#truthfully and wholeheartedly

[2cupids]

toji x f!reader. mdni (17+)

you were never able to understand how people could cheat on their spouses or significant others. the pathetic excuses people made up to justify their cheating? you called it bullshit and found the act of infidelity to be absolutely despicable.

well, at least that’s how you used to feel about the act. until you met him.

being a housewife, you usually spent your days lounging around in the million dollar house your husband let you pick out a few years ago. anytime if you weren’t busy taking care of the house or sitting around looking pretty, you could be found at your bi-weekly hair or nail appointment and if not one of them, then you were out and about in your cute little convertible meeting your friends for brunch, attending your pilates class, shopping, or doing whatever your heart desired.

there’s not a better life you could ask for, you get to live the life that so many women can only dream of. yet, as thankful as you were for the lifestyle your husband was able to provide you with, the long hours he spent at the office meant that his work-life balance was greatly affected and sadly, your sex life wasn’t spared.

the countless evenings that were spent sitting at the large, glossy wood-finished dining room table eating alone and laying in bed using one of your silicone dildos to masturbate with because you were getting the real thing were beginning to grow tiresome and the need for physical intimate was getting harder and harder to ignore.

despite that, you still loved your husband and never blamed him for any of it. you were still wholeheartedly loyal and devoted to him. he’s only doing what he has to do to provide for his family, right? and it’s not like he ever mistreated you. there was no other man for you, at least that’s what you assumed. but that assumption went out the window the day that handyman!toji showed up at your front door in a tight, short sleeve compression top and some worn jeans to fix some leaky pipes.

truthfully, it was simply the case of one thing that led to another. for some reason, you felt comfortable enough to open up to a complete stranger about your frustrations and instead of turning down toji’s advances when he came onto you, you welcomed them. the first time was a complete mistake, that’s what you told yourself.

you and toji having a quickie on top of the kitchen table, was just because you needed to release the pent up sexual energy that had built up over time. right? because no matter how good toji’s bulging muscles looked as he subtly flexed them as he kept your legs spread for him while his eyes stayed glued to how well your pussy took his girthy dick, you could not let it happen again.

was it possible that you jinxed yourself by saying you would never sleep with him again? ..possibly. because a week later you’re bouncing up and down in toji’s lap as you two fucked on the couch, with his head stuffed between your pretty titties as he called you every type of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ for riding another man’s dick while your husband was hard at work to keep up that lifestyle you adored so much. the taunting tone of his voice replayed more times in your head that you would’ve liked as guilt ate at you from the aftermath of your actions, especially at night as you laid in bed next to your loving husband.

did that stop you though? no.

this affair with the handyman has been going on for months now and you don’t see any sign of it slowing down or coming to an end anytime soon. it’s gotten to the point where toji parks his car a few blocks away and meets you around the back entrance of your house, void of the nosey eyes of neighbors. and although you would never admit it out loud, toji fucks you so better than your husband ever could. not to mention, it’s like the man has a gold medal winning mouth when it comes to eating pussy. you never even knew you were capable of squirting until you started seeing toji.

tonight was supposed to be the same as usual, it’s a friday night and one of the days toji now routinely comes over to give you some good loving. except today your husband is uncharacteristically home early from work which makes you both worried and excited. though your worries are put aside as you converse with your husband while cooking, sharing laughs and smiles with each other as if you’re not having an extramarital affair. sitting across from him as you clink your wine glasses together, a little before the clock strikes nine o’clock on a weekday feels foreign to you, it’s been literal months since you can remember having anything close to this.

that warm, fuzzy feeling that fills your body as you and your husband sit and chat over dinner feels so nice that you almost tell toji not to come over tonight— almost.

it’s close to midnight, and your spouse is upstairs passed out on the bed from an alcohol-induced sleep while you’re unlocking the back patio door for toji to come in. he’s a man that doesn’t waste time, he gets down to business and within a couple minutes, he’s got you stripped down and naked, driving that fat dick into your pussy that’s seemingly become accustomed to his dick.

the sound of skin on skin echo through the expanse of the large kitchen as toji fucks you from behind, his broad-shouldered frame and big, bulky arms completely covering you and caging you between him and the quartzite countertop.

one of his large, calloused hands goes to your thigh and props it on top of the counter to fuck you deeper. your hands grip the cool stone harder as a strained moan rips from your throat at the new position and angle, feeling toji hit different spots makes your pussy react accordingly, clamping ever so tightly around his length that it makes him hiss.

toji’s not a particularly noisy man during sex, usually just a few groans and grunts here and there, but he’s changed it up tonight. you’ve never heard him make so much noise before and if you didn’t know any better, you might just assume that he’s getting off to the possibility of your husband waking up and finding you.

