#only once when i can return to the scenes i can relax (“relax”) and safely feel any other emotions

[wastelandroses]

i feel like I have to rewatch and possibly rerewatch the new act before I allow myself to have any coherent thoughts because on first time my stress levels are excruciatingly high so I can't process anything that actually happened.

And I'm also very confused.

[posh--bee]

hotel room revelations || Spencer Reid

pairing → Spencer Reid x Reader

summary → While on a case, you have to not only share a hotel room but also a bed with the BAU's resident genius Spencer Reid whom you have had a crush on since he first joined the FBI. When you wake up during the night with his arms wrapped around you, previously hidden feelings come to light and you realize that your unrequited feelings for him might not be so unrequited after all.

warnings → sharing a bed, love confessions, early seasons!Spencer, insecure!Spencer, misunderstandings, friends to lovers, reader is part of the BAU, no descriptions or pronouns used for the reader, no y/n used

author’s note → I love the "there was only one bed" trope so of course I had to write it with my beloved genius. I'm so happy to finally finish another fic again so let me know what you think about it! <3 (forgot to post this fic and now my cm obsession fizzled out, oops. But I know it will come back to haunt me sooner or later)

word count → 5.2k

When you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re not too happy about it and not sure who or what to blame for it.

You grumble your dissatisfaction without opening your eyes and the warm body behind you freezes.

Now you’re a little confused and you try to fight off the urge to just drift off again so you can actually form a coherent thought because you don’t remember going to sleep with someone else by your side last night. But thinking is still a little difficult when you’re half-asleep and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to even remember if you’re in your own bedroom right now or in another state in some sort of hotel room because of work, so your memory is not the most reliable source of help at the moment.

The someone behind you still holding you in their arms seems to get a little impatient and tries to slowly move away from you again but you don’t let them, instinctively grabbing their hand that is resting softly against your stomach and interlacing your fingers with theirs to keep it there. You hear a startled little sound close to your ear and feel the someone behind you going rigid, even holding their breath in surprise. Feeling bad about spooking your bedmate so suddenly, you apologize by soothingly stroking up and down their arm that is draped over your waist before going back to holding their hand. You don’t want them to let go of you even though you’re still not quite sure who exactly they actually are—but you’re still working on that.

What you do know, however, is that they’re warm and holding you in a gentle embrace and that you feel very safe and secure in their arms. And that you don’t want it to end.

You smile to yourself in satisfaction when you feel the someone gradually relaxing against you once more and you can finally pick up that derailed train of thought of yours to figure out where you are and why you’re not alone in bed.

But that’s when the someone behind you decides to speak up and solve the mystery at last.

“I… I’m really sorry, but I have to move. My arm’s completely fallen asleep…”

Oh. That’s right.

His voice is quiet, timid even and still laced with sleep, and suddenly you’re feeling a lot more awake than just moments before, your heart immediately picking up speed as you remember how you and Spencer ended up in the same bed together.

You’re currently in a little hotel room in a city halfway across the country because of a case JJ had presented you the day before. Five bodies with a sixth person still missing and the local police had decided to ask for the BAU’s help to stop whoever is responsible for these crimes. Spencer and you started to work on the geographical profile while the rest of the team drove to the scenes of crime and talked to the victims’ families. After working until the middle of the night but without making any considerable progress anymore, Hotch decided it was time to go to the hotel, rest, and return to the case after a good night’s sleep.

The hotel was pretty booked already when you boarded the jet so when you arrived at last in the lobby, exhaustion already weighing heavy on your shoulders and your eyelids dangerously heavy, the team was told they had to share rooms and even ended up with a room with a double bed instead of two single ones.

When JJ first announced this little circumstance at first, you really couldn’t care less. Somehow, your tired brain didn’t really consider that you would be one of the people staying in the room with a double bed and much less who would be the other person with you. But when Morgan sauntered over to you, letting the key ring spin around his finger, a wicked gleam in his eyes, you knew nothing good would come of it.

With a smirk he pressed the keys into your hand and announced that you and Spencer would be the lucky pair to share the room with the double bed, giving you a wink that made you want to kill him just a little bit. Morgan knows very well about your little, not all that serious crush on your coworker and makes a point to tease you about it whenever he can, which, unfortunately for you, is very often. Your only consolation is that Spencer is too oblivious to pick up on it even though Derek makes sure everyone and their mother knows how you feel about the young doctor. He obviously claims it’s only because he’s playing cupid and can’t stand the two of you dancing around each other for eternity, but you know for a fact that he’s obviously doing it for his own entertainment as well. Besides, playing cupid only gets you so far when only one person has feelings for the other one—which you’re painfully aware is the case for you and Spencer.

With an especially dirty eyeroll you grabbed the keys and turned to look at Spencer who gave you one of his signature tight-lipped awkward smiles. He didn’t look very happy at the prospect of having to share not only a room but also a bed with you and you tried your hardest not to take it personally. You know Spencer values his personal space so having to spend this and the following nights with another person next to him is nothing to look forward to for him—even if it’s with a good friend.

You masked your disappointment and bruised feelings with a small smile of your own and led the way toward the elevators at the end of the hotel lobby, pointedly ignoring Morgan’s teasing voice telling you to have a good night. You silently swore to yourself that you would get back at him for all of this when the case was solved and over, but right now you were more worried about surviving the next few nights of having Spencer so close to you yet completely out of your reach.

Dealing with your unrequited feelings for the young doctor on a daily basis wasn’t always easy for you but you contended yourself with being his coworker and friend even though it hurt more than you cared to admit. In the beginning, you hoped that your feelings would go away if you just ignored them—after all, it was just a stupid little crush on your adorable and dorky new coworker. But as time went on, and you were still plagued by an eruption of butterflies in your stomach whenever Spencer smiled at you, or accidentally brushed your hand with his when handing you a pen or a cup of coffee, or just stood near you for an extended period of time, you had to admit to yourself that your feelings for him were far more serious than you anticipated at first. The thought of just confessing to Spencer had crossed your mind a lot at this point, to get it off your chest, but the possibility of him rejecting you and losing one of your best friends in the process scared you too much to actually go through with it.

And before you knew it Spencer went on a date with JJ and made out with a gorgeous blonde actress in her pool and flirted with pretty barkeepers, and that was proof enough for you that keeping your feelings to yourself was the right course of action which didn’t mean it saved you from heartbreak or feeling sorry for yourself.

You started to distract yourself with alcohol and attractive strangers between cases, collecting fleeting memories with partners who never really helped you forget the one person who was always on your mind and in your heart. You went on like this until you could hardly look at yourself in the mirror anymore, feeling disgusted and ashamed of yourself, knowing that it would only get worse but still not stopping, telling yourself it was the price you had to pay for not having to spend the nights all by yourself. It was until you drunkenly stumbled into the apartment of yet another stranger, hurriedly opening buttons and zippers, carelessly tossing clothes to the floor, giggling when the stranger’s lips connected to yours despite feeling sick to your stomach. You saw it only when the stranger moved to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck; a photo of the stranger’s family, beautiful children and an adoring partner smiling brightly for the camera, and you wondered if you would ignore this too now that you have seen it, like you ignored the noticeable mark on the stranger’s finger where a wedding ring was clearly missing.

You felt faint when you pushed against the stranger’s shoulders, almost falling over your own two feet leaving the apartment only to find yourself in a part of town you were completely unfamiliar with in the middle of the night. Not knowing what else to do, you called Morgan who picked you up sitting on the curb, looking and feeling pathetic with tearstains on your face. He simply raised his eyebrows at you and wordlessly helped you into his car before driving back to his place. There, he gently wrapped you up in a blanket and cuddled with you on his old sofa for the entire length of three feel-good chick flicks all while alternating between handing you spoons of ice cream and tissues to dry your tears, listening to you in the early hours of the morning spilling your guts to him.

Thankfully, he never talked to you about that night again and you were grateful for it; otherwise, you would probably die on the spot from all the shame and embarrassment it would trigger in you. You had still apologized for inconveniencing him like this, staring at his shoes while stumbling over your words, fingernails biting into the palm of your hands. But Derek acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about, flashing you one of his defeating handsome smiles and you knew that all was good between you two, he was still your friend and didn’t think any less of you, so you pulled him down to press a grateful kiss to his cheek.

It didn’t however save you from Derek wiggling his eyebrows at you whenever Spencer and you sat pressed shoulder to shoulder absorbed in case files or when the two of you would share headphones on the jet while returning home. You are used to it by now, simply sticking your tongue out at him or giving him the finger when Hotch and JJ aren’t looking, earning a good-natured laugh from Derek and a confused glance from Spencer, who, to your relief, never quite understands what the constant teasing between you and the older agent is about.

So yes, after seeking pointless comfort with strangers until the point you almost didn’t recognize yourself anymore, you now are at a point where you would say that generally, you are just fine with knowing that Spencer would never see you as anything other than a good friend and coworker.

But after an exhausting day working on a grueling case, having made close to zero progress on it, and having to share a hotel room and a bed with Spencer only to wake up to him holding you in his arms, you really wish the universe would give you a break one of these days so you could take the time to get over your feelings for your genius friend once and for all.

You sigh quietly, willing your racing heart and those malicious butterflies in your stomach to calm down before letting go of Spencer’s hand, trying your best to ignore the pang of disappointment. The feeling only worsens when Spencer moves away from you, carefully putting some distance between yourself and him, taking all his warmth with him and you can’t help but to curl into yourself at that.

You feel him settle on the other side of the bed, already missing his touch even as fleeting as it was, feeling wide awake and wondering how you will ever fall asleep again tonight after that—and the nights still to come.

“I’m so sorry for ambushing you like that,” Spencer’s quiet voice cuts through the silence of the room, his bashfulness palpable with every word. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t, Spence. Don’t worry.” Quite the opposite, but you keep that thought to yourself, opting for lightening the mood instead. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I mean, I had to share a bed with Emily before and I woke up to her having me in a chokehold so I prefer having you as my bedmate by a mile.”

You’re blessed with a little laugh from Spencer, your body relaxing against the unfamiliar mattress but still missing his closeness from before. You feel him shift on his side of the bed and can’t help but wonder if he too was more comfortable with holding you in his arms. But you quickly dismiss this silly thought of yours, knowing that indulging in false hopes and wishful thinking doesn’t save you from the reality that Spencer just doesn’t feel the same way as you.

“But I’m serious. You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you reiterate after a moment of silence between the two of you, slowly turning around for a more comfortable position which isn’t in the slightest related to the fact that like this you are facing Spencer now. You can’t really make out his features in the darkness of the hotel room but maybe it’s for the best. Otherwise, you probably would give into the temptation of reaching out and brushing a few unruly curls of his behind his ear, your fingers softly lingering on his face just a tad too long.

“That’s—I’m glad…” His voice is quiet, almost distant, and you wonder if he’s already drifting off to sleep again. You couldn’t blame him for that. The day the two of you had was long and wearying, coming into work just to be presented with gruesome pictures from various crime scenes, discussing the UnSub’s profile and MO while being on the jet before being introduced to police officers and grieving family members alike, getting to work without a single break on your mind. If it wasn’t for these inconvenient feelings of yours that caused your heart rate to resemble that of someone who just ran a mile, you would probably feel as exhausted as Spencer is. But in your case, sleep is currently not really something you can think about when all you want is to curl up in his arms like before, feeling warm and safe and happy until the harsh reality of the next morning catches up with you again.

“Still, I’m sorry,” Spencer then whispers into the darkness, your name leaving his lips in a soft sigh, and you frown. There’s really nothing he has to apologize for and you want to tell him as much, but he’s faster than you, his words coming out in a self-conscious rush.

“I’m sorry that you are stuck here with me. I know you’d prefer being with Morgan instead and I’m sorry that he’s being such an idiot about all of this.”

Now you really don’t know what he’s talking about. What does Derek have to do with anything? But Spencer doesn’t let you voice your thoughts, only to confuse you even more.

“I-I know you like Morgan so you were probably hoping that he would just assign this room to himself and you, and I really don’t get why he’s so set on acting like he doesn’t have feelings for you as well. I get he’s not really someone who does relationships but he’s lucky that someone special like you is in love with him so—”

“Spencer, stop—” you suddenly interrupt this agitated rambling of his, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he’s somehow convinced you have feelings for your fellow agent. “Wha-What are you talking about? I’m not in love with Derek Morgan. We’re friends, but that’s really all there is to it. What on earth makes you think that I like him like that?”

You push yourself up on your elbow in your bewilderment, the sheet that covers you and Spencer falling from your shoulders in the process. You quickly turn around, turning on the light by your bedside, not believing what nonsense you just heard. Dumbfounded, you look at the genius lying beside you, his expression confused and apologetic in return.

“I’m—sorry?” he starts while sitting up slightly so the two of you are at eye level, his voice hesitant and uncertain. “I just thought… The two of you are always together, even outside of work, on the weekends. And you have all these little private jokes with Morgan and conversations that always stop whenever someone else gets closer. And he always makes you laugh and flustered, so I just figured—you know, that you like him more than just a friend or a coworker.”

He takes a deep breath and looks away, his fingers fiddling with the hem of the stiff hotel sheet while you can only stare at him open-mouthed.

“And I figured that he’s an idiot for not realizing that he’s the luckiest man on earth to have your heart.”

The silence in the dim hotel room stretches on while Spencer pointedly avoids meeting your eyes and you continue to stare at him, your mind still trying to process that he is convinced about your feelings for Morgan when your heart only belonged to Spencer for a long time now, when you wish for nothing but to wake up in his arms like you just did every day for the rest of your life.

You reach for him and grab his face, holding him in place when he’s startled by your sudden action and the intense eye contact, his eyes widening in confusion and shock but you don’t care. You can’t. There’s a sudden need in you for him to understand how wrong he is about your alleged feelings for Morgan, to make him see the truth that was always right in front of him.

So you resolutely look into his eyes, ignoring the subtle trembling of your fingers against his soft skin and the ringing of your own heartbeat in your ears. You’ve experienced explosions going off right next to you, you’ve cornered armed serial killers and ran into possibly lethal situations without a second thought, but somehow you’ve never been as fucking sacred as you are right now. You could ruin everything you have with Spencer with what you are about to say, but you can’t keep it in any longer. You need him to know how you feel about him, how you’ve felt about him for so long now.

“Spencer Reid, you listen to me. I am not in love with Derek Morgan, I never was and I never will be. I can’t believe you’d think that when I’ve been pining for you for literal years now! It’s always been you, I need you to know that. From the moment I saw you standing next to Gideon with that stupidly adorable sweater and that awkward smile of yours, I knew I was done for. So I never want to hear you say that I have feelings for Morgan when I’m in love with you!”

Your voice is shaking throughout your little speech, but you make it to the end, intently staring into Spencer’s eyes who looks back at you with such a stupidly shocked expression that you would’ve laughed at him if not for your heart beating so wildly against your ribcage that it physically hurt.

The silence that follows your confession is oppressive and all-consuming, and you let go of Spencer’s face so he doesn’t fall victim to your nervous urge to sink your fingernails into something. Instead, they bite into the skin of your forearms as you hug your midsection, watching the young genius open and close his mouth multiple times without making a sound, his eyes blinking rapidly.

Dejectedly, you nod to yourself, already putting together a list of romantic comedies in your mind Morgan will have to endure together with you while you pathetically sob into his shoulder, tissues and ice cream keeping you company on your little coffee table in front of the TV.

You didn’t really expect it to end any differently, but it still hurt more than you anticipated. Your eyes begin to sting and you close them, stubbornly fighting the urge to cry. You have enough time for that later, preferably when you’re not sharing a room with Spencer anymore and the case is over, so you take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself before opening your eyes again.

Spencer is still looking at you with wide eyes, a noticeable blush adorning his cheeks. Any other time you would find this discovery incredibly endearing, but right now, with your heart in pieces and dangerously close to crying, it only reminds you that you can’t take your words back, that now he knows how you feel about him and that your relationship with him will never be the same again, even if the two of you stay friends.

You manage a meek smile that Spencer doesn’t return, and you wonder if his silent reaction to what you revealed to him could be a blessing in disguise after all. You want him to say something, anything, to you but at the same time you don’t know how well you and your bruised heart would handle hearing him say that he doesn’t feel the same way about you out loud.

What you do know is that you can’t stay here any longer, you need to get out of this room, out of this situation, now.

With one last look at Spencer, you avert your eyes, your voice quiet, tinged with regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper before sitting on the edge of the bed, your back now to him, only tilting your head back to speak in his direction. “I’ll ask the others if I can stay in one of their rooms for the night.”

You move to stand up and that’s what snaps Spencer out of his daze at last, hurriedly reaching for you before you can get up, much less process what is happening, one of his large hands on your arm while the other is cupping your jaw tenderly, almost hesitantly. The kiss he pulls you into then is the opposite of that. It’s urgent and desperate and completely steals your breath away, your heart leaping into your throat and your stomach lurching in confused delight. Still, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, entirely too overwhelmed to react, but when you do it’s just as urgent, just as desperate. Your teeth clank together slightly but you ignore it in favor of meeting Spencer’s tongue with your own, your head beginning to spin. You’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the lack of oxygen but you really can’t care less about that at the moment, especially not when you swallow the appreciative groan that falls from Spencer’s lips as one of your hands finds its way into his curls and pulls not all too gently on them.

The kiss only breaks when you’re certain the two of you are running out of air completely but still Spencer whines quietly at the sudden loss of contact, following your lips until the hand in his hair tugs him back. You placate him with a quick peck to his nose before concentrating on calming your heavy breathing and frantically beating heart, your forehead softly resting against his.

You don’t protest when Spencer starts to pull you closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and guide you to settle in his lap, your head now resting on his shoulder, humming in contentment at the kiss he presses to the top of your head. You don’t say anything for a while, having no need for words, not when you feel Spencer’s heart mirror the rhythm of yours as you place your hand on his chest.

You look up at him when he covers your hand with his own and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand that makes your skin tingle pleasantly. His eyes swim with emotions but he doesn’t look away as you try to decipher all of them even though his blush reaches from the tip of his ears to somewhere underneath the soft shirt he wears. Your fingers itch to pull the collar of the shirt down a little, just to see how far that blush really goes when he quietly clears his throat, the bright smile on his pretty lips faltering slightly.

“I’m sorry for—for not saying anything just now. I couldn’t—I wasn’t sure you really meant what you said, I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t some sort of joke.”

You shift in his embrace, ready to repeat what you have said, to express what you feel for him until he is sick of hearing your voice, but before you can even open your mouth, he quickly steals a kiss from you, and then another one, effectively shutting you up and looking quite proud of himself too when he meets your eyes again. So you have no choice but to let him finish what he has to say like you always do, always giving him time to collect his thoughts and listening to him when he is ready to share them with you.

“But I know you would never lie to me, especially not about something like this and only then did I realize we could’ve been doing this years ago if I hadn’t been such an idiot and too blind to see what was in front of me all along because—because I’ve been in love with you for a long time now too.”

The smile that spreads on your face is so big it hurts your cheeks, radiant enough to challenge the whole sun and you have to twist your fingers into the front of Spencer’s shirt to pull him down to you so you can feel his lips on yours again. They’re soft and warm and real and when you part again the laugh that bubbles past his is like music to your ears, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You lean further into him and his arms around you tighten in response, enjoying the comfortable silence in this unfamiliar hotel room for a little while longer before gently speaking up again.

“You’re not an idiot Spencer. How could you have known when I’ve always been too scared to say anything? But now I did and we’ve finally found each other, and from now on we can make up for lost time. What do you say, my pretty boy?”

The adoration shining clearly in his brown eyes tells you everything you need to know and you move in to kiss him once more, preferably without ever stopping again, but suddenly Spencer tenses against you, making you look up at him with a quizzical look.

You can’t stop the little groan that escapes you at his next words.

“You and Morgan—did you really never—?”

As your genius worries his bottom lip between his teeth you really wish Morgan would finally stop being a part of your conversation.

“I—I believe what you’ve said, that you don’t have feelings for him,” Spencer continues, “but I’d understand if at some point, you know—because the way you are around each other—"

“Spencer. Let’s not do this again,” you have to interrupt a second time this night, but not unkindly. “Yes, even though I have feelings for you I have slept with other people, but it never meant anything to me—in fact, it just made me feel so, so horrible. And when it comes to Morgan—he and I are friends and that is all there is to it. It’s true I spend a lot of time with him, that we have a lot of little inside jokes and private conversations just for our ears, but do you want to know what the one common factor is with all of these things? It’s you, Spence.”

You emphasize your words with a kiss to his jaw, easing the tentative look he gives you by gently running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Most of the time I spent with Derek was just me whining about how much I wish you were mine and how unfair it is how adorable you look whatever you do and how smart and kind and pretty you are, and that you probably tried to kill me when you wore your glasses to work every day for some time. It’s honestly a miracle Morgan didn’t also develop a crush on you by sheer proximity to me, like through osmosis. He had to listen to me for years pining about you so he gets back at me for it by teasing me relentlessly about you, so I’ll have you know that all of our funny little private jokes are actually at my expense. My point is, even if Morgan would’ve wanted to start something with me—which he never did by the way—, he, and those other people too, never stood a chance because I only ever had eyes for you, Spence.”

“Oh.”

Spencer shakes his head in disbelief but he’s grinning like a fool with his cheeks and ears painted cherry red. He’s quick to hide his face in your hair, too overwhelmed by the sincerity in your voice and you think that now your genius finally, finally understands. But still, you would continue to reassure him about your feelings if his insecurities should get the better of him again, understanding that he doesn’t doubt you but that the voice in his head sometimes isn’t the kindest to him and that everything about this is very new to him.  

You close your eyes, your head resting comfortably against his shoulder until you’re on the brink of falling asleep, the comfortable and content silence of the hotel room and the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest steadily lulling you to sleep. After the long day you’ve had and the excitement of this night, exhaustion has now caught up with you and if the big yawn that escapes Spencer is any indication, he is feeling its effect as well.

You’re vaguely aware of Spencer reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp before moving the both of you to lay down together, shifting and coordinating limbs until you’re both comfortable with him holding you in his arms, his hand resting softly on your stomach and your fingers interlacing with his.

You smile to yourself, knowing that from now on you’ll have the privilege of falling asleep like this every night—in the arms of your beloved genius.

[atrwriting]

kisses and other sweet things — billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

ok… i couldn’t help myself lol

also side note i don’t remember what scene this gif was from but i feel like his turned on look and look of disgust/confusion is the same — like if i hadn’t watched the show i’d be like “did he just see a pretty girl walk in?? or did someone just threaten him?? both??? hopefully both???”

but like also if he looked at me like that…,,,… melting. on the spot.

as always, warnings: smuuuuut, dom!billy, brat!reader, i don’t know if you can call it non-con but just to be safe im going to put that, p in v sex, oral, spitting in mouth (yeah i went there sue me), tears, biting, cums inside of reader (they didn’t have condoms in his time but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them!!!!)

also don’t sue me i don’t know if they had running water (sinks, baths, etc) but also the real billy the kid didn’t look this fine so we’re making it up as we go and going with the flow

ENOUGH TALK — here’s kisses and other sweet things…

you had been working with a crew for some time now, and as you all struggled to keep a cash flow — you had to turn to other things.

like joining forces with another crew.

the idea of joining a crew wasn’t what unsettled you — what unsettled you was being the only woman with a gun with even more men.

it’s just for one job, y’all, they had said. just this one.

one job turned into two. then that turned into three. four, five, six — and suddenly you knew everyone’s back story, drink of choice, and their type when it came to women of the night.

your first crew never asked how you felt, but you also never told them. they were all — including you — in it for the money. at the end of the day, it was all about what you had in your pockets. there was no time for quelling the simple worries, like they’d call the ones in your head.

at the end of the day — you had been doing this a long time. you had taken care of yourself up until this point, and you would continue to do so. didn’t matter who you were working with — you’d get it done.

after a day of success, everyone wanted to blow off steam. you all had found a boarding house for the night where the alcohol ran deep and there was two or three pretty women for each cattle rustler in your large group. you stayed behind a bit to drink with them, but once they started eyeing the women — you knew it was time to go.

sleeping with any of the men you worked with was also a bad idea. you couldn’t afford them seeing you as anything less than someone quick with a draw — and you worried a night of meaningless sex would ruin that.

you would never take the chance.

“have your fun, boys,” you chuckled. “you deserve it.”

“won’t stay a little longer, sweetheart?” your leader asked as a girl licked at his neck.

“another time — bath’s calling my name.”

a few pleasantries were thrown over shoulders, and you returned them. you made your quick escape up the stairway and into the shared washroom between three or four bedrooms. you knew your party had rented those rooms for the evening, so you were very excited to be able to have the bath to yourself for a little bit longer than usual.

you filled the tub with scalding hot water. the steam from the water and the whisky in your stomach made you hazy, but you welcomed it. who knew when you’d have until you had this sort of luxury or privacy again — you weren’t going to waste the chance.

the bath was quite large — fit for two or three people. you stayed on one edge as you washed your dirty skin. you were about to relax against the back when the doorknob began to turn.

you immediately snatched your gun and pointed it at the door.

“shit — sorry.”

it was the bonney kid.

he was holding a towel in his hand and was naked from the waist up. a scared look on his face was present as he tried to avert his eyes.

you put down the gun and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his next move.

“just came to wash up,” he spoke.

you knew he couldn’t see anything from where he stood, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to see below the water’s surface with the bubbles. you could tell him to fuck off — but being mean to some of these assholes sometimes proved to be worse than just swallowing your pride and being nice. you didn’t know billy very well — and you weren’t about to find out while you were naked if he was an asshole or not.

“i’m going to be a bit,” you spoke. “i don’t mind if you come in.”

he looked at you uneasily before nodded curtly, lips parting. you closed your eyes and leaned back against the tub, letting your eyes drift closed. you heard the water running and the sound of soap being scrubbed onto skin, and felt better. the next sound you heard was a razor being pulled out and your eye drifted open.

he was shaving.

he kept his gaze on himself in the mirror as he spoke. “surprised the kid can shave?”

you smiled. “never thought you were a kid from how you were with a gun.”

that made him smile. “never seen a women like you with a gun before.”

you hummed in response, not exactly sure how to respond.

“come up here to escape?”

that made you laugh. you couldn’t help but let your gaze fall on his reflection in the mirror. his eyes were trained on his skin as he let the blade slide down his neck and pull up loose hairs. your mind was hazy with drink and heat, which made you forget to respond.

“some people would say it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

you laughed at that — he had you there.

“and some people would say it’s rude to intrude on a woman’s bath,” you countered.

he smiled, but kept his eyes off you. you’d like to think it was out of respect. “…and would you?”

“not with you,” you offered. “you’re the only one who hasn’t tried to make a pass at me.”

“not hard to believe,” he spoke. “downstairs they’ve got a running bet to see who will be the first with you.”

you scoffed. “in their dreams.”

billy didn’t respond. he was almost done with shaving. he was washing more of his upper arms in the sink, and you suddenly felt bad. you were only taking this long because you thought everyone would be preoccupied with the downstairs activities, and because you couldn’t exactly exit with him standing there — able to see you.

“i can leave if you want to wash,” you spoke.

“water will be cold,” he responded. “‘s fine — i’ll wait the hour.”

you weren’t sure why — but that made you feel bad.

“you could join me.”

you weren’t sure what brought that on, and you knew you’d probably regret it later. however, billy’s eyes drifted up the length of the mirror to the edge where you knew he could see the tub, to your eyes. you weren’t sure how you looked — but you knew your curls were piled on top of your head and you looked sleepy. relaxed, even. peaceful.

“i don’t think you mean that, sweetheart.”

you hummed. “you don’t have to. just thought i’d offer.”

he appeared to sigh, and that’s when you thought he would leave — but he didn’t.

instead, he locked the door.

“should’ve done that in the first place,” he spoke before coming towards the tub to unlace his pants.

you turned your head away from him and let out a small giggle, shielding your gaze from his naked form. “how would we have gotten so well acquainted then, mr. bonney?”

you heard him find the other side of the tub where he sat back against. you let your eye line find in front of you and your jaw almost dropped at the sight. billy appeared to struggle to get comfortable as he sank into the warmth of the tub. the water line came up to right under his chest, showing off all of his perfect and trim muscles. with billy’s arms stretched out around the edge of the tub… you got the perfect view of the stretched muscles of his biceps.

