#please no one feel obligated to read all of this I REALLY got carried away

[wwinterwitch]

rational, irrational — coriolanus snow

summary: the newest peacekeeper in your district can't seem to stay away from you, but you're just having casual fun together...right? pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district!fem reader word count: 6.5k  tags: smut and fluff, there's plot here, corio being corio, he's all over you the man's desperate, briefly suggestive in public (no one sees tho), specifics about reader (plays guitar, has a mom and dad, wears a dress, is carried by corio and is shorter), i wrote it thinking reader is 20 and he's 21 btw, dry humping, everything's rough and passionate, clothed f/naked m, marking and biting, unprotected p in v, pet names (princess, baby, my beautiful girl), he moans a lot (and whimpers!), reader is an overthinking queen, love confession (mutual)

happy new year my loves, i wish you the happiest 2024!! i'm so so proud of this fic, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it.

reblog or comment if you enjoy please!

all masterlists | thg masterlist | read on ao3

Coriolanus Snow is a very patient guy. So patient, that he sits quietly by one of the corners of that filthy-looking place while you have a good time. He's not really fond of spending time with the people in District Twelve– why would he? Everything about this place makes him nauseous, and he's pretty sure he would've found a way to get back to the Capitol already if it wasn't for you.

You, with your stupid smile and your stupid eyes and your stupid charm that managed to captivate him enough to actually make him want to be here. He may not be a fan of the people from your District, and he might not even be that interested in music at all, but he’s definitely a fan of seeing you enjoy yourself. He’s willing to sit throughout the entire performance because he knows you’re really passionate about your music, and how much you like it when he’s in the crowd to watch you.

The only thing that makes the experience tolerable is getting to see you play your guitar and twirl around in your pretty dress to the sound of the music. Hell, he even thought he was ascending to heaven every time you'd turn to look in his direction, noticing the way your smile would widen when you eventually lock eyes with him.

As soon as you got off the tiny stage, he made his way towards you with the clear intention of getting out of there to finally be alone with you. Before he can even say anything, you notice him approaching and immediately hand your guitar to one of your friends before you practically trot towards him.

There’s a big smile on your face when you’re standing in front of him, immediately pulling him in for a hug as a way of saying hi. He was busy before the show, unfortunately, so you didn’t have the chance to talk to him until now.

“You were incredible up there,” he congratulates you, leaving a quick kiss on the top of your head, his arms keeping you close to him.

Blushing lightly, you rest your head on his chest, allowing the hug to last longer than you initially anticipated before finally taking a step back from him. “Thank you.”

“Sorry I showed up a little late today.” He looks genuinely apologetic, even when you’ve told him countless times he shouldn’t feel pressured to be here every time you’re going to perform. “I wanted to bring you flowers, too, but I didn’t have time.”

You immediately shake your head when you hear him start apologizing. “It’s okay, Coriolanus. You don’t have to explain yourself, really,” you insist like always, because it really isn’t necessary. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend, and even if he were, you wouldn’t want him to feel obligated to do anything for you.

He smiles down at you, silently appreciating the fact that you understand his early absence. Leaning closer again, he puts a hand on the small of your back. “Should we go now?” 

The question makes you giggle. He's been like this since the first time the two of you started seeing each other. He's always wanting to spend time with you alone, away from your friends and other people he, again, doesn't care about at all. He's not here in Twelve to make friends, after all.

But even when you’ve always enjoyed his eagerness to get some alone time with you, you promised your friends to hangout with them after the show. "Let me have one drink with my friends and we'll be on our way,” you quickly reply. The look on his face was more than enough to let you know he was not happy about that plan, which makes you take a step closer to him to place a quick kiss on his cheek. "One drink. I promise."

You start walking away before he has time to come up with something to argue back, so he has no other choice but to wait even longer. He kept a serious expression on his face, barely making any attempts to join in on the conversation your friend group was having, even when everyone tried their best to include him in it. He clearly hated the idea of still having to share you with other people.

As much as your friends have expressed their concerns about his behavior, you can't help but enjoy the fact that he seems to be so incredibly obsessed with you. Yes, it's maybe a little too much sometimes, but you actually like it.

You like that he's always touching your body in any possible way, whether it's holding your hand, rounding your waist, or putting a hand at the small of your back. You also like that he's always keeping a watchful eye on you. It's like you're his most prized possession; he just can't risk losing you, so he's always following you around, making sure everyone treats you right and with respect. Whoever dares to mess with what's his would regret it for the rest of their life.

From the moment he laid eyes on you, he just had this need to have you. To know you, to keep you close, to gain your attention. Already used to getting what he wants, he knew it was a matter of time before he managed to do just that. It didn't take long before you were accepting to spend more and more time with him, and from that moment forward he's been glued to your side. 

It's still a mystery to you what he, a guy surrounded by privileges and luxuries from the Capitol, is even seeing in you, a nobody from the most disgraceful District. Still, you were surprised by how incredibly attentive he is with you.

Even when he knows he could get in serious trouble, he always manages to sneak away from his duties as a Peacekeeper to spend time with you. He has never ever missed one of your shows. Tigris is always asking about ‘the mystery girl he has a crush on, that she just can’t wait to meet one day’ whenever the two of them manage to talk.

Even your family has questioned you about what the hell you're up to every time you come back home holding a bouquet of azaleas. He used to give you roses, until he learned you actually prefer azaleas– not any azaleas, no, because you like the purple ones over any other of the colors so he's always getting you purple azaleas.

However, no matter how good he treats you or how seemingly obsessed he is, you always remind yourself not to think too much of it, knowing better than to get your hopes up regarding someone like Coriolanus Snow.

Because you have to be realistic here. You’ll always be in District Twelve, but he’ll eventually go back to the Capitol. Neither of you have really wanted to talk about what would happen then, choosing to enjoy the time you get to have together instead, but that doesn’t mean you don’t think about it more and more everyday.

He could promise you many things. That he’ll keep in touch with you, that he’ll find a way to visit, that he’ll never let the distance be an issue. But that’s just stupid. With such a lavish life, surrounded by privileges and important people, it’s only a matter of time before he forgets you even existed.

But it’s okay if he forgets. You’ve come to terms with that ending by now, because it’s part of what you knew you’d have to live with if you decided to get involved with him.

So, even when it’s difficult, you try to remind yourself not to look forward to a future with him because people like you and people like him simply cannot have a future together. The only thing you do allow yourself to think about is that, at least for the time being, he seems to be interested in you and he's ridiculously attractive, so why not having fun while you can?

So Coriolanus waited and waited, until you were putting away your guitar and finishing your third drink –definitely not one, he noticed– to head out the little pub with him. In a matter of seconds, his hand is resting once again on your lower back as he guides you outside, making sure to move people out of the way for you.

He offered to carry your guitar case before grabbing your hand and starting to head towards the forest. Like many times before, the two of you had to sneak around in dark alleys and deserted streets to avoid being seen. No one should be going into the forest at night, especially if we’re talking about a young girl with a Peacekeeper all by themselves. 

"Stop it!" you warn him in a playful whisper when he's grabbing your hips yet again, cornering you against a brick wall in a poorly-lit street. Still, you show barely any resistance or actual annoyance as you wrap an arm around his neck. "We'll get caught."

"So?" he asks with a mischievous grin, leaning closer to you. "If that happens, I'll just make something up." Shrugging, he brushes your worries off as he presses his body to yours, pushing you against the wall. "You really made me wait back there, you know?" he adds in a lower voice, his face impossibly closer, your nose brushing with his. "How do you expect me to behave now when I've been waiting all night to be alone with you?"

That last comment makes you look up at him in a way that encourages him to squeeze your body against the wall even more, making you gasp a little.

Your body is always testing him. He's almost convinced that you know the power you hold over him and completely take it to your advantage. This is definitely one of those times, because you've decided to wear that dress he loves so much on you and you just keep looking up at him with that doe-eyed look that's making it really difficult to keep himself under control.

He settles for a kiss for now, pressing his lips to yours in a way that perfectly shows how much he's needing you. He holds your face with one hand, his tongue immediately moving past your lips and inside your mouth to deepen the kiss. Your legs almost tremble when he captures your lower lip between his teeth before pulling back entirely, a small smirk adorning his lips when he locks eyes with you again because he knows he's not the only one that's forgetting you're in the middle of a street.

Yes, he's down bad, but he's also aware of the effect he has on you and he loves watching it reflected on your face.

He lets out a low chuckle when you eventually push him away from you, deciding to continue the walk to the forest, grabbing your hand again to guide you through the narrow streets and making sure to keep an eye out to avoid getting caught.

"What did you tell your parents this time?" he asks, the playful tone in his voice evident. You didn't need to see his face to know he was grinning.

"Sleepover," you simply say, blushing.

"Again?"

The little chuckle that escapes his lips makes you blush even more, lightly hitting his arm with your available hand. "Would you prefer I tell them I'm sneaking into the forest with you?"

There's a brief silence, and for a second you thought that was it regarding that conversation, until you hear him speak again. "Do you think they'd like me?"

You're not entirely sure where that question is coming from. At first you thought it was just another little comment to tease you, but when you look up at him you notice the expression on his face. He genuinely seems serious about it, and he briefly looks down at you before looking ahead, seemingly intrigued by your answer.

Would your parents like him? Perhaps your mom will be thrilled that you found someone because you've rarely ever talked to her about anyone potentially capturing your interest in a romantic way. Even if you reveal that he’s a guy from the Capitol. You can already picture her bombarding Corio with compliments, and the thought of them meeting actually makes you visibly smile.

But your dad might be a completely different story. He's always talking about how much he hates the Capitol, after all. And the fact that he almost got in trouble with the Peacekeepers recently might be another strong indicator that perhaps he'll have his reservations about someone like him dating you.

But he's not being serious about this, you tell yourself. This is his way of teasing you, of course.

Still, the look on his face stops you from being entirely playful about your answer, because despite your brain trying to remind you to be realistic about the nature of your relationship, part of you fears he really wants to know what you have to say.

"I don't know," you eventually reply, voice a lot lower than you expected. "Perhaps your charm can persuade them too."

You notice him smile after your last comment, but you don't know if that answer was enough for him. Maybe it wasn't. "I'm sure I can find a way to win them over," he replies as confident as ever. Again, you're not sure if he's just joking or not. Thankfully, he doesn't say anything else about it and you decide to stay quiet too.

Already in the forest, it was practically impossible to get his hands away from your body. You had to walk with his arms around you, his lips occasionally pressing against your temple, neck or the side of your face. If you managed to slip from his grip even for the shortest of instances, he'd grab your arm and pull you back into his embrace.

It's only fair that he gets to hold you close to him as much as he wants. He has been patient enough for you, after all. He stayed in that bar to watch you have fun with your friends while you barely paid any attention to him. Do you really expect him to keep waiting until you reach that stupid cabin? Not a chance. Not when he's been waiting to be alone with you for hours.

The two of you finally reach the cabin and he only moves away from your body to open the door for you, his eyes hungrily trailing down your body as you walk inside. That goddamn dress looks just so good on you, his hands are practically shaking in anticipation as he closes the door behind him.

You turn around to look at him with a soft smile, watching as he carefully places your guitar case on the floor, leaving it resting against a wall before walking towards you. He's immediately grabbing your face with his hands, pulling you in for a kiss so incredibly desperate that it almost makes your legs tremble.

He's always been like this– passionate, devoted, needy. He kisses you like your mouth is the air he needs in order to stay alive. He takes a few steps backwards until he's once again cornering you against the wall, and the way he presses his body against yours with urgency isn't doing much to help your poor state.

"Corio..." you whisper, surrounded by the darkness of the cabin, seeing his features illuminated by the moonlight coming from one of the windows. He takes his time to look at you– really look at you, marveling at how your eyes are reflecting all the raw emotions he's feeling right now in this very moment with you. The way your body silently expresses your need for him to continue, how your chest rises and falters faster than usual.

But he also focuses on other things. Things you probably don't even know he'll be thinking about when he looks at you like this. Because he also takes a second to admire how unbelievably beautiful you are and the way your body fits so perfectly against his. He even has the time to realize how fast his own heart is beating, that foreign feeling that keeps appearing within him every time he's near you completely overtaking him.

You gasp softly when one of his hands lifts your dress, enough to reach your thigh as he squeezes your flesh with a low groan. "You made me wait all night," he mutters, sounding genuinely upset at this still– offended, even. "I went to see your little concert to be with you, and that's how you pay me? Just ignoring me?"

"I didn't–"

"You did," he insists, and despite the anger and frustration in his voice, you know he's not really directing any of those emotions at you. Or at least not entirely. He's just really desperate to be with you, to feel more of what you have to offer. 

There's a brief pause where Coriolanus is taking his chance to move his hand from your thigh to your ass, urging your hips forward to meet his half-way. You let out a soft moan, he smirks devilishly. "I don't think that was very nice of you."

Shortly after that last comment, he's leaning down to press his lips on your neck. Every kiss is sloppy, hurried, desperate, his hand on your ass urgently pushing you forward while he presses his growing bulge against your lower stomach.

The low moans escaping his lips makes you shiver, gripping his biceps while you tilt your head back against the wall to expose more of your neck to him.

His teeth dig into your flesh, making you moan louder. "I'm sorry..." you mutter in a breathless voice, feeling his frustration in the way he's handling your body. "I'm sorry..."

He completely ignores your apologies, much more preoccupied on kissing down your neck towards your collarbone. Your back arches when his lips trail lower, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your cleavage.

The hand on your ass moves to the back of one of your thighs, lifting your leg up until your knee is practically leveling with his hips, aligning your bodies better. The gesture exposes you just enough, creating the perfect angle for him to grind against you properly.

He moves back to watch your reaction as he rocks his hips forward, his clothed erection pressing against the fabric of your underwear in a delicious friction. Your broken moan echoes in the empty cabin, combined with the groan of pure ecstasy that escapes his lips.

"All night," he repeats through gritted teeth. "All fucking night you had me waiting."

You didn't reply. If you tried to say you didn't, he'd argue back. If you tried to apologize, he wouldn't listen. Unlike what many would think, you've genuinely got to know him during his stay in your district. You know it's better to just shut up and let him win, at least sometimes– especially times like this when he's making you feel so good and you don’t really have the strength or mind to insist.

He's probably the most stubborn person you'll ever meet. There's no way of ever making him change his mind about anything. But you like him just like that.

He's kissing your lips again, just as desperate as before, hungrily claiming your mouth. Without moving back from the kiss, he grabs your other leg to fully lift you off the ground. You immediately wrap your legs around his waist, keeping your hands on his shoulders for support while he walks towards the couch that's in front of the empty fireplace with you in his arms.

He gently places your body on top of the couch, making sure you're comfortable as he moves back from you. A soft smirk appears on his lips when his eyes meet yours. With desperate hands and rushed movements, he starts removing the jacket of his Peacekeeper uniform, and you watch in silent appreciation as he removes his clothing on top of you.

First it was the jacket, then it was the plain white t-shirt he was wearing underneath, barely giving you time to admire his torso before he's leaning down to kiss you, continuing the heavy and passionate make out.

You run your hands up and down his back, careful not to be too rough with the way your fingers trace his skin. Even when the injuries on his back have healed completely, you were still fearful of hurting him.

Unlike you, Coriolanus is anything but gentle. One of his hands keeps a strong grip on your hip, pinning you down to the worn-out couch. The other moves up your frame, groping your breasts to his will. Still, despite the roughness of it all, there's an undeniable sense of care in the way he treats you. He holds onto you so tight because he physically can't bring himself to hold you in any other way, and because he knows you like that extra pressure his strong hands provide whenever he touches your body.

He'll never ever keep a strong grip on you like this with the intention of hurting you. It's not meant to hurt, but to show you through his touch how badly he needs to feel your body. How he can't function properly if he's not keeping you close. How he wants to make sure you're actually there with him, making him feel like this, and that you won't disappear into thin air to leave him completely alone. He can't let you disappear. He won't be able to live if you go.

The familiar sound of his belt echoes in the room, and you don't need to pull away from the kiss and look down to know he's urgently trying to get rid of the barrier of clothing separating your bodies.

"Take your panties off," he ordered in a rushed voice, moving back just enough to look at you. The huge amount of urgency hidden behind his captivating blue eyes makes you blush despite yourself, marveling at how he’s able to give you an instruction but still look like he’s pleading for it. "You can keep the dress on, though," he adds not too long after, taking another look down your body appreciatively. "It looks so pretty on you."

You immediately do as told. He gives you just enough space to reach under your dress to slide your panties down your legs while he finishes undoing his belt, starting to unzip his pants now.

It's actually a lot harder to remove your underwear than you initially anticipated, struggling to fully get rid of them at first due to your boots. He quickly notices it, helping to take them off before finally getting rid of your panties.

Waiting not-so-patiently (a thing you might have in common with him, apparently), you watch as Coriolanus focuses back on unzipping his pants, hurriedly sliding them down his legs along with his boxers. You barely catch a glimpse of his rigid cock before he's lifting one of your legs up again, pressing his body against yours and giving you absolutely no time to react as he's filling you up in one swift, hard thrust of his hips.

A shuddering moan of pure relief escapes his lips when he's finally able to feel your heat surrounding him. He holds onto your body for dear life, burying his face in your neck, needing to feel you close to him while he stays balls-deep inside you for a second. Savoring it, cherishing it, thanking whatever it was that put you in his life, trying to remember exactly how it feels to be like this with you just in case you ever decide to keep him waiting again. 

Not at all ready for such intrusion, you let out a pathetic little whimper that makes the moment that much enjoyable for him. You hold tightly onto his body as well, your palms pressed to his shoulder blades, brows furrowed in both pleasure and slight discomfort.

"Fucking–" he grunts, breathlessly, feeling like the happiest man on earth right now, "missed this."

He starts to move, slowly sliding his cock out of you before slamming back inside with such force that it makes you whimper out loud once again. Every beautiful sound coming out of your mouth drives him even more insane, encouraging him to do whatever he possibly can to keep them coming.

An almost animalistic groan escapes his lips when he feels you biting onto his shoulder. Your teeth sinking into his skin like that makes him lose the little self-control he had left, the movements of his hips only increasing as they become quicker, rougher. It's practically impossible to think any coherent thoughts or try to speak, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock fucking you relentlessly, aggressively, desperately.

Coriolanus fucks you like his life depends on it. Like he's been deprived of your body for years. Like it's the last time he'll ever get the chance to do it so he's forced to make the most of it. He leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck, drawing a particularly lovely moan when you feel him suck on your skin in a way that'll definitely leave a mark later. You really don't care, he can mark you all he wants.

His hips move rapidly, refusing to give you even the tiniest of seconds to relax. The impact of his skin slapping against yours mixed with the absolutely obscene sounds coming from his cock sliding in and out of your aching little hole are as loud as the sounds coming from your mouths. You whimper desperately, he groans completely consumed by the feeling of sharing this moment with you.

"That's it, princess," he praises you in a low voice. You're being so good for him, gladly taking every inch of him, squeezing him in a way that's making his eyes roll to the back of his head as he forces his hips to move as fast as possible. "You feel incredible...so tight...just perfect for me."

When he moves back from your neck, he could've swore he almost came right there and then just by looking at your face. You look back at him through half-lidded eyes, swollen lips parted while you keep moaning and whimpering for him, skin glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed. The fact that you look so beautifully wrecked thanks to him has got to be one of his biggest accomplishments. He'll probably never get enough of this sight, of you, of your body, of your wet pussy taking him so incredibly good that he's not sure he can keep this up much longer.

And he knows you can't handle much of this either. You don't need to say it out loud for him to know– which is good, because it's not like you can utter a single word right now. He can see it in the way you're struggling to keep your eyes open, hear it in the way your cries come out more and more broken, feel it in the way your walls repeatedly squeeze him tighter and tighter.

His tongue invades your mouth if a passionate kiss, all messy and hot, teeth clashing while you moan into each other's mouths. He kisses you hungrily for a few seconds before pressing his forehead to yours, knowing it's a matter of time before he gets to feel you come around his cock.

"Corio..." you call out his name, barely able to speak. He moves back just enough to look at you.

"I know, baby. I know," he replies in a soft voice, completely contrasting with his rapid thrusts and ragged breathing.

He closes his eyes for a second, so lost in the moment, feeling his entire body on fire and his heart beating like crazy. He sneaks an arm underneath you, lifting your hips just enough and keeping them there, both of you voicing how good that new angle feels with a particularly louder moan.

When he opens his eyes again, noticing the way you're looking up at him, he realizes it. How good this feels because he's sharing it with you. How he'll never be able to share moments like this with anyone that's not you, and even if he dares to try it'll always be second-best now that he got to experience you.And it's not just the sex, but everything. From the pride of making you blush with the tiniest of compliments, to the honor of holding your hand. From the warm and fuzzy feeling inside him every time you kiss him, to the way you seem so interested to hear his stories about his life back in the Capitol. From the absolute gift that is seeing you laugh at one of his jokes (even the bad ones), to the minutes he spends collecting purple azaleas in the forest. He wants none of that if it’s not with you.

Before he can even fully comprehend just how risky it is, he's voicing that one thought that keeps repeating over and over in his head. A thought that's probably been on his mind long before he even allowed himself to acknowledge it. "I love you," he whispers, the confession both heavy and relieving. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

In other circumstances, you would probably be absolutely shocked by that revelation. You'd stand in front of him without knowing what to say, trying to figure out if those words actually came out of his mouth or if you're just going insane. Or maybe you'd act like you did earlier when he asked about your parents, trying to trick your insecure mind and distrustful heart to believe he's not being serious– that what you have isn't serious at all.

But it's different when you're underneath him and he's claiming your body in the most excruciatingly good way, because you're deprived of all your rationality. You can't think, you can't be scared or doubt everything like you tend to do. You're stripped of almost everything, except from your most basic and natural instincts.