“oh baby,” he whispers in your ear, his voice holding a hint of mockery as he smirks. “what would you do if your husband woke up? what would he think if he saw his perfect wife getting her pussy pounded like a slut by another man?” he runs a hand through the silky strands of your colored wig, tugging your head back slightly.

your face scrunches up distastefully at the image and you frown, making a small noise to show you don’t take too kindly to his words, to which toji just chuckles a little louder than necessary. “aw, you don’t like what i said? feeling a little guilty all of a sudden?” he coos, a sadistic expression crossing his face.

his hips start to make contact with yours at an increased speed, balls smacking your sensitive clit each time so hard that it makes you yelp. the pants leaving toji’s mouth turn into full on grunts as his balls empty into your greedy pussy. slowly, toji pulls out and watches as your pussy pulsates and you push out his cum, the liquid leaking onto the stone floor beneath.

toji drops to his knees and starts stroking his dick back to life, letting his tongue dart out and lick at your swollen clit. some of his milky cum drips onto his face and he moves to suck his cum out of your hole, moaning against your sweet cunt. “how many times you think i gotta make you cum before you’re screaming so loud that it wakes up your hubby, pretty?”

[isasweetie]

rafe accidentally making a habit out of slapping bsf!readers ass and it becomes normal for them but he does it at a party or smth and nobody else thinks it's normal

ugh yes like it’s literally a goonfest between those two and everybody has to take a second look!!! im imagining s1 rafe here.. and his annoying friends… yummy!

rafe and you had a special bond, as you put it. truthfully, you were always a bit hazy anyway, eyebrows often furrowed in confusion when rafe’s discussing his business to you, or asking him to look things up for you. you wouldn’t call yourself stupid — just easily confused and sometimes unsure. so that’s where bsf!rafe comes in. he swooped into your life before you knew it, instantly attaching himself to the pretty girl who must need her knight in shining armor. you weren’t really sure how you got so close, but it happened.

it was innocent, for the most part. and i say that wholeheartedly. movie nights at your place, helping him babysit younger wheezie, going for ice cream. you didn’t act romantic, he was just like your bodyguard. well — your overly touchy bodyguard. his hands often found his way on your body to guide you through crowds and lead you places or simply hold you close when you were tired.

whenever you’d go somewhere without him, parting ways in your houses to get a drink and whatnot, he’d playfully slap your ass to shoo you away. it was meant ‘innocently’, or so you thought, but he did secretly love feeling it for the brief seconds he’d touch it.

rafe decided to make the brave decision of inviting you to one of kelce’s parties. you’ve been hanging off his arm the entire time, which earns some glances and whispers of ‘is that is girlfriend?’, only for the rumours to fizzle out when he’d be touching another girls waist whenever you were gone to the washroom.

sitting beside him while he deals coke on the low, he keeps his bicep around your shoulders as you chat up the people who want coke, because your sweet personality attracts business for your friend.

after about half an hour, you’re pawing at his salmon coloured polo and telling him that you’re gonna go get a drink. normally, he’d come with you, but he was in the middle of pouring a line for a girl with eyelashes that are falling off of the corners of her eye, so he just nods.

with a pat of your ass when you get up, sticking his hand up your skirt a little bit before you walk away, he barely notices all the confused stares in his direction. that is, until kelce is patting his back, saying, “bro! you finally bagged her, huh?”

he blinks. “the fuck d’you mean?”

“c’mon, man, smacking her little ass,”

“oh. no, we’re just friends, bro, just a.. habit, or whatever,”

topper chimes in. “dude, you don’t do that to friends. what, you hook up on the low or something? s’not normal to smack a friends ass, man,”

“me next, rafe?” kelce laughs.

“hey — bro, she’s coming, be chill,” rafe shoves his friends.

you come back and sit beside rafe again, blinking up at his annoyed face. “what?”

“no, nothing y/n, s’all good,”

“yo, y/n,” topper’s hand lands on your knee to get your attention and rafe pulls it off without thinking. “rafe smacks your ass, huh? think it’s normal?”

“gonna beat you with a golf club, man,” rafe mutters as you nod your head.

“yeah, why? he’s just teasing,”

topper and kelce laugh and you’re not sure why. all you can hope is that rafe doesn’t stop doing it anytime soon.

