#track one beautiful day fine whatever

[missdynamighttt]

feining for frat boy katsuki…

it was hot. loud. half the girls were already screaming over shirtless frat boys grinding against windshields. your friend dragged you out with a “come on, it’s for charity!” and now you’re standing in the corner with a lukewarm lemonade and zero expectations.

you didn’t even want to come to this stupid fraternity fundraiser.

your roommate dragged you out with the promise of half-naked frat boys, but all you’ve seen so far are drenched freshmen trying to flex their way into a hernia.

but then you see him.

he’s got his back turned at first—lean muscle, golden skin, red swim trunks slung way too low on his hips. sunlight catches the water dripping down his back like it’s staged. and when he turns around?

game over. he’s gorgeous.

sharp jaw, wild blonde hair flattened from water, a cocky little smirk on his face as he wrings a sponge out over his head, totally aware of the stares.

and he sees you. right away. ruby eyes locked with yours and gives the most arrogant little up-nod like, yeah. you’re next.

you try to act unaffected. fail immediately.

he saunters over, sudsy bucket in one hand, water dripping down his abs like it’s a fucking calvin klein ad. stops right in front of you, eyeing your car, then you, then your car again. “you the one drivin’ this piece of shit?”

you blink. “excuse me?!”

he shrugs but you can see a little grin tugging on the corner of his mouth, smug and unbothered. “relax. i’ll make it look brand new.”

he puts the bucket down, saunters over, and damn—he’s even hotter up close. tall. muscles for days. and that little scar on his cheek? unfair.

then, leaning closer, voice low: “the name's katsuki bakugo. what’s yours, sweet girl?”

you tell him. maybe a little breathless.

he repeats it once—slow, like he’s trying it out on his tongue. “hm. yeah. i like that.”

and then he goes to work. but not just on the car.

katsuki bakugo washes that car like he’s auditioning for the dirtiest boy band you’ve ever seen. dropping the sponge just to bend over in front of you, ass on full display. making eye contact when he slides his hand over the hood like he’s caressing it. watering himself down with a hose and shaking his hair out like he’s in a shampoo commercial from hell.

by the time he’s done, your car is sparkling. and so are you—flushed, flustered.

he tosses the sponge into the bucket, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and smirks. “lemme know if you need a private wash sometime.”

and then he walks away, with you watching the water dripping down the curve of his spine, no better than a teenage boy ogling the back of a girl's bikini. you swear you black out for a second too.

it’s only a few hours after the car wash before he slides in your dms, smooth but dirty. you’re in your room, still reeling from whatever the hell that was, when your phone buzzes.

king.explosionmurder has sent you a message.

(yeah. that’s his actual handle. because of course it is.) then, you open it.

king.explosionmurder:

can't stop thinking about the girl with the shittiest car and the cutest fuckin’ face.

you stare. then another message pops up.

king.explosionmurder:

u free tonight?

or maybe you're too busy being adorable somewhere else?

your heart does a thing. you type out a reply—something just barely cocky enough to match him:

you:

depends

you always this forward?

king.explosionmurder:

only for girls with shitty taste in cars

so, only you

let me buy you a drink, sweet girl?

you:

fine

you can buy me a drink, frat boy

but for the record?

my taste in cars is not that shitty

king.explosionmurder:

whatever you say beautiful

8 pm, sunset bar down 5th ave

don't be late

katsuki shows up five minutes early, in a black tee that clings to his chest and jeans that should be illegal. hair still messy from his post-car-wash shower. when you walk in, his eyes track you like you’re the only person in the room.

“tch. thought you were gonna flake.”

you roll your eyes. “you’d cry if i did.”

his mouth twitches. “like a damn baby.”

then the date just... hits different. it wasn't what you expected. sure, it’s packed with college students and frat bros, but in the back corner booth? with him?

it’s quiet. comfortable. almost… intimate.

he’s not much of a talker, but with you? he tries. you ask about his major—he’s an aspiring pro-hero, of course—and he asks about yours, grumbling when you light up talking about it, because “fuck, that smile’s gonna kill me.”

and even though he’d die before saying it out loud, the minute you take a sip of your drink and laugh at something dumb he says? he’s gone. head over heels.

he walks you back to your dorm with his hand on the small of your back, even though it’s barely a ten-minute walk. says “text me when you’re in” even though he literally watched you unlock your door. stands there, gruff and gorgeous, waiting.

“gonna invite me?” he asks, tone teasing.

you shake your head, grinning. “not on the first date, i'm not.”

he groans dramatically. “damn. fuckin’ killin’ me here.”

you grin. “goodnight, frat boy.”

but he doesn’t move right away.

just stands there under the warm porch light, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to work off the ache of not touching you again. his shirt clings to him in the summer heat, his jaw sharp in the glow, but it’s his eyes that freeze you in place.

not hard. not sharp. not the glare he usually levels at the world.

but soft. heavy. like you’ve stolen the breath from his lungs and he doesn’t even want it back.

he looks at you like you hung the damn moon.

he takes one small step closer, close enough that you can feel the heat coming off his chest, close enough that if either of you moved just an inch, you’d be kissing.

“goodnight, sweet girl,” he says, voice low and rough, like gravel laced with honey.

it hits you somewhere deep. like he’s branding the words into you.

and then—he actually smiles. a real one. lopsided, shy, the kind of smile you’d never expect from someone who threatens to body slam people over couch cushions.

then he turns and walks away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, head down, like if he looks back even once, he’ll do something stupid like run back and kiss you senseless.

you close the door behind you, heart thudding so hard you swear your roommate can hear it.

you’re screwed. so screwed.

because things after that? they move fast.

to everyone else, he was the guy who'd scream if you left dishes in the sink, throw a beer can at you if you sat on his side of the couch, and threaten to body slam you if you so much as breathe near him.

but the entire frat house knew that their loud, grumpy, terrifyingly efficient frat dad—had a soft spot the size of a planet. and that soft spot? was for you.

you’re the only person allowed in his room during his grumpy post-practice naps. the only one who can touch his hair without him flinching. he’d grumble when you flick his forehead when he was being dramatic but he'd let you.

he might curse under his breath, but when you’d slide onto his lap during movie night, he'd wrap an arm around you like it was instinct. like protecting you came as naturally as breathing.

he had snacks stocked in the mini fridge (not for him, you liked them). he hands you your favorite snack and grumbles, “was on sale. don’t get used to it,” even though it’s never on sale but he bought six of them anyway.

and when finals week hits? he’s a damn soldier for you.

caffeine runs. your favorite takeout. quiet growls at anyone who tries to talk to you in the library. he reads your flashcards like they’re enemy coordinates and quizzing you becomes his personal mission.

but the best part? the tiny, quiet moments in between.

like when he’s losing at mario kart and you’d sit in his lap while he played, steal his fries, kiss his cheek mid-rant just to shut him up.

or when you were too tired to walk back to your place, you just curl up in his bed. not only does he let you, he tucks the blanket around you and kisses your forehead so soft it makes your chest ache.

and somehow, all of that was like magic.

sure, he might’ve acted like the world’s most chaotic, aggressive frat president, but when it came to you? he was all bark, all bite… and all heart.

‎‧���˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ��┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[shujichii]

he hadn't been the same ever since you made him try a period cramp simulator a month ago.

it all unfolded during one ordinary morning— until it ended up being anything but ordinary— when you presented the device to him like an ancient relic uncovered from the deepest depths of the earth, all while saying something along the lines of, “it's a social experiment. a precious opportunity to strengthen our bond and explore the art of empathy."

him, being the ever-dutiful husband, naturally found himself agreeing to try it.

long story short, it humbled him deeply.

you thought he was already attentive during your cycle. which, to be truthful, he was. but now? you realised that you were wrong. very, very wrong.

and now, you were being greeted by your husband's face in the wee hours of the morning through one cracked eye, the mattress dipping with his weight as he stared at you with concern etched into his features.

then came the first inquiry.

“good morning, sweetheart. are you in pain?”

you blinked, groggily sitting up, an ache beginning to form in the deep depths of your system. “oh… i guess so?”

affirming that you were indeed going through that time of the month—courtesy of him having tracked your period— he gave you a solemn nod before standing up, disappearing into the kitchen and reappearing with a trey in hand.

you squinted. a fully prepared breakfast that looked too beautiful to consume. a heating pad. tea. water. chocolates. painkillers. and… a checklist.

you took a peek.

heating pad prepared. favorite blanket and pillows fluffed up. comfort snacks placed in her favorite bowl within reach. romance dramas queued. sanitary products restocked. chores cleared.

your gaze darted between him and the trey, your mouth closing and opening as your brain scrambled to process the situation.

“here, use this,” he moved forward, fluffing up the pillow you were sleeping on from behind before gently nudging you back, securing the heating pad against your stomach. “there.”

you didn't know which one to do first. shed a few sparkly tears of gratitude or laugh and lung forward and drown him in kisses.

“y-you didn't have to do all that—”

“i wanted to. i must. you can't be saying outrageous things like that.”

he didn't allow you to lift a single finger throughout the day. checked in from time to time to make sure you were okay, brought you whatever you asked for, gave you a message even though you didn't ask for it, dropped everything to cook for you, and came in with tissues, perfectly brewed tea with your exact preferences, vitamins and an even fluffier blanket when you sneezed once. at some point, he asked if you would like him to carry you around the house—even the bathroom, by the way— because “why waste your energy when I'm here?”

by evening, you were lounging like the queen you are, surrounded by all the things needed to make your period session bearable and one prepared-and ready-to pamper-to-the-max husband.

you paused the drama you were watching, yanking him down towards you from where you were curled up on the couch, his warmth immediately wrapping around you.

his hand instinctively found your waist, the other braced beside your hip. “hey— what's up?”

you grinned, lifting yourself just a little to place a featherlight kiss against his jaw. “baby, thank you. i'm fine now. why don't you relax with me?”

he hesitated for a moment, although his hands betrayed him by tightening around your waist just a fraction.

“are you sure? what if—”

“no buts. i demand cuddles. right now.”

he chuckled, the sound coming out breathier than intended as he settled down beside you before pulling you on top of him, securing you against his chest, his fingers already gently combing through your hair. you sighed contently, nuzzling deeper, all while his heart nearly gave out at the gesture.

after a moment, he spoke.

“if you ever need anything, just tell me,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your temple.

“then stay here. with me.”

you didn't have to repeat that. and you never had to doubt the royalty treatment coming up every month. although he'd still make sure to treat you like a queen outside of that month, too.

♡ nanami kento, geto suguru, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, kamo choso, itadori yuuji, zayne, caleb, sylus, ishida uryuu, kuchiki byakuya, ishida ryuken, brant, xiangli yao, jiyan, rengoku kyojuro, tomioka giyuu, himejima gyomei, sung jinwoo, wriothesley, armin arlert, reiner braun, barbatos, simeon, satan, your favorite.

[vamplvs]

SLEEPY HCS WITH THE THUNDERBOLTS

INCLUDES -> yelena belova, bob reynolds, john walker, bucky barnes WARNINGS -> literally all fluff! no need to fear angst here (there is some minor swearing tho); walker calls the reader beautiful, and bucky calls them 'doll' NOTES -> y'all i feel crazy about thunderbolts. i haven't had a writing kick like this in YEARS. also, no one hate me for john in this one, he's my problematic wife, ok? also i want wyatt russell bad. anyways, my requests/asks are open! and as always comments and reblogs are much appreciated <3

YELENA BELOVA. — sleepy movie night? you got it. there's snacks, blankets, a random movie, and so many cuddles.

"are you sure you don't want to go to bed, love?" yelena mutters to you. the tv softly glows in front of you both, whatever period piece was playing long forgotten. you've been curled around her side since the movie began, but now your arm is draped over her and your head has fallen to her shoulder.

"no, i'm up," your voice is rough from sleep, but you pick your head up anyways and stretch. "see?" yelena rolls her eyes at your loopy, exhausted smile.

"whatever you say," she replies with a teasing smile.

"mhm..." you adjust your position under the blanket so you can be sitting upright next to her. but the blanket is just so soft and yelena is so warm, and before you know it, it's only a few minutes before you're curled against her once more.

yelena works hard to stifle her laugh when you fall asleep, but she lets you stay there. the movie plays on dully—the man in it has made some apparently irredeemable mistake that the woman he loves will no doubt forgive him for. yelena leans her head against yours, swearing that she'll get up once the movie is over so the two of you can sleep in a proper bed.

the next morning, when bucky is getting coffee he sees the two of you curled up on the couch and can't help but smile. it's nice seeing that yelena's found someone she trusts.

BOB REYNOLDS. — both of you are up late at night, entirely unable to sleep. you because you're working on tech for the thunderbolts new avengerz, and bob simply wandering the tower at night.

bob doesn't exactly sleep well these days, not after the mess with the void. it isn't unusual to find him roaming the tower at odd times, and this time it's your turn to run into him.

you're working in some old lab that you assume was tony stark's back in the day. your back aches, your fingers raw from tinkering with yelena's widow equipment, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. it's a miracle you haven't electrocuted yourself already.

"you're still up?" a voice softly speaks from the hallway.

your heart nearly stops right there and then. "holy shit!"

"sorry," bob steps into the dim lights of the lab, his hands up in a show of peace. "i didn't mean to scare you."

"no, no, it's fine! you're fine." you smile at him. "what are you still doing up, sweetheart?"

"i can't sleep," his response is sheepish.

you stand, stretching your arms above your head, and walk over to him. "let's see if we can do something about that." you pull him along by the hand, fingers entwined.

by the time you both get to bed, your eyes are heavy with sleep. you pull bob closer to you, letting his heartbeat lull you gently to sleep. the comfort of your body against his, a reliable weight to keep him still and grounded, has him dozing in no time.

JOHN WALKER. — he's the one up, unable to sleep. you're fast asleep and he just takes in everything about you. maybe it's the slight frown you have in your sleep, or the way your hair falls into your face just a little, but he's captivated.

john lays opposite of you on the bed, just tracing your features with his eyes. he takes everything in slowly: the flutter of your eyelashes, the curve of your cheek, the curl of your lips. you're so beautiful, and honestly, john has no idea how he got so lucky.

with his track record, it's a miracle you-

"why'd you stop?" you mumble, still half asleep, interrupting his train of thought entirely. his hands, which had been tracing patterns softly over your skin, have long been still.

"didn't wanna keep you up," he mumbles back, and you crack open an incredulous eye at him.

you grumble something under your breath that john can't quite catch before pulling yourself closer to him.

"it was nice," you say, sleep already calling your name. so john continues.

he traces abstract patterns from the nape of your neck to your shoulders to your back. he feels the way your muscles loosen beneath his touch and the way your breath evens out.

and you know what? fuck his track record. if he got lucky enough to be graced by you, he damn well won't mess it up.

BUCKY BARNES. — this time it's you who can't sleep, and it's a good thing bucky has a tendency to stay up obnoxiously late reading his novels despite his other old man tendencies.

a soft knock comes from the door, startling bucky from his book. it's too late for anyone to need him urgently for anything, so he's almost inclined to ignore it until your voice rings through the door.

"bucky? you still up?" you're tentative, almost wary, as you ask for him.

"yeah, doll, i'm up." he sits up, ready to open the door for you when you walk in wrapped in a blanket.

"can i stay with you?" you mutter, still standing a ways away from the bed.

without saying a word, he pats the spot next to him on his bed and leans back against the headboard, leaving enough space for you to curl up next to him.

"what're you reading?" your voice is muffled by his shirt and the blankets wrapped around you.

"the hobbit. mind if i keep reading?" you shake your head, listening to the steady beating of his heart.

"it was at this point that bilbo stopped. going on from there was the bravest thing he ever did. the tremendous things that happened afterwards were as nothing compared to it..." bucky's voice rumbles soft in his chest, gentle despite the intensity of the moments he read out to you.

[kiyoomiee]

one. two. three. four. five.

Your bestfriend, Yuuji’s older half-brother Sukuna, who always had this grudge towards you and you can’t pinpoint why.

You first met him during summer break. You couldn’t keep up with your dorm fees anymore and happened to mention it to Yuuji one time.

“You could stay with me! I have a spare room nobody’s using.”

“Are you sure Yuuji? I don’t want to impose on you.”

“Of course I’m sure. You don’t even have to pay rent or anything.”

A home that’s close to uni and has no fees? It was heaven sent for a broke college student!

“That’s the last of them. Thank you Yuuji, I really appreciate the help. If there’s anything I could do around here just let me know.” You told him after dropping your stacking your last moving box into your new room.

“No problem. Just a heads up though, my brother also lives with me. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure, it’s fine with me.” Your famous last words.

You should’ve headed the red flags when Yuuji tried to warn you about his brother.

“Sukuna can be..difficult sometimes. But it’d be nice if you two would be friends. If not, ehh, just avoid him if you can.”

You should’ve headed the red flags when Yuuji tried to warn you about his brother.

To say that Sukuna had a bad day at the tattoo shop was an understatement. His new assistant never arrived, he was dealing with a shit client plus, his ink almost ran out.

His frustration echoed throughout the two-storey house when he slammed the front door shut.

He was confused by the smell coming from the kitchen as he walked in. Is Yuuji cooking? Nah, his idiot brother would burn the house down if he even tried to get near the kitchen.

Instead, he finds a woman’s figure busy behind the kitchen counter. It made him stop his tracks.

Beautiful, he thought. But too young for Sukuna’s taste. Plus, he doesn’t like it when a stranger touches his favorite spot in the house.

So great, his bad day is about to become worse.

“Who. The. Fuck. Are you?” You almost screamed when your eyes went to the man that appeared behind you.

He looked similar to Yuuji, but the aura was very different. His build was larger, jaw sharper, and he had looked furious.

Oh, he must be Yuuji’s brother, Sukuna. You tensed up unintentionally while his eyes wandered on what you’re wearing.

“You one of Yuuji’s girls? I told him not to bring his hookups here.” He uttered, eyes not leaving yours.

You wore a tank top with cotton pajama shorts. You looked too comfortable just to be visiting.

“No! I-I’m Yuuji’s friend. It’s nice to meet you.” You said nervously.

“Can’t say the same sweetheart. I’m not so fond of strangers in my house. So open the front door and walk outside.”

What? Is he kicking you out?

“Wait! Yuuji didn’t tell you? He allowed me to stay at the spare room down the hall.”

“He what?” Sukuna was fuming. Every step he took closer to you looked like he was going to eat you alive.

“YUUJI!” His voice thundered all over the house.

“I-I think he’s sleeping in his room.” You winced at the string of curses that came out of his mouth.

“Whatever conversation you had with my dumb brother, it’s not happening. You can’t stay here.”

“But it’s the start of the semester, I can’t find a new dorm in a snap!”

“You shouting at me, girl?”

“N-No, I mean-just please, I can take care of the house. I can even cook for you. I can’t afford to leave, not right now.”

Before Sukuna could open his mouth, Yuuji’s footsteps rang out from the stairs.

“Sukuna, you’re back! Wait, did something happen?” Yuuji looks at your nervous face.

“Yeah we’ve met alright.” Sukuna muttered, arms crossing to his chest.

“Yuuji, your brother’s kicking me out.” You tried to hide behind Yuuji’s form.

“What? You can’t kick her out!”

“I can because it’s my goddamn house. If don’t want some girl in here, she’s got to go.”

“You can’t! To be fair, I did tell you that my friend’s staying with us for a while and you agreed.”