“do i need to remind you about staring?” he asked.

you weren’t sure if he was joking — but he was right. if you wanted respect, you had to give it, too.

but you couldn’t deny just how handsome he was.

“sorry,” you said with a coy smile, and let your head fall back against the tub again.

you could hear water slightly splashing from the other side of the tub. billy had extended his legs so they were brushing yours slightly, and you shivered at the thought.

“can you…” he began. “can you get my back?”

you lifted your head and smiled. i can do all that and more if you asked, you thought.

“sure,” you said with a simple smile.

billy turned around and handed you the soap. there were a few cuts and bruises littered on his back, and you tried to be as careful with them as possible. you started on his neck, working the soap and the sponge against his muscles.

he hummed in response. you could’ve died at the thought of the big, bad billy the kid keening into your touch because you were massaging his muscles just right.

“that feels good,” he spoke. “talented fingers i suppose.”

you laughed lightly at that. you kept the sponge on his shoulders, and then worked down towards the expansion of his shoulder blades. it was scary to see such a broad man before you as you were so bare, but also the look of him was so enticing. you drew rough circles on his skin and worked your way down to the middle of his back.

“that’s good,” he replied. “thank you, darlin’.”

you went to hand the sponge back to him, but he turned around in place instead. the tops of your breasts were showing and you knew he could see the wildness in your eyes.

“how’d a sweet thing like you end up with us?” he asked, eyes searching yours for the answer.

“maybe i’m just the only one who knows how to handle you boys,” you spoke, trying to be coy. “actually… one of them i grew up with. we’ve always worked together, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone.”

“and what would he say if he knew if you were in here with me?” he asked.

you scrunched your eyebrows at him. “wouldn’t be his business. he’s also got a pretty blonde in his lap tonight. change of pace from his usual red head.”

“and he missed a chance to get to see you like this?” he asked, tucking a curl behind your ear.

“is his loss your gain, mr. bonney?” you asked, a smile drifting onto your face.

that was bold. you knew it. you could feel it.

“i think you’d have to ask the pretty miss before me,” he responded, inching his face closer. “she’d be mighty sweet if she let me kiss her.”

“she’s pretty pissed you haven’t already.”

he stared at you for a few minutes with his plump and pink lips parted in such a way where you knew thoughts were running behind his pretty eyes. he dipped his forehead towards yours as the intensity of the situation mixed with the hot steam around you and the liquor inside both of you. he dipped his chin once, and caught your waiting lips with ease.

his lips were dry and cracked against yours, but you loved it. billy was the type of man that was hard and worked even harder, and every bit of him reflected that. his dark curls were twirling around his hairline, mixing with sweat and soapy water. you wanted to brush them back, hop in his lap, and kiss him until there was more water on the floor than in the tub.

but you couldn’t — not yet.

billy’s lips folded between yours as if he was just happy to be here — with you. the feeling was intoxicating as there was nothing like sharing intimacy with a sweet man in the comfort of hot water. you couldn’t help yourself in that moment — you brought your hand up to cup the side of his face, and he sucked in a sharp breath in response.

“you can touch me, you know,” you whispered.

“the things i want to do to you, darlin’…” he spoke, shaking his head and trying to catch his breath at the same time. “shouldn’t be wasted in a tub. let me take you back to your room.”

you both left the bathtub and tried your best to dry off as quickly as possible. it was almost hard to believe you were giggling with billy like innocents as you raced back to your room — hoping not to run into any more cowboys.

you immediately pushed him to sit down on the edge of the bed before you climbed into his lap. his thighs were strong and thick — the perfect foundation for a thing like you to hold yourself up enough to grab his cock in your hands, and swallow his moans through another kiss.

“tried not to stare in the bathtub, billy… but can you blame me?” you asked, breathless.

“noticed you starin’,” he grunted, running his calloused hands all over your body. “couldn’t help but stare back. needed to see where the trigger on you was.”

you squealed in delight at his dirty mouth before he threw you off his lap and rolled you over. he immediately started kissing down your body.

“i want you inside me, billy,” you whined. “not that.”

he worked his way back up to you before he caught you in another chaste kiss. against your lips, he spoke, “i’m a gentleman, sweetheart, first and foremost.”

“and what if a dirty little thing like me didn’t want a gentleman?”

he caught your chin in between his pointer finger and thumb and extended your neck ever so slightly. he looked down his nose at your pretty, flushed face. you smiled up at him as he scanned your face. “then i’d tell you — if i’ve got you all to myself, i’m going to do anything i want with that pretty little pussy. planned on tastin’ you, sweetheart — you got a problem with that?”

a wide grin spread across your face as your cheeks became rosier. “can’t say i can argue with you, then, cowboy.”

he pressed a heavy kiss to your lips, your cheek, one on the base of your neck — and then bit down hard on the skin of your shoulder. immediately, your hands came up to lay across his biceps before he began to suck on the spot, sending shock waves throughout your body. he withdrew from you and was in between your thighs in an instant.

he spread your legs and held them down in place. his tongue was strong and thick as it explored the places between your folds. you hoisted yourself onto your elbows so you could get a better look at the angel before you.

you watched as his eyes close as his tongue drew sloppy, wet circles around your clit. your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you watched him bring a hand up to his mouth, lubricate his fingers, and prod at your entrance. billy let out a throaty groan as his two fingers slipped in with ease, exploring for that one special spot.

he watched as your pussy swallowed his fingers, hoping to trap them inside of you. you were almost vibrating at how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you and his drier thumb deliver the most delicious bouts of friction and pressure to your clit.

“yes —“ you gasped, gazing at his fingers.

his eyes immediately flicked up to yours. “still got a problem with this, doll?”

you folded your lips into each other as you shook your head slowly, holding his gaze. you were biting back the moan as he curled your fingers inside of you.

“no, that’s not how this works,” he stated. “if i’m making you feel that good, i should get to hear those pretty moans, don’t you think?”

a deep crease was forming in your brow with the perfect combination of friction, lubrication, pressure, and rhythm you had ever felt. you wanted to respond to him, of course, but how could you?

“i gotta work for it, that it?” he grunted. “oh, sweet thing…”

he shoved a third finger inside of you and you gasped. you couldn’t help it. you fisted the sheets on either side of you and threw your head back in the air. his thumb was working long, drawn out circles on your sensitive clit as your hips bucked up to meet his movements.

“that’s what you needed, baby?” he asked. “break so easily. i’d fit another, but this pussy is so sweet and tight — can’t fit.”

you were practically whining at his words. he would switch between his tongue and thumb every few seconds to show you the type of variety that had your toes curling. his groans against your pussy were the added vibration that kept your hips moving to meet his face.

“tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he grunted, his eyes closed. “can’t wait to stuff my cock in there.”

“don’t be mean to me, billy,” you gasped. “i want to feel your cock so bad, please…”

“no, baby,” he refused. “not until i make you feel good. you want my cock? yeah, well — you know what i want.”

you whined in frustration at his words — his words, the addition of what was making the heat and pressure build, and build, and build inside you until you were a sobbing mess on the bed.

“that’s it, sweetheart — give in,” he gasped. “i wanna know how good i’m making you feel.”

his voice was so husky it was taking over all of your senses. you hung onto every word as he led you closer and closer to what was your tipping point. he was stretching you so taut — like a string, ready to snap. when he suddenly pulled his hand away, you barely noticed it — until he replaced it with his cock.

you gasped at what came next.

first it was your legs — they immediately began to shake uncontrollably. the immense pressure started at your curled toes, your stretched feet, and worked its way up all the way to your shaking calves and thighs. the warmth coaxed your hips into a soft roll as you rode out your orgasm — blinded by the ecstasy of it all.

you immediately grabbed onto billy for dear life as all of your senses fucking swam. it was wave, after wave, after wave that hit you, arched your back towards the ceiling, and left you fucking breathless. your mouth fell open instantly, parted as whines and soft moans left and filled the open air of your bedroom.

and what did billy do? he grabbed you by the chin, still rutting his hips against yours, and spit in your fucking mouth.

“swallow,” he ordered, eyes boring down into yours.

you gasped as you understood his command, and like the good girl you were — you did as you were told.

“good girl,” he whispered from above you, stroking your chin.

you sucked in a sharp breath of air as you tried to regain your senses. you hoisted yourself back into your elbows, trying to focus — but it was just so hard. your pussy was so, so sensitive and it was like billy’s cock knew exactly out how to drag out your orgasm. you glanced up at billy, and realized your vision was blurry. shattered, fucked out beyond belief — you realized there were tears, literal tears in your eyes.

“no breaks for you, sweetheart,” he spoke, leaning over and holding your hips down. “need to make sure this pussy knows who she belongs to.”

your body refused to stop shaking — but it gave into every touch, caress, pull, and push from billy. you were his to use and you fucking relished in the feeling.

through your dark, thick, damp lashes, you glanced up at him. immediately, his bright, wild eyes connected with yours. there was no stopping the animal before you — not until he got his fix. the pure and pretty girl who always surprised the group with her skill was laying beneath him like a fucked out doll and he couldn’t get enough.

“please, billy,” you whined, biting down on your lip. “use my pussy just like that…”

“my fucking pussy,” he grunted.

“all yours, baby,” you gasped, laying victim to the curling warmth inside your womb once again. it was like an itch that needed to be scratched, and only billy could fix it. the idea of a second orgasm taunted you — teased you, until it was the only thing you could think about. you were close… so close… “billy, fuck — you’re going to make me — you’re gonna —“

“that’s it, baby, yeah —“ his thrusts were getting sloppier now as a light sheen of sweat lay across his forehead. the veins in his biceps and neck were protruding and his eyes were trained on your face. “bein’ so good f’me.”

“billy —“ you cried, tears coming to your eyes again. you reached for him, and brought him down to you. he held you by the back of the head and held your jaw in place with his thumb. through gritted teeth and wet eyes, you sobbed, “driving me fucking crazy.”

“yeah, yeah?” he taunted. “good. boutta make a mess of this fuckin’ pussy.”

with one last thrust, you curled into billy’s neck and cried. actually cried. he held you close to him as he continued to thrust inside of you — pressing fat, wet kisses to the side of your face. you were shaking in his hold, trying so desperately to hold onto reality — but it was slipping. it was slipping farther and farther away with every sweet word that billy ghosted over your ear.

“say you’re mine,” he ordered, with desperation in your voice. “say you’re mine, and i’ll cum.”

“i’m yours, billy,” you sobbed. “i’m yours. only yours.”

an animalistic groan left billy’s mouth as he tugged on your hair. he pulled your neck back and taut, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and biting down on your shoulder. his body pulsed one, two, three times as his orgasm overtook him and you. you were a weeping, crying mess and took everything that billy gave you.

he rut his cock into you a few more times as you both came down for your highs. billy was so commanding in bed — but after? nothing compared to how he was after. he pulled you into his lap, cock still inside you, and began peppering kisses all over your face. sweet nothings were whispered into your ear, but all you could do was whimper quietly in response. he laughed slightly in your ear, his breath ticking your sensitive skin, and dug his nose into your hairline.

“never getting rid of me now, sweet thing.”

- - -

would love to hear your thoughts :)

-L

[lottiies]

ALL THAT GRACE, ALL THAT BODY

→ you wash the grime off your boyfriend’s body after he returns from a mission!!

CW: x gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, i think that’s it!!

WC: 800+

NOTE: i didn’t really imagine this with any leon in particular ˃ᴗ˂ just a short fic hehe i haven’t really written anything in a while…let there be no typos

MASTERLIST

Kissing and sex can be casual, in some cases. Hook up culture and games like seven minutes in heaven and truth or dare allow for them to be. In the heat of the moment, specks of unique imperfections are completely missed.

There is nothing casual, however, about the act of running your hands through someone’s skin and hair with the intent of cleaning them and nurturing them back to a better state. It’s the exact scene that played behind a particular shower curtain.

A chaste kiss was pressed against the mole on his neck, and another one landed on the healed up scar tissue on his shoulder. Steamy water washed away your gentle touches, leaving a blank canvas for you to adorn with affection over and over again.

For the most part, Leon didn’t speak much during this unless you voiced the thoughts in your head, he was too caught up in enjoying your caresses. The only think he requested was for there to be no talks about his missions and work while in the shower, he wanted to focus on you and not the hell he just returned from. Thankfully, he didn’t return too battered up this time. Just a couple nips and bruises, nothing fractured or broken like other unfortunate times.

His skin was already reddening just a tinge from the temperature, similar to the shade he turned whenever you littered gentle nips against his neck. But he always asked for the water to be turned up high, he was used to it. Before he met you he had felt so lonely and hot water had always been a comfort for him. Plus, colder water just reminded him of when he’d try to sober up after some drinks, terrible terrible times.

“You know the drill! Close your eyes for me.”

His eyelashes fluttered as he followed your instructions. Hands perched themselves on your hips so he wouldn’t lose his balance. You began threading your shampoo lathered palms and fingers through his hair, gently rubbing his scalp.

“Mm…” He purred contentedly, his tense shoulders relaxing. Leon was almost tempted to slump against you, would you hold him until the end of times? He’d like to think the answer is yes. “You should work in one of those uh…what’s the name? Those…head spa places? You’d put others out of business.”

“Yeah? Does it really feel that good?”

“Y’know, you ask me that every time, hell yes. Feels like my brain is turning to mush. Careful sweetheart, I might just topple over you.”

“Pfft.”

You pushed all his hair back. He looked otherworldly. One look at him, and no one would believe that he’s a man keeping the world safe with a mountain’s weight of survivor’s guilt on his shoulders. How could he look so tranquil?

It was no use, you shook the thought away. You’d ask him another time.

“It kinda pisses me off how good-looking you are.” You whisper to him, washing the residue of shampoo off your hands before cupping his face. Once upon a time, his cheeks had been more sunken in. But they had gotten fuller being in a relationship with you.

“When did you become such a flatterer?” He asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile. Just a subtle one.

“I dunno, maybe the moment I laid eyes on you.” You tug him more towards the water, washing away the shampoo from his hair as he lowered his head. “I’m pretty hard to please y’know…got really high standards.”

“No way I met all of them.”

“Passed with flying colors. You raised the bar a bit, actually. Think you’ve got me wrapped around your finger for eternity.”

With a washcloth, you cleaned the expanse of his skin, leaving it smelling faintly of rosemary. Your water bill is begging you to hurry your pace, but you went as slow as a snail.

Thank God he could finally open his eyes again, there was nothing he loved more than having his sight on you.

If only you could see yourself from his perspective. He saw everything. The way you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth while you did your best to wash around one of his wounds, you didn’t need to be so gentle with him but you were anyway, and the glimmer in your eyes when you took a brief peek at his face.

“Sorry, baby…” Your murmur was accompanied by a wince when you thought you rubbed too harshly. It felt like a tickle to him though, nothing more, and he reassured you of that.

One minute turned into five, then five into ten, then ten into fifteen. Ten of those minutes were dedicated to cherishing the body that belonged to the recipient of your adoration.

The white noise of running water came to an end with a twist of your wrist. He pulled you close, curling his fingers under your jaw as he leaned in to kiss your lips. It was a small token of appreciation for how tender you always were with him. Droplets from his hair fell onto you, for some reason it felt intimate. “Thanks…I feel as good as new.”

“You should get some shut eye after this, when’s the last time you slept?”

“Been a while.” God, he didn’t even remember. His assignment had been long and frankly he hadn’t had the luxury of resting.

Leon shook his head before scrunching his hair with a smaller towel that hung from the curtain rod, some of the water on his hair went flying.

“Bad dog!” You couldn’t help but giggle.

He shot you an amused huff. “Yeah yeah, my bad.”

Accepting love had been hard, but you were full of it and oh so willing to give it that Leon had grown to depend on you.

Maybe you and him were meant for one another.

[bomber-grl]

Hi, can I get something w the prompt 30? Maybe w Damian.

If it's friends to lovers-

Idk, I just want some inocent fluff and jokes.

I‼️ Need‼️ Sweetness‼️

Prompt #30: laying their head on the other’s shoulder

Today was an exhausting day, both at school and doing your vigilante work. Luckily, before you left back to your place Damian had invited you over, and how could you refuse?

Your bags were taken upon entrance by Alfred and then you were led deeper into Wayne Manor. Damian led you to the living room, or in other words- one of them.

It was a place to just relax and it’s not like any of the other residents were going to intrude so you and Damian whipped out snacks that you both bought on the way and some that were already here.

Not to mention how he had prepared a blanket and sat on the couch next to you…

The plan? It was to watch of movie of course! I mean it was already deep into the night and as much tired as you were- you just couldn’t sleep.

The same could be said about Damian, he was up right alongside you. It was kind of him to.

I mean, it had hardly been a few weeks that you were only friends now turned lovers. Things were bound to get awkward or lovey- or both, eventually.

Well a voice brought you out of your thoughts and back to reality. “So, you know what you want to watch or am I gonna choose?” Damian was standing by you on the couch facing the tv as he scrolled through Netflix.

“Um no I don’t know, how about you decide?” Best to cover up the fact you weren’t paying attention by forcing the question back at him.

“Alright then…” his tone was obviously suspicious but he went along without a fuss and chose a random movie that you weren’t familiar with but knew he enjoyed.

After, he snuck under the covers and sat by your side as the movie began. Throughout the movie you could tell from your peripheral vision that Damian was looking at you to gauge your reaction at certain scenes but you pretended to be none the wiser.

Since the movie was 2 hours long you got a bit lost in keeping track of time. You searched for your phone under the covers and once you found and read the screen you made a mental note of it being 12:00

One more hour to go… which you miserably failed. You were struggling to stay awake and the only thing that snapped you back to reality was a sudden weight on your shoulder.

You turned to face whatever it was, I mean were you really so off guard that this snuck pass your defenses?

Well much to your not so much surprise, it was Damian. His head was rested against your right shoulder and his eyes were closed and you took note of the gentle rising and falling of his chest.

He was so cute and looked peaceful as he slept. You sort of felt an ego boost at the thought of Damian feeling so safe around you that he could not only fall asleep but also let you touch him without rousing him awake.

Which is something you found out when you glided your fingers through his soft hair and gently pushed aside any stray ones from his face.

Maybe it was because of how late it was, maybe because of the lack of light, or maybe just the urge to cuddle with Damian but you let out a breath and let your head go limp and rest on top of Damian’s.

What’s the worse that could happen?

Well not anything particularly bad in your opinion. Luckily it was the weekend so you didn’t worry as much once you awoke but what really bothered you was the snickering sounds surrounding you.

Once you opened your eyes and saw Damian, his usual cool demeanor was gone. His face was flushed to the nines and you soon found out why.

Three of his siblings Dick, Todd, and Tim had found you sleeping there and thought I’d be cute to take a picture.

That wasn’t so bad but you knew Damian so him reacting this way wasn’t so bad.

Until Tim revealed that although he found you all that way, he left and returned with the other two to find Damian planting a kiss to your cheek.

You were shocked and turned to Damian as your cheeks filled with red. “Is that true?!?”

Your question fell on deaf ears and despite that you knew your answer when Damian turned away and refused to make eye contact.

Let’s just say it was an awkward family breakfast, leaving Damian with everything but his honor and dignity.

[freedomfireflies]

Four to Go*

Summary: The fourth part to One for the Money*

Mr. Styles, your boss (and the CEO of the company you work for), offers to help you expand your OnlyFans business.

But can he watch you sleep with someone else?

Word Count: 7.8k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

Mr. Styles is calm as he slips off his jacket, unfazed by the curious look on Max’s face.

“Uh…all right,” Max replies, sneaking a second glance at you for confirmation. “So, you…you’re just gonna…be here? Or…?”

Mr. Styles nods, taking a seat on the lounge chair near the wall, loosening his tie as he sits. “See, Peach always tends to need a little…encouragement. So, that’s why I’m here.”

He smiles at you, and your heart leaps.

“To give it to her.”

You have absolutely no idea what to say. What to think or feel. Part of you is somewhat comforted by his presence and the other part is wildly confused by it.

“Okay…” Max clears his throat and cocks an eyebrow up. “Well…we were just gonna go over some ground rules—”

“Excellent.” Mr. Styles beams as he leans back. A hand is waved as instruction to continue. “By all means.”

Your lips press together into a thin line.

“All right. I was just gonna ask how you feel about kissing,” Max begins, returning his attention to you. “There’s no right or wrong answer. Sometimes it can make things feel less serious, but it’s up to you.”

“Oh, I’m fine with it,” you say, shrugging once. “It’s just a kiss.”

Out of your peripheral, you catch Mr. Styles tilt his head.

“Okay. And condoms?”

“Yeah, I brought some.”

“Perfect, and I’ve got some, too.” Max looks around the room in thought. “Uh—oh. The safe word. I know we agreed on the color system, but if you have a particular word that feels best…?”

“Color system is fine,” you agree. “I trust you.”

Mr. Styles coughs under his breath.

You look over.

He smirks.

Amused, Max moves for his camera. “All right, then. Do you wanna go over the scene one more time?”

“Uh…honestly? Maybe we just…get right into it,” you answer, slowly slipping your coat off. “I have a tendency to overthink.”

You hear a snort from behind you, and you don’t even have to look to know who it came from. 

“Got it,” Max chuckles, surveying the room one last time. “Well, then…I guess I’m ready when you are?”

Your pulse skips a time or two as you nod and allow your covering to fall away, revealing the outfit underneath.

Another one of Mr. Styles' sets. A soft, pastel peach color. It felt fitting, and the room grows oddly quiet as both men take a moment to drink you in.

Max is the only one with a comment to make, smiling gently as he says, “Nice. And it’s comfortable?”

“Very. Yeah, my investor did an excellent job.”

Mr. Styles smirks at your sly comment while Max laughs.

“Ah, so this is the work of the mysterious gentleman in the corner?”

“Indeed.” You nod as you step closer to the bed. “Turns out, he’s incredibly picky.”

Another scoff but you pay it no mind as you shoot Max an innocent grin and take a seat on the edge of the mattress.

Max fiddles with the camera and the lights a moment more before he clears his throat and claps his hands together once. “All right, I think we’re ready.”

There’s a weird flutter in your stomach as you straighten up and prepare to begin, unable to resist sneaking a glance at your boss.

He’s expressionless. Stoically sitting in his chair, relaxed, yet seemingly uninterested.

It’s not unusual for him, but even still, you wonder where the man who dominated you in your bedroom has disappeared to.

And if you’ll ever see him again.

“You ready?” Max calls gently, smiling his encouragement.

“Yes,” you reply, voice oddly timid as you scoot back toward the pillows. “Ready.”

With that, a little red dot begins to blink from the device, signaling the start to the video.

No going back now.

Max makes his way around the tripod, approaching the bed with a confident gleam in his eye. “Hi, Peach,” he murmurs, rather seductively, and your breath catches. “’S’about time we found our way here, yeah?”

You nod again, lip disappearing between your teeth as he kneels onto the mattress and begins to crawl closer. 

“Look so fucking sweet,” he continues, letting his eyes trail from your face to your thighs, appreciating every thread on your lingerie set. “Did you dress up just for me?”

You fight the urge to look toward your boss, swallowing thickly as you whisper, “Yes.”

His hands find your hips, smoothing over the curves and dips with ease before slowly guiding your legs apart. “Gonna let me have a taste?”

You feel breathless. Wonderstruck by the fingers inching closer to you, the anticipation building in your gut.

“Yes,” you repeat, nails curling into the silk bedding beneath you as he moves in.

He hooks onto the material and slowly begins to pull it aside, allowing him access to your cunt. Then, his thumb outstretches, ready to swipe across your clit when the sound of a throat clearing echoes across the room.

You and Max both still, exchanging a curious look before turning to sneak a glimpse of the man responsible for the interruption.

Mr. Styles stares back, eyebrow raised. “I’m sorry, is that it, then?”

Max pushes up onto his knees. “Pardon?”

Your boss leans forward. “You have her all spread out, ready and willing, and this is the best you can do?”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as Max tosses you a curious expression.

“I mean…this is what we agreed on,” Max replies slowly. “A little foreplay before the rest of it.”

“And this is your idea of foreplay?”

Max blinks. “Uh…yes?”

“Interesting.” His fingers strum against the arm of the chair but he says nothing more.

A little rattled, you shift beneath Max and wait for him to continue.

Tentatively, he does, pushing through your folds with intense focus. He’s slow with it, letting the air hit you just so until you squirm, hand pushing your thigh open.

Vaguely, you feel a pair of eyes studying you from the corner of the room, taking note of each breath and quiver of your limbs.

And you know he’s watching you. Know he’s observing the technique. And while you don’t mind being watched by him, something about this feels odd.

Max straightens up and moves in to kiss you, slotting his knee between your legs as a hand wraps around the back of your neck.

His tongue is in your mouth before your eyes can close, and you whimper a bit at the aggressive force behind his touch. 

He’s quite good. One of the better men you’ve been with, and nothing has even happened yet. You take this as a good sign, allowing yourself to melt into the gesture as his fingers fiddle with the buckle on his belt.

There’s another condescending snort near the wall, and Max sighs against your cheek before turning around. “Yes?”

“Nothing.” There’s a touch of innocence behind his response but the look in his eye reads anything but. “That’s just not how she likes it.”

You feel the blood drain from your face as Max smirks and looks back at you. “Sorry, Peach. Is that not how you like it?”

“It is,” you confirm, shooting a peeved look toward the chair. “Ignore him, I’m sorry.”

Max smiles gently before pressing another kiss to your bottom lip while tugging his pants down.

He manages to get his boxers around his knees before there’s another noise, and you audibly groan.

“Now what?” Max calls, slightly annoyed but attempting to maintain a bit of calm.

Mr. Styles lifts one shoulder in a relaxed shrug. “Just think it wouldn’t hurt to slow down.”

Max lets his head drop, chin meeting his chest as he sighs before replying, “Is that right?”

“Nobody is watching this video for you,” Mr. Styles continues. “They’re watching it for her. They want to see the way she reacts. How she feels. Your cock is nothing more than the sideshow. She…is the main event.”

There’s a weird sort of flutter in your stomach as you let your focus drift to the man near the wall. 

Max exhales beneath his breath before straightening up. “All right. Then how do you suggest we proceed?”

Not needing to be asked twice, Mr. Styles stands to his feet and saunters toward the bed. “For starters…” A hand comes out to grasp onto Max’s jaw, tugging his face to the side. “…that’s not how she likes to be kissed.”

Wincing some, Max shoots him a glare while attempting to yank himself free. “Yeah? And how would you know?”

A rather excellent question, and your breath hitches as you await the response.

Mr. Styles doesn’t even look at you as he says, “I’m her fucking partner.”

Another tense silence flitters around the room before Max is finally released.

“And let me guess…I’m touching her wrong, too?” he counters, leaning away from you as Mr. Styles straightens up.

“Yes.” A simple response but the bite behind his tone makes you shiver. 

Max scoffs to himself, head shaking with disbelief as he pulls his boxers back up. “Well, maybe it would just be easier if you did it, hm?”

“It would. But then it wouldn’t be your video, now, would it?”

“Mr. Styles,” you begin in a gentle murmur, “please…it’s fine—”

“Doesn’t look fine,” is his only retort, nodding at the gentleman still kneeling above you. “Is this what they pay you for, then? Mediocre sex and cheap camera work?”

“This is what Peach and I agreed on,” Max reminds him. “All right? This is the scene that we created—”

“Nothing about this scene was constructed for her benefit,” Mr. Styles replies. “And if you knew anything about her content, you would know that her audience likes to see her squirm.”

“Well we’re not just catering to her audience, okay? This is about my audience, too—”

“Last time I checked, her subscriber count doubled yours. The majority of viewers won’t be for you. They’ll be for her—”

“Right, and that’s why she’s the one in the frame, all right? I know what I’m fucking doing—”

“No.” Another straightforward answer, and it makes your head spin. “No, you don’t. And I don’t think that’s fair to her or her subscribers. They shouldn’t have to pay for your incompetence.”

Max looks to you. “Is he fucking serious?”

“I—” You push up onto your elbows, feeling a little exposed in your see-through garment. “Mr. Styles, I appreciate the thought. But he’s right. This was part of the plan—”

“Your plan was to fake your orgasm just so he could nut on film?” 

Both you and Max still as this reply hangs in the air.

Then, Max crawls off the mattress, and stands to his feet. “Okay, you know what? I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

“Max…” you attempt to call, feeling rather embarrassed as he begins gathering his things. “Look, he doesn’t mean it—”

“No, I do,” Mr. Styles interjects, ignoring your peeved look of warning.

Max ignores you both.

He strides around the hotel room, throwing things into his duffel before turning the camera off and packing it up.

You attempt to shoot daggers toward your boss, a silent scold, but he simply meets your eye with relaxed indifference.

“Listen, Peach, you seem nice,” Max sighs, moving for the door with his things while shooting you a sympathetic grin. “And I appreciate you for even meeting with me. But…these things never work when the boyfriend gets involved. So, just…enjoy the room. It’s all yours for the night if you’d like it. And…I look forward to maybe working with you in the future.”

Your stomach drops as you nod and watch him exit the room, disappearing into the hallway until you’re left with the perpetrator.

All of fifteen minutes he’d managed to keep his mouth shut, and you huff as you sit up. “Seriously?” you mumble the moment the door is closed.

He leans back against the dresser, regarding you with ease. “That was pathetic, and you know it.”

“How? He hadn’t even done anything yet.”

“Exactly.”

You frown. “Mr. Styles, I really appreciate all of your help. But you were the one that told me this would be good for my account.”

“And it could have been. Just not with him.”

“What was so wrong with him?”

“He wasn’t doing it right.”

“Why? Just because he wasn’t doing it like you?”

“If he’s not doing it the way I would have, he’s doing it wrong.”

Your lips part but you find yourself without a response. After all, what exactly does he expect you to say?

He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. But you can do better than him. Even in porn.”

“Right,” you snort under your breath, settling against the headboard and pulling your knees to your chest. “Well…guess it doesn’t matter now. I’ll just go back to my vibrating cock. Seems to be the only thing people really like.”

You’re attempting to lighten the mood, but Mr. Styles only offers you a rather contemplative look.

“Is that right?” he calls.

You suck in a quiet inhale and nod once. “Yeah. I mean, technically that wasn’t the only thing they liked, but…”

His brow raises.

You clear your throat. “You. They liked you.”

This seems to amuse him, his perfectly pink lips pulling up into a coy grin. “Me.”

“Yeah.” You glance down at your nails. “They, uh…liked your voice? And your…hands? And the way you talked? I guess? It was, um…the main feedback. They wanted to see you in more videos.”

The smug bastard is much too pleased to hear this, practically beaming as he studies you. “They did, did they?”

“Mhm.” You nod, cheeks warming. “So…you’ve got fans.”

“How nice.” He runs a hand along his jaw in thought, smile still much too wide. “And were you happy with the video?”

The million-dollar question. Truth be told, it’s the first video of yours that you’ve ever willingly watched more than once. You can still hear his instructions ring between your ears. Can feel his hands on your thighs. Can taste yourself on his fingers.

“Yes,” you reply quietly, shifting a bit in your spot. “It was…it was really good. I like how it came together.”

“You watched it?”

“…yes.”

“I thought you didn’t like to watch yourself come.”

“Yeah, well…this was different.”

His head tilts. “How so?”

You toss him a frown. He knows exactly why, and you hate his insistence on making you spell it out. “Why do you think?”

“Could be a number of reasons.”

“Except it’s not, and you know it.”

“Perhaps. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You huff again. “I just like what we did, okay? It was a nice video, a nice scene, and a nice sound bite. Happy?”

Once again, that dark eyebrow dances up, his expression twisting into one of curious intrigue. “Sound bite?”

Shit. Your eyes flicker back down to your hands. “I mean…yeah. You do have a nice voice. Sounds…sounds great on film.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “You like listening to me talk?”

Again, you feel your pulse skip over its own rhythm as you attempt to convey nonchalance. “Sure.”

But he’s unconvinced by your casualness, pushing off the dresser to step closer to you. “Is that why you were watching the video, then? To listen to me?”

You want to respond but your whole mouth has gone numb.

“Were you using my voice to get off, Peach?” he murmurs, the scent of his cologne finally reaching you as he approaches the bed.

You don’t have to answer for him to know that he’s right. And perhaps you ought to be ashamed of such an admittance, yet…the strange darkness in his expression suggests otherwise.

“Yes,” you breathe, moving your gaze to the white button up clinging to his chest. It’s a rather sheer material, allowing you to see just a taste of his tan skin beneath, and the faint markings of ink from potential tattoos. “Couldn’t help it.”

“No?” He reaches the side of the mattress where you reside, sitting near your feet as he watches you. “Just had to listen to me while you touched yourself, hm?”

He’s so close. So fucking close to you, and the adrenaline you felt that day in your bedroom triples until you feel a bit faint.

“Yes,” you repeat, but it’s strained and airy. You don’t mean to sound so weak, but he always seems to leave you this way.

“How?” His attention to your face pulls you back. “How did you touch yourself? Did you do it the way you always do? Or did you do it the way I do?”

Your focus falls to your lap but he quickly takes hold of your chin to hoist your eyes back up. 

 “Peach,” he warns, “need you to tell me, yeah? Need to hear you say it.”

And you want to huff. Or scream. Or ball your hands into fists and pound on his chest in retaliation.

Instead, you whisper, “Touched myself the way you told me to.”

A look of pride flashes across his face. “Did you?”

A soft nod. “Yes. Imagined you there with me.”

He drops his attention to your lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sit up, desperate to bring yourself closer to him. Magnetized by this invisible pull. “Thought about your voice. Your hands. What you would have asked me to do. Wanted to make you proud…be good for you.”

He releases a deep breath, lashes fluttering as if working to keep his grip on his self-control. “Peach…”

“Almost called you,” you admit, fingers outstretching for his knee. “Almost asked for your business advice.”

He tightens his grip on your jaw, leg pushing into your touch.

“Watched it over and over and over.” Your palm glides up his thigh. “Thought about you through every fucking second.”

His expression grows stern as the vile language leaves your mouth, and you can see his dominant demeanor slip through the cracks.

“Just wanted to feel you, Sir,” you whimper, and his breath hitches. “Wanted your cock. Not the toy. Not his. Just you.”

It’s dizzying how quickly he manages to take hold of your hips and force you onto his lap, lacy cunt grinding against his covered bulge.

You both make a noise of approval, your forehead meeting his as you steady yourself by his shoulders.

“Is that right?” he finally speaks, but it’s coarse like gravel.

“Yes.” Your nails dig into his jacket. “It’s not the same when it’s just me.”

“No,” he agrees instantly. “No, how can it be? Such a pretty little thing doesn’t know what she’s doing. Needs someone to do it for her.”

You’re tugging on your lip to cover a whine, nodding quickly in agreement.

“Needs someone to take care of her, yeah?” His nose nudges into yours, taunting you with a kiss that you aren’t sure he’ll actually give you. “Tell her how to make Daddy happy?”

Your thighs are dragged over his for a second time as he grinds you down, forcing another wave of pleasure to roll over you.

“Wanna make me happy, don’t you?” he asks, and it’s so cruel of him to expect your coherence in a moment like this. “Always want my approval. My permission. Wanna do anything I fucking tell you, hm?”

“Yes…yes, please—”

“Please what, hm?” A beat as he inhales you. “What do you want, honey?”

You press your chest into his, gasping when the rings in your nipples are harshly stimulated. “Want you to tell me what I want.”

And he grins like this is the best thing he’s ever heard, hands tightening around your hips rather possessively. “Think you want my cock, don’t you? Want someone to do it right.”

You do. Have never wanted anything more, and it nearly makes your stomach ache from the thought of finally having him in a way you never thought you could.

There’s a brief moment of pause, the implication of your position and request dangling in the already tense air.

His lips are so close, taunting you with a taste, and it takes everything in you not to surge forward and take him for yourself.

He shifts, cock bucking up into your cunt as you sigh again, and just when you think this is the moment the dam breaks, he says, “Did you bring your camera?”

With a racing heart, you nod quickly, glancing toward your bag in the corner of the room.

He doesn’t move, at least not for a moment, instead breathing you in as he thinks. “Where is it?”

“There,” mumble, chin jutting toward the wall.

This time, he nods, squeezing your hips once more before taking a deep inhale and moving you off his lap.

It feels like the end of the goddamn world to have him rip his body from yours, and your chest nearly caves in as you watch him move for your things.

He rummages around in the bag until he finds the camera and tripod, moving to the other side of the bed to begin setting up.

It’s a different angle than Max had picked, and something tells you this is intentional. Whether this is out of spite or because he genuinely disapproved of Max’s camerawork, you aren’t sure. 

You study him as he straightens the device and faces the lens toward the bed. Wonder yet again who this man really is. What his motivation is. What his intentions are. You’ve seen a side of him today you weren’t sure existed and despite yourself, you’re becoming addicted to it.

But is this just a ruse? Or is this who he really is?

“Look at me,” he calls, and it’s a dark, sensual instruction. “Good girl.”

He focuses on your face, making sure everything that needs to be in the frame is, and once he’s satisfied, he straightens up.

“I’m gonna hit record,” he tells you while your heart leaps into your throat. “What you choose to do with it is up to you.”

Your lips roll into your mouth, and you scoot back into the pillows. “Okay.”

The moment the red dot begins to flash, the air in the room shifts.

Your pussy practically comes to life as he side-steps into frame, slowly pulling his suit jacket off.

“Hi, Peach,” he murmurs, and your eyes zero in on his shoulders as they’re revealed to you. “Been a while, hm?”

Exactly one week and two days.

Not that you’ve been counting.

You stay silent as he approaches, desperately enthralled by his body as more and more of it is exposed.

He tosses the covering toward the other side of the bed before flicking the first couple of buttons on his shirt open.

“Know you missed me, haven’t you?” he continues, his back to the camera as he kneels on the bed. “Needed someone to take care of you.”

Your chest rises and falls with labored, anxious breaths. It’s torture the way he slowly crawls from the end of the bed to where you wait, taking his sweet time like if you aren’t about to pass out from anticipation. 

 Glimpses of his tattoos peek from beneath the collar of the white cotton fabric, teasing you with ideas as he finally reaches your legs, forcing your attention back.

“Isn’t that right?” he asks, just loud enough for the mic to pick him up.

“Yes,” you mewl, correcting yourself when you see his stern expression. “Yes, sir.”

“I know.” His fingers curl around your ankles, tugging your thighs apart to make room for his body. “Shame you didn’t ask me sooner.”

You consider this. Consider if this is part of the scene or an actual comment from Mr. Styles himself.

Either way, it makes you pout. “Should have,” you agree. “M’sorry, sir.”

The extra helping of compliance in your tone makes his mouth dance up into a proud grin. 

He settles himself between your legs, reaching now for your wrists to bring them to his chest. “Take off my shirt.”

And it’s an instruction you don’t need to hear twice as you shoot up and begin pawing at his buttons.

Despite your shaky fingers, you manage to pull the tie over his head and free the shirt from his body, anxious to shove it down his arms until you can see his chest in full.

When you do…the world changes.

Colors are brighter, sights are sweeter, life is fuller. The body before you is that of real beauty. Sketched by the steady hand of an artist, each line, and ridge, and curve telling a story you desperately want to read.

It’s as if he were painted on a canvas and brought to life, your own work of art sitting right before you on this bed, asking you to indulge him.

Without thought, your palms sweep down his tan skin, drinking in the dips and edges that make up his torso. 

He’s strong, and warm, and effortlessly sturdy. The ink littering his collarbone is delicate yet expressive. Two sparrows on each side with a butterfly just below his sternum. 

It moves when he breathes, wings fluttering with the rhythm of his heart. You can’t tear your eyes away, and even though you feel him watching, you can’t move past this moment. Can’t fathom anything else but the divinity of the man between your thighs. 

He smiles, pushing his body into your hands before grabbing hold of your hip. “Gonna show them your little surprise?”

Your head moves up and down wordlessly as he takes hold of your lingerie set and pulls the material down.

As it falls, he scoots to the side, allowing the camera to find you as your tits are revealed to the audience.

The rings shimmer in the light flittering through the hotel curtains, the initials—his initials—like a badge of honor to claim you to the world.

“So pretty, Peach,” he tells you, not for the first time, yet it makes your ego swell the same way it had before. “Like being mine, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you say without pause. “Wanna be yours. Always.”

He hums, and it’s delicious. Soft green eyes like grass on a summer day.

He kneads your breast in his palm, letting his thumb ghost over the piercing until you keen, back arching from the bed.

He makes another noise, soft but urgent, and you can see that his attempt at dragging the scene out is all for not. 

His other hand moves to your cunt, rough fingertip pressing into your clit through the lacy fabric until you’re squirming. He swallows your whispers for more, for mercy, and his brows furrow when he feels how wet you’ve become.

“Lay down,” he nearly grits, practically tugging you onto your back. “Let me see you.”

You settle into the mattress with ease, lashes fluttering when he maneuvers onto his stomach. His hands curl around your legs, forcing them further open to make room for his head as his nose brushes down the fabric on your stomach.

He’s moving for your pussy, lips sweeping across every inch of you he can reach before hovering over where your clit lies. 

His tongue comes out and presses into your cunt, despite the covering in the way, and you whine when you feel him. Warm, and wet, and pointed as the tip slides up just to tease you.

“Sir,” you gasp, but it’s his name you’re desperate to say. His real name, the beautiful H still shimmering from your chest, seeming to taunt you.

He hums, and the vibrations echo into your nerve endings, setting each sense on fire. You attempt to move away from his mouth, but his strong hold keeps you cemented to the bed and his firm expression keeps you submissive.

He creates a pattern of licking and sucking. Rhythmic yet purposeful. And the skill behind each nudge of his nose or flick of his tongue far exceeds what you expected of him. 

His nails sink into your heated skin, practically forcing you against his lips until the flesh tears, crescent-shaped indents now littering your thighs. 

And he’s so close to tasting you but not quite close enough. You’re not sure who this tortures more, but you hate the way he keeps you from what you truly want. What you need.

Your hands find his curls, sweeping through the auburn strands as he makes another noise and nuzzles into your touch.

“Please,” you whimper, and it’s a futile attempt at begging but even still, Mr. Styles seems pleased.

More than that, he seems just as unhinged as you feel, rutting into the bed beneath him as he squeezes his eyes shut.

You imagine he might come just from this little act of foreplay, spurred on by your sounds and pleas. But you need to feel him, and he needs to feel you, and there’s no goddamn way either one of you will be leaving this room until his cock has been inside your cunt.

 “Sir,” you try again, tugging on his hair until he looks up. “Please…need you to fuck me. Need it, please—”

He shoots you a displeased sneer, palm slapping into your thigh as punishment for the choice in language.

But you don’t care. Not when he’s this close to conceding, and you know it’s hurting him just as much as it’s hurting you.

 Despite his disapproval, he sits up and begins tugging on his belt, yanking it through the loops before ripping the zipper down.

Your greedy hands reach for him, trailing across his large arms and broad shoulders. Fumbling with his pants in an effort to push them down his legs. Slipping into his briefs just so you can get the faintest feel of his cock.

He’s outrageously hard, already leaking when you find him, and despite his conviction, he bucks into your palm.

The slight twitch makes your head spin, and you whine as you scoot closer.

“Please, please, please,” you beg breathlessly, legs spreading once more as he pulls himself free. 

The cool air sends a wave of goosebumps from your neck to your toes, but it’s the sight of him in his own hand that really does it.

Pumping himself with delicate precision, he hisses between clenched teeth, “S’this what you want, Peach? Want Daddy’s cock?”

The voice inside your head is screaming but your mouth merely mumbles, “So bad, sir. Need you to make it better.”

He pushes on your leg, cementing it to the mattress while his other fingers hook onto your outfit to pull it away from your dripping pussy.

He seems mesmerized by the way your body reacts to him, and you have to wonder why he’s so surprised. You imagine it should be obvious the effect he has on you, yet the fascination in his eye leads you to believe he never considered this to be a possibility. 

“My perfect peach,” he whispers, letting his finger drag through you. You jolt, moaning deep within the back of your throat as he brings his cock closer. “Gonna feel so fucking good for me, aren’t you? Can already tell. Gonna be my good girl.”

He spreads you, studying your pussy with fascination. Allowing his touch to move up and down your soaked folds while he plays with you. As though you’re a toy, meant only for his amusement. 

And he’s so wonderstruck as he moves your arousal around, letting it web between his fingers before teasing your hole.

One digit is sweet, but two is ecstasy. Reminding you of just how empty you really are. How badly you need him. All of him.

He works himself in and out for at least two minutes, just to see you stretch for him. And the way he watches you makes your ears ring, your cheeks growing hot.

He could keep you here forever, you imagine. Could make you come from this alone, and you have half a mind to let him.

But you enjoy the feeling of his fingers curling inside your soft walls. Enjoy the way he strokes you, pets you, presses into you. You want to kiss his hand for being so wonderful. For being so generous, and maybe you want to kiss him, too.

The faster his fingers move, the harder you sink. Your muscles dissolve into jelly, and you nearly disappear through the bed when he places a knee onto your thigh.

He’s using his weight to trap you, keep you pliable, keep you submissive. And it works because you don’t consider doing anything else as he finally removes his hand and lines himself up.

“Breathe,” he orders, taking hold of your hip to steady you and angle you up. “Easy, honey. Gotta open you up for me, yeah?”

He pushes in slowly, inching forward with great restraint as your walls stretch around him, mold to him, invite him in. You’ve gone quiet, jaw dropped open in an empty, soundless pant. But he knows what this means, and the bastard smirks as he continues.

Halfway in, and your cunt has latched onto him. Squeezing him so tight, you can see the torture of it on his face. He’s trying to take it easy, be gentle. Make this at least somewhat pleasurable for you but he’s only a man. An older gentleman at that, and it seems as though he wasn’t expecting to lose himself so fast.

“More,” you mewl, wiggling down. “More, sir, please….please, just…go.”

You greedily reach for his shoulders, his neck, his hair. Wanting to wrap your arms and legs around his body and hold him inside of you until this ache goes away.

And he seems to want this, too, driving in a bit faster than before as if to satiate you.

“M’almost there, Peach, be patient,” he scolds, but you can tell the threat is empty. “Gotta make this pretty pussy mine, yeah? Gotta show you what a real cock feels like.”

And maybe his cock isn’t purple, and maybe it doesn’t vibrate, but my god does it scratch that itch. Reaches places inside of you that a silicone one never could and it’s his. The only thing that really matters.

He smells like money and expensive aftershave. Addicting in every sense of the word, and you whine again when he stills.

“Easy,” he warns, attempting to shoot you a stern look, but it dissipates when he sees how ruined you are. “Be good, my love, come on.”

And this nickname makes your heart burst as you whimper and melt into the silk sheets.

He’s almost there, maybe an inch or two from being completely sheathed within your cunt. But he throws all decorum to the side when he decides to ram himself forward, filling you to the hilt as his lips suddenly crash into yours.

The kiss is salty yet oddly sweet. His tongue has traces of you, but it also tastes like him, and both of you together is something you couldn’t have anticipated. 

It’s a messy connection, wet and a bit uncoordinated for only a moment before he figures out a rhythm he likes. 

You scratch down his scalp almost as if to discourage him from leaving you, moaning while your body works to accommodate his size. 

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t attempt to pull back before you’re ready, and you’re grateful for this courtesy in a moment so heated. You aren’t sure if you’re in control of your own mind anymore, but you enjoy following his lead.

You always have.

When he nips at your bottom lip, you’re reminded of how bad you need him. Need that release, and you slip your free leg around his bare hip. “Please,” you whisper, nose nudging into his cheek. “Please, Daddy.”

He groans at the nickname, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he eases back, just gentle enough to torture you.

And so begins the languid but deviously hard pace. A cadenced set of thrusts so deliciously slow, it makes your lungs ache. 

Each pull out and push in seems to rip you in half, introducing you to the kind of pleasure you’d only ever heard about.

It feels as though this is what has always been missing from your life. This kind of sex, this kind of understanding, this kind of prowess. 

And maybe it’s just his cock, or maybe it’s him, but it doesn’t matter because you’ll take it. Take anything this man offers you, and you’ll thank him for it.

Perhaps a rather uncouth thought, but you’ll correct yourself tomorrow. 

Today, you’re his. 

“Taking me so well, Peach,” he grunts, hips knocking into yours as he slips an arm beneath your waist. “Look at you, honey. So fucking wet, you hear that? Hear the way you sound for me?”

And you do. How could you not? It echoes around the room, bounces between the walls, and fills your ears like a harmony. 

You imagine this might be your favorite part. Listening to the way your body has welcomed him in. You can feel it dripping down to your ass, can see it on his skin, can practically taste it still on his tongue.

Your back arches, chest knocking into his, and the brush of the rings makes you writhe. A squirmy movement that benefits you both as he growls beneath a strained breath and drives in at a harder pace.

“Bet it feels good, yeah?” He captures your mouth with his. “Bet it’s so fucking good. Bet you’ve never had someone fuck you like this, have you?”

With a fervent shake of your head, you wrap your arms around his neck and move to kiss down his jaw. “No, Daddy.”

The arm beneath you coils a bit tighter. “I can tell. This poor, pretty pussy just doesn���t know what to do, hm? Can’t do anything but take it.”

Sweat trickles between your bodies, and it’s salty on your taste buds as you lick the spot below his ear. 

You almost swear you hear him purr from the feel of your lips, and it makes your heart soar to know he’s so enamored.

“Show them,” he seethes, the blades of his shoulders rippling beneath your hands. “Show them how good it feels to be fucked right.”

Your head drops back, heavy from the weight of your lust before you manage to look toward the camera.

Already you can see the influx of comments about the man between your legs. Praising him, idolizing him, thirsting after him.

And with your eyes on the lens, you lift your mouth to his, sucking on his tongue with great purpose as you remind the audience who he really belongs to.

After all, his initials are emblazoned across your chest. His mark, his claim, his property.

Whether or not that follows you both outside of this room doesn’t matter. Right now, right here, in this moment…he is yours.

His hips snap forward and he’s losing the battle fast, unable to keep himself from fucking into you with a fervent need for release.

But you certainly don’t mind because the angrier he gets, the harder he goes…the more infatuated you become. 

And he’s hitting that spot over and over and over. Like it’s his job, like he always knew where to find it, how to please you. Stars scatter behind your eyelids and you’re drenching his cock and the sheets and his fingers the moment they attach to your clit.

The room fills with sex and whimpers and determined thrusts that have the bed shaking. Nothing else exists but this. Just this. Just him.

“Come on,” he breathes, pinching you between his fingers, tweaking the sensitive nerves until you nearly scream. “Come on, Peach. Let go for Daddy. Let me feel you come on my cock.”

“Please,” you cry because it’s far too overstimulating for you to think straight. It almost hurts, and you writhe beneath his hand. “Please, can’t—”

“But you will,” he tuts, thumb pressing into your clit as though punishing it. “You will because you’re my good girl. Aren’t you? Do exactly what I say, don’t you?”

Your head rolls back into the pillows, spine arching as you whisper, “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He removes his arm from under your waist so he can go back up to your chest, pulling on your tit until tears actually gather in your lashes. “Go on, then. Fucking give it to me.”

You can feel the cool brush of his rings against your skin, but the moment you look down at his hands, it hits you.

Unraveling faster than you ever have, you clench around him, and finally release that scream. It’s the strongest one you believe you’ve ever experienced, and it seems to last an eternity as he continues fucking into you. 

Then, his hand is on your jaw, tugging something fierce until your eyes meet.

“Look at me,” he whispers, knee still digging into your thigh as his weight keeps you caught in the pleasure. “Look at me, honey. Let me see you come.”

Tears fall from your cheeks and into his hands, almost burning your skin as you shudder around his cock.

You can see the repercussions of it on his face. Can see how connected you two have become in this singular moment.

He’s seconds away from following, and just when you begin to revel in the thought of feeling him fill you…he pulls out.

Straightening up, he takes his cock in his hand, and with a quick, firm pump, he comes all over your tits.

Nothing will ever be able to describe the wave of adoration you feel as you watch him release himself. The knitting of his eyebrows together in pure, unadulterated bliss or the flush in his cheeks as he groans.

His lips are so very pink and swollen, and the expression on his face, like something out of a museum. Structured and beautiful and the perfect showcase of exactly how good he feels right now.

And you watch as the nipple rings—his initials—are drenched in the sticky substance. It looks like art, painted across your chest in featherlike strokes. 

The camera catches everything, allowing the audience the best view of his contribution. You imagine it’ll be something you’ll rewatch for years to come. A screenshot engraved in your mind for the rest of time.

You hum contently, eyelids growing heavy as you admire his work, and just when you think the moment is dwindling down, he dips down.

His tongue swipes over your breast, collecting himself on his lips as you groan and push up into his mouth.

He makes a noise himself, both hands gluing to your ribcage as he pulls you closer and keeps you still.

He licks at you like you’re a popsicle on a hot day, smearing his come over your skin, your lingerie set, and his chin. 

“So good, Peach,” he murmurs between sucking your nipple into his mouth. “Could fucking stay here all day.”

Once again, your fingers brush through his curls, lazily this time. Almost as if trying to relax him. Thank him.

“Please do,” you whisper, almost as if to yourself, but the softening of his expression tells you he heard.

With one final kiss to your tit, he moves back up and takes hold of your jaw.

His fingers press into your cheeks, right beside your lips as a silent instruction for you to open. 

You do, immediately sticking out your tongue for his offering as he leans down.

The spit and come dribble down deliciously slow but the moment they make contact, you whimper.

He keeps his hold on your face, watching as it sits in your mouth, seeming to enjoy the sight of your full submission. 

Then, he squeezes. “Swallow.”

You do, quite greedily, and the second it’s down your throat, he’s kissing you again.

And it’s different this time because he’s no longer inside of you. No longer fucking you or showing off for the camera.

He’s kissing you just to kiss you and it makes your head spin as you disappear into his unspoken display of affection.

“My sweet girl,” he says against your lips, and it makes you smile. “Sweet like a peach, hm?”

You giggle into his cheek, nuzzling into him as though his touch is the only thing that can save you. 

And maybe it is.

“Thank you,” you finally say, nipping at his earlobe until he smirks.

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Fucking me?”

He laughs as he smooths his palm down your side, drinking in your feverish body as the camera watches.

“Just trying to be a good business partner,” he retorts, and it makes your stomach flutter.

You lean back to meet his eye, already feeling sheepish. “Mr. Styles?”

“Hm?” His focus drifts to your forehead as he absentmindedly brushes back your hair. 

“I wouldn’t be…opposed to doing that again,” you admit with a sheepish grin.

And for a moment, he’s amused, staring at you with a look you aren’t sure you recognize but absolutely adore. 

Then, his smile falls, and a frown settles over his face. A sad kind of expression that changes the afternoon on a dime.

Suddenly, he’s sitting up and scooting back, tucking himself into his pants before snatching his shirt from the bed.

You watch, confused and a little unsure as he begins packing his things in the same way Max had. 

“I’m…I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” you venture timidly, arms crossing over your chest in an attempt at covering. 

He doesn’t reply. He simply turns off the camera and redoes his belt, eyes trained everywhere but you.

“I was just…I was kidding. We don’t have to do that again, I just…I thought—”

“It’s fine.” His tone is clipped. Short and straight to the point. He sounds the way he always does yet it makes your heart sink.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” you try again, but his head merely shakes.

“You didn’t.” Another vague and frustrating answer. “I just have somewhere I need to be.”

However, you know his schedule inside and out, personal and professional, and you know that he specifically kept today wide open.

Still, he pulls on his jacket and runs a hand through his hair, attention drifting toward the door. Eyeing his escape.

You bite back a sigh. “Uh…okay, well, thank you. Again. For your help.”

He nods, finally glancing over. But he’s not looking at you the way he was before. Now, it’s hollow. Void of any understanding and care. “I told you I’d help, and I meant it.”

“Right.” And now he’s done. “Sure, yeah. Okay. So I’ll…see you Monday?”

Another nod, this time quiet. You can see that he’d like to add something else, but his lips purse together, keeping his secrets locked away.

“Monday,” he finally repeats, moving for the exit. “I expect you to be on time.”

You stare at his back as he opens the door, silently pleading with him to turn around. To look at you one last time. Not leave like this.

He hesitates, hand gripping the handle, knuckles going white. He’s halfway into the hallway and your breath hitches.

Then, he disappears through the frame.

And the door slams shut. 

ONE MORE PART, I WILL BE SOBBING TBH

Next Part:

~ Five to Go Live*

Previous Part:

~ Three to Make Ready*

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

And a shout-out to @fkinavocado for helping me plan! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @indierockgirrl @narry-heart @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @likeapplejuicenpeach @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever

(If your name is highlighted it's because Tumblr won't let me tag you, it's very weird and I don't understand it but I tried, I promise 😭💞)

[justporo]

Lost between the covers

When outside a blizzard is raging, there is nothing better than cuddling up with your vampire for a little reading date, right? Well, if you can pick a book to agree on...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Written for the "Getting cozy" prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge. Shortly ago I wrote a little thing about Astarion and books - and then immediately knew I had to write more about it for the fluff challenge. The bad erotica short stories thing was inspired by another post (I'll link if I can find it, if someone has it, please halp, I can't find anything on this hellsite) and also ofc there have been several posts going around on how Astarion is a Drizzt fan.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1,4k ~~~

The burning logs crackled in the fireplace while the flames licked on them and flickering warm light filled your living room. Outside a snow storm had been raging the whole day and hadn't stopped even when night had fallen. Wind was howling around the house, and little specks of ice were thrown so hard by the gusts, they made clattering noises against the big living room window.

It didn't bother you at all. You didn’t even spare it any attention at all anymore. The rising and ebbing of the howling wind and the crackling of the fire had become nothing but pleasant background noise.

You were all cosily snuggled up on Astarion's lap, legs swung over his, head on the vampire's shoulder, a blanket wrapped thoroughly around you. The pale elf’s feet were comfortably crossed over each other at the ankles on the floor. His head slightly rested on the crown of yours and he had put his arms lightly around your frame while holding a small leatherbound book he was reading to you from.

The whole scene was just complete and utter bliss - you didn’t remember the last time you had felt such serene peace. Perhaps you never had.

And if you would have asked him, Astarion would have told you very much the same. The vampire might never get used to the feeling of having you close, feeling the warmth of your body slowly seeping into his own as you relaxed into him, fully trusting him. He’d never known or shared this kind of closeness with anyone before.

And he wouldn’t give it up anymore for anything in the world - not even for being able to walk in the sun again.

At first Astarion had made a fuss when you had started to climb on his lap like a cat. But you'd been feeling rather sick for a while now and felt you were entitled to some pampering from your partner. And of course Astarion actually loved that he was that to you: the person you came to because he was your safe haven - not to mention the love of your life. 

But the vampire still had wrestled you off his lap once more while you had pouted.

“Ah ah, patience, my darling. I'm only setting us up so we can stay all neatly cuddled up for the rest of the night,” he'd lectured you and had inclined his head towards you while doing a little bow.

“I don't know, Astarion, you being the one talking about having patience somehow feels cynic to me,” you'd replied and wrapped your arms around you to stay warm.

Astarion's eyes had narrowed dangerously at you, tongue in cheek, before he had turned on his heel and left without another word. You probably had only made him take his sweet time now. With a sigh you had sunk back onto the piece of furniture

He had returned some time later with a stack of different books under his arm, a cup of hot tea for you and some mulled wine for himself.

Astarion had scoffed at first at the premise of drinking “fine wine ruined with spices and fruit, my love - why not immediately make me drink juice with seasoning, ugh.” But then he had started to enjoy it quite quickly.

You scurried to make place for your vampire on the sofa. Then putting the mugs down on the small table beside the couch, the vampire sat down beside you again, balancing books of different size and condition on his legs.

“So, tell me my love, what shall we read?”, he asked cheerfully while you just eyed the stack of books on his lap - they were in your spot.

Astarion looked at you cockily, eyebrows raised, waiting for you to give a response. You just slowly blinked at him. Your brain was mushy and foggy from being sick - you weren't up to make important choices, but you tried to pull yourself together. Astarion was awful at downplaying how excited he seemed to just snuggle up with you on the couch with a book and you surely wanted to indulge him.

“Well, what's on offer?”, you finally asked in response.

Astarion jumped right back into action with a pleased grin: “I'm so glad you asked, my love.”

He lifted up the first one of the books: small, blue, golden lettering on the front and spine. “We have a nice small volume of poetry - the writing is a bit too sappy for my liking, personally, but this poet's been all the rave lately, so I had to form an opinion on that of course.”

“Of course,” you chimed in with a knowing little smile. It was insanely cute to you how much enthusiasm the vampire had for literature.

You had drawn your legs up to sit on them and were now leaning your elbow on your knees, chin in your hand, looking at Astarion who lifted up the next book - a huge, very old looking, leather-bound tome.

“We have one of the most holistic and elaborate accounts of history of our wondrous city of Baldur’s Gate”, the vampire went on, putting on some scholarly demeanour. Gods, he almost reminded you of Gale for a second. You blinked a few times to get that out of your head.

Then you eyed the dusty and crumbly book with a scrunched up nose: “You don’t really want to read that, do you?”

Astarion looked at you in confusion: “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Nerd”, you simply said. “Next!”

The vampire’s red gaze narrowed at you in distaste. He still held up the huge leatherbound chronicles in his hands.

“One comment about how I grew up on the streets and am uncultured, Astarion, and I will bite you!”, you threatened and stuck a finger in his face.

Immediately the pale elf put on a smug grin. “Would be a nice change for once, don’t you think?”, he muttered in a sultry tone while you just rolled your eyes and groaned. “But alright, I understand that the audience may be a little… overwhelmed with this suggestion”, he continued in one of his insufferable ways and went to carefully place down the huge tome on the wooden floor.

You still felt like you had been made fun of but you let it slide for now.

“Alright, next up we have this titillating collection of obnoxiously bad erotica short stories,” Astarion continued and lifted up a much smaller book again - this one bound in linen in a deep red colour. The vampire was back at grinning lewdly at you, one eyebrow lifted high.

“Is this where you got all your lines from?”, you asked dryly.

Astarion’s expression immediately turned sour. “Alright, we’re not reading this one”, he said in a flat tone, glowering angrily at you. He threw the book over his shoulder and heard how it clattered to the ground - always so dramatic.

Meanwhile you had started cackling so much you had to bury your face in your hand for a moment. Under his breath you heard Astarion mutter something about why he hadn’t “just chosen about anyone else to manipulate and end up with”.

Quickly, you went to lean forward and grab his face to cherish it with a kiss. Despite his still disgusted face the pale elf welcomed the loving attention. When you pulled away you kept holding his face in your hands: “You’re stuck with me, love.”

“Good thing, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else then”, Astarion replied and leaned in again for another kiss.

Afterwards,sitting up straight again, Astarion sighed dreamily while his eyes lingered on you.

“What’s the last one?”, you asked after a while of the vampire seemingly just getting lost in your eyes.

“Hm?” he made, raising his eyebrows. Then he shook his head softly to focus again while you grinned to yourself knowingly.

Astarion lifted up the last pick in his stack of books he’d brought: “Well, the last one is another adventurous tale of Drizzt Do’Urden.”

Your head perked up when you heard that.

Astarion had introduced you to the legendary tales of Drizzt a while ago now and despite brushing it off at first you had gotten seriously into the stories. And another one of those stories sounded just about right for a stormy winter night and for cuddling up for the rest of the night.

Eagerly, you climbed on Astarion’s lap without any other responses. The vampire just laughed while he allowed you to cosy up to him and finally sealed the deal by putting an arm around you, with his other hand opening up the book already.

“Alright, looks like we have a winner”, he mused playfully and dragged you in a little closer on his lap so he could press another kiss to the top of your head.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

[slut4thebroken]

Erotomania pt. 1

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x yandere!reader

Summary | You’ve been in love with your patient since the first session you had with him and finally make a plan to break him out of Arkham so you can be together forever.

Warnings | Slow burn, angst, lowkey murder lol, reader is a bit delulu, Jon is kinda mean :(

Words | 2.4 k

Notes | First slow burn fic I’ve ever written lmao. We’ll see how it goes

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You’ve been Dr. Crane’s psychiatrist for a few months now. You enjoyed learning about his work, what drove him to such a state, why he is the way he is. But most of all, you enjoyed the way he thought he was manipulating you. You knew what he wanted; someone to break him out of here. You wanted the same thing, but unlike his plan, yours extended past that. 

So for now, you let him think he was manipulating you. It wasn’t too hard since all of his words made you swoon. You stared at him, batting your eyelashes with your chin resting on your hand, listening to him talk and blushing when he complimented you. Sometimes it was your physical appearance, but a lot of the time it was your intelligence. That meant a lot to you coming from a fellow psychiatrist— let alone one who used to be the chief psychiatrist at this very institution. You started working after he was admitted, but you’ve heard the whispers from other coworkers. Part of you thinks that’s why you were assigned to him— because you had no previous relationship with him. 

“I brought you something.” You smiled, grabbing your bag from the floor. 

“Other than the coffee?” He gave you a warm smile back, glancing at the coffee cup you had brought for him. 

“Mhm.” You took out the miniature scarecrow plush and set it on the table, then put your bag back on the floor. He gave you an amused look as he picked it up to examine it. “It’s a little on the nose, but I saw it and it made me think of you.” 

“I love it— A very thoughtful gift… I only wish I could give you something in return.” 

“I don’t need anything. Just talking with you is enough.” You said earnestly. 

“Are you trying to flatter me, doctor?” He asked coyly, making your cheeks heat up. 

“N-no, I just..” You stammered, trying to come up with a response that wouldn’t make you sound like an idiot. 

“Relax, darling. I’m only teasing.” He said and you let out a heavy breath. “Just talking is enough for me too. Our sessions are my favorite part of the entire day. But I appreciate the gifts.”  

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, enjoying his words. 

“I really do wish though that I could give you something too.” His voice was almost solemn. “If I got out of here, I’d get you a gift everyday, to show you how much you mean to me.” He said sweetly, making you blush as you tried to hide a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. 

“I- Maybe I could get you out?” 

“Don’t give me false hope, my dear. I know I’m not worth you potentially losing your job over. I’ve grown content with just our talks.” 

“You are worth it, Jon. And I know you’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed.” You reached across the table and tentatively took his hands in yours. “I’ll get you out of here, then we can be together.” You said quietly, making him smile. 

True to your word, you did get him out. When he tried to gas you with the canister of his fear toxin that you gave him and nothing came out, he looked at you in confusion, but the expression quickly dropped when he saw the handgun aimed at his stomach. 

“Don’t make a scene. I need to get you somewhere safe before anyone notices you.” You drove him to your apartment, having him change into the clothes you brought him before getting out of the car. Once you were inside, you locked the door with the new hardware you installed— it needs a key on both sides. 

“If you scream, someone will call the cops and all my hard work will have been for nothing. Do you understand?” 

“What is this?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“I just made a slight modification to your plan. It’ll be better like this— you’ll be safer.” With him here, he wouldn’t be captured and sent to Arkham again. He’d be able to stay with you. 

“You’re kidnapping me?” 

“What?” You asked, brows scrunching together and lips forming a frown. 

“Can I leave?” 

“No, it’s not safe. I already told you that.” This was not how you pictured this conversation going. 

“So you’re kidnapping me.” He deadpanned, making your frown deepen. 

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice.” You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“For what?” He scoffed. “Taking me from one prison to another?” 

“I did what you wanted! I got you out of there! Now we can be together.” You all but whined, bottom lip trembling because of his reaction. 

“God— if I’d known you belong in that nut house more than me, I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble.” You bit your lip as tears quickly pooled in your eyes. 

“When I come back, I really hope your attitude will have changed.” You warned, walking toward the door. You slammed it shut then locked it again and left to get some air. 

When you returned, a woman was standing outside your door, pacing. Your steps slowed as you eyed her carefully. 

“Oh- you! Can you help me?” She asked you, clearly very distressed. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Well I was standing outside my door, trying to find my key in my purse, and it sounded like someone was messing with the handle, trying to get out. I’m worried someone’s locked in there.” 

“That’s your apartment?” You asked, gesturing to the door across from your own. 

“Yes, that’s how I was able to hear it.” 

“Did you call the police yet?” That would definitely not be good because you didn’t exactly come up with a plan for that scenario…

“No, I just heard it a few minutes ago, I was trying to decide what to do. Should I call them?” You nodded as you thought, looking between the woman and her apartment. 

“That’s probably a good idea. I can help. Your phone’s inside?” 

“Yes.” She said, then hurriedly opened the door and let you in, closing it after you. When she started moving toward the phone, you walked up behind her and took her head in both hands, then turned it as fast and hard as you could. Surprisingly, she dropped to the floor after a loud crack— you weren’t sure you’d be strong enough to do it, but you were glad you actually could. Grabbing a tissue from the counter, you used it to open and close the door before going back inside your apartment. 

“I hope you’re happy.” You said as you locked the door again. “I just had to kill some sweet old lady because of you.” He was sitting on the couch and he looked over at you with poorly concealed shock. 

“What?” 

“She heard you trying to get out from the other side of the door.” You explained, setting down your bag and pocketing your keys. “Pull a stunt like that again and if the cops make me the primary suspect, I’ll say that you forced me to help you escape, then made me give you a place to lay low for a while, and that you were the one who killed her. Do you understand?” He stared at you, probably trying to decide if he really believed you or not. “Jon…” You warned. 

“Yes.” He bit back, making you smile. 

“Thank you. Now, are you hungry?” You walked over to the kitchen and started pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 

“I’m not going to fucking play house with you.” He spat. You sighed and turned back to face him. 

“What more could you possibly need, Jon? I’m supporting us financially, cooking dinner, doing the chores… doing other things too if you want.” You added the last part with a blush. “How is this not enough for you?” 

“Because I don’t want to be locked in here for the rest of my fucking life!” He yelled, making you take in a sharp breath. “I mean, seriously, what is your plan? You just hold me hostage until one of us dies?” 

“You’re not a hostage.” You said quietly. 

“Don’t lie to yourself.” He scoffed. “No matter how much you try to spin it in your head, that’s what this is.” You let out a shaky breath and looked down. 

“You just need time. Then you’ll see that I’m right.” 

“No, what I need is to get the fuck out of here.” 

“Stop it!” You finally snapped. “Stop being like this, Jon. I did this for us— for you!” Deep down, there was a voice telling you that if the roles were reversed, you would’ve switched tactics by now and you’re not sure why he hasn’t yet. He knows the same, if not more than you, about psychology, he should be able to figure that out. 

“Whatever delusion you’ve made in your head is just that; a delusion.” 

“You know what? I’m not hungry anymore. Cook for yourself.” You spat, walking in your room and slamming the door shut. 

He didn’t come in your room that night, but you heard him rummaging around, probably trying to find a spare key. Thankfully it seemed like he was smart enough to not try to kill you since he really would be trapped then. 

You left early in the morning. He remained sitting on the couch, wide awake, while you made coffee and got some breakfast. Before you left you told him to help himself to anything in the kitchen, but he didn’t reply. He barely even glanced at you. 

His actions were starting to lower your spirits a little. You knew he’d probably need a little bit of time to adjust but you didn’t expect him to be so cold. 

When you left work later that evening, you stopped to get some food before going home, hoping this would be a nice peace offering. He was still sitting on the couch, but things were moved around— he was definitely snooping very thoroughly. 

“I brought some food.” You said, hanging your coat up by the door and toeing off your heels, then setting the box on the counter. “Pizza— cheese and pepperoni because I wasn’t sure what you’d like.” 

“I don’t like pizza.” You tried not to be deterred by his tone. 

“Everybody likes pizza.” As you opened the fridge to grab a drink, you noticed that this was one of the few places he hadn’t touched, the sink was void of any dishes too. “Have you eaten at all today?” When he didn’t reply you knew you were right. “I would’ve thought you’d be eager for some real food after being in Arkham for so long.” You commented as you got a plate to put a few slices on. When you sat down on the other end of the couch, he stiffened. “How was your day?” 

He scoffed in response and looked away from you with a scowl. 

“Commissioner Gordon stopped by again. He had a warrant for all of my notes from our sessions.” You took another bite and after you finished chewing, when he didn’t talk, you continued. “That man has one of the most pitiful hero complexes I’ve ever seen. He thinks he can get rid of all of the corruption in the force? In Gotham?” You scoffed a laugh and shook your head in disbelief as you took another bite. “He’s almost as bad as Batman.” You watched his cheek tense as he clenched his jaw. “I’m surprised he didn’t pay Arkham a visit.” 

“Jesus— do you ever stop talking?” He spat, making you frown. 

“I thought you liked our talks.” 

“It’s not my fault you were stupid enough to believe every word I said.” His words made your chest ache and you looked down at the pizza in your hand, feeling your eyes start to burn. 

“You weren’t lying.” You said quietly. You’re trained to know when people are lying, you work with manipulators every single day… you would’ve known. 

“I wanted out of there. I was going to say whatever shit your delusional brain wanted to hear to make that happen.” He said, almost viscously. “I mean, did you seriously think you were actually helping me? I don’t ever think I’ve seen a doctor less competent than you.” For some reason, that jab hurt more than anything else. Maybe it’s because you admired his work as a doctor. Or maybe it’s because he seemed so sincere when he complimented your skill before. But either way, it hurt like hell. 

“I’m competent enough to know how to manipulate you into thinking you had the upper hand.” You muttered, keeping your eyes down. 

He was suddenly lunging at you, slapping the plate out of your hands and grabbing your neck, pushing you down onto the couch. You flinched as the ceramic broke on the floor and he tightened his grip, leaning down over you. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t fucking kill you right now.” He hissed. “Maybe I wouldn’t find the key and I’d die, but at least I wouldn’t have to listen to your annoying fucking voice anymore.” Your stomach churned at the fact that he'd rather die than be here with you. This isn’t even close to how it was supposed to go. 

You let out a choked sob and his expression twisted into one of disgust. Once you started though, it only got worse. The second you were full on sobbing, he recoiled away from you and went back to the other side of the couch. 

“I’m trying so hard— to make you happy,” you said through a sob, “but you hate me. I made you hate me.” You cried almost violently and he didn’t say a word. “I love you so much and you hate me.” You whimpered, suddenly struck with that realization. He abruptly stood up and stormed off, and you watched his blurry figure go into your bedroom. You flinched again when the door slammed shut, then let out another sob. 

You cried until your head and throat ached, then just sat there, staring at your broken plate on the ground. You didn’t know he could be so violent. But apparently you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

After a while of just sitting and thinking and wanting to continue crying, you decided to get up. You cleaned the floor and put the pizza away before going in the bathroom to get ready for bed. You didn’t end up showering because you knew once you got in there, you’d start crying again, so you’d just have to get up a little early tomorrow. Once you finished and opened the door, you noticed your bedroom door was now open. Looking over you saw Jon on the couch and the gesture would’ve made you smile if you weren’t in such a horrible mood. 

Part 2

Taglist (join here)

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[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐖𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: we’ll be safe and sound || part two: isn’t it delicate?

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ Lucy Gray Baird was once your best friend. But Coriolanus Snow arrived and it was you who had them both charmed up. Where Coriolanus returns to the Capitol thinking he killed two women. Only to be surprised to realise that he doomed the bright prospect of his future.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ ANGST, kinda Lucy Gray x Coryo x reader, chasing, blood, slight gore if you imagine some scenes, poisonous berries, mentions of aphrodisiacs, drowning, violence, this gets slightly dark.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ this is one of my favourite fics ab Coriolanus so far. Main songs are Safe and Sound (Taylor’s version), can’t catch me now again and triste verano lol. Part two is going to be the aftermath of this btw

♪ ♫ awful Coriolanus Snow playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

__________________________________________________________

The water was warm. The soft rocks at the bottom made it slippery to stand still. But you did your best to stay there, looking at your friends laughing and playing where the water was deep.

“I can’t do it.” You say, shaking your head.

“You’re such a baby. Of course, you can!” The girl beside laughs at you and gently pushes you.

“Lucy Gray! I swear if you push me again I’m killing you” she laughs harder.

“Lucky me I know how to swim and you don’t”

“Relax. Just take my hand, I’m not letting you drown” Slowly, you take her hand, letting Lucy Gray guide you deeper into the water.

“I’m closing my eyes” you warn her. She rolls her eyes and laughs. The voices of your friends and the splashing sounds closer. At the same time, you feel the water has reached your chest. And it sends you on spirals.

“It’s okay. Just let go…” You’re holding Lucy Gray’s hand too tight. But as you reach further, you start making a big attempt to float. That’s when Lucy Gray grabs both of your hands to help you.

She finds your furrowed brows and insecure face funny and cute at the same time.

After some existential nights, the young girl questioned if she had ever felt such a strong connection with anyone as she did with you.

No. Never.

“Lucy Gray!” When she comes back to reality, she smiles shocked. She had dropped your hands but you had managed to keep floating. You were swimming.

“See? You did it!” Some of the members of The Covey cheer and you smile and laugh at their jokes.

“Told ya’. You’re just a baby” You poke your tongue out and she just makes fun of you.

“So funny. Shouldn’t you be at the market helping Maude Ivory to sell the necklaces we made?” Lucy Gray rolls her eyes again.

“Shouldn’t you be home?” It’s noon, almost dark. And yes, you should be home.

“I should.” To Lucy Gray, it was a disappointment to see that you never shared anything about your family or home. She just knew your mother’s family was from District 4, nothing else.

“Go home. I don’t want you to get scolded.” She was too sweet. Too sweet that you questioned if Lucy Gray Baird was your best friend.

“Petal, I’m almost eighteen…” one of the girls threw you a towel as soon as you made it out of the lake. After thanking her, you slip into your black sundress, which captures your alleged best friend’s attention.

“Why the black dress?” As a colour lover, you supposed Lucy Gray was hating your dress.

“It was the first thing I grabbed,” you admit, drying your hair with the towel.

“It looks like you’re going to a field funeral.”

“Maybe I was. In case I happened to have died in the lake” you joke, making her splash you. Lucy Gray noticed at that moment that you used many words that sounded too educated.

“Do you trust me so little?” She asked as she watched you leave.

“You know I trust whoever is loyal to me.” And with that, you disappeared through the trees.

There was something on you that intrigued Lucy Gray. And soon there will be two.

…

One night, at the hob, Lucy Gray is performing with The Covey and you are seated, smiling at her and your friends. Then all of a sudden, a certain blonde and tanned boy reaches for you.

“Y/N!” You hear your name and once you turn, you spot your two new friends.

“Sejanus, hey!” He offers you a little hug but it’s nothing compared to when Coriolanus Snow got closer.

“Coriolanus…” he literally falls into your open arms, his arms snaking around your hips with so much disguise that it makes you blush at the intimacy.

“I’ve told you… you can call me Coryo” You smile at him, inspecting his charming blue eyes that still made you get lost like the first day.

“Right… Well, it’s nice to see you, Coryo” he wants to chuckle. As Sejanus gets lost to get a drink, the blonde man takes a seat beside you.

“How has your training been? Hopefully not too hard.” You ask and wonder. Coriolanus was a peacekeeper in training. You met him almost three weeks ago, and somehow he made you very happy.

“I’m used to it now. The first days were the worst” you nod, turning back to see Lucy Gray and cheer for her.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus looked at you. Even your profile was a mystery to him. There was something about you that made him feel at home. Maybe it was your mannerisms that were very… Capitol. And that’s the thing, he didn’t know you. Yet, there was something that urged Coriolanus to unveil you. And that has started to make him question his feelings for Lucy Gray.

The moment you knew Coriolanus was Capitol, you started putting everything in a balance. And as you spent days talking outside of The Covey House and the lake, you realised you had started to put an eye on him.

When you turned to see the young man, you were surprised to see him already looking at you.

“What?” You ask, smiling. He replies by looking down, cheeks slightly flushed with pink.

“Nothing.” Your hand sneaks around your neck, and you feel it naked. You have lost your necklace.

Coriolanus sees how you start looking at the table, then the floor, looking out for something.

“What happened?”

“My necklace. I think I lost it… damn it” he starts helping you.

“Maybe it fell at the entrance” he suggests. So together we leave the hob. All under the fixated look of Lucy Gray. Who kept singing but the feeling on her chest made her uneasy.

The necklace doesn’t appear.

“It was just a necklace. But…” you sigh, leaning against the wall of the alley. Just a golden chain, no pendant, nothing.

Coriolanus can only see your features under the moonlight, ignoring the necklace issue. You have a beautiful dress under an oversized cardigan. With or without the necklace, you look gorgeous.

“It was a present. From my sixteenth birthday”

“Have mine.” You look at him before giggling. He takes his tag, a silver chain with his name on it. The young man thinks you would like him even more by offering his tag to you. He wants you to become closer to him. But the offer could be seen as wrong.

“I can’t take it, Coryo” he gets closer and the proximity makes you avoid his eyes. Only to land your vision on his hand taking yours.

He slips the tag in your palm, it’s still warm.

This is the most intimate moment you’ve shared with him. And you don’t know how to feel about it.

“At least until you get a new necklace” he suggests, offering a little smile. You can see he has no moles around his face, barely visible freckles maybe. His skin is very clear and his lips…

As you’re too focused on analysing his face, you accept the chain. And for some reason, you let him play with your cold fingers.

“Until then…” he leans closer, and the air suddenly feels fogged. It could be just another humid summer night.

But no, it was because Coriolanus Snow was less than two inches away from kissing you.

His free hand was ready to land behind your neck, just to slightly push you towards him and finally discover what your lips felt like.

“Where were you two?…” the side door of the hob opened. And like two volts, you and Coriolanus separate from each other. You grasp his tag tightly around your hand in a fist.

Lucy Gray had seen the interaction.

“Just looking for y/n’s necklace,” Coriolanus said first, walking away from you.

“Oh. Well, we were just waiting for you two. They want to start a round with beers” the girl said, rolling her eyes and giggling, pretending very well.

“Let’s go then…” Coriolanus walked past her, smiling at her like nothing happened. You tried to do the same. But Lucy Gray grabbed your forearm, stopping you from entering the hob behind the young man.

“Say the truth. Are you falling in love with him?” You frown, slightly irritated at the question.

“Of course not. I barely know him.” You replied a little too harshly. She nodded, silently believing you.

“You know I’ll never be the woman who wrecks a relationship.” She takes your word a little wounded. Seeing how you enter the hob quietly.

She just stares at the sky. You had been a good friend and she trusted you. Lucy Gray was having a little crisis. She questioned at that very moment if she actually loved Coriolanus.

Certainly not. She didn’t trust him at the beginning. Seeing him almost kissing you, was making her not trust him at the end. And Lucy Gray knew. You were so loyal to ever intentionally get involved in some affair. You preached to Not do what you don’t want to happen to you.

But the truth is that you would wreck a relationship. Unintentionally, but twice.

…

It was you who discovered a pomegranate tree near The Covey House. The branches were long and the season of pomegranates was until late summer, but somehow, in August, the tree was blossoming a couple of red beats.

Near the house, the nomad group had built some locations to make their lives easier. Like some stations to wash clothes and eat. Maude Ivory was sick, she started with a sore throat and she developed a stomach infection later. So you suggested picking their laundry. And since you spent more time with The Covey rather than your family, it wasn’t rare for Coriolanus to find you folding some dresses that were once hanging on a tightrope between two trees.

He stepped on a branch and it made you jump startled.

“Gosh! You scared me!” you squeaked after seeing Coriolanus standing there with his peacekeeper uniform. He grinned, leaving his little backpack on the table. He spotted a little basket filled with pomegranates.

“You picked all this?” He asked, pointing at the basket.

“Yes. It was a big surprise to see pomegranates in August. They start their season at the end of the month or September.”

“I never thought you would be that kind of girl?” You frowned laughing, turning back to fold the dresses into another basket.

“What kind, Coriolanus?” Shortly after, you know he is behind you. You can feel his breath in the nape of your neck, and it sends shivers to your spine.

“The kind who climbs trees and folds laundry while singing” your cheeks immediately go red. He had heard you sing previously.

“You heard me?”

“Indeed. Very pretty voice,” he said after sensing how embarrassed you were.

“I don’t sing. And you really shouldn’t be here. Lucy Gray was looking for you” You state firmly. Realising how much anyone could misinterpret the situation if they find you almost tangled up with Coriolanus Snow behind you.

“She was gone when I arrived here.”

“Oh…” you say, taking the basket with the laundry. When Coriolanus sees that you are also going to grab the one with the pomegranates, he stops you.

“Let me help you…” he takes the one with the fruit.

“Thank you.” He grabs your hand again, and it makes you weak. But you remember your dear friend. And the loyalty you preach.

“You can’t do this, Coryo. Not to her, not you. And not to me…” he sighs. Honestly, he didn’t want to hurt either one. But it was you who he was always trying to describe. It was you making him laugh so much. And it was you who made him feel like… home. Like…Capitol.

“You make me feel different.” You roll your eyes.

“And how did she make you feel in the first place?” They met at the Capitol. While you prayed for Lucy Gray’s survival at the Hunger Games. Boys could be liars.

“Lucy Gray made me feel like I had an option away from home.”

“But… you make me feel like I can have both. I can have this…” he says looking down at the pomegranates and folded laundry.

“And also… what I had there.” You have to look away. You see the trees and how some leaves fall because of the breeze.

“You’ll have to choose one day…” he nods, but he’s so close to you. He can see every detail of your delicate face. So as much as he tries to resist the urges, he ends up leaning closer. Your lips brush his and it’s magical. You really want to kiss him too.

“Doesn’t have to be today. Right?” His comment makes you almost retreat. And before you can walk away he pulls you to his chest again, finally kissing you.

He’s soft, yet passionate and intense. His right-hand finds comfort in the back of your neck while the other lands on your chin, deepening the kiss. For you, it’s an automatic response to put your arms around his neck.

As the kiss turns more desperate, the hand on your chin ends up pushing your lower back and you have to suppress a moan when you feel the clear outline of his manhood poke at your lower belly and part of your pelvis. It’s not enough to the fire you both initiated, but you have to stop.

Both of you pant for air and somehow he ends up smiling.

“Until the day you choose. This never happened.” You say firmly, but slowly, and you also smile at him.

Your smile was enough to keep him calm on the way back. Unconsciously, both of you feel like silly kids. Shyly walking side by side with baskets in your hands.

“So you couldn’t swim?” Coriolanus asks after some minutes walking to The Covey House.

“I couldn’t. Most of my family is from District 4. It’s embarrassing, to be honest.” He assumed you were also from there. And he couldn’t help but think that District 4 was closer than the 12 from the Capitol. Immediately he brushed away the thought.

“But Lucy Gray taught me. Kind of a violent teacher, but it was still great” you admit laughing. And Coriolanus was blushed. Surprisingly, he found himself on the verge of being jealous. Yes, of Lucy Gray teaching you how to swim.

Through the trail, one of the boys from The Covey appears, he looks too sweaty and tired, gasping and desperate.

“Y/N! Is Maude. She has a lot of fever and we don’t know what to do” You immediately worry, starting at a faster pace, followed by Coriolanus.

“Where is Lucy Gray?” You ask. The boy shrugs guiding you to their home.

“We don’t know. She’s nowhere near.” You sigh.

As soon as you make it inside, you find the girl lying on a couch, sweating and panting. Your heart broke as you kneeled beside her.

“Maude? You are going to be fine.” She seems to have identified you and slowly nodded.

Coriolanus follows you as you run to their improvised kitchen. You mix some herbs and boil them with water.

“Coryo, please hand me the honey.” He looks around to see a glass with honey and hands it to you.

And then, Coriolanus swears he fell in love with you as you treated Maude Ivory, immediately making her rest.

…

One night, Lucy Gray is oddly quiet. You know something’s up. So when you gently caress her shoulder, she lets out a long breath before spilling everything.

“Coriolanus shot Billy Taupe and the mayor’s daughter.” Your eyes widened, before letting a shocked gasp.

“What?” Lucy Gray nodded, confirming the facts to you.

“He did it to protect me and Sejanus. But…”

“This is bad. You know how this district is. Rumours will spark, the people will talk…” you spiral about it too panicked.

“I don’t want you nor Coriolanus to get in more trouble. What if-“

“It’ll be fine. We’ll be safe…” she hugs you, hearing how you tried to hide your sobs from her. She continues to share what happened and where the murder weapon was. She encourages you to keep the secret and play pretend until the waters soothed.

The waters only get worse. Like the tides form hours before a tsunami. After a peaceful morning, you find Lucy Gray at the market. You eat half a sandwich with her and you share that your mother was worried about the rumours. Including the fact that the authorities were starting to turn their heads towards Lucy Gray. She acts calm and used to have people talking about her. But being accused of murder was something different.

And it only gets worse when you two get closer to the chaos. Where Sejanus Plinth and the man who hid the murder weapon were hanged for treason. Lucy Gray takes your hand as you cover your mouth in shock.

You are able to see Coriolanus. The panic on his face is evident enough to make you feel uneasy. And that’s when Lucy Gray plans something.

You listen to her tell Coriolanus about leaving the districts. There are feelings of nausea, sadness, and stress washing all over you. That is abruptly cut by the couple turning to see you.

“Did you listen, y/n?” Lucy Gray asks. You stay quiet.

“Come with us. Please” she adds. You look at Coriolanus. His face doesn’t express anything, but he really wants you to agree. He knows it is a bad idea, he knows that is dangerous. But he wants to have you too.

You have plenty of reasons to stay. A little family, a home, a future. Which was certainly unsure for your dear people. They had nothing to lose.

Half of you were unsure, afraid of growing up and not being able to make it. So you had two options. And you weren’t ready to make a decision.

“Please, y/n. You’re my best friend. I can’t make it without you” Time never passed apparently. Lucy Gray and Coriolanus were still looking at you, waiting for some answer.

Your tongue gets loose before you can’t think clearly.

“I’ll come.” Coriolanus sees how the girl hugs you tightly. And he knows there’s no way back. He doesn’t know what to expect about this.

After agreeing to meet in the hanging tree, the three of you part separate ways.

You don’t think much about it. Because if you did, you would start analysing, and probably you would stay.

Coriolanus is too busy in the barracks to even remember. But he can’t help to think about you and Lucy Gray in a balance, knowing he was lingering too much on your side.

And Lucy Gray understands that in the long term, you’ll either grow old seeing her and Coriolanus being together. Only if it didn’t turn out the other way, where Coriolanus ended up taking you and it was Lucy Gray who would have to bear it.

Either way. She would leave with the only two humans he could trust. Or so she believed.

…

Your boots are dusted. You stare at them, a bitten prune in your right hand a little knife in the other. The way he grabs her chin makes you feel uncomfortable… and jealous.

Coriolanus didn’t kill his old self. That was for sure. You have your own theories, but you refuse to add gasoline to the fire. Not when you have made it outside of District 12.

“Not the best time to throw allusions, Coryo,” you say walking past them, separating the couple. You hoped to have soothed the tension. But you knew Lucy Gray had decreased her trust in the boy.

“You’re right. Sorry…” Coriolanus accepts looking at Lucy Gray. Then to you and your silly headscarf, your long silk dress, and fishing dark jacket.

“We really needed her. Right?” Lucy Gray throws the words, making Coriolanus frown confused. And that’s when he questioned if the girl also had some feelings for you, other than being best friends. Because the way he was on the verge of smiling at the sight of you was the same way she was looking at you.

“She will prevent us from killing each other” he attempted to joke.

“Or be the reason why we kill each other,” Lucy Gray said. Coriolanus disliked the comment.

And so on, for the rest of the walk, it’s you making the air lighter. Your smiles made Coriolanus forget the offer of moving to District 2. Even the situation where his grandmother and Tigris were in. But Lucy Gray reminded him of his errors and his new upcoming country life. Your random comments about plants that are poisonous and others that work as medicine or aphrodisiacs make Lucy Gray blush and keep focused. Knowing that having you by her side was a good sign.

You lean to pick some violet flowers, and both Lucy Gray and Coriolanus look at each other to then look at you.

“Medicine, poisonous or…?” You giggle, noticing how Lucy Gray was avoiding saying the word.

“Saffron. An aphrodisiac, actually,” you answer, looking at her blush and Coriolanus’ little smirk.

“Some threads of this with warm milk or wine and…” Coriolanus can’t help but laugh briefly. You ignore the way he looks at you. The cheeky look he offered you and how you evidently looked away, blushed.

Lucy Gray caught a glimpse of your necklace. She stopped blushing as soon as she looked carefully. It was Coriolanus’ tag. Dangling between your breasts and shining under the last rays of the sun. It was getting cloudy. Likely, a humid rain was coming.

“I’ll take the lead from here.” Lucy Gray says, her tone a little more cold.

She starts walking away and Coriolanus takes the opportunity to help you stand up.

“You should take some…” when you understand what he meant, you punch his arm.

“You’re insane, Snow” he laughs and cynically goes to trace your face with one of the flowers.

“I think I’ve made my decision.” You turn to look at Lucy Gray, who’s even further then. Then back to the blonde guy with gorgeous blue ocean eyes.

You don’t want to hurt her. Lucy Gray deserved better. But you couldn’t deny that if the days kept passing, you would completely and blindly fall in love with Coriolanus Snow.

“We won’t do anything about it. Yet…” you say, sliding a little bunch of the violet saffron flowers inside your bag. Coriolanus shakes his head. There’s a big smile on his face, returning to walk before he jumps there to kiss you.

…

When the rain starts you decide to find the lake. Under the rain, the dark underwater conditions made it desirable to fish. Fish were more active and hopefully, you would be able to bring something to have for dinner that night. The cabin was very near. Coriolanus stayed there and Lucy Gray came to the lake with you. She was quiet, watching how your feet were underwater, and you sank a sharp branch constantly.

“I have one!” You happily yelled, watching how the poor animal squirmed.

When you leave it in a little bag with Lucy Gray, she stops you.

“Lucy Gray?”

“I swear I won’t ask again. But please be honest, y/n.” She starts and it makes you frown confused. You drop the branch, waiting for her question.

“Do you love him?” She finally asks.

You remain quiet. But you keep your word.

“I don’t know…”

She nods, looking at the damn tag on your neck. She should’ve known.

“That doesn’t mean I’ve been acting behind your back or that I will” you add. Because it’s true. None of your encounters with Coriolanus were set by you. It was he who always looked out for you.

“Not yet.” She spits, giving you a harsh look. You sigh, tilting your head, hands on your hips.

“Are we going to ruin everything for a man?”

“I don’t know. Are you?” She asks with a sarcastic smile.

“I won’t do this, Lucy Gray. And you shouldn’t either. Not when we’ve come this far already.” You say looking away from her, grabbing the branch, and walking away.

“Alright. I’m going back to the cabin. See you there?” She asks to surrender.

“Sure.” You hear her footsteps leaving. And you can finally breathe, your eyes water and you question everything.

The long days working with The Covey, helping them to make handicrafts to sell at the market. The nights laughing nonstop with Lucy Gray and giving her to drink when she shouldn’t, how she braided your hair and caressed you. All the good performances she gave and how good the celebrations were.

Then the days you were able to have long walks with Coriolanus, getting to know little but something about his life at the Capitol. The nights you sneaked at the barracks, and both spent hours drinking and saying silly things. The soft touches he started giving you. How he cared for you and always wanted you to be okay.

You realise they are the most important people in your life outside of your family. They are the strongest connections you’ve ever made. And you didn’t have the heart to ruin it or sacrifice it.

Those thoughts are long gone after you hear some shooting. You drop the branch again and you start running towards the cabin. You forget your boots and the fish. It’s the panic of knowing something bad has happened that reigns in your head. Some dry leaves hurt your bare feet but you don’t care.

You literally jump the stairs of the cabin. And once you open the door, you spot Coriolanus with the rifle in one hand. A knife on the other. That forbidden rifle.

You see some dry blood in his arm. An evident bite was there.

“What happened?” You rush to inspect his arm.

“Snakebite” but he’s fast enough to turn and start giving you pecks across the face. And once his lips brush your chin, you can’t take it anymore.

Neither him, he finally kisses you like he never ever did.

It’s desperate. While you kiss him back, many questions keep flooding your head. And you can’t fully concentrate on his lips. So you back away.

“Where’s Lucy Gray?” He remains quiet. Slowly, you look down. Until your eyes land on the rifle. You start walking backward, shaking your head. Tears forming again.

“No…” you whisper as he tries to get closer to you again. Coriolanus wants to scream and tell you everything is going to be okay. But he knows it’s not true. He sees how you’re starting to look shocked. And he realised how smart you were, how fast you connected the dots.

He makes you sit on the creaky chair of wood. He offers you a dark brown glass, where he pours some of the water. Slowly, you take the glass, hoping to calm yourself with some water.

Once you drink a sip, you see a crushed berry. Quickly you spit the water, throwing the glass as it shatters into the floor.

It was a Lily of the Valley, a poisonous berry.

“YOU POISONED ME!” You scream. He opens his eyes and enters in panic.

“No, y/n. It was an accident!” The urge to run increased. Probably what your dear Lucy Gray tried to do. It makes you finally cry.

That crushed berry was an accident. Coriolanus told Lucy Gray to wait for you, to prevent cooking anything that was poisonous from your collection.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He stops you, and as soon as he touches you, your reaction is violent. You keep squirming, trying to run away from him.

He drops the rifle, but the hand with the knife keeps dangerously brushing your temple. And Coriolanus wants to stop fighting so badly, worried that he could hurt you even more. Also, he panics as he knows the poison could be spreading.

He can’t be alone. You were his remaining hope.

“PLEASE STOP, Y/N!” But you don’t.

“YOU KILLED HER! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” Suddenly both of you stop. You touch your face and your whole palm is covered in blood.

Another thing Coriolanus never meant to. The knife had made a deep cut, and the scarlet kept flowing from that side of your face, covering your silk dress with spots.

“It was an accident. Y/n…please”

An accident… he wanted to kill you.

You run. You run as fast as you can. Towards the lake, wherever. As long as you could be away from Coriolanus.

He runs too, he chases you. Making you feel like his prey. You try to ignore the fear that keeps building up. You ignore the blood threatening your vision from the left eye.

“STOP, Y/N!” Coriolanus screams.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” But you don’t stop, you reach the old wooden platform at the lake. The rain splashing against the surface of the lake is loud, but not enough to silence your sobs of anger, fear, and pain.

Coriolanus also fears. He knows he’s a monster, but he didn't want to be one around you. Maybe it was his karma. He believed Lucy Gray placed his mother’s scarf on top of that snake. You believed he had purposely placed the crushed Lily of the Valley at the bottom of that glass.

He keeps running, you won’t go anywhere in that wood thing.

You turn to see him. And it destroys him. Your face and drenched dress. All covered in blood and rain. Your red and swollen eyes. He had broken you in less than twenty minutes.

And looking at his eyes was your ending. Because you slipped. Coriolanus saw how your weak body fell into the water and he ran faster.

But he didn’t jump. It was too late.

Soon he realised your body would never make it to the surface.

He cried, he screamed in that lake. He fell on his knees and cursed at the way things happened. He lost his head when Lucy Gray was gone, and he returned even more stressed as he thought you had also run away. But you came straight to his arms, hoping to see everyone was fine. And he just kept cursing, wishing he had given you a different glass.

Some minutes later, he goes back to the cabin. He takes the rifle carefully wrapped with a blanket and takes a raft.

As he lets the rifle sink into the lake, he wonders where your body had ended up. But he accepts it was probably better to let you rest peacefully underwater than disturb you.

In his head, he truly fell in love with you. Lucy Gray had been an enigma for most of the time, only to reveal her true nature in her final moments. And you, Coriolanus realised you were the real mystery.

Just like your death.

He took all the flowers you had collected and sprinkled the lake with them. His eyes watered once again. Thinking about what could’ve been. And after a minute of silence, he leaves. The lake, the cabin, the outsides of the districts.

With two remaining memories; Lucy Gray’s earring and a single saffron flower you promised to give it a try with him.

Coriolanus swears that he actually needed you. But you’re gone.

…

Ending up back in the Capitol makes Coriolanus feel like Lucy Gray’s death was worth it, actually. But yours makes him feel guilty. He could’ve asked you to come with him. To forget about everything that happened on the 12 and start a new life. With the Plinth fortune and Gaul’s help on his side, Coriolanus accepts the only missing piece is you.

The saffron flower rested between the pages of his journal, now dry. But the color was vivid as the day it blossomed.

Coriolanus is a new man. Who had let go of his past, but not the memory of you. He mourns your death the first week he comes back home. And he tells his grandmother that from now on he will only wear her white roses.

A symbol of peace, hope, and innocence. Which he had lost a long time ago. But it reminded him of you. Especially the hope, which was what you took away from him when you died.

So he accepts the invitation from the annoying childish girl Livia Cardew. The golden blonde was always a shy yet smiley girl in class. But Coriolanus never paid much attention to her. Until he learned Livia’s older cousin was a famous and respected politician. So he agreed to come with her to the Inauguration Day. President Ravinstill was too depressed and down after his son died at the hands of a rebel attack. So he had to retire. And Coriolanus knew it was a great opportunity to look out for contacts and form new comrades.

“You look amazing,” Tigris said, brushing her cousin’s shoulders, inspecting his dark blue suit.

“Maybe because you did this,” Coriolanus said, happy to see the young woman smiling again. After the bittersweet comment of saying he looked like his father, there had been a shift.

“With some help,” she says, admitting all the hard work was not from her hands. Now she had a little atelier where she had help and started new fashion trends at the Capitol.

“Even so, you designed it. Thank you, Tigris” he smiled at her.

“Are you still going with that girl?”

“Livia? Yes… Why?” He asked, looking at himself in the mirror.

“I don’t think she’s the one Coryo. She’s a child” Tigris admitted, arms crossed and avoiding looking at the man.

“She’s my age, Tigris.”

“Still… allow me to say this but, she doesn’t seem to be what you need” Coriolanus sighed. Of course, Livia Cardew wasn’t what he needed, she just had some contacts and a good reputation from her family. But they had nothing in common.

Coriolanus Snow needed you. An alleged district woman, who didn’t even know her last name or background. Just the sweet girl who seemed to be the remedy for all aches.

“I know she’s not the one” and Tigris knew there had been someone else than her cousin’s tribute. Something else happened. But she wouldn’t ask him.

“Listen, I’m just going with her to the inauguration, but this doesn’t mean I’ll take her for granted,” he says, pushing away his memories from you.

“Say goodnight to Grandma’am for me, please” Tigris nods, briefly smiling once again before kissing his cheek and wishing him good luck.

The celebration had been very ostentatious. With a lot of people cheering for the new president. He seemed young, with a mature beautiful wife. There was a rumour that he was District 4 governor and was Mr. Ravinstill's best friend. That said a lot about why District 4 was wealthier than District 2 or three compared to before.

Nonetheless, the Capitol’s citizens seemed to be embellished by this new president who promised a new start for everyone in Panem.

Soon after the Inauguration Ceremony, only the wealthiest and finest members of the Capitol were invited to continue the celebration in a mansion near the hills. The view was amazing and the remaining minutes of the sunset were gorgeous up there.

Coriolanus had barely tasted from his posca. After you, he started to pay more attention to poison. He saw some classmates, like Festus, Clemensia, Vypsania, Hilarius, etc. A side of him wants to get closer and say hi, but Livia appears beside him, eating a little pastry.

“Imagine living here and being able to see this view every morning, evening, and night.” She says. Coriolanus hates her purple dress and red lipstick. As he thought, Livia was ridiculously trying to look mature.

“It’s a great view.” He replies coldly. The city was finally looking brighter, modern, and illuminated.

He turned to see the profile of the girl and noticed she had some cream on her chin.

“You have some-“ Livia understands and quickly wipes it away, smiling at him. She was pretty, but not his type.

“Better?”

“Yes.” The crowd suddenly starts talking, capturing the couple’s attention. So when both Livia and Coriolanus turn towards the mansion, they see two peacekeepers opening the doors from the biggest balcony. And the new man who had the crown of president appeared, followed by his wife. And then what seemed to be his family.

The guests started a round of applause, looking up from the giant patio. Coriolanus finally took a little sip of his drink.

“Dear friends and honourable guests. It is my joy to say that the inauguration ceremony was a success. My family and I feel extremely blessed and thankful for all the support we have received” the man started his speech. Coriolanus was mentally taking notes. As that was the man he would literally have to beg to become the Capitol’s governor one day. And hopefully, then become president.

“This is going to be a period of change, evolution, and a new start for the history of Panem. I look forward to meeting all the involved staff and personnel to make this real” he sounded honest, yet, like a dangerous species that you had to be careful around.

“For now, I’d like to introduce my sweet and dedicated daughter, who shall not be judged by her young age. But to be admired for the position I’m giving her, as chief of staff.” it was able to be heard on the microphone. He said the name, but no one heard.

And the first thing Coriolanus saw between the lines of the railing were some weird heels and the layers of a tulle dress.

Then a satin top with some soft knitted sweater, with shiny buttons. A delicate golden necklace and some dark brick red lips.

Coriolanus Snow almost dropped his glass. His face went pale and Livia had to borrow the glass from him.

“Are you okay?” She asked worriedly. Coriolanus nodded, but he had an evident nausea forming.

“Y/n. Come here, darling…” the new president said with a smile. Putting an arm around his daughter, proud of showing her off.

The president’s daughter was you.

He couldn’t believe it. He saw your body drowning. You drank poison, and the cut on your temple. How could you have survived?

That didn’t matter. There you were with a shy smile. Innocence is long gone. Coriolanus only saw the mystery, the danger in your face.

Seeing you there, breathing, as much as he wanted to have you alive before, was going to curse his existence.

“A toast for everyone here. To begin this new era with the right feet!” Your father said, raising his glass.

Everyone did it then.

“For the president!” The guests cheered in unison.

Fireworks started, making everyone turn to the sky. Even Livia walked a little past Coriolanus, but he stood there looking at the balcony. Eyes set on you.

You spotted him. And it stopped your world.

He looked even more beautiful than he did in 12. Longer hair, perfect weight gained. Clean and elegant suit. Now you know everything about him. And it broke your heart. You had healed through the trauma of what happened in the lake. Nobody knew, besides you and him.

You hoped to keep it that way. But you had no compassion left for a man like Coriolanus Snow. Who killed your best friend, almost killed you, and loved you the wrong way.

You knew he would be scared to see you alive. He would end up begging on his knees at the slight error he committed. He would have many questions, that time would answer for him.

Your days of being a loyal and sweet girl were gone. Coriolanus had stripped you bare from any trace of trust, unconditional love, and innocence.

You stare at him, and he looks shocked. He looks so scared and… frail. So you greet him back with a smile, sipping at your glass one last time, before looking up at the fireworks.

He really thought that it was the end.

____________________________________

Minitaglist: @rockstarbfs @gracieroxzy @il0vebeingdelulu @coconut-dreamz @angelscrime @maryvibes @justacaliforniandreamer

part two? yey or nay?

[connoisseursdecomfort]

All the lies in Chapter 86, and the truth behind

Yes, I'm still screaming internally, and I don't think I will ever get over this chapter.

Endo have told us right from the beginning: this is a story about lies:

Everyone has a secret self they don't show to other people. Not even to family. Not to friends. Not to lovers. And thus the world. They hide who they are and what they want behind lies and painted smiles.

Twilight is a liar. He consciously tells so many lies in this chapter, but it's what he (and the people around him) unconsciously shows really count.

*Manga spoiler alert*

Endo masterfully blends lies and truths together in this chapter. They recognise the existence of all facades, but somehow still manage to show what reality lies beneath, i.e. the three scenes many people have discussed.

When he tries to use his infamous excuse, "for the mission", once again, even Nightfall could tell that it's not the whole truth.

What's more interesting is when the team is in the car, and the old agent asked Twilight to grab a drink with him once they got back. Twilight refused, and that's when the old agent said: クツ調子いい時だけ家庭面しやがつて in the jp version.

The slight difference is he's saying Twilight only puts on that mask of a family man when he sees fit. It of course still means that Twilight is using his family as an excuse to not grab a drink with him. Twilight then replied: その面をかぶるのが任務ですつてば. (It is my job to put on that mask.)

There is something poetic about the dialogues. There IS a pretence. There IS a mask to be put on for the mission. But Twilight's excuse has lost some of its validity because literally panels ago he's just got called out. And the old agent's tease is a common one against married men who'd avoid office gatherings "because he needs to go home and be the family man". It's a friendly banter.

They then chatted about his "fight" with Yor. There were four professional spies in the car, and none of them found it weird that he just called Yor his wife, and acted like a miserable married man worrying about his wife being angry at him. They were so normal about the situation it's as if Yor really is his wife.

It is the sense of normality that makes everything feel so real. He tried so hard to keep a distance with "his mission", but his actions and the word choices have exposed him.

He still doesn't call the Forger residence home, but he uses this word - 帰, to return. Mika made a thread about this. You only return to something or someone because at the very least part of you feel belong (I'm being ultra careful here but my soul is screaming it's because you feel at home). The place you "return" to must contain some sense of stability. He unwittingly reveals how the Forgers have become his safe place.

That's probably why once he stepped into the apartment and saw a smiling Yor, he fell to his knees. His body finally allowed himself to relax.

But that is also when his lies reappeared. He lied about his day. He lied about his wounds. And he lied about his feelings. It was Yor who opened up to him. He was lying.

While confessing to Yor in his mind.

This might be an unpopular opinion, but I don't think he's telling the truth in his mind. This doesn't mean he's consciously lying. He is trying to convince himself into "seeing the reality".

I'm going to gush so much about these two pages. Brace yourself.

I love these two pages so much, because it shows how lies can be more revealing than a spoken confession. Especially when Twilight is probably unaware of it.

Yor told him that he could rely on her. She uses the term 甘える.

甘える is to go to someone you trust when you feel scared or upset, to moan about your problems even if they sound trivial, and to ask for help for the tiniest things. It works both ways, you wanting to get attention and knowing that the person would still love you and baby you. You know you can be weak and the one you rely on would still find you to be adorable.

That's exactly what Yuri was doing. He ran to Yor crying after being beaten up. That's also what Anya did.

Yor told him that it's okay to be not perfect, and she's willing to share his burden.

He wanted to tell her so much more, but he only gave her a short answer. He just told her that she's made him feel better, but he wanted to talk to her about it. That's when he started to confess to her in his head.

On the surface, this confession shows that he's trying to deny her request. He is insisting that he has to be perfect.

Here's the tricky thing, by explaining to her why he had to be perfect, he had to admit that he's weak.

He wanted to tell her that he fucked up today and needed to be better. He wanted to show weakness. He wanted to 甘える. And his tone just further gives him away.

I will have to admit that I love how he talked to Yor in his head, especially "でもわヨルさん、オレは". He's using such a soft tone while trying to talk himself into toughening up. He went physically soft too. Fell down thrice even if he had prepped himself to get his guard up. He just couldn't do it when he's with Yor.

There are things he can't tell her, but there are more he can't admit to himself. He has wrapped himself in layers of lies, and they turned out to be more revealing than ever.

Twilight is still a huge liar in Chapter 86. I'm not sure if he's a cool liar, but he is the softest liar ever.

There are so many things I want to scream talk about. How he called Yuri "Yuri Briar" but Yor "Yor san". How he asked about Anya once he got home. How he's failed thrice trying to keep his guard up in front of Yor. How he called out to Yor when he thought Yuri had returned. But I guess it's for another day.