[xo-brooklynbaby]

I was doing my morning meditation and it came to me that goals that you set and achieve are gifts you give to yourself.

[salem-s]

02 ── PLAYING THE PART UNDER THE SICILIAN SUN (18+) ── RAFE CAMERON

SYNOPSIS when your image-obsessed mother catches you and Rafe Cameron ─ your friends with benefits ─ in a compromising situation, you must lie and say you're dating. It spirals out of control when your mother invites him to your cousin's upcoming wedding in Italy, and spirals even further when he says yes. SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

WARNINGS language, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving). 18+ mdni. prooooobably not perfect italian translations.

WORD COUNT 7.5k. need to learn how to reel it in.

SONGS OF THE CHAPTER julia by sza and yuck by charli xcx

Of fucking course Rafe manages to get a first class seat on the flight.

You want to slap that stupid smirk off his face for the umpteenth time when he boards before you, especially when he sends you a farewell wink and over-exaggerated kiss.

Rafe's parting words echo in your head over and over again like a tortuous mantra: “Can’t wait to date you, baby.”

You tap your foot impatiently as you wait for your boarding class to get called, cursing at yourself for your bruising pride when refusing your family’s money when buying the ticket. You absolutely hate using their money, their trust funds, their anything since you barely talk to them, much less feel entitled to their money.

There’s also the thought of wanting as little contact as possible, so the idea of your parents, more so your mother, having some sort of leverage over you makes you a little nauseous. 

Whatever. Basic economy will do. Regardless of the seat, you will get from point A to point B. 

Although that nonchalant philosophy nearly goes out the window as you pass his seat as you board towards the back, Rafe's stupid smirk making your blood boil. The bastard is already strapped in with that stupid night mask settled over his forehead. 

Priiiiiick, you think as you sit in the middle seat between a priest and a middle aged man. 

The flight itself isn’t bad. You don't manage to sleep much due to the overwhelming anxiety of your impulsive decision, and constantly teeter back and forth on the topic of if bringing Rafe along was a mistake. 

The pros are that he’ll help give your mother a topic to brag about to your family and friends since she claims everything else in your life is boring and not meaningful enough to boast about.

Plus, you might even get a little action if you're lucky.

The con is that it’s Rafe Cameron: the notoriously known prick prince of your campus. The guy who gets under your nerves with every opportunity that presents itself, the guy who will fuck anything with a vagina and flirt with a brick wall if it meant getting his dick wet, the guy who can put on a charming facade and woo you to where the horizon meets the sea without feeling a shred of likings towards you. 

No, you need to realize. No real liking.

He likes your pussy and your mouth when it doesn’t speak. He doesn’t do relationships. He doesn’t have girlfriends. He rarely fucks the same person twice, you being an exception due to your arrangement, and even then it’s a stretch.

It gnaws at your heart, knowing the next week is going to play with you mentally and emotionally in two different directions.

Truthfully, the only reason you continue sleeping with him is that you knows for certain he’s never going to want to take that next step with you.

Rafe’s made it perfectly clear it’s purely casual, and you agreed wholeheartedly (at first). Despite the toll it takes, you know better. You know that it’ll never be more than sex because of his track record, because relationships are a dying breed when it comes to the two of you, because the thought of being someone’s first choice makes you sick to your stomach. 

You groan when the plane lands with a jerk, lulling you from a sleep that you just fell into. 

It doesn’t take long for you to meet Rafe as he waits by the gate, looking more refreshed than ever. You conclude you probably look like you've been hit by a truck, the only thing keeping you awake and motivated is that you're seeing your nonna soon. 

Rafe has way too much energy while you stand in customs, talking your ear off about whatever nonsense movies he watched on the way here, relishing on how relaxed and well-rested he feels after all that time. The words go in one ear and out the other, as you can solely focus on standing on your own two feet right now.

God, you've never wanted to hit someone more in your life than you do right now, especially because he has the audacity to look good with his long hair falling over his bright eyes. 

It isn’t until they get in the taxi that you feel somewhat relaxed. 

Sure, it’s the smallest sports car you've ever seen in your life, your thigh and shoulder are smushed against Rafe’s in the backseat. It’s comical how he looks cartoonish the way his long legs are folded and how his head nearly hits the roof of the car, but you don't have the energy to laugh or even tease him on his grumpy facial expression.

“Via di dodici Ardoino, per favore,” you mumble to the driver as you close your eyes, feeling the car move a few seconds later.