Yeah he did agree but he thought that black haired kid was moving in, not you.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Sukuna exclaimed and you could tell he’s about to lose it.

“I’ll stay out of your way all the time, I promise. You won’t even notice I’m here.” You pleaded him.

“Yeah, I doubt that. Clean up your damn mess.” He said harshly and glared at you before stomping his way upstairs.

“I’m so sorry. My brother’s not so good at making first impressions.” Yuuji pouted.

He’s an asshole, you wanted to say.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad he didn’t kick me out.” You exhaled in relief.

If that was his reaction during your first meeting then what about the upcoming months?

“He won’t. I’m sure you’ll grow on him, you kinda have that effect on people.” Yuuji tried to cheer you up but you just gave him a faint smile.

Yeah, somehow you doubt that would work on Sukuna.

——————————————————

note: Sukuna is 29 in this fic and your age gap is 6 years. I don’t like doing age gap with minors, so just think that everyone in this fic are 18+.

[marvelishmanda]

For You, Exactly As You Are

You wake up tired, scroll bad news until it blurs. Answer emails, jaw clenched tight— or can’t even bear to look.

You say “I’m fine” with three tabs open—rent, repair, relief— and one on how to sleep through the stress, or how not to sleep all the time.

You forget. You snap. You soften. You try again.

If you are carrying children, parents, partners— meals, medications, moods— and no one asks how you’re doing, this is me asking.

Not just if you’re managing. If you’re okay. If you’ve been held, or fed, or even seen.

How are you, really?

If your brain jumps tracks mid-sentence, mid-plan, mid-dream— if the dishes feel impossible, if you forgot again and hate yourself for it— please hear this: you are not alone. Not at all.

This world wasn’t built for minds like yours, but that doesn’t mean yours is wrong. It means you’ve been trying to bloom through cracked concrete, drinking whatever rain you could reach, and still—still—you flowered.

If the world was made for standing without thinking, for walking without fear, for climbing stairs without pain, for seeing every sign, for hearing every word—

If holding a pen, a fork, a steering wheel costs more energy than you have, if you measure your day in spoons left, not hours passed—

you are not broken. You are not a burden. The burden is stairs with no ramp, streets that swallow wheels, silence when you ask for help.

If rest feels dangerous, if joy feels stolen, if you’re so used to pushing through you forgot how to just be— you’re not the only one.

The world wasn’t built for you. Not for most of us, was it? But you are here anyway, making it work how you can.

That is not failure. That is survival. That is a kind of brilliance.

You are not failing. You are not falling behind. You are responding to a world that punishes tenderness.

And still— you are kind. You are trying. You are here.

If you wonder whether I mean you, I do. Even if the voice says "not me," I still do.

Come as you are: tired, tangled, beautiful.

You don’t have to fix yourself to deserve rest. You don’t have to be better to be loved.

You already are loved.

Still.

Still.

[lilaccmilk]

summary: you rescue a snow leopard! hybrid from an underground fighting rink and he gets attached to you. (this is basically GOJO SATORU X READER but no name mentioned.)

a/n: this was written keeping Gojo Satoru in mind but feel free to imagine whoever you want to.

content warning: hybrids, mention of underground fighting rinks, abuse, mention of Y/N, scenting, and fluff ig?

word count: 1.4 k

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For months you and your team had been tracking an underground hybrid fighting ring. And now you finally had the chance to raid in there and save those hybrids. You worked at a hybrid clinic and dealt with trauma hybrids and their medical health, like a doctor. Your presence was necessary to administer sedatives to aggressive hybrids. You reached the place with hybrid rescue officers, many types of hybrids were caged, surrounding a huge arena for fighting— wolf hybrids, snake hybrids, leopard hybrids, bear hybrids— you name it, they were there. Many of the hybrids just went along with the crew, some had to be lightly sedated. At the most secluded cage, you heard growling, agitated yet worried growling. “We won’t hurt you. We’re from the hybrid protection services, I’m Dr. Y/N.” You signalled the guards to put their guns down, so as to not agitate the hybrid more. “Please step out, i promise we wont’t hurt you yeah?”

Slowly you saw him step out— a beautiful snow leopard hybrid, white hair, pretty blue eyes that held the sky in them. But behind that aggressive demeanour, you could sense he was hiding pain. He had a few untreated bruises and slashes. You backed up a bit to give him space, opening then cage, you spoke in a soft voice, “Come on out now, let’s get you patched up yeah?” His eyes snapped to you, and they softened a bit. But then one of the officers came into view, and he snarled, you quickly got in between them, but too late, your hand had been scratched by him, he quickly stepped back, not looking you in the eyes.

Being deemed as the strongest in the arena had more cons than pros. Sure being respected and feared was nice, but that also meant that he was used as a weapon. Constant fights, back to back bettings, being drugged and then beaten up if he tried to rebel. He had smelled you before he heard your voice, you smelled sweet, like a spring day. And your voice felt like it belonged to one of the angels, he saw you signal the officers to put their guns down. He appreciated it, very deeply. You had beckoned him to come closer, opening the cage, you beckoned him to come closer to you— to freedom.

But then one of the officers moved, and whatever spell you had around him had been broken, he acted before thinking, lurching to eliminate an opponent. When he did see what he had done, he backed away. No no no– it wasn’t supposed to be like this, now you’d hate him and tell them to leave him and— “Hey, it’s ok. Please calm down, they’re all the good guys.” your voice interjected. Huh?

You knew he was scared. He meekly followed you, the other rescued hybrids backing off when he came into view, some out of respect and most out of fear. You made it to the animal clinic, you told him to wait in the shower room, you’d get some towels and clothes. As you were returning with the necessities, a fee officers came upto you, asking if you’d be okay, since the hybrid placed under your care is feral. Feral, that word irked you, but you kept quiet and told them that you’d be fine.

Before abruptly entering the room, you knocked, making it know you were entering.

You went in and saw him standing, in the same spot you left him in, very stiff, as if you’d hurt him if he even breathed the wrong way.

“You could have looked around you know? Will you be able to take a bath on your own, or do you want me to help?” you spoke. He looked blankly at you at first, but then his eyes softened, “I’d like your help please.” You nodded and filled the tub with water, and turned around to allow him to remove his clothes. He got in the tub and you took the shower head, making him comfortable with the water temperature. “I’m gonna wash your hair for you okay?” He nodded at that idea. You took your time with that, mainly because you could hear his purrs of contentment, you were pretty sure he wasn’t aware he was purring.

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A month or so had passed and he was very grateful. You kept him company and showed him patience. Being in the hybrid shelter was weird, but that couldn’t be helped, not until you adopted him. And he knew that he wouldn’t willingly go with someone else. You were pretty, protective, caring and you had a very soothing voice. Especially when you called him ‘snowflake’ or ‘Olaf’ (he loved watching Disney movies after you introduced him to Tangled) those silly nicknames made his heart go into overdrive. One thing that irked him was your scent— don’t get him wrong, he just hated that it contained the scent of many hybrids, he wanted you to smell like him. He wanted others to know you were his. His mate.

You knew he was very attached, and he had developed a sweet tooth. He was slowly turning into one of the most energetic person you had ever met. Always up to silly things and he loved PDA with you. The concept of personal space had now become foreign to him. He always had to have some kind of skinship with you. You wanted to adopt him. But just because of your selfishness, you wouldn’t ruin a chance for him to find a person he liked. But this season was the one where many hybrids got adopted. You didn’t want someone else to take him away from you, and you hated yourself for thinking that.

You saw him the garden, looking sad, you made your way over to him, sitting down next to him, “What happened snow?” There it was, that nickname. It made his heart flutter and his lungs stop working, he wanted nothing but to kiss you. “Nothing.” You insisted on him telling you, but then he finally spoke up, “Do you think, someone could actually think about adopting someone like me?” He wanted to know if you would, he went on about how he thought that maybe he isn’t meant to get all that. But you blurted out before you could think, “I want to adopt you. If that’s okay with of course. I mean- i totally understand if you don’t want me to adopt you. Like, we can find someone else or-“ you were cut off by him hugging you, repeatedly saying yes.

You signed those papers and took him home the same day.

He didn’t think he could be any closer to heaven when he entered your house. Your scent enveloped him. He finally let go of your hand that he had been holding since you asked him if you could adopt him.

At dinner time he practically inhaled the food. You showed him his room and bid him goodnight.

As you were in your bed scrolling through wattpad, you heard loud claps of thunder outside, it was raining. You then heard his voice on the other side of the door, you called him in. “Can I….sleep with you? I wanna cuddle” You wordlessly lifted your blanket and opened your arms, he quickly slipped in next to you.

You both laid together, his head against you chest, but then you felt him nuzzling your neck, almost as if–“Are you scenting me snowflake?” you laugh. “Mmh, yes.” he says in a cocky manner. “You should smell like me, you’re my mate.” Your eyes widen at his words. “Mate?”

He looks up, in panic, he couldn’t believe he said that out loud, “I’m sorry, are you mad? Please don’t send me back-” You cut him off with a finger in his lips, “Hey, I’m not mad, just surprised.”

“So….you accept being my mate? Once you do, be aware there won’t be any breakups like humans.” He warned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, love.”

He leaned in to kiss you, it was a soft kiss, like a promise, your hands threaded through his hair and you parted away, resting your forehead against his. And then you looked into his eyes, and something flips, he pulled you onto his lap, kissing you feverishly, as chaotic as the thunderstorm outside. You returned the kiss back with same fervour. You both pulled away because of the lack of air and smile. You laid back down, his arms around you. And for the first time in a long while, he slept without nightmares but rather, with contentment.

──────────────────

hey guys lemme know how was it. i’m gonna make this a mini series i guess. should i? LIKES, REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[no-144444]

real- faking it au

꩜summary: lando comes home from Monza and something changes between you two

꩜pairing: fakeboyfriend! lando norris x fem! fakegirlfriend! actress! reader

Monza. Not exactly what he wanted. The whole weekend felt like a blip in his capabilities, in his team, in him. He was excited to get home, even if it was just for two days before he was off again. 

You were the last thing he expected to see in his apartment. And you were cooking. In his kitchen. 

“Hello…?” he spoke, finally catching your attention. 

“Hi,” you smiled back, cautious, but kind. He took another step inside. “Your weekend seemed shitty so I thought I’d… drop by. If that’s ok.”

“That’s fine,” his mouth worked before his brain and it rushed out. Fuck, he sounded desperate. “I mean- yeah. That’s totally cool with me.” 

“Cool,” you smiled. There was a lull for a moment. He went into his bedroom to empty his suitcase, you stayed cooking in the kitchen. There was something so… domestic about it all. So regular. Like this could really be your life. You pushed the thoughts away as he walked back out in a pair of shorts and a hoodie, looking over your shoulder.

“What are you making?” 

“Pasta alla vodka,” you explained. “Want to help?”

He shrugged and pulled his sleeves up. “What do I do, chef?” he chuckled, and you rolled your eyes, but there was an undeniable smile on your lips. 

“Just cut up the onions, if you don’t mind,” you instructed and turned your attention back to the pot in front of you. He followed your instructions, and handed them over as his eyes clouded with unshed tears. “Crying already, Norris?” you teased and he chuckled, washing his hands as the tears fell.

“Fuck off,” he shot back, but there was no venom behind it. “You gave me the hard job.”

“I’d hardly call cutting onions hard,” you scoffed.

“You’ve only been stirring the pot!” he shrieked. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, that’s an important job,” you shooed him away, giggling. He stopped in his tracks. He watched you. The curve of your nose. The way you were still smiling. Your effortless beauty made his heart beat quicker. You turned your head and caught him looking. “What?” you chuckled. 

He didn’t know what to say. “Why did you come here?” he asked, his mouth working quicker than his brain. 

Your face changed into something unreadable and you turned your attention back to the pot. “Dunno,” you shrugged. “Just… thought it was the right thing to do.” 

He nodded. “It was,” he said before stepping in close to you. You kept your eyes on the pot, he kept his eyes on you. “I’m not crazy, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-” you started, but he cut you off. 

“This. Us. Everything we do. A fake girlfriend doesn’t come over to make me feel better after a bad race, a real one does. A fake girlfriend doesn’t listen to my fucking hundreds of voicenotes and talks through every talking point in her own, a real one does. A fake girlfriend doesn’t travel halfway across the world to see me, a real one does,” he listed, his voice strained, trying to make you see, to make you understand. 

“So you’re saying you want me to leave you alone?” your voice was small, smaller than he’d ever heard it. You still wouldn’t look at him. 

“No!” he practically shouted, making you flinch beside him. He chuckled, turning your body to face his, his hands on your waist. “I want us to be real. Y/n, I’ve been in love with you since day one. Every fucking day you’re the first thing on my mind. I want you. I have since the start.”

“Lando… the contract ends in 4 months-”

“We don’t have to,” he shook his head. “We can… stay together.”

“We won’t get the full payout unless we do the public break-up-”

“I’ll pay. Whatever the rest of the film budget is, I’ll pay,” he promised. He didn’t care what it took. He didn’t care what reasons you gave him. 

“I’m not going to make you pay,” you chuckled. “We can just… ‘fake break-up’,” you shrugged. His heart skipped a beat. 

“So… we’re together together, for real?” he smiled like a little boy getting his favourite toy. You smirked, and wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips meeting his as it had before, only this time it was different. He was yours. You were his. You were real.

He wasn’t letting you go.

navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

faking it au masterlist

taglist: (just comment to be added!)

@n3versatisfied @quinquinquincy @paucubarsisimp @htpssgavi @sarx164 @freyathehuntress

[logansdoll]

37

the fate of the entire world came down to a race against time, the future of all mutants resting on logan's shoulders... but a little detour wouldn't hurt, right?

CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, takes place during the events of Days Future Past, Logan was kind of an ass, reader is kinda that girl, angst if you squint, idk if i timed the timeline right or not so whatevs, etc.

"I'm sorry... what are we doing here, again?" Hank asked, confused, as the three men marched through the hallway of an apartment complex.

"I need to find someone," Logan answered, curtly, eyes scanning over the numbers on each door.

'37... 37... 37...'

Charles let out a dry chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose, "See, that's so funny because last I checked you said we were in a crunch for time."

He stopped in his tracks, Hank pausing mid-walk to turn to him, while Logan came to a standstill just ahead.

"If we have time to take detours, then I'm starting to believe the situation isn't as dire as you described."

Hank swallowed thickly, turning to Logan in expectation of some sort of blowout.

Despite having only known the man for a few of hours, he could tell he had a dangerously short fuse, and wouldn't take kindly to Charles's attitude.

And he'd be right.

Whipping around, Logan stormed over and grabbed the telepath by the collar, brows furrowed as he roughly yanked him closer.

"I just got sent back in the past fifty-fucking-years... And before I do another goddamn thing, there is someone I have to see," he growled, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. "Do you got a problem with that, bub?"

Charles paused a moment, eyes scanning over the man before him.

In that instant, he wanted nothing more than to read his mind—to see what was going on in that complicated head of his.

But, alas, he couldn't, so for the sake of everyone, he settled for the safer option.

"Fine with me," he raised his hands in surrender, letting out a sigh as Logan abruptly let him go, turning to go back to his search. "And if I'm not mistaken... thirty-seven would be about five doors down to your right."

Logan glanced back at him, his expression a cross between annoyed and less annoyed.

He'd deal with him later.

But in the meantime, he sped past the next five doors as fast as he could, turning to his right to see what played the setting to some of his best dreams.

A red door, with paint chipping near the hinges, and a crooked 37 and poorly covered claw marks from when he stumbled in drunk one night.

'Just like I left it...'

It wasn't long before the memories came rolling back, reminding him of what he was coming back to.

"You sure you have to go?" you hummed, gathering the sheets to cover your chest and sitting up in the bed, watching as he put on some pants.

Logan nodded, moving to grab his wife-beater, "Yeah, I got some things to take care of... I should be back in a few days."

Turning toward the bed, he smirked at your sleepy form, your bed-head and tired eyes insanely sexy.

"You know what to do while I'm gone, right?"

"Check the peephole before I open, and aim for the nuts," you recited with a yawn.

He smiled, snatching his leather jacket off your chair before striding toward the bed, placing a quick peck on your lips

"I'll be back soon," he promised, swiping a stray stand of hair out your face.

You smiled, looking up at him through your lashes with your beautiful, (e/c) eyes, "I'll be waiting."

When Logan snapped himself out of it, he was still standing in front of the door, the chunk of wood the only thing keeping you two apart.

He was about to knock, but stopped mid-way, hesitant.

What if you'd moved on? Forgotten him in the meantime...

"I'll be waiting," your words echoed in his head.

He sighed, steeling his nerves, before quickly knocking.

There was a moment of silence before the lock clicked, the knob turning and door swinging open to reveal you.

The air caught in Logan's throat as he got a good look at you, his eyes raking up and down your body.

You looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

'That was too quick...'

"You didn't check the peephole," he stated, unable to come up with anything else to say.

Without warning, the sound of a particularly harsh slap echoed throughout the hallway, Charles and Hank flinching at the noise.

"Okay, I deserve that."

"You absolute fucking asshole!" you spat, voice disbelieving of the sight in front of you. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

Because of your mutation you aged like he did, so you weren't exactly younger looking per se, but you had a youthful vibrance to you.

Your hair was sensually tousled—most likely from just waking up—your skin glowing in the mid-morning sunlight, and your silk robe coming up extra high on your legs, along with hanging extra low on your chest.

You looked sexier than any lingerie model out there.

A fact the other two quite agreed with at the moment.

"Hel-lo," Charles smiled, shamelessly, Hank just silently staring.

"Watch it," Logan threatened, venom dripping from his tone as he shifted to stand in front of you, blocking your body from their view.

"You have no business being here," your brows furrowed as you grabbed the door, attempting to shut it. "Get lost."

"(n/n), I came to see you," Logan grunted, shoving his foot between the door and the frame. "Let me in."

"No!" you scoffed, pushing against the door to try and shut him out. "You don't get to do that! You don't get to leave for eight months and then waltz right back in my life like nothing happened!"

"I got into some shit, alright? Some really bad shit... I couldn't bring that back here."

"Then call! Or... Or write! Fuck! I would've been happy with a goddamn carrier pigeon!"

"I didn't have any of that crap—" "For eight months?!"

With a groan, he rolled his shoulder, giving the door a quick blow and knocking it open, forcing you back and allowing him in.

Quickly, you reached your hand out toward your philodendron, sprouting large vines and using them to grab Logan's wrists, holding him in place.

"(y/n), I don't have a lotta time," he grunted, struggling against their hold, to no avail, "Let me go..."

"For eight months," you started, voice small as you approached him, "I thought you were dead."

Logan halted his thrashing, turning to you with a softened look.

Your expression was now one of hurt rather than rage.

"I know the work you do... and after three months of nothing I started thinking the worst..."

You stopped in front of him, turning to the large array of plants carefully placed around the room, making the apartment look more like a greenhouse than anything.

"I used every damn plant in my range to try and find you... and when I got nothing, I knew that you were gone."

Suddenly, you poked a finger into his chest, eyes glazed with relief as you looked upon his face.

A face you'd never thought you'd see again.

"So no... you do not get to come back after all this time just to see me."

Slowly, your hold on his wrists began to loosen, and he lowered his hands, stepping forward to stand right in your space.

"You're a selfish... narcissistic... cocky son of a bitch, and—"

Logan suddenly snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"And?"