[cafeinthemoon]

It's a Fire - Chapter IV

Chapter 4

Wordcount 4,3k

Title Difficult Task

Fandom Kimetsu no Yaiba / Demon Slayer

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3

Symbols ⭕ ➕ 🖤

Warnings: mentions of grief and loss; parent issues; feelings of abandonment and rejection; issues between employees and employer

Tagging @chiyokoemilia (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: This chapter took days to be finished, not only bc of its length, but mainly bc I was finding it a bit confusing. I wasn't sure of how I should portrait this "advance" in reader and Shinjuro's relationship, neither how much of reader and Senjuro's grief after the scene in the living room: sometimes I thought I just wrote enough, and other times I though it wasn't as emotional as it should be, so that what you're going to read is the best I could come up with.

Soon I'm going to return to work, so Idk how things will be, so I ask you a bit of patience and thank you in advance for supporting me :)

It wasn’t shame what you felt when you looked into your stepson’s eyes, neither it was fear or irritation for being caught in a place where you shouldn’t be: it was the concern that he might have observed your face for long enough to read your emotions with too precision for someone his age. And, in fact, you were tempted to show a passionate reaction, whether to confirm or to deny your feelings, just for the sake of getting that weight off your chest, but you tightened the reigns around your tongue and didn’t do any of this.

This is adults’ problem. He doesn’t need to share this load with us.

Senjuro looked around, as if waiting for someone to show up suddenly and, after making sure it wouldn’t happen, stepped into the room.

– So… you found out about the living room? – he questioned with the usual hesitation – It’s been a while since this place was visited. Except for the maid.

You still felt your eyes burning with the things you were seeing there, but you wouldn’t burst out in tears. You sighed and crossed your arms.

– Yes, I can see that – after an embarrassing silence, you forced a smile while observing the photographs – Now I understand why I had no permission to enter this room. I should’ve obeyed the rules.

– But you’d find out about this sooner or later, I guess – was the boy’s reply – And my father isn’t here, anyway. Not even he uses to come here anymore.

You swallowed.

– If that’s the case, we better leave before he returns to the house.

He agreed and you walked out at that moment, taking care not to mess up anything, thus creating proof of your passage there.

***

You were sitting on a wood bench somewhere in the garden, as you used to do during the breaks between one training session and another or when you decide to eat lunch there, which was that day’s case. It was a safe spot to relax, as well as to talk.

And you had too much to talk.

Still embarrassed, you took the responsibility of starting the conversation.

– I should never enter that room. No matter if I escaped without being caught, it was wrong. But it’s too late for regrets now, I guess.

You said those things with a calm that surprised even yourself. When you first spotted Senjuro in the doorway, you swore you wouldn’t be able to look at him again, and even worse it would be to face your husband once he got back, trying your best to hide what you did from him, but that wasn’t how you felt now. You were rather sad for what you discovered, and for the things such discovery implied.

Senjuro noticed this too, and he said that to you.

– You don’t seem so mad about the photographs, y/n. I thought you’d be offended that my father keeps them in an entire room instead of, like, a drawer.

You gave him a sad smile.

– Why would I be mad by this? I mean, I could imagine him keeping photographs and other memories in drawers like you say, and seeing the whole room full of them was… unexpected. Still, I’m no one to judge – you lowered your tone, as if the next thing you’d share with him was more of a delicate conclusion – Instead, seeing them got me thinking about your situation here.

The boy frowned.

– Situation? What do you mean?

You moved on your spot, as to shake off the discomfort of entering that strange territory.

– Well, I’ve been avoiding intrusions, but this time I can’t help it. Senjuro-san, your family... was beautiful with your mother and your elder brother there. I’ve felt that as soon as I’ve put my eyes on those photographs. Your father… – you felt your cheeks getting hot with what you were about to say, but you ignored the sensation – He’s a completely different person by their side, and yours. He looks really happy there. I could never imagine him like that, you know? I guess this is what surprised me most – you bit your lip – Because, when I found out I’d have to live with you, I had no idea of what I’d see here, and after the things I’ve experienced, seeing our life together as something positive was impossible. But, then, I’ve saw your family as it once was… And understood that the issue is deeper than it first looked. The loss you’ve both endured… that’s too much…

A leaf fell from the tree behind your bench. Senjuro held it on his right hand.

– I understand what you’re trying to say. I was too little when my mother passed away, so I barely remember her except through the photographs and the things my father and my brother told me. I only remember what happened to my father when he lost her. My brother would speak more about this if he was here because he felt that too, even more after he became a Hashira – the leaf twirled between his fingers while he spoke – Slowly, that enthusiastic, gentle man who raised us turned into a bitter stranger. He started to drink. He spent most of his time in his room, and when he left it, he barely looked at us. Everything he held dear lost its value to him. It was strange, like watching someone you love dying in front of you, while another person takes their place. It was like losing him soon after losing my mother…

Senjuro’s voice cracked a bit in those last words. When you raised your eyes to him, you noticed him sobbing. You didn’t think twice: approaching the boy, you just passed your arms around him, as to assure his right to cry. You looked around, at the weather, and realized the blur in your sight: you were crying yourself too.

You did your best to put yourself together, and waited until your stepson was able to do the same.

– When my mother died, my father changed too – you adjusted yourself in your spot – He never had a problem with drinking or anything like this, but he wasn’t the same man who raised me. He started to isolate himself and making senseless decisions concerning our house, our business and everything else. Half of our staff left us, and even the people of our village noticed we were having problems. Our situation became worse when the stories about Oni started spreading among the common folk, and my father, not knowing how to deal with the financial problems and too proud to seek for help, was about to go insane – you swallowed – I’ve tried to help him, I’ve tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t let me. He thought it was easier to send me away and stay there, rotting inside that house while demons devastated our lands at night – you felt your lower lip starting to tremble and continued to speak, to avoid a stronger reaction – He abandoned himself, abandoned our people…

At that point you gave up and fell silent, but Senjuro finished the thought for you.

– ...And abandoned you – he glanced at you – No wonder you burned his letter without opening it.

Your heart ached with the memory, but it wasn’t remorse what you felt.

– This is something I don’t regret. As much as I don’t regret defending you from Rengoku-sama. I mean, now I can see that life showed no mercy on him, but treating you like that was terrible and unfair, and the same can be said about my father. Their suffering makes us comprehend them, but it doesn’t excuse their mistakes.

– And what do you think we must do, y/n?

You opened your mouth, but closed it again to think of a sensible response.

It’s strange to tell someone what to do. Is this what’s expected from parents? What a duty to fulfill...

– In your father’s case, I believe we can stay as we are – you spoke slowly – Since we know he’s been enduring so much, we won’t do anything to increase his load. At the same time, we can’t let him cross boundaries and treat us as he wants.

Senjuro seemed to approve the idea, but he still had concerns.

– It makes sense. I’ve been doing this since I can remember, but I still feel guilty. When I see my father in that state, I think I should be doing something for him – he sighed – Sometimes, I think this is what he expects from me, and that’s why he acts so harshly.

That was your time to be concerned. You’ve already noticed that, due to his easygoing nature, Senjuro had a tendency of taking heavy burdens to himself, but you wouldn’t sit and watch him giving in to this inclination and becoming an adult before his natural time just because the real adult was unable to act like one.

– But you already do what you can for him, Senjuro-san. You’re a good and respectful son. You keep your things organized and clean, and don’t mind doing hard work. It doesn’t matter if your father says that out loud or keeps it to himself, I’m sure he knows that.

– Do you think so? – his doubt was genuine; it was clear that he never tried to see things from such perspective.

– Yes – you replied with all the possible firmness – You can continue to act with kindness, but it’s not your duty to fix him. Honestly, even I don’t know if there’s something I can do for Rengoku-sama besides staying out of his way. Yet being too hard on ourselves because of this won’t help us at all.

Senjuro thought of that for a moment.

– It also means that you don’t know what you have to do to help your father?

You moved your head slowly in agreement.

– Yes. It does.

– But don’t you think you can find a way if you talk to him?

You looked away. You clearly weren’t expecting that. Still, you didn’t avoid the question.

– I don’t know. I really don’t know.

***

You could say you’ve worked hard to act according to your own words in the days that followed that conversation. You created a routine that included waking up early and taking time to organize your surroundings just like you used to do in your father’s house, then leaving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast (that was a task that Senjuro took to himself since the cook decided to quit, so having you there to take care of this spared him time and avoided more of his father’s scolding for minor mistakes and waste of ingredients); after that, you would leave with your stepson to your usual training session, and then you took separate ways in your daily activities: while he stood with tasks outside the house, you took the responsibility of cleaning and organizing the interior, thus giving the servants the chance of going back home while the sun was still high in the sky instead of being forced to spend the night there, away from their families; finally, while Senjuro returned to his room to study, you would go to your own to bathe and relax.

It was simple, and it worked for everyone… or so you told yourself every time you remembered that your husband wasn’t included in this perfect scheme. Thing was that, since the incident with the wood sword, he actively avoided you in the rooms and corridors, which didn’t make much to shake your moods – instead, you were relieved with this distance; however, after the day you found the photographs, you were the one mimicking such behavior, and your almost non existent relationship just turned into a sequence of unexpected, embarrassing encounters where opening your mouth to say “good morning” was harder than passing by each other and running away.

There was one day when, to answer the plead of a maid, you had to swallow this embarrassment and replace it with courage: while you were cleaning a room not so far from yours, she confided to you that her payment has been delayed, as well as the other servants’.

– I have some debts I need to pay, and I’ve been trying to gain some time with my creditors, but they’re getting impatient – she explained – In normal circumstances, I would’ve paid everything already, but now I’m really desperate, y/n-sama.

You frowned.

– I see. But how did everything turn out this way?

The girl approached you, as to reveal some shameful secret.

– I know it’s none of my concern, but I’ve seen things in this house, and the other servants, who have been here for longer than me, told me what they’ve saw – she whispered – Since the previous lady’s decease, problems concerning the house’s workers became common. The previous accountant left his position and no one was hired in his place, so the financial responsibility was on the young Senjuro. Of course, he’s an honest boy and did what he could to help, but he’s not a professional, and sometimes mistakes were made. The people who still work here haven’t left yet in consideration for him, and because they really need the jobs. It’s Takumi-san’s case. Last time he tried to reason with Rengoku-sama, he became furious and gave him two choices: to go back to work or to leave and never return – she shrugged – He decided to stay, but only if a solution appears. He’s one of our best workers. If he leaves, things will become even worse for us.

You had to stop for a moment to process the things you’ve just heard. You immediately remembered that young man who had a bottle of sake thrown at him in the corridor.

So, that was the cause of Shinjuro’s outburst. Unbelievable.

The situation at the Rengoku’s house was even worse than your father’s: the servants just gave up on their work and left, except for the few in desperate circumstances, and the whole responsibility over the finances has been tossed at a kid? That time, you couldn’t just ignore it.

– Listen, I… I’m really surprised with this situation, as much as I may seem – you told her, not hiding the shame even though it wasn’t your fault – Senjuro-san never told me anything about this, otherwise I would’ve already done something. I’m... really sorry for this. But now that I’m informed, what can I do to help you?

The maid hesitated. She knew the difficult of what she was going to ask.

– Please, y/n-sama, talk to Rengoku-sama in our name – she bowed her head – We know he has a… complex temper, but he seems to respect you. Maybe there’s a chance of him to listen to you.

Well, if the financial issues were surprising to you, the reasons behind the maid’s request were shocking. The servants thought Shinjuro respected you? That man who barely looked at your direction? What a situation you’ve gotten into… But you couldn’t make it even worse by bringing the maid’s – and the whole staff’s – expectations down by telling her that you were too insecure to speak to your husband about a domestic problem, so you did what in other circumstances you’d never consider possible.

– Don’t worry – you swallowed – I will speak to him as soon as possible.

After an effusive “Thank you”, she left to tell the others about your resolution.

The glow of relief and gratitude in the girl’s eyes soothed part of your anxiety, but solely because you knew you were doing the right thing – it had nothing to do with your task being easy. Truth was that you didn’t even know where you should start: should you look for Shinjuro in his room or to wait until you’d meet him in another part of the house? Was it better to bring the subject right in the beginning of the conversation, or should you warm up until the appropriate moment? And, of course, how was he going to react? That is, you saw what he did to the young man; there was nothing to assure you that he wouldn’t try anything like that toward you.

You finished your work and went out to deliberate. You walked around the house, in and out of the garden, trying to come up with a reasonable solution, but nothing occurred to you. That time you also weren’t going to talk to your stepson: Senjuro would be informed about the situation only after everything was solved, and the same would be in the case of the servants, to avoid a commotion.

I’m really alone in this.

As it used to happen when you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize where your wanderings were taking you to until you stopped and looked around… and recognized the front of Shinjuro’s porch. You froze in your spot, less because of this than because you almost bumped into him on the way.

You startled and covered your mouth to avoid a scream. You stepped back and stood there, staring at the man, who was also surprised to meet you so suddenly in a part of the building you weren’t often seen. But, just like it happened to you now, he seemed to anxious to inquire you.

Somehow you were the first to speak.

– Rengoku-sama… I…

You moved your lips, but no words were found to continue the sentence. Your eyes lowered to his hands, and it was with a sort of relief that you noticed the absence of a bottle. Did the sake finish and he was going to get more, or did he see you approaching and got rid of it before you saw it? You couldn’t tell, but at that moment you recalled your previous encounters with him and realized that, since the conflict at the garden, in each of them, he wasn’t drinking, yet sake was still being bought judging by the bottles you always saw piling up in the kitchen.

Is he avoiding to drink in my presence?

– You wanted to speak to me, y/n? – his voice brought you back to reality; your relief grew when you noticed the composed tone in it.

– Yes. Yes, I… – you hid your hands behind your back – There’s an issue I need to discuss with you.

Shinjuro showed no signs of being bothered by the word issue, unlike you were expecting. Instead, he seemed intrigued: you’ve been doing your things all by yourself since you were brought to his house, and now you wanted to talk to him about something? That was new.

– And what is it?

You breathed deep.

The time is now. What do I have to do?

You glanced behind him and saw his room’s door was open. That gave you an idea.

– Would you mind talking somewhere else? – you shrugged – A private place, maybe?

He didn’t make objections to this, indicating his room and inviting you to follow him.

***

As he sat with his legs crossed, you knelt in front of him, having the door, left open, at your right. Your hands were over your lap, as you waited to see what he was going to do.

By all means, Shinjuro was a practical man, so that fortunately he didn’t let this waiting to extend.

– So, what is it that you need to discuss with me? – he inquired – I suppose it must be too important, for you to seek for me so suddenly.

– In fact – you confirmed; and, taking a deep breath, – But it’s nothing related to myself, actually. It’s about the people who work in here.

You noticed a slight twist on his lips when he heard that, but you gave no time for him to react.

– I was told that the servants are facing struggles with the decreasing in the personnel, and that my stepson was left to take care of the matters despite this – you moved on your spot; your feet, folded under your legs, started causing you discomfort, but you ignored it – I won’t discuss this arrangement, but there are problems that need attention right now and, because I am your wife, I was asked to seek for a solution alongside you.

Unlike you imagined, Shinjuro listened to all of this in silence, and after you finished he kept quiet. No physical or verbal outbursts followed, but if he was measuring what he just heard or trying to control his irritation, you couldn’t tell, and that was worse: with the usual anger and bad moods you could deal with, whether by running away or facing him, but with the absence of them you didn’t know what to expect. You clenched your hands against each other.

Come on, say something. Even if it’s just to call me an intruder. Just odn’t let me without a response.

And, then, Shinjuro gave you a response… and though you didn’t know what you were waiting for, it was different from anything you could’ve expected.

– The servants’ payments are delayed. I know that – he started; no impatience was sensed in his tone, just a sort of boredom – Our accountant left, and no one was able to properly replace him. Senjuro found out about this and asked to do something, and I had no choice. He’s better with paper and ink than with a sword. Besides, having responsibilities would be good for him to grow up.

You made an inhuman effort not to gasp at his justifications. Did he really think leaving that work for a kid was a good idea? But you reminded yourself that you weren’t there to argue, but to fix the problem, so you let him continue.

– Of course, I knew it wouldn’t work forever, and if you came to talk about this, it’s because it needs to change – he sighed – But let me tell you that the payments aren’t delayed for no reason. Things have been difficult for us, and hiring someone to manage finances won’t be cheap. It’s something we can’t deal with it right now. So, what do you suggest? Should I hire a new accountant anyway?

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You understood that, if Shinjuro wasn’t even trying to hide those problems, they must have become really serious. You also knew that the services of accountants and administrators weren’t cheap, but that wasn’t a good reason to let everything to Senjuro.

I can’t believe I’m going to propose this…

Your husband asked a suggestion, and you ended up offering the only one you could think of.

– Let this task with me, Rengoku-sama – you bowed, leaning your hands on the floor but not touching it with your forehead – I used to do this sort of work while in my father’s house in the times we were on a budget and unable to hire someone for it. I didn’t continue to work on this when the crisis with the Oni started because I was sent here.

He thought of this for a moment… And the response he gave you brought out some unpleasantness, both in his words and the subject.

– Leaving the money in your hands to manage? Y/n, I do believe your father let you work on this, but I can’t help finding it strange that, exactly when your lands were facing the worst crisis in a long time, he decided to send you away instead of keeping you there to take care of everything.

Still with your head bowed, you bit your lip.

Are you calling me an incompetent or what?

Shinjuro was aware of the delicate state in which your relationship with father was, so bringing it to the table right now had no intention but to test you: would you have the necessary stability to take such responsibility? As if he had any right to speak of stability… Well, in spite of that, he was the head of that house, thus having the final word in this matter, so if he decided to decline your offer, he would do it without thinking twice, and then your attempt to help the workers – as well as their trust in you – would drift away.

Alright, start whining and all this conversation will end up useless. I’ll swallow my inflamed ego, then.

You raised your head, ignored the provocation and sent it back to your husband.

– I agree. It’s really strange when you put it that way, Rengoku-sama… – your hands relaxed on your lap – As much as it’s strange that, despite the similar issues in you house which you’ve just addressed, you accepted me as an extra mouth to feed under your roof.

Not so strange when we remember the existence of my dowry, I mean.

If Shinjuro guessed this very thought or if he was not in the mood to continue that discussion, you’d never know, but that was precisely what he did: gave up on arguing and just left it up to you.

He stood up and walked to the porch, indicating that the conversation was over.

– Do as you wish, then. The old accountant’s office is on the other side of the house. It’s easier to access it if you walk around the porch. Senjuro knows exactly where it is. Ask him for help if you need it.

You stared at him for a moment. So everything was solved so easily? Or was it just you who were exaggerating the difficult of your task? It was impossible to know, and you wouldn’t stay there to find out: you just accepted the results and stood up, heading to the exit.

You passed by your husband and bowed again.

– Thank you for accepting my proposal, Rengoku-sama. I’ll do my best.

The only response you had from him was a nod, and you left to find the said office thinking of how strange was that man you married, how tricky it has been for you to understand him and what sort of things were waiting for you in that corner of the house.

[ageofhearingloss]

Talk ⎮ Sam Kiszka x Reader

a/n: i've got hozier on the mind, people! sorry! this idea has been banging around in my head for a while, and since i can only write angst, here y'all go (sammy nation, just email me an invoice for your therapy) ((and look at the lyrics to this song!))

thank you @sacredjake for the pic (credit to owner!) and @gold-mines-melting for editing and being my second set of eyes; it truly takes a village lol

pairing: asshole!sam kiszka x fem reader

summary: you hated sam, you really did, but one fateful night he gets under your skin in more ways than one.

warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, minors DO NOT INTERACT!!! angst, alcohol consumption, stubborn mean asshole sammy (my guilty pleasure), petty y/n (she is by no means blameless LOLLLL) degradation, name calling, hate sex, unprotected p in v (please be safe, folks), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), spanking, choking, pls let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 8.3k

You couldn’t stand his face. The cadence of his voice. The smirk that would splay across his lips when he found another woman to lead on only to inevitably gaslight her and leave her hanging once the night was through. You really couldn’t stand any of it.

And now, posted up on the side of the bar with your friends, you were seeing red watching Sam comb his fingers through some innocent woman’s hair as he leaned in close to her to undoubtedly whisper a slew of nonsense. 

“You know, you really shouldn’t let him get to you as much as he does,” your best friend, Danny, murmured, shaking you from your spiraling thoughts. “He’s way more harmless than he looks.”

You sighed, turning your head back down to the drink in your hands that was now mostly water and melting ice. 

“Did you really have to bring him with you tonight? Like, I know he’s your friend and your brother and all, but-”

Josh clapped you on the back, signifying his return from wherever he scampered off to. 

“That’s right, mama, he’s our brother. Unfortunately, we’ve had to learn how to live with his antics, and you might as well, too.”

The glare you shot Josh had him retreating his hand from your back, slowly backing away with arms raised, signifying his surrender as a chuckling Jake took the spot beside him.

“Yeah, well you might want to give him that pep talk, too, Josh. I know he feels the same way about me as I do him.” Jake’s smile only widened as he brought his glass to his lips, muttering something that wasn’t quite loud enough for your ears to pick up, but earned him a jab in the stomach from his twin.

The blood pulsing through your veins was beginning to turn scalding hot as you turned to take in the scene that was unfolding between Sam and his mystery woman of the night. He now had his arms snaked low around her waist, kissing and nibbling at her ear as she blushed and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. 

“Relax your jaw, honey, you’re gonna give yourself a headache,” Danny cooed from over your shoulder, bringing a reassuring hand to the middle of your back as you continued to stare, imagining lasers darting from your eyes to shoot right through Sam’s head. 

“How can you all tolerate,” you gestured towards Sam, “this? It doesn’t bother you at all? His blatant disrespect for any woman that walks the earth?”

“Of course it bothers us, darling,” Jake started, coming up beside you to watch Sam as well, “but you know Sam. He is never going to quit doing something unless he finds out the hard way for himself, no matter what any of us tell him. One of these days Karma will get him, and I personally can’t wait to watch.” 

He was right, of course, and that was one of the things that drove you craziest about Samuel. Sam was headstrong and stubborn, refusing to listen to any advice given to him and always getting burned in the long run, even if he didn’t realize it at the time. He was arrogant, smug, self-righteous, and always had to have his way, and the thought of him using this poor girl to his own advantage only to gaslight her and leave was about the last thing you could tolerate. 

The worst part of it was that you had always secretly found Sam attractive, and sometimes there would be an all-knowing flash in his eyes when you two were bickering that suggested that perhaps he actually liked getting a rise out of you. The curve of his smirk, the twinkle of his honey-brown eyes, he had to know. And it all pissed you off further. 

You hadn’t realized that you zoned out, still locked on Sam, until his eyes met yours. The woman he had in his arms was now buried in his neck, reciting whatever sweet nothings Sam had definitely spewed to her, and once his gaze found yours, a sinful smile began to creep up on his lips. 

Fuck him. 

Flustered, you turn back to the bar, dropping your head to try to hide your rising blush from Danny and the twins. You had to get out of there. 

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom quick, I’ll be right back,” you explained as you shot off your barstool, knowing that the bathrooms were just past Sam. The company of three hummed in acknowledgement, already deep within a conversation about the studio session they had earlier that day. 

You didn’t know why you felt this way. Sure, you hated the guy, but why was he able to get under your skin so easily? Every action he made ignited a new fire within you, every word that dripped from his plush lips was poison to your ears. And you knew it was childish, but you had to do something to not let that girl be a pawn in another one of Samuel’s selfish chess games. 

You knew it was extremely childish as you approached the couple, slightly hip-checking Sam as you stormed past, causing a gasp to tumble from him as he bumped into the woman before him, causing him to spill his drink down her front. You didn’t stop to apologize even though your right mind was telling you to turn around and grovel on your hands and knees for forgiveness; no, you continued on your path to the ladies restroom, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. 

~~~~~~

You were leaning over the sink touching up your lipstick when the faint click of the lock sounded from the door. Through the reflection in the mirror, you could see Sam entering the bathroom and turning the lock before he settled his weight up against the wood, arms crossed and a purely sour look on his face. 

“I believe you’re looking for the room next door, Samuel,” you started, placing the cap back on the bullet and straightening before the mirror, tousling your hair slightly. You needed to keep your hands busy; you’ve never seen him this angry and you knew you should be nervous, but you were too busy damning yourself for the heat that flooded to your face and the sudden clenching of your thighs. He was pissed. Good. 

“That was a low blow, even for you.” His voice was gravelly and hoarse, any semblance of playfulness worlds away from the shitty dive bar that you two occupied. You watched Sam as he shoved off the door, stalking towards where you stood only to stop short a few feet behind, his eyes burning into your reflection. “I could’ve sworn there was a hint of jealousy in your eyes when you were admiring me from across the room.”

Your stare darkened and your jaw tensed. 

“You can only be jealous of something you want, Sam, and the last thing I want to be is your conquest for the night.” 

The sides of his mouth twitched in what you could’ve sworn was going to be a smile, but he masked his amusement quickly as he inched closer to you, a lion stalking its prey. 

“You’re really telling me you just happened to trip and fall into me, doll?” The nickname left his lips with a condescending tilt of his head. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

Having had enough, you dropped his glare, throwing your lipstick in your bag and whirling around to face him, leaning your weight slightly on the countertop behind you. 

“Fine,” you relented, crossing your arms, “but it was never because I was jealous, let me make that fucking clear. It’s because you’re one of the biggest self-righteous assholes that I have ever met and I couldn’t watch you ruin yet another woman's night beyond some club soda spilled on her shirt.”

“I’m pretty sure I was about to make her whole night, Y/n, not ruin it.”

“Really?” You were certain steam was coming out of your ears at this point. “What was going to be your excuse tonight, hm? Telling these people exactly what they want to hear despite your worst intentions,” you dared a step closer to him, “deceiving them, convincing them that you want “the exact same thing” that they do, when all you want is a pretty plaything to warm your dick.” One more step closer. “Making them all trust you before you leave in the middle of the night and block their number, never to be seen again.” You were close enough to him now that you pressed your index finger to his chest as you seethed through clenched teeth, “You make me fucking sick.”

His hand wrapped around your wrist in a vise-like grip, hatred and something that looked like lust dancing in his eyes as he brought his face inches away from yours. “You could only wish that you were the pretty plaything I get to warm my dick with.”

That was the last thing you thought he’d say and it was obvious by how your jaw hung open, causing a low chuckle to rumble out of Sam’s chest. He threw your wrist down as he straightened and turned on his heel, heading for the door. 

With his fingers about to turn the lock, he threw you a glance over his shoulder,

“And you’ll catch flies in your mouth with that dumb ass look on your face.”

~~~~~~

Trying to settle your racing thoughts, you stalked back to where your friends sat at the bar, seemingly far more intoxicated now than when you had left them. You laughed under your breath as you approached them, setting your bag down on the bar and reclaiming your stool. 

“Daniel called Jake “Little Man” so Jake bet Daniel that he can hold his liquor better than him even though he’s shorter,” Josh leaned over to explain, a Cheshire cat grin on his face, “so now they’re in a pissing contest.” 

“Oh no,” you chuckled out, rubbing your hand in small circles on Danny’s back as Jake stuck his tongue out at him, “you know Jake can drink you under the table any day.”

Danny tilted his head to blink up at you, his eyes impossibly droopy. “I had to at least try, honey,” he managed to slur out, that dopey smirk you’ve come to love so much making an appearance.  “And you’ll never, EVER, succeed, you prick!” Jake shouted in his British accent as he slammed his hand down on the sticky counter, earning genuine belly laughs from the entire group and annoyed groans from the other patrons in the bar.

Josh hurriedly hopped off his stool, going to place an arm around his twin's shoulder. “And with that,” he shook Jake a little bit, “I think it’s our time to leave.” He coaxed Jake off of his stool, albeit a tad reluctantly, and closed their tab with the bartender. Josh turned to you, “I’ll get him home, do you think you can manage Daniel?”

“Yeah, do you think you can manage me?” Danny hiccupped, trying to get off his stool and stumbling a bit. “Yes, you big lug,” you wrapped your arm around his torso, making sure his own was secured around your shoulders as you tried to support his weight, “and I’ve dealt with you in far worse situations.”

He giggled as the two of you waved goodbye to the twins, Josh laughing as Jake staggered out of the front door. 

“Alright,” you turned your attention back to Danny, “you ready to go? You’re gonna crash on my couch, I don’t trust you to be out of my sight.” He let out a shocked gasp, his free arm moving to clutch at his chest in faux disbelief before he blurted out, “Sammy.”

Ugh, that’s right. Where the fuck was he?

You groaned as you scanned the bar, seeing Sam tucked away in a booth nearby with a new woman, the previous one shooting daggers from her eyes at him from her spot in a booth not too far away. You still had your arm wrapped around Danny as you barked out, “Sam! We’re leaving!”

Sam looked over at you with disgust, clearly upset that you interrupted him once again before he saw Danny tucked in your grip. 

“Ooooooh Sammy boy, it’s time to go hooooommeee!” Danny yelled in his best sing-song voice, and you watched in awe as Sam’s face shifted from anger and attitude to one of fondness and humor. He smiled at his friend, the admiration in his eyes shining through.

If only he could act this way with everyone. 

“Okay, okay asshole, I’m coming,” Sam laughed back from his seat, dismissing himself from his companion and swaggering over to you and Danny. Without saying another word, he pulled Danny’s other arm around his shoulders, the two of you supporting the weight of the drunken curly-haired man between you. 

Sam leaned forward a bit to catch your attention, “So, what's the plan?”

“I’m gonna take him to my place, get some Alka-seltzer in him before he passes out on the couch,” you explained. You appreciated that you both could drop the act for a second, more concerned about helping your mutual friend than bickering. “If you could just help me get him to my car, that’d be great.”

Sam nodded his understanding, but asked, “And are you going to be able to get him up the stairs to your apartment by yourself?” He had a good point, the stairs to your place were treacherous being that you lived on the fourth floor, the stairwell full of angled turns that you were sure you’d have to drag Daniel up. 

You sighed, “Probably not, would you mind helping me?”

Danny chimed in, “I can walk up the stairs just fine, thank you very much,” trying his best to convince you both but the tripping of his feet told you everything you needed to know. 

Sam smirked with a hint of fire in his eyes, intentionally ignoring Danny’s plea, “I thought you’d never ask.”

~~~~~~

“C’mon Danny, just a few more flights,” you begged, Danny dragging along like dead weight between you and Sam. Thankfully, the ride home had been bearable, Sam too focused on his friend to pay any attention to you as you drove. You were grateful for that fact, definitely less than pleased that Sam would be stepping through the threshold of your home even if it was for a good cause. The other men had been to your place plenty of times, but you had a strict rule about not letting Sam over. Didn’t want his energy in your space. 

“You got this, Dan, come on buddy,” Sam chimed in with you, readjusting Danny’s arm around his shoulder, hauling him up the stairs. Finally, you made it to the landing where your front door stood, and you shimmied out from under Danny’s arm as you fumbled for your keys. 

“I love you guys,” Danny mumbled out, wrapping his now-free arm around Sam and bringing him into a bear hug that had Sam laughing. You couldn’t help but chuckle too; your best friend was a sentimental drunk. 

“Yeah, we love you too, you flirt,” Sam said, clapping his hand on the man's back as you unlocked the door and held it open for them to stumble through. “I’m not a flirt,” you heard Danny say, almost unintelligible as they passed you and headed over to the couch, thankfully not too far from your front door. You watched for a minute as Sam set Danny down on the cushions, then immediately crouched down in front of his friend and began untying the laces of Danny’s beat up Vans.

You remembered Danny’s words from earlier that night: “He’s way more harmless than he looks.” Maybe he was right, but it would take a whole lot more than that to convince you that Sam was a genuinely good person. 

‘Would take a whole personality change, you thought as you shut and locked the front door. 

“Can you get him situated? I’m gonna grab him some water and meds,” you called, already heading towards your kitchen. Sam waved you off, which you took as a ‘yes’, and left the room. As you rummaged through your cupboards, you reminded yourself of all the things you disliked about Sam; you weren’t going to let this one act of kindness get to you. Besides, you’ve witnessed some truly despicable things from him. 

Plopping two antacid tablets in a cup of water, you hurried back to the living room, seeing that Danny was now horizontal on your couch, his head propped up behind a couple of decorative pillows. Sam grabbed a blanket from the basket that sat on the floor and draped it over him before sitting on the arm of the couch by Danny’s feet. Making your way over to your friend, you saw that his eyes were closed, already dozing off. You scratched his head lightly, causing his eyes to open a smidge. 

“Take a couple sips of it, then you can go to sleep,” you cooed, his hand coming up to grab the cup and bringing it to his lips. “Thanks, honey,” he whispered after drinking half the glass and handing it back to you, smiling up at you as he laid his head back on the pillow. You leaned over to set the cup on the end table by Danny’s head, then moved to kneel next to the couch, running your fingers through his hair to coax him to sleep. His eyes immediately drifted shut, and soon enough his breathing evened out, faint snores coming from his slightly parted lips. You smiled to yourself, purposefully forgetting that the man you despised sat no more than 10 feet away from you, watching silently as you took care of his friend. Sleep wasn’t too far off for you, either, and you desperately needed to get out of your clothes and into something comfy, but before you could get up, Sam cleared his throat, reminding you of his presence.

“I’m gonna stay with him for a little while longer, if that’s okay with you,” he said softly, not a hint of the usual arrogance in his tone. You blinked at him, a little stunned by the kindness of the gesture and the gentleness of his words. “Oh come on, Y/n, I know I’m a dick but I’m not that heartless.”

And there’s the asshole I know. 

You stood, stretching a bit before landing your eyes on him again. “You can do whatever you want, I’m gonna go get ready for bed. You can let yourself out when you’re ready.” Not bothering to wait for an answer, you turned on your heel and started towards your bedroom; you weren’t too interested in what he had to say anyways. 

To your dismay, sleep completely evaded you the second your head hit the pillow. Teeth brushed, face washed and in a big, comfy t-shirt, you tossed and turned in your bed, finally deciding to turn back on your salt lamp. Josh had told you once or twice that it’s better to get up and do something if you can’t sleep rather than just stare at the ceiling, so you decided to heed his advice. 

You checked the time on your phone; it had been an hour or so since you left the boys in your living room. You knew Danny would sleep through the night no problem, and you could have sworn that you heard the front door slam a half hour ago, signifying Sam’s departure. 

You locked your phone and put it back on your nightstand. 

Sam. 

You flipped on your back and huffed out a sigh; you couldn’t believe that he had been in your apartment. Reliving the events from the night, your blood began to heat again, remembering just how infuriating he had been at the bar. How rude he had been to those women. How hot you had found it that he locked the both of you in the bathroom, and how your thighs clenched when he grabbed your wrist. 

How could you be this attracted to a man you despised? It made your anger grow tenfold, trying desperately to convince yourself that he did not have this effect on you, that you were simply tired and touch-deprived and that was the reason why your mind was stooping so low. But the more that you thought about him from the sanctuary of your bed, the needier you became. It was just physical attraction, right? There’s nothing wrong with that, you repeated in your mind, knowing damn well that you were going to beat yourself up in the morning for what you were about to do. 

Alright Josh,  I’ll do something, you thought as you opened the drawer on your nightstand, grabbing your vibrator that kept you company on nights like these. 

Back bowing off the mattress, you held your breath as your eyes screwed shut, your release just out of arm's reach. Thoughts of Sam swirled in your mind's eye, imagining the way his guitar fingers would feel pressed into the canvas of your skin, the song your name would sound like when it dripped from his lips. Your orgasm was speeding towards you, the wave cresting and about to crash, when the sound of your bedroom door shutting snapped you back to reality. 

Your eyes shot open as you bolted straight up, your vibrator still buzzing away beneath the bed sheets. 

“Please, don’t stop on my behalf.”

Sam stood with his back pressed against your door, a mirror image of his actions from earlier. Arms crossed, a devilish smirk on his face that you wish you could smack right off. And you would get up to do it if only you were wearing pants. 

“GET OUT!” You hissed, your vision blurry with rage as you chucked your pillow at him with little thought. He side-stepped it easily, not paying the plush fabric any mind.

“In my defense, I knocked,” his head tilted up so he could look down his nose at you, “twice. Seems like you were too preoccupied to hear me.”

“Sam, I told you to get out! Why are you still here, anyways?” You fumbled for your vibrator under the sheets, finally switching it off, shrouding your room in silence. 

“Well,” he shoved off the door, eyes still glued to you, “I was coming to ask you if there was a pot or bowl or something I could set next to Dan in case he needed to throw up.” He made it to the foot of your bed, looking down at your exposed leg that was visible from beneath your blankets and slowly trailed his gaze to your beet-red face. 

You pulled the blankets so your bottom half was completely covered, “There are things underneath the kitchen island, okay? Just please, for the love of god, get out of my fucking room!” You yelled at him; you desperately needed him to leave so you could focus on your breathing and not on the wetness collecting on the insides of your thighs. 

But Sam clearly had other plans as he sat at the foot of your bed, not bothering to say a word for what felt like ages. 

“Bet I could do a better job than that bit of plastic.” 

What? Were you hearing him correctly?

Your eyebrows shot up as you tried to find words, but his statement had shocked your brain into malfunction.

“I’m just saying,” he glanced at the lump underneath the blankets next to you, to the toy that hid beneath, “I’m right here. And I could do a better job.”

“Are you fucking serious right now, Sam?”

His smirk dropped and was replaced by a sternness that you’ve never seen from him as he leaned ever so slightly closer to you. 

“That depends, are you considering it?”

“No way, I fucking hate you!” You tried to whip your other pillow at him but he caught it effortlessly, holding your stare with an eyebrow raised. 

Of course you were considering it, you had been seconds away from your own release that was brought on by lewd thoughts of him, and now that he sat at the edge of your bed, looking positively sinful… How could you not consider?

“Likewise, but I’ve seen the way you look at me. You think I don’t notice, but I do.” The smirk came back. That stupid, gut-wrenching smirk. “And I think I’ve made myself clear about what I think of you.”

“And what do you think of me, Samuel?” That piqued your interest, subconsciously mirroring his actions and leaning your body closer to his.

His voice was a low rumble in his chest as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. 

“I think you’re a brat, you’re entitled.” Suddenly, he was shifting his position, climbing onto your bed on his hands and knees.

“You have a big mouth.”

He moved closer to you. 

“You ruin my fun.”

Closer still.

“I can’t fucking stand that you’re close with my brothers.”

Closer.

“I fucking despise being around you,”

His arms encased your legs on either side of them, his head mere inches away from yours, and just barely a whisper, he breathed,

“And yet I dream of all the pretty noises I could coax out of you while you’re in my bed.” He glanced down at his hands and grabbed the sheets, “Or your bed, apparently.” 

“You talk a big game as if you didn’t just say you think about fucking me,” you said lowly, thankfully your voice steadier than how you truly felt. “I can see it in your eyes when you're spouting your stupid shit to me, even before you admitted it.”

Sitting up further on the bed, you pressed your back against your headboard, having more room now that your pillows were scattered remains on the floor. Your confidence swelled; the man you hated had just revealed that he dreamt of having you, taking you, and you weren’t going to let that bit of information go to waste. 

“You know what I think, Sam? I think there’s a different reason why you can’t keep a girl longer than one night,” you mused, crossing your arms and feigning disinterest. 

“And what would that be, doll?” 

It was your turn to look down your nose at him, causing that wicked grin to crawl upon his features. 

“You’re a little attention whore. You want these girls to want you, and once they do, you get bored. Such a fucking asshole. You want them to think about you, to get all hot and bothered by you, and you toy with their hearts cause you truly don’t want any of them, do you?”

Sam was back hovering over you in an instant, one of his hands gripping your cheeks so your lips puckered slightly, his eyes searing into your soul as your own were blown wide. 

“Tell me what I want.”

You tilted your chin up a little more, your nose nearly brushing his as you fixed your stare; it was your turn for a devilish smile. 

“You’ve always wanted me, haven’t you?”

His hand left your cheek in favor of caressing your jawline, his slender fingers pausing underneath your chin as he brought his face ever closer to yours as you asked, “Do you wanna fuck me?”

Genuine amusement shown on his features for a split second before he regained his composure, humor still dancing in the chocolate of his eyes,

“I really want to, doll, but you know that.” His thumb brushed against your lips; the gentleness that would pop up here and there was still surprising you, being as it wasn’t something you were used to. Maybe if you had paid more attention to him you would have picked up on it, but you were never interested in getting to know him more than the bare minimum. Maybe until now… “Do you want to?”

Was this really happening? You knew you wanted him, needed him, badly, but what would happen tomorrow? A week from now when you inevitably would see him at the bar? Oh god, and Danny was still asleep on your couch not too far away… 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He whispered. 

“Yes, I want you to fuck me, Sam.”

His face darkened nearly instantaneously, the leash on his composure snapping. The light hand underneath your chin traveled quickly to your throat, and you felt his calloused fingers squeeze the sides of your neck as he breathed into your ear, 

“Yellow, we slow down and talk. Red, we stop altogether.” You sucked a sharp inhale through your nose; you couldn’t believe how excited you were. “Or tap me three times, I’ll know what it means.”

He didn’t have to look down at your body to feel you squirming in place, for he knew exactly what he was doing to you. And when you felt his lips curl into a smile against the shell of your ear, the leash holding you back snapped as well. 

“Green.”

That was all he needed. Before you knew it, Sam had let go of your throat with a hint of force, hopping up to yank you to the foot of the bed by your ankles, bringing you to lay flat on your mattress. He rolled his eyes as a faint gasp escaped you, every movement he made shocked you slightly. Straightening to his full height, he began removing his clothes, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his display; you’ve never even seen him shirtless before. 

The outfit he wore tonight was one of your favorites- a pair of black slacks that fit him a little too tightly, not that you were complaining, and a cream colored corduroy button up, buttoned only at his navel, a page out of his older brother's book. A small, navy crystal in the shape of a triangle hung as a pendant around his neck. Simple, but elegant. You could see he was unbelievably hard already, straining in the confines of his pants, and secretly you knew he was getting off on watching you watch him, only further confirming his need and love for attention. 

He forwent unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion, revealing his slim, tanned torso. It felt nice to have an excuse to marvel at his beauty, to take a moment to really look at him without any malcontent. 

“Like what you see, princess?”

Nevermind. 

You flopped back down on the bed, causing your t-shirt to hike up a little higher. The blankets and sheets were still hiding you from him so he couldn’t see your exposed skin, but you were growing impatient, ready to throw them off of you. Ready to pull Sam on top of you. The mental notes you had taken suggested that if you pushed the right buttons, he’d easily give you what you wanted. 

“You ruin everything when you speak, Samuel,” you sighed, doing your best to look disappointed. 

His eyebrows shot up as he tied his hair back in a low bun; the feral look in his eyes told you that he wasn’t going to tolerate much more. 

Good. 

Ripping the blankets off of your body, he threw them to the floor. The cool air in your bedroom lapped at your bare legs, sending a kiss straight to your core. And then he was pinning your legs open with both of his knees, his hands planted on either side of your head, bits of hair already falling from his bun and curtaining your vision. 

“You’re such a fucking tease, princess.” He dipped his chin to his chest to assess the mess that had already gathered at the apex of your thighs. “And you’re already so wet for me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, did you forget-”

“Forget about this?” He reached across your mattress to grab your vibrator, cold and lonely. “How could I?”

The teasing was becoming unbearable and you debated whether you should just toss him out of your room and get back to your night with your trusty toy. 

“Can you either shut up or put your mouth to good use?” You huffed. 

A saccharine smile as he bent closer, a promise of a kiss as he whispered, “I intend to take my time with you, to make you scream and wake poor Daniel up.”

He was about to capture your lips with his and as much as you wish he would, your annoyance was still at the forefront of your mind. Since both of your hands were free, you used one to clamp over his mouth, his eyes shooting open in surprise. 

“Ah ah ah,” you tutted, “I don’t think you’ve earned that privilege.” You turned on your best set of doe eyes as you cooed, “Find another use for your mouth.”

Sam playfully nipped at the palm of your hand before rising on his knees, stretching your legs even further, a look of pure wonder as he observed you spread out for him. He dropped your toy in favor of using his hands to roam over your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt that was now bunched up on your hips. You helped him pull it over your head, and once his hands were free of the fabric, they were sweeping over your skin anywhere he could touch; swiping his thumbs on the smooth skin underneath your breasts, running his fingers over your ribs and down the sides of your waist, until they landed on on the divots where your hips met your thighs. And he stole the air out of your lungs as he breathed to himself, “Stunning.”

But he moved on quickly, moving to lay flat on his stomach in between your legs, picking up your vibrator in his left hand. Catching your stare as he lowered his mouth to where you needed him most, he shot you a wink before diving into your cunt, sending a long stripe from his tongue from your entrance up to your clit. It all happened so quickly, and you gasped as your head shot back onto the mattress, hands flying to the silky roots of his hair. 

He hummed against you immediately, causing delicious vibrations to shoot straight through your system. Stars were illuminating the backs of your eyelids as he devoured you with a fervor no partner has ever rivaled, and you silently cursed him, knowing that you would unfortunately be craving this night after night. 

The pleasure was short lived, however, as he withdrew his lips that were attached to your clit. You lifted your head up and shot him a look of utter annoyance, only to then hear the faint buzzing of your vibrator. 

“Didn’t you say you could do a better job than that thing?”

“Yes, and I am,” he smirked, using his free hand to trace your entrance and gather your slick on his fingers. He held them up to show you, “I just thought since you wanted to cum so badly with it, I’d have to make you.”

Your groan of distaste quickly turned more guttural as he pressed the silicone directly on your throbbing clit. A dark chuckle rang out through your room as he watched you begin to writhe on the mattress, your hands gripping the sheets as if your life depended on it. There was no build up; he had turned your toy to its highest setting and pressed it against you with enough pressure to send you into oblivion. Your moans continued to grow louder, your orgasm nearer to you than you had estimated. 

The fingers on his free hand began dancing around your dripping entrance, and you forced your eyes open to watch as he slid two fingers inside you, curling them to the perfect angle that caused his name to tumble past your lips. 

“Shhh…” he started condescendingly, “What would Daniel think? Hearing you be such a fucking whore for me.” You whimpered, trying to quiet yourself and prolong the inevitable release that would soon crash into you. “What is it he always calls you?” His tone was mocking, his eyes blown with lust and his mouth slightly agape. Until he snapped his eyes to yours, “Honey?”

“D-don’t,” you whined, but your body betrayed you as you clenched around his fingers. 

“Oh, you just love it when he calls you that, don’t you? I can’t wait to tell him what it does to you.” His fingers sped up their pace as your thighs began to tremble, your walls fluttering around him. “C’mon, give it up, honey, I know you’re there.”

Your back bowed off the mattress for the second time tonight, eyes screwing shut as the ball of tension in your stomach finally snapped and you were clamping around his fingers, vibrator still buzzing away with all its might. 

“That’s it, princess, cum for me,” he cooed, slowing his fingers but not taking the toy away as he watched in awe while you rode out your orgasm, twisting and turning on the mattress beneath him. 

It wasn’t long before overstimulation had you in its grasp, and you grabbed his wrist with more force than you thought you had in you, silently begging him to let up. He looked at you, batting his eyelashes, and you prepared yourself for more nonsense to fall from his lips. 

“I thought you wanted to cum so badly?”

“Sam, please,” you admitted defeat, “I can’t do another.” Steadying yourself with deep breaths through your nose, pleading with your eyes for him to show you mercy.

But your jaw dropped as he genuinely laughed at you, a malicious sounding noise filling the space. 

“Told you you’d catch flies with that dumb ass look on your face.” He finally withdrew both the toy from your oversensitive clit and his fingers from inside you, bringing the digits to your open mouth and placing them on your tongue. You hollowed out your cheeks instantly, tasting yourself and humming around his fingers. 

“Who knew that such a brat would end up being so good for me.”

That wasn’t going to slide, and he knew he made a mistake when he caught the mischievous glint in your eyes mere moments before you bit down on his fingers. However, your plan backfired, and before you knew it, the same hand was wrapped around your throat again, anger written plainly on his face. 

“I’m getting real fucking sick of your attitude, Y/n. You should be on your knees thanking me that I let you cum.” Your eyes narrowed, his words causing your own annoyance to ignite once again. “Actually, that’s what you’re going to do. Hands and knees.”

He released his iron grip and yanked you up to a sitting position, but all you could bring yourself to do was cross your arms. 

“Let me? You’re the one who barged into my room and ruined everything.”

“On your hands and knees, now.”

Oh, this was too much fun. And you let him know so with a smirk curling on your lips. 

“Make me.”

His arms were around you in an instant, hauling you up and effectively flipping you onto your stomach with a slight bounce off the mattress. Your hair caught around your eyes and in your mouth at how swift the motion was, and felt his hands wrap around your belly and lift up, forcing you to hold your weight with your hands and knees. Your own curiosity had you biting back your witty retort; you were intrigued to know if he would hold onto this dominant streak. 

His weight left the mattress as you huffed in exasperation, trying to pretend you were growing bored even though you were anything but. And when you heard the faint unzipping of his pants, you couldn’t help but crane your neck over to where he was, catching him just in time to watch him free his length from his briefs and kick off his pants. Fuck, he was positively huge, and of course every single part of him was beautiful. 

He vanished from your vision quickly and you felt him kneel behind you, causing your heart rate to quicken. However, he didn’t move to touch you. 

“I’m growing tired, Samuel,” you pretended to yawn, “if you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave-”

His fist was in your hair immediately, pulling you up so your back was flush with his chest. 

“For the sake of both of us,” he hissed into your ear, “I suggest you drop the act, princess.”

Your world was spinning as he threw you back onto the mattress, one of his large hands splaying across your back and pushing you even further into it, causing your ass to rise in the air. 

“You’re going to take what I give you.” A gasp left your lungs as his free hand landed a sharp smack against the side of your thigh, “And you’re going to be fucking grateful for it.” Another harsh smack, this one directly on the flesh of your ass. 

“If you think for a second,” smack, “about spouting your bullshit,” smack, “I’ll make sure you regret it.” He began running his hand over the red, swollen skin, soothing the bruises that were sure to make their appearance tomorrow. 

“Color?” Softness returned to his voice, the calluses on his fingertips lightly moving to trace your shoulder blades. 

“Green,” you gritted out, “green, you fucking asshole, keep going.”

The dominance switched back in an instant, his hands flying to your ass cheeks and spreading you wide open. The display had you clenching around nothing, ever eager for him to finally fill you up. 

“How sweet,” he cooed, gripping his cock and running the tip through your folds, gathering up your wetness and smearing it along his length, “she’s blowing me kisses.”

The words you were about to let fly caught in your throat as he slowly pushed into you, stretching you in a delicious way that your body had never felt before. The two of you groaned in tandem; you could feel him pulsating as he bottomed out, stilling for a moment to let you get used to his size. You hated to admit it, but it felt like he was made for you; no one had fit so perfectly inside you. 

“Fuck, Y/n, you feel incredible.” His harsh attitude was faltering, you could tell, as he leaned forward to brush your hair out of your eyes, your head turned to the side with your cheek against the mattress. You would’ve found it endearing, if it were anyone but him, and you let him know that fact with a look of annoyance from out of your peripheral. 

“Move, you bastard.” Once again, playing the game to get what you want. And with a hand pressing the side of your face into the mattress, he started on a gruelingly harsh pace that had moans tumbling from your mouth with reckless abandon. 

The sound of skin slapping against itself filled the room, accompanied by Sam’s filthy words and your pathetic moans. He was drilling into you with every ounce of power in his body, and you imagined how heavenly he must look with sweat dripping down his chest and his eyebrows knitted together. You would’ve turned to look back at him had your eyes not been rolled back into your skull, your groans and pleas becoming an endless mantra that only spurred him on further. 

Finally, he enveloped both of your wrists within a hand, tugging you upwards so that your back was sticking against his chest, the new angle causing you to yelp out a curse of his name. Your head lulled back onto his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to nip at your ear as he continued his murderous pace. 

“Look at you,” he panted into your ear, “you’re cock drunk on me already.” He groaned as you twisted your hands free, snaking them back into his drenched hair. You could tell he was getting close to his release, his thrusts beginning to falter ever so slightly, and that thought had you clenching down around him, ready to drain him of everything he was worth. 

“Shit, honey, if you keep doing that, I won’t last much longer,” he whined, trailing a hand down your front and settling to rub fast circles around your clit. 

“Don’t-” you gasped, trying to get your words out, “don’t call me honey.” 

He huffed a breath in your ear, “I think we’re well past that-” His circles quickened, your thighs beginning to shake as you could see your own orgasm on the horizon. 

You needed to spur him on one last time. You needed him to continue his pace. You needed to get in one more jab before you both reached your end. And by some miracle, you found your voice. 

“Fuck, Sam! God, I fucking hate you-”

His hips bucked and he let out the most obscene moan you had heard from him all night, one that would forever be cemented in your brain. “Fuck, say that again, Y/n,” he breathed, pushing you back against the mattress so he had more leverage to pound into you, fingers still working your clit. 

Your eyes screwed shut as you gripped the sheets, the leash on your release about to snap.

“I-” His hand landed another sharp slap against your ass, causing you to gasp and clamp down hard on his cock, the words dying on your tongue. 

“Please, say it again, I’m so fucking close.”

“Sam,” you whined, “I’m gonna cum, please keep going.”

“Say it,” he seethed, his pace not relenting even though you could hear him panting.

Tears were brimming in your eyes, and you could feel them spill over as you choked out, 

“I fucking hate you.”

You could feel him swelling inside you, his breathing turning into pitchy moans. 

“Where can I-”

“Inside, do it.”

That was the last bit of convincing he needed before he bent over you, sheathing himself even further as he spilled inside of you, a string of curses mixing in with praises of your name. Hearing your name fall so freely and adoringly from his lips caused your own orgasm to finally crash into you, turning your vision white and your ears to ring. You could faintly hear him hiss as you clenched and fluttered around his sensitive cock, but your body and mind were floating, skin prickling and tingling as he rode you through your high. 

Hands massaging your shoulders kept you tethered to the earth, bringing you back into your mind as you began to settle, your chest heaving and your throat a bit hoarse from the volume of your moans. 

“Come back to me princess, come on,” he wiped your brow, coaxing your eyes to flutter open. Once he saw that you were present in your body, he withdrew from you, causing you both to shudder and wince. 

After a few long minutes of catching your breath, he stood, rummaging through the pile of clothes, pillows, and blankets that were strewn across the floor. Plucking up your sleep shirt you had been wearing not too long ago, he brought it over to you, kneeling on the bed to wipe up your mixed releases that had begun to collect on your thighs and bed sheets. 

You hissed through your teeth; you were a lot more sensitive than you had thought you’d be, surely going to be sore in the morning. 

“You really had to use my shirt for this? I have towels in the bathroom.”

He smiled to himself, an action he didn’t think you would catch as you watched him clean you up. 

“Glad to see your attitude hasn’t changed.”

Once he was satisfied with his work, he shoved off the bed, chucking the shirt back onto the floor and grabbing his clothes, beginning to dress himself. 

“Plus,” he started as he buttoned his pants, glancing at you with that nonchalance you hated, “now you have something to remember me by.”

You scoffed, not bothering to get into it with him in favor of watching him pull his shirt back over his head, ridding his hair of the tie that bound it. You were waiting for the self-loathing to set in; waiting for the guilt of giving in to your desires, but you felt none of it. Instead, you felt a tad grateful, in some messed up way, that he had caught you in the act tonight because it caused the two of you to release an arsenal of pent up emotions you harbored for each other. 

Once he was dressed, he strode over to the bed and knelt down on the floor, choosing to smooth out your hair and trail his fingers down your spine. You hummed in approval, the slight massage lulling you closer and closer to sleep. His eyes shone with a new emotion; you couldn’t detect the same distaste that always was dancing within them when he looked at you. There was lust there, and a certain seriousness that you didn’t recognize, but you welcomed it. 

He surprised you for one last time as he bent down and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek, smoothing the skin with his thumb after he pulled away. You couldn’t help but smile up at him as he straightened to his full height.

“That certainly didn’t feel like you hate me, Samuel,” you called as you watched him make his way to your bedroom door, somewhat eager for him to leave so you could finally get to sleep. 

“Well,” he breathed, sending a smirk over his shoulder as he turned the handle, “imagine being loved by me.”

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[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Crosshair x Reader: More than a Dream

The Bad Batch is finally enjoying some more downtime and even some relaxation after the return of Omega and someone else unexpected.  You feel like you're caught in another dream.

Word Count: 1,209

Warnings: Some angst, comfort, Season 3: Episode 5 Spoilers

Can Be Read as Sequel to: In My Dreams

“Why are you crying?” A thin, raspy voice asked.  It only made the tears fall faster as you shielded your eyes from the waking dream beside you that sat up and gently leaned over you in comfort.

You’d been plagued by false hope too many times before.  You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes in the dark.

You curled up on the soft bedroll as you focused on the sounds of the room.

The ocean waves softly whooshing in the distance outside your open window.  Nocturnal insects were chirring to their heart’s content as they did every night.  A warm breeze tickled your skin and ruffled the curtains draped on either side of the window. 

If not for the continued presence that you felt beside you, you’d think you were beginning to wake from the bittersweet vision.  But he remained.

“I had another dream,” You answered finally.  “It’s…I wanted it to be real.”

There was a pause before the familiar voice continued.  “What was it about?”

“Omega came back safe and sound, and so did you.  You finally returned to us-” The sentence was cut off by a sorrowful sob.  You curled up, trying your very best to stifle it.  A hand curled over your shoulder, drawing you closer to the figure.

“Shh,” he hushed next to your ear.  “It was real.  I’m here.”

You relaxed against his clothed chest and allowed yourself the comfort.  As much as these dreams played your heartstrings like a seven-string hallikset, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. So, you clung to the fleeting moment and waited for it to fade into the night like they did every time.

Except it didn’t.  Precious seconds turned into minutes.  The minutes pushed on until you realized that he wasn’t going to fade.  Not this time. 

You dared yourself to look up.  Just one glimpse…

The first thing you saw was moonlight pouring into the room, covering everything in a lovely haze of silver.

And there he was, propping himself up beside you on one elbow while the other arm draped over your form.  His chin was lifted as his gaze was directed to the scene outside the window.  Your eyes followed the line of his jaw, pausing at his cheekbones, and wandered down the slope of his nose to his lips- admiring the shadows that the moon of Pabu cast on his face.

All at once, the memories came rushing back.

You remembered so vividly the moment Omega jumped into your arms after being lost to the Empire for several months.  You recalled the way your heart jumped for joy at her return and the fact that she was safe and sound.

You remembered the way you froze up completely at the sight of him.  Omega’s sheepish tone and Hunter’s suspicious gaze were lost to you as you stared Crosshair down from across the way.  No words came to you for some time.  It seemed to be the same with him.  The two of you spent the entire journey across space in that ship speechless toward each other, only communicating with odd stares.

You weren’t sure how you felt at first.  Of course, you were shocked by his return.  Confused.  And there was still anger toward him for betraying the squad, for betraying his family, for betraying you.

Somewhere along the line, it was just the anger that remained. The odd stares turned into cold ones on your end.  He didn’t return them.  He’d only met your gaze with a sort of prickly silence.

Then there was last evening when the tension finally snapped.  You’d ditched the silent treatment and instead opted for a shouting match; except, it was only you shouting, and him replying through clenched teeth.

Finally, when you’d spent your energy, you exhaled.

He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable.  He wasn’t asking for anything, period.  Crosshair had been a big part of helping Omega escape, and the kid had spent plenty of time trying to vouch for him to you and the rest of the squad.

The man before you had been severely humbled.  He’d changed, and it was written all over his face.  When you finally began to accept it, that’s when the tears came. There wasn’t just anger: there was hurt.  There was longing.

Crosshair pulled you into an embrace, and you cried into his shoulder.

You recalled your quiet, pathetic plea for him to stay.  You recalled the way he held you tighter, and how before you knew it, you both had curled up on your bedroll together, drifting off to sleep. 

And now, in the late hours of the night, you realized that it was indeed real.  It was truly Crosshair beside you, warm and safe.  His eyes were no longer gazing out at the moon, but instead locked on yours.  His mouth formed a frown as he saw the tears that had begun to well up in yours again.

“I thought it was another dream,” you cried.

 His hand reached up to stroke your cheek as he hushed you again gently.  “You don’t want to wake anyone.”

You gave a nod and buried your face into his shoulder.

“Hunter wouldn’t be so pleased to find me in your room,” he continued, petting your hair.

His comment nearly gave you a chill.  The thought of Hunter finding the two of you there, giving Crosshair that glare of utter distrust and fury and you the weighty gaze of disappointment was not something you wanted to experience.

“He still doesn’t trust me.”

“It’ll take time,” you murmured, voice muffled in his shirt.

“I know.  This wouldn’t exactly be a step in the right direction.  It’s bad enough that the kid can’t seem to stay away from me.”

“Omega sees something in you.”  You sighed sleepily, as a wave of exhaustion hit you.  “And so do I.”

Silence fell between the two of you, and the sounds of the night came to the forefront of your mind again as you began to drift back to sleep.  Crosshair’s breathing and his heartbeat were your lullaby.

Somewhere between the waking world, and your dreams, you thought you heard him utter,

“I don’t deserve it...”

- - - -

The next morning, you awoke to brilliant sunlight in your eyes.  In the heat of morning, you’d kicked your blanket off.  Reaching over to pull it back, you realized that the presence beside you was no longer there.

For just a split second, your heart plummeted.  The question of whether it was all just a dream arose once more, and you found yourself standing there on your feet and staring at the bedroll.

“No, it was definitely real,” you said aloud.  Relief flooded you as you fully woke up and went over last night’s conversation in your head.

As if timed to perfection, you heard the zoom of blaster fire.  It was a single shot, which was that of a sniper rifle.  You headed over to the window, trying to shield your eyes from the bright sunlight.  You squinted to see a familiar figure clad in gray and red down by the beach, taking aim at a target.

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched him fire again.

It was the start of a new day.

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

Ask game for Chase?

The pupper ever!! Also two other people asked for Chase while I was already working on it XD I'm sorry it's taking me literally days to get them all done, I'm having trouble to think properly on what to say for some stuff in these

My first impression - I'm not tanking this. His car is blue and white, he's a cop and HIS NAME IS CHASE. HMMMM WHERE HAVE I SEEN THIS BEFORE, OH I WONDER--

My impression now - He's precious. No, really. A+ for effort in everything he does but he should learn to relax a little more, just a liiiiiiiittle more

Favorite thing about that character - He's always willing to try new things out of his comfort zone and he always gives it his best, plus his loyalty levels are off the charts

Least favorite thing - He's too much of a people pleaser Istg-- Chase, sweetheart, you're supposed to be a figure of authority XD And this will sound like a dumb thing to dislike but I dislike the fact he's a German Shepherd. I think it's too obvious a breed for police dogs and he doesn't LOOK like one at all for me. When I first saw him without his gear, I was like "Wait is he a Belgian Malinois??? Omg please yes that would be cool to not have a German Shepherd as a Police Dog for ONCE" but yeah my dreams were crushed quickly on my first Google Search on him

Favorite line/scene - It's not specifically the line, but mostly the scene: Have you EVER seen Chase refuse a job or go against Ryder???

I know he ended up changing his mind after that talk with Ryder, but IN THIS MOMENT, he stood his ground and said NO. It's even in his body language: His ears are slightly back, his expression is serious like "don't even try arguing with me on this", his tail isn't relaxed, his paw stomping on the floor to make his point. Notice his frown even deepens as the elevator door closes just before it goes down. This is SO IMPORTANT to me you have no idea, especially considering how much of a people pleaser Chase is and how he holds Ryder as the most important person in his life. We know Chase would do anything for Ryder. But at this exact moment? He was decided to NOT do something for Ryder. This is such a powerful, yet overlooked and underrated scene, as well as character development. It encapsulates perfectly how there's so much more to Chase than any of us knew so far.

Favorite interaction that character has with another - Mighty Movie Skase moment #2 (I think? I counted at least 4 big moments) when Chase goes to check on Skye when she was sulking on the back of the Aircraft Carrier. Her problems there are totally out of his league, he literally cannot relate to anything she's currently going or went through in the past- still he tries to show support the only way he can at the moment, by being there for her, by listening to her. He's a keeper, Skye, go for it XD

A character that I wish that character would interact with more - Marshall and Zuma. They used to play a lot before, but now...? I'm still at the 8th season and I'm seriously missing those fun and slice of life moments

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character - Leonardo, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, specifically 2012 series

A headcanon about that character - I think Chase was one of those kind of puppies who just didn't know when to fucking STOP. 24/7 playful baby. Also a natural explorer, always sniffing everything, licking everything, maybe biting, touching, scratching, growling, barking at anything new for a while. Ever curious, always being the puppy to go ahead of the others, "exploring the waters to open the way and make sure it's safe for the others to come after him". On a second note, I've seen one too many people returning adopted puppies for this reason here where I live, because "they're a handful and I wasn't expecting this" 🤦🏽‍♀️

A song that reminds of that character - "Nothing Can Stop Me Now"

An unpopular opinion about that character - Idk why all the hate, even if you're ACAB, it's not like Chase even does a cop job at all XD Have you seen him arresting someone outside from movie verse? If anything, you'd WANT your cops to be like him LMAO

Favorite picture - Y'know how in the first movie Chase was in absolute awe when he saw his new car for the very first time? YEAH, like, he KNOWS Ryder designs and gets them crazy cool stuff, and it doesn't stop him from getting UTTERLY AMAZED every time. Tbh I had the same reaction as them all when I saw that sick af Mustang-looking police cruiser like HOLY SHIT YOU GET THE COOLEST TOYS-- AND YOU GET TO CATAPULT THEM DOWN THE HOT WHEELS RAMP AT TOP SPEED TOO??? Win for life.

[beastimusprojects]

Lets try this one more time.

Going back and rewriting some stuff because I'm not fond of the direction I was going. Specifically, we had a really weird distribution of character time, and just chapters that didn't really do anything. And I ended up with a situation where I didn't have a way to do the stuff I wanted to do without just doing a bunch of talking scenes in a row.

So here's the first 2 chapters, again. I'll try to get chapter 3 done today, but it's where the major rewrites need to start.

Chapter 1: A Beautiful night.

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               Phoenix finally relaxed.

               As she watched the moon slide over the sun, she relished the fact that she was now, truly, wonderfully alone. More alone than anyone has been in a long time I think.

               There are, of course, ways to be alone not requiring physical distance, and ways of being together that overcome any distance. But it had been a decade since Phoenix had been together in any of those ways, barring a few times, but those had turned out to be false.

               Physically though, I’m as alone as anyone could be, sitting here 30 miles from the nearest other person. By all rights, trying to get to me now would be like trying to contact the spirits of the dead. She clutched at her necklace, as she always did when she felt lonely. That’s good. Solitude is safety. It’s been a long time. She let out a long breath as she steeled herself up for the thought. A decade, exactly.

               I’m seventeen now, an adult. She looked around at the island. A second chance, I guess, to build something new. A new life. Safe. Out here.

               We can’t do that alone. Its barely more than a barren rock.

               Ok, that’s fine, we’ll have to go into town for a while, but that’s a small risk, we can mitigate those.

               That’s the name of the game, small risks, small contact, don’t get attached to anyone and return to safety quickly. It won’t happen again like last time. She put her head between her knees. I hate you Karol.

               As Phoenix looked up to seen that the moon had finished its arc, leaving only a ring of fire visible in the newly night sky, a feeling washed over her. Not happiness, and not really peace either, but determination. No, it won’t happen again. In mere hours her first scar would twinge, and many more in the coming weeks, reminding her of the worst moments in her life. This time, I won’t just survive.

               She looked for a place to sleep as she breathed in the crisp, cool air of what was ordained to be the first night of her new life.

            And what a beautiful night it would be.

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               It was of course, a beautiful night, but even from his perch on top of the headquarters of the Hunters, Orwen saw very little of it. He ignored the brilliant ring of light around the moon, its glimmering reflection in the lake, and he did not notice the glittering swath of stars, like diamonds above. Instead, he looked deeply into a small handheld mirror as he ran his finger across his scar.

               A letter lay at his feet, opened and read, a Condemnation, a sanction for public execution. As a Hunter, this was all he needed. If it had not come that evening, maybe he would have forgotten, no, not forgotten, but moved on. Duty is always to be the driving force of a Hunter. That was rule three, petty vengeance was beneath him, but now, the order was set, Phoenix Alkaryl was to be his next mark. And the hunt would be sweet. He would prove once more that he was the best of the Hunters, that he deserved the title of Nitehawk.

               You know, it’s kind of funny, the Hunter’s Mark is supposed to only fall on the best, but this one is the only evidence that I am not the best, my only failure. “You mean nothing” he told himself he was talking to the scar “until I find her.”

               He was not there in the morning.

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               “Dere, I can see you!” Hywel had been sent out to collect the demon again. Ever since he’d been moved to Seeker Headquarters, the thing had been frustrating the living daylights out of him. He shot an arrow up to the top of the wall. I’m sure that my magic is the only reason they brought me here. He was on top of the wall in a second, his arrow in his right hand.

          ��    His left hand was on Dere’s scruff, he always took the shape of a cat, trying to seem cute to distract people. It worked, but only marginally.

                    “Would you believe I was just out for a walk? It’s a very nice night!” Dere exclaimed. It curled up to try to seem cuter. It would be dropping the act as soon as it didn’t think it improved its chances.

               “No, I don’t believe the words of demons, especially not ones who I catch trying to escape.”

               “Oh, you’re always so serious, I was just out for a bit of fun.”

               Hywel took only a little bit of pleasure in stuffing Dere into the carrying cage as he said “oh, and I see that your idea of fun is tormenting people.”

               “There’s nothing else to do in this god-forsaken place.”

               “You see, you say things like that to try to get people to take pity on you, but then we have to remind ourselves that if you were free, your idea of fun would be to grow a thousand feet tall and bat villagers around until they pass out from the pain, when you would then eat them.”

               “”

               “Oh, nothing to say to that do you?”

               “I am not a demon of lies, I’m a demon of greed, it does me no good deny that you just described exactly my idea of fun.”

               After this moment of bluntness, Dere took to screaming profanities for the rest of the duration of the walk back to its cell.

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               Chapter 2: And a Wonderful Morning. ______________________________________________________________

               There’s nothing. Here. But. Blackberries! Phoenix was kind of mad about that fact, so mad in fact that she lit the nearest bush on fire with a clap of her hands.

               She took a few breaths, it’s fine, it’s fine, I wanted some meat, but I won’t starve. She walked back to her gondola and rustled around in her bags a little, coming up with some potatoes, onions, carrots, and a head of cabbage. You see, it won’t be that bad once we fry these up a little. She gathered some firewood, there were in fact, trees, so she could get enough wood to make a fire at least. I wish I’d had the sense to get an axe, if we have to build a house, we’re going to need one. Such concerns were, for the moment, however, pushed to the back of her mind as she started chopping vegetables.

               Cooking was one of the things Phoenix enjoyed the most. Fire had always fascinated her, mostly due to her powers. It engrossed her in a way that most things didn’t. Fire, used to make, and not unmake, it hearkens back to a simpler, more complex time, one of less violence, of more love, that is to say, the future, which if we do not make it, will be forever within our hearts. Her father had said that line many times, though she’d never understood, cooking was one of the first things he had taught her.

               Once the vegetables had been sliced, Phoenix roasted them over the fire in her pan.

               I’m going to have to go into town tomorrow, I need to buy more food if nothing else. But if I can get a few sheep and some chickens, I can probably stay here for a while and not have to go back. I really don’t want to go to town right now though.

               She watched the fire and put those thoughts away for now.

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               Orwen was known for being fast, but right now he was mostly just frustrated. He had tracked slippery prey before, but Phoenix Alkaryl was one of a kind. A night and a day and he could still only narrow her location to about a quarter of The Sky, a pitiful performance by The Nitehawk.

               Doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will find her.

            He was pouring over a map (the mirror laid just north of Levias) as he sat on the 11:45 ferry from Nerestar and Dorsinli, a convenient service which, 6 months ago, when Nerestar had been in Alliance territory, he couldn’t have used. He was glad the Free Cities were winning the war, if for no other reason than it made his job easier, the Alliance had made it clear they would not sanction Hunter activity in their territory. Now, Phoenix couldn’t be anywhere in Alliance territory, ever since he had killed his last mark, Scout the Seeker, the Alliance had closed their borders to all travel, Phoenix was supposed to be a good navigator, but no one got past Alliance gusters. So at least one thing was in his favor.

               If she’s this far off the map, she probably wanted to disappear. So, she went outward. If she made it all the way to the Outer Rim she could be on any number of islands.

               Oh, we’re here, I’d never thought they were that close.

               As he left the boat, he caught a glimpse down a dark alley of something he’d never seen before. A tall woman, wearing golden chainmail, one side of her face covered in burns, with three of her limbs replaced with prosthetics. Their eyes met, and she smiled with one half of her face. A Valkyrie, they were all supposed to be on the Levian front, the war was picking up steam there too over some drama about the missing prince. He tried to walk quickly away, but as he turned a corner, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

               “Excuse me, you are the Nitehawk, yes? You’re looking for a girl named Phoenix, right? The one who gave you The mark?”

“Indeed.”

“I know where to find her.”

No way, even if they did, why would they know? But if they did know, they wouldn’t tell me. No harm in asking about it though.

“Where?”

“Asera.” Makes as much sense as anywhere else, but no way it’s that easy.

“Why do you know that?”

“We have an interest in her, we’ve been tracking her for a while.”

“And why tell me?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” She raised her eyebrow.

“There is no trust, only favorable circumstance.” Rule 7

The Valkyrie frowned “We can’t catch her without your speed.”

Transparency or an attempt to play to my ego? Well, it wouldn't work anyway.

“Thank you for the information.” He turned to go but felt her hand on his shoulder.

“You misunderstand, I am to accompany you.” That’s not good.

“All right, we leave at once then.”

She shook her head “I have a few matters to attend to beforehand. Meet me by the northern gate.”

Probably don’t want to piss off a Valkyrie, I’ll play along for now, but if anything seems off, I’ll ditch her. “Ok.”

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            Guarding Dere was hell, and Hywel had been booked for a full week of it, some sort of hazing ritual he guessed. In every way, the thing was pure evil, you could almost feel badness radiating off it. Even just sitting close to it made you numb, like all the feeling was being sucked out of you. If you met its eyes, they weren’t really eyes at all, just pools of infinite empty blackness, more than just nothing themselves, also threatening to make you into nothing. And its smile was dreadful, you knew it was happy with itself, and when you saw it smiling, you couldn’t even hate it, the hate would drain away before you could replenish it. All you could feel was nothing. A vile creature.

               And then there was its voice. It didn’t make any sound; you heard it in your head. It didn’t say anything of any consequence, but it seemed to know everything about you. Or sometimes it would say the most utterly outrageous things, but that was the trouble, after a while of hearing, you sometimes wouldn’t know the difference.

            It was evil. In its most concentrated and loathsome form. Precisely what the Seekers were out to eradicate. Or so they say. Seems like they mostly are just fighting the war. Capturing and killing things like Dere was what Hywel had signed up for. Though the job mostly consisted of long guarding of the one that had already been captured. He longed to be out with one of the capture teams, or even out fighting in the war, something where he was doing something for someone, where he felt like he was helping.

Sometimes I hate this job.

               We aren’t that different you know. We’re both just stuck here, powerless to really go anywhere. It’s the worst feeling. I know you wish you had the power to go out and help people. You could. All you’d have to do is say the word.

               I’m gonna stop you right there, Dere. You aren’t wrong, we are both kinda trapped here, but we’re here for opposite reasons. You had to be dragged here, because if you were out, you’d go on a murder rampage. I’m here by choice because I want to stop things like you. You are fundamentally evil, and I will never make a deal with you, because I’m not that kind of person.

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@brokendarkfairyempressforever

@hijabi-flavored-nerd

Bear with me.

[mirisss]

Ampers&One as Idol boyfriends

Ampers&One and how they would act as a boyfriend while also being an idol!

Thank you for this lovely request 🦋! I love writing for the ampies! I hope you enjoy what I have written. I feel like some of these turned out great and others not so good. 

Warnings: None I think, except for the fact that I keep switching between POVs because I wrote these on different days and forgot which POV I started with, so sorry for that. 

Wordcount ≈ 1.8k

Na Kamden

Kamden knows that he has a large fanbase, one that can be quite crazy for him. Sometimes he worries that the fan service he does on stage would put his partner off, or make them question their relationship. Kamden might love his fans but he loves no one more than you. So, one day, he came up with a gesture that he could do on stage, one that would seem like fan service but is actually for you. 

“Hey love,” “Good morning, Kamden,” “I have to leave in a few minutes, I already overslept, but I just had to stay in bed with you,” “Hey, you should hurry, you know the company only agreed to me staying at the dorm sometimes if you were always on time,” Kamden hurriedly left the bed and got dressed, he rushed around the room, once he was finally ready, he was about to leave the room but he stopped by the door, turned around and blew you a kiss. “That is always for you,” You didn’t understand it at the moment but later that day when watching their performance for a music show, you saw him blowing a kiss to the fans, or well, one specific fan. You. 

When Kamden and the boys returned to the dorm, Kamden immediately went to his room, finding you in his bed, in one of his hoodies, asleep. He bent down, leaving a light kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” Even in your sleep, your body recognized the words and Kamden could see a sleepy smile light up your face. His heart warmed, you truly were the love of his life. 

He Brian

Brian is a puppy through and through. His whole face will light up anytime he sees his partner at the company building or at a concert, or anywhere really. He is most likely to fuck up and accidentally say “My girlfriend/boyfriend/partner is so cute” or “Yeah (Y/n) just made this incredible food for me because they love me” during a live or during an interview. Either way, he will probably out your relationship within a week or two. But he looks cute while doing it so it’s fine, well, kind of. Most fans will think Brian and his partner look really cute together and support them, the company isn’t as happy with the public relationship but they’ll accept it eventually. 

The fans will take any chance they get to talk with Brian’s partner if they see them at a concert or out in public. Gushing about how cute Brian and they are together. During behind-the-scenes shoots, there will always be a couple of seconds where you can see Brian running up to his partner and hugging them, or kissing them, or just bopping their nose. These moments often go viral with the captions “Best boyfriend ever” “Don’t know who I am most jealous of, Brian or (Y/n)” or something like it.  

Choi Jiho 

Jiho, just like most of the others, is a golden retriever boyfriend. Some of his most cherished moments are when he comes home after a long day of being a leader, and he can crawl into the arms of his partner, lying on the couch, a movie playing in the background, he can just relax, breathe in the safe and familiar scent of his beloved. He doesn’t have to be in charge of other people, he can just enjoy the moment. Jiho loves it when his partner comes with lunch to the company when he has long days of practice and recording. Just five minutes with his partner gives him more energy to continue no matter how tired he is.  

He will practice his fan-service on his partner, so when his partner comes by to watch him practice he will dance in front of them and send winks, kisses, smirks, or whatever their way and then ask if it looked good, was a good place in the song for it, and other feedbacks that his partner had for him. Whenever he does these things on stage, he will think of his partner and his partner will feel butterflies in their stomach even when just watching a fancam. 

Yoon Siyun 

Siyun is sort of black-catish when it comes to pda, for him, he really separates his work life and his personal life, or well as much as he can. Of course, he enjoys his partner coming to visit him during dance practices or whatnot, but he would never do anything that could risk exposing the relationship. When he is on stage he is not Yoon Siyun, boyfriend of (Y/n), no then he is Yoon Siyun of Ampers&one. After work though, he is a golden retriever. When he comes home after a long day of working or practicing he will run to his partner and snuggle up with them on the couch or in bed, talking about everything they had done that day or just enjoy the presence of each other. 

The one time, Siyun will act out of character when working is when they have a concert, he steps out on the stage, looking out at the crowd, happy to see so many fans, but then his eyes find a very familiar face in the front row. His partner standing there, cheering louder than anyone else. During the concert he will send kisses and hearts in the direction of his partner, he can’t help it, he’s so happy to see them there. No one else notices just how much attention he is giving to one particular section of the crowd, so for once, it is safe for him to give a little extra love to his partner even though it is in public. 

Choi Kyrell 

Kyrell would be the most golden retriever boyfriend to ever exist. This boy is so in love with you that he dies a little bit inside every minute that he is apart from you. He has tried to convince the company that you’re like his emotional support animal but instead of an animal, you’re his emotional support partner. 

Kyrell will be glued to your side, whenever he can he will be holding your hand, kissing your cheeks, your lips, your neck, he will hug you from behind or give you normal hugs, he will touch you any way he can. 

He especially loves the days when you can visit him at the company, you bring him lunch and then stay and watch their practice for the rest of the day. Kyrell runs to the door when he sees you open it, he envelops you in a tight hug, almost lifting you off the floor, the largest smile known to man plastered on his lips. 

You sit in the corner of the practice room and whenever he has a second to spare he waves to you or runs over to give you a quick kiss, he pouts whenever you leave the room to go get more water or a bathroom break because he misses you. 

Mercer Mackiah

Mackiah is sort of a golden retriever but like times 11 in energy. He will use up all your energy in a second. Getting this man to chill for 5 minutes is a struggle. If he has a free night and the two of you decide to watch a movie while cuddling on the couch, it is fine for like 2 minutes, after that, chaos breaks out. Mackiah will slowly move his arms down to your sides and begin tickling you, if that doesn’t work to break your attention from the movie, he will blow air into your ear, lightly pull your hair, anything to get you to look at him. 

As an idol boyfriend, he finds it hard not to be able to do everything a normal couple would, however, he does his absolute best to make up for it with your alone time and home dates. On stage he will try to wink and give hearts and kisses, some are for the fans but most are for you. In the practice room, he loves asking you to come keep him company when he has solo practices. Most of the time, he just dances a little with you, or you two sit on the floor, cuddling in a back hug position, just talking about life as he watches the two of you through the mirrors. He will hum the new songs for you, and sometimes when he feels playful, which is often, he will make freestyle raps dedicated to you. 

He might not be able to show you off to the world like he would want to, but that doesn’t mean that he loves you any less. 

Kim Seungmo

Seungmo is somewhat of a wild card, he’s definitely golden-retreiver coded yet he’s also like a black cat at times. He’d never be cold to his partner, but sometimes he would rather just be in the same room as his partner but without physical contact or conversations. Other times though, he would be all over his partner. 

Seungmo is a hard worker, he’d do anything he can to show his partner that he loves them. Whether it be learning a new language, learning how to cook their favorite meal, teaching them a dance or anything really, he would do it. Days when his partner watches their dance practices, Seungmo will find his partner's eyes in the mirror and wink at them throughout practice, or rather he would do it right before practice begins, after that his focus is fully on Kamden or the choreographer. Once practice is over, he will walk over to his partner and collapse in their arms, happy to see how proud his partner is as they look at him. 

The few times he has a day off, he spends it trying to cook for his partner. Key word, trying. He might not be the best cook but he’s not the worst either. “Okay, sit down, here, and close your eyes, don’t open them until I say you can,” Seungmo directed his partner to the dinner table, he seemed as excited as a puppy with a new toy. He ran over to the kitchen, got the two plates he had prepared, and returned to the table where his partner was sitting with their eyes closed, as promised. He put the plates down, hoping that his partner would enjoy the meal. “Okay, you can open your eyes,” His partner smiled as wide as possible, not because of the food in front of them but because Seungmo’s smile was just contagious.