Coriolanus Snow is here in 12, and he's looking, no... he's staring at her friend.

She notices his weird interest in Y/n from the many unusual questions he made when they were talking. She didn't like how he was talking and asking about her friend like that, like he thought she was his already. She always dismissed it as a stupid sensation, maybe it's exactly that, just her sensation. He might like her, but nothing bad... not necessarily. She doesn't want to think bad of it.

Of course she told the Covey about everything that happened in the Capitol, she just didn't mention this particular thing, to protect her.

She take advantage of an instrumental break to tell Y/n.

"He's here." She says.

"Who?" Y/n asks, looking at the crowd, locking eyes with a blonde man.

"My mentor, the one I talked to you about." Lucy Gray answers.

"Is he blonde?" Y/n asks and Lucy Gray nods,"Why is he here?"

"No idea."

Y/n simply shrugs and keeps play while Lucy Gray sings, unfortunately their performance is cut short by Billy Taupe intervention.

"Fuck..." Y/n sighs, keeping playing, "it's not the first time he acts like that."

"I know you miss me, Lucy Gray." Billy Taupe drunkenly says getting closer to the stage, followed by Mayfair trying to stop him.

"You said you wouldn't play with them anymore." She complains.

Lucy Gray looks at the Covey rolling her eyes, Y/n rolls her own in agreement.

Suddenly Billy Taupe almost jumps on stage grabbing Lucy Gray's skirt.

"Don't touch me! After what you did, don't touch me." Lucy Gray orders him, kicking her foot to let him go of her skirt

"Y/n... Please, you're kind, you know you're all not the same without me." He moves to take Y/n's skirt now, "c'mon, make her see reason."

"Let go." Y/n tells him, she moves backwards but his grip makes her stumble and falls to the ground. Lucy Gray kneels to help her pull her skirt back.

A second later Billy Taupe is thrown to the side, making him lose his grip. The two girls look at the direction he was thrown, and they see that blonde man hitting him hard until another recruit stops him and takes him outside.

"Are you okay?" Lucy Gray asks, helping her friend to stand up.

"Yeah, yeah, all good." Y/n nods, "again, not the first time he acts like that."

"God.. I'm sorry.." the brunette says softly, picking up the guitar.

"Not your fault. Only his." She sighs, "I'm kinda glad your mentor was here, he was the only one to help."

" yeah, glad..."

"Is everything okay?" Y/n worries.

"Yeah, it's just weird seeing him here." Lucy Gray dismisses the question easily, "let's go home, c'mon"

"Okay.." Y/n isn't convinced, but decides to let it go for now, "c'mon ladies and gentlemen, let's get home."

"Wanna go practice some songs on the meadow, tomorrow?" Lucy Gray asks as they walk back home.

"I missed it so much, so of course!" Y/n cheerfully replies, earning a just as excited laugh from her friend.

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

Lucy Gray and Y/n played all afternoon in the meadow, like old times. It wasn't that long Lucy Gray stayed in the Capitol, but not knowing if she were to come back at all made it feel so much longer.

"I think this part should be a little slower, what do you think?" Y/n would ask after a while of playing 'The Hanging Tree'.

"This last part of the verse, you mean?" Lucy Gray checks, looking at the music sheets.

"Yeah, I think..."

Their heads snap behind them when they hear footsteps nearing.

"Sorry... we..." the same blonde man from the night before speaks, along a dark haired man, "they say we would find you out here."

"You're here... with that uniform.." Lucy Gray nervously chuckles.

"I thought they killed you." He simply says.

"Killed?" Y/n can't help the question.

"He... uhm.." his friend starts.

"I broke the rule to save her life." He answers, faking humbleness.

"The dean... Highbottom, got me on a train and gave me some money. He said you were sent to 8." Lucy Gray is quite confused.

"Change of plans." He would smile, "I'm Coriolanus Snow, by the way." He moves closer extending his hand for Y/n to take.

"She's Y/n, my best friend I told you about." Lucy Gray introduces her.

"Hi.." she shyly greets, taking his hand. She can't help the surprised "Oh..." When he, instead of shaking her hand, kisses the back of it.

"Nice to properly meet you, she talked a lot about you." Coriolanus charmingly smiles, "this is my friend, Sejanus."

"Nice to meet you," Lucy Gray shakes his hand with a bright smile.

"Nice to meet... you... too." Sejanus greets back with a sweet and kind smile.

They look at each other for a moment, just smiling. Y/n never saw he friend smiling like this with someone, she is so focused on her friend that she didn't notice Coriolanus still holding her hand, still looking at her.

"Oh sorry." Y/n finally takes notice of his hand and takes her own back, missing the pout forming on Coriolanus' face.

"All good." He whispers, "we quite enjoy the show yesterday."

"Oh.. yeah, yeah, yeah, it was great... until that guy came in." Sejanus agrees, nervously looking at Lucy Gray.

"Yeah, Billy Taupe can't accept the fact that we manage without him." She replies, smugly.

"Well, he's lucky you got back" Y/n mutters, "thanks, by the way, for getting him off and... also, of course, for saving Lucy Gray." She looks up at Coriolanus.

"A pleasure, really. There's no need to thank me." He replies, hitching to hold her hand again, to hold her to him and never let go, "anything for you."

At that Y/n takes a small step back, feeling a little nervous under his stare.

"We're going to the lake, tomorrow. Do you guys want to join?" Lucy Gray suddenly asks, surprising her best friend.

"Really?" Sejanus checks in, looking at the girls, "we'd like to."

"Of course, a way of thanking you." She assures him, "we usually go and have a sort of picnic."

"We'll look forward to it." Coriolanus too agrees.

"Yeah, it would be nice." Y/n wraps her arms around herself, to shield herself from his eyes.

"She makes an amazing apple cobbler too, the young ones loves it." The brunette praise her best friend, locking their arms together.

"You cook too?" Coriolanus is surprised, pleased, "you didn't tell me."

"She can do a lot of things, a real walking talent." Lucy Gray smiles proudly at her friend, nudging her side. Y/n's cheeks warm up at the compliments, turning her head to look away from them all.

"Always so shy, aren't you?" Coriolanus softly comments.

"She's never been the best with compliments." Lucy Gray softly chuckles, squeezing her friend's arm, "but she deserves them all."

"I'm sure she does." His soft stare makes Y/n shiver, she doesn't know why but she's intimidated by it.

"Uh..." she would start, but her eyes catch something behind the two men, "Maude Ivory." Lucy Gray follows her eyes to the little girl.

"You're friends peacekeepers." She says.

"They must be here for the fight." Y/n guesses, "I'll go handle it."

"I'm coming with you."

"Get the guitar, then." She instructs and Lucy Gray grabs the guitar.

"Hey.. we can't be seen with you, though." Coriolanus quietly tells them.

"That lake is in the woods, no one knows much about it but us, don't worry." Lucy Gray reassures him.

"That's comforting." Sejanus smiles grateful at her and she returns it.

"See you tomorrow then." Coriolanus says looking at Y/n who simply evades his stare, she politely smiles, but that doesn't stop Coriolanus from dreaming about her that night. How right their hands felt together, how beautiful she is so close... he can't wait for the next day.

He feels somehow grateful for Sejanus presence, he's sure Lucy Gray invited them both because she's interested in him. He remembers the little glances she would send his classmate at the Capitol. He will use it to his advantage, he knows how much Sejanus would love to help him get the girl of his dreams, he just needs a little push.

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

Y/n is making a new dough for the next day, while they're at the lake it will have time to raise. She's mostly making it to get her mind busy, to sort of preparing herself for the day at the lake with the two peacekeepers.

"Are you okay?" Lucy Gray cautiously asks, walking next to her.