You swallowed thickly, staring up at him with your glassy, doe eyes.

"And I hate you."

He chuckled, leaning down to ghost his lips over your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

"I love you, too, dollface."

And before you could even retort, his lips were on yours, roping you right back into him.

The kiss was hungry... passionate. Like he'd been waiting a lifetime to get his hands on you again.

And he had.

Never in his wildest dreams did Logan ever believe he'd be able to kiss you again... to have you in his arms.

It was worth the detour and more.

Honestly, even if he didn't manage to save the world, he'd die a happy man.

With a gasp, you both broke away from the kiss, your chest heaving as you looked up at the man—who was looking down at you like you'd just hung the sun in the sky.

Slowly, his calloused hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.

"(n/n)... I'm gonna tell you some instructions, and you gotta trust me and follow them to the letter,, alright?" Logan started, seriously.

"What? Logan, what are you—?"

"Please," he pleaded. "I know you don't deserve the shit I put you through, but believe me when I tell you that you need to listen to what I have to say..."

Letting out a slow sigh, you agreed, nodding for him to continue.

"In a month, I want you to pack up your things. Your cloths, your plants, all of it, and travel up to Westchester County, New York," he explained, pulling a crumpled card out his jacket pocket. "Go to this address, and you'll find these guys."

He turned to point at Charles and Hank, who were still standing in the doorway, awkwardly.

"Hello," Hank waved, sweetly.

"They have a huge mansion... and you gotta stay there until I can find my way back."

"Find your way back?" you asked, confused, as you took the card from his hand. "Logan, I don't understand... I don't even know who these guys are..."

"You just have to trust me, doll," he assured, his free hand carding through your hair. "Besides, I don't like you bein' in the city by yourself, anyway—" "We really should be going now," Charles chimed, clearing his throat.

Logan let out a sigh, turning back to you and scanning over your face a final time.

God, you were so beautiful.

"Wait for me a little longer?" he asked, nervous.

But to his surprise, you smiled, your hand sliding down to hold his, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles.

"Against my better judgement..." you sighed, lightheartedly. "You better come back to me, Logan."

He cracked a grin, placing a feather-light kiss on your hairline.

"I always do."

bonus !! The three men didn't even make it halfway down the hallway before Logan turned to the two, his hardened expression a complete contrast from the smile he flashed you before he left.

"Listen up," he started, voice dangerously low. "Either of you try to make moves on my girl while I'm gone, I will personally come back and mount your head on a spike. Consequences be damned."

Quickly, Charles used what little power he had to scan over Logan's mind, checking to see if he truly meant what he said.

And he did.

In fact, he was so dead serious about the threat that it actually scared Charles quite a bit.

"Got it?"

Charles and Hank turned to each other, sharing the same knowing look.

"Yup."

"Absolutely."

[ruinix]

hi i’m just here to drop in and mention how bad Quinn wants to leave marks on your body. he doesn’t care where or how he just needs to see him on you at all times ya know?

Halloo, love, my lovely moot😚. I’m sorry it took me long. I blame my two braincells. They got distracted. [Also... i totally didnt try to repost this (i did, but it didnt happen...😭 sorry)] Here it is...ummm.... i think i have veered off in a different path. Sorry...🧎🏻‍♀️

CW/TW: 18+ MDNI, Smut or smut(ish), Sloppy kisses and Marking, Slightest bit of choking, Quinn being a love sick fool 🙂‍↔️

Count: 1449 words | Masterlist

One. Two. Three. Hmmm, that’s not right. Quinn swears he left you four marks on your neck…Why the fuck are you bundled up after all the hard work he did?

He could feel his irritation bubble up his throat, but he swallows it down—crossing his arms, eyebrows drawn—as he tracks your movement across the apartment. You’re doing miscellaneous cleaning, dusting here and there, dancing along with whatever music blasting in your headphones.

You look cute, really. Pretty and cozy in your matching sweatpants and your crewneck sweater. The colors are soft and makes your skin glow. The fit is oversized. You demanded that size when you got him to buy it—he bought five sets for you, because you rarely request something. You are even wearing your comfy and grippy socks. Adorable, really. Really—Fuck. What the fuck? Are you covering him—his marks—up? Didn’t you say you love them last night?

Before he could spiral, you finally notice him. Whatever complaints he has disintegrated to nothing. Your smile with the twinkle in your eyes takes his breath away. When you squeal and run towards him, his arms instantly drop, spreading to give in your hug. You smell like fresh laundry. Home. You smell like home. His home.

Quinn melts into your touch, head dipping where your neck and shoulders meet. His eyes dart from one mark after the other. Where is the other one?

 “Quinn, you’re home! How’s your day? How’s practice?” you ramble on, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“All good. I had fun,” he murmurs, slightly parting from you. “How’s yours?”

You happily recount your day—cleaning, work, watching a show, taking a good and satisfying bath. Quinn guesses that this day is for a nonlinear storytelling, which he has no complaints about. He could get lost in your voice, that’s like the soft patters of rain, like the soft breeze in summer, like the rustle of leaves, like soft chirps of birds. Your voice is like every calming tune of nature. Soothing. Nurturing. That’s what you do to his soul.

Mix that with how firmly your arms are wrapped around his torso, hands slipping into his shirt. They smoothen over his muscles, tracing his spine, causing shivers to run down his fucking soul. Oh, the effect you have on him, but that doesn’t appease him as it usually does. Not one bit—fine, maybe just slightly—because where the fuck is it?

While you talk about a grocery list, Quinn carefully rubs your arms and your shoulders. When he thumbs the column of your neck, you instantly pause, shuddering, breaths picking up. You look at him with wide eyes. The blush staining your cheeks deepens. Cute.

Quinn slips his thumb into your collar and tugs. He almost gets distracted with the goosebumps on your skin. Almost. Because there it is. The fourth mark. It’s just hiding under the edge. Still red and purple, the same shade as the other three. Still so beautiful on your skin. So fucking beautiful.

“Quinn?” you call, confusion etched in your face. “Did I lose you?”

Lose him? Never. You will never lose him. You’re stuck with him. He will chase you no matter where you go, stand beside you, hold your hands every step of the way.

You know that, but you’re still pouting. As second ticks, your confusion turns into annoyance. Your eyebrows furrow. You’re such a brat sometimes. It makes him want to kiss you, so he does. Your arms hook over his nape. The way your lips instantly part sends blood rushing down his groin. You’re always so eager, parting your thighs for his leg to step between.

“You ignored me,” you murmur, nipping at his lip. “You can’t ignore me.”

Fuck. That feels good.

“Not ignoring you. I heard everything you said,” Quinn whispers back in between kisses. “You know that, brat.”

He feels your smile, hears your giggle. He’s so fucked. Even that turns him on. With how your eyes shine, you know you had him in a chokehold. Well, he can have you in a chokehold too. Literally. So, he gives your neck a squeeze. A small whimper comes out your lips.

“Quinn.”

Your name spills out from his lips as a response.

You moan like he’s already fucking you, grinding your clothed cunt over his thigh. He pushes it up, letting you take all the friction you want.

When he goes for another kiss, your lips are already parted, tongue out, waiting for his. You beautiful siren. Quinn can’t hold in his growl as he meets it.

The kiss is sloppy, messy, and hungry. Your spits mixing. Your tongues lashing. Your teeth bumping and nipping each other’s lips. So different from the first one just a while ago. So different, yet utterly the same—full of love, lust, and devotion. So fucking good.

Quinn grinds his hard-on against you, raising his thigh to help you chase your high, but he stops. Not yet. You can’t come just yet. Your whines fill his ears as he parts from you. Tears threaten to spill as you try, try, and fucking try to get him to kiss you again. To get him to let you ride his thigh again. To get him to fuck himself on you.

You have to wait.

“Maybe,” he mutters against your lips, almost laughing when your tongue darts out to gaud him for another kiss. Little seductress. Quinn impatiently tugs on your sweatshirt. “Maybe you should get rid of this, yeah?”

He nearly preens when you nod—desperately and utterly wrecked. His hands shake as he helps you pull it off.

Fuck. You’re just wearing an almost-sheer crop top underneath. Your nipples are already taut, begging for him to touch, to kiss, to suck. Your low neckline showcases your beautiful skin littered with different shades of kiss marks. Some are old. Some are new. All his.

Yet. Not. Enough.

Not when there are still lots of blank spaces of skin to mark. Not when many of them are already fading. Not when you can still hide them. He doubts it will ever be enough. He just needs him on you.

His kiss marks.

Different from cum and spit which you—or he, depending on your mood—wash away.

Different from the occasional fingerprint bruises he leaves on your hips and thighs from holding you so tightly as he fucked you until you couldn’t stop cumming, until he’s left with watery cum or with nothing because your sweet pussy already sucked him dry.

Different because it shows the whole world how he worshipped you, your skin, your being.

Different but they always come one after another. He can’t have you all marked up with your pussy unsatisfied, can he? No. That’s not possible. An offence that he would rather die than commit.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes, grazing his knuckles over your ribs. His other hand tenderly holds our hips, keeping them pressed against his, not letting you do anything else. “So pretty.”

He nearly chokes on those words. He relishes the feel of your hands on his shoulders, fingers casually tugging the tips of his hair—a demand for him to stop fucking around.

Well, can you blame him for taking his time? He just loves you so much.

Then, your little tugs turn more desperate, fingers wrapping around his locks. You tug on his hair like you want to rip it off, but you would ease and scratch his scalp effectively seducing him.

But first, he needs to remedy his problem. He grips your arms, holding them against the wall, as he partakes on your skin. The way you surrender—when he starts sucking and adding marks on your neck, even craning it to give him more access—almost made him fall to his knees. Oh, he is essentially on his knees, because you are his love, his law, his Goddess. He is always kneeling for you. His existence is nothing without you now. He can only beg that you always be with him—of course, he will ensure that.

But he can’t be on his knees right now. How can he reach your neck then? How can he hold you up when you are melting with every suck and lick and kiss then?

Later, he can be on his knees. Later, when he needs to mark up your belly, your hips, your thighs, the creases between them that leads to your pussy, and your beautiful fucking ass. Later.

Right now, he needs to mark up your neck to show everyone—honestly, just him, fuck everyone else—that you are his and his alone.

[sturniololuvz]

a fic where sister reader (teen) is always tired and falls asleep everywhere (like a compilation) whether it’s on the boys or on the kitchen counter

cutee

“Sleeping beauty”

Sturniolos x sister

Being the triplets’ younger sister meant Y/N had inherited some of their chaotic energy. But lately? She was always tired. Like, ridiculously tired. To the point where she could—and would—fall asleep anywhere.

⸻

1. On Nick

Nick was editing on the couch, talking to Y/N about the video when he realized she hadn’t responded in a while.

“…Y/N?”

Silence.

He turned his head and saw her, fully asleep, curled up against his side like he was a damn pillow.

Nick sighed. “Dude.”

Still nothing.

He nudged her shoulder. “Hello?”

All he got was a sleepy hum before she snuggled in closer.

Nick rolled his eyes but didn’t move. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

⸻

2. On the Kitchen Counter

Chris walked into the kitchen, still half-asleep himself, only to stop dead in his tracks.

Because Y/N? Was sprawled out on the kitchen counter. Asleep.

Chris blinked. “Are you serious?”

Y/N didn’t respond.

Chris sighed, walking over and tapping her arm. “Yo, Sleeping Beauty, you good?”

Y/N groggily cracked one eye open. “Mmm. Tired.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “No shit.”

Y/N closed her eyes again. “Five more minutes.”

Chris sighed. “Whatever. Not my problem if you fall off.”

⸻

3. In Matt’s Bed (Uninvited.)

Matt walked into his room after a long day, ready to crash—only to find Y/N already passed out on his bed.

He groaned. “Dude, what the hell?”

Y/N barely stirred.

Matt ran a hand down his face. “You literally have your own bed.”

Still nothing.

Matt sighed and flopped down beside her. “Fine. But if you steal my blanket, we’re fighting.”

She didn’t respond, already too deep in sleep to care.

Matt rolled his eyes, pulling the blanket over both of them.

“Unbelievable.”

⸻

4. During a Video

The boys were filming a sit-down video, and Y/N had joined them on the couch.

Bad idea.

Because fifteen minutes in? She was gone.

Nick turned to her. “Dude, are you asleep right now?”

Chris poked her arm. “Y/N?”

Y/N barely moved, letting out a tiny sigh.

Matt snorted. “No way.”

Nick shook his head. “Alright, well—guess Y/N’s not in this video.”

Chris smirked. “Nah, leave it in. Let ‘em see how lazy she is.”

Y/N, still asleep, somehow managed to flip him off.

Matt lost it.

⸻

5. The One Time They Had to Physically Carry Her

The triplets were out getting food when Y/N, mid-bite of her fries, dozed off in the booth.

Chris noticed first. “Bro, no way she just fell asleep again.”

Matt sighed. “We can’t take her anywhere.”

Nick groaned, standing up. “Alright, let’s go.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Dude. She’s asleep.”

Nick crossed his arms. “Then we carry her.”

So, like the absolute simps they were, they ended up carrying their unconscious sister out of the restaurant and into the car.

Y/N didn’t wake up once.

Chris shook his head as he buckled her in. “She’s literally a toddler.”

Nick sighed. “Yeah. But she’s our toddler.”

Y/N was always tired.

And the triplets? Well… they just had to deal with it.

[twstedstoryshop]

FINALLY, I return properly. Kind of. Reason I've been away for so long was because of insane convention season and also had this bad boy in the works. This is one of two commissions done for a friend. Hope you all can enjoy yourselves for the crumbs I produce. -SK

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, violence, depressed s/o, and mentions of toxic past relationships.

Your New Boyfriends Runs Into Your Ex

While Rook Hunt was one of many to find camaraderie in a den of villains, that didn’t mean chivalry was dead to him. Certainly not him.

Under his keen gaze, he knew that when a certain topic was broached, you would shy away instantly. Paled knuckles, a panicked gaze, and your bottom lip near to splitting open by how badly you chewed down.

It was like he was seeing a rabbit or deer caught in a trap, frantic with no escape. Though his heart had been trained to a perfect steel and not feel for his quarry, when he sees that look in your eyes, all defenses fall away.

The topic? Well, the worries of what the future held for you. Moreso in far off days. Would you continue to have your friends by your side? Would someone ever cherish you? Have a deeper connection?

For Rook, it was a no-brainer because of course! Who else was more worthy of adoration and praise than his dear petite grâce? As he would declare this in all his usual grandeur, a small smile would form on your lips, but that happiness never reached your eyes.

Doubt clouded that sweet gaze of yours. In its own way, seeing such clear eyes be veiled by sadness was heartachingly beautiful. Yet it was a beautiful scene Rook couldn’t bear to behold for too long.

When it came to keeping track of you, Rook was extra considerate. If one can call it that… In his mind, he kept careful track of those you interacted with. He watched your mannerisms, your dialogue, anything amiss he would file it away. But for the longest time, it didn’t seem like an outside force was troubling you.

For a moment, Rook considered that whatever wounded your heart was a scar from a distant past he had yet to uncover. What he didn’t expect was said wound abruptly appearing on a normal day.

From a vantage point, perhaps from a second story window or among the trees that dotted the campus, Rook had caught sight of you stone-still on your walk. Before you, an NRC student he couldn’t recall. He didn’t really have time to register the man when Rook had just attention all on you.

Your wide, hollow eyes. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. How you froze so perfectly under the gaze of this man. It was a scene Rook was all too familiar with. Prey terrified beyond its own mind to run, to hide, or even fight.

Your rational mind couldn’t comprehend what your ex was even saying to you as panic held you in its overbearing clutch. The world grew dizzying and just when you felt like your heart would give out, right then and there, a broad arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Ah, there you are, ma petite grâce. I was looking all over for you. You made me a bit worried, you know!”

It was hard to look up at him as Rook’s hat was tipped just enough for the shadows to mask his features. But your ex needed only one glance for the role of prey to be forced on him. Green eyes with a gaze so sharp, so precise like a notched arrow perfectly aligned to fire, bored right into him.

It didn’t take much time before the ex backpedaled away with his tail between his legs, now only leaving you with Rook.

Rook would face you, gripping your forearms firmly. His expression, soft though. He called out for you, trying his best to snap you from your daze. When you finally realized it was him now before you, your body moved on its own before you could think. A heaviness made you fall against his chest. You shivered, maybe tears and sobs escaping you.

Rook held you so close against him. Like he was cradling a sculpture of the most delicate porcelain. As if one scratch or knock would crumble you into fine dust.

A single hand held the back of your head protectively, letting you weep as much as you wanted against his shirt. His chin nestled along your hair. You would be so blissfully unaware of Rook’s gaze. A complicated stare into space as his mind swam with many thoughts.

Rook always found beauty in the oddest of places. Yet for the first time, there was something Rook found utterly detestable. A vile image that was a blot in his picturesque vision and that was your ex, the source of your pain. But from that ugliness, he did find a most exquisite sensation. A drive to hunt. An unyielding need to protect you.

While he couldn’t spring into action earlier, his quarry was marked. A hunter is patient and he can wait as long as he needs to for one slip-up, one more attempt to dare get near you, and Rook would be sure to let loose a vicious arrow.

There is a tension between you and Floyd on certain days. While most times, it would be all fun and games, just him and his little Shrimpy. But Floyd wasn’t blind to the weight you carried.

It would irritate him on a dime when you obviously had thoughts clouding your mind. So much so that you fidget anxiously or not even pay attention to him. His sharp voice would call over the din of thoughts and you’d see the eel practically inches away from your face.

His dual colored eyes glared at you and a slight frown pulled at his lips. “Geez, what the hell is goin’ on with you!?” He doesn’t mean to be so crass, but to see his Shrimpy unsettled, it frustrated him. 

Moreso that he can’t exactly pinpoint what was going on with you, that he can’t just squeeze it to a pulp and boom, no more problems!

He knew you had your walls and such walls took time to lower to let him in. Floyd had the patience as a waiting moray eel, but if he had the proactiveness to actually act upon his patience? That’s a whole other story. When it came to you, he just wanted to see you happy and unbothered. All reasoning would flutter out the window.

It may or may not have taken a lot of squeezing and thinly veiled threats to your friends for them to fess up information you couldn’t bear to unload on Floyd. A common name would be passed around, an ex from your past. Just the thought that someone else had their hands on you nearly made Floyd break bones if not for the pitiful yelps of your friends to release them in time.

Questions whirled in that skull of his. Why have you never brought this up to him? What did this ex do to you that made you shy away from him? Where was this scumbag now? All of these worries would bleed into his daily life and if it weren’t for Jade and Azul to straighten him out, he would have been throwing tantrums left and right.

It wasn’t until one day that all his frustrations would come to a boiling point into a final, satisfying crescendo. At least for him.

Work was to be done at Mostro Lounge. Floyd was on duty to be a waiter along with yourself. Both of you have opted to be in an awkward silence in your relationship and it was evident by how you both avoided one another, unsure of how to really talk about your issues.

Floyd had taken an order from a particular student, one he could easily sniff out as a rude bastard by his mannerisms and his tones. But if Floyd’s temper got the better of him, he’d never hear the end of it from Azul. He would hand off the order to you to at least serve drinks.

Everything seemed normal until suddenly a glass shattered. All eyes shifted to you who shivered in place. The tray rattled in your hands and below you a cascade of broken glass.

“Y-you…” “The fuck…? What the hell are you doing here!? And look at what you did to my drink! You’re still incompetent as ever, tch!”

You wanted to cry, scream, run away. You felt so ashamed, being treated like garbage again from an ex you swore you’d never let walk all over you again. But at the height of stress, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up for yourself. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic…

That is until a sing-song, nonchalant voice slid right up behind you. “Ahhhh, what a shame. I apologize on the behalf of our lil waiter here. They’re just nervous is all. Here~ Why don’t I make it up to ya? I can serve ya a drink right here, right now. On the house~” “Finally, some decent fucking service…”

You looked up at Floyd and saw that dangerous glint in his eyes. How his pupils honed on the poor fool as his smile widened so tightly across his face. He reached for a spare glass that was left on the table, presented it with a flourish to your ex, and coyly said, “Readyyyy~? Watch carefully.”

Then, his hand flew so quick to grab a clump of your ex’s hair and slammed it squarely on the glass. The crunch of glass, your scream, and the screech of chairs being pushed back as patrons jumped.

“GYAHAHA, YOU LIKE IT!? IT’S MOSTRO LOUNGE’S OWN PERSONAL RED. Ahhhh, but the red comin’ from you? Pfft, it ain’t worth the shit under my shoe…” Your ex could barely register what was even being said to him from the glass embedded in his face and blood gushing from his nose and broken lips.

Hands covered your mouth in terror as you could barely register what was happening. From panicked students screaming to Azul and Jade holding Floyd back from beating the poor ex to a pulp. All you could really register was the horrifying satisfaction deep in your chest, seeing the one who hurt you so much battered under the hand of someone who protected you…

Leona has his own ways of caring but most of the time, if you cannot read between the lines, it may come off as uncaring.

He does care, but don’t expect a coddling man rushing to be your knight when you are feeling sorry for yourself. The last thing he wants to do is pity you as he knows all too well the humiliation of being pitied.

Instead he observes, he watches, he’s keen to everything you do that isn’t a part of your daily life. In sly ways, he tries to break your moments of dissociating. He calls your name sharply to snap you out of your funk and gives you a menial task.

Telling you to maybe preen his mane, join Ruggie on an errand, what have you. It’s better to keep yourself occupied than whatever is plaguing your mindscape.

Sometimes, he will even abruptly lean against you, his weight toppling the both of you over. Even if you protest under him, he will insist he’s really tired and just wants something warm beside him to help him sleep. In truth, it’s just another way to stop your self-deprecating thoughts.

Though he will speak up in annoyance if your depressed thoughts start to bleed into your relationship. It will sting, but he means well. He tells you gruffly that he’s not in the mood to lay next to baggage. He wants only his partner, dammit.

You may argue, you may not, it depends on how you react but at the end of it, one way or another, you’re going to have to face him and this problem that hangs over you.

If you take time before approaching him or spill everything in one go, he will wait patiently and listen. But cowardice by running away he won’t accept and would want answers promptly.

One way or another, the truth has to come from you and you explain the thoughts that coil around you like a petulant serpent. A name and face that digs into your chest horribly. Your ex and the ways he has hurt you in many ways.

Leona listens stoically, letting you share your story before acknowledging and commending the strength it took for you to finally admit this. He knows all too well the pains of the past, he shares in your frustrations. But the past stays in the past for a reason.

Now it’s you and him now. You define yourselves here in the present. If anyone says otherwise? Well, he’d like to see them try.

Who would have known that such a time would come so soon when one day, someone had the gall to start harassing you right in the Savanaclaw dorm.

That same face that always lingered around you like a ghost was here right now in the flesh, taunting you at the edges of the Spelldrive field. Your ex sneered at you, wondering what the hell you were doing around here during his practice hours. Had the nerve to accuse you of stalking him despite your split.

Your anger boiled your blood, your face flushed. Your nerves alighted with a burning fury that made the dorm’s dry heat pale in comparison. But your body did not respond to you. Your throat froze despite wanting to curse and yell out at your ex.

What neither you expected though while your mouth gasped for something, anything to throw at this scumbag, was a lion’s roar peeling across the field. A shadow loomed over your ex and both of you looked up to a silhouette blocking the sun and a pair of piercing green eyes.

Astride his broom, Leona stared squarely at the ex. “For a minute, I thought I heard annoying squawks from a mangy vulture, but now I just see a whelp. Having the nerve to approach my partner…”

Without missing a beat, Leona lowered himself to the ground and sauntered right over to your ex. Your ex tried to stand his ground but anyone could tell he was practically shaking in his spot.

“So.... What were you two talking about?” It was such a simple question. So trivial. But the way Leona spoke each word, it was like a pair of hungry jaws were ready to snap behind every syllable. He dared for your ex to slip up.

“N-nothing… Nothing at all… I was l-leaving…” “Hooo?” Leona’s tail whipped behind him in amusement. “So you just waltzed up to my partner and gawked at them? Nothing left your useless, flapping gums? I can hardly believe that.”

Leona’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his hand and for a quick second, you swore you saw wind and dust particles gather between his finger tips. The air felt still and you heard your ex gulp audibly from a dry throat. Then, a sudden calmness.

“But if you were just about to leave, then by all means, scurry along. I hate people wasting my time.”

To which your ex immediately did, turning on his heel, so close to make a run for it. Then, like a giant paw slamming atop a helpless mouse, Leona’s hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

“A warning since I’m feeling so generous today… Don’t ever let me catch you near them again. Ya hear me? Or else, I’ll make you a nice addition to the scenery. We could always add more sand and bones.” Leona cracked a toothy smirk with darkness in his eyes. His fangs glinted in the sun and it was then you truly realized the fierce lion you had taken in as your boyfriend.

[kingkat12]

seven minutes in hell (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, public sex(??), voyeurism, emotional extortion (Roman is such an ass omg), groping, foul language, smoking, angst, mentions of sex

summary: after you made out with Roman during a game of seven minutes in heaven, he insists that you owe him for not telling Letha about it-- how can someone so beautiful be so evil?

word count: 8,192 (yes I know lol)

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

a/n: after having my inbox flooded w sweethearts asking for a part two, here you go!! I do advise new readers to read the first one before this, because idk how much sense this is going to make without it lol, but enjoy!!<33

Paranoia. That was the only word that could describe the week that followed the party where Roman and I had kissed.

I had spent every waking moment wondering when Roman would show up to cash in his debt or prick me with a goddamn needle. His words lingered in my mind, haunting me; "Fine, I'll be nice. But you owe me," The reminder of those words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder how I could've been so stupid as to rope myself into something like this.

Roman knew I liked him. In fact, he knew it very well. I couldn't even mask my feelings with hatred anymore, and everything about that made me want to throw myself off a cliff-- that would probably be more merciful than whatever it was that I had in store. 

After we had made out during seven minutes of heaven, I had to tell my best friend, Letha, that nothing had happened. If she found out that I had made out with her cousin, I doubt she'd want to have me hanging around any longer. And quite frankly, Letha was my favourite person in the whole world, so it was detrimental that she stayed close. She was like a ray of sunshine peeking out through heaps of stormy skies; there was no way in hell I'd lose her without a fight.

Which is why I needed to keep Roman in check, along with my body un-pierced by any incoming needles. 

The first time I saw him after the party, was a few days later in the cafeteria at school. I had stopped in my tracks, completely turning to stone as I watched him with his friends. It was almost as though I was afraid he'd see me if I moved, and to my shock, that's exactly what happened-- as I shifted my weight from one foot to another, harshly gripping my tray of food, his eyes landed on me with a quickness that immediately threw me into a state of panic. I bolted with speed I didn't know I had, not stopping until I reached the other end of the school, panting. 

The second time had been at the library. I had been looking for a specific book that was quite old, meaning I had to do a lot of searching-- the librarian had been of no help, of course. As I scoured the shelves of endless books, crouching down to get a look at the lower sections, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me from above.

I looked up to find Roman's green eyes staring at me from the other aisle; his height made it ridiculously easy to lean over, having no visual obstruction of my side of the shelf. Something about the smirk playing across his lips made me freeze up-- it felt like I was prey, about to be eaten whole. I let out a squeak of horror as I grabbed the first book I saw, not letting him get a word in before I dashed towards the exit without a second thought.

The third time was the absolute worst; I had been walking down the stairs with Letha, on our way to our shared history class, as we suddenly encountered Roman on his way up. I felt my heart beat against the books I now pressed tightly against my chest, holding my breath as he neared us with a conniving look on his face-- I was quite sure I had lost all the blood in mine.

As Roman and Letha had a conversation about some sort of family dinner later, I did my best to make myself as small as possible; I wondered whether I should slip away into the crowd or just throw myself down the stairs. 

I was quite sure that it was clear to Roman why I was avoiding him, and I was even more sure that it also was amusing to him. It was rather obvious, with the way he obnoxiously eyed me up with a growing grin. "You okay?" he asked, nudging me. "You look spooked."

Asshole. Just the slightest touch was enough to make me flinch, and my words came out in a breathy mumble; "I'm fine," 

Roman nodded, exchanging a look with Letha. He grew taller when he took a step up, inching closer as he leaned over to check which books I had pressed up against my chest. His long, slender fingers reached forward to tug at one of the books to get a better look, and I would've missed the note he slipped down along the front of my history book if I had blinked. As Roman pulled away, dragging his fingers through his hair as though nothing had happened, I held my books as tight to my chest as I possibly could to not let the note slide down to the floor. 

My heart was beating harder than ever as Roman made his way past me, his familiar cologne lingering in my system as Letha and I made it to class five minutes early. As she left to use the bathroom, I could finally put away my things, inhaling a shaky breath as I checked the note;

meet me behind school in an hour, or I tell Letha everything

I couldn't help the groan that escaped me, ripping the piece of paper to shreds. This was not going to end well.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Somehow, I had managed to pry myself away from Letha for long enough to make it in time for my meeting with Roman. I was tugging at the sleeves of my jumper, anxiously ripping at the fabric. Wondering whether I should've worn protective gear to shield myself from any needle-kinks he might impose on me, I trembled with fear-- I didn't want to see him. 

Despite my wishes, Roman eventually came around the corner, a rather mischievous smirk spread across his soft, pink lips as he neared me. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he leaned against the wall next to me, his green eyes etching themselves into my skull. His usual cardigan was draped around his shoulders and over his white shirt, tied in the front, as he crossed his long legs in the classic Roman Godfrey stance. "I'm glad to see you came,"

"As if I had a choice," I mumbled, glancing at our surroundings, not wanting to be caught alone with him here. I had to do everything in my power not to look at the casual swoop of his hair, not wanting to think about how handsome he looked right now. "What do you want?"

Roman blinked twice, almost as though he had expected me to say something else. "Isn't it obvious?"

I was afraid my heart was pounding audibly in my chest. "No," My gaze darted down to my shoes, kicking away a nearby rock. "Can't we just forget any of it ever happened?"

"Well, that was sort of the draft of the original plan," Roman said, shrugging. "But you've clearly not been able to forget it, with the way you've been avoiding me for a week now... So it seems we have to resolve this, somehow."

Did this mean that I had only made things worse for myself? I wanted to hit my head against the wall and bleed out-- that would probably feel better than what I was feeling on the inside right now. "The actual kiss hasn't been on my mind much... Mostly just the needles,"

Roman let out a huff-- was it a laugh? "I'm not going to fucking poke you, could you calm down about that?"

"I can't be sure when it comes to you, Roman!--"

"So you haven't thought about it?" He cut me off, eyes sparkling with the need to know. "The kiss?"

If I'd had something to throw at him, I would've done so in a heartbeat. Why was he so keen on knowing that? "Not much,"

"Only at night?"

I couldn't even hold back my grimace, listening to him snickering like a proud toddler. "Definitely not," I grumbled, now kicking at another rock. "Why does it matter to you?"

Roman shrugged; "I don't think you understand how intriguing it was to find out you've liked me all this time," He watched as I continued to tug at the sleeve of my sweater, looking like a nervous wreck. The image before him made his grin widen. "You've been the biggest bitch ever, do you know that? I was dead sure you hated my guts until you begged me to fucking kiss you!"

"I didn't beg!" I exclaimed, protesting. "In your fucking dreams, Roman!"

He rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. Feeling his presence inching closer, I stopped kicking the scattered rocks around me, looking up to meet his gaze.

Roman leaned down, matching himself on the level of my widening eyes. He studied me as I froze to my spot like an icicle, holding my breath to not get swept up in thoughts of how good he smelled and how soft his lips looked up close. "You're still running your mouth," he mumbled,  and I felt his eyes fall on my lips as well. "I thought you might get a little nicer if I complied with your little kiss."

His way of thinking had me furrowing my brows, confused. Was that why he kissed me? A tiny piece of my heart broke, the hope I had buried deep in my gut dissolving. Why had I ever hoped that his reasons for kissing me the way he did had been different? "I'll be nice if you agree that I don't owe you anything anymore. It's been driving me nuts,"

With this, Roman broke out into a rather abrupt laugh; "Are you kidding? There's no way in hell I'd absolve you of that, anymore,"

The laugh felt so damning, I couldn't help but shudder. I was two seconds away from kicking him instead of the rocks. "What do you want, then?"

Roman straightened up, the look on his face giving away that he was debating what to choose. "It's probably not something as bad as you expected it to be," he said, nodding to himself as he no longer met my hard gaze. "I'd just like it if you told me why you like me."

What? I stared up at him in disbelief, lips parting in shock. Had I avoided him like the plague over a simple question? Sure, it wasn't the most comfortable one to answer, but my mind had already concluded that he would stick me with needles like a voodoo doll and leave me for dead on a road somewhere.  "Uh... Could I ask why?"

"Nope,"

I nodded; "Okay...?" Clearing my throat, I pondered where to start. I hadn't actually thought about this question, and I had to scour my brain for the answer. "I don't know," I eventually mumbled. "I guess I just think you're handsome." Saying it out loud physically pained me, but I knew I had to get this over with.

Roman blinked twice, meeting my gaze with a rather empty look about him. "That's it?"

"I don't know? I think so," I shrugged, searching through my mind for more. "You're my type, I suppose. Tall, brown hair, green eyes... And unattainable. I guess that a part of me likes that you'll never like me back." Saying this out loud, however, was even worse. I hadn't thought about it like that up until this moment.

Roman seemed even more confused than I did. "So it was nothing that I did?"

Something told me he was searching for something more meaningful, but I had always known that my crush was superficial. "I don't think so..."

What followed would haunt me for days on end; Roman broke out into a rather maniacal laugh, running his hands through his hair in clear denial. "So it's just the same, then," he said in between hiccups of laughter. "It's not about me at all!"

I could only watch as he went into some sort of a mental storm, biting down on his lower lip to suppress the noise. "I don't think you quite understand how it is for no one to like you for you," Roman continued, now pacing back and forth as his trail of words sped up; "You've probably never had that problem, right? Guys probably like you because you're nice to them, I've seen that multiple times. Or that one guy that just hasn't left you alone since you sat together during assembly that one time-- what the fuck was his name?"

I held my breath; what on earth was I witnessing? "Roman, I think you're spiraling, let's just breathe--"

"Daniel, wasn't it?" Roman finally looked back at me, a cramped smile on display along his lips. "He definitely likes you for you, right? Not just because you're cute? That must be fucking nice." 

I had never imagined that I would pity someone for only being liked for their looks. Somehow, I found myself wanting to comfort him, and I had to fight that instinct. "It would probably be easier for you to find something real if you weren't such a prick," I mumbled. "If you didn't tug people's hair, throw stuff at them, or stab them with needles?"

That seemed to be enough for Roman to take a step back from his weird state, his pacing coming to a halt. Something seemed to be dawning on him, a crushing realization that should've come about ten years ago, but instead of taking it like an adult, he retaliated; "Well, you're not exactly doing any better than me! You've liked me for God knows how long, and you've treated me like utter crap!"

"Because you did the same to me!" I said, feeling my voice raise with my emotions. "You've had no interest in me, along with all the bullshit you've pulled all year! Don't you think it would probably be easier for me to like you for who you are if you had been a pleasant person to be around?"

Groaning, Roman turned his back to me, ready to walk away. After taking a few steps, he turned on his heel, facing me once more. Fury was burning in his green, green eyes, fists balling up as he spoke; "This is not over. You tell anyone just a tiny fraction of this conversation, I'll tell Letha I fucked you raw," 

My jaw fell in complete and utter shock as he walked away, cursing myself to the heavens and beyond. How had I managed to make this an even bigger mess than it was before I came? As I went back to kicking rocks, trying to catch my breath, bits of the conversation suddenly came back to me; did he just say that I was cute? That he had seen me with Daniel during assembly, and that he had spotted me talking to my previous flings?

This only made everything furthermore confusing; it was obvious that he didn't like me, either. But what on earth was going on in that brain of his?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next time I saw Roman was a few days later in the hallway during rush hour. I had spent several nights tossing and turning, trying to decrypt the conversation that continued to haunt me. The conclusion I arrived at, was that he might be lashing out with the needles and the childish behaviour because he didn't know how else to express interest. 

But then again, that would mean that he was very interested in me. I was sure something was wrong with that conclusion, but I couldn't pinpoint any other possible theory at this moment. I also couldn't shake how upset he looked when he found out my crush was purely superficial; was his need to be seen for who he was so overpowering?

So when I finally flagged him down, Roman was in a rush, and this was rather unfortunate; my legs were much shorter than his, and I had to go into a jog to not lose sight of him. Eventually, I caught up to him, grabbing his wrist and tugging at the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention.

Roman seemed rather confused, glancing down at me with a wild look in his eyes which quickly died out when he saw who it was. "What are you doing?--"

"You smiled at me in class," I confessed, feeling my cheeks redden. "The sun was hitting your eyes in a way that made them extra green, and you smiled at me and handed me a pencil. That's when I knew I liked you." Slowly, I pried my fingers away from his wrist, letting out the breath I didn't know I had been holding. It felt like an enormous weight had lifted off my shoulders, like the anxiety that clung to me had been washed away in a calm stream of water in the mountains.

Why did I feel such a strong need to tell him my crush wasn't purely superficial? That it had stemmed from the simplest act of kindness? I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Did I pity him that much? 

Roman's pupils expanded, and he stood as if glued to his spot. People kept passing us by, but it was as though all the surrounding sound died out. It was clear that his mind was racing, his brows drawing together in confusion-- or was it disgust? I couldn't be sure. Either way, my heart was thumping so hard in my chest that it hurt. 

I cleared my throat; "Have... a nice day," Before he could answer or make fun of me, I turned on my heel and bolted down the hall, knowing my heart wouldn't be able to take it if he shut me down once more. 

I couldn't take any more of this. Clutching my heart as I made it to my locker, I knew I had to get ready for class and that I didn't have time for the crushing feeling taking over my chest. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

A big part of me had hoped that our last interaction would be the end of it all. That I wouldn't have to owe Roman anything anymore, that he wouldn't be threatening to tell Letha that we kissed or fucked or whatever-- I should've known that was an unattainable reality. 

I was practically falling asleep at the end of a long day of school. Exhausted, I allowed myself to close my eyes as I leaned my head against my palm, elbow at my table, waiting for class to start. A worrying thought popped into my head as I realized that chemistry was the only class I shared with Roman, which meant that he would probably be showing up any time soon. 

With a yawn, I blinked several times, hoping to wake up as I sat back in my chair. I was about to do some stretches, but as I turned to my right, I let out a yelp, nearly falling off my seat.

And I would've fallen right down to the floor if Roman hadn't grabbed the edge of my chair, holding me back with one hand as though it was nothing. "Careful, there," 

That's exactly what he had said when we were in that damn closet playing seven minutes in heaven. I shivered, getting a severe case of deja vu as I looked back at him in disbelief. "When on earth did you show up?"

"Right around the time you nodded off," Roman's books were already on the table-- had I genuinely slept for a minute or two? How could I have missed this? He let go of my seat with a snicker, shaking his head; "You're quite the case, aren't you?"

I didn't like the sound of that. "What do you want? Why are you sitting here?"

"Could you relax?" Roman rolled his eyes, his mood worsening by the second. "Look around, Sherlock, there's nowhere else to sit."

It pained me to realize he was right. With a huff, I fought the urge to kick him under the table. As the teacher finally entered the classroom, excusing himself for being a few minutes late, I let out a sigh of relief; I hoped to avoid talking to Roman as much as possible from now on. After I had confessed to him and gotten nothing in return again, I was dead tired of seeing his gorgeous face-- it was physically painful, at this point.

As class started, I reached into my bag to find a pencil. A good minute passed by as I rummaged around, which eventually garnered Roman's attention; he immediately knew what I was looking for. He turned to me with a spare pencil which he had lying about on his table, holding it out in front of me.

Someone up there was definitely playing pranks on me-- I was sure of it now. With an embarrassed smile, I watched as the sun hit the green of his eyes, illuminating them further as I reached for the pencil. The tips of our fingers touched, just for a few seconds, but it felt like I had almost burned myself with how my nerves reacted to the nudge of his hand against mine. 

Roman seemed to understand the irony of the situation, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a dizzying look of kindness. 

There it was. The root of all my problems-- the simplest act of warmth along with the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. The bullshit that started it all. 

I hummed to myself as I broke eye contact, crouching over my table to start taking notes, desperate to distract myself. Every fibre of my being felt like it was buzzing with electricity, unable to calm down. 

It didn't take long before Roman shoved a small note onto my part of the table. I gave him a look before I opened it, sighing.

we need to talk. meet me by my car after school

Turning to Roman, I couldn't help but glare; this again? But his smirk melted me in more ways than one, and I knew that it could have consequences if I didn't go. 

Fuck.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I waited until there were almost no cars in the parking lot in front of the school, hiding away in the library in the meantime. I didn't exactly want to be seen talking to him. As I finally walked out past the front entrance, I held my breath as I spotted Roman leaning against his red jaguar, typing away on his phone. I wondered who he was texting-- was it Brooke from the cheerleading team? No, it couldn't be; unless she still wanted to be with him after he pricked her with the legendary needle.

It didn't take long for Roman to put away his phone, watching me as I neared him. Something about the way his hair lay in waves over his forehead made him look like even more of a heartbreaker than he already was. "Long time no see, hm?"

I didn't even want to fake being entertained by that-- we both knew that we'd seen each other in class less than twenty minutes ago. "What do you want?"

Roman rolled his eyes; "Can't you at least act like you like me? We both know you do,"

Something about being called out like that didn't sit right with me, but I swallowed my curses. I had to be on his good side, after all, so that he wouldn't turn around and tell Letha what had happened between us. "Did you want me to come skipping down the stairs and run to you?" I asked, getting a good look at him. "Or maybe a blowjob before I bake you a pie?"

A humoured smirk spread across his lips, giving in to a chuckle. "You could at least start by standing a little closer?" Roman put his hands up in the air as though he was surrendering; "Look ma, no needles!"

I huffed, complying. I took a few steps forward, watching the last car leave in my peripheral view. It was definitely not a good idea to be alone with him like this-- I should've known better. 

This didn't seem to be enough for Roman, who proceeded to tap the spot next to him on the hood of his car. 

I groaned; "Roman, come on--"

In a swift motion, he hooked his fingers inside my front pockets, dragging me forward as I yelped. Roman grabbed my hips, forcing me down on the car with a soft thud. With wide eyes, I turned to him, watching his hands disappear back into his pockets. 

"You're infuriating," Roman mumbled under his breath, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his right pocket. He held it out in front of me; "Want one?"

Honestly, I had only smoked once. It had resulted in me coughing up what felt like half a lung. "No, thanks," 

He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette as he hummed. This little dance around why he had told me to come made me further nervous, once again reaching for the sleeve of my sweater, tugging at the seams that had come loose. The smell of nicotine infiltrated my nose, and I turned to him just in time to watch him exhale a few rings of smoke, eyes transfixed on them as they evaporated into thin air. 

Finally, Roman spoke up; "I'm calling for a truce,"

What? My eyes widened, scanning him for lies. "... What's the catch?"

Roman turned to me, a slight smile splayed across his lips. "You know me too well," he said, chuckling as a light breeze passed us. "I want us to play a game, and then all is forgotten."

"Oh no," I blurted out. "What kind of game, Roman? Can't you take pity on me just once?--"

I immediately shut up as I felt his arm wrap around me, holding out his cigarette in front of my mouth between his fingers. I wasn't about to start fighting him in an empty parking lot, so I parted my lips, accepting the cigarette despite knowing I would cough up everything I had eaten for lunch if I inhaled properly. 

Roman's face was suddenly very close to mine; "Ever heard of this game... Wait, what was it called? Seven minutes in hell?"

For fuck's sake. I watched as he laughed, amused by his joke. Still, my eyes darted down to his bouncing leg, watching as he gave away a sliver of nervousness. I reached for the cigarette, getting it out of my mouth; "Sounds about right," Balancing it between my fingers, holding it out in front of his mouth just as he had done to me, Roman hummed as he wrapped his lips around the cigarette, taking a puff.

Before Roman could take it back into his hand, I pulled the cigarette away from him, putting it back into my mouth. Something about sharing the cigarette was making a familiar ache between my legs throb, which in turn made me cross my legs. I didn't inhale the smoke into my lungs, keeping it in my mouth before breathing it out, knowing it was hard to differentiate between that and the real thing. "Where would we play?" I eventually said, glancing at him.

Now that we were sitting like this, Roman's arm around me, I realized we hadn't been this close since that party where we had kissed. Something about his embrace was comforting, despite me knowing that he was doing it to take the piss out of me. However, my steadfast belief in his reasons became shaky as I met his eyes, watching how unusually big his pupils were as he looked down at me, a certain calmness about him. "My car?"

I couldn't help but giggle as I handed him the cigarette, our fingers meeting in the exchange. "I'm not making out with you in your car,"

"Why not?"

"Every single cheerleader slut at this school has been in the back of that thing," 

Roman shrugged; "Not everyone. Eleven out of fifteen,"

"Ew, you're not making it any better!--"

"Fine!" he huffed, giving me a squeeze with the arm he had around me. Roman put out his cigarette by throwing it to the ground, giving it a proper stomp before he turned to me, a mischievous smirk on display. "No one has been in the front, though."

It was hard to say no when he looked at me like this; how was it possible for someone so conniving to be so beautiful? I had to look away from Roman-- it was getting impossible to breathe. Tugging at my sleeves once more, I realized I had ripped out a new seam. "Look, I have to say I'm a little confused... You're not even into me, so I don't get why you'd want to kiss me again," I let go of my sweater, realizing I would probably manage to rip it all apart if I didn't calm down. "It really is a power thing for you, isn't it?"

Roman hummed, rubbing my arm in a soothing manner as he stared out at the parking lot with a rather hollow look in his eyes. "Yeah... That's definitely what it is,"

I didn't have time to wonder why he didn't sound so convinced. As I dared to look at him again, I watched him lost in thought, pondering something. I took that as my cue to get out of playing his game; "Making out would probably be fun and all, but don't you think it is more beneficial for you if we maybe got to... I don't know, know each other?"

Confused, Roman's gaze darted back to me. "Why?"

"You seemed to be a little upset that I didn't like you because of you, remember?" I gave him a playful nudge, drawing forth a smile. "Instead of imposing your weird dominance kink or whatever it is on me, wouldn't you want to prove that there's more to you?"

This seemed to strike a chord with Roman, who slowly started to nod in approval. "That... doesn't sound so bad,"

I damn right hoped so-- I let out a shaky breath, relieved to not become the twelfth girl to end up in Roman's car.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I couldn't believe that I had managed to fix myself up with a date with the Roman Godfrey. He was practically known for never going out on dates with anyone, but here I was, running around my room trying to find something nice to wear.

However, there was one tiny hoop I had to get through-- Letha was on speaker phone as I rummaged through my drawers, and my heart was racing as I tried to avoid her questions."I still don't get why you can't hang out today!" Letha whined, clearly upset with me. "I thought you were going to help me pick out some shoes down at the sale!"

I grimaced, feeling like the biggest prick on the planet. "I'm sorry, Letha, I'm just not feeling too good..." With a heavy heart, I could hear her sulk on the other end as I finally found the perfect bag. 

"I've barely seen you this week... You've been so jumpy, I just feel like you're avoiding me. Did I do something?"

No, no! I was about to protest until I heard a sound coming from my driveway; I made my way to my window, glancing down at Roman's red car, watching as he parked. Clearing my throat, I rushed to my phone; "Letha, I'm so fucking nauseous, I think I need to throw up... I'm so sorry, could I call you back later?"

I heard her sigh; "Get better soon, okay?--"

As Roman started honking outside, clearly impatient, I had to leave the call without even saying goodbye. Groaning, I gathered my stuff, making my way down the stairs and outside with hurried steps. "Stop that!" I said, trying to steady my breathing as I approached the car. "My parents are inside!"

"So what?" Roman's cocky smirk was on display as always, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Whatever dumb fuck told you I'm a patient man, is a dumb fuck." Roman got out of his car to open my door on the other side. It was nice to see that he had a gentleman bone in him-- it gave me hope that this date wouldn't crash and burn. 

And weirdly enough, it actually went quite well. I had been worried that he'd take me out shooting or whatever it was that he did in his free time, but Roman settled for something simple-- we were currently sat in my favourite café in the city, having the most normal conversation we'd ever had. 

"You're kidding me?" Roman said, putting down his coffee with a look of shock on his face. "You've never seen The Godfather?"

I couldn't help but huff-- this was a solid reminder that he still was a guy at the end of the day. "I haven't gotten to it, I guess,"

"Well, you have to!" He ran his fingers through his styled hair, shaking his head in disapproval. Roman was wearing a different shirt today that I hadn't seen before, and I was getting the feeling that he had actually dressed up a bit despite how casual this date was. "What else haven't you seen?" 

"Uh, I don't know?--"

"What else haven't you done, is probably a better question," Roman was grinning from ear to ear now, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "First kiss?"

"David Parker, eighth grade," I put down my milkshake with a smirk, happy to be sizing him up. "You?"

Roman seemed beyond amused; "Amanda Reiley, sixth," He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, intrigued that I wasn't backing down from his intrusive questions. "First time?"

I had to suppress a cough, feeling as though I was choking on air. There was no way in hell I'd tell him I hadn't had sex yet. "... Some guy I met on vacation last year in Greece, don't remember his name,"

"Really, now?" Roman hummed, leaning back against his chair. "Not buying it. You squirm like a virgin every time I look at you."

My breath caught in my throat-- "Pardon?"

It seemed that my reaction only amused him, but he still spared me by brushing over it. "My first time was with Denise Campbell, ninth grade. Was really sweet, actually,"

I tried to shake off the fact that Roman had been right in his deductions. The story of his first time was unexpected, and he had been quite young-- concerningly young. "Roman Godfrey and sweet don't usually go together, in my book. Did you light candles or something?" I took a sip of my milkshake, watching him break out into a smile. 

"Honestly? I think she lit one," he said, a soft chuckle following.

 I had forgotten how beautiful his laugh was. Flustered, I put away my milkshake, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I met his gorgeous, green eyes. There was a calmness about him now, something I had trouble getting used to. It was a big contrast to the way he had looked at me while we played seven minutes in heaven, or the way he had been looking at me the whole week I had avoided him. The usual feeling of unease that crept up my system whenever he was around was long gone-- it was almost as though we were friends. 

Nervous about my next question, I started picking at my nails; "So where did it go wrong?"

"Pardon?"

I didn't meet his gaze anymore. "When did it become casual to you?"

"Sex?"

"Sex,"

Roman hummed, taking a rather long sip of coffee. I wondered whether I had gone too far with the question, but he didn't seem fazed. "Didn't get too far with being sweet, I suppose,"

This was definitely a chapter in Roman's life that I hadn't expected to hear about-- who had broken his heart? And why was it comforting to know that he'd had that experience? Something about it made him more human. "That's sad," I mumbled, forcing myself to leave my nails alone. "Sweet usually gets you quite far."

Something about that seemed to intrigue him; he moved to the edge of his chair, closer. "Don't you girls usually like the bad guys? That seems to work well, in my experience,"

I shrugged; "It can be fun for a week or two. Any longer than that, and your heart starts to tire,"

"Ah," was all Roman said, tapping his fingers against the table in an impatient manner. "Would you want to get ice cream? It's on me."

This conversation was starting to give me whiplash. "I'm sold," I eventually answered, shooting him a smile. It was nice to know that he wanted to continue the date despite my intrusive questions-- I couldn't lie; I was rather enjoying myself. And my ego was getting the biggest inflation it'd had in a while, remembering he didn't usually go out on dates at all.

About half an hour later, we were now walking down the street with our ice cream, once again debating why I hadn't watched The Godfather-- boys really love that movie, don't they? I took the liberty of looking up at him as he explained the plot to me in excessive detail, watching his hands flail around in excitement as he spoke, eyes round and green, and the way a single strand of hair lay in front of his eyes, straying from his stylings.

The man I had hated this whole year suddenly became a person to me. A person with interests, quirks, and feelings-- weirdly enough. Roman didn't come off as a spoiled brat right now, and I could barely remember a time when I would run away from him and his needles. Like this, I could imagine sweet moments with Roman, possibly even holding his hand as we walked down this street, doing normal stuff together. 

In another lifetime, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

However, I was quickly yanked out of my daydreams when I spotted a familiar figure leaving the shoe store across the street. With a panicked yelp, I grabbed Roman, dragging him down the nearest alleyway as I felt my blood run cold. 

Roman looked beyond confused; "What are you?--"

"Letha!" 

His mouth formed an 'o', watching me press myself up against the wall. "She doesn't know?"

I shook my head, letting out a shaky breath. This was definitely not what I needed right now. If she found out I was here with Roman and that I had lied to her, I was sure she'd have my head. Why couldn't I just melt into the wall and become immaterial? 

With ease and calm, Roman grabbed my finished ice cream, putting it down on the ground along with his own before nearing me. "We'll wait it out,"

What? "Thought you were ready to rat me out?" I leaned forward, glancing past the corner of the alley, making sure Letha hadn't seen us. 

"Well..." Roman put his hand on my shoulder, guiding my back to the wall once more. "I know she'd kill you, and you can't die before watching The Godfather."

Had I not been preoccupied with being quiet, I would've groaned right in his cocky face. The hand he had on my shoulder burned against my skin, and I was getting flashbacks to our time in the closet at the party where we had kissed. "I've repaid my debt to you now, anyway," I mumbled, warily glancing past the edge of the corner where we were standing, watching Letha from afar. 

Roman's hand on my shoulder quickly made its way into my hair, fingers twisting themselves into the nape of my neck, forcing me to face him. I let my breath escape me as my lips parted, watching him with big, wide eyes; what was happening? It was at this moment that I realized how close he was standing, how he was practically pressed up against me.

There was something sinister about the look on Roman's face-- it suddenly dawned on me that he was still the same person, even though he had buried this side of him for a few hours. He would always thrive when seeing someone in an anxious state, feel joy at any visible conflict or misery, and it dawned on me how bad of a situation this was when his next words came out in a dangerous whisper; "I could just call her over here, do you know that?" Roman's grip on my hair tightened, almost enough to make me wince. "You've made quite a mess of yourself, sneaking behind her back. I could ruin you in a second."

"You won't, though," Fucker.

Intrigued, Roman's green eyes sparkled; "And why are you so sure of that?"

My chest was heaving against him, hating every second, every minute of this encounter. When had he turned into such a sadist? Was it after Denise Campbell in ninth grade? I wanted to make sure I asked him that next time. "Because this gets you high," I hissed. "This feeling that you get from watching me get scared? You're addicted. You're a fucking junkie." 

I felt Roman breathe out against my lips, leaning closer, eyes burning into mine. I could see the flickering flames in them, and I knew that I had set them alight-- I was quite literally playing with fire at this point. "Well, this is who I am," he said through gritted teeth. "Do you get it now?"

"Get what?"

"Why no one likes me," Now, the fire died out, turning into an unintelligible emotion swimming in the green of his eyes. I didn't need to be a specialist to understand that he was baring his coping mechanism for me to see. "Why no one ever will. And why you will go back to hating me once we're done here."

It felt as though I had finally finished a puzzle with five thousand pieces. This was it. Had Roman made himself so unlovable to protect his feelings? Were all his stupid quirks just means to scare away girls so that they would stop liking him? I couldn't help but pity him-- beneath his harsh exterior, I could sense who he was beneath all of it. In a flash of emotions, I reached out to touch his face with a wary, gentle touch. 

Roman's eyes widened, confused, as I moved away the strand of hair that strayed from the rest.

"I know you said this wouldn't be easy," I said, voice soft. "Whatever would ensue between us. And I spent a lot of time thinking about that, actually, and I think the answer is that you just make it hard for yourself." Sighing, I let my hands rest against his shoulders, watching his every move and reaction. It was obvious that he was caught off guard. "I pity you, Roman. But I thank you for making me realize how much guts one must have to feel... Why are you so scared?"

Roman just stared at me, his breathing coming out in shallow breaths through his nose. He stood as if frozen to his spot, and his hand left my hair, falling to his side as his eyes never left mine. "I'm not scared," he eventually said.

"You're terrified,"

"No,"

"There's no point denying, it's really fucking obvious--"

"No, it isn't!" Roman snarled, grabbing my hands, and prying them off of him. "Maybe I just don't like you in that way, have you ever considered that?"

I shrugged; "I have. But it still doesn't change the fact that I can read the fear on your face like an open fucking book,"

Groaning, Roman let out an exasperated sigh. He let go of my hands, the fury apparent in his unsteady breathing. It was obvious that he had never confronted his issues head-on, and that he didn't like the process one bit. "You need to watch your mouth,"

"Or what?" It was as though my fear had escaped me, staring him down with challenge burning its way through my veins. "You're going to tell Letha we fucked or whatever? Go ahead, see what I care! Just know that I will be telling the whole school that your dick is smaller than my pinky if you do."

Roman's eye twitched as he let out a guttural growl, body tensing up as he balled his fists, one of them returning to my hair. It was clear that I had angered him; he grabbed a fistful, yanking my head upward with a force that made me wince, pulling me flush against him. It was at this moment that I felt something press up against my stomach-- my eyes widened with the realization that he was hard. "Do you still like me?" he asked, his breath tickling the underside of my nose. 

When I refused to answer, Roman took my silence as a yes. "You're going to hurt yourself if you continue to,"

"Wasn't it you who proclaimed me a masochist?" I answered, a smirk forming on my lips. Something told me that I had him cornered. 

And I was right-- it was Roman's turn to go silent, staring into my eyes as multiple emotions flashed before him. Standing like this with him was almost comforting; I had finally deciphered him. I knew that he had practically built himself a fortress of hate and fired the canons at any signs of intrusions. He was so desperately human right now-- it was making me dizzy. Or was that just his harsh grip on my hair? 

"Roman?"

A hum.

"You can kiss me now if you want to,"

The hand in my hair loosened its grip, and I watched as Roman inhaled a long breath, no longer conflicted.

And so our lips came together in the alley, a rather hungry kiss ensuing. My hands went up into Roman's hair, letting out soft gasps against him as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him with a burning need. I could taste the remnants of the chocolate flavoured ice-cream on his tongue, the sweetness mixing in with the roughness of our kiss. I wondered whether he could taste the vanilla on mine-- chocolate and vanilla were my favourite mix, anyway.

I knew there was a possibility of Letha spotting us if she walked our way, but it only made me more desperate for Roman. I had missed him dearly, the memories of our last kiss having haunted me through every hour of every day. There was no doubt in it now-- he wanted me too. It gave me such an immense rush, along with the satisfaction of feeling how hard he was against me, the throbbing of his cock continuing against my stomach as he pressed me further into the wall behind me. Something felt wrong about him being aroused after our fight, especially now that we were practically in public, but I knew I didn't want to push him away just yet. 

I was completely breathless by the time Roman shifted, his thigh now pressing up against the apex of my own. Caught off guard, I whimpered as he grabbed my hips, moving my hips against him as the kiss deepened, growing further needy. I could feel it in my bones; not only did he want me, he needed me. This was just about the biggest high I had ever had. Roman Godfrey-- all mine in this moment.

The friction between my legs, feeling his cock continuously brush up against my stomach through our clothes, had me gripping his shoulder, disconnecting our kiss to catch my breath. My head rolled back against the wall behind me as I pondered how I had allowed this to happen, not used to pleasure caused by others. 

Roman's fingers wrapped around my throat, holding me in place as we rocked against each other, lips hovering above one another before they came crashing together once more, unable to keep away. I let out a broken whimper, my hands flying back up into his hair, pulling him closer as pleasure coursed through my veins in a way I hadn't ever felt before. I couldn't quite put my finger on what this was, but I had never been this certain that I liked it.

I let out a broken moan as my head rolled back once more, which in turn had Roman connecting our lips, muffling any sounds. This was where I was reminded that we were in public, wondering if I had gone absolutely mad-- I blamed it all on him. His beautiful eyes, his strong arms, and his addicting, soft lips. As Roman continued to grind me up against his thigh, pulling away to watch my lips part and my body squirm in pleasure, I gazed up at the way the corners of his mouth turned up into his signature smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing-- messing with me like this, practically in public. 

It took a lot of willpower for me to push him away, whimpering slightly at the loss of contact. "We-- We can't," I said, catching my breath. 

Like this, I could see how disheveled Roman's hair was, how his lips looked swollen with kisses, and it made my stomach flip-- how was it possible for someone to be so beautiful, even when completely unraveled? 

Roman shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. It was clear that he was scanning my look of arousal; "My car is right around the corner,"

"Okay...?"

Leaning forward, Roman captured my lips in a short kiss. "I can park it somewhere desolate," he said, nipping at my lower lip. 

I couldn't help but shiver-- that sounded really fucking nice at the moment, but I knew I had to control myself. And I wasn't about to lose my virginity in a car? "Another time," I mumbled, struggling to catch my breath. Who would've known that arousal could cloud the mind like this? 

Roman nodded, accepting my words as a promise. "I'll hold you to that,"

Oh no-- This again? Great.

Just great.

(a/n: thank you for reading!! MWAH)

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

[iwasnotaslasher]

Lover's Lake

part two

read it on AO3

In bigoted '80s Hawkins, where Omegas are constantly harassed, freshly presented Steve 'the King' Harrington begrudgingly chooses to wear scent blockers all the time to hide his real secondary gender and pass as a Beta.

It works just fine for him. Sure, there's the con of having to ignore your instincts and stay away from Alphas, deal with the heats all alone – and it sucks, doesn't matter how you put it, it fucking sucks – but it's a trade-off worth making if it means staying safe.

Then, on a Saturday, March 22, 1986, Steve goes with Robin, Max and Dustin on a quest to find a potential murderer and ends up at Rick Lipton’s boat house near Lover's Lake, with a broken bottle threateningly pointed at his throat by an Alpha – his Alpha – big brown eyes glaring at him and fangs bared and petrichor scent filling his nose and his heart with mate.

In bigoted '80s Hawkins, where even being slightly off-track can brand you forever as an outcast, Eddie 'the Freak' Munson choses to fight back with metal and weed, long wild hair and ghastly tattoos.

It's a big middle-finger to the system. Yeah, there's the con of being avoided like plague by any Omega, all of them too scared to go beyond his mean look and uncover the concealed softness he’s eager to give out – but it's not like there's another way, Eddie is like this, take it or leave it.

Then, on a Saturday, March 22, 1986, the day after the most traumatic experience of his life happened, while in the hide at Reefer Rick’s boat house near Lover's Lake, he finds himself threatening with a broken bottle an Omega – his Omega – wary hazel eyes searching his and fluffy hair and maple syrup scent chanting mate.

And Steve fucking thrills at him? He didn't even know he could make such a sound and now he's thrilling to a weirdo Alpha he never spoke with before?

And Eddie damn right rumbles back at him? He never even dared to do such a thing with anyone and now he's rumbling to the school jock?

The bottle slips from the Alpha's grip and shatters on the dirty floor.

His hands gently cradle the Omega’s face, fingers brushing his cheekbones and eyes mapping his features, memorizing all of his beauty marks and filing them under ‘adorable’ – this precious thing is his. Steve follows absently his touch like a moth attracted to light, molding himself into the Alpha’s embrace, basking in the unbearable warmth he’s radiating – he never felt really at home until now.

Next thing they know, they are nuzzling and rubbing all over each other, hands grabbing and fingers scraping and mouths opening into bitey kisses, both already hard and dizzy for the sudden need to have the other here and now. Steve core clenches and soon Eddie can whiff the lush smell of fresh slick. His fangs throb in response and a deep, pleased rumble spreads from his chest, a sound that makes Steve literally melt into his arms.

Finally clocking in the situation, Robin yelps and immediately whisks away Dustin and Max from the boat house, because Jesus Christ in Heaven, the air in there stinks of mating call and she's not up to witness whatever those two are clearly intending to engage in the next hours. Less than ever, to let two minors under her temporary custody witness it.

She comes back alone at the boat house the next day, bringing supplies – food, water, blankets, clean clothes, deodorants. She knocks more than a few times, you know, to give them the opportunity to not traumatize her, thank you very much. Then she gingerly steps inside, preventively pinching her nose and looking with only one eye open in the dreadful event that she comes across an unwanted sight.

When she finds them she has to choke back an emotional croon, because… aww! They are so freaking cute!

Huddled together on the boat under – thank God! – an old, shaggy blanket. Which eww, it looks dirty and itchy, but they are both soundly asleep and reeking contentment, so... good for them, she guesses? Eddie is wrapped protectively around Steve, who's purring loud and steady with his face snuggled under his chin, nose pressed on the Alpha's bonding spot. The Omega's own is sporting a brand new claiming bite, still red and swollen.

Robin leaves the supplies on the nearest free surface and walks away, somehow managing to do it without stumbling and breaking her neck – yay for her!

Closing the door behind her, she has to dry some happy tears: her Dingus has finally found his mate! Yeah, there's that little detail about an actual apocalypse impending over all of them, but you know what? At least they will go with a bang!

Except they will not.

None of them will go, with or without any bang. Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington just formed a damn power couple and now are near unstoppable: Vecna doesn't have any chance to win against their combined efforts to save the day and live happily ever after.

Especially since Steve wasn’t under any birth control when they mated right away, and the pregnancy hormones are already working non-stop to make him damn feral. Eddie looks at his mate in awe as he unleashes his wrath over the Demobats, actively saving his ass from certain death.

“Do not. Touch. My Mate. Ever. Again.” he snarls, smashing the monsters with his nailed bat, black goo blood splattering all over and hairy tiddies on display.

Eddie can’t feel more glad to have bonded with such an incredible badass Omega. He needs to send a gift to Reefer Rick, maybe buy from him the whole property and redo it into a real house for his Omega and their pup. Lover's Lake sounds metal as hell for a home address.

[prosypepper]

deadbeat, pt.2 - toji fushiguro

pt. 1

synopsis: still too stupid and selfish for anything good to happen.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: more angst, sort of comfort from the last part, more fighting, one (1) paragraph describing sex, toji breaks into your house, megumi is your baby, unneeded plot twist at the end, really bad writing again. (18+ mdni!)

notes: i really had not a clue for what to do as a part 2, so i stuck with canon events (kinda). i hope u like it :) please go read part 1 before reading this! it's at the top of the post! much love!!

masterlist

“megumi, stop running away from me!”

 footsteps patter against the grass as your 1-and-a-half-year-old son tries to escape you. you laugh and chase him for a little while before scooping him up in your arms. he babbles and whines, now unable to run freely, but you tell him you need to cook dinner.

a year and some months have passed since toji kicked you out. you haven’t looked back since. you’d bought a house after getting a new job, it has a beautiful back yard and enough space for you and megumi to grow freely.

the only traces of toji left in your life was the dingy wedding ring he bought – that now laid somewhere in your jewelry box – and your son, who looked just like his father. toji’s genes absolutely outshined yours in the boy. however, you were able to look at megumi with more love than anything else in this world, despite what his deadbeat father did to you.

at the end of each day, after megumi goes to sleep, you enjoy spending a few hours to yourself, watching whatever tv drama or reading a book. after you put megumi down for bed, you stay in the room for a few minutes to make sure he falls asleep, safe and sound. and when you make your way back to the living area, a scene is in front of you that stops you in your tracks.

toji.

toji’s sitting on your couch, somehow broken into your house, and he’s looking right into your eyes. you can’t move. you can’t speak. you can only stare at toji as the uncomfortable silence fills the air more and more.

“wh-,” you stutter, anything other than the small noise unable to come from your lips, and you begin to back away slowly.

something had changed with you. since you’d left toji, a certain fear grew in the back of your mind, because toji was a dangerous person, after all. you had prayed things would be left alone, because you and megumi were just fine by yourselves, and toji is the one that told you to get out. the once fearless person you were was no longer there.

and the person that scared you the most was sitting in your living room.

“hey,” toji says, cutting the anticipation in the air, “don’t back away from me.” his words stop you once more.

“toji,” you mutter, saying his name again, something toji had longed for, “why…are you here?” you ask him, shoulders beginning to relax.

“i wanted to see my wife.”

toji’s nerve immediately angers you. you weren’t his wife anymore when he kicked you and his own son out of his house. you weren’t his wife when he cheated on you that night, either. you haven’t been his wife for well over a year. the divorce hadn’t been finalized yet, and you soon know why, when your eyes trail down to the coffee table and see the neat stack of papers you had sent toji months ago.  

“i’m…i’m not your wife anymore, toji,” you sternly tell him, crossing your arms over your chest. the fear you once had quickly fades, now replaced with nothing but anger – the same anger you’ve had for toji since you left his apartment.

“i haven’t signed the papers yet,” toji retorts, “and i won’t.”

rage boils up in your chest at his words. and the audacity he has to break into your house and declare you as his wife pisses you off even more.

“get the hell out of my house, toji,” you demand, pointing a finger towards the door – just as he did to you.

toji only crosses his arms in return. he doesn’t budge.

you stomp over to toji, leaning down and grabbing the collar of his shirt in your fist, “you’re the one that left me, you bastard,” a new strength makes its way into your arm as you tug on his shirt, forcing him to stand up, dragging him towards the entrance of your home, “get the hell out of my house!” you try and throw toji towards the door, and he stumbles over his feet for a second before regaining his balance.

too many emotions are running through you for you to act rationally. tears sting your eyes as you watch toji stand there, looking at the ground, a cold expression across his features. one of his fists is balled up. veins pop out of his arm. you lean against the wall in the walkway leading to your door, slowly sliding down until you’re on the floor. you bring your knees to your chest. tears slide down your cheeks.

toji takes a step toward you and crouches down so he’s on the same level. he reaches a hand out to cup your cheek, it’s the softest he’s touched you in a long time. you want to cower away from his touch, but all the feelings you tried so hard to push deep down — all the anger, all the sorrow, all the hurt, all the love — come rushing back into you at lightning speed.

toji’s dark pupils dilate as you look into them. he gives you once small look of vulnerability, something he hadn’t even done when you were married to him. he takes a thumb to wipe away one of the tears.

he’s sorry.

the words dare not come out of his mouth, but you can see, toji is sorry.

you break.

a small whimper leaves your lips, and you throw yourself into toji, wrapping your arms around his neck. his strong arms engulf you again.

“you…asshole,” you cry into his shoulder, tears coating the fabric of the shirt you almost ripped off of him. there are no smart remarks or retorts from the man, he knows, he just knows how much he hurt you.

the pain he put you through was inevitable.

as you continue your sobbing, a different cry comes out from down the hallway. toji’s head perks up at the wailing. it’s as if your baby knows exactly what is happening.

“it’s megumi,” you sigh into toji’s chest, quickly pushing the man off you. he stands up and helps you stand along with him. toji trails behind you as you enter megumi’s room.

there’s a look of unease on his face as he watches you pick your son up and hush him, whispering sweet words to him and combing his hair with your fingers. toji can see the resemblance to himself, how his child has the same eyes, same nose, same hair, even the same tiny eyebrows. he watches you bounce megumi on your hip, slowly settling the baby’s emotions, making him tired again in the process. as you cradle the almost asleep baby in your arms, you notice toji’s uncomfortable gawking.

“do you want to hold him?” you ask toji, voice still a little uneven when you talk to him. he hesitantly nods his head. you hold the slumbering baby out, coaching toji on the most adequate way to hold the boy.

it’s a sight to see, toji holding his mini-me, bolstering the baby in his arms. toji gives you a proud look, like, “i’m actually doing it!” but of course, his emotions go no further than the look on his face. he is content holding his son in his arms, he could stay that way forever, he thinks. his scarred lips curl into a frown when you tell him he needs to put megumi back down to sleep, but begrudgingly, he hands the boy back to you to settle him in his crib.

you and toji make your way into the kitchen, a much bigger space than what was in his apartment. the conversation you tried to outrun by crying and being angry is no longer able to be looked over. toji is left in the room with you, just you. toji sits in one of the chairs at the small dining table, you lean against the counter, across the room from him. awkward silence takes up the space between you.

“why are you here, toji?” you ask the man, stirring a spoon around in a mug of whichever tea you like best.

toji rests his elbows on the back of the chair, looking everywhere but at you, “i…just wanted to see you and the baby,” he weakly admits, although, you aren’t sure if you can trust his words. inside your heart, you so desperately want him to be telling you the truth, but he hasn’t earned your trust, he hasn’t done anything to do so.

you focus your attention on the cup of tea, still furiously stirring away, as toji gets up from the chair and slowly steps towards you. it feels like hours pass as he walks over, but eventually, he’s close and trapping you against the counter. an unsteady hand sets the mug down behind you, careful not to spill the hot substance on the either of you, and you stare toji right in the eyes, seeing a tiny look of lust.

after all the time that had passed, toji could no longer peel away the emotions he felt for you. he could no longer cover them up, remain cold, and stay mean. he needed you like this. he needed that person that took a chance on him, and he knows that no one else ever will be as courageous as you were when you asked him for his number that day.

toji leans in, and presses his lips to yours, giving you a light kiss that you hadn’t had in so, so long. you close your eyelids at the contact. once again, you wrap your arms around his neck, fully embracing the contact with him – god, you missed him. you missed your husband.

his hands find their way to your waist, he’s feeling you up and down, taking his time to touch all the crevices he remembers so well. intimacy. toji couldn’t find that with anyone else but you. it doesn’t take long for things to lead up, and toji’s carrying you to the bedroom, softly laying you down on the bed as you two rip each other’s clothes off.

toji makes love to you that night. it’s not fucking, or just sex, it’s a deep connection this time, so close, so cherished. more sentimental than all the months he spent with you beforehand. his hands are all over you, his eyes never leave your face, he makes sure it feels the best for you and him. hours and hours pass by, and the whole encounter feels like a moment, a dream, something so unreal that toji thought he could never have.

you fall asleep nestled in toji’s arms, the both of you naked and sweaty, and loved. a satisfying conclusion to the night. he waits for you to doze off first, and he watches the rise and fall of your chest as you so easily fall into a slumber, next to him.

maybe it wouldn’t be a good thing later down the line, maybe allowing him back into your life will end up being a mistake again. you aren’t sure if he will even be there by the time the sun rises. toji isn’t sure this will stay permanent, his thoughts of running away cloud his brain as he watches his wife sleep next to him, so peacefully. he doesn’t know how long he will stay.

but, neither one of you really care.

toji’s eyes shoot open at the familiar sobbing of a baby. he sits straight up, covered in sweat, as if a nightmare had just ensued.

the bed is empty, he’s alone…and he remembers he’s been alone. you’ve been gone, for many months now, gone in a way you’re unable to return from.

it wasn’t a nightmare, no.

it was all a dream.

[cressidagrey]

frozen deep blue but you painted me golden

Summary:

Kora feels self conscious. Thankfully, her mate knows how to fix that. 

Warning:

This is literally pure smut people, so NSFW applies. Otherwise: Size kink ( Cassian is massive and she is smol), Use of Mirrors, Mirror Sex? Spanking, Magical Asthma (Is that a thing? I made it a thing.) 

(Beautiful dividers thanks to the lovely @tsunami-of-tears)

Kora stared at herself in the mirror.

Took in the white hair that fell to her waist in long waves…took in the straight eyebrows and the blue eyes that she had inherited from her mother…

She let her eyes track downwards…over the lacy nightgown she wore. Foam green…lacy straps that crisscrossed beneath her breasts…clinging to her curves.

Not that there was much in the way of curves it could cling to.

There had never been much.

Even that stupid nightgown… Kora had needed to have it hemmed and the straps taken in so that they didn’t keep slipping off her shoulders.

Kora could probably fault all that on her mother’s pregnancy complications. The same pregnancy complications that had resulted in her being born early. And the fact that most of the healers hadn’t truly believed that she was going to get older than a few days.

Jokes on them. Well, mostly.

She was…fine. If one ignored the weak lungs, the fact that she managed to catch every cold that went around, had never really reached the height of an adult and it was seemingly near impossible for her to put on any weight…but other than that she was fine. It could be worse at least.

Kora just wished…She just wished that maybe her breasts were a smidgen bigger than they were. That she looked more…womanly.

Instead, she looked… She looked like a porcelain doll. She had heard that more than once. Like something that should be put behind glass and not be touched, for fear of breaking it.

Whatever Kora did…she was definitely never going to manage to look sexy. That much was certain.

Kora pulled her eyes from the mirror and walked to the bed, scaling the height of it and curling herself together beneath the sheets.

She should stop thinking like that, she knew that. It wasn’t going to…give her anything. It was just going to make her feel horrible about herself.

Kora buried herself underneath the duvet, the lacy nightgown slipping further off her shoulder, exposing the white, slender skin underneath.

She knew that she was being silly and vain, but it had always niggled at her that she didn’t quite match the beauty standards of the Winter Court. Kora was petite, fragile, and delicate, and the word ‘sexy’ had never crossed anyone's mind whenever they thought or spoke of her.

She wasn’t strong and muscular…she wasn’t…She was none of these things. 

And so she stewed, in the weak light of the bedroom. She hadn’t bothered to shut off the faelights yet.

Kora knew her husband would come to bed and he would manage to stub a toe and curse under his breath and wake her up even when he tried to be quiet…Somehow he had the incredible ability to be unheard in battle and a bull in a china shop while trying to be quiet and not wake her.

Some things never changed. Even after 300 years.

So Kora closed her eyes, and snuggled deeper in the blankets…and just minutes later, one eye slipped open as she heard the door open, a smile stretching over her face.

There he was.

Her husband's hulking form filled the doorway, massive, membranous black wings held high and proud as he came into the bedroom they shared.

Even close to 300 years after they had first met, Kora still thought him to be the most handsome male she had ever laid eyes on.

Even after 300 years the sight of him still made her heart race. 

Cassian’s wings flared out from behind him, spanning the entire space of the door frame, casting a shadow across his tanned face. Even though the room was mostly dark, Kora could see every single muscle on his body tensing and shifting as he walked through the door. He was utterly magnificent.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Princess?” Cassian greeted her and she smiled at him.

“Good evening, husband,” Kora gave back quietly, just as he moved to unsheathe his weapons, carefully placing them on their rack.

“Give me 5 minutes,” he requested and she hummed her agreement, watching the play of muscles underneath his skin as he pulled his shirt over his head, ferocious wings trembling and stretching behind him…

Kora’s throat dried as even more of his muscular form was exposed to her. It was a sight that, despite seeing it every night, never lost its effect on her. The scars on his body, the rippling muscles and tanned skin. She was transfixed.

It didn’t take her long for her gaze to linger below his waistline, where her eyes traced the V-lines that were visible above the top of his pants.

Cassian smirked, noticing her gaze, and unbuckled his pants, letting them fall to the floor. He didn’t miss the flush that crept over her cheeks as he removed his clothes.

“Are you ogling me, Princess?” he chuckled, his voice low and gravelly as he walked over to the bed where she was sitting.

So handsome. So beautiful.

She would never quite get over the fact that the mother thought it to be prudent to make them mates. Would never get over the privilege of sharing his life, his bed, his love. He was everything.

Cassian prowled onto the bed, his movements fluid and silent like a predator stalking its prey. He knelt over her, his wings spreading out behind him as if to wrap Kora in their embrace.

“5 minutes,” he repeated.

She swallowed and modded.

It didn’t take Cassian 5 minutes. It took him less than that.

He stepped out of the bathing chamber, skin still damp, the fanlight making it glow nearly golden…the dark warrior markings swirling over acres and acres of muscles.

Eager tonight, wasn’t she? She reflected drily, as he didn’t even bother with a stitch of clothing, the towel getting thrown over a chair as he prowled towards the bed.

Beautiful.

Beautiful and all hers.

She watched unashamedly, the muscular thighs, strong like tree trunks…the muscles that covered his stomach and chest… and the thick, half-hard cock between those thighs.

The sight of him, naked and still damp from the bath, made her shiver. He was magnificent, and he loved her. Somehow this beautiful, powerful, warrior had loved her, been mated with her, and taken her to bed.

He prowled across the room and climbed onto the bed, and Kora found herself leaning back, a strange sort of shyness falling across her. In all of its glory, his muscled body was all too beautiful and powerful, and next to him, her small and weak frame felt…inadequate.

And still, her body reacted with a rush of wetness between her thighs, before he had even laid a single finger on her. 

And then he did lay a finger on her. His hand reached out to her face, and she gasped as he gently cupped her cheek. She leaned into his touch, his skin still slightly damp, and she closed her eyes, revelling in the feeling of his calloused hand tracing her sharp jawline and the curve of her cheek. Then it was on her shoulder, his touch so gentle, and then her chest.

His fingers traced small, lazy circles on her collarbones, and Kora found herself arching her back into his touch, silently asking for more.

Cassian tipped up her chin with these strong and broad hands that could span her whole jaw if he wanted them to. He kissed her, a soft brush of his lips on hers and she moaned against him, her smaller hands squabbling against his shoulder.

“I missed you,” he said softly as he pulled back, catching one of her hands and pressing a kiss against every single fingertip. “How was your shopping trip? Were you successful?”

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and her back arched as Cassian’s lips traced the edge of her jaw and down to her neck.

“Tiring,” she muttered, tipping her head back to bare more of her neck, relishing as he left a trail of tiny kisses across her pale skin. “The shops were crowded, as usual.”

She hadn’t been successful in the slightest.

Seemingly every piece of clothing she had pulled in the shops hung off her…and maybe it also hadn’t helped to see that her friends…her family… Their bodies were strong. Healthy. Fitting in clothing off the rack and looking beautiful.

Her own body…it was none of these things.

It wasn’t fierce…or strong.

She was never going to be able to go head-to-head with Cassian in the sparring ring like Mor or Nesta or Feyre could.

Elain maybe didn’t want to, but she still could. If she wanted to learn, she could.  Elain could still take a hike without needing to ride on a reindeer because otherwise, Kora was probably going to faint.

It wasn’t like Cassian hadn’t tried to teach Kora.

Well, once. Once and no more, because it had ended with him fetching Madja, as she had struggled to breathe.

After that, she had been taught how to use a single knife to the best of her ability, which meant that the lesson was pretty much limited to Stick them with the pointy end, Princess.

She wished she could just… just for once… “Alas, no luck today,” Kora waved him off, leaning to press another kiss against his lips.

She could have this though. At least this.

She opened her mouth slightly in invitation, and that was all Kora needed to do. She gave him the opening and Cassian swooped in and made her forget anything else.

His tongue tangled with hers, a soft sigh escaping her as her hands fisted in his dark hair, and he plundered her mouth for everything she had to give.

Broad hands pulled her towards him, fisting into her nightgown… Kora shut off the faelights with a wave of her hand.  She couldn’t stand it today…couldn’t stand the look of his hazel eyes on her body.

In the dark, she couldn’t see him. Only the feeling of his hands, his mouth, his body as it pressed into hers.

His tongue explored every part of her mouth eagerly, and a wave of heat flushed over her as she felt his strong hands slide up the sides of her nightgown.

For once, there was a small, selfish part of Kora that she hoped that the lights were going to stay out. In the dark, there was no one to see every dip, crevice, and blemish on her body. Cassian wouldn’t see how lacking her body was in comparison to his own. He wouldn’t… 

“What’s wrong?”

Kora stilled, her eyes widened, and she silently cursed.

Cassian lifted his mouth from her neck and was looking down at her, searching for something in her eyes. He knew her far too well. It had been stupid of her not to realise that he would pick up on her suddenly shutting off the faelights when usually, she was the one… who liked to look her fill. 

“Nothing is wrong,” she told him, leaning forward to catch her mouth with her own, but he stopped her. 

“You turned off the lights,” Cassian returned, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders, keeping her still.

“Maybe I just wanted it to be dark,” Kora said quickly, hoping he would drop it.

She could see his silhouette in the shadows, the hard lines of his muscles. Cassian was quiet for a long moment and for a second she thought he was going to leave it…but he never did.

“You’re hiding from me,” he said, his voice flat but not unkind. “Why?”

She wasn’t hiding. It was just…It was…

“I look like a 12-year-old boy,” Kora suddenly blurted out. She didn’t look like…she wasn’t…

Cassian snorted, the faelights coming back on with a blink. He watched her, his eyes soft. 

“You definitely don’t,” Cassian gave back drily.  “For one, 12-year-old boys don’t have these,”  he said with a waggle of his eyebrows, his thumb tracing her breast through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

Kora’s cheeks glowed red, and she gave a frustrated huff.

“That’s not what I meant!” she said, swatting his hand away from her. “You know exactly what I meant. I don’t have any…curves. For cauldron’s sake, I am smaller than even Amren!” she said weakly.

“You are. Itty Bitty,” Cassian agreed, a bright smile on his face. 

Kora bristled, pulling her nightgown tighter around her body. “You don’t have to say that you know. I am very well aware of my…deficiencies,” she said sourly.

“I have eyes,” he disagreed, his hand cupping her chin and tipping it up to look at him. “You are smaller than Amren. That’s a fact. But that doesn’t mean that you aren’t lovely. Your body is exquisite…perfect. As if it was sculpted by the Mother herself, meant for me.”

She didn’t believe him.

“Where did this even come from?” Cassian wondered, his brows furrowing. “You never cared before.” 

No, she didn’t. Normally at least. It was easy to not care when she had a mate who pretty much worshipped the ground she walked on, who was so enthusiastic in their lovemaking that she had never once doubted that he wanted her. 

“Mor, Nesta and  Feyre, even Elain…they can fight. Hold a sword,” Kora said weakly. “I need a ride a reindeer if I want to take as much as a hike.”

His lips came down to press against her temple in a gentle kiss.

“You are worth a thousand swords on the battlefield,” he said quietly, but she only gave a slight scoff. “You can hold my sword all you want,” he tried next and she glared at him.

“Don’t make it dirty,” she snapped at him, making Cassian laugh, before he grew serious. 

“So what if they can? Your skills simply lie somewhere else. I would make a horrible spymaster. And I don’t think that Az is coming for my job any time soon either,” Cassian gave back earnestly.

She rolled her eyes at that, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased, but Kora wasn’t going to be so distracted so easily.

“What would you know? You’ve never had to be a petite, delicate flower that men have to carry everywhere,” she retorted bitterly. “I just wish for once I was strong enough to carry you around,” Kora sighed.

He just snorted. “Ask Az about it,” he suggested drily. “I am sure he is more than willing to tell you how lugging around my heavy ass is not some grand romantic gesture.”

Kora’s imagination immediately conjured up the image of Azriel awkwardly attempting to carry Cassian’s huge frame through a forest like a limp noodle.

Despite her mood, she couldn’t help but give a huffed laugh.

 But it still didn’t fix the root of the problem. 

“I am useless,” Kora said weakly.  “That’s what I am, Cassian.”

Her mate looked at her like she had just sprouted a second head. 

“You are not useless,” Cassian disagreed sharply. “Where would we be if we didn’t have you? You keep Az from going mute all the way. Rhys and you have your long philosophical discussions and you are Mor’s favourite shopping partner…Your research skills are unmatched, and if we didn’t have you, we wouldn’t be a proper court at all. We would probably just be a ragtag band of misfits,” he teased her. “You bring some organisation and decoration to whatever you do, Princess. Even Amren likes you, sweetheart. You are not useless.” 

Fine. Fine, she would give him that. 

“I suppose…” she muttered into his chest. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m weak and sickly and…you deserve better.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian snorted.  “Are you warm enough?” He asked her.

“See? Even now you need to worry about me so I don’t get sick. If Nesta was your mate, you wouldn’t need to worry about that! You wouldn’t need to worry about her fainting!”

He chuckled as he pulled her back against his chest, wrapping one warm arm around her petite frame, drawing her against the heat of his body.

“I rather like tending to you,” he said smugly. “As much as I love her, I am rather relieved that Nesta is not the one in my bed…she’d likely stab me in my sleep,” he told her drily. “And the fact that you are ill doesn’t make you weak,” Cassian disagreed with her, pressing another kiss against her forehead. “That is nothing you can help, Princess, and it doesn’t make you weak or worth any less in my eyes. You are my mate and my wife and the love of my life. You gave me your love, Kora. You gave me a home. You took a bastard as your husband, even when you deserved an emperor,” he told her softly, his eyes warm. 

“I didn’t marry a bastard, I married the General of the Night Court,” she disagreed, tipping her head back to press a kiss against his chin. “I only ever wanted you.“ Kora admitted softly. 18 years old. One look. And it had been done. Him or nobody.

“You have me, Princess,” he told her, pulling her tighter against his body. “Every last piece of me. Always.”

His breath tickled her ear as he spoke, and his touch made heat flush over her skin, stirring something inside of her.

“There is nothing wrong with your body,” he told her softly. “You are beautiful.”

She shivered against him, the warmth of his body and the sweetness of his words sent a rush of affection through her.

“There wasn’t one thing in the shops that fit me today. Everything was too big or too long. Unless I went into the children’s section.” Kora muttered petulantly.

Cassian chuckled, his hand roaming over her body, sliding over her hip and the pale white skin of her stomach, and up to her chest.

“Children’s clothes would be a little too small, Princess.” He commented as he began to toy with the neckline of her nightgown, slowly pulling it down to expose more of her skin.

“Why don’t we go to your favourite seamstress tomorrow?” He suggested softly. “I think you could use a new dress. Or three.”

Kora shivered as his hand brushed the side of her breast, and she curled closer to his touch. “Perhaps,” she mumbled, distracted by the feeling of his strong body against her, and the feeling of his touch.

His other hand came up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, and his mouth returned to her neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. Kora shivered, her eyes fluttering shut as heat washed over her body.

“That still doesn’t fix the problem,” she mumbled.

“What problem?” he murmured against her skin, his tongue tracing the edge of her ear and finding the spot that made her shiver. Kora arched her back in response, a soft moan escaping her mouth. “That the store doesn’t carry your size?” Cassian asked her.

No. That wasn’t the problem. She was the problem.

“That I… don’t look…” she struggled to find the words.

His hands on her body stilled and then tightened.

“Be careful how you speak about my wife.”

Her breath hitched as he held her tighter, his body flush against hers and pressed into the softness of her own. Kora could feel the hard lines of his body against her back, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

She trembled.

“Is that why you wanted to hide? Why did you shut off the light?” Cassian asked her softly. “Because you don’t feel beautiful?”

The light had been a coward’s way of hiding, a pitiful attempt to spare Cassian from seeing her body and his eventual disappointment.

“Yes,” she muttered softly. Kora closed her eyes, but he gently tipped her chin up towards his own.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered her softly.

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and was met with Cassian’s handsome face, his dark eyes watching her.

“Did you think I didn’t like seeing you naked?” he asked her gently. Cassian was always telling her that he wanted her, desired her, that he liked looking at her like that…but she never truly believed him.

“Not…entirely,” she admitted, shifting her eyes away from his gaze.

Suddenly he was moving.

“What are you doing?” Kora asked as her husband left the bed to cross the room and pick up that dreaded mirror. she had just been standing in front of.

He lifted it like it weighed nothing.

He carried it over to her side of the bed, putting it down carefully.

“Cassian…what are you doing?” she repeated, her voice shaky. He didn’t answer, as he joined her on the bed, kneeling behind her and arranging her body so that she had no other choice but to face herself in the mirror, forcing her to look at her own reflection. 

“I am going to show you how fucking beautiful you are,” Cassian told her simply.

She swallowed, trembling in the grasp of his big hands, as he slipped the sheets from her body. Heat flooded her face as he bared her body, leaving her with no other option but to look at the reflection of her and him in the mirror.

Kora knew she was tiny, small, and weak…and there it was, right in front of her. The huge muscular form of her husband wrapped himself around her dainty frame, his huge hands against the pale white skin of her body.

“We are going to play,” Cassian said softly.

Her breath hitched at his words, and she swallowed thickly. Play. 

They didn’t play each time they took their pleasure in the marriage bed…but if they did…if they did play…if they played and the only way to get Cassian to stop wasn’t the word stop but instead “Red”...It meant that she would end the evening strung out with pleasure and absolutely wrecked. 

“Yes,” she breathed and he chuckled.

“Good, Princess,“ he praised her. Cassian’s hand began to roam over her body, sliding over her hip and stomach, and then up to her chest.

Kora gasped and arched her back slightly, pressing back against the heat of his body, letting herself give in to his touch.

“The rule this time is really simple,” Cassian told her softly. “You stop watching and I’ll stop touching you,” he warned her, his voice warm and deep. “You’ll look at yourself…and you’ll see exactly what I see when I watch you.”

Her breathing was shaky and her heart rate had picked up in speed, beating a nervous beat in her chest.

“Alright,” Kora whispered, her eyes meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. His eyes roamed over her form and then met hers once again, watching her with hunger.

His hands roamed over her body slowly, caressing her pale milky skin, feeling the softness and gentle curves of her body.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, his fingers tracing her hip. “So small… so delicate.”

That nightgown she wore was tucked over her head, leaving her utterly bare, his hands kneading her chest, callouses rubbing against rosy nipples and delicate skin.

“Look at yourself,” Cassian cooed. “You don’t look like a 12-year-old boy. I love every freckle on your face. Like constellations in the night sky.”

She shivered at his touch, his deep voice in her ear and the feel of his chest against her bare back. Cassian’s hot breath against the sensitive skin of her neck was driving her crazy.

His hand was roaming over her chest, massaging the sensitive flesh, while the other rested on her stomach, keeping her close to him.

“I hate those freckles,” she mumbled stubbornly.

And still, she couldn’t help but watch as her nipples pebbled against his touch, her breasts growing heavy and warm as arousal grew low in her belly.

“I love those freckles,” he countered, and to prove his point he leaned down and captured her shoulder between his teeth, gently nibbling the sensitive skin there.

Kora let out a soft gasp, arching her body up into his touch and leaning back against his chest.

She watched as he marked her skin, her gaze meeting his in the mirror as his tongue caressed the pale skin of her shoulder, leaving a red bruise there.

“And I love the colour of your eyes. Blue like the sky on a winter's day,” Cassian continued.

Her face flushed at his praise, and she fidgeted slightly, but his hand on her hip kept her from moving away.

He nuzzled into her hair, breathing deeply, taking in her scent.

“And your hair…so soft, and silky.” He continued. "I love grabbing it." He tugged at it as if to prove his point. He twisted her body, just enough to fold his hulking form over hers…just enough to…to suck one pebbled nipple into his mouth.

Kora shivered against him, her head falling back against his shoulder in an arch, the feeling of his mouth against her breast making heat pool low in her stomach. She couldn’t help but let out a gasp at the sensation.

Her eyes closed.

He stopped.

He bit her earlobe, “I said, don’t look away, Princess.” His voice was a rough growl, full of desire and warning. A shiver ran through her body at his words, and she quickly looked up once more at the mirror. His form completely enveloped hers, making her look even smaller in comparison.

“That’s better,” he breathed against her ear, his tongue tracing the outer shell. “Now, what was I saying? Oh right…your beautiful body.”

”I love your breasts. They are beautiful. They may be small but doesn’t keep them from being oh-so sensitive, does it?” He told her, nearly conversationally…and then he caught one between thumb and forefinger…a pinch, a tug… she squeaked at the shot of pure arousal. Her hips bucked and she bit her lip, trying to restrain herself. She was sensitive everywhere… especially there.

“Yes,” she gasped as he repeated the motion, a flush painting itself across her face.

“Gods…so sweet,” he murmured against her ear as his hands continued to tease and play with her. “Every inch of you is perfect.”

He let off her breasts but she should have known that that was only the beginning.

“I love your waist because I can simply do this,“ Cassian said softly, wrapping both hands over her waist and spanning it completely.

Her eyes fluttered shut once again as he wrapped his big hands around her waist, his touch warm on her skin. She felt the heat of his body against her back, almost completely enveloping her. He nipped her ear, “I said look. Watch yourself as I touch you.”