You miss the incredulous look that Rafe gives you when you speak Italian so effortlessly, his dick twitching immediately – to his utter dismay. But he barely has the chance to comment on it before you're shutting your eyes and down for the count.

While you sleep, Rafe pulls his head out of the gutter to admire the Sicilian scenery as you drive through the countryside. It’s beautiful: the vast mountains, colorful houses, acres of farmland. It seems nice. Quiet. Quaint. The coast is to his right, the country on his left. He toggles looking at both, a small smile making its way to his lips without it meaning to. Rafe meant it when he said that he always wanted to visit Italy. 

The driver tries making small talk with him a few times, but Rafe sheepishly nods, not understanding the language in the slightest. He wishes you were awake to translate for him, but decided against waking you up due to how tired you looked after the flight, probably getting no sleep in whatever economy seat you were sitting in.

There’s a slight twinge of guilt in his chest when he thinks of you trying to get comfortable in the small seat, sitting thigh to thigh with strangers, neck straining and tossing and turning in frustration. 

Rafe then curses at himself. He should’ve given his seat to you. Why didn’t he switch?

Shit. He’s already doing horrible as a boyfriend. 

But his worries slowly start to fizzle out when you unconsciously rest your head on his shoulder, drooling ever so slightly onto his t-shirt and nuzzling into his side. 

He can’t help but laugh at the irony of shooting him death glares all day and practically cursing his bloodline with every pointed look you threw at him, but ultimately ending up seeking refuge in him. There’s a small swell of pride in his chest, the notion of you needing him. Even if you don't realize it. 

The opportunity is too good to pass up. Rafe takes a selfie with you, setting the incriminating photo as your contact picture, trying to ignore the stupid grin that etches on his face when he looks at it over and over again.

He tries to snap his mind out of it, taking pictures of the scenery, but his focus always reverts back to you, making sure you're still sleeping when he moves too quickly or if there’s a bump in the road that has him hitting his head on the roof of the car. 

The car slows at a countryside villa with a low stone perimeter fence, just on the edge of a cliff leading to the ocean. Rafe doesn’t have time to stop and admire as he notices the Euro meter displaying the charge of the ride, and he straightens his posture at his first task as a boyfriend: paying for all things under the sun for you. 

He carefully digs his wallet out of his pocket, stacked with Euros that he got in exchange at the airport before you could catch him and interrogate. He pays the driver the set amount, making sure he pockets it before shrugging his shoulder to coax you from your beauty sleep, his palm gently resting on your cheek.

You snap awake, blinking the bleariness out of your eyes as you take in your surroundings: the driver already out of the car and unloading bags from the drunk, your nonna’s cottage in sight.

And Rafe Cameron staring down at you.

“Hi, baby,” he says gently. “Sleep well?”

You hum and nod wordlessly. You stretch and frown at the wet spot on his sleeve. 

Rafe follows your gaze and raises a brow. “You drool when you sleep.”

“I do not,” you grumble, fishing around for your purse, ignoring his stupid grin and stupid laugh and stupid hair that falls right over his eyes. “That was there before we got in the car.”

“Hmm,” he hums unconvincingly. “Must’ve missed that.”

Sleepily, you grab your bag, sticking your hand in to grab your wallet but when you pull it out, Rafe opens the door with one hand and covers yours with the other one and squeezes once, twice, and the motion makes you dizzy all over again. 

“I already got it. Let’s go.”

Your mind spins. “Wh–?”

Rafe tugs on your arm to coax you out of the car, and he sighs in relief being able to stretch his legs. “I paid already.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugs as he watches you get out of the car slowly, like a baby deer trying to find its footing. “Boyfriend tax.”

You roll your eyes and shove him with little to no strength at all to where he doesn’t even budge, ignoring the way your heart lurches at the thought of him casually putting himself in the role he appointed himself to. The driver sets the remainder of the bags on the side of the taxi, and you offer a soft grazie to him before he drives away, kicking up some dirt from the path that has you waving your hand in front of your face. 

Rafe takes a long look at the house, nodding in approval. “This is real nice. Cozy.”

A snort escapes your lips. “What were you expecting? A barnyard?”

You're no stranger to the fact that Rafe comes from money. Heaps of it, even. He’s the type of rich that isn’t voiced, but rather shown through his demeanor, like how he wears a ratty old graphic t-shirt and jeans to class along with his hundred thousand dollar watch, or how he casually replaced your computer after you told him once that the sound stopped working, or how he always seems to smell nice even after he comes home from parties.