"Whatever do you mean?" Y/n asks back, not glancing once at her friend.

"Mh... you're using that tone, for one." Lucy Gray nudges her, "and... you're kneading that dough as if you're chocking it. I'm pretty sure it's dead."

Y/n doesn't answer right away, she keeps kneading the dough, when she puts it in a bowl she turns to her friend.

"I'm okay." She finally says.

"Something bothering you." The singer gently takes her hand, guiding Y/n to sit with her at the table.

"Are the others sleeping?" Y/n asks, wiping her hands on a towel.

"Yeah, now tell me what's wrong." She softly urges her, "is it about tomorrow? Are you nervous or something?"

"I guess..."

"Why?" Lucy Gray asks, "do you fancy my mentor?" She tries to joke and teases her.

"No." She quickly answers, "no, really, I... it's like there's something off about him... I don't know, maybe it's just me."

Y/n lets out a heavy sigh and looks at Lucy Gray, who looks conflicted herself.

"I... uhm.." she starts, uncertain.

"What..?"

"I felt the same way when I met him... he would ask so many question about you, our life here you know, I could see he wanted to know more and more about you." She explains.

"Me? Why?" Y/n gets even more nervous.

"I think he saw you at the reaping ceremony, when you sang and... I don't know, you caught his attention."

"Oh..."

"We can cancel... or you can stay in, I don't want you to feel forced to go because I didn't think." Lucy Gray takes her hands again, reassuringly.

"No, it's okay... I mean maybe we're just looking too much into it..." Y/n shakes her head, "I kind of want to see if you and the other one move to the next step."

"You noticed.." she blushes slightly.

"You two where smiling at each other like crazy." Y/n smiles sweetly at her friend.

"He's sweet, I saw how he wanted to help the tributes during the games... but please, we don't have to go if you're uncomfortable." She checks.

"I'm fine, I promise." Y/n kisses her hands to assure her, "maybe it's just a misunderstanding. It'll be fine."

"Oh now you're comforting me?" Lucy Gray teases.

"Obviously." She smiles proudly, "how about you... how are you coping with... with the games?"

Lucy Gray's smile drops slightly, looking down at their hands, squeezing them a little tighter, scared she would be taken away again.

"I'm okay... sometimes I feel like I'm still there." Her eyes fill with tears at the memories, "I killed people, Y/n... I..."

"You can't just shake it off, right?" Y/n guesses and Lucy Gray nods without saying a word, "I won't say that I'll understand, I will try sure, I can't promise I will be able to of course, but... I'm with you, Lucy Gray, you're not alone, I won't let you deal with it alone."

Lucy Gray stands, and so does Y/n, she brings her into a warm hug. They hold each other like never before, they hugged in the past sure, but nothing like this. This hug is filled with comfort and safety, something they both need, they don't even want it to end in fear one of them could be taken away again.

"We should get some sleep." Y/n states with a chuckle, but doesn't break the hug.

"Yeah." Lucy Gray laughs, "I think we should." They pull apart, "Sorry, I really needed that."

"So did I."

With that little comfort from each other they can finally go to bed and get some sleep. Even though, Y/n can't really fall asleep so quickly, her mind constantly going to Coriolanus Snow and his eyes, his stare on her. Could it be possible that they're just imagining it or it's true?

She close her eyes for a second and the moment she opens them the first light of day greets her, making her groan.

"Fuck." She mutters out, uncovering herself and getting seated, not so ready to start the day.

"Morning." Lucy Gray's harsh morning voice greets Y/n in the kitchen as she prepares the basket for the picnic, "Did you get some sleep?"

"I did, do not worry." Y/n replies, "just... uh..."

"What?"

"Don't leave me alone with him, okay?"

Once Lucy Gray nods, Y/n gets back at the basket.

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

"This time of the year the water is just perfect." Maude Ivory excitedly jumps towards the lake.

"She loves the lake, if you can't tell." Y/n jokes.

"I wouldn't blame her," Sejanus says, "I'll trust her judgement, then."

"You should!" The little girl tells him, loud.

"Are you sure you don't need help?" Coriolanus offers to carry the basket for the tenth time, "I promise it's no trouble."

"And I promise it's fine, thank you." Y/n, once again, denies his help.

Coriolanus can't help the clenching in his jaw, his girl should never, ever, lift a finger. He'll make sure of it.

"We're almost there, anyway. No worries." She tries to chuckle and assure him.

"She's strong." Lucy Gray chimes in, "she never lets me do any heavy work around the house. It's crazy."

"No, well, that's because you're not the best at them." Y/n teases her.

"That's not true!" Lucy Gray laughs, "I got many talents."

"You do... not for handwork."

Lucy Gray gasps, faking offence, while the rest of the group laugh.

"How long have you been friends for?" Sejanus asks, "if I'm not intruding."

"We're basically sisters," Lucy Gray immediately answers, proudly, "our parents died and we got raised by the same person."

"I arrived after them, but everything fell into places so naturally, it felt like I found my family again." Y/n explains, with a big smile.

"Never left each other's side ever since." Lucy Gray takes her best friend's hand as they finally arrive at destination.

"We're here!" CC exclaims and Maude Ivory rushes to get into the water as soon as possible, making Y/n chuckle.

Coriolanus watches her closely, the way she worries about her family, the way she smiles, laughs and shines when she looks at the young ones. The more time he's in her presence, the more he falls in love with her, his desire to make her his growing each moment. His girl, his wife and, one day soon, his first Lady.

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

A day at the lake with her family is something Y/n always treasured, and will always treasure. She usually takes a few minutes to herself to enjoy the water, just floating with her eyes closed, she loves how free the stream lets her be.

The Covey always lets her live her peace... at least until it's time to eat, in that moment they would splash her until she gets to shore, earning, everytime, a glare from the poor girl.

And today should be no different, Y/n and Lucy Gray agreed not to make the others suspect their new friend makes them feel a little uneasy. So as Y/n floats on her own, Lucy Gray will try and keep an eye out to let her alone with her former mentor.

"What's she doing?" Coriolanus asks.

"Oh she likes to feel the water on her own." Lucy Gray explains, while Sejanus play with Maude Ivory, "to enjoy the moment."

"Wouldn't she be carried away by the stream?" He wonders.

"Nah, it's like the water knows where she should be."

"That's beautiful, Lucy Gray." Sejanus comments.

"Not my words." She is quick to specify, "hers."

Coriolanus spent the rest of the bath watching her, purposely ignoring his former tribute's stare. She probably wants to protect her friend, he thinks, but he's the only one who can protect her. And that he will.

"I'm starving!" Maude Ivory exclaims getting out the water towards the picnic blanket, "c'mon!"

Almost in an instant the rest of the Covey follows, apart from Lucy Gray who stays with Sejanus and Coriolanus, and Y/n floating not far.

Coriolanus shots his friend a look to tell him to get Lucy Gray away so he could have some time alone with his girl.

"I..." Sejanus stutters out, "I... I brought something. I know you two cooked for us too, so I wanted to bring something as a thanks... for the invite."

"Aaww but that's very sweet of you. You didn't need to." Lucy Gray almost melts at his words.

"I can show you. I mean they're preparing to eat so might as well help them." Sejanus suggests.

"Oh... uh... I mean..." she is hesitant, looking briefly at Coriolanus and at her friend.

"Coriolanus is here to look out for her, don't worry." Sejanus reassures her, but he doesn't know that his friend is the reason she needs to keep an eye out for Y/n.

Unfortunately, she knows she can't refuse, not without raising questions from her family nor suspects from the two peacekeepers.

"Yeah... Okay." She finally says, "but I mean, you don't have to, she's always does that. You can come with us."

"I don't mind." He's quick to reply, "I too enjoy the waters myself."

"See? No troubles at all." Sejanus smiles at her.

"We will call you soon, anyway." Lucy Gray tells him, she means it as a warning, even though Coriolanus doesn't register it that way.

"We'll be here." He smiles charmingly as always as he looks at the two climbing on the wooden deck and towards the Covey. She still watches over her friend.

As Coriolanus finally can enjoy the view he can notice her floating gently towards him.

'The water knows where she should be' Lucy Gray said, and the water is bringing her to him.

Y/n felt something touching her hand slightly, startling her.

"Oh sorry." She starts to apologise, but freezes when she sees Coriolanus in front of her.

"No need to apologise." He softly says.

"Where's everyone?" She asks.

"Preparing for the picnic." He tells her, secretly enjoy how her eyes don't meet his.

"Oh... I guess.. uh... I guess we should join them, then." She nervously chuckles, wanting more and more to not be alone with the Peacekeeper.

"Did you enjoy the water?" He asks, ignoring her suggestion.

"I... I did." She answers, "I love days like this."

With each word she slowly swims to the deck.

"I've never done this, you know." He says swimming closer.

"You don't have lakes at the Capitol?" She chuckles, again to hid her nerves.

"There's no room for nature." He simply says.

"Oh... that's... sad." She comments, feeling genuinely sad about that, "hope you're having a good day then, Mr Snow."

"Please, Coriolanus is more than fine, or Coryo... if you like." He tells her with a charming smile, internally begging her to say his name.

"Well, I hope you're having a good day, then, C-Coryo." She forces herself to smile, slightly letting out a sigh of relief when she realises she got to the wooden deck.

"The best in a long time." He catch up with her, ready to chivalrously help her climb up.

Y/n tries to be as quick as she can, but in doing so her foot slipped and she falls back into the water... in Coriolanus' arms.

"Shit..." she curses under her breath.

"You okay?" Coriolanus immediately asks, concerned.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I... I slipped." She tries to subtly wiggle out of his arms. While what Coriolanus wants more is to hold her even closer. "We should... uhm... get to the picnic or.. or they w-will eat everything."

"Yeah..." Coriolanus eyes constantly switch from her eyes to her lips, "probably."

He doesn't move an inch though, his eyes keeping the same route, but moving his face closer to hers.

Y/n is cornered, she wants to freak out, but he's still a Peacekeeper, who knows what he could do if she rejected him badly.

"Uhm..." she tries to come up with something to say to get out of the situation.

He's living his dream, in the meantime, he's so close to kissing his girl for the first time he wants to enjoy every second of it. His hands find their way to her waist, caressing it.

Y/n shakes, she wants to run, hit him and run away. Coriolanus interprets the shaking as shyness, he's sure she feels the same, he thinks her shaking is only in anticipation of the kiss.

So he leans closer... and closer...

"Guys!" Lucy Gray's voice saves her, "it's all set!"

"We're coming!" Y/n shouts back immediately, turning away from Coriolanus as she feels his grasp tightening slightly.

Y/n manages to climb back up and misses the frustrated clenching in Coriolanus' jaw.

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

They sit on the blankets they brought as they eat, Y/n managed to take a seat in between CC and Maude Ivory, away from the peacekeeper. Lucy Gray, on the other hand, sits next to Sejanus which earned a teasing smile from her friend, Coriolanus sits next to him as they everyone eats.

"You weren't lying, this is amazing." Sejanus exclaims, mouth full of Y/n's dessert.

"You're being too kind now." Y/n can only shy away from the compliment.

"Told you, she's always underestimate herself." Lucy Gray low-kye scold her friend.

"True!" CC agrees, earning a glare from Y/n.

"It really is amazing." Coriolanus chimes in, "where did you learn?"

"Oh... well, when you have to feed all these mouths, that's what you have to do." Y/n explains, "and there were times where one didn't want to eat, when they were younger and didn't fully understand the situation, so I tried my best in making something tasty with what we had."

"Well, I didn't learn." Lucy Gray tries to highlight her friend's talent.

"That's because you were earning money with your guitar and performances." Y/n replies.

"Even that, not without your help." The singer insists.

"Mine?" Y/n laughs, "what help? You're the one singing beautifully everyday."

Coriolanus assist this playful banter and can't help the jealousy raising in him. He wants Y/n to joke with him like that, not with Lucy Gray. He wants to make her blush with compliments, not Sejanus.

"But you write the songs!" Lucy Gray exclaims, with a big smile.

"Not all of them!" Y/n laughs.

"The most beautiful ones, yes." Lucy Gray shots back.

"Oh shut up!" Y/n throws her friend a piece of bread.

"Did we hear any of these songs?" Coriolanus asks, curious.

"I think so," Lucy Gray answers, "plus the one I sang in the arena it's hers."

"Which one?"

"You didn't watch the games?" Sejanus asks.

"No, I did, I did, it's just that the TV we borrowed was a little broken so we couldn't hear anything." CC answers.

"Pity..." Sejanus comments, "she sang beautifully."

"Not a surprise." Y/n smiles, "so, what song was it?"

"The old Therebefore." Lucy Gray tells her, "you know it always gives me strength."

"That was yours?" Coriolanus asks, positively surprised.

"Uh.. yeah, though, I simply rearranged an old melody." Y/n explains, shaking her head dismissively.

"Told you, walking talent." Lucy Gray grins and Y/n throws another piece of bread at her.

Coriolanus is amazed, she will be a perfect first Lady, the people of Panem will love her. He's more and more realising what a perfect choice she will be.

Y/n rolls her eyes, giving up, earning a triumphant smile from Lucy Gray.

"It made all people in the auditorium cry." Coriolanus tells them, "a real moving moment."

"At least I would've gotten one last good performance before my demise." Lucy Gray says dramatically.

"Don't say that." Y/n immediately stops her, "you're here. That's all that matters."

They reach out at the same time to hold each other's hand, Sejanus looks at them with sweet eyes, Coriolanus only feels jealousy, eyes shooting daggers at Lucy Gray.

Unfortunately the things between Sejanus and Lucy Gray have been going strong. She is so in love, Y/n's never seen her so taken by someone like she is by Sejanus. The down side of her happiness is that the peacekeeper always brings his friend around. Coriolanus, in fact, insisted and convinced Sejanus to bring him everytime he visited Lucy Gray, and Sejanus, being the good friend he is, he was glad to help his best friend. They even managed to leave Coriolanus and Y/n alone, Lucy Gray too distracted by Sejanus to notice the deception. Y/n doesn't want her to notice anyway, she's happy her friend found someone she actually like, so she's going to endure a little longer for her, Lucy Gray deserves some happiness after all the horrors she saw.

That's why Y/n's now cooking in their kitchen, with Coriolanus watching her like a hawk.

"What are you making exactly?" He asks from his spot by the small table.

"It's... a apple c-cobbler." Y/n softly answers. He would listen to her soft voice all day if he could, saying his name, begging him.

"Do you need any help?" He offers, "you know I don't mind."

She hears him standing up and walking closer to her.

"It's okay, you don't ha-" she stops mid-sentence, Coriolanus' hands softly caressing her hips froze her.

"I don't mind." He whispers into her ear, thumb striking the clothed spot.

"No... uh... i-it's o-okay... uh..." she stutters, looking around for a way to get away.

"Or maybe... " he spins her around so he's looking directly into her eyes, "we can adress... this." He motions between them, getting even closer, bodies now against one another.

"Uh..?" Y/n is confused.

"Us." Coriolanus specifies, "I don't think we can ignore it any longer."

"Uh... I don't... know..." she's at loss for words, "what..?"

"I'm pretty sure, my interest is pretty obvious." He says this almost shyly, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek, "and... I think yours is too."

"My... interest?"She shakes her head, putting her hands on his arms to try and push him off, "Coriolanus..."

"I love it when you use my name, Y/n." Coriolanus says, leaning closer, ignoring how she avoids his eyes and pushes him away.

"Just..."

"Y/n!!"

"Shit.." he mutters under his breath.

"Where are you?" Lucy Gray asks.

"In the kitchen." Y/n answers, relieved Coriolanus stepped back.

"There you are." She enters the kitchen and immediately hugs her friend, Sejanus close behind her.

"Hi." He timidly says, then notices Coriolanus by the table, "hey Coryo, didn't expect to see tou here today."

There's tension between them, Lucy Gray turns her head to look at the blonde and her face drops.

"Is everything okay, Lucy Gray?" Y/n puts a hand on her friend's shoulder, reassuringly.

"Yeah, of course." She shakes her head and smiles brightly again, "what are you making?" She changes subject.

"Uh... apple cobbler." Y/n says softly.

"Mmmhh can't wait." She hums.

There's something off about this situation, since last night's performance at the Hob all three of them have been behaving weirdly. Lucy Gray was singing and after the song she went after Sejanus and Coriolanus, she was goon for some time and when she got back something in her eyes was off. She tried to wave it off, but Y/n knew her friend and she was sure something happened. Why Lucy Gray didn't want to talk to her only added to her worries.

Unfortunately the worst was yet to come.

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

"What do you mean you have to leave?" Y/n asks, getting more and more agitated.

"Mayfair and Billy Taupe are dead, who do you think will be blamed?" Lucy Gray snaps back as she keeps packing a small bag.

"But you didn't! How could they prove otherwise?" Y/n insists, breathing heavily.

"The mayor will surely find a way." Her friend days bitterly, then turn to look at her in the eyes, "listen, I'll be fine. This is the only way."

"How will you go, uh?" Y/n challenges, "alone in the woods."

"I... Coriolanus said he would help." Lucy Gray answers, emotionless.

"Coriolanus?!" Y/n whisper-shouts, "do you trust him?"

"I don't have much of a choice. I told you what happened, he's involved too. That has to do." The brunette sighs deeply, "you all can join me in time. I wish you could come too now, but-"

"It will draw too much attention and we would be too easy to find." Y/n finishes her sentence, "I know... but Snow?"

"I told you, he's involved too... he's the only option. Plus... I don't have anything to keep me here anymore.."

Y/n sighs, giving up, she knows Lucy Gray is still grieving Sejanus. She walks to her friend, stopping her to hug her. Lucy Gray returns the hug immediately, crying on her friend's shoulder. Y/n, then, holds her tighter, stroking her back reassuringly.

"We'll be okay. And we will join you soon." Y/n whispers. "I promise."

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

It's been almost a year since Lucy Gray ran away, a year since Y/n saw her friend. She hopes Lucy Gray is fine, moat importantly she hopes her friend is alive. It was hard to explain the situation to the rest of the Covey, especially the youngest one, but she managed.

A good thing about this situation is that it's also been a year since Coriolanus Snow has been seen in district 12. Rumours has it he got back to the Capitol, Y/n wishes, whatever is the truth, that he stays as far away as possible. One of their last interactions scared her so much she hardly left the house in fear of simply seeing him.

Y/n is walking back home with her basket in hand, she sold all the jewellery and cakes she made to earn some money so she was quite content as she enters the house.

"Is anyone home?" Y/n yells as she puts down the basket and takes off her patched-up coat.

"In here." A voice calls from the kitchen and Y/n is quick to walk there, freezing on the spot when the figure of Coriolanus Snow stands in her kitchen. His hair grew in this time apparently, the new haircut makes him look even more dangerous, "Hi, my love."

"Uh..." Y/n doesn't know what to do, having him in the house after all this time feels worse than a robe around her neck, "what... what are you doing here?"

"You don't seem happy." Coriolanus states, confused.

He spent a year thinking about Y/n, working hard and constantly so he could come back to 12 and take her to the Capitol. He's been thinking about her, analysing each of their interactions to the bone. And he realised something: Y/n is yet to realise the love they're destined to share, but Coriolanus is more than willing to help.

"I... I'm confused... why... why are you here? Is Lucy Gray-"

"I don't want to talk about Lucy Gray!" He snaps.

Y/n flinches and takes a step back, he sighs deeply and pass a hand through his hair.

"I'm... I'm sorry..." she apologises, not wanting to anger him more, "you... uh... you let your hair grow..."

That seems to please him, he slightly smiles, pride growing in him.

"Yeah," he walks closer to her, "I wanted to leave the Peacekeeper behind, to welcome the future president of Panem."

"Future president..." she gasps out, slowly retreating backwards, "wow.."

"You're even more beautiful than I remembered." He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, "I missed you."

"Why are you here?" She asks, pushing his hand away.

"I'm here to take you to the Capitol with me." He simply answers, as a matter of fact.

"What?!" She exclaims, pushing him off and putting distance between them.

"You're coming home with me." He states.

"I am home." She firmly says, noticing the clench in his jaw.

"No." He shakes his head, "no, you're not."

"I'm not coming with you." She insists, "I have people to take care of."

"They will be taken care of, if you come with me." He makes sure to emphasise the 'if'.

Y/n now realises no one else's home.

"If? Coriolanus, listen-"

"No, you listen." He interrupts her once again, "there's no thinking to do here. You're coming with me, period. You come with me and your family will be cared for, if you don't... there would be consequences."

"Is that a threat?" She shakes in fear now.

"It's a promise, my love." He gets closer again, putting a hand on her cheek, "so... what do you say now?"

"You already decided... what's the point of asking, then?" She's tearing up, too scared to move.

"Say you'll come with me." He leans closer, brushing his lips against hers, "say it."

She shakes her head, lips sealed.

But Coriolanus doesn't waste any more time, he kisses her, she backs away but he chases her until her back hits the wall forcing their lips together once again.

He kisses her, but she doesn't kiss him back, the hand on her cheek moves to her neck squeezing, as a warning. She tries to push him off, but he is stronger than her, his other hand moves to her hips pulling her closer and she starts to actually struggle.

"S-stop." She manages to stutter out.

"Give into me, my love." He mutters against her skin, kissing down her neck, "come with me, you'll want for nothing more in your life."

"No..." she weakly says, as she keeps pushing him off.

"Yes." He kisses her again, completely leaning his body against her, caging her.

"Please don't... Please." Her crying only turns him on more, he thrusts his hips against her making her feel his hard-on.

Y/n stops her movement, dread in her veins prevents her from doing anything.

"Sshh, let me take care of you." He whispers into her ear, "let me show you how good I can make you feel."

"Please... no..." her breathing gets heavier and heavier as she looks at him kneeling in front of her, "Don't."

She looks at the door, wanting to flee and leave him behind.

"Don't you dare." Coriolanus orders, looking up at her, "you try to run and I'll make sure your family pays. Am I clear, my love?"

Y/n averts her eyes from the door, to the former peacekeeper kneeling in front of her.

The hunger in his eyes is enough to make her feel like a prey being caught.

He keeps looking at her as he lifts her dress up her legs, and when he pulls her underwear down he finally break the eye contact to take a proper look at his prize.

He licks his lips and gets closer to her core, inhaling her scent.

"Stop... please Coriolanus, stop." She tries again, but her plead falls to deaf ears.

Coriolanus at hearing his name coming from her he dives himself between her legs, licking and sucking all he could, finally enjoy whatever he's been dreaming about all this time... since that reaping ceremony.

Y/n gasps when he attacks her pussy with his mouth like a starved man, she looks around hoping to find something to use as a weapon or a way to escape this. She puts her hand on his head in an attempt to push him off, but it's no use, his hold is way too tight and strong for her to pull away.

"Mmhhh" he humms against her, her taste inebriates him completely.

"Shit.." she groans, her body betraying her, getting closer and closer, "shit."

Hearing this Coriolanus only doubles his efforts, he blindly grabs one of her hands and moves it to rest on his cheek.

"Mmhhh yes." He humms again, licking harder on her clit.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She tries to hold back, but it's like she has no control over her body anymore as she comes on his mouth. Her legs weakening and falling to the ground, right in front Coriolanus, face to face.

"I love you." He whispers, catching her off guard by kissing her deeply and forcefully.

She puts her hands against him, never stopping her attempts.

"Stop, stop." She mutters.

"This is just a taste of how I'm going to take care of you." He explains breathlessly, "I'm never letting you go, my love."

They stay still for a moment, Y/n too scared to move and Coriolanus is simply enjoying the moment.

He finally got his girl, but he's always being certain of it, after all it's in his family.

Snow lands on top.

[gravity-barbie]

There's only one bed HCs

Featuring: Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Viktor, Lila, Sparrow!Ben & Sloane

A/N: This isn’t a request, I just had to post the fluffiest prompt I could after s4. Also, the umbrella’s characterisation in this is very s1 inspired.

Masterlist

Luther Hargreeves

-Luther is immediately very flustered, you’d think he just stumbled out of the middle ages with how concerned about propriety he is in this situation, and he can barely form a coherent sentence

-He offers to take the floor, but if you do the same and/or insist on sharing he’ll quickly compromise on the latter if for no other reason than not wanting to disagree with you, but that decision has his heart racing a mile a minute

-He feels very self-conscious about taking up most of the bed, so any reassurance from you that you’re comfortable, or better yet, like his closeness absolutely melts him

-He stays half awake all night, too afraid of doing something embarrassing in his sleep to get any proper rest, but his contentment to just enjoy your nearness still makes it one of the best nights of his life

-Since he was already awake (and he’s a total sweetheart) he gets up early to scavenge you two up a breakfast in the morning, enjoying this slice of domesticity with you a little longer

Diego Hargreeves

-Diego says he’ll take the floor, but if you even slightly question that choice he gets embarrassed and defensive, suggesting you two share the bed just to prove that he ‘doesn’t care’

-Obviously he does care, outwardly he keeps his cool, but on the inside he’s swarming with butterflies like he’s a teenager

-As much as he tries to appear aloof, he’s actually being so considerate, checking if you’re comfortable more than once and making sure he isn’t touching you at all

-He’s not the easiest sleeper, tense and alert, and at first lying next to his crush doesn’t exactly help, but as the two of you talk and banter a little, the tension starts to defuse and he actually finds your presence very soothing

-He’s the type to get cuddly in his sleep, much to his shame and annoyance in the morning, he doesn’t let himself enjoy the amazing feeling of holding you in his arms for even a full minute before he’s scrambling back to his side of the bed and pretending to be asleep

Allison Hargreeves

-Allison can be a grown up about this, there’s only one bed, why wouldn’t you share it? She’s not indifferent but she doesn’t overanalyse the situation either

-She gladly embraces the domesticity of the scenario though, drawing out her nightly routine, and getting chattier than usual, trying to savor this experience that she’s wanted for so long

-She’s also trying to make sure you feel at ease too, figuring if you do feel awkward, that’ll fade as the two of you talk and unwind

-She is prone to nightmares, so don’t be surprised if you’re startled awake in the middle of the night and put in the unenviable position of trying to ease her, but she for one is very glad that it’s you she wakes up to

-Speaking of waking up, sunrise is the peak of this experience for her, feeling yours and her tangled limbs, seeing how peaceful you look while you sleep, it's the kind of moment she understands the importance of cherishing

Klaus Hargreeves

-Klaus suggests sharing, he’s slept under way more awkward circumstances next to people he’s felt way more uncomfortable around, it’s really no big deal

-He has to remind himself to keep his thoughts PG a couple of times and can’t get through the night without making at least one innuendo but overall he is respectful and won't likely make you uncomfortable

-Though he can keep his thoughts clean it's harder to keep them platonic, the longing he feels being so close to you is nearly overwhelming and he wishes so badly that the context was different

-With you by his side he sleeps more peacefully than he has in… ever, it actually kind of amazes him

-He's in no rush to leave your side in the morning, the sleep clouding his brain making him all too willing to forget his reservations and cuddle up to you for as long as you'll have him

Viktor Hargreeves

-Ever the gentleman, Viktor immediately offers to take the floor, but he feels quite heart-warmed by you insisting on sharing

-Even platonically the intimacy of sharing a bed means so much to someone as affectionate starved as him, but with the added context of you being his crush this experience feels like a mini miracle

-He's pretty nervous though, triple checking that you're okay with this and minimizing his own space as much as possible when he gets into bed

-He relaxes with some reassurance and the two of you quickly get comfortable, starting up a random conversation that's meant to segway into sleep but could keep you talking all night if you're not careful

-As opposed to the anxious start to the night, waking up next to each other feels like the most natural thing in the world

Lila Pitts

-Lila's thrilled, she doesn’t immediately suggest sharing but she makes it clear she’s not sleeping on the floor and is all too happy to accommodate you if you won't either

-If you do try to give her the bed and take the floor though she stops playing coy and basically tells you to grow up and share with her, insisting it’s no big deal

-But to her it is a big deal, honestly she can't believe she didn't plan this herself it's that perfect, she can barely fight back an unending smile

-Though keeping things sfw she does lay the flirting on thicker than usual and pays close attention to how you react to that and the situation you're in throughout the night

-As bold as she is she isn't actually used to this kind of closeness and the intimacy of sleeping next to her crush does start making her slightly nervous, but luckily your presence has a way of making her feel better

Ben Hargreeves

-Ben’s not exactly a go with the flow type, if you’re put in a position where there’s meant to be two beds and there’s only one, he’s gonna try to get his other bed

-Ands it’s only after all his demands fall on deaf ears that he even registers the implications of sharing the one, nervousness quickly sets in but he tries not to show it, avoiding looking at you and giving his usual sass

-He does offer you the bed, sounding more begrudging than he actually is, it’s actually his preferred solution, cause as spoiled as he acts he could never sleep comfortably at your expense

-But of course you insist on sharing and as soon as he’s laying next to you, he confirms what a bad idea this was, he’s just as flustered as he feared he would be, maybe more so

-He pretends to fall asleep as soon as possible so you won’t catch on to how he’s feeling, but actually he’s awake and on edge for hours

Sloane Hargreeves

-Sloane has encountered this scenario in more than one romance novel before, so her brain just goes wild with the possibilities

-You’re the one to suggest sharing the bed, and it absolutely melts her heart, it's sweet and it's a relief to know you're comfortable being this close to her

-She always has a hard time hiding her crush on you, but she’s never been so flustered before, the butterflies in her stomach verge on painful

-But she's also giddy and her contagious enthusiasm guarantees the two of you will have a good night, your energy is half 'slumber party' and half 'married couple's nightly routine'

-The experience is wonderful for not just Sloane but you as well, because even if you didn't have a crush on her before, spending a night with her surely makes you realize you want to spend many more with her

[sweet-as-an-angel]

König x Petite Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Non-Explicit Implications of Sexual Content, Petite Reader, Size Kink, Jealous König, Insecure König, Implied 141 x Reader, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

A/N: Forgot that I'd already written this once before, so here we are with more König x Petite Reader Headcanons ! Just see this as some extra content for our beloved König and his smol s/o <3

When it comes to you, this man is F E R A L

Genuinely cannot believe how perfect you are.

Constantly jokes about how he could fit you in the palm of his hand.

And once, to shut him up, you proved him right by sitting on his open hand when he wasn’t expecting it and gave him a smug look.

“There,” you said, folding your arms over your chest. “You can fit me in your palm.”

König tried not to think of how close he was to your special parts, how warm you felt on him.

He had to disappear to the bathroom for a few minutes afterwards, and when he returned, his face was flushed and he could barely look you in the eye.

He’s never been the same after that. Any trace of a size kink he had before has been amplified to such an extent that he’s taken to hiding your clothes so you’ll have to wear his.

And he just can’t keep his hands off you whenever you do.

“My my, Engel,” he says, one hand sliding around your waist and pulling you closer to him, the other drawing the hem of his shirt further and further up your thighs.

“What could you be hiding under here ?”

Calls you his Mini Maus.

“Because you’re just so tiny and precious !” he gushes.

And since you’re so small compared to him, he treats you as if you’re fragile, like an endangered species of flower.

Concerning intimacy at the beginning of your relationship, König was concerned that he was too big for you.

But, when you put his mind at ease (and challenge him) – “I bet I can take you, Köni~” – you’re in for it.

König’s fighting spirit won’t let you off easy.

When he’s feeling more dominant, he bunches your wrists into one of his hands while he sits on top of you, his other hand slipping beneath your (his) shirt and slithering round the band of your underwear.

“Pretty little thing,” he says, a dangerous smile at his lips. “All weak and defenseless.” He leans down, his eyes dark and wild. “Just for me.”

If you try to struggle (consensually), he’ll smack you through your underwear. And not gently, either.

“Don’t test me, Mini,” he says, his grip about your wrists tightening. “You don’t know what I’m like when I’m angry.”

He loooooves fitting his hands around your waist.

Especially when he finds that his hands wrap around your middle and his fingers touch.

Size kink: upgraded.

He gets lowkey jealous if you ask someone else to reach something for you.

Will sulk about it.

“I just don’t see why you had to ask Ghost to get it for you,” he’ll say, frowning as he lies in bed.

You sigh, putting your book down.

“König, you weren’t even here !” you say. “And I was starving !”

König knows he’s being unreasonable, but he can’t help but feel like he can be easily replaced.

Especially when he knows the rest of the 141 would gladly drop everything to be with you.

He’s not stupid, he’s seen the way they look at you.

A few minutes alone together and a kind word – “You’re so perfect, Köni~ My big, big boy,” – will set him straight.

Loves showing you off to his friends. His acquaintances aren’t safe, either.

He’ll stand you before him and show you off to his associates like: ”Look, this is my partner ! Aren’t they beautiful ?!”

So help him god if anyone tries to show you up or disagree.

You’ll never see them again.

And neither will anyone else.

König loves you more than life itself, and regardless of his insecurities or your unwavering ability to have anyone you could ever want, he’s glad you chose him <3

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[iateyourparents]

hide and seek | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: you’re scared and colby doesn’t want to loose a game of hide and seek.

warnings: haunted place, use of y/n, bad writing and grammar (sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: the new video inspired me so ta da!! i changed few things so dw if something isn’t like in the video.

You could feel excitement raising in your chest while exiting Colby’s car in front of a gate of Geelong Goal Museum.

You read few articles about this place and you couldn’t wait to start investigating it.

You knew you would probably change your mind about being excited quickly when first interaction with something will happen but that’s something to worry about for later.

You, Colby and Sam made your way towards five boys already waiting for you next to gate with tour guide.

You all said your hello’s and tour guide guided you to place where Sam and Colby had first surprise for their guests. You already knew their plan and couldn’t wait for the boys’ reaction.

“Okay, so before we start investigating we have a surprise for you.” Sam stated looking at the boys.

“Already?” sighed Josh with fake annoyance.

“Yeah, we’re gonna play hide and seek in the Australia’s most haunted prison!” Colby said with excitement which made you giggle. Colby looked at you from behind a camera and send you a big smile before addressing boys and viewers.

“So Sam and I gonna rock paper scissors for who’s a seeker.” they did few tries before Colby won and decided that Sam will be a seeker.

You were glad because you already knew you wouldn’t be able to hide on your own here, you would be too scared.

“Alright, I’m gonna wait here and you have two minutes to hide.” Sam explained and you all nodded.

Colby caught your hand in his and started running which forced you to follow him. You gladly did that.

„Neither me or Y/n are loosing today guys.” Colby whispered to the camera while you two passed Narrator.

Unfortunately, Colby’s hiding place was already taken.

“Let’s go upstairs, to the gymnasium like room. It’s shouldn’t be obvious.” you offered and you could see smile on Colby’s face.

“Yeah, that’s good idea!” he kissed your head “My smart girl.”

You were sure you flushed at his compliment but you decided not to comment and just climbed upstairs.

Few seconds later you found perfect space to hide and you two settled in.

“Okay guys, we’re winning this.” you smiled at the camera “There’s literally no chance anyone could see us here.”

“Yeah, the only thing that could actually give us away is echo so we have to be really careful to not make any louder noises.” Colby added and you nodded.

Soon you could hear Sam talking to viewers while looking for everyone.

But that wasn’t the only thing you could hear.

There was footsteps like sound. And it wouldn’t be anything special if it wasn’t literally next where you two were seated, and where no one was standing.

Your eyes widened while looking at Colby, who also hearing the noise looked at you. You could feel the squeal wanting to get out of your throat in panic but you tried to fight it off. Colby definitely noticed your struggle and side hugged you while making quiet shh sounds into your ear and explaining situations to the camera.

“Don’t panic, I’m with you.” he said after he placed still working camera next to him. Colby started drawing circles on your back with his hand “It’s nothing. Probably something friendly.”

You were nodding into his chest while holding your hand to your mouth to make sure nothing comes out.

That was before next sound.

You could hear quite loud giggle in the same room and your mouth already opened as if to scream but Colby’s lips quickly found yours just before anything could come out, successfully silencing you.

“Sorry, baby, but I’m not loosing today. And I totally love shushing you this way.” Colby whispered into your lips after a kiss with a smirk. You giggled quietly almost forgetting all about the girl’s giggle.

“I don’t mind it either.” you confessed and took the camera from where it laid next to Colby’s legs “So I think camera caught the laugh.” you whispered “It was so creepy. Pray for us, or rather me, to come out of here alive and without a heart attack.” you smiled at Colby’s quiet laugh.

Apparently, kissing was excellent method of silencing you so Colby used next few weird sounds as a excuse to kiss you in case you were about to scream. You were sure that at least two of the sounds he ‘heard’ weren’t real and he just wanted to kiss you but you didn’t complained.

“And what was that for?” you asked after he randomly placed few pecks on your face “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Me neither.” he shrugged “Just wanted to kiss you.” he smirked placing another kiss on your nose.

You opened your mouth to respond but a voice interrupted you.

“Alright, Colby, Y/n! You won!” you heard Sam shouting and you stood up with big smiles on your faces. You quickly placed a kiss on Colby’s lips and you two went downstairs.

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠. (𝐡𝐜𝐬)

INCLUDES | keisuke baji, kazutora hanemiya, manjiro sano, shuji hanma

NOTE | This is really short, I'm sorry! I'm not sure how I feel about it either, but I hope it's not too bad.

— BAJI.

Pretty much everyone in Toman knows Baji has a soft spot for you. They never miss an opportunity to tease him about it, telling him to make the first move, to stop staring like a creep and just ask you out already.

...What they don't know is that you and Baji have been secretly dating for months now.

Though you decided to keep your relationship a secret mainly to keep each other safe and avoid being exposed to unnecessary danger, you both find amusement in keeping your friends in the dark about your relationship. It became like a fun little game between you and Baji, sharing playful glances and knowing smiles whenever the others would tease him about his supposed crush.

You're pretty sure Chifuyu knows the truth, though. There's always a knowing smirk on his face that suggests he might be onto your secret, but he plays along, giving you both a nod of approval whenever he catches the subtle displays of affection between the two of you.

If you eventually decide to make your relationship public, Baji will have a field day teasing his friends for not noticing sooner that you were dating. He won't miss the chance to brag about being the one who won the 'prettiest Toman member's heart, even poking fun at those who once had a crush on you.

— KAZUTORA

In the middle of all those men, it wasn't easy for you to find your place in Valhalla.

You often kept to yourself, feeling like you didn't really belong here. You had effortlessly managed to prove your strength and loyalty to the gang so everyone respected you and treated you as an equal — but it still felt weird to be surrounded with so many men, each more violent and intimidating than the other.

But with Kazutora, there was an instant connection that set him apart from the others.

Before you knew it, you were having secret meetings away from the prying eyes of the gang, and what began as just a friendship soon turned into something more.

Kazutora's affection towards you in public is subtle yet genuine. The two of you always make sure to stand away from each other during meetings and gatherings so as to not awake suspicions, but Kazutora quietly keeps an eye on you from a distance, checking up on you without drawing attention to your connection.

During fights, this protectiveness manifests in small yet meaningful gestures. Even though he trusts in your ability to handle yourself, he'll gladly position himself as a shield between you and any potential threats. He's always ready to divert attention away from you or take the hit in your place —which you often scold him for.

While it goes mainly unnoticed by others you can always tell when he does things for you, just to protect you. Sometimes, you manage to steal a quick kiss from him when nobody's looking, leaving a flustered Kazutora behind you.

— MIKEY.

Mikey is incredibly protective of you, which quickly makes people wonder if there's something going on between you. You both deny it every time, but you're not sure how much longer you'll manage to hide it — you're pretty sure Mikey has already told Draken anyway. (or Sanzu — depends if we're talking about Toman or Bonten Mikey)

It really doesn't help his case that he's always turning down his friend's invitations to hang out in favor of spending time with you. He doesn't explicitly tell them that — and he tries to cover up the fact that he's going out with you by using the excuse of wanting to stay at home and rest— but it doesn't take a genius to figure out his real intentions. It's no coincidence that you and Mikey are always unavailable at the same time.

The gang playfully teases him about his 'resting' time when they see him the next day, not realizing that these moments with you go beyond him simply sneaking away to see his girlfriend.

Your meetings are what keeps Mikey grounded, the very last anchor in his life that prevents him from completely losing himself.

When the weight of the world gets too overwhelming for him to bear, you become Mikey's refuge — the only person capable of providing the comfort he seeks and calming his racing thoughts.

— HANMA.

Hanma is a master at this whole secret relationship thing.

He effortlessly hides his feelings and shows no sign of concern for you, even when you get hurt during a fight or are facing threats from others. To the outside world, he treats you just like any other guy in Valhalla, pushing you to get up and keep fighting —fully aware that you can handle yourself and need no savior.

While he may not shower you with affection in public, there's another side of Hanma behind closed doors that only you gets to see;

As soon as the two of you are alone, he's all over you, always holding you close and kissing you like there's no tomorrow, getting all cocky over the fact that he's the only one allowed to kiss you and touch you like he does.

Of course, don't think he'll let the men who hurt you get away with it.

The next day, Hanma will take the matter into his own hands and seek out whoever hurt or threatened you. He doesn't give any explanation as to why he beats them up, simply brushing it off and telling everyone that he "just felt like it."

[wolfiesmoon]

Genshin guys as dads 🤭

in honour of finally getting off my ass and finishing mondstat, i bring you genshin men as dads <3 i decided to challenge myself and write for characters i haven't written for at all yet

the reader is gender neutral (u can interpret that the kid was adopted or u can interpret that the kid is biologically yours)

Yk the more i read these guys' lines to get a better idea of their characters the more i think they need a therapy session stat

Characters featured: Diluc, Alhaitham, Childe, Ayato

౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Diluc Ragnvindr

"Diluc! Diluc, are you in here?" you knocked before opening the door to his office, assuming he's probably there. You were finally returning to the winery late in the evening and wanted to see how your daughter and husband were doing.

Tonight, they should both be at the winery.

But to your surprise, the office was completely empty. You haven't heard a single peep from your daughter yet, either. Usually she'd be running around and yelling, even if she wasn't with Diluc.

You went upstairs to check your bedroom and were met with a most adorable sight when you opened the door. Your daughter was very peacefully asleep, drool and all, on Diluc's chest. Diluc did not seem very pleased with this arrangement, however.

"Welcome home." he sighed upon seeing you walk to the side of the bed.

"Looks like someone's on pillow duty." you teased him, petting your daughter's head.

"Don't make fun of me. She's been running around all day with seemingly no end to it. Sometimes I'm surprised at what her tiny legs are capable of." he leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling.

"She said she's not tired at all. But she fell asleep almost instantly when she sat on top of me to, umm... bother me." to anyone else, Diluc would seem like he hates this kid with how much he says she bothers or annoys him, but you know that isn't the case.

Whenever she runs up to him to show him something she did, he pats her little head lovingly. He keeps the drawing she made of him in his office, even if he is a bit concerned at how grumpy he looks in her artistic interpretation.

"I wasn't making fun of you... Okay, maybe a little bit." you leaned down, cupping Diluc's face and kissing his cheek. He hummed in dissaproval, but his cheeks turned pink anyways.

"Would you mind joining me? If I can't... I want to know that you're safe, atleast." his eyebrows were creased in worry. You don't know what for, exactly, but you gladly joined him on the bed, hugging him too.

"Is your aim to suffocate me further?" the combined weight of about a quarter of your body and his daughter was not the most freeing in the world.

"No, I just happen to understand the appeal of sleeping on top of you." and you really do. It's always so warm and homey.

"You've worked hard today, dad." you moved some stray hairs out of his face. His tired eyes met yours for a moment before they slipped shut. Hehehe, you need to take a photo of this.

౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Alhaitham

(let's pretend you live together with him now instead of kaveh haha)

"Dad doesn't love me!" the sudden accusation had you turning your head fast, wanting to know what was going on. "What did he do, sweetie?" the little pout on her pudgy face was adorable.

She ran up to you and hugged your leg. "You still love me, right?" she seemed very worried about your reply. It seems like she isn't in the mood to give a proper answer to your question, though.

"Of course I do. You're very very very special to me." You pat her head gently. She seemed satisfied with your reply, giggling happily at you before running off to play.

.

When Alhaitham returned home that day, he attempted to interact with his daughter, as he tries to every day, but he was utterly ignored.

He looked to you, hoping you'd know the reason, but you just shrugged. "She says you don't love her anymore."

"Hm..." was his only reply.

"That's because he doesn't! I told him 'I love you' yesterday but he didn't say it back!" Your daughter crossed her little arms, scowling at her dad before turning around so she didn't have to look at him.

"So it was that." Alhaitham seemed like he understood the situation properly now. And you realised what happened too, because it happens to you occasionally.

"Sweetie, listen. Your dad likes to wear these thingies in his ears. And when he wears them, he can't hear a thing." You explained in the most child friendly way you could.

"Not even an explosion?" Your daughter finally turned back to look at you and Alhaitham, though her eyes were fixated firmly on you.

"Nope. Nothing at all. When he didn't say 'I love you too' yesterday, it was because he was wearing them and couldn't hear." Your daughter turned her head back with an annoyed 'hmph', but you knew she was listening to you.

"So I propose a hug attack. Whenever you see him wearing them." You smiled evilly, glancing at Alhaitham who shot you a dissaproving glare in return.

"Leave me alone." Your daughter huffed, stomping off down the hallway. Oh well, kids don't always think critically, do they? You have a feeling she's already forgiven him a little, though.

"Children make no sense to me." He admits, and you finally greet him properly with a little welcome home peck.

"That's the fun in it, though." You smiled at him and to your surprise, he smiled right back. As awkward as he can get with the kid, he loves her a whole lot.

౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Childe

"Mhhhh... what is it?" he mumbled in annoyance when he felt his hand getting shook. His voice sounded quite raspy now.

"Dad... Dad..." turns out it was your son who was pulling on Childe's arm. He looked like he was about to burst into tears any second, now.

As soon as he saw the distress on his son's dimly lit face, his attitude changed and he was overcome with the sudden urge to take revenge on something or someone. Maybe it's the dad instinct.

"I had a nightmare.... I'm scared..." your son sobbed.

By this point, even you woke up, but your body was still mostly asleep, so you were just listening in.

"Come up here." Childe tapped the bed and your son awkwardly climbed up into his arms.

"Was it a scary monster?" Childe asked in an exaggerated scary voice. Your son nodded, gripping onto the front of Childe's shirt.

"In that case... you don't have to worry at all. I always love a challenge." you could practically see the smile on Childe's face. You turn over, opening your eyes slightly. You have to admit, the sight in front of you is adorable.

"What do you mean, dad?" your son sniffled, rubbing the snot away with his tiny hand.

"I'll fight the monster, of course. Oh, how wonderful it would be to see the b-" he winced a little bit when he felt the light slap on his face.

"Ajax, you'll scare him even more." you warned, your own voice raspy. You moved your other hand to ruffle your son's hair to comfort him.

"Ow, clearly, someone doesn't appreciate me enough." Childe rolled his eyes playfully.

Without warning, you lean forward and peck him on the lips. "There. Now I've evened out the slap."

"Just one peck? Well, I suppose we can't do much more right now... Hehe." Childe turned his attention back on your son, stroking his back gently to calm him down.

"Why do you have that look on your face?" you noticed he was smiling strangely.

"What look?" your accusations have been denied. But he sure does have a plan for you later.

౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Kamisato Ayato

"DAD! Look at where I am!" Your son shouted from somewhere in the tree that was stood in the beautifully maintained garden.

Being the little rebel he is, he climbed the tree despite you telling him multiple times not to.

"Please get down from there. It's unsafe." Ayato tried to reason with him calmly upon noticing him in the treetops.

"Nah, it's so cool up here! I can see the whole estate!" Sometimes, your son's stubborn nature made it hard for him to get along with Ayato. This is one of those cases.

"This is not a joking matter. You could get seriously hurt." Ayato doesn't think he could properly live with himself for a bit if his kid got hurt when he could have prevented it.

"What's going on here?" You joined in, happening to pass by the garden.

"He won't come down. I'm... worried about him." He admits, crossing his arms. Though you do sense a bit of annoyance behind his voice, too.

"Come down. I told you not to climb that tree so many times." You crossed your arms firmly. Your son looked at Ayato's face, then yours and sighed, beginning to descend from the tree. He'd rather avoid a scolding. But his little foot slipped and he suddenly tumbled to the ground.

"Son!" Both of you immediately ran to his side as he started wailing. "Call for healers. Immediately." He seemed fine, looking at him initially, but he might have a broken leg or something.

Both of you stayed by his side the whole time, offering him words of comfort (and a bit of a scolding). It seems like something like this happens almost every week, now. The Kamisato household has certainly gotten livelier ever since getting blessed with your son.

.

"Well, that was certainly an afternoon." You huffed, sitting down behind the table across Ayato.

"I wish he wasn't so reckless and disobedient, sometimes." Ayato held his cheek in worry. He let his son get hurt, again.

"He got that mischief from you." You smiled innocently, sipping your tea.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" He smiled innocently back.

"I miss days of solitude. We only have moments now. I suppose my life hasn't been a calm one for a long while now, though." He sips his own tea, looking outside at the sunset. Working as hard as he does every day is taxing on the soul.

"Guess we gotta make the most of it." You stood up, sitting back down next to him and playfully pecking his cheek.

"Oh, I see what you mean." He returned the mischevious smile you know and love. Just as he grabbed your waist, though...

"LOOK WHAT I HAVE!" Your son burst into the room, holding a sword. His sword.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?!"

[guiltyasdave]

jana hi me again 🫣 could i have the prompt 28 "No one ever cared about me like you."

with either javi p or joel 🫠❤️🤎

take my hand, wreck my plans

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: 557

summary: Javi seeks out your company after a rough day.

tags/warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, mention of food, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, idiots in love because of who i am as a person (let me know if i missed something!)

a/n: i have once again been possessed by angsty thoughts and somehow, this came out of it. i hope you like this eden @reddedmiller and i’m sorry that it took three months lol. thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading 🫶🏻

dividers by @saradika-graphics as always because they’re the best <3

find my full masterlist here & follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates :)

He knocks on your door at 2 in the morning, all but collapses into your arms as soon as you swing it open, tired eyes and heavy limbs that melt into your embrace.

Your colleagues had warned you when he started coming over to your desk, inviting you out for lunch, about how he would chew you up and spit you out, like he did with half of the female staff at the embassy. You hadn’t listened, waving them off and going out with him anyway. First for a quick lunch break, then for after work drinks, then for dinner.

It was fun, a distraction, something to do and someone to know in this city where everything was foreign to you and where you felt more alone than ever before in your life.

It’s more, now. It doesn’t have a definition exactly, but you both know it. You’re the person he turns to when he needs somebody, and you’ll gladly be that for him.

“Do you have something to drink?” His face is sullen as he slumps down on your couch, like the weight of the world crushed him today. You furrow your brow.

“When was the last time you ate something, Javi?”

“‘M not hungry,” he grumbles, confirming your suspicion that he most likely survived the day solely on cigarettes and coffee.

You lean over the couch, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders from behind. His head falls back against you like he can’t help himself.

“I’m gonna make you a sandwich and get you some whiskey, okay?” Inching closer, you press a gentle kiss against his neck, just below his ear.

He sits up a little straighter and turns to you, reluctance in his eyes.

“Querida, it’s the middle of the night, you don’t have to-”

You shake your head and kiss him again, on his cheek this time. “It’s okay. I want to.”

He leans back hesitantly but doesn’t seem to have the energy to fight you on it, so your lips find his face once more before you head for the kitchen.

Watching him all but devour the food has you hiding your smile behind your own glass of whiskey. He already looks a little better.

“Not hungry, huh?” you tease, your voice light.

“Shut up,” comes his short reply, but his lips are twitching.

He has half a mind to stumble out of your flat again afterwards, but you convince him to stay, that it’s really no problem.

He takes a quick shower, mumbling about washing the day away, and you wait in bed, the warm light from your bedside lamp illuminating the room, until he slips under the covers beside you.

You wrap your arms around him again and hold him close, your fingers drawing shapes on his chest. He clears his throat, shifting awkwardly.

“Thank you,” he eventually mumbles, his voice low in the darkness.

“Of course, Javi.” He tends to get like that, struggling to receive any kind of affection or care when he feels like he has nothing to give back.

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “No, seriously. No one ever cared about me like you. I- thank you.”

You sigh and pull him tighter into you, your face buried in his hair. You’ll care for him as long as he lets you.

thank you so much for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment because they make me really happy 🤍