So, in a moment like this, it's so easy to admit the inevitable truth you seem to be running away from when you’re actually able to overthink. "I love you," you repeat, and it's so simple. So right.

He’s over the moon when he hears you say that, already wanting to hear it again and again and again because it sounds absolutely heavenly when those three little words come out of your mouth. He didn't know how much he needed to hear them until now.

You manage to distract him, however, when your moans come out more desperately than ever before, feeling the way you clench around him like crazy. "Corio..." you manage to cry out again, the vulnerability and exhaustion in your voice sending shivers down his spine.

It's a mystery to him if you wanted to say something else aside from his name, because as soon as it leaves your mouth you’re moaning louder than ever before, your entire body convulsing with the intensity of the orgasm that overtakes your whole being. Arms and legs wrapped around him, forehead resting on his shoulder, a few tears escaping your eyes due to how much you’re feeling right now.

With him, it always feels amazing, but oh does it feel even better now that you know he loves you.

Your orgasm was all he needed to be driven over the edge, his arm underneath you tightening its grip on you while the other barely provides support to his body so he doesn't crush you under his weight. "Yes, yes…" he moans, his face against your neck, the only things in his mind being the feeling of your orgasm and how badly he wants to fill you up now. "Oh, fuck, baby..." he practically whimpers those words out, completely overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

He finally comes undone, shooting his load deep inside you as a few more whimpers escape his mouth, his peak hitting him harder than ever before. It's almost like the more instances he gets to be like this, giving you exactly what you deserve, making love to you, the better it feels. Makes him come back for more every time, crave you in a way he's never experienced before. 

His movements in and out of you slow down considerably, but he refuses to stop just yet. His hips continue to meet yours even after he's fully empty, all of his cum already coating your inner walls, but making sure to fuck every drop into you before he allows himself to fully slide out.

Panting heavily, he moves his head back enough to look at you, admiring your face of pure bliss after he tried his very best to give you everything he had in him to make you feel good. One arm stays wrapped around your body, using his available hand to brush your sweaty hair away from your face. "My beautiful girl," he compliments you in a breathless whisper, looking deeply into your eyes with immense adoration and possessiveness.

He just needed to have you like this. Alone, all to himself, making those cute little sounds that drive him insane, filled with his cum. Yes, he's a very patient person, but he can't control himself when it comes to you. Surely you understand, after what you’ve experienced together tonight and the confession that slipped from his lips, why he needed to get the hell out of that crowded pub. He's completely in love with you, how is he supposed to act like he doesn’t?

You're even more exhausted than him, barely able to keep your eyes open as you give him a soft smile when you hear the way he's complimenting you. He gently holds your face with one of his hands and you lean into his touch almost immediately. Leaning closer, he kisses you once again, a lot more controlled now but still as passionate as ever. Silently appreciating the way you handled the roughness of his movements, thankful that you shared such an intimate and intense moment with him, insanely happy to know you love him as much as he loves you.

He moves away from your lips, only to start kissing all over your face, muttering praises and compliments in between each of them, making you giggle as you gladly accept his affection.

Eventually, he pulls out of you and moves away from your body entirely, giving you enough space to sit up on the couch and look for your discarded panties. As you do that, he starts the process of dressing himself too, putting his boxers and pants back on.

You watch him in silence, playing with your fingers on your lap as you wait for him to join you on the couch again. Your insecurities were getting the best of you once again, and he immediately notices it the second he’s taking a seat next to you.

He looks visibly worried, leaning closer as he grabs one of your hands, searching for your eyes because you seem to be way too lost in your own head to fully be there in that moment with him. “What is it?”

The concern is evident in his voice, making you feel almost guilty for doubting the words that he said to you earlier. How could you doubt him when he looks at you like this?

“It’s nothing, I just…” you start, sighing as you look down at your hands to watch the way he intertwined his fingers with yours, the gesture incredibly reassuring. "Did you mean it?" you ask in a low voice. "What you said earlier?"

"Of course I did." He doesn't hesitate in the slightest. "Did you?"

Surprisingly enough, you don't hesitate either. "Yes."

The way he smiles right after your answer has got to be one of the best sights you've ever seen in your entire life. It encourages you to find enough courage to express your feelings for him once again, wanting to initiate the exchange this time.

You give his hand a gentle squeeze while you look up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes. "I really, truly, do love you, Coriolanus," you say in the most sincere voice he's ever heard.

"I love you too," he replies, that beautiful smile from before only widening. It's impossible not to smile back at him, and he feels even happier when he notices the way you blush despite the darkness of the night. "More than I thought I could ever love anyone."

He keeps your hand in his, and you notice there's no hesitation in his voice when he decides to test his luck once again. "Come to the Capitol with me," he says, but it's not exactly an order. If anything, it sounds more like a hopeful plea.

Again, you should probably think rationally about this. Leave all your life behind to go to a place that's nothing like what you're used to? To live amongst people that are nothing like you, with a completely different lifestyle? What would the people of the Capitol even think when they know there's someone from the districts (and worse, from Twelve) pretending to be one of them? Is Corio even thinking about any of this?

And what about your friends? Or your family? What if someone needs you and you're not here? Would they understand that you're leaving them here for a guy, even when you try to explain how much you love him? And what would you do when you're at the Capitol? Are you going to study? Or try to actually pursue music? Will you ever be able to come back to District Twelve? What if you miss your home? What if you hate the Capitol?

When you look back into Corio's eyes, suddenly none of those questions matter. You try to be rational, but maybe there's nothing rational about falling in love. Maybe you just need to feel it, and right now you feel incredibly at peace. So seen, so much more like yourself, so ridiculously in love that you're happy knowing absolutely nothing is making sense.

So, you don't hesitate again when you nod. His eyes light up and a bright smile appears on his face, tightening his grip on your hand. “Yeah?” he asks, almost unable to contain his excitement, leaning closer just enough.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, because the idea of leaving everything behind to follow him to the Capitol sounds absolutely insane, but it feels so right. “Yes,” you confirm.

You feel his lips press against yours immediately after. The kiss feels like a silent closure. A way of ending the conversation, sealing the promise you’ve made to have a new life together. A way of saying goodbye to your life here in District Twelve.

[theladyragnell]

Nervous embarrassment around them for Eponine and Cosette?

Éponine doesn’t rest any part of her identity on being cool. She takes a little pride, maybe, in the way Gavroche still seems to think she is even at the age when his guardian absolutely should not be cool, or in the way Marius calls her a badass and actually seems to mean it, but it doesn’t really matter because it’s not really true, or something she does on purpose. It’s all just bluster, she’s always known that, all her raised eyebrows and pointed silences, but people read it like she’s unbothered and too cool to acknowledge all the shit she has to deal with.

It’s still disconcerting, though, the way it all goes away the second she’s around Cosette.

Cosette, who looks like she should be a fucking TikTok influencer, too pretty to be real, but who’s too genuine to ever pull that off. Who volunteers, who bakes cookies and shares them around like she’s anxious to please her new friends, who ducks out of evening gatherings to call her father and wish him goodnight like it’s something she wants to do and not a weird obligation. Anything Éponine is, she’s pretty much the opposite, and with the history between them, she shouldn’t give Éponine the time of day, but she still does. One week of awkwardness when Marius introduced them and then she was fine, sought Éponine out to clear the air, and now Éponine gets cookies and offers to babysit and Cosette sitting next to her on the rare occasion she makes a meeting or a party.

And Éponine is completely unable to deal with any of it. Maybe it’s the guilt, from being the favored child when Cosette wasn’t. Maybe it’s that Cosette won’t let her apologize without getting this look on her face like she wants to say sorry too. Whatever it is, it glues Éponine’s tongue to the roof of her mouth whenever she tries talking to her.

“She is gorgeous,” says Marius when she complains, with the easy unself-consciousness of a man who pined over Cosette for a solid three months before Cosette apologetically told him she’s gay, another thing Éponine tries not to think about too closely. “So maybe that’s why you have trouble talking to her?”

“I don’t get like that with people I like,” says Éponine, to a guy who never once noticed how much she wanted him until her and Grantaire’s sadsack crush support group got her over him and got Grantaire to get off his ass and make a move.

“Yes, but it’s Cosette. She’s not like anybody else.”

She isn’t, and Éponine doesn’t know what to do with that, doesn’t know what Cosette wants her to do with that, when she sits down next to Éponine whenever there’s a free chair at her side and doesn’t mind when every word Éponine says is choked off and she fumbles her drinks and almost falls over when she makes the mistake of tipping her chair back.

Mentioning it to Marius is probably a mistake, because after that, he is way more inclined to call Cosette over and give his chair up to her, so Éponine is suddenly spending twice as much time with her, and the exposure therapy isn’t helping. Her only comfort is that her freezing up is way easier to deal with than if she shared Grantaire’s tendency for word vomit.

Cosette notices. Of course she does. She sees the way Éponine is with everyone else and the way Éponine is with her, and she gets this pinched little line between her brows like she’s getting all the wrong conclusions, but she still keeps seeking Éponine out, so maybe they aren’t all wrong. Or maybe she’s like Marius, going for exposure therapy, though Éponine still wonders why.

And she keeps choking and blushing and looking away, can’t help it, can’t keep her cool.

Cosette walks her home after a meeting, like that’s who Éponine is, like she lives down the street from the fifties sockhop, like Cosette’s not the one deserving of that kind of care, but she insists, and Éponine is tongue-tied, so Éponine doesn’t find a way to say no. And they walk, and Éponine feels stupidly like Cosette is carrying her nonexistent books, but Cosette is walking with her arms swinging easily, and Éponine has hers stuffed in her pockets, because Cosette is walking just close enough that their hands would brush if Éponine let hers swing too.

“It’s just me,” says Cosette at Éponine’s door, all earnest and sweet and ducking her head until Éponine is meeting her eyes squarely. “It’s just me, and I don’t want to scare you.”

Éponine has seen so much shit, and the idea of Cosette and her doe eyes scaring her should be laughable. But maybe, at the heart of it, that’s what this is. Cosette matters too much, deserves too much, for Éponine to feel okay fucking this up. “You’re not ‘just’ anything,” she says, and it comes out whispery and weak, but at least it comes out. “And that’s what’s scary.”

“Well,” Cosette smiles, and now she’s blushing a little, just faintly pink where the streetlights hit her, so at least Éponine isn’t alone in it. “Maybe we just … do this. Go slow. And it will get a little less scary for both of us. But there’s no rush, okay?”

Éponine manages to take her hand out of her pocket and put it on Cosette’s arms for a few seconds until she starts feeling stupid not being able to move in any closer and lets go. “Okay,” she says, and smiles stupidly in response to Cosette’s smile before she walks away and goes inside and feels just a little bit lighter.

In the end, maybe that’s better than being cool.

[anxious-witch]

The color between my lines

Summary: The story of the Bojan and Kris is pretty simple. They liked each other, they dated, they broke up. Almost broke up a band over it, too. Really the fact that they are such good friends now is a miracle in itself.

Kris has kept a careful balance ever since. Letting his feelings get the best of him already got him hurt once. He will not do it again. Except, when Jere enters the equation and Bojan seems to be interested in the Finn, can Kris truly let him go? Or will he risk their friendship in an attempt to try again?

Pairings: Bojan Cvjetićanin/Kris Gu��tin

Warnings: mentions of bullying, an unnamed character getting his arm broken, homophobia, mentions of past bullying Kris experienced

Notes:

On AO3

Okay, so first and foremost, a big thank you to @occhi-verdi-come-il-mare for beta reading this and helping me iron some details, and to @reserved-fruit for letting me expand on one of the prompts she got, I am really thankful to you both <3

Second of all, I know this chapter is a bit short, I was getting into bokris dynamics for the first time and I wanted to give a bit of the backstory first. I hope I did them justice. This fic will probably have 2-3 chapters if I don't get carried away. So yeah, enjoy

Kris’ life, for the most part, was a carefully constructed set of rules. Like a sketchbook full of drawings. You were meant to color it, but there were specific colors you should use and you needed to color in between the lines.

Simple.

Or, it was, before Bojan slowly but surely pushed his way in his life. 

Coloring his life over any and all lines, like he couldn't see them at all and breathing to life the colors Kris couldn't have even imagined.

It was a slow but inevitable dance they played, exchanging jabs towards each other. A push and pull, forever circling each other.

“That song doesn't have distortions.” Turned into “I still think you are annoying, but sure, we can hang out after school.” Then, “Please don't faint when you meet my dad.” 

“I don't think I ever would have picked up a guitar if it wasn't for you.”

Was it truly a surprise for them to end up together?

“I don't think I ever felt this way about anyone,” Bojan said to him, his eyes wide and honest. 

They were at the park, in the middle of the night, sitting on a blanket Kris sneakily took from the far end of the closet. He didn't like sneaking out at night, but only this late did they dare to be this close outside.

Besides, it was summer. It was warm and they had no obligations outside of band practices. Kris thought that for once, he could relax a bit and let himself be a bit more laid back.

Bojan passed his hand through Kris’ short hair and Kris pretended it didn't make him shiver. 

“Because you had so many experiences with dating in the first seventeen years of your life?”

Bojan lightly slapped his arm.

“I had a girlfriend before!”

Kris snorted.

“Right. The one you dated for…what? Two weeks?”

“Three!”

“My mistake.”

Bojan pushed him on his back as Kris laughed and kissed him. It was a sure way to quickly end most of their arguments. 

And even those were far and few in those first few months of their relationship.  

Months were passing quickly, though and as summer melted into autumn and then the beginning of winter, things started to change.

It was on a particularly cold night, after a gig they did that they found themselves in Kris’ house. His parents knew about it by this point, and having expressed their approval, allowed Bojan to come over when he liked.

This was how they ended up lying in Kris’ bed, the post gig adrenaline slowly dying down. Bojan was always hit with the low especially hard afterwards, so Kris made sure he didn't leave him alone after.

“Don't you sometimes wish we could just…go away?” Bojan whispered in the dark.

Kris circled his arms around his waist, pulling him closer to his chest.

“Go where?”

“Anywhere. Anywhere but here.”

Kris felt his heart squeeze painfully at the bitterness in Bojan's voice. He gently turned him so he'd face him.

“What are you saying? Why do you want to leave? I never heard you talk like this before.”

Bojan's eyes were piercing, even in the darkness of Kris’ bedroom.

“I just…don't you wish we could just hold hands in public? Kiss? Just, be ourselves?”

Kris carefully considered his words, his hand automatically intertwining with Bojan's.

“I mean, yes. But we have the time. It's not now or never. We are barely eighteen.”

Bojan huffed, turning his head away. Kris gently turned it back to him.

“Where is all this coming from?”

Bojan shrugged, but Kris could feel there was something deeper than that. So he waited.

“There is a guy from the same year as me, but in a different class. Someone broke his arm during recess today.”

Kris felt the chill sink into his bones despite being in a warm bedroom.

“Oh my God. What happened? Did they do it…on purpose?”

There was slight hesitation before Bojan nodded. Then, all at once, it clicked for Kris.”

“They did it because he is gay.”

It wasn’t a question, but Bojan nodded again. Oh Bojan, Kris thought. 

“Are you…” Kris trailed off, unsure what the right word was. Scared? Angry?

 “...okay?”

Bojan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m peachy, but I am not the one with a broken arm, am I?”

“Bojči…”

“Don’t.”

They fell silent, but the tension stayed, hanging heavily in the air. Too heavy for Kris’ childhood bedroom, too heavy than anything that hung between them before.

Kris thought of middle school where people called him a girl and a fag until he cut him hair. How he could have easily been the one to get his arm broken in slightly different circumstances. Yet, what could he say to all that? They couldn’t exactly just pack up and move away on a whim, could they?

Besides, they wouldn’t be in high school forever. For Bojan it was only a few months left, while for Kris, it was one more year. College would be different, they just had to bid their time until then. 

There were so many things Kris could say, but Bojan looked so small and exhausted, Kris didn't want to push. When he was angry or felt something was unfair, he could be quite stubborn. Pressing the issue could only result in more argument. 

“Alright, maybe we should just go to sleep and talk about this some other time, yeah?”

Bojan looked up at him for a moment, his dark eyes piercing. Kris let him, unsure what he was looking for, exactly. Then, after a moment Bojan simply nodded and wrapped around Kris tighter, as if he was trying to melt into him. Kris chuckled and pressed a kiss into his hair.

“Goodnight Bojči.”

“Goodnight Krisko.”

It didn't get better.

Ever since that night, Bojan kept pushing the issue. Saying how, if they stay, they'll cave under the pressure, get stuffed into a mold and then it'll be too late. 

Kris didn't understand. They were still themselves and while certainly, the situation wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t dire either. They were only eighteen. Where would they go? And how?

Bojan didn't seem to have a definitive answer to that, so they stopped arguing. But Kris could tell it didn't leave his mind. Then, things got worse.

Bojan began pulling away. There was no other way of describing it. Not just pulling away from Kris, but from the band, too. Kris wasn't sure what shifted, but ever since Bojan got a new music teacher, he seemed to have completely shifted his worldview.

He kept missing practice and saying he just didn't have a clear idea on the new song they started working on.

Their dates became fewer too, although it did seem Bojan put more effort into maintaining their relationship than he did in maintaining the band.

Kris did wonder why he looked so tired all the time, though. What was he doing?

He came knocking at his front door one day after class and Bojan's mom greeted him. He saw a surprise flash over her face.

“Good afternoon, Mrs Cvjetićanin.”

“Kris, you know you can call me Snežana. But also Bojan isn't home yet.”

Kris made a split second decision to lie and find out what had been happening with Bojan lately. So he smiled, hoping he came off as sheepish and earnest at the same time.

“I actually wanted to come a bit earlier and surprise him, since he had been so busy lately…”

Snežana's face turned understanding.

“Yeah, of course. Come in. You can wait in his room if you'd like. Do you want anything to drink?”

After a bit of small talk with Snežana, Kris found himself in Bojan's room. It was somehow even more of a mess than usual.

What drew Kris in was a stack of papers neatly put on the table. Or well, as neatly as one could expect from Bojan.

When he picked one up, he found they were song lyrics. Not the song lyrics of the new song Kris had been begging Bojan to work on, though. No.

This was-this wasn't even the kind of song that suited the band. And the notes on it confirmed Kris’ suspicion. 

It was a solo song.

Kris slowly sat on the bed, the paper still in his hands. He stared blankly, his brain trying to catch up to what he was seeing.

There was only white static in his head, his heart drumming in his ears. Then, the doors opened and Bojan was standing in the doorway.

Kris felt as if time slowed down. He looked up at him. Saw as Bojan's expression flickered between surprised, to fond. Then, his eyes slowly focused on the paper Kris was holding. His face paled.

“Kris, I-”

“Are you leaving the band?”

Bojan closed his mouth, then opened it, then closed it again. The pressure in Kris’ head grew, static turning into white-hot rage.

“Are you leaving the fucking band?!”

Bojan flinched back, his foot hitting the door behind him. Kris breathed in through his teeth. 

“I don't know yet. But-probably.”

Kris closed his eyes. Tried to breathe through his anger and something awfully close to heartbreak.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Kris’ hand trembled as he dragged them through his own hair, nails scratching over the scalp, attempting to ground himself with the pain.

“Humor me.”

“Statistically, solo singers are more likely to make it in the industry.”

He bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. His breaths came out as labored. He couldn't bring himself to look at Bojan at all.

“So that's what this is about? You want so badly to get away from here, you are willing to leave all of us behind?”

“No!”

Kris finally opened his eyes to see Bojan walking towards him and kneeling down to take Kris’ hands in his own.

“You-you could come with me. If it all works out as it should.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat. Bojan's voice sounded so small, as if pleading him to understand. Kris did understand. But understanding wasn't enough.

“How would that even work? We both agreed we'd have plan B. How do you think this will work with college? Besides, if we are not doing this as a band, how would I even go with you?”

Bojan didn't say anything, which was an answer in itself.

“Is this what your new music teacher told you? Is he pushing you to-”

“He is not pushing me to do anything! I want to do this!”

The black line, crudely drawn across all the other line and colors, cutting it in half.

“Well then,” Kris said, his voice coming out strangely calm, almost frosty, “I suppose there is nothing more to say.”

He saw the exact moment his words hit Bojan, his eyes widening and his face paling even further.

“Wait. Are you breaking up with me?”

Kris felt as if he was in some sort of trance, all his fiery rage turning to ice. He pulled his hands from Bojan's grasp.

“I guess I am.”

He stood up and Bojan did as well, grabbing on to his arms. Kris tried to shake him off, but Bojan held firm.

“No, wait-please listen to me!”

“What is there to listen to? You want to leave? Fine! There is nothing holding you back now!”

Kris began walking towards the door, but then Bojan grabbed him again and pinned him to the door. Kris exhaled shakily and then he was being kissed.

Bojan had never kissed him like this before. So desperate and full of despair. Kris kissed him back and cupped Bojan's face, finding it wet with tears.

By the time he pulled away, they were both breathless. 

“Stay,” Bojan whispered, his hot breath ghosting over his lips.

“Only if you do.”

Bojan's face twisted up in pain. 

“I can't, Kris I have to try. If I don't try, I'll always wonder what would have happened if I tried. I'm sorry.”

Kris’ ice shield broke and tears slid down his cheeks too.

“I'm sorry, too,” he said and pushed him away.

This time, Bojan didn't try to stop him. Kris walked past the kitchen and living room, hearing Snežana humming to the radio, blissfully unaware.

For the first time, Kris didn't say goodbye to her when he left.

He got out on the street and simply walked. Winter sunset painted the sky in beautiful orange and yellow colors, but Kris felt completely devoid of color. 

Like a coloring book with pages torn out and discarded, all the colors uneven and ugly. For the first time he saw them all, but they held no beauty and no warmth.

He swore he would never, ever let Bojan break his heart again. He would never even talk about him ever again.

He was done.

[ladytanithia]

Writing WIP Wednesday - 5/8/24

It's been a while since I posted from The Best-Laid Plans. I've been off doing other fun side projects. I'm trying to get back to work on it. So here's a fairly long snip of Erik and Miranja camping at Rannveig's Fast.

Thanks for the tag, @thequeenofthewinter!

Tagging the rest of the mutuals: @auguamenti09 @dirty-bosmer @guarmommy @igorlevchenko-blog @lillxart

@mareenavee @moriche @skyrim-forever @thechaosdragoness @theoneandonlysemla

No obligation to either read this or share anything of your own, just including you in case you're bored, haha! If anyone doesn't wish to be tagged on these, please let me know - the last thing I want to do is annoy people.

Without further ado...

While Erik started a fire with the unused wood in the fire pit, Miranja got out her bow and scanned the scrub brush below for any kind of small animal to shoot for their supper. They could have fruit and dried meat if necessary, but fresh meat was always so much tastier, not to mention the smell of cooking meat was tantalizing and mouth-watering.

As it happened, a mountain goat wandered into the valley after a few minutes, just as Miranja was starting to descend the stairs to venture further out. She froze and slowly reached over her shoulder to feel out an arrow. She nocked it and drew down on the goat, aiming for the head. She let fly the arrow and it whizzed forth, but the goat moved at the last moment and the arrow glanced off the goat’s horn, sending the animal bounding for safety.

“Shit,” she cursed under her breath, but even as the word left her lips, she realized that the goat’s flight had startled a rabbit out from its hiding place under a bush. Before she could even reach for another arrow, an arrow whizzed down from the patio ledge above and skewered the rabbit through its ribcage. Miranja looked up to see Erik gloating at her, and she smirked and stuck her tongue out at him before hurrying down the stairs to grab their supper.

Murmuring a thankful prayer to Kynareth and to the soul of the rabbit, Miranja took out her hunting knife and cut the animal open from breast to butt, removing all the innards. She beheaded it, cut the feet off, and worked the skin off carefully, keeping it as tidy as possible so that she could dry and sell the pelt later.

When she carried the prepared creature back up to the camp, Erik had the fire going. He’d gone through the knapsacks of the previous campers and found some nice long skewers. As he used his own knife to split the carcass lengthwise, Miranja praised him.

“Holy hagravens, Erik! I can’t believe you shot that little guy from so far away, while he was moving! I knew you were pretty good with a bow, but I had no idea you were that good! I’m really impressed!”

“I’d like to exercise bragging rights,” Erik replied with a slight blush, “but it was a fluke. I’ve never been able to shoot anything as small and fast as a rabbit before. Deer, elk, and mountain goats are bigger targets, way easier to hit. Rabbits deal me fits.” He skewered each half of the rabbit and handed one to his mentor.

“Well, Kynareth must be watching over us tonight.” Miranja grinned as she took her skewer, and he grinned back for a moment before his eyes went thoughtful and somewhat suggestive.

Before he could speak, Miranja gave him a playful scolding. “Erik, you know the rules about camping outdoors. Making love is too big of a distraction when you’re vulnerable to enemies and predators. We have to stand watches.”

“Can we just kiss a little?”

“Will that get you too frustrated?”

Erik thought in earnest for a moment. “No, I think I can control myself.”

Minding their skewers and taking a look around at the same time, they scooted closer. Miranja laid her head on Erik’s shoulder, and he kissed her hair before turning her face gently toward him. Miranja felt a little thrill at his assertiveness, smiling as she closed her eyes and leaned in for the touch of his lips. They shared a sweet, tender kiss, then Miranja told him, “I love that you’re assertive yet gentle at the same time. You’ve obviously gotten more confident, and you’re going to make a wonderful husband and lover to some lucky woman one of these days. And – you’re a very good kisser.”

Erik grinned bashfully and leaned his forehead against Miranja’s. “I had a very good teacher.”

[misspoetree]

Um... you were kinda right with the "sr in case anon didn't saw that" ^^; because yep, anon didn't saw that XD

But honestly, no worries about answering the ask late or so, please, no, just don't, even tumblr (and if not the app then the topics) can get exhausting over time, so please, take your breaks and recover a bit, even if I would never get an answer, it is completly fine, you are not obliged to answer it at all :D

But after you cast out the fishing line like this, I admit, I am a lazy carp, I bite.

CHOMP down on this hc's, because I literally just threw so much mismatched pieces at you (I really FORGOT about Tays business background, OF COURSE! It totally makes sense that Korn keeps him close because of business, I am dumb) but your genius idea about Korn getting a glimpse of Tays dangerous side... hooolyyyyyy... i am getting goosebumps!

(There is still an itch that wants to dig deeper into the whole net of Korns idea behind Tay and Time as friends for Kinn, like, is it just to keep business partners close? If so, how important is the business really, that Korn is willing to let an emotional bond like friendship grow between the boys and risk Kinn, our all-time-titts-out emotional dandy who is fucking starved of platonic affection, to hesitate, if things with the business of Tay or Time goes south? He either considers the business as that safe that it can never fail or loose its worth or Tays Family is that powerful that it wouldn't be good to have them as an enemy (Tay mafia heir incoming????) maybe it is completly different and he has more reasons for it... So much to unpack, I am getting my pool noodle right this moment and gear up for a deep dive)

But back to the important things, your reminder of ep 7, where Korns whole house of cards is swiped away by Tay, YES! One and a million, YES!

Ohhhhh, seeing Korn put business over everything else, that this is the reason for the whole friendship between Tay and Kinn, but then he needs more distance between them, but the more he tries, the more there is Tay with a machete gracefully hacking and slicing the net of lies apart- AHHHHHHHHH! You have a fantastic brain!

Btw, I am so happy that you liked the things my brain came up with, but I am even more in love with what you did with them.

Because Tay sways between the things he was forced to learn, the smiles, the way how he carries himself, the way he speaks and interacts with people, all this got build on the raw, unpolished knowledge that he has no choice but to master all those things if he wants to survive in this world.

He cuts the net Korn sets up, not to fight him head-on but to avoid getting caught in it as well. He simply survives. Inside the conference rooms, where words wield the power and outside in the bars, where a knife is loosely carried and a gun only a few seconds away.

(Again, how fucking exhausted must he be to perform in this two completly different scenarios, with clients and persons that are the exact opposite of each other and still manages to survive?)

Your, I will call it little scene because when I read it, it felt a 100%like it! Holy. Wow.

Oh hell, I need to recover, because you broke open my head and wrote that what I would never be able to convey in words, even if its just in an ask.

You have talent talent my dear, so please, if you start writing it, pin it up everywhere because I really want to read it

Tay being torn apart by his actions versus his heart and emotions is amazing and felt painfull good to read! And it kicks up my brain... I think unlike the other (traumatised™️) kids in the show, I don't think he is used to putting all his emotions aside... especially after I read your snippet, holy... I mean, with Kinn it is pretty obvious that he pushes his emotions aside and is done with it. But Tay?

Im mean, you already showed with your Ep7 reference that he is able to pull Kinn out of it. That doesn't sound like a man who is used to seeing his feelings as unworthy or useless.

I think Tay loves with a feral snarl and a gentle hug. He loves desperately and truly. He knows how to keep his friends safe, how to talk with them about feelings. He isn't someone who pushes everything away knowingly.

So maybe the time where all his training, his watching and analyzing turns into a blind "act", he looses control, he doesn't see himself as the person he knows anymore. And an overthinking, overanalyzing guy meets moral and emotional distress of his own making, ouuu... could turn out pretty dark for a hardworking brain like Tay's if you ask me...

And I am curious because you beautifully crafted the moment, where Tay's whole angelic act comes crumbling to the ground. That moment, when he flees and runs away from his own actions, when he's desperate and broken and so, so vulnurable...

I am curious to see, if there's something that catches Tay when he falls, or if he crashes and break his wings.

For now (I am open for discussion if I overlooked something again XD) I think that Tay... would be pretty lonely. Back then (I think of pre Porsche era) he had Kinn, who is forced to swallow down his emotions (best example, when Kinn listened to Tay and Time how he should smile and behave towards Porsche to show that he is ahem, interested. Aaaaand this brings me back to Tay being so used to putting up an act as soon as he goes outside that he even knows how to break it down for someone else and explain it. Because it is normal for him to know which impulse that he gives causes which reaction. It is engraved in his mind) so Tay is the one who helps Kinn out but on the other hand, it's going to be difficult for a guy with an emotional capacity like a rock like Kinn has, to be helpful in a full fledged breakdown.

And Time? Looking at him roughly, I see someone who has cheated on Tay many times, in this case breaking his trust and definitly the perspective of being someone to hold on to when shit is about to get real.

That brings me to the question, who would catch Tay? Who would take care for him, who or what would give him the place of peace and a break from the constant attention he has to maintain? How could not break under all this pressure?

Your whole part about Tay and his feelings, the moment where his instincts and heart collide and shows him the monster, holy. You nailed this!

Tay wants to love! He wants to have something real, something more than just a lingering thought of companionship or a blissful fantasy!

But he sees himself now, he sees under his own veil and realizes what he could do with that power and those abilitys.

He is so fucking scared and desperate and there's still no one in sight, no one to hold him, no one to catch him. He stares in his own abyss and he stumbles and he falls, he falls, he falls.

I mean, I could be wrong with a lot of this stuff, so I am kicking the ball back to you, what do you think would happen? ^.^

(Having the time of my life with getting into the Tay agenda rn XD)

Beloved Anon, you’re evil (affectionate). ❤

You dropped that into my asks while I was at work, and I genuinely lost my mind for like half an hour. I’m glad nobody came into my office because they would have seen me acting insane. Stading by the window, wrapped in a scarf, staring out into the thunderstorm, vibrating, talking to myself. (Having the time of my life, honestly.) 😂😂

And you’re really sweet and hilarious by the way, thank you. <3

Uhhhhhh, your itch with Korn’s idea behind the friendship with Tay and Time got me itching, too. I DO think that Tay’s family really is that influential. Time says that he crushed his car in the old area of Tay’s father, and “he cleared it off. The whole thing went silent.” There’s more than money necessary to make something like that happen, in my opinion. So yeah, being on good terms with those families is probably a smart business decision. (Random side note: Tay mafia heir is also an incredible sexy concept, OMG. Honestly, why has there been so little Tay action in the fandom?! The possibilities!!! 😭😍)

But you’re right, nevertheless. Ther’s never just one side to Korn’s actions, always playing 4D chess against everyone. And it is risky to allow “our all-time-tits out emotional dandy who is fucking starved of platonic affection” (that description made me laugh so fucking hard, oh my God 🤣🤣) to have this kind of emotional bonds, sure. But: wouldn’t the opposite be even more risky? To put Kinn in complete social isolation and still expect him to be a somewhat functional human being, NO, to be the heir of the family, able to differentiate between friend and foe?

I mean, look at all three brothers and their social life: Tankhun’s “friends” are his bodyguards, paid to be there (dying on that hill that Pol was only hired to keep Tankhun company btw 😌), paid to do what he wants, to obey, to die for him if necessary – not seen as independent, free-thinking human beings at all. (I’m not saying that Tankhun doesn’t love his bodyguards but that still doesn’t change the situation.) And Kim, well, he has completely isolated himself until he decides to pull Chay into his very own net of manipulation and we all know how well that went for Kim, being utterly starved of affection - only ending up tangled in a trap of his own making.

My point is: isn’t Kinn the most socially functioning of all of them because he’s the only one that has real friends? Friends that keep him in check and tell him when he’s being fucking stupid? That are not paid or lovers or part of the family?

And even though I think that Korn doesn’t really get the concept of friendship outside of business, he’s smart enough to see that they are…necessary. That it’s better for his children to have them than not. Well, at least until he comes to the conclusion that one of those friendships might not be worth the trouble…if you catch my drift. 👀

You keep saying such incredible nice things to me (not me reacting like a dog that’s been called “Good girl”, wagging my imaginary tail. 😭 I’m so weak, it’s embarrassing. 🙈🙈🙈) but I also really love your thoughts and the way you phrase things, it’s brilliant! 🙌🏻🙌🏻

I mean, ahhhh, you spelled it out so beautifully, the way Tay isn’t a man “who is used to seeing his feelings as unworthy or useless”. (But a man who might tend to put the feelings of others over his own, to shift the focus from him to others. A man who is used to deal with his feelings on his own. A man who might not push everything away knowingly, but some things just happen to…slip through.)

And your paragraphs about Tay’s actions turning into a blind act, an “overthinking, overanalysing guy meet(ing) moral and emotional distress of his own making” and TAY EXPLAINING HIS OWN ACT TO KINN - *gently shakes you by the shoulders* - ahhhhhhhh, yesssss, exactly, you get it!!!! 😭😭😭

“He is so fucking scared and desperate and there’s still no one in sight, no one to hold him, no one to catch him. He stares in his own abyss and he stumbles and he falls, he falls, he falls,” – AHHHH ANON I’M GOING INSANE AGAIN!!!!

I’m so sorry that I have so little to add to the second part of your ask except for “!!!!!” and *static noise* but I’m actually maybe under circumstances writing a little something. 👀 I’m rusty af and it will probably take months because I’m a really slow writer and I have so little time and who knows if it even will be any good …but I’m still so fucking excited?! So, thank you again for putting the idea into my head and to my Tay HC people who started all of this. 😭🙏🏻

And well, I don’t want to give too much away at this point, but the fic I’m writing plays relatively soon after the thing with Tawan happens, so Kinn is definitely no help with any form of breakdown…or any emotional thing at all. But just like you said, I don’t think that Kinn is very helpful on a good day either. He’s just not a person you would go to…to lay your heart bare.

And well…Time. Good old Time. His infidelity is actually one of the catalysators of my story, getting Tay into this situation he was trying to avoid because he knew (through instinct, paranoia, “training”) that things would end up going south. So, he’s also not a candidate to catch Tay at the moment. If he ever is. But…that doesn’t mean I don’t have plans for him. 👀

I don’t think that there’s any person to catch him, to hold him, to take care of him, actually. Not at that moment, not in the way he needs to, anyway. But I think there’s a person to ground him. A person to make him see things from a different (not necessarily better, but different) perspective. A person who digs out truths with reckless abandon, who isn’t deflected by kicks and screams and a bloody mess but encouraged. A different kind of beast.

I want Tay to go to Vegas. As crazy as it sounds. (And that only works based on my “There's...'something' between Tay and Vegas, some kind of understanding” headcanon, I guess. )

So...wow. This answer somewhat escalated and I hope you’re not disappointed with it, Anon. 😅 (Btw, no need to be shy, my DMs are always open ❤…even though I don’t answer them any quicker, I'm sorry. 🙈)  

[oraclekleo]

Park Do Ha (XEED) Kinky* Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Before requesting, read the pinned post and appropriate linked post

Tarot readings are my hobby - I’m not obligated to accept any of the requests nor to complete them, it’s my choice, not duty

Waiting time is long, even several months

If you can’t wait, please, seek other tarot reader

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: 

Deck: The Dark Wood Tarot

Spread: Kinky* Reading

Questions:

Position

Libido

Turn On

Kink

Dirtiest Secret*

Celebrity Info:

Full Name: Park Do Ha

Stage Name: DOHA

Group: XEED

DOB: 27.03.1992

Sun Sign: Aries

Chinese Sign: Water Monkey

Life Path Number: 6

Masterpost: XEED

Ko-fi - Voluntary Tip for Readings

Park Do Ha

DOHA (XEED)

Deck: Dark Wood Tarot Spread: Kinky* Reading

Position - I The Magician

Doha is a charismatic man, he can work wonders and he has supreme self-control and focus on his tasks. He’s more likely to be the dom in a relationship, not because he would insist on such a position but he simply makes other people naturally respect him and admire him. He knows his full potential and he’s likely to not settle for less than what he thinks he deserves. His pace and concentration might not be everyone’s cup of tea, as he’s not likely to be into small talks.

Libido - XIII The Death

While it might seem unfortunate to have a Death card for libido, it’s actually not bad. Doha is likely to accept himself and his lover fully. He’s not very likely to hold prejudices against any kind of fetish or kink, he’s got an open mind and he’s naturally curious and ever changing and evolving. The fact is, Doha can experience waves of passion anytime and with anyone as he truly sees every person and their graceful side. He's a rather sensual lover and each night with his special person feels unique and life changing.

Turn On - 8 of Cups

Doha is likely to feel attracted to a person with unique life experience, someone who has overcome a lot and has grown stronger and better through adversity. It’s likely for Doha to feel a connection with such a person on a deeper level. They are likely to be mature, Doha is not really looking for a childish person or a drama queen.

Kink - 2 of Wands

Doha is not really a kinky man himself. He’s very realistic and pragmatic and most of the kinks just seem either ridiculous or overly complicated. He’s likely to try anything his lover is into but he’s not the type to have kinks of his own. Doha is a healthy young man and he’s no stranger to passion and lust but in his case, they are sort of pure and uncomplicated.

Dirtiest Secret* - Queen of Cups

While he prefers not to present himself in that way, Doha is actually very empathetic, soft and nurturing. He’s a dreamer and filled with love. He has some motherly qualities when he possesses a deep understanding of his close ones and he never takes sides.

AHHH! He's got such a beautiful smile!

Sorry... I got carried away...

Thank you for reading!

Hit the Like 💖

Comment! 💬

Reblog! 🔁

Follow for more! 💌

Any Feedback is Welcomed ✅

Anonymous Feedback - Google Form

[niennandil-me-writes]

Fragments of a Cybernetic Mind: Chapter 8 - Plausible Deniability

Summary Half a year has passed since the events of Christmas of 2064. The world is slowly adjusting to sentient ROMs. But Turing is distracted from their task as ROM-kind’s leader and ambassador by another obligation they carry. They want to deliver Leon Dekker’s last words to his daughter. But first, they’ll have to find her, which doesn’t prove easy. They ask their journalist friend for help, who seems less than thrilled.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 (final) Epilogue

cn: dehumanization, discussions of suicide

Melody Flores expects us at her villa with the small couch table laden with delicate pastries, cakes decorated with little marzipan flowers, and tea with milk. The doors to the garden are closed, air conditioning running on high power for the sake of Pat the polar bear. Coming inside after traveling through the hot streets of Neo-SF, it truly does feel like stepping from summer into winter.

Melody was very excited when we asked if we could come over. She seems happy to see Turing again, who she has asked all sorts of questions, like one would a child relative. She seems to take the aunt role she assigned herself very seriously.

I sit in one of the comfortable cushioned chairs, a plate in my hands and the robotic cat sleeping on my lap. Pat is eyeing me suspiciously, and I wonder if I took the last piece of his favorite cake. I take a sip of tea and consider how I can broach the topic we came here for.

"But oh, where are my manners," Melody says as she turns from Turing to me. “I’ve been talking to my favorite nephew/niece for an hour and completely ignored my other guest.”

“It’s alright,” I say politely. “You two have a lot of catching up to do.”

“But let me ask you, how is your writing coming along?”

I really wish people would find any other thing to ask me about. “It’s coming along fine.” Which, for once, isn’t a lie. Last week, I started on that chapter I’ve been putting off for ages, and for the first time in a month, I actually made progress. 

“I was wondering if you would let me read through it before it gets published,” Melody says while playing with a lock of white hair. “Just to make sure I’m getting a nice treatment by your text, after the help I provided.” She winks at me. The words are meant as a joke, but something about the way she says it catches me off guard.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Turing grins. “After all, they’ll let me proofread the entire thing as well. Not that I know much about writing styles and narratives. My gifts are more in the visual arts than the written word.”

“And what gifts they are,” Melody chimes. “I do adore the painting you sent me for my birthday. I had Pat hang it up above my bed.”

Pat growls lazily.

“There is something we wanted to ask of you, Ms Flores,” I interject.

“Please, darling, call me Melody.”

“Alright, Melody. We wanted to ask you something regarding the combat android who worked for Dr Fairlight,” I say.

“Ask away, darling, though I don’t know if I will be of any help,” Melody says. “I do owe you my thanks for disposing of it.”

I notice the discomfort on Turing’s face screen and decide to get right to the point. “We are trying to find his family. His family before the brain transplant, that is. And since it was your company that conducted that transplant, we assume you have access to that information?”

Melody thinks for a moment. “I fear that won’t be possible.”

I falter. “But... his family signed a contract with your company to give consent to the procedure. Their contact info must be saved somewhere in your files, right?”

“Sadly, all that data got deleted when our servers malfunctioned some years after the international ban on BACs,” Melody explains. “There might still be a way to retrieve that information, but it would take weeks, if not months, to find it, not to speak of the work I would have to put into that. It would cost a small fortune.” She thinks again. “But how about we make a little deal. One that will be little effort on your part. I just want to look through your manuscript and read that flowery description of the help I was to the uncovering of the Big Blue project.”

“Wait a second...”

“It seems only fair,” Turing says. “After all, Aunt Melody did get us in contact with Vincent Mensa. And without him, we wouldn’t have been able to put the pieces of the puzzle together.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not giving up my journalistic integrity for you.” My whole body is tensing up. The cat wakes up and jumps off my lap. 

“Not even if I could find out the name and address of Wilson Dekker’s family?” she asks. 

A cold stemming from more than the air-conditioning runs through me. I look over at Turing. “I’ll consider your offer.”

“And since we are already discussing this,” Melody continues. “If you are planning to get in contact with the deceased android’s family, it seems like a good idea if you left out the part about his involvement, right? Spare them that connection to this whole ordeal.”

I stare at her. She just keeps twirling her hair, smiling, as if we both didn’t know what she’s asking. 

“Your connection, you mean, Ms Flores?”

“Please,” she laughs. “My company hasn’t been producing BACs for quite some time now.” She makes a throw-away gesture with her hand. “It was under the leadership of my mother that they were created, and as soon as I took over – “

“The use of BACs in the military was banned within the year,” I interrupt her. “You cannot take credit for stopping their production. You were already on the board when they were mass-produced.”

Melody Flores fixes me with a cold stare. “I always worked on demilitarizing Flower Cybernetics and turning our attention to medical applications of the tech instead. If I could, I would have done it sooner, but I did have to wait for my mother to move out of the picture. She ruled the company with an iron fist.”

“That is true,” Turing chimes in. “Aunt Melody is very well known in tech circles for the changes she made to the company as soon as she acquired it. I feel you are being a bit unfair here.”

I look down, embarrassed, but still agitated. “It doesn’t change the fact that your company made its profits from military tech for years, Ms Flores, and on combat androids in particular. You might not have personally done that, but your money - the money that paid for this house - came from the exploitation of economically disenfranchised people who couldn’t afford healthcare or student loans.”

A smile cracks the ice of Melody Flores’ face. “Is that something you assume or did you do your research?”

“I did.” I spent a lot of time on the meshnet these past days, looking up articles on this very topic. “There is a lot of fear on the mesh of combat androids, Ms Flores. Is that why you don’t want me to add my account? Is that why you had your company’s data destroyed? So any crimes connected to brain-controlled combat androids couldn’t definitively be traced to Flower Cybernetics?”

“Even if those accounts were true, I can hardly be held responsible for that.”

“But people will,” I say. “It’s still your company, and with the shares comes the responsibility.”

“Be that as it may, most references to rogue BACs committing crimes of any kind are nothing but rumors and exaggerations,” Flores continues. “As a journalist, you should know how to check your sources.”

“During my research I found countless articles from trustworthy sources on those ‘rogue BACs’ as you call them.” My hands are trembling, like they did last night when I read up on this. “Just for one example, right after the war, there was an android returning home and proceeding to kill his own husband with an axe – “

“Isolated exceptions blown out of proportion by the scandal-hungry media,” Flores responds.

“Was Leon Dekker an exception?” I ask.

“Leon Dekker was paid by Yannick Fairlight to murder anyone who stood in the way of his schemes,” she says. “Which is what you should be focusing on. It was him, not me, who ordered that monster to kill you. I feel you are forgetting that.”

“He didn’t kill for money, and we both know that.” I’ve risen from my seat, standing in front of Melody Flores. Behind me, Pat the ice bear grumbles, but I ignore him. “You thanked us for killing that monster your company created, Ms Flores. Did you know that he did as well? That he screamed out in joy when he was finally allowed to die?”

My hands are shaking, blood running cold. I stare at her. Something in her face clears up, she relaxes back in her chair. I want to throw something at her.

“I understand now where that anger comes from,” she says. “Though I still don’t think I deserve to have it taken out on me. You’re not angry at me for letting the killing machines I had no hand in creating run wild, are you? You are angry because you empathize with them. With him.”

I stare at her, and I realize she is right. I look over at Turing like I’m asking for help, but they have turned away, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation, like a child watching family members argue. 

Before I can think of anything to say, she continues: “Well, you can’t have it both ways: If you see them as humans worthy of empathy, then they must also be responsible for their own decisions.”

I force out a dry laugh. “I’d like to see you make good decisions if your life had been made a cybernetic hell.” I sigh and turn to Turing.  “We’re leaving.”

“But what about – “ They seem close to tears, as much as a ROM can be, anyway.

I cut Turing off, turning to her again: “I’m not writing a propaganda piece for your company, Ms Flores. And I’m not signing that NDA you no doubt had your lawyers prepare the moment we asked to come over for tea.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chuckles. “I had that thing written ages ago. I was about to contact you myself when you asked for this appointment. I thought if you were suddenly so eager to come by, I might have something that interests you enough to be a bargaining chip. I was wrong, and I accept that. Though my offer still stands.”

“We’ll find the information ourselves, thanks,” I say, taking Turing by the hand and leading them to the door. 

“Good luck on that.” She chuckles again. 

I remember Lexi’s words about Dekker’s records being heavily redacted. Now I know that wasn’t just Fairlight, or the military. We are going to need that luck.

[monstermoviedean]

omg hiiiiii arden (sending this as a real ask instead of a message in case other people might find it interesting) did u notice a pattern during ur rewatch of season 3 in regards to specific writers and the misogyny of that season ??? (like how anti blackness often comes from sera gamble etc) or was it kinda the same all across the board ??? my friend who is watching for the first time just got to season 3 and if there IS a pattern i figure it would be a fun fact to share w her while we are discussing :)))) p.s. ily and i love all ur rewatch posts they’re always so interesting to read 💕💕💕 hope your day gets better MWAH

first off i am publishing this because i want everyone to know you are an exceptionally lovely and kind human and this is just one of many examples of you being just outstanding. ily thank you i'm crying a little 💖💖💖

short answer: no, i haven't noticed a specific pattern, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist! (much longer answer below, which was written during several work breaks and is probably incoherent. mostly about ruby and bela and how s3 goes out of its way to be shitty to them for being women. cw for brief mention of abuse)

long answer: i will fully admit that part of the reason i bully gamble so much is because of confirmation bias. i mean i also think she deserves it but i am actively watching her episodes through the lens of "what shit is she gonna pull this time." and then i feel vindicated when she pulls shit. i only say this because i think it informs my answer to your question, because i don't specifically watch spn and look for the misogyny. not because it's not important (it is!!!) or present (omnipresent!!!) but because i think a lot of what there is to say has already been said by others better than i can, and also out of self-preservation. the misogyny in spn is an endless shit mine and sometimes i feel like diving into it and sometimes i just can't.

all that being said! reflecting on s3 in the wake of this question is really really interesting. i think in terms of spn's standard misogyny, season 3 is pretty average. you can expect to see "pretty" young white women get brutally murdered and have little agency or substance, in the same way that all of that happened in. well. all the other seasons. i'm going to call that baseline misogyny. the baseline misogyny in s3 is pretty consistent within the season (between writers) and within the show (between s3 and other seasons). s3 is cool/weird because they only had a handful of writers, and i think they all make some contributions to baseline misogyny (kripke and gamble at the high end, edlund and humphris at the low end).

what's weird/interesting about s3 is it doesn't have just baseline misogyny, it also has special misogyny, reserved for special female characters. because s3 is the season where they started yelling LOOK we have GIRLS on the show about BOYS aren't we amazing??? and then they immediately invent a new type of misogyny for them. s3 has two (maybe 2.5?) special female characters who get special misogyny: ruby and bela, and possibly lilith.

special misogyny is when they go above and beyond to criticize and/or punish a female character for something that a male character would do and no one would bat an eye at. special misogyny is when women get condemned for very normal stuff. i think lilith being portrayed as extra special evil when she's just doing normal demon things counts as special misogyny, but since she's only in like 1.5 episodes i'm iffy on counting her.

the baseline misogyny for ruby and bela is that they both are called bitch way more than is necessary, both have their motives questioned above and beyond men, and both die bloody. standard spn fare, standard baseline misogyny.

ruby's special misogyny is that she's One Of The Boys But A Girl, and that makes her incontrovertibly evil and different and bad. obvs we know s4 ruby is evil but s3 ruby is actually shockingly helpful and doesn't do much to earn criticism apart from existing. ruby pitching the boys shit is treated as more irritating/less forgivable than when, say, bobby does it. she's sarcastic in a way that we are supposed to read as bitchy, because she's a woman. in jus in bello she's also portrayed as weak for being afraid of lilith, when fucking everyone is afraid of lilith. she's also an accessory to dean's death scene.

all of this would be pretty standard, except that ruby is super powerful and super helpful. she gives them the knife, makes them colt bullets, saves their lives repeatedly. it's very clear that she could kill them at any point if she wanted to. and yet! she still gets killed just like any other rando in bitch-on-bitch violence. we're not supposed to trust her because she's a demon but i feel very very strongly that if she was a male demon she'd be portrayed as more sympathetic.

the other thing with ruby is that there is this half a second at the end of malleus maleficarum where her humanity shines through and she and dean start to bond. she tells him she used to be human and that hell makes you forget and that's! fucking incredible!!!!!!! thank you bedlund! and then they never bring up her humanity again. and dean goes back to calling her a bitch. again i think if she were a man she would get more than that one split-second chance at a redemption arc.

bela's special misogyny is that she is Evil and not even for a "good" reason. i fucking love bela and i need to say that at the outset. i LOVE that she outsmarts them and makes them fail and shoots sam (sorry sam no offense). LOVE IT. but all of her actions after her first two episodes are framed as Morally Wrong. she's not just a thief she's a great thief and a proud thief and that is presented as bad and evil. how could a person do such a thing how can she live with herself etc etc. meanwhile dean and sam have an astronomical body count but that's fine because they're heroes!

i think ruby is fairly consistent through s3, but bela shifts dramatically. bela is introduced as a great thief having a great time and being great at everything. it's a little shallow but it's fun and it's different! and she really shines in red sky at morning where she has the impala towed, masterminds a brilliant scheme, and objectifies dean.

(tangent: red sky at morning is the only episode written by a one-off writer in season 3 and is also the ONLY episode to be written by a black writer. his name is laurence andries and i'm immensely grateful to him. and i wonder if he would have gotten more episodes if he'd 1) made bela a bitch or 2) been white. ANYWAY.)

and after those two episodes of bela being a fucking badass who beats the winchesters, the show just completely destroys her. in her last episode she's pathetic and desperate and alone and begging for help and crying. very damsel in distress, which is pretty fucking insulting. and we learn literally moments before she dies that she's a damsel in distress because she's about to go to hell for murdering her abusive parents, which had never been hinted at before in the show. they drop that bomb as an excuse to kill her and then they do kill her, and the tone is of satisfaction. dean hangs up on her as she cries as the hellhounds claw at her door. we're supposed to believe she's getting what she deserves.

it's the same with ruby! when ruby dies we're supposed to think "well she shouldn't have been a demon" when she said herself she used to be human and all her actions appeared to the audience to be helpful to the heroes. on a show where the tagline could be "since when do we get what we deserve?" these two are killed for no reason and we're supposed to think "yeah they deserved that. fuck them."

i think ruby is pretty consistent across her episodes, and kripke is probably responsible for the laying of her foundation. but bela...bela's first two episodes are written by edlund and andries and they're standard misogyny at worst. she takes such a turn in her last four episodes and you know who wrote or co-wrote all of them? you know who wrote in the weird inexplicable pointless scene where sam has a sex dream about her? you know who made her an abuse survivor and had the heroes mock her for that? and then killed her? yeah. yeah you do.

genuinely, truthfully, i didn't even realize that the bela turn can be attributed to one person until i'd written almost this entire post. i went to check bela's episode list to see if i was forgetting any Misogyny Moments and well. when you look at the episode list.

in conclusion.

(also i have no idea at this point if i answered your question so please let me know if i can be more clear/helpful! this was really fun for me to think about and i appreciate the prompt MWAH!)

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

what i want | s. todoroki 

➳ tags ;; face-sitting, afab!reader, overstimulation, scent kink (?), smut, mdni 18+

➳ wc ;; 1.5k

➳ a/n ;; saw a tiktok + and read this shiggy drabble by @/saintdabi ‘s  and now this concept wont leave me alone in anyway.  literally wrote this like i was posessed... 

➳ plot ;; midoriya sends a certain link in the groupchat. todorki gets curious and clicks. suddenly he wants to try seomthing. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

“Can we try something?” 

The question catches you off-guard. Not because it’s a weird and kind of vague question (which it is) but because of who’s asking. Todoroki rarely ever brings things up out of the blue. You’re trying to make dinner so you don’t really have a lot of time to think about why. You dry your wet-hands on the front of your apron, stirring the pot. 

You don’t bother to think twice when you reply to him. 

“What do you wanna try?” 

A silence falls. It’s just a beat too long, which isn’t uncommon for him but isn’t what you expect. You glance over your shoulder after salting the water, squinting. Todoroki almost mirrors you, reading something off his phone. He looks up at you after taking one last glance, as if to make sure he got it right. 

“Face-sitting,” 

You almost fall over. 

He says it so nonchalantly, you’re almost sure you’re hearing things. You brace yourself on the counter and turn down the heat almost entirely, trying to ensure your house doesn’t go down in flames. You blink at him owlishly. 

“Sorry.. can you repeat that?” 

He looks confused. He was sure he said it correctly. He blinks a few times, glances at his phone again as he tilts his head to one side. 

“..face-sitting?”  

You think you’ve gone mad but he looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost it. Your skin grows beyond hot underneath your clothes - a vague emotion of arousal rolling through you. With your mouth agape, you decide that there’s no way you could continue with dinner so you turn it off and stare at him. Nervously, you cross your arms over your chest. 

“.. Where did you..?” 

Todoroki, stoic as ever, shrugs. He looks down at his phone and this time, you can hear the constant buzzing. 

“Midoriya sent a link into the chat on accident. I clicked it,” ― he says, and then seemingly decides this needs absolutely no more explaining than that ― “It looked interesting,” 

You stare at him. 

“Were you... watching porn while I made dinner?” 

He nods. You think you might lose your mind at this rate but you press forward anyways, eyes looking down at his pants. He’s as soft as can be, you’d know. 

“You’re not hard..?” 

He nods, again. Looks at you confused like he has some reason to be. 

“I only get hard with you,” 

You inhale a sharp breath. You think this man might kill you some day, but you’d probably let it happen. Shaking your head, you lean against the counter. With a smile of sympathy, you decide to be straightforward with it. 

“..I’m pretty sure I’d crush you baby,” 

Without missing a single beat, he shakes his head. This time, there’s a faint hint of a blush on his face. 

“I don’t care. I.. really want to,” ― he looks up at you with the most curious eyes you’ve ever seen ― “Please?” 

You’re not sure how to feel. The possibility of mishap is enough to make you want to reject him again but he looks so hopeful. The idea of your beloved boyfriend walking around sulking is guilt-inducing enough to make you sigh and give in. He smiles when you nod. 

You walk over towards him, only really planning on giving him a kiss. You’d been out most of the day and were planning on taking a night-shower after dinner. 

“Okay, well - let me shower first and -” 

He shakes his head, almost petulant. Strong arms wrap around your waist as he drags you down to his lap with an urgency he can’t seem to contain. You yelp audibly, hearing soft breaths in your ear. Something twitches to life underneath you as soon as you sit, making your eyes grow wide. 

“Can’t wait that long and..I like it better like this,” 

Your eyes grow wide. The “this” remains vague but you’ve caught onto how Todoroki seems to like you more before you’ve showered than after. Still, it makes your skin hot. You want to argue with him - about to protest and struggle out of his grip but all of a sudden his voice goes raspy. Soft and low against the nape of your neck. 

“Please, my love. I really want to,” 

You swallow the saliva in your mouth, mind blanking at the sound of his voice. It goes right to your core, a pleasant throb in your shorts. You’re still wearing your apron and PJ’s. You agree maybe too easily, weak to him and his desires. 

“Fine but how do you want to...? On the couch..?” Your words come out unusually meek. You’re never such a nervous person there’s something thick in the air. Palpable desire that makes you weak. 

A warmth settles in your skin as he wastes no time, undoing your apron and letting it fall to the floor. Slender, pretty fingers go into the waist band of your shorts and without a second thought, he helps you slide them off your legs. 

It’s almost like an inspection, how you’re sprawled over his thigh. It’s all happening so fast - your mind moves too slow to keep up. His pointer finger drags across your clothed cunt, chin resting over your shoulders. His brow furrows at the wet-spot on them. A whine leaves you in embarrassment that he ignores. 

“You’re wet already.. sorry to make you impatient,” 

The apology is so genuine you’re not sure how to reply. 

“Here.. I’ll lay like this and you can rest your knees on the cushion,” 

You move off of him and stand to see what he means. He gets himself comfortable, head resting on the armrest of the couch. You blink as he gestures to where you should place yourself. When he says sit on his face, he means sit . He means lean forward so your ass is facing him. The realization hits you like a truck. 

Out of obligation, all the furniture in your house is lavish and this couch is no exception. All white and big enough that you could spread out on it without much effort. You know you’ll fit but you hesitate. Todoroki looks at you patiently but you can practically feel how much he wants it. 

With a little help, you manage to get into position. It’s a little humiliating - the feeling of his warm breath fanning your cunt. You’re still just hovering above him, and you squirm around as best you can. So nervous you think you’ll pass out. 

“Are you sure you want to ― aah!,” 

Without a word of warning, Todoroki pulls you down until the full weight of you ends up on his face. Your panties are still on but he doesn’t seem to pay any attention, his tongue lapping at your clit with such fervor you can’t help but moan. The angle from which he eats you hits the spot so perfectly, works you up until your pussy is practically drooling on his face. 

You let out a feverish squeal at the pleasure, still light but overwhelming enough that you’re wiggling away. Every now again between licks, he lets out a deep groan that vibrates against your sex so sweetly. Your stomach churns as your hands splay on his abdomen. 

“Sh-shouto my, fuck - my panties, you’re gonna get them, hmph” 

He lets you up, ever so briefly, just to whisper a hoarse “sorry,” move your panties just to the side before making you plunge right back down onto his tongue. You taste sweet and slight - but it’s better after a long day. So much stronger in his mouth, he can’t enough of it. 

Saliva and slick drip down his chin and cheeks, further fueled by the way you whimper above him. He eats you out very often but it’s different like this - you can’t go anywhere because his arms are secure around your thighs and his tongue keeps slurping so greedily at your swollen clit. He’ll stop just to feel it pulsate before carrying on with incredible enthusiasm. 

And he moans through it like it turns him on more than him fucking you. You’re honestly inclined to believe it might. His hands that rest on your ass, spreading you apart so he can go just that much deeper. Your nerves are being worked, the sheer stimulation is too much for you. He’s overzealous and shameless about it too. 

“You taste so good my love, fuck” 

Hearing him speak to you makes tears well at your eyes. He slides his tongue over your puffy clit over and over until he hits a rhythm. The constant feeling of pleasure sparks again and again and again until an orgasm so steadily builds in you. 

“Shouto, shouto - baby, please! Slow down or I’ll c-cum,” 

He heard you, he must have because if anything he goes that much faster. So fast that you’re practically sobbing his name, drooling and blindsided as the coil in your belly snaps. You cum so hard and so fast, you think you’re going to see your maker. Your toes curl and your walls flutter. A high whine leaves your mouth. 

“Baby, no more - can’t anymore,” 

He stops but only to speak with an almost delirious voice. Deep and possessive as his hands bury into your hips. 

“I’m not done yet” 

You realize a second too late what you’ve just gotten yourself into. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[kimetsu-no-imagines]

Kink Headcanons - Tanjiro

a/n : had to think of something to write i guess!!!! also no one @ me after reading this okay, also this was originally goona be all three main boys but uhhhhhh i got carried away warnings ; pregnancy/breeding kink (and as such, implied/just straight up mpreg), general clothes/undergarment sniffing, explicit mentions/descriptions of oral, descriptions for both genitals for the reader, not proofread as per usual

Tanjiro

- i honestly feel like this goes without saying but - absolutely, unequivocally wants to get you pregnant. - any time you’re having sex or about to have sex or really just any time at all, the thought and the vision of you all round and glowing with his child is..........just painted on the insides of his eyelids. - there’s an odd amount of guilt about it, he thinks-would it be pressuring you, to tell you about this desire? would you feel obligated to oblige him? - for those reasons, this desire remains a secret. .... for a while. - something he is less than secretive about is his addiction and admiration of your, ah... scent. - your undergarments go missing regularly. he claims not to know anything, even offers to help you look-but then you’ll walk in on him later and catch him with the cloth pressed up to his face, as nose, as much as it possibly could be. - tanjiro isn’t typically one to tease, but whenever this happens-and it’s a repeated occurrence, i promise-he just gives you the same coy, almost innocent smile as he removes his other hand from his dick and beckons you to join him. - “ahh... hello there, flower. i miss the real thing, won’t you come over here?” - it’s times like those where he could sit you on his face for...h o u r s. - he can-and has, most likely will-cum untouched just from being between your legs. - and it doesn’t matter what exactly you have down there, either-you’re sitting on his face. he won’t stop begging until you do. - to get into specifics, though; - if you have a cunt, between his tongue rapidly moving from being inside you or against your clit, and all the pleasured humming and mumbles against you, it’s almost always a very... overstimulating experience. he’ll stop if you really insist on it, of course, but.....usually he likes to go until he himself has had his fill of you. - and it’s much the same for if you happen to have a cock-though he might tease you a little more in this case, which is rare at all for him, so it really isn’t that much. he delights in the way you whine when he “hesitates” to take you down his throat-and he delights more in your pleasure-filled expression as he takes you all at once without any warning. i don’t think he has much of a gag reflex, with how strong his sense of smell and everything else is-he’s strong, you might say. - and because he is so utterly concerned with your pleasure and your pleasure alone... - his desires to knock you up, as previously mentioned, only come up by accident. or, well-maybe not an accident. not on your part. - who is he to tell you to stop when you’re riding him so... nicely, so expertly? who is he to interrupt your pleasure as you use him to get off like this? and yet, as he finds his end rapidly approaching and your movements only increasing... he grows anxious. - “love-l-love, flower, i’ll cum, you’ll make me cum, please relax for a moment, let me-” - but you interrupt him with words he’s only dreamed of hearing you say. - “fill me up, tanjiro-cum inside me.” - his breath falters for a second, and from above him you see his pupils almost burst with lust, but he fights to contain himself, simply biting his lip to hold in a whimper and nodding. - “... do you want that? you want to fill me up with you?” - your questions make him keen, and his hands abandon your waist to grip at the sheets like a vice, and he can’t help it, he’s been holding it in too long and it feels too good, so he blurts out almost helplessly. - “i-i want to get you pregnant, love, please-don’t stop-” - he’s beyond himself, so his words don’t catch up with him for several seconds-it’s only your slight pause that makes him start to panic, but even then, before he can rescind his statement you’re already doubling down on his cock again. - “give me your children, tanjiro, i want it, want it,” you chant over and over for him like it’ll save your life, and within literal seconds you’ve been flipped onto your back, knees hovering almost next to your ears as you’re pushed into a mating press, essentially-it’s like a dam has been broken, you swear you’ve never seen him quite like this. -  “you’ll look so beautiful-” thrust “-swollen and round with my-” thrust “-our-o-our children, my love-take it, take it, take my children, flower, please, please-” - it’s all so much, for the pair of you, apparently-warmth fills you as watch tanjiro cum above you, his entire form trembling, and as if in response, you can’t help but follow directly after him. this is the first time he’s ever filled you up, in this nature, at least-not that you’re complaining. ... you’re not sure you’ll be satisfied doing it any other way, from now on.

[jangmi-latte]

࿐ “If Malleus had given you anything in the form of gold or diamond. You must prepare yourself. That’s a sign. You may not bear his kids just yet, but once his heat comes, it will be inevitable to stop him.”

➻ warnings: nsfw w/ a mix of fluff, breeding kink intensifies, vaginal penetration, clingy mal mal, rough sex, cunnilingus, just malleus going all out 

➻ comments: it’s going to go back and forth between fluff and smut so be aware. minors, do not interact! this is The Dragon’s Temptation part two so enjoy! 4.4k words and fem reader <3

"Lilia…" you called, concerned, "...why are you laughing so much?" With no signs of stopping, the old fae continued to holler in laughter. His whole body shook as he continued to take in deep breaths in between chortles. You were growing even more concerned. It wasn't maniacal laughter, neither was it sadistic, it was just Lilia laughing in… joy if you would put it.

Silver— who was staring at Lilia and is currently half-awake—nudged his father to catch his attention; it didn’t work. Scratching his head with the same concerned expression on his face, he said, “Father. You know how laughing out of nowhere makes me nervous.”

The old fae shimmered down into small chuckles, wiping a tear or two as he laid back on the couch. Out of breath is he, he looked at you and chuckled again. His shoulders mockingly shaking before letting out a loud sigh. “It’s happening again.”

“What’s happening again?” both you and Silver asked simultaneously. Lilia looked over at the second-floor balcony of the castle they resided in. In silence, he caught Malleus, who stood and was staring at nothing; or at you. He was deep in thought, and neither you nor Silver noticed. Lilia asked Silver to give you and him some privacy, and the young man respectfully obeyed. He left you with the older fae and your husband, who now descended down the stairs, yet hid behind the wall. He avoided you, much to his dismay, and you have yet to notice the distance he has been placing.

“y/n, dear.” He sat upright and gestured for you to sit down beside him. You obliged and listened attentively. Lilia’s tone was soft, fatherly— or grandfatherly— like. Your thumb caressed the small black diamond that adorned your wedding ring whilst you glanced around in hopes of looking for Malleus. With half your attention situated in your surroundings, you looked back at Lilia, who held a knowing smile.

“Has Malleus given you anything yet?”

You pondered; it wasn’t your anniversary or was the day anything special. You replied, “Uhh... “ you bit the joint of your index finger in thought, “Give me anything like what? Be specific, please…” In the back of your head, you knew the answer. You have been married to and living with Malleus for five years now, it’s not unusual for Lilia to act like something was going to happen.

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about, dear.” There go the shaking shoulders and the suppressed laughter again.

Knew it.

You took a deep breath of air and leaned back on the couch. Your hands covered your face in embarrassment as you remembered the night before. Malleus gave you a pair of 24-carat gold earrings last night. Additionally, he was very lustful and clingy. He would sniff your neck while you’re in the kitchen, he would kiss your knuckles while you’re at the garden, he would hold and grip your thighs while he handled royal duties, and he would kiss and lick your breasts while you slept.

“Those earrings surely are beautiful.” Lilia grinned and stretched, before continuing, “Looks like I have to tell the gnomes to be ready in nine months again.”

“No, wait, Lilia! I’m not even pregnant—”

“Yet.” He cut you off with a wink.

“How would you even know I would get pregnant again this time?!” you whisper-yelled, face flushed in red. Unbeknownst to you, Malleus has been itching to touch you again as he stayed behind the wall. As each day passes by, he keeps on touching you, making sure to stay close to you at all times. It was only today that he kept his distance. He knew he would break any second and just fuck you on the spot.

“Is Faye enough of an answer for you?”

“Mama!”

Speaking of the devil, a little girl, no older than four, ran inside the castle’s lounge and wore a big grin on her face. She stopped just as your legs caught her from toppling to the ground. In a fit of giggles, she climbed onto your lap and kissed your cheek. “Hi, baby,” you cooed and rubbed your nose against your daughter’s cheek.

“Mama, mama. I found...i-i found—” she spoke, too hyper and giddy to finish her sentences as you tried to calm her down while rubbing her back.

“Deep breaths, sweetie.”

Obeying, she took a deep breath and exhaled. She then continued with her statement, “I found a mama duck with her…” she stopped and looked at her fingers, mumbling the numbers as she lifted each finger, “...four—” she showed you four fingers, “—baby duckies, and they were going for a swim! I want to touch one, but Silver told me not to.” Faye pouted.

You grinned, giggling as you kissed her cheek. “That’s great! And Silver is right. Don’t touch mama duck and her babies because she might get angry and hurt you. It’s just like how papa and I would get angry if someone else touches you.”

“She looks so much like Malleus. I feel nostalgic,” Lilia spoke and squished Faye’s cheeks. He wasn’t lying; Faye had green eyes and your hair. What made her look a lot like her father was her having his horns. She has developed into a part dragon, and her horns looked like two small bumps on her head.

“Grandpapaaaa…” Faye complained with a giggle as Lilia stopped his pinching. “Where’s papa, where’s papa?!” She looked around and even stood on your lap to look for her father.

“Ah, Faye. Come with grandpapa for a second. Playtime is over. It's time for your reading sessions. Your mother will look for your father while we read.” Lilia nodded his head towards the wall near the stairs, indicating Malleus' whereabouts. He carried the princess away from you and into another room. She even waved at you and sent you a flying kiss before Lilia closed the door. You sighed.

Malleus is in heat and Faye needs not to know about that.

“Mal?” you called and stood. You hear shifting from behind the wall and as you glance over, you see your husband. He was a bit bigger than his usual height and he had his long tail gently swishing behind him. The formal (it was casual in a way) attire he was wearing had the top buttons unbuttoned, giving you the best breast window you would ever see. As you took in a sharp inhale, he approached you.

You couldn’t speak as he eyed you; you eyed him back. Your brain absorbed this work of art of a husband in front of you. Handsome would be an understatement. “Dearest,” he sighed.

“Why...Why are you like this?” you asked, now concerned as you held his arms.

“You already know the answer.”

“I know but...why…” You moved your hands around, gesturing his whole physique while he looked down at himself. “Has Faye seen you like this?”

“She has,” Malleus said, making you surprised. “She likes playing with my tail. It gave me enough of a distraction from wanting to touch you,” he admitted. His tail wrapped around your waist and pulled you flushed against his chest. The closer you are to Malleus, the more you look at his features.

Your hand caressed his jaw as you smiled, "When did this happen?"

"This morning while you were in Faye's room. It was a sign for me to avoid you at all cost." Malleus' voice was strained and gruff. It held the hesitance of him needing to speak those words. He wants to do the exact opposite of course.

"And why would you do that? Mal. I'm your wife. It's my duty to make sure you're alright and sustained with all your needs. Do you really think you could avoid me?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I survived during your first heat," you confidently spoke. You felt the king's possessive and needy hands rub against your clothed hips. Itching their way under your dress and towards your thighs while he kept eye contact with you. "And you wouldn't hurt me."

"y/n, you don't understand," came his strict and authoritative tone. "With me in this form, I am already warning you, it's dangerous—"

"That's not stopping me from staying away from you."

"You're so stubborn." Malleus knew who he married as he exhaled through his nose and looked away in sexual frustration. Blabber here, blabber there, that's what you two are doing. What he wants is to mark you, kiss you, lick you, and make you scream already. Unbelievably horny.

You stood your ground, arms crossed over your chest as you stared up at your man. "I am."

His tail tightened around your waist, teeth gritting in frustration, "I held back on my first heat because you weren't my mate yet," he emphasized, "and now that you are my queen—" His used your chin to bring your face closer to his, lips grazing yours sensually as his slitted pupils glared at you, "—I am not going to hold back."

"I will fuck you. Breed you. And make sure you're pregnant by the end of the week. I can not and will not be able to hold myself back if that were to happen. Even if you tell me to stop, I will not. Do you understand, y/n?"

Air got stuck in your throat as your lips quivered. Either you were sexually turned on by Malleus' demeanor or you could really sense how intense his heat was at the moment. He was right. The moment you said 'I do' was the same moment you were claimed as his mate, his queen. How that sentence made your legs weak if it wasn’t for his tail holding you firm.

"Then so be it."

"y/n—…" Malleus searched your eyes for any signs of hesitance, maybe even fear. There was none. Must he be scared if he were to hurt you. You wanted to be there for him during one of his intense moments. Well, you were the one who gave him an heir; it’s not anything new that you would give him another. He only fears that with his strength and power as a fae, with him going out of control, he might just harm you.

And Malleus never wanted that to happen, not to you, not to Faye, not to anyone.

To you, this man is still your husband. This is still Malleus Draconia. Just different but it’s still him. You are his weakness; no matter how stubborn you get, even now that he YEARNS to be around you, you still have that impact on him. “Mal. I promise I’ll be okay. I’m here to help you.”

He sighed, letting you wrap your arms around his chest. “I’ll tell Lilia to keep Faye away from the castle for a week. I can’t expose her to this,” he mumbled against your hair. “By tomorrow, you should be ready.” You felt him inhale your scent as his grip around you tightened. Smiling, you kissed his neck, “As you wish.”

❥❥ ❥❥ ❥❥

“Faye, don’t give grandpa and your two big brothers a headache, okay?”

Tomorrow came sooner than you expected. Your husband is going to be one horny dragon for a week and it was hard to find an excuse to tell Silver, Sebek, and Faye since they’re going to be living in a cottage in the meantime. While you prepared yourself the previous night for Malleus—he was already impatient while you spoke to Lilia—you were also preparing Faye’s stuff. Not only did you have to prepare yourself for a rough week, but you also need to prepare to conceive another child. Faye is already old enough and you’re most likely going to give her a little sibling.

The first time Malleus was in heat already caught you off guard, but this time, you were ready. Besides knowing his sex patterns already, this new season was going to bring something new. Malleus’ draconic features showed no signs of disappearing and if his heat wasn’t sustained, he’s going to be very grumpy. You trust Lilia enough to look after your daughter. You could even see Malleus stare at his daughter while she got ready to leave. He’ll miss her, even if it was just a week.

“Yes, mama. I promise!” Faye hooked her small pinky around yours and she pecked your cheek. Sebek was already holding her bag while they waited by the door. Malleus looked at Lilia, eyes squinted as if to tell him something. The older fae just chuckled and nodded, “I got her, I got her.”

“Young Master, are you sure you’ll be alright on your own with the young mistress?” Sebek asked worriedly while he gripped the doorknob. It was a surprise to see his king in such a state, more reason for the knight to get worried. Malleus nodded, watching you approach him with Faye in your arms.

“Kiss papa bye-bye,” you said.

Faye pouted and hooked her arms around Malleus’ neck. Her father held her gently as she kissed his cheek. “I’ll have fun with Silver and Bebek but I’ll miss papa,” she admitted. Malleus smiled and placed his daughter down by using his tail, “I will be alright. After one week, you’re sleeping with your mother and I. Be obedient, am I understood?”

An overprotective father is scarier than a dragon if Silver and Sebek would ever compare.

“Yes, papa!” giggled Faye as she held Silver’s hand.

“We’ll be going now. See you in a week.” Lilia grinned while he ushered the two boys outside. You and Malleus stayed by the door, watching your daughter skip away while she held Silver and Sebek’s hands. “Call us if anything goes wrong okay? Don’t hesitate!” you called out. Lilia simply waved his hand at you while hearing Faye say, “Bebek, I want to pick fruit up trees again!” as their figures slowly disappeared from your view.

You sighed, already missing your daughter. And while you moved away from the door, it slammed shut loudly. Malleus’ hand on the door indicated that it was him who slammed it shut. Without you taking notice, you are now trapped between his body and the door. Your back faced him as his nose tickled your neck; his tongue slithered across your nape, the warmth of his tongue and the cold air sent shivers down your spine.

“Mal…” you inhaled, your hand holding onto his thigh while you arch your neck, “We just sent them off. They might come back…” came your quivering breath.

“Oh, they won’t come back.”

“What—”

Before you could even blink, you were thrown on the bed, dazed by the sudden shift of environment. From the living room, you’re now laying submissively on the bed. He towered over you, eyes narrowed, and glared at you so lustfully. “Wait—”

“I warned you, y/n.” The king crawled on top of you. His long tongue slithered across his lips, breath hitting your face as you started to pant in anticipation. The room grew hot. Your body felt like it was burning. Your legs rubbed against the sheets in dire need to be touched and fucked until you could no longer walk. Only he could make you feel this way. Your man.

“I will no longer hold back.”

And holding back he did not, indeed.

Gripping your neck, Malleus captured your lips in a hot, searing kiss. His tongue, with no hesitance, slithered inside your mouth and in desperation and temptation. Incapable of resisting your own muffled moans, and to keep yourself sane, you weakly gripped on his bicep and his wrist. He held you by your neck to keep you in place. It was his way of showing you dominance.

Breath was knocked out of your lungs almost immediately. To keep up with his addicting, electrifying, pace was enough to make you light-headed. With his knees being his support, his other hand roamed on your body. With just a tug of his finger, your clothes were discarded, ripped, on the floor. He was devouring you, really making you feel that you are his mate, his fucktoy for the day.

Moving from your lips to your neck — without even letting you have a moment’s breath — he sensed your pulsating veins. You could feel your heart beating everywhere; from your neck to your chest, and down to your cunt. You laid bare under him and you don’t even know. You felt lightheaded.

“M..Mal…” you panted.

He sucked and bit on every sensitive spot he knew would make you weak. As the rapid beast he is, he left marks, dark and bruising, at his wake. Littering your neck and your chest as his tongue flicked against your nipples. Roughly did he suck and tug with his teeth. He made them look swollen, indescribably sensitive. The hotter your body went, the more you wanted him to touch your throbbing clit already. You don’t know if the marks have satisfied him; it felt like he wanted to add more. To litter your body with hickeys that showed that you're His Highness, Draconia’s only. Waves of arousal hit you strongly as he descended to your navel.

“Shit,” he panted against your skin.

He finally stood upright, kneeling against your whorish spread legs. Your wet, glistening pussy is clear in his sight. He is hungry.

You were left under his gaze feeling so sensitive and aroused, any touch that lingered on your skin would leave goosebumps and shivers. “Mal—!” Just as you were calling out, he dove down to your cunt and latched on your clit. His lips did the work as he greedily sucked and nipped on your hardened clitoris. Your back involuntarily arched as you gripped on his horns. His hands kept your legs open. Choking out loud moans while he slithered his tongue inside your walls.

“M-Mal—..please..please! T-Too much—!” you gasped out.

It was too much, alright. Your cunt so red and wet, your hips shivering as he pushed his tongue in and out. Eating out your wetness with strings sticking and stretching from his lips to your cunt. He groaned with every tug you did on his horns. He was so good, too good, with his ability to pleasure you with his tongue alone. He was right. It was so rough. It was nothing like his first heat.

It was animalistic.

Your overly sensitive nub hardened the more he sucked. Malleus’ thumbs even spread your labia open for more access. You are vulnerable, stimulated, and submissive to him. It was all coming swiftly. You could’ve drenched the sheets with just your wetness alone. Cries of pleasure alone bounced around the bedroom walls along with the audible wet sounds that Malleus’ mouth made on your pussy. He thrusted his tongue, wiggled it inside you, hitting your spots more than you could handle. At this point, you’re shaking with your toes curling.

“I’m close! I’m close— I can’t b-breathe…!” you cried out with your body spasming. Subconsciously, you squirted just as he pulled away from your nub. Now, you’re too overstimulated for you to think straight. You panted at the intense orgasm you had. Your hazy vision looked at Malleus. He was licking your cum from his lips. “You’re ready.”

You couldn’t see his thick cock from your position. All you could do was watch; up until he flipped you onto your stomach with a pillow under your stomach to lift your hips. Your weight leaned on your knees while your arms — as weak as they are — lifted you enough to keep your head from the bed. “Malleus...wait, I’m not—”

He did not listen. Malleus rubbed his cock against your slit and without warning, he slammed into you, deeply. In one sharp thrust, he was balls deep inside you as you cried and gasped loudly. He hovered over you, pushing his hips further into yours. Your cunt was quivering from accommodating his thick cock. You have never felt so full.

“Malleus!..Nngh!”

You’re just where he wanted you to be. Under him, screaming in ecstasy, ready to take his seed. Letting him breed you until your pussy couldn’t hold his cum. And he wouldn’t stop even though it’s already spilling on the bed. Your walls devoured his cock greedily. It sucked him. You're still so tight even after giving birth years ago. To fuck you senseless would drive him mad.

That he did.

Pulling all the way out, Malleus pounded back into you. There was no mercy in his thrusts as he snapped his hips against your ass. He grunted at how you make him feel good. Breathy moans left his lips while you moaned under him. Each thrust was harder and rougher than the last. He was speeding up. One objective in his mind was to make you pregnant. It was just day one. His tail wrapped around your waist, lifting your ass higher for him to fuck you more relentlessly.

“You...take me so well,” he panted as he leaned his lips against your back. “Just hang in there. You’re doing so good…”

His cock grazed and hit just the right spots inside you; he was going to bruise your pussy with his roughness. You were growing addicted to the pleasure building up inside you. As you kept on moaning his name, his relentless thrust fueled you into absolute bliss. Fuck, you wouldn’t even know if you came again. The pleasure just never seems to seize.

His fingers crawled down to your hardened clit, rubbing them in circular motions which sent you twitching and biting down on the sheets. “Mal that’s too much!” you screamed in stimulation. Tears were already dripping down your cheeks. “Aah…! Fuck—!”

“I’m not stopping,” he growled, pounding repeatedly.

Skin slapping against skin was very evident now, the bed rocked under the both of you. You couldn’t even scream anymore, you shimmered down to whimpers and gasped. His deep groans seem to be more audible as you feel him coming closer to his orgasm. You’re trembling as he manhandles you. He really used you like his fleshlight. With a sharp thrust, you moaned loudly. Leaving your mouth hanging open as you squirted for the second, third, or was it the fourth, time.

Watching you erotically cum and stain the sheets just drove Malleus wild. It was beautiful. Seeing you filled up with his seed just urged him more. The tightness of your pussy just made him moan louder, pushing further into you as his pace grew erratic. “Take it, my queen.”

He panted, “Take all of my cum…!”

Malleus’ hips halted, ejaculating deep inside you while you’re left whimpering at his warm cum filling you up. You convulsed and continuously quivered. His thick semen already spilled out of you before he even pulled out. It felt amazing. It was so...fucking addicting. You tried to collect your breathing, left staring at the sheets as sweat ran down both your bodies. He finally pulled out, leaving you empty as you sighed in relief. Malleus watched as cum dripped down your thighs; he grew hard again.

Just as you were lifting yourself up, your husband flipped you onto your back, “You’re not going anywhere,” he smirked as he watched your eyes widen, “You won’t get pregnant in just one round.”

“Wait..wait.. Malleus let me breathe—!”

He ignored you again and sheathed himself back inside your vagina. “Mngh!”

“I’m s-still...sensitive!” You felt your clit pulsate, feeling like you want to cum again.

He moved again, just as relentless as the first round. With this position, he bit you, squeezed your breasts, kissed you, anything he could do to send you into overdrive, he did. Malleus did not let you rest. Hours and hours he bred you. At times where he’s calm, he would bring you a glass of water. Then it would proceed to another set of sex. Again, it was just and still day one. You have four more days before he’s completely satisfied.

When you started, the sun was up high, but now it was the moon that peeked through your window. It was finally the sign that Malleus was content for the night as he laid in bed in a heap of breath and sweat. You felt like passing out as you stared up at the ceiling. Your cunt was really full of his semen. “Are…” you whined, “...you done?”

“For now,” he smiled and pulled you into his arms. “We still have four more days.”

He kissed your nape as he kept you tight in his arms. You whined more, shifting your legs to make you comfortable. “I already feel pregnant…”

“Just think of Faye’s happiness once we give her a little sibling. I’m sure she’ll be delighted.”

You tiredly smiled, intertwining your fingers against Malleus’ larger hand on your stomach. Two little kids will be running around the castle soon. A happy Lilia Vanrouge would be spoiling the younger one. Sebek and Silver would have one of each Draconia child to look after. And… probably another one to come after that if Malleus would ever come to heat again in the future years.

That is what welcomed you as Mrs. Draconia.

© jangmi-latte, all rights reserved. Happy to Serve!

[moemoemammon]

(Two things, 1. This is my first time requesting so I'm sorry if this is not the thing to do it, and 2. Sorry if somethings is misspelled or grammatically incorrect, eng is not my first language:p)

May I request some of the bros, specially Mammon, Luci and Satan, with a MC who's similar to Lucifer in some aspects (like, some of their manners are the same as his and sometimes they're little bit too strict) and after a while they discover that its bc MC is also an older sibling. And (only if you want) meeting their younger sibling, please 🙏

Btw love your works ♡♡♡

Lucifer Number 2~

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

It doesn't occur to Lucifer how similar the two of you are, but the first thing he realizes is how pleasant conversations with you can be. You both share common interests, your tastes suit his own, and you seem to be the only competent person in this house.

You're the responsible type, and he likes it. He'll sometimes find you scolding his brothers for their behavior too, and as amusing of a sight as that may be, he doesn't want you to be burdened with their idiocy.

AND you're the eldest sibling in your household? Cheers to that. You too know the weight of being the responsible oldest, and the role one must take to ensure their siblings grow up well. You too know that you'd rather your siblings have things easier than you did.

But there's one thing he finds annoying... You can NEVER speak your feelings, and act as if it’d kill you to do so. He can respect secrecy when it's appropriate, but Lucifer would like to know what's on your mind. Not only that, but you can be HORRIBLY headstrong. There's nothing that can stray you away from what you've already decided.

"MC, I request that you take a few days off from school to do as you please. I've already spoken with Diavolo and your professors, and you've been given an excuse. I know you'll study anyway, so I've dropped off your assignments in your room. But... you should rest. It isn't good for you to be pushing yourself so hard. Hm? You're calling me a hypocrite?"

Mammon

As if one Lucifer wasn't enough. Now there's TWO of em?! Why's his luck gotta be so lousy!

Definitely the first to realize how much like Lucifer you are, and was SHOOK. Seriously, what gives?! What horrors exist in the human world that could've made you like THAT..?

Ever since you showed up, it's been impossible to get away with anything! He can't sneak out of the house because you're always there somehow, you tattle on him when you catch him leaving anyone's room, and you won't even let him copy your homework! What gives?!

Avoids you like the plague. You're no fun! There's only rare moments when you're kinda okay, and he likes those the best. The times when you're kinda sensitive and you'll drop the high and mighty act. But then you're back to being a pest!

"For the billionth time, I ain't got time to study! There's money to be made, and a guy like me ain't gonna waste a second lookin' at a dumb book when I could be- H-Huh?! You're gonna call Lucifer?! N-now, there's no need to be so hasty, right? Oi!! I'm sorry, damn it-!"

Levi

What's the deal with Lucifer number two? As comedic of a trope as that may be, Levi doesn't really care for having two nagging types in the house. Especially a human...

When you're in his room, all you do is nitpick about how he should tidy up and open a window! Don't you know that an otaku's room is his pride and joy?! It's a sacred space not to be trampled on by the opinions of a normie!!!

But still... he has to admit that even if you don't get all the stuff he's talking about, you at least try to understand it. And there are even some of his interests that you're genuinely invested in!

You might be a pain in the neck and harass him about annoying things, but he guesses he can deal with it if you'll actually sit through a TSL marathon with him...

"I-I'll lend you this manga, so make sure you read it! And when you're finished with that, I'll lend you the spin-off series by the author's brother! I know you'll like it, since you're interested in gritty stuff. Oh, and- Huh? My laundry? Y-yeah.... I'll do that.."

Satan

You are... surprisingly good company. Satan enjoys talking to you over afternoon tea, and the two of you share stories between one another.

But still, he can't shake the feeling that there's something... unpleasantly familiar about your personality. It isn't until you say something that sounds suspiciously similar to what Lucifer would say that he realizes who you remind him of. And oh, he hates it.

Tries playing pranks on you, but somehow they never go to plan. How that is is beyond him, but you never fall for anything! No matter how sweet his smile, you're always rightfully suspicious. You're annoyingly meticulous about checking your surroundings, and you're so aware of yourself that it's troublesome! Be more gullible!!

The king of petty has decided that its now his life goal to make you fall for at least one of his pranks. He doesn't care how elaborate he has to make it, or how unrewarding the payoff may be. He'll make you pay for seeing his brother in two places at once.

"MC, would you like to join me this afternoon for a book reading? Though, I'd love it if you could read this book in particular. I think you'll find it very-.... Hm? 'Isn't this the cursed book that makes you grow hair all over your body', you ask? Ahaha.... tch."

Asmo

Come now, there can't be TWO killjoys in the house! That's way too depressing!! It was funny at first to see that there's someone who can match the scary Lucifer's energy, but now it's becoming a nuisance!

You won't even go to the countless parties he's invited you to! Hell, you barely even give yourself room to mess around a little? Isn't it boring being so tightly wound? You're in luck, because the adorable Asmo-chan knows the PERFECT way to let loose~

You'll RARELY let him close to you, and that's usually when you're tired of him harassing you. Then he gets the honor of playing with your hair while you've got no energy to fight back! He'll style it wonderfully for you!

Also nags you to take better care of yourself. You're not a demon, so you have to care for your health! These late night study sessions are giving you bags under your eyes! And stop taking on so many extracurricular activities!

"Geez, MC! I didn't think you'd die from overworking, but that's the path you're headed on! You really are like Lucifer, you know? That being said, I'll do my best to make sure you relax! Shall we begin~?"

Beel

Beel may not be too bothered by Lucifer's strictness, but that doesn't mean he's immune to it. To think that even a human can be like that...

It's nice to see that you can take care of yourself, but aren't you working too hard? Your grades are good and you've got many interesting talents, but you also have to properly rest.

Has started bringing you snacks on the regular. And don't even think about skipping meals, because he won't allow it. He'll literally pick you up and bring you to the table if he has to. And if you're staying up late to study? He'll carry you to bed. Don't try to protest.

Beel is your babysitter now and there's nothing you can do about it. It's good to be responsible, but don't think about trying to take care of everyone else if you can't care for yourself. Now eat these twelve meat buns he bought for you.

"MC, let's eat lunch together. I know you were going to skip because I heard you talking to Solomon earlier, and I won't let you. Ah, don't worry about not having money, because I've already bought you some lunch. Let's eat in the courtyard."

Belphie

NO.... IT CAN'T BE... THIS HAS TO BE A NIGHTMARE....HE WANTS TO WAKE UP....

You're such a drag. You harass him to attend student council meetings, but him about his studies, and won't let him avoid a single obligation he has. What are you, his mother?

Has 100% joined forces with Satan to try to make you fall for many, many unsuccessful pranks. Are you curse proof or something? When he tried a '10 hour bed-head' spell on you, it just rebounded right to him! Then he found out that you'd borrowed a spell repelling amulet from Solomon and realized just how prepared you are...

When you aren't bothering his entire soul by trying to make him do things, you're actually nice to talk to. You're knowledgeable, you pay attention to the people around you, and you can always read a room. He likes to ask you for advice sometimes.

"Aren't you tired of being like that all the time? So... attentive, I mean. You should just take a nap some time. Or better yet, take the week off. Maybe I'll teach you how to properly relax? Then you might finally be able to take that stick out of your- ow... What're you hitting me for?"

[ameliora-j]

sure // rw x reader

words: 1.8k

warnings: smut, overstimulation kinda, finger sucking, size kink if you squint, daddy kink, subspace but not focused, sort of enemies to lovers

a/n: i hate the ending to this i’m not gonna lie but aye first smut

you didn’t really know much. you learned a lot, but you never truly retained the information. after tests and exams, knowledge went just as quickly as it came. however, one thing that you did know. one thing that you were absolutely sure of was that you absolutely despised ron weasley. and nothing in the world could ever change that. you can admit, you did used to have a crush on the redhead... before you found out his true personality of arrogant asshole.

the two of you were in the same friend group, but don’t be mistaken... he was absolutely not your friend. you would first die before ever calling the selfish, pompous, arrogant git your friend. he was so full of himself. you didn’t understand how harry and hermione could be friends with someone like that.

harry and hermione were tired of the two of you constantly bickering and ignoring your—quite obvious, according to them—feelings for each other. and you guess that’s how you wound up in this situation. harry and hermione had taken both you and ron’s wands and locked you in the room of requirement with the threat: “if you two don’t speak to each other and become friends we won’t ever let you out.”

at least they made the room cozy. it was everything you needed, a small room with a bed in the center, and a desk against one of the walls. it was also accompanied with a small en-suite bathroom and water and snacks. you were happily reading in your dorm alone before hermione dragged you here, saying that it was an issue that needed immediate attention.

you had probably been here for about an hour with the redhead, sitting silently and not even looking at each other. finally, you were bored of counting seconds, so you retreated to the desk and opened your book and continued reading where you had left off, still ignoring the tall, muscular redhead laying on the bed.

it was going very well untill you began to see small paper butterflies landing on the desk in front of you. you contained your smile as you watched yet another charmed paper butterfly fly across the room and land in front of you. this caused you to close your book and spin around to face him as you set it on the desk. “did y’need something, weasley?” you asked him.

“they won’t let us out of here unless we talk. and i need to study our playbook for the next quidditch game,” he told you. you hummed softly before turning back around and opening the book again.

“i don’t have anything to say to you. you hate me, you don’t want to be my friend, and i’m okay with never speaking to you again,” you spoke, matter-of-factly as you began reading again.

you heard a deep sigh before ron’s footsteps began coming closer to you. you felt his presence behind you and he put his hand on your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. your face heat up as you swallowed thickly and bit your lip nervously. “we both know that’s not true now, is it, princess?” he smirked devilishly.

you don’t know what it was, but something in his eyes made you want to listen to his every word. do whatever he told you to. submit. you nervously shook your head as you struggled to remember exactly how to breathe. he hummed again, keeping his grip on my jaw as he stared down at me. “tell me, princess. how do you really feel?” he raised an eyebrow.

“nervous,” you croaked.

“nervous?” he hummed. “why nervous?”

“you,” you breathed out.

“i make you nervous?” he found great pleasure in this information as he smirked down at you. you nodded again and he removed his grip from you, moving to sit on the desk in front of you. “c’mere,” he beckoned, reaching his hand out.

you nervously took his hand and moved so i was standing in between his legs. his hands moved your hair away from your neck before landing on your hips and tugging you closer to him. you sucked in a gasp as your senses became engulfed with him. “y’very pretty,” he murmured into your ear before placing a soft kiss behind it. “thank you,” you stuttered as you searched for air.

“‘m gonna kiss you now,” he spoke and you nodded your consent. he tangled his hands in your hair and pulled you impossibly closer as he pressed your lips to his. it was already very clear that he was the one in charge, the kiss just solidified that as his tongue licked inside of your mouth and you mewled against his lips. he stood from the desk and lead you backwards to the bed, pushing you gently down on it and crawling over you.

“‘s this your first?” he asked, and you shook your head nervously. “good. cus ‘m not gonna be gentle,” he smirked as he began to leave kisses down your neck. you tugged gently on his shirt, causing him to sit up and pull it off. the two of you undressed each other as you continued making out.

once ron had your pants off, he began kissing down your body. you whimpered and squirmed slightly as he got down to your thighs. “please,” you whimpered breathlessly. he smirked as he pulled off your panties and left a kiss on your clit. you moaned softly, tangling your hands in his hair as he licked up your slit.

“so wet f’me,” he commented as he circled your entrance with his middle finger. “please, want it,” you whined, bucking your hips into him. he shushed you, pushing your hips back down to the mattress as he finally gave you what you want, pushing his middle fingers into you. you moaned as he curled them and quickly found that special spot.

“fuck,” you whimpered as his thumb came up to rub at your clit. “so good,” you whined as he began moving his fingers faster. you whimpered as his free hand reached up to play with your nipple, rolling the rapidly hardening bud between his fingers.

“you gonna cum?” he asked and you nodded, whimpering out a small “please,” making him smirk at how quickly he got you to submit to him.

“go head, princess,” those three words were all you needed. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as stars danced across your vision and your legs shook as you fell into ecstasy. his fingers fucked you through it and his thumb never stopped it’s circles on your clit, even as you came down.

“please, please, please,” you whimpered as you tried to squirm away from it. “one more for me, princess,” ron hummed. you whined softly as you gripped his wrist, letting out small gasps and whimpers as he practically tickled a second orgasm from your already tired body.

“good girl,” he praised as he fucked you through the second release, only pulling away when you whimpered and squirmed away. “open,” he instructed as he brought his fingers up to rest on your bottom lip. you followed his instruction, lolling out your tongue as he pushed his fingers into your mouth, making you clean them off. “y’ready to take me, princess?” he asked.

you nodded with a small whimper of “please.” he ran his tip up your slit, collecting your slick on him before slowly pushing his cock into you, making you moan at the stretch. ron wasn’t your first, but he was definitely the biggest. you were sure he knew that as you saw him smirking down at you as he kept pushing it in. “is that all?” you whimpered after a while.

“almost princess, halfway there,” he whispered as he leaned down and kissed you softly. you whined softly as he pushed in even further, bottoming out as he hit your cervix. you moaned loudly as you arched into him, begging him to move.

he obliged, setting a quick pace as his arm wrapped around your leg, setting it over his shoulder for a better angle. “fuck. so tight,” he grunted in your ear as he rutted into you. you couldn’t contain your moans as the head of his cock repeatedly hit your spot inside of you, making you beg for more.

“daddy,” you shrieked as he moved your other leg over his shoulder, making his cock go that much deeper.

“oh fuck say it again pretty girl,” he moaned as his thumb found your clit, rubbing in time with his thrust.

“daddy please,” you whimpered as you took his free hand and moved it to rest on your throat. he raised an eyebrow as he smirked down at you. “such a dirty little girl,” he hummed as he squeezed gently.

you moaned louder as you arched further into him, whimpering and begging. “shh. take it,” he hummed as he abused your cervix with his cock.

“wanna cum please,” you whined softly as you felt your lower abdomen clench. “please please please,” you whimpered repeatedly as he continued his assault on your cunt.

“hold it,” he demanded. however, he didn’t let up, causing you to whine loudly as you thrashed about the bed, trying not to release the pleasure ron was currently giving your body. “cum with me princess, now,” he hummed.

the third orgasm hit you even harder than the first two. it was unending as ron continued to fuck you through it, every drag of his cock against your walls intensifying it twofold as you cried his name over and over, feeling his hot cum spurt inside of you. you whimpered softly as you came down, looking up at him doe-eyed. “you okay, pretty girl?” he asked softly.

“thank you daddy,” you hummed softly, ignoring his question. he smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to your lips as he slowly pulled out. you mewled at the ache in your lower body and hissed as you felt the sheets drag against your swollen, sensitive clit.

“just gonna clean you up, yeah? then we can nap,” he spoke gently as he carried you into the bathroom. he sat you on the toilet, making you go so that you didn’t get a uti before he ran a bath for you. he got in behind you as he gently washed you off, careful of all your sensitive areas as he hummed gently to you, bringing you back down to earth.

“ron?” you asked gently as he wrapped you in a big, fluffy towel. he hummed in acknowledgment and you looked up at him. “what does this make us?” you asked shyly.

“how bout i take you on a date first. and then we’ll decide that. deal princess?” he asked as he lead you back into the room and began to change you.

“okay,” you hummed. he smiled as he pulled on a pair of boxers and got into bed with you, pulling you into his chest.

you didn’t really know much. however, if there was one thing that you were absolutely sure of.. it’s that... maybe you didn’t despise ron weasley.

[moonlit-reveriee]

can i request a part 2 to baby blue 😭 it was so good

Baby Blue pt. 2

technoblade x fem!reader

you can read part 1 here (technically not required? but i think it helps give context to the story)

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, super soft sex, awkward but romantic, fingering, thigh fucking, reader is afab & uses she/her pronouns

listen to this while you read: Electric Feel (cover) by Henry Green

───※ ·❆· ※───

It wasn’t until he carried you up to the bedroom and set you down on the bed that Techno realized maybe he wasn’t ready for this at all. The heat of the moment and the feel of your skin on his again made him distracted. Now he was overthinking again, and he was once again paralyzed by the thought of taking your virginity. Though this time, for a different reason. Before, he was scared of stealing something away from you. Now, he was afraid of falling short of what you deserve.

“Techno”, your soft voice drew him out of his thoughts once again. He looked down at where you sat on the bed, gently patting the spot next to you.

He sat himself down on the bed, maybe putting a little too much space between the two of you. You placed a hand on his thigh, trying to gently coax him into a more relaxed state.

“You seem less nervous than I am somehow”, he chuckled dryly. You continued to slowly massage the spot on his thigh, an innocent action despite the context of the situation.

“I think I’m more nervous than I realize”, you responded truthfully. He turned his head to look at you, watching your expression carefully.

“There’s firsts for both of us here, you know”, he said, “I’ve never... been somebody’s first. I don’t know how you like it, but you might not even know that either. In those moments, we’ll learn together.”

He brought a hand down to rest on top of yours. “Like all things we do, we’ll do it together, right?”

You smiled. “Yes, of course.”

Techno felt his heart skip a beat. There were many little things about you that made him fall in love every single day. One of those being your smile. When he saw you smiling because of him, whether it be due to a joke or some sappy romantic comment, it made his head soar. If you were smiling, he knew he was doing something right.

“Where would you like to start?”, he spoke softly.

“Well... let’s start by taking this thing off of you”, you turned your body to face him, moving into a kneeling position on the bed and unclasping his cape from around his shoulders. He watched your fingers smoothly unhook the golden clasp and allowed the dark red fabric to fall into a heap on the floor.

His gaze returned to yours, and the expression on his face was almost too much to handle.

“Kiss me please”, there was barely even a pause between your words before he obliged. His pace was slow, setting a gentle beat that almost matched the beat of your heart. You had pulled yourself into his lap without realizing it, arms wrapping around his shoulders and massaging gently down his back.

“You set the pace, darling”, he mumbled between kisses, “just tell me what you want...”

“Just- keep kissing me for now...”, you said between heavy breaths, locking your lips against his once again. His hands moved down to support your waist while yours began to slowly play with his chest. You gripped the loose and soft fabric of his shirt. Partially your shirt, since you recognized it as one of the ones you frequently wore to bed.

“I- don’t really know what I’m doing”, you whispered into the air. You watched his expression shift, his face only an inch from yours, as he pondered your words.

“How about this...”, he suggested with a reassuring tone, “I’ll take the lead for now... but you call the shots, okay? You tell me if I do anything you don’t like. I want you to be as comfortable as possible... got that?”

“Okay...”, you sighed, “I trust you, Techno.”

He kissed you for that one. All passion and no coordination.

“Do you want my shirt off first?”, he asked gently, leaning back just enough to fully look at your face.

You nodded, letting him stand up and pull the linen fabric over his head and toss it onto the floor next to his cape. Sure, you had seen him shirtless before, but somehow the sight was even more pleasant now. The way the pink skin of his abdomen dipped into the high-waisted line of his pants was ungodly attractive. He couldn’t help but smile at the way you stared at him.

He returned to the bed, moving your body so that you were propped up into a half-sitting position against the pillows. He situated himself so he could lean over you, placing his knees on either side of your hips in the process.

“Is this okay?”, he asked, hovering above your body. Caught up in the moment, and almost in awe of the way he looked staring down at you, a nod was the only response you could give. You felt the rough skin of his fingers gently grab your chin.

“I’d prefer if you used your words, darling”, he said in a tone that was somewhere between sultry and lighthearted teasing. You swallowed and replied in a voice that was much shakier than you expected.

“This is really nice.” He chuckled at the way your voice shook, causing you to laugh with him. Slowly he seated himself, and was now fully straddled on top of your thighs. You gasped at the feeling, heavy but not uncomfortably so. It was almost soothing to feel the weight of him on top of you.

“Can I touch your body? Just over your clothes for now...”, he asked, hands hovering over your sides. You nodded out of habit, but quickly corrected yourself.

“Yes, please.”

He slowly ran his hands up and down your clothed torso, dragging his fingers up your sides and ghosting them over your chest. After getting you comfortable with the sensation, he tentatively played with the hem of your shirt, allowing his fingers to occasionally brush against your exposed skin.

“Are you ready for your shirt off?”, he asked, “you can keep it on if you want.”

“No”, you said after considering it for a moment, “I want it off.” He nodded, noting the way your nervousness picked up slightly.

“Lift your arms up for me, baby.” He gently coaxed your arms upward and lifted the shirt up over your head, tossing it aside. Leaning back on his knees, he made no move to touch you again.

“What are you doing?”, you asked, watching him stare from where he had moved away from you.

“Admiring you”, he whispered, eyes trailing down your body in a way that made you blush.

“Oh, come on now”, you groaned after he spent a good ten seconds just silently staring at you.

“What?”, he questioned teasingly, “how am I not supposed to stare at a goddess?”

You scoffed, but the deepening blush on your face betrayed you. He chuckled softly to himself, thoroughly enjoying this whole experience. The hand on your side slowly slid upward, hesitantly cupping your breast in his palm. You inhaled sharply at the touch, shocked by the warm feeling of his hands against your skin.

He tilted his head down to press his lips to your neck. The contrast between hard tusks and soft lips tracing the curve of your neck was enough to make you moan out suddenly. Your face flushed, more out of shock than embarrassment. Techno’s lips left your skin, leaving a cold spot where the wetness from his mouth began to evaporate.

“I liked that sound”, he purred in your ear. Unconsciously, your body began to tilt upwards, seeking out more friction.

“Mhm- god babe, wait“, Techno gasped, suddenly grabbing your hips to halt your movements.

“Should I not have done that?”, you asked worriedly.

“No, no, it’s feels good, I just- “, he paused to take a deep breath, turning his gaze to meet yours, “if you keep doing that, things might start moving a bit faster...”

There was a moment of silence. The only thing you could hear was the sound of each other’s breathing. In a sudden burst of confidence, and maybe a little mischief, you allowed your body to slowly grind up into him again.

“Ah, fuck”, he groaned, his breath becoming heavier, “... you’re going to be the death of me.”

His lips crashed over yours again. He was more fervent and desperate with his movements. You felt the tips of his fingers ghosting over the hemline of your shorts.

“Can I touch you here?”, his voice trembled with desire, but still halting his movements until he heard your answer. You swallowed, feeling equal parts anxiety and arousal.

“Give me a moment”, you trembled, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm your nerves. You took a few seconds to collect yourself, then gave him the go ahead to continue.

He pulled your shorts and underwear off in one swift motion. Those were discarded on the floor with the rest of your clothing. He brought his hand up, hovering it between your gently parted legs. Swiftly, he dipped his fingers downward, giving a gentle and experimental touch.

“You’re wet for me”, he murmured, his pace slowing considerably as he took his time to appreciate you. With caution, he rhythmically pushed his hand against you with gentle motions. You continued to gasp at his movements, feeling the anxiety melt away from your body.

He placed a kiss on the corner of your mouth, and sighed, “you’re so good for me.”

You moaned at his words alone and smiled. When you opened your eyes to look up at him, he felt his heart swell.

“Are you crying?”, you asked, noticing the way his eyes had begun to glisten.

“No”, he denied unconvincingly. The smile never leaving his face. You lifted a hand to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb across the weathered skin. He turned his head to kiss your palm and began gently massaging between your legs, enjoying the way you sighed happily at his actions.

“Hey, Techno?”, you asked after a few blissful minutes of silence. He hummed, the tender expression never leaving your sight.

“Can you... put a finger in me?”, the sentence was punctuated with a soft moan as the palm of his hand pressed into your clit. He placed a kiss on your temple.

“Of course”, he whispered, adjusting the position of his arm. He placed his finger right up against your entrance, pausing to check in on you. You were nervous, he could easily tell. But it was also clear that you were excited and that you wanted this.

He began pushing inward, watching as your mouth fell open and eyes screwed shut.

“T- techno”, your voice shuttered.

“Shh shhh, it’s okay”, he hushed, stopping his finger midway through and trying to keep your muscles from tightening too much, “I’m not gonna go any further yet, just breath.”

You did, inhaling and exhaling as some of the tension left your body. He sat there patiently and allowed you to adjust.

“That wasn’t painful, was it?”, he asked. You shook your head.

“No, just... not used to it I think.” He nodded in understanding.

“It might feel weird at first. It’ll feel worse if your muscles are too tense. That’s why I need you to relax for me darling, alright?”

His voice reassuring you was like the warmth of a fireplace. As your body relaxed around him, he slid his finger deeper until he was settled all the way inside of you. Once you realized his finger fully inside, your head feel dizzy. The feeling of being stretched out by him for the first time was indescribable.

He made experimental movements with his finger, asking you what felt good and adjusting based on your answers. Each time his finger pushed into you, a moan, sigh, or gasp would escape from your lips. Eventually, you worked up to taking a second finger. From there, Techno began thrusting with his fingers. With each motion, he allow his thrusts to become steadily deeper.

You called out his name as pumped his fingers inside of you. It was the only thing you could think to say. When the call of his name faded and you could only moan inbetween shuddered breaths, he swallowed the noise between his lips. The muffled whine of your voice against his mouth sent shivers down his spine. You parted, but your mouth’s stayed in each other’s space. Breathing each other’s air.

“T- tehc-“, your voice was drawn tight, almost pained, “I think, I’m gonna-“

The words were cut off, but he could fill in the blanks.

“You’re gonna cum for me.” He wasn’t sure if he was informing you of what was going to happen, or commanding you to do so. Regardless, he continued at the same pace, only adjusting the thrust of his fingers to be every so slightly harder.

You leaned into his movements. With one final push, he felt you clench around him as your body reached its climax. You shouted; his name, a moan, you couldn’t tell. All you felt were the waves of pleasure rolling through you. Nothing you’d felt before could compare to it. You could hear Techno’s voice talking to you, but it sounded almost far away.

“- you alright, darling?”, you heard him say, finally able to make out the words as your mind became clearer. You nodded vaguely, gasping for air as you came down from your high. He was at your side the whole time, making sure you were okay through the entire aftermath.

“I’m gonna take my fingers out, okay?” He said once he knew you were ready for it. You let him slip out of you, feeling strangely empty at the absence of his fingers.

He sat up on his knees and brought his hand up to his mouth, sucking the remaining wetness off his fingers. You swear you could feel your pupils dilate as you watched them pull away from his mouth with a resounding pop.

“That was oddly attractive”, you blurted out in a trance. He chuckled heartily, the kind that made his chest rumble like a calming thunderstorm. Moving to sit next to you, he leaned over to run his clean fingers gently through your hair.

“How do you feel?”, he asked in a voice that was impossibly soft.

“... I feel warm”, you said with a smile, “my brain is hazy, but in a good way.”

He grinned, bearing his teeth and crinkling the skin around his eyes. His lips came down on yours, pressing each other’s smiles together. When you parted, a satisfied sigh fell from between his lips.

“Alright”, he shifted his position to lay down next to you, “let me cuddle you for the rest of the night.”

“What about you?”, you asked as he buried is face in your neck.

“What about me?”, he hummed, eyes closed peacefully.

“Don’t you want to cum too?”

He froze for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Well, sure. I wouldn’t mind it. But this was more about you than me, right? As long as it was good for you, I’m satisfied.”

You gently traced his arm from where it was draped across your chest. With careful movements, you ghosted your fingers down his body until they rested next to the fabric bunched around his half-hard cock. You felt him breath deeply against your neck.

“What are you thinking about, babygirl?”, his voice had deepened, the threat of his own arousal thick on his tongue.

“I-“, your voice faltered, but the hand tracing the outline in his pants remained steady, “I don’t know if I’m ready to have you in me yet... but can I fuck you? Maybe with my thighs?”

His heart clenched in a strange way that was part arousal, part undying love and affection. He gathered you up in his arms, pulling you up with him into a seated position.

“You want me to fuck your thighs while you sit in my lap?”, he said with a soft and playful smirk. You whined, shameless of your desire but still not wanting to verbally admit it.

“I want you to feel special too.” You placed a hand on his jaw and lightly bucked your hips into his. He let out a shaky breath.

“You’re gonna need to let me take my pants off first.”

Impulsively, you reached down and began undoing the dark black silk he wore as a belt. He looked down at you in a surprised daze and watched as you pulled the hem of his pants below his hips.

“Woah”, you blurted out once he was exposed to you. You slapped a hand over your mouth once you realized what you said, “sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just haven’t-“

“No, I get it”, he interrupted your flustered apology, “it’s kinda big...” His voice trailed off awkwardly, the blood rising to his cheeks as he watched you take sight of him for the first time.

“It’s nice...”, you mumbled quietly. Peering up at him, the two of you held silent eye contact for a few seconds. Techno lifted a hand to cover his mouth, a quiet laugh escaping from between his fingers. Seeing him practically giggling, your composure broke and you began to laugh with him.

“That was kind of a dumb compliment, wasn’t it?”, you chuckled.

“Maybe a little bit”, he grinned, shaking off the last of his laughter, “I still appreciate it, for what it’s worth.”

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss into his jaw. He took it happily, wrapping you up in a quick hug before standing up and pulling his pants the rest of the way down.

“Alright, let’s get back to it.” He rummaged through his bedside drawer, pulling out a small towel, and a glass bottle filled with what appeared to be some kind of lubricant.

“How did you get that?”, you asked, genuinely curious.

“You mix slime with water and reduce it down using a brewing stand. Phil taught me how to do it.”

“Phil?”

“Don’t think about it too much.”

Returning to the bed, he sat with his chest upright and let you situate yourself on top of him. He began rubbing the liquid onto your inner thighs. It was thick and cold, making you shiver as it touched your skin.

“You still good with this?”, he asked, voice breathless and his cock sitting hard between your legs. You nodded, placing your arms around his shoulders for support.

“Okay”, he pressed a quick kiss on your forehead, “close your legs around me, slowly and gently.”

You took his instructions perfectly, gingerly bringing your thighs together. When the skin of your thighs pressed into him, taking shape around his hard cock, he gasped. You’d never heard him make a sound like that before. His head fell forward, forehead coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Are you alright?”, you asked, your hands coming up to rest on his back.

“You feel so good on my cock”, he choked. His hips were already grinding up into you instinctively, continuing to make his breath come out shaky. You began to follow his movements, letting him slide up and down between your legs.

He moaned beautifully. You could feel his hot breath come out in puffs against your skin. The two of you set an unspoken rhythm together. You moved your body up and down, listening to the way he shuttered with every downward movement.

“Baby”, he groaned, drawing out the syllables of the word, “can you go a little faster please? Just a little...”

You obliged him, of course you did. How could you say no when he sounded like this? As the pace of your movements increased, so did the sounds he made. Moans fell from between his lips at a faster and uneven tempo. He lifted his head to bury his nose in your hair, trying to consume you with as many of his senses as possible.

Suddenly, his body tensed. He made a sobbing sound that got caught in his throat halfway through. The hand that wasn’t holding onto you reached over to grab the towel he had set aside earlier. He wrapped it around the head of his cock right as his orgasm began to rip through him. He gasped and shuddered in your arms, riding out the waves of his pleasure.

Once his body went slack and his breathing calmed, you started moving to get off of him.

“Ah- no, wait”, he pleaded, grabbing your shoulders to keep you from leaving. There was sweat on his brow, and you looked down to see his cock still hard underneath the towel.

“Are you still-?”, you asked with wide eyes. He nodded, biting his lip.

“It takes a while”, his breath was still coming out shaky, “I probably should have mentioned that earlier.” He attempted to laugh, but it came out as more of an exaggerated exhale.

“What do you want me to do for you?”, you asked as his face screwed up at the stimulation.

“Just, don’t move your lower body. At all”, he breathed.

“Can I stroke your hair?”, you questioned, wanting to feel useful somehow.

“That would be nice, actually.”

You carefully lifted your arms and began gently combing your fingers through his hair. He leaned into your touch, enjoying the tender feeling while his orgasm slowly tapered off.

Once you were able to, the two of you untangled yourselves from each other. He helped you clean up, tossing your soiled laundry in a basket to be taken care of later.

Be beckoned you back to the bed, wrapping you up in his arms and draping the covers across both of your bodies. You curled into his side, tucking your head into the crook of his shoulder. He stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head until you drifted off to sleep.

With you now asleep in his arms, he was left alone with the voices, who had been surprisingly considerate and quiet during that whole experience.

“she’s fucking gorgeous” “i knew she’d look beautiful when she moans” “the way she looked up from underneath you... fucks sake we need to do that again” “do it again soon” “please fuck her more often” “everyday” “multiple times a day”

“Alright guys, calm down”, he muttered. He’d allow the voices to go a little wild in privacy if it meant they’d keep quiet during the actual sex.

“you’ll go a bit harder next time, won’t you?” “please, make her scream for you” “i bet she’d like it” “she’ll be able to handle it” “i bet she’s secretly kinky” “ooh yeah” “she’ll like anything you do to her”

“Only if she wants to... when she’s ready...”, he mumbled, already half asleep.

───※ ·❆· ※───

i hope the wait was worth it! i struggle with writing intimate scenes sometimes, so there’s always a lot of back and forth

i have a concept in my head for what a part 3 of this series would look like, but i want to get through all of my other requests before i decide to go through with it or not. i love writing baby blue, but it always takes me a while 😅

thank you all for your patience! i hope you enjoyed <3

-moonlight

[hanniiesuckle17]

Ateez Reaction: Their Kid Gets Sick in the Middle of The Night

A/n: I love parent!ateez. Anything domestic im just like *heart eyes* also dont mind my weird petnames for kids. i just....i love kids......*sigh* anywayyyyyy hope you guys enjoy! im going to be writing for ateez and the other groups on my m.list alot more 

S/n: Son’s name      D/n: Daughter’s name

Pairing: Reader x OT8 

Genre: fluff, slight angst, parent!au

Warnings: cussing?, descriptions of sick children (colds and flus, etc), fem reader

WC: 5k (overall)  about 640-ish on average

Tag List: @woodiegochile @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @jeonqqin @geminirules @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @kodzu-ken @konenichi @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @orangegyu @little-precious-baby @yourdaddychan​  

Hongjoong:

You were in the perfect spot. A dreamless sleep had taken over your mind a few hours ago and you were perfect content pressed up against Hongjoong’s chest, his arms wrapped around your middle. His leg was tossed over yours and you were swaddled in a perfect cocoon of his warmth.

The blissful sleep of you and your husband was soon interrupted by a weak poke to your cheek. A second light jab forced your eyes open. In the dark room you could barely make out the shape of your three-year-old son. Lifting your head up, you checked the time- 1:04- and then over to your husband who was still fast asleep. 

Pulling away from your husband’s hold, you turned on the bedside light only to be met with the tearstained face of S/n. “Oh- Goose! What’s wrong?” Your son only cried more and reached out for you. Completely sitting up in bed, you pulled him into your arms- gently stroking his hair. You noticed the back of his neck was cold with sweat. 

“Baby? Everything okay?” Hongjoong mumbled, pushing himself off the mattress slightly. 

“Daddy.....don’t feel good,” Your toddler said between cries. You continued to tenderly rub his back in hopes of calming your son. “Head....” S/n mumbled, tiny hands pawing at his crown. 

Hongjoong now joined you fully sitting up. His dark eyes blinked rapidly trying to push away the edges of sleep still clouding his brain. Your husband motioned for you to pass over his son and you obliged. S/n cuddled up in his father’s lap - clawing at his shirt. “Baby, could you get the thermometer from the bathroom?” He asked, hand on his son’s little forehead. 

Your mind was still foggy, but nonetheless, you got up and half jogged to the bathroom. Still tired, you fumbled through the cabinets looking for the thermometer. After a few minutes you returned, the instrument in hand. Hongjoong took it, thanking you softly. The two of you waited while the thermometer read your child’s temperature. S/n’s head was resting deliriously on your husband’s shoulder.

When Hongjoong took out the thermometer, your S/n groaned, nuzzling further into his dad’s chest. “Tummy hurts, daddy...” You almost felt hurt yourself, not being able to help your son’s pain. Reaching out you rubbed his back and looked to your lover for what to do. 

A tired look rested on his face. The singer sighed looking down at the tiny instrument. “103.1,” Running a hand through your hair, you got up from the bed and grabbed a jacket for yourself and your son. “Hey, buddy. We’re going to take a little trip okay?” Hongjoong whispered to his son who was still crying from his head and stomachache. 

“The doctor is going to make you feel all better, Goose.” You sleepily sang, more comforting yourself than S/n.  The handsome man got up from your shared bed, still carrying your sick toddler, and headed into the living room with you quickly following. 

“Let’s go to the hospital. Y/n where are my keys?” Hongjoong, laced his fingers with yours after you grabbed his keys and the three of you ventured down to the car. “ The one on Ddobong St is closest right?” 

Seonghwa:

The cries of your baby girl woke you from a night of sweet sleep. Untangling yourself from your husband’s slumbering arms you rolled out of bed. With a sluggish gait, you walked into the nursery and hummed to your screaming daughter.

“Shhhh, baby- Daddy is sleeping,” You whispered, picking her up from the crib.

Any sleep your partner got was worth more than anything else you could give him. The sooner you could calm your daughter the more likely he stayed asleep. the one-year-old girl in your arms continued to cry, almost screaming in your ear. 

You stroked her hair in hopes of calming the distressed child. The skin of her forehead felt hot against your palm and you pressed it fully against her forehead. “Oh- I’m sorry, love!” Scolding your tired mind for not realizing sooner, you carried your crying daughter into the bathroom to grab a thermometer. 

Laying D/n back down in the crib, you lifted her nightgown and tucked the instrument under her arm, and waited for it to beep. The baby girl’s cries had quieted a little but remained constant and unrelenting. Finding she had a temperature you rushed to the medicine cabinet. All the bottles and labels blurred together in your sleepy vision. 

Finding one that fit D/n’s symptoms you grabbed a spoon and the bottle. You poured the dark purple colored liquid onto the spoon and tried to coax your daughter into opening her mouth to take the medicine. Instead, the baby girl cried louder, the smell of the medicine floating down into her tiny nostrils. “D/n, baby....please take the medicine! Don’t wake up daddy.” You pleaded in a hushed tone. 

“Don’t worry about waking me up.” A smooth, but sleepy voice said from the hallway. 

Seonghwa shuffled into the room, eyes tired but soft and hair fluffy and sticking up in random places. A tiny smile lighted onto his lips. “Hwa, I’m sorry- I was trying to handle it but she won’t take the medicine.” Your husband shrugged and waddled over to the crib. 

You let him take the spoon from your hand and carefully place it on the nearby table. He sleepily kissed your forehead before turning to his crying daughter. “Can you take her?” He asked gently picking her up and passing the child to you. 

Your husband turned back to the crib, grabbing something, leaving you with a screaming baby. The handsome man returned with his daughter’s favorite plushie in hand. His longer fingers pushed the arms to look like the toy was waving. “D/n, open your mouth please!” He chirped in a goofy voice. 

The little girl refused, shaking her head. She continued to cry in your arms, pushing away the stuffed animal. Your husband was not discouraged and instead gently picked up the medicine filled spoon with nimble fingers. 

“Hi, princess!” Seonghwa sang in a cute and happy voice. His free hand moved up to make bunny ears on top of his head. “Will you take the magic potion for daddy?” D/n’s cries trickled to stop and she sniffed, watching her father do all sorts of sleepy but sincere aegyo. 

“D/n, do you want the magic potion?” You whispered in her ear with a smile. 

The little girl nodded, rubbing her eyes. Seonghwa smiled and moved the spoon like an airplane before letting his daughter take the medicine. She gagged at the taste, crying a little at the bitterness. Her tears quickly stopped when she was wrapped up in her father’s arms. 

Her little fingers held on tightly to his shirt as his hand protectively held her to his chest. “Let’s go back to bed,” He whispered, letting his other hand envelope yours. “D/n, let's go sleep in mommy and daddy’s room, huh?”

Nestling your face in Seonghwa’s shoulder, you let him lead you all the way back to your bedroom. With your daughter placed between you and the medicine finally taking its effect, she was soon fast asleep, little snores floating from her tiny body. Pressing a kiss to your knuckles, Seonghwa watched you drift back to sleep before doing so himself.

Yunho:

Both you and your husband had been woken up an hour ago by your screaming toddler. Normally you could get him right back to sleep, but this time something was actually wrong. It was two o’clock in the morning and you had no idea what to do. S/n was crying and throwing up and had a fever that wouldn’t break. 

You were frantically searching symptoms on your phone, pacing in the living room. After reading mommy blog after mommy blog you felt like you were getting nowhere. “Find anything?” Yunho called from the bathroom. 

You almost shook your head, forgetting your husband was in a completely different room with your son. Ending your pacing, you ventured towards your bathroom. Opening the door you were met with a sight that made your heart skip a beat. The small room was filled completely with steam from the running shower. Your two year old son was stripped of his clothes, which he complained earlier of suffocating him. He clung to his father’s bare chest. Yunho had his arms wrapped around S/n, holding him up, resting him on his hip. Your husband's peach-dyed hair was clinging to his sweaty forehead. 

For a moment you just watched the tall handsome man pat his son’s back gently and hum a soothing melody. He really did look like a worried Papa Bear. After a minute he noticed the lack of steam in the room and motioned for you to come in and close the door. “Mommy blogs are useless. They all say to just give him fluids and put him back to bed.”

Yunho sighed, shoulders heaving. Your son stirred and his eyes opened just barely to look into yours. You waved before reaching over and kissing his sweaty little forehead. Your hand trailed from your son to the warm skin of your husband. “Call your mom,” Yunho suddenly declared. 

“No.”

“Call her.”

“Fine.”

At this point, you were too worried about your son to think about the wrath you were incurring by waking your mother at this hour. Leaning against the bathroom counter, you pressed the device up to your ear. Your son whined and reached for your hand. “Don’t tell her we haven’t moved out of the apartment.” He whispered hearing the dial tone from your cell. Yunho was also comically afraid of your mother. 

You rolled your eyes. “Umm...Hi- Mom....” Yunho winced hearing your mother’s shrill and tired voice from the other side of the line. “Yeah. I’m really sorry. Look- mom, S/n is sick. We’ve got him in a steamed room. He’s been throwing up like crazy-”

Yunho’s long fingers softly raked through your son’s hair as he tried to listen to the conversation with his mother in law. “No.....No...Mom- Yunho didn’t give him ice cream. No......”

“It’s always my fault isn’t it,” Yunho groaned in a soft tone not wanting to upset his sickly son in his arms. “Tell her that I’m just as worried about my son as-”

“Bear.....this is not the time.” You scolded him, hand over the speaker. “Mom just....” You sighed- pinching the bridge of your nose. S/n cried at the loss of your hand in his. Your husband shushed him, wetting a washcloth and dabbing at his forehead and neck tenderly. “What’s his temperature?” Turning to your husband, you looked for the answer. “Babe, what’s his temp?”

“Last I checked it was 100.8,”

“100.8″ You gave a sigh of relief hearing your mother’s answer. “He’s going to be okay as long as it doesn’t get higher. She says keep him in here until his temp goes down and to try giving him something to eat to see if he can keep it down,” Relaying the instructions, Yunho nodded and did exactly what your mother told him. 

Yeosang:

You had no idea what to do with a sick kid. Yeosang had no idea what to do with a sick kid. You both were kind of in the same boat. You loved your daughter wholeheartedly, but the both of you were still new parents even two years in and were flying by the seat of your pants. 

So, when D/n had a 103 fever, the two of you started to panic. It was the middle of the night. Yeosang was cradling his crying toddler and you were desperately trying to reach your mother-in-law. “Is she really not picking up?” Never before in the entire time you knew Yeosang, had you seen him this worried. 

“Sang- it’s like two am. She’s probably asleep.” 

Yeosang watched you nervously burn a track in the floor. “Will you stop pacing?”

“Well, then what should we do?”

Your daughter nuzzled her sweating forehead into her father’s neck, little hands pulling at his sweatshirt. He rocked her back in forth in his arms, gears turning in his brain. “Hospital?” Your fiancee suggested- a hesitant but still desperate look in his eyes. 

“Yeah. Emergency room. I’ll call Hongjoong on the way.”

Yeosang sighed, standing up and watching you gather a bag of things you would need. “Don’t do that. He’s just gonna wake the boys and then Wooyoung is going to go all Crazy God Father on us.” You chuckled slinging the packed bag over your shoulder. 

“You’re the one who made him D/n’s god father. My vote was for Hongjoong.”

He groaned, not waiting for you to follow him out of the apartment. Having no time to strap her into her car seat, the singer climbed into the back and held his little girl as your family raced to the nearest emergency room. You burst through the doors, Yeosang carrying your crying toddler with her arms wrapped around his neck, much like in one of the medical dramas you had been watching lately. 

Thankfully you were rushed into a room and your daughter was tested and examined by a doctor quickly. You sat by her side the whole time, holding her hand while Yeosang watched the doctors carefully. Occasionally he would ask questions or accidentally chide them if his daughter yelped from pain or looked uncomfortable. He would quickly go back to silently watching knowing he had overstepped. 

As the doctor finished his examination, he asked you to wait for the test results to come back just to be sure it wasn’t anything serious. The boys burst almost waking D/n, Wooyoung racing towards the bedside of his goddaughter, a huge teddy bear in hand. Just like Yeosang they were all dressed in sweats or pajamas.

After about an hour of her uncles ‘quietly’ attending to their niece’s every need, the doctor returned- test results in hand. “Mr. Kang?” The physician’s eyes searched the boys' handsome faces until Yeosang raised his hand and made his way forward. 

“That’s me,”

“I’m the godfather, Jung Wooyoung, what should I be doing?” Wooyoung said peeping over your fiancee’s shoulder. 

The doctor blinked a few times before looking over to you as if to ask for a clue as to why this over-energetic boy was here. There was nothing you could do but shrug. “Well...um....you could start by sitting over there......quietly....”

Wooyoung gave the doctor a glaring look before reluctantly taking a seat in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs in the room. “It’s nothing serious is it?” Yeosang asked, his hands subconsciously rubbing the back of his neck. “D/n isn’t dying right?” 

The doctor smiled, placing a hand on the worried singer’s shoulder. “Right now she’s just fine. You were right to bring her in though! We are going to keep her for observation for the next twenty-four hours just to be absolutely sure it is nothing to worry about.” 

Yeosang relayed the news before shoving the boys out of the pediatric hospital room so his little girl could sleep. He called his manager to cancel his schedules for the next day and he stayed by D/n’s side until the doctor told him that she was going to be perfectly fine.

San:

Two hours. You had been up for two hours. There was nothing more on this Earth that you loved more than your little girl, D/n. But when she woke you up at one o’clock in the morning, sick or not, it was not a happy occasion. It didn’t look like anything too serious was wrong with her. You didn’t even have to call your fiancee. Granted he should have been home from practice twenty minutes ago but that was another problem that you didn’t have the patience for right now.

Your toddler whined and rolled around on her bed as you got up to go to the medicine cabinet. D/n’s cries could be heard from all the way down the hall, hurrying your tired movements. “I’m coming, bean,” Instead of wasting time standing there, you grab the first five bottles you see and rush back to your daughter’s room. 

Placing a cool washcloth on her forehead, her cries soften a little allowing you time to read the backs of the bottles. The next thirty minutes were spent trying to get your little girl to take the medicine. The sound of keys tinkling against the dish by the door makes your ears perk up. 

“Babe? Everything okay?” San was home. 

A bouncing head of dyed hair bounded down the hall to stop in the doorway. “She said she’s feeling sick,” San immediately rushes over, hand on the small of your back as he kneels by his daughter’s side. 

“Hey, princess,” He whispers, stroking the hair away from her face. The man pouts seeing her clutch onto her stomach. “Does your tummy hurt?” D/n nods, rolling over onto her side and crying more. 

San turns to you with a half accusing look on his face. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m the one who's been here taking care of her.” You smacked him lightly upside the head, not letting him forget he was the one who came home late. With a sigh, you dropped your sleep-filled head onto the singer’s shoulder. “She won’t take the cold medicine.”

Your fiancee scoffed, turning to look at you before filling a spoon with the oozy purple liquid. “I’ve got this. Watch the master.” San smiled, getting the attention of his little girl. “Princess, this tastes good don’t you want some! It will make you feel better!”

“Does it really taste good?” She askes shyly, looking at her father with stars in her eyes. 

He nods enthusiastically, side-eyeing the spoon. Your daughter looks expectantly from the spoon to her father. After a moment it sort of dawns on him what she wants. Hesitantly, he opens his mouth and swallows the medicine. While he tries to smile, San’s face immediately turns sour and he dramatically gags on the after taste. “UGHHH!” He groans making a gross face.

“No! I don’t want it! It will taste bad!” D/n cries. 

“Great job, Super-Dad.” You say sarcastically. San ignores you, still trying to wipe the taste from his mouth. “Baby, I promise you it doesn’t taste bad. Daddy is just a wimp.”

When you turn around to seek the singer’s help you find him on the phone and whispering to someone. “Hyung, what do I do? D/n won’t take the medicine. Apparently, Y/n’s been trying for hours and-” He freezes seeing you staring at him-brow raised in judgment. 

“Tell me you aren’t on the phone with Seonghwa.”

“I’m not on the phone with Seonghwa......” A moment of silence passes only filled by your child’s whines and cries. “Okay, fine. I’m on the phone with Seonghwa!”

“SAN!” 

“WHAT?! IT’S A REASONABLE THING TO DO!”

Mingi:

Mingi was panicking. You left seven hours ago. It took seven hours for everything to fall apart for the idol. While Mingi loved his job, it took away from him spending time with his two year old son. When your parents called, Mingi jumped at the chance to send you away for a weekend. He would get S/n time and you would get extra help planning for your wedding. 

This was not going at all how Mingi wanted. It was almost 1 AM and his son was crying loudly with a scalding fever. He rushed around the apartment trying to find the list of emergency numbers you had left him. His son was in resting on his hip secured by the rapper’s arm. “S/n...it’s okay. Shhhh.” He could do this. By calling you he would just be proving that he couldn’t take care of his son by himself and he was totally not going to let that happen. 

“Fuck, you’ve got a pair of lungs,” he cursed under his breath when the toddler screamed right in his ear. 

Mingi could not stop himself from physically cheering after finding the slip of paper. The smile all but comically fell when he saw that spaghetti sauce from the dinner he had made S/n was staining every inch of the sheet. 

Crushing the note in his fist he tossed it into the sink and just hoped it didn’t get stuck down the drain. “Okay, buddy. Time to go on an adventure.” Sitting his still crying child on the couch he grabbed a jacket from the closet and slipped his little arms through it. The toddler sniffled and looked at his father who tilted his head before returning to the closet. Mingi came back with two more coats and started stuffing his son into the puffy jackets. 

“That should be enough,” he stated, pulling the hoods over his son’s head and picking him up. The little boy sniffled and cried in his father’s arms all the way to the nearest convenience store. Mingi’s legs were sore from running and he was sure that S/n wasn’t comfortable either. 

White fluorescent lights shined all the way through the store’s windows and out onto the street. A happy chime alerted the half-asleep pharmacist behind the counter of the boys’ arrival. “Welcome, how can I help?” the woman greeted.

“I- uh.....my son....uh...” S/n turned around in Mingi’s arms rubbing his tired and tear-filled eyes. It was then he knew.....Mingi could not do this alone. “One second, sorry!” His long fingers pull his phone from his pocket and quickly dial your number. 

Your sleepy voice floats through the speaker automatically relieving the tension in his whole body. “Hi, baby, what’s up?”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry- S/n has a fever and I tried everything and there was spaghetti sauce and jackets and- and.......baby...please help.”

You giggled over the phone and asked your boyfriend to take a deep breath. Once he was calm and speaking in full sentences you asked, “Do you want me to come home?” 

“NO!” The pharmacist jumped at his volume and S/n almost started crying again. “Baby, just please tell me what to do!” 

After agreeing to stay you listed off several medications and tried not to laugh hearing the idol attempt to repeat them to the woman behind the counter. Mingi insisted you stay on the phone with him the whole way back to the apartment. 

S/n stopped sniffling and groaning when Mingi took off the boy’s three layers of coats and gave him the medicine. Both boys eventually fell asleep on the couch to you talking to them on speakerphone. 

Wooyoung:

Your bodies lay draped over each other on the couch. Wooyoung lay under you, fingers threading through your hair as he watched the random drama that played on the tv. The volume was low so as not to wake your sleeping toddler in the other room, but instead of the show, you listened to your boyfriend’s steady heartbeat. 

It was late. Maybe one in the morning? Wooyoung had rehearsals tomorrow, but no way was he going to pass up time alone with you. After you put S/n to bed he immediately dragged you to the couch. “I need my Y/n recharge!” He whined, making you giggle. Now you were so happy listening to his heartbeat, threatening to fall asleep to the calming sound. 

“Are you still awake?” He whispered, brushing his cheek over the top of your head. The singer chuckled as the tiniest nod rubbed against his chest. His hands dropped down to your waist hugging you tightly. With his fingers removed from your scalp, you started to come back from the tempting fog of sleep. 

Your mother ears picked up on the sound of a door opening and you sat up like a meerkat making the man below you smile. Your superpower was correct and soon tiny feet padded into the living room dragging a teddy bear behind him. Both you and the singer sat up seeing tears on your son’s cheeks. 

“Daddy, my tummy hurts,” the two-year-old cried. 

Immediately Wooyoung reached up and pulled his shaggy hair away from his face, wrapping it with a tie on his wrist. You smiled watching him switch into full-on dad mode. Picking his son up under the arms, your boyfriend stood up and let S/n’s little limbs wrap around his body. Full dad mode Wooyoung was honestly the hottest thing you had ever seen and it shocked you every time. 

“It’s probably just an upset stomach but let’s take his temperature just to be sure.” Wooyoung nodded at your words and comforted your child as you searched for the thermometer. 

Coming back with the instrument in hand you grinned at the sight before you. You could only compare the feeling to watching those videos of otters holding hands. The thermometer passed hands and you watched him struggle to get your son to open his mouth.

When he finally succeeded a soft grin floated over his lips as he watched his son. Hearing the click of your phone camera brought him out of his happy trance. “You did not just take a photo of me,” Wooyoung whined, smile betraying the tone of his voice. 

“The boys have to know what a soft dad you are!” You joked, wiggling your phone at him.

Wooyoung laughed and maneuvered his son onto his hip. “If I was not holding our son- I would fucking tackle you.”

“WOO- LANGUAGE!”

“Oh my god, he’s two what’s he gonna do?”

Rolling your eyes, you watch your boyfriend tease you and pull the thermometer from S/n’s mouth. Wooyoung tossed the instrument to you before walking over to the kitchen. Thankfully your little boy didn’t have a fever. 

The singer set s/n down on the counter and walked over to the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of ginger ale only to be stopped by your hand. “What?” You shook your head and put the soda back in the fridge. “I drank ginger ale all the time for this when I was his age,” Wooyoung stated like he was the smartest man in the world. 

“Yeah well, doctor’s everywhere say ‘no’.” It was his turn to roll his eyes as you gave your son a natural fruit pop and water instead. “Show me your MD, babe.” You joked, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Whatever,” Wooyoung said with a smile, kissing the top of your head before returning his focus to your son. 

Jongho:

Jongho was already nasty being away from his daughter for too long. This was the first weekend-long shoot Ateez was doing since D/n was born. You wouldn’t classify Jongho as a ....’clingy’ dad....just one that needed a picture and video check-in of his little girl every two hours or he would have a mini-meltdown. 

His shoot was supposed to be two nights and three days. It was only ten o’clock on the second night when your daughter suddenly got a high fever. The little girl wouldn’t stop crying and in the few words she knew, she complained of bad stomach pain and a headache. Your boyfriend would obliterate you if you didn’t update him. Therefore promptly on the hour, you called Jongho despite the crying infant in the next room. 

“Hi, Y/n-,” His expert ears immediately picked up on the crying over the phone. “What’s wrong is she okay? Are you okay? Is everyone okay? Why is my baby crying?”

“D/n is sick-”

“Do I need to come home? I’m coming home. I can totally come home.” You heard Yeosang shout a ‘No, he can’t’ from somewhere over the phone. 

You sighed-rubbing your temples as a particularly shrill shriek pierced through the thin walls of your apartment. “She has a fever, and a pretty bad stomach ache. I think it’s possibly the flu. It might just be a stomach bug.”

Jongho was getting more worried by the second. He hated hearing his baby girl cry and not be able to do anything about it. They were at least three hours away and that was if he forced a taxi driver to run all the stoplights. “That’s it. Baby, I’m coming home.”

“No, Jongho, honey-” It was too late. He had already hung up. 

Jongho walked right off set (thankfully cameras hadn’t been rolling). The singer marched right up to the director with determination in his eyes. Yeosang, having heard the youngest’s conversation immediately told Hongjoong who gathered the Maknae Damage Control Crew. I.e: Yunho and Wooyoung. “I need to leave.” he stated. The director didn’t even look up from his binder, simply waving his hand. 

“Yeah- go to the trailer. We aren’t rolling for another ten minutes.”

“No. I need to go. As in I’m done. No more shooting of Choi Jongho.”

This got the older man’s attention. His brows raised at the idol’s sudden defiance. “Sorry, kid. Your contract says I own you for another twenty-eight hours. You aren’t going anywhere.”

He took a shaky breath, obviously suppressing his anger. Yunho uncertainly placed his hand on the younger’s shoulder only for it to be brushed off. “You don’t understand. My daughter is sick. I’m leaving.”

“No.”

“NO?” Jongho was furious. Things escalated from zero to sixty very quickly. Wooyoung and Yunho were now holding back Jongho in hopes of keeping him from throttling the show director. The singer had an almost crazed look in his eye and was shouting about getting home to his D/n and something about breaking his head like an apple. 

Finally, Hongjoong stepped in. “Look just let him go home. We can finish the show with seven members. What’s the harm?” Thanks to the leader’s negotiating skills Jongho was soon racing back at light speed. At almost three am he burst through the door of your shared apartment only to be met with silence. 

He was very confused. His first thought was: “Oh no. D/n had a deadly contagious virus and both of them died almost instantaneously.” Frantically he pulled his mask back over his face and ran to the nursery. Surprisingly, he found his little girl fast asleep. Her face was calm and her forehead was no warmer to the touch than normal. 

Jongho next ventured into the bedroom, finding you passed out face first on his side of the bed. Smiling, he kicked off his shoes and took off his mask. “You had me worried for nothing.” He mumbled, collapsing onto the bed and pulling you into his arms. Not even the movement woke you up from your deep sleep. “Good job, mommy.” 

Masterlist

[lady-z-writes]

When you get a chance and if it’s something your down for (NO RUSH) could I possibly bother you for yet another fantastic piece with Heis and a fem reader? I can’t get the idea out of my brain of a hot evening (cause that factory must be sweltering) between the two, that kinda passionate, desire on high, needy and just downright sweaty kind of smut. All the bonus points if the aftermath is fluffy. Thank you!

Sure thing! Thank you for this. Smut below the cut:

Heisenberg is dripping with sweat when he comes back up to the living quarters. You've been wrapped in a towel for twenty minutes, waiting for him to join you for a shower and once you see him you know it's in his best interest.

Tonight is particularly hot - overwhelmingly so. And it doesn't help that you spent half the day watching Heisenberg work and sweat. He'd been shirtless as much as he could today and there were plenty of times you distracted him by stripping down to your skirt and a bra.

To say you two have been pawing at each other all day would be an understatement.

Only it was too hot to actually fuck in the factory, which was a damn shame.

Hence why you were eagerly awaiting his arrival back to the living quarters.

The shower running cold just how he likes it after a day like today, you watch him undress then stride right by you and into the shower, his finger grazing your thigh as he passes.

The grime washing off him is instant once the water hits him. He turns to watch you slip the towel from your body, step in with him. You want him to wash off before anything gets really heated, but he's kissing you and pressing you to the wall...how can you say no to him?

The icy water feels refreshing, wakes you up. It's a shock against the heat of his body.

Heisenberg enters you without much prep - there was no need. Today had been all the teasing you could want and somehow this shower sex isn't enough. The cold water is surely a distraction.

"Mmmm wanna cum?" he asks against your shoulder.

"You know that answer."

"Here?" he grunts as he thrusts into you. You shake your head. "Mmm fine then. Clean up," he pulls away, starts washing up; leaves you wanting and empty.

Your wet hair keeps you cool for a while after your shower is done and Heisenberg surely loves your wet shirt with your nipples poking through.

The couch is so sweaty to sit on and feign interest in a book. Heisenberg wants to write down today's notes and, honestly, you're so desperate for him. Normally, you'd be closing the distance between you two - physical touch - but tonight is just so Goddamn hot you can't bring yourself to do it.

So you're fingering yourself on the couch, touching yourself to the look of him so damn focused over that stupid journal.

The moan you accidentally let out alerts him and his eyes quickly trail toward you.

"Ohhh, you fucking tease," he drones. "Such a sight."

And he watches you, sets his gaze on your parted legs, the practiced movements of your fingers. You watch him fidget in the seat, pants tented, jaw clenching and unclenching as he debates if he wants to finish his notetaking.

A surge of pleasure shoots through you as you rub your clit. It's his breaking point. Heisenberg is shoving you down on the sweaty couch, hovering over you, removing your fingers so he can replace them with his mouth.

He gets you to cum two times before he's even unzipping his pants.

You're a sweaty, panting mess beneath him when he finally slides himself inside of you.

You swollen walls greedily take him in and you hear the shaking breath he releases on the first thrust. Heisenberg is all hands, despite the heat. Sloppy kissing, bumping noses, clashing teeth - it's needy and good. You can tell he needs to hold himself back because his pace changes before he switches up positions as way of distraction from blowing his load.

"Need you to cum on my cock," he huffs out, letting you top because he knows you love the added pressure, the control. "Now, doll."

He counts you down because you love the urgency, love knowing that he may punish you if you don't cum when he gets to 'one'. You love your little games.

By the time you're gasping his name, he's gripping your hips and rutting up into you at such a pace you can't catch your breath. He fills you and it's been so long coming, you sigh with relief.

You feel like you're on fire when you finally lay your body against his. The gasps that fill the room almost overpower the knowledge of the heat.

"Another shower is in order," you finally moan out, peeling yourself off him, your skin stuck together.

"I've been distracted from my notetaking."

"Wonder who would do such a thing."

"And you better not pull any of that self-pleasure again. I want to be in control of your pleasure tonight."

"So I'm guessing I'm not allowed to take a solo shower."

"You'd be guessing correct."

You groan, but only because it humors him.

You're both all hands again while he finishes up his notes. It's scorching inside but you still sit on his lap to be close to him, to run your nails along his skin, grind your body against him, let him trail kisses along the soft spot on your neck.

He's peeling your panties off you once his notes are finished and you're so eager to feel him again, you both forget about your shower just long enough to let him fuck you over the desk.

Your hands grip at his fingers planted beside your head on the desk. The next orgasm leaves you gasping and choking on stale air, clawing at his forearms, rutting back against him in a desperate plea to be fucked harder.

Of course, he obliges. Heisenberg aims to please.

You beg to face him after a while, cry out that you want to kiss him, touch him. He finally agrees to plop your ass on the desk, fuck you atop the metal thing (which is hot against your ass, but makes for some added pleasure you didn't know you'd like.)

You're all open-mouthed kisses, deep moans, wandering hands. It's passionate and desperate; needy in the best way. He makes you feel wanted. Your desire for him is always surprising to him, but he's learning.

As you come down from another orgasm, Heisenberg watches a bead of sweat trail between your breasts, down to your navel. He's, once again, distracting himself so he can last a little longer, maybe get one more orgasm out of you.

But this heat is making you both sleepy and he hums when you rest your head against his chest.

"Mmm I'm gonna fill you," he pants, "and then get you under some cool water, scrub you down...eat you out one last time before bed." He hears you moan. "Would you like that?"

You nod against his chest, moan out as he picks up the pace. Your hands wander all over his body and he feels so wanted, so attractive it makes him tingle.

"Mmm, need you, Heisenberg," you gasp out and that does it - it's enough to make him cum.

After the comedown, he carries you to the shower, sets you down, starts the faucet.

Bathing you is tender and takes his mind away from the humidity in the factory. You're beautiful, he thinks. Too beautiful to be with him, for sure.

Leaning against his chest, you're an exhausted mess. The soap is gentle against your skin as he cleans you up. He thinks you're asleep when he's done. It takes everything in you to stay awake so you decide to return the favor and clean him off.

"Okay, love," he hums against your ear. "That's enough. Time to rinse off. Then bed, you got me?"

He's getting on his knees in front of you as the water rinses him off. You nod, gripping at his shoulder as he easily hoists you against the wall, tucks your legs over his shoulders as he once again settles between your thighs.

That talented tongue of his works you into oblivion as he makes good with his promise. You're pretty sure you're in heaven by the time he's done with you. Shaky knees unable to support you, he steadies you enough to dry off and then carries you to the bed.

You know the drill: he'll go read until he's tired and you'll fall asleep alone. But not tonight. Tonight you're begging him to stay.

Tonight, he obliges.

"G'night, Heisy."

"G'night, kitten."