Maybe Rafe’s never stayed in a place like this, somewhere cozy, as he describes it, instead of a giant mansion with a yacht waiting in the water. Something tells you that his life before college was far from quaint or homey based on the content expression on his face as he takes in the scenery around him.  

“An old building, I guess.” Rafe looks down at you. “Like in The Godfather when Michael flees to Sicily.”

And there it is. You roll your eyes. Of course he’d find a way to bring that movie up. 

“You’re never beating the performative film-bro allegations, Cameron.”

You grab your bags and start hauling them towards the house, ignoring his spluttering attempts to defend himself. He follows suit, wishing he could take the bags from you and carry his own at the same time. 

As you trek on the cobblestone path, Rafe takes in his surroundings: the quaint cottage with a fenced in garden, two metal garden chairs planted next to a matching circle table, a tabby-cat lazily perched on the stone fence, a shallow rectangular pool that can’t be longer than fifteen feet filled with natural leaves and stones.

He sighs. He could die here peacefully in a place like this, somewhere remote yet warm and inviting. 

A dog barking breaks him from his thoughts as a shetland-sheepdog barrels out of the house and runs up to you and greets you like an old friend. You crouch down and swallow up the attention, scratching the shaggy brown fur. 

“Ticino!” you coo. “Che bellino!”

The dog, Ticino, eventually makes his way to Rafe, sniffing him cautiously and inspecting the stranger. Once he decides that Rafe isn’t a threat, he allows Rafe to pet him all over. His hands run over the smooth coat, scratching his back, head, ears, and eventually belly when Ticino collapses on his side, throwing a leg in the air as Rafe rubs his tummy with utter enthusiasm. 

He nearly sighs in relief at the set-up, as he’s always wanted a dog or generally any animal ever since he was a kid. His father never allowed amenities such as pets, claiming they tainted their family home’s appearance, and would ultimately end up with him paying the staff more to clean up after it (despite Rafe’s constant promises that he’d take care of it).

Rafe figures he can settle, only if it means having one for a few days.

“Ah, lui ha incontrato il tuo ragazzo, sí?” (He met your boyfriend, yeah?)

The unfamilar voice causes Rafe to pick his head up, meeting the gaze of your nonna standing in the dark blue doorway, a crayon-sun yellow apron loosely tied around her waist as a pair of reading glasses flatten the unruly grey curls on top of her head. Her arms are folded, studying the scene in front of her.

The only factor that reassures Rafe’s nerves is the tiny smile seeping onto her lips, more so as she looks at you approaching her. 

“Penso che Ticino avrà un nuovo amico,” you sheepishly respond, giving your nonna a warm hug, an embrace that feels genuine. (I think Ticino will have a new friend)

Something in Rafe’s chest tightens, a phantom ache in his heart.

He doesn’t remember the last time he hugged someone in his family like that – or anyone, for that matter – as the Camerons aren’t big on public displays of affection (at least towards Rafe, that is). He watches from the outside peering in.

Despite the unfamiliar feeling bubbling in his stomach, Rafe swallows the lump in his throat and manages to stand and offer a friendly smile. Ticino gets back up on his feet and looks up to Rafe, anticipating more pets. 

The older woman releases from the much needed hug and you step aside as Rafe approaches the door cautiously. 

“Uh, nonna, questo è Rafe.” You turn to Rafe. “Rafe, this is my nonna, Lorenza.”

Rafe offers the same polite handshake extension he offered Paulette back in the tiny dorm room. But your nonna takes one look at his hand, rolling her eyes in you-like bravado and pulls him in for a hug, one with the same ferocity as she had for her faux grandchild.

He chuckles nervously at the tight – but seemingly genuine – squeeze, reciprocating the quick hug with a wink towards you, who watches the whole thing with an uneasy smile as if your nonna is going to see through the whole facade. 

Then Lorenza releases him, hands gripping his biceps as she inspects him head to toe. “Lui è troppo magro. Ha bisgno mangiare,” she mutters, flickering her gaze to you as you snort unattractively at the words. 

“Basta.”

You wave her off as Rafe chuckles nervously again, fully aware you're talking about him in a language he doesn’t understand. 

He suddenly feels stupid. Like, really stupid. 

Because he should’ve studied some common phrases or words that wouldn’t make him feel like such an idiot. Rafe didn’t factor in the whole wait, your grandmother-like-figure doesn’t speak English situation when thinking about the itinerary of the trip.

After all, the wedding is the main event of the mini vacation. This is just the calm before the storm, the prelude.

Rafe nearly slaps himself at the idiocy of his lack of planning, worried that his inadequate knowledge will score him less points with the grandmother, the person whose opinion matters most to you.