Kora shivered, her eyes opening to stare at their reflection.  Her skin looked pale white against his golden tan, and suddenly the size difference between them was painfully obvious. He looked so big and strong, completely dwarfing her small frame in his arms as his hands roamed over her skin. Cassian let go of her waist, keeping one massive arm banded around her, making it impossible for her to move away, as he reached between her thighs, chuckling softly.

“You are drenched for me, Princess,” Cassian cooed. Kora couldn’t help but let out a shuddering gasp as his fingers found the warm flesh of her thighs. He was right… she could feel it as he reached slowly towards her core.

“Yes,” Kora breathed.

He spread her open and she blushed scarlet at the lewd visual. But that was nothing against his voice: “ I love your cunt. I love every pretty pink part of you I get to press my fingers, my tongue, my cock into.”

She shuddered at his words and the filthy image they conjured in her mind, and she desperately wanted to look away from the mirror as her face grew hotter, but his arm kept her pinned against him. She was completely at his mercy.

“Cassian…” Kora breathed.

The arm around her waist tightened, pulling her more firmly against him.

“No shutting your eyes,” he warned her, his voice thick.

And then… then one finger grazed upwards and she nearly flinched in his arms much to his amusement. “And I love your clit. Because I only need to do this…” he whispered, circling that little nub at the apex of her thighs, the feeling immediate. She keened.  “I love this one noise that you make…this one. “

Kora arched her body as his finger began to pleasure her, and a moan escaped her lips. She was sensitive, and every touch sent sparks up her spine, making her gasp and squirm against him.

“Cassian…please…”

“Eyes open, Princess. Or I’ll stop,” he warned her, pulling back slightly and she made a noise in protest. Her eyes snapped open again, and the image in the mirror caused a fresh wave of heat to wash over her body.

His big form towered over her small body, pinning her completely and making her look smaller than she already was.

“And your little cunt doesn’t want me to stop, does it?” Another gush of wetness between her thighs. 

“No…please…don’t stop….” She panted. “Please…Please…” She didn’t know what she begged for. For him to keep touching her, or to take her right here. Both sounded good at the moment.

He chuckled, nipping her ear and then the soft skin of her neck.

“So polite for me, Princess,” he whispered, his voice low. “I like this version of you. Begging for me…”

Kora choked back a moan and he nipped her neck in retaliation.

“Don’t you dare,” Cassian threatened her sharply.“I want to hear you. I earned every fucking moan,” he told her fiercely.

Kora choked on another moan that wanted to escape…his reaction was immediate. A sharp, stinging slap right against the soft flesh of her thighs. Her cunt gushed with wetness. Her gasp of pain turned into a gasp of pleasure. Pain shot up her thigh and right into the core of her body.

“I thought I told you I wanted to be to hear you moan, Princess,” he reminded her darkly.

Her gasp of pain turned into a gasp of pleasure. Pain shot up her thigh and right into the core of her body.

“I thought I told you I wanted to be to hear you moan, Princess,” he reminded her dark.“Next time, I’ll do that to your poor cunt,” he warned her, and she gasped wide eyed, staring at him the mirror. He was watching her with a look of pure male satisfaction. “

Her breath caught in her throat at his threat.

He hadn’t done it before, at least not with that much force…and Kora couldn’t help the way his harsh words made a little shiver run down her spine.

“Y-you wouldn’t,” she said, her voice slightly shaky.

He raised an eyebrow at her, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “Are you testing me, Princess? Because I’ll do it.”

She was shivering with…soemthing, a blush staining her cheeks as she bit her lips. 

She trusted Cassian with anything. Trusted him never to lay a hand on her in anger. But the thought of him…

Cassian chuckled, the sound warm and still a little bit mean. “You want me to, don’t you, Princess?” he teased her. She swallowed. “Be a good girl and you’ll get whatever you want,” he promised her.”

A rush of excitement ran through her at this, and it was hard not to shiver. She could be good for him, she could.

Cassian’s fingers teased the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, and a moan escaped her. 

His hand went back to her clit and she pushed her ass back against him, feeling his hard and heavy cock…he chuckled as she rubbed herself against him like a cat in heat. He shifted them slightly, fitting her cock against her, but not pressing into her.

“Get me wet, Princess,” he said softly. “Come all over me. Watch yourself.”

And she did.

She watched that expression on her face, the open mouth, the messy hair…watched her gushing cunt and his massive cock pressed against her, teasing her…she wanted him inside her.

She panted and writhed against him, rubbing against him like she needed to rub against his body. He was so big and hard, and she wanted him.

She chased her first climax… she tried to touch herself but he didn’t let her with a laugh, just letting her rub against his cock and played with her breasts, even as she grew frustrated. Kora growled in annoyance, and that was what he seemed to have been waiting for her.

One single sharp stinging slap, right on her lewdly stretched cunt. Her clit just so peaking out from its hood…and she convulsed.

Kora let out a strangled cry and her whole body went rigid as pain bloomed and pleasure washed over her, leaving her dizzy and breathless. The pain was immediate and stinging, but the pleasure…It was hard to breathe, and the waves of ecstasy made black spots dance around the edges of her vision.

It wasn’t the first time that he got rough with her. But it was rare that he got this rough with her…that he was willing to let her feel more than just the edge of pain and pleasure.

And Cassian was enjoying this, she could tell. His body was warm and tense, and she could hear his uneven breathing in her ear.

Kora slumped against him, her breathing coming in sharp gasps, trembling like a rag doll.

But Cassian wasn’t done with her at all.

“Every fucking inch of your body is gorgeous. And I’ll spend the rest of your life telling you that.” he whispered.

Her hips weakly twitched, the blunt head of his cock catching onto her entrance. She let out a low gasp when she felt him press against her entrance.

“Please…” she said softly. “Please….”

She couldn’t find the words for what she needed, but her body was already responding to his touch.

“Yes, Princess?” His voice was soft against her ear, and he nipped gently at her neck, “What is it? What do you want?”

She tried to push herself back onto him, but his hands were firm as they held her hips in place.

“Please…I need you,” she panted.

“Need me where, Princess?” He teased, his hands roaming over her hips and thighs. “Where exactly do you need me?”His words sent a wave of heat through her body, and she whimpered.

“You know where,” she said, but there was enough pout in her voice to convey the begging she didn’t want to admit to. He chuckled, his hands still roaming over her body.

“I have a few ideas,” he answered as his mouth moved to the sensitive skin of her shoulder. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Kora groaned.  “I need you…inside of me…please, Cassian,” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she flushed furiously.

“Oh, do you? You are being so polite, Princess,“ he teased her. “Of course, you get what you ask for.“

And he pushed inside her, with one blunt thrust, her body needing to yield

“Oh, gods,” Kora choked out. It hurt, in a way that was sheer pleasure, the stretch of her body accommodating his size. Her hips ached, her cunt flexed against his cock.

She whimpered as he entered her, his big body pushing against her.

Her body was spread wide to accommodate him, and she shivered at the sensation. 

“Is this what you wanted, Princess?” He asked, his voice low and rough.

Kora took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. “Yes,” she panted, “Please…keep going.”

He pulled back slightly, then rocked forward, and Kora heard a breathy moan slip past her lips and into the air. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back, “What was that?” He asked, rocking his hips against hers.

She whimpered, staring at herself in the mirror.

Her cheeks were a rosy colour and her lips were parted slightly, but her eyes were wide and glassy and…all she could see was thick, massive cock that was spearing her, slick and shiny with her wetness. 

“C-Cassian…” she panted, her legs were weak, and she was completely supported by him, but his hands gripped her hips tightly.

One large, calloused hand braced against her stomach, spanning the space between her hipbones. And then…then he pressed down lightly.

“Oh gods,” Kora choked out. She could feel him. She could feel him.

Kora was pinned right there, pinned in place between his cock and his hand, pinned and impaled from the inside and outside and…

She gasped when she felt his hand against her abdomen. The sudden pressure from the outside made her feel even more full if that was possible.

“See?” Cassian rumbled. “Look down, Princess,” he coaxed her and she did. Kora could see her belly bulge out where he rested within her. She couldn’t help the shudder that worked its way through her body at that realisation. 

“Such a good girl, Princess. You are taking me so well,” he cooed.  It was hard to speak as the pressure built and his words washed over her, but she whined softly in answer.

Every movement he made caused a new wave of sensations that travelled up her spine and made her see stars.

Kora’s head fell back against his shoulder, exposing her neck. Cassian didn’t miss the opportunity, immediately licking and nipping the sensitive skin.

“You like this, Princess?” He asked, still not moving much and simply rocking his hips slightly, just enough to send a jolt through her body.

Kora trembled, all she could do was whimper softly in response. She could barely form coherent thoughts and was struggling to keep her eyes open. He groaned a low, guttural sound that reverberated through her body, and she whimpered.

“Tell me,” he murmured, and the sound of his voice against her skin made her whimper again. “Tell me how much you like it, Princess.”

She bit her lip, her breath hitching slightly at his words, and then she swallowed.

“I love it,” she whispered, and her voice broke slightly “Please…”

He took her hand, calloused fingers wrapped around soft, manicured ones, placing it against her belly, right there where he had just pressed down.

She could feel him. Could feel the hard length of him underneath her skin and she couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her.

„Feel,” he demanded his voice as clipped as every other he had ever given. “Feel me fucking you, Princess.” His words sent a jolt through her, and she gasped. Her hips bucked involuntarily, and her head lolled back against his shoulder.

“Cassian…feels…so good… “ she panted. Her thoughts were fuzzy, and she couldn’t focus on anything but the sensations that his body was causing to race through hers. “So full…I’m so full…” she whimpered, pressing her hand against her abdomen.

His laugh was low and dark, a contrast to her gasps,

“That is right, Princess. You are full, absolutely stuffed full with me,” he said and ground his hips against hers to emphasize his point, and Kora moaned, a soft shudder running down her spine.

Everything felt hot and hazy, and Kora’s mind was spinning. She felt like she could barely breathe. “Please…” she whispered, her voice ragged. "Please, I can…"

“Watch,” his mate insisted.

She did. Her eyes caressed over his hulking form wrapped around her…over her arched spine, her heaving breast…her cunt, allegedly spread and dripping. Over his cock, that disappeared inside her…

Her cheeks flushed and her breath hitched at the sight. She was barely even aware of the sounds that came from her mouth, high keening, gasps, small whimpers as sparks of pleasure shot through. Kora pressed her hand against the bulge in her abdomen, feeling him recede and fill her to the brim…, her moans growing more frantic as his pace increased.

“Oh gods…oh gods…” she panted. She couldn’t keep her eyes open as she shivered in his arms, her breathing growing erratic, as were his thrusts. “C-Cassian” she whimpered, “I…I can’t…I’m going to…”

“Watch!” He snapped.

And somehow she did. Kora watched.

Her whole body arched, and tensed, and then she fell apart. Kora felt like she was on fire as the waves of pleasure hit her like a tidal wave. She moaned as she lost herself, and everything was white hot for several moments. And she watched. Watched the shudders work over her body…watched the expression of utter rapture in her face…the way her body clenched down onto the cock pistoning in and out of her…

Her vision blurred, and she clenched around him. Her breath caught in her throat with a moan as she shook, and her legs gave out suddenly as her climax hit her. Her hips rocked against him desperately, each movement sending a new shiver through her body. She trembled as the last waves ebbed away, her head falling back against him.

“O-oh…Cassian…gods…I…” She could hardly speak, her vision was hazy and her mind wasn’t working properly. She panted desperately, trying to catch her breath. He hadn’t stopped moving his hips, although his pace was slower now and deeper.

The new sensations made her gasp, and for a moment she tensed up again.

“I…I can’t…it’s too…” she stammered, trying to get away, but he pinned her in place, holding her right there, like a vessel of his pleasure to be filled as he continued to fuck her, slamming his hips agaist hers. 

“You can, Princess,” he said, his voice still low and rough with lust. “You can take it…and you will.”

Kora whimpered, “No…I…I…oh…please…please please please…”

She didn’t even know what she was asking for, but her hips still rocked against his, the pleasure sparking across her skin.

His hand pressed against her stomach again, and Kora shivered at the feeling. She moaned, and his thrusts grew faster once again. His pace was relentless now, and Kora whined, arching her back.

She let out a breathy moan, and her eyelids fluttered. Her body was tense, but so full of pleasure that she couldn’t think straight. “C-Cassian…I can’t…too…too much…I…”

She could hardly form sentences.

He groaned softly, and his hips moved even faster. Kora was nearly sobbing with sensations, her hips twitching against his and her body tensing again.

Her orgasm crashed into her, the mix of pleasure and pain resulting in a hoarse cry. Too much. too much…

Her body shook, moans and whimpers escaped her gasping lips, and she went boneless in his arms, unable to do anything but quiver and moan, barely even noticing when he slammed into her one final time with a guttural growl. 

Cassian came with a roar, his body stiffening behind hers as his hips jerked into hers. He slumped against her, and Kora felt his laboured breathing against her neck. Her breath was still coming in sharp gasps, and she had no thoughts left to form. She just kneeled there, trembling, as her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Cassian pressed a soft kiss behind her ear, and she heard him whisper something, but she couldn’t catch it. The words sounded jumbled, her blood rushing in her ears…her breathing came in sharp gasps, hurting in her chest like it always did when she had physically exerted herself too much. 

A sharp cough left her throat and Cassian moved immediately.

Her mind was still to sluggish, her body trembling, that she couldn’t protest, even if she wanted to. He laid her on her side, and just a moment later, he had fitted the nebuliser over her nose and mouth. A trinket from dawn filled with medication that would ease the worst of her coughs and make it easier for her to breath. It hummed to life with push of his magic. 

Tears shot in her eyes as she weakly tried to bat him away, but Cassian held firm, keeping it in place with one hand and bracketing her trembling body with his own, holding her in place. 

“No, Princess,” Cassian said firmly. She knew arguing would be fruitless, but she still tried. Still reach up and grasped his wrist, as the mist entered her nose and mouth, trying to get him to stop. 

Cassian only pressed a kiss against her temple, covering them with the thick goose feather stuffed duvet that they only had because Kora was always cold. “No,” he repeated calmly. “Your lungs are roiling. Just breathe, Princess,” he told her and she tried to shift her head to glare at him, her body still trembling. 

“Don’t give me that luck,” Cassian said with a snort. “You were worse to me when I got my wings injured. Don’t think I don’t remember your very creative threats,” he pointed out drily. “I am willing to fuck you until you can’t breath, but not at the cost of your health,”  Cassian said quietly as he held her tighter. “And I hope this has cleared up how utterly beautiful your body is.” Her cheeks flushed at his words, and she pressed closer to him, not wanting to think about how much of a hassle she was.  Kora tried to stifle another cough, but the nebuliser left her throat feeling dry and it came out anyway, sending a shudder through her body.

She pressed his wrist again, and he let up, letting her talk. 

“I…I’m sorry,” she whispered meekly, but even the short sentences made her breath catch in her chest. Immediately, the nebuliser was replaced against her mouth.   

“Hush, princess,” he said, his voice was low and comforting. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You are beautiful and perfect, and I will not allow you to say anything less.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kora’s mouth, despite her discomfort. His words may be corny, but she couldn’t deny that they made her feel better.

She nestled against him, closing her eyes as she tried to focus on her breathing. It was still ragged, but not quite as bad as before.

Cassian’s hands moved gently through her hair, the steady motion was soothing and, combined with the nebuliser, and she started to feel a little better.

“Do you believe me now?” Cassian wondered softly, pushing her hair from her face. “For me, you are the most beautiful creature in all of fucking Prythian.”

[toppersjeep]

But I Love Him- Lando Norris

Masterlist

Summary: You work at McLaren with Lando. You are his race strategist. You used to be in a relationship before he ended it because of all the hate you were receiving. One day you see him bring another girl to the races. And it upsets you. So you decide to take matters into your own hands and talk to this girl.

Your POV

Lando had arrived late at the paddock with some blonde girl. Of course she was beautiful. But I knew she had a reputation. But why would he care as long as he had someone by his side. I knew he was just needy. He was that way when we were together.

She walked into the garage and sat away from everyone. Lando walked over to me. Putting a hand on my back. Standing beside me. There it was butterflies like it used to be.

“What’s the plan for today Y/N” Lando said looking at my laptop. “Uhhhh well same as usual you know” I said his hand went lower. But why?? We aren’t together anymore. “That’s good” he said overlooking it. “Yeah just changed a couple things you’ll be on softs first” I said.

“Alright” Lando said with his arm around me. “You need anything else” I said. “Uhhhh no but I’m glad to have my lucky charm here today” Lando said. “Me really or Oscar” I said he laughed. “You of course” Lando said I smiled. “You look nice” I said fixing his color.

“It’s just my racing suit” Lando said. “Papaya brings out your eyes” I said. “Ah” Lando said blushing. “Beautiful blue eyes” I said. “Well I should get ready thank you Y/N” Lando said. “I got you” I said.

I walked around the garage when the girl he brought scoffed at me. I stopped in my tracks.

“Problem Maugi” I said. “Oh she knows my name” she said rolling her eyes. “Yeah I know who you are” I said. “Don’t you have a job to do” she said. “You know.. you are no good for him” I said. “Don’t care what you think he dumped you” she said laughing.

“And?? At least I’ve never cheated on my partners” I said. “You don’t deserve someone as amazing as Lando” I said. “You truly have no idea how special he is” I said. “I don’t care that he dumped me he did because he was protecting me” I said.

“So what” she said crossing her arms. “You don’t even deserve to be in the same room as him” I said. “You know what I think you are jealous” she said. “Why would I be jealous of someone like you? Sure you are pretty girl but you’ll always be mean” I said she stayed silent.

“You will never ever know him the way I do or love him the way I do” I said. “He dated you for what ten months get over it” Maugi said. “Just stop” Lando said walking over. “Lando” I said. “Not you her” Lando said as she looked at him. “But she started it” Maugi said. “No she didn’t as a matter of fact you need to leave” Lando said.

“Whatever you be with your stupid little race strategist” she said brushing my shoulder as she walked out. “I’m sorry she was pissing me off” I said. “I heard you” Lando said laughing. “What” I said. “You are so feisty sometimes you know” Lando said. “Shut up and go get ready” I said he kissed my cheek.

“And uhh I love you too” Lando said. I just blushed as he walked away.

Later…

Lando had won his first race. I ran over to the cars with everyone and stood up front. With tears pouring out of my eyes. He got out of the car. The whole McLaren crew cheered.

He walked over and spotted me. He then ran over and kissed me. As the McLaren crew cheered.

“My lucky charm” he said I smiled teary eyed. He then picked me up and spun mr around. “P1 so proud of you” I said. “You helped a lot so thank you baby” Lando said. “Oh so I’m baby now” I said sarcastically. “If you want to be my girl just ask” Lando said.

“Hmmmm tempting Lan” I said. “How about you just say yes and we see what happens” Lando said. “Alright I’ll be your girl” I said. “Good cause tonight I’m taking you out” Lando said. “Oh really shouldn’t I treat you” I said.

“When it comes to you just let me treat you” Lando said. “Fine my love” I said. “But tonight I’m expecting so many kisses” Lando said. “Of course my race winner” I said kissing him. “Now let’s go celebrate baby” Lando said.

____

(A/N- Sorry for randomly disappearing but I’m back now, needed a break from writing and stuff. But I’m back and I’m gonna take new requests. I’m gonna do a couple that have been asked. But send in new ones!!)