Oh, god. He’s already fucking up. 

Lorenza steps inside the house, beckoning you to follow. “Vieni. Ho fatto un'insalata." (Come. I made a salad)

She disappears in the house and Ticino follows her, leaving the two of you in the warm breeze as you grab your bag, a small smile creeping up on your lips as Rafe is sure his is dripping in anxiety. 

“Uh, what did she…what did she say about me?”

You stand in the doorway, looking him up and down. He isn't sure if you purposefully wait a few moments to respond to prolong his nerves. Given the shit-eating smirk on your face, he assumes this is your own sweet little way of messing with him.

“She said you’re too skinny. You realize she’s gonna try and fatten you up before we leave, right?”

Phew. He can work with that. 

Even though he has no idea what she’s saying without your translation, Rafe decides he really likes Lorenza. Obsessed, even.

Obsessed in the way he wants a miniature version of her to keep in his pocket as constant amusement in this grim world. She’s bright, witty, and effortlessly way cooler than what he expects. Her all-yellow kitchen is her safe space, and he laughs out loud when she tells him – or rather when she tells you who proceeds to tell him – that she loves her kitchen, only partially for the cooking, but mainly for the cleaning and maintenance of it all.

Something about the domesticity of it makes his chest warm, especially with the way you're chuckling along with him.

It’s nice to see you unguarded, and Rafe can’t help but shoot teasing glances every time you show an ounce of niceness towards him. 

You weren't wrong about Lorenza making him do all sorts of chores around the house. He’s already lifted heavy pots and moved them to different cabinets, reached a spot on the top shelf that she couldn’t quite get with her paintbrush, rearranged some furniture and plucked two tomatoes from her garden outside (and he doesn’t even complain about the worm he saw slithering in the dirt).

His chest pathetically swarms with pride when he completes another task for Lorenza, happy to be of service, and also privy to the way you watch him and translate his next assignment. 

By the time he feels like he can sit down, the sun is already setting. 

You help Lorenza with the cooking, jabbing at him in both English and Italian that he should be nowhere near a kitchen setting after he nearly set their friends’ house on fire (neglectfully forgetting to add water to instant noodles), as he sits at the kitchen table and watches you. 

There’s a moment where you struggle to open a jar and Rafe instantly shoots up from his seat, placing his hand on the small of your back as if to coax you into giving it to him.

The touch lingered longer than he meant it to, opening the jar with ease and handing it back to you with a focused furrowed brow. You nearly teased him with how quickly he jumped out of his seat, but your words died in your throat when your nonna shoots you a knowing smile, a genuine one. 

That shut you right up. 

Rafe shamefully watches you, how you chop the fruit, pound down the chicken, speak so eloquently that he tries to listen to every syllable. You maneuver around the kitchen with ease, you and Lorenza talking a mile a minute as Ticino sits right next to his chair, laying his head in Rafe’s lap as Rafe strokes his forehead absentmindedly.

He doesn’t even break his stare when the cat, Po, jumps on his lap too, sitting upright as if to claim his stake with the new guest. The aroma of dinner has his stomach rumbling and by the way it’s looking, it’s ready soon.

Rafe helps set the table and tries to make it look pretty the only way he knows how, trying to recall how the chefs at his house make the dinner table look presentable. He does nowhere near the same level of pretty, but Lorenza thanks him gratefully nonetheless. She swats his hand away as he tries to get up and serve himself, but she points at the chair, insisting he sits down, as she fills his plate up with the primo piatti, pasta with homemade pesto sauce.

You sit to his left, filling up the wine glasses with a light white as he fights the urge to push a stray piece of hair behind your ear. 

Once Lorenza sits down, she sighs in mock exhaustion and grins. “Buon appetito, ragazzi.” She begins to dive in and so do you, so he takes that as the hint to start eating.

Sitting here at the small wooden table with barked laughter and a warm feeling in his chest, Rafe tries to remember the last time he sat down with his family and had dinner that didn’t result in a screaming match.

He keeps tensing, waiting for something to happen. But it never comes.

Despite there only being three people, it’s the most lively and comfortable he’s ever felt at a meal. It doesn’t even feel like an interrogation when Lorenza spews question after question, to which you translate, and Rafe answers and asks his own questions, and so on. 

She asks about his life: what he’s studying, where he’s from, what movies he likes (Lorenza’s a big film lover like him which warranted a giant tangent that he almost feels bad for, making you roll your eyes), and eventually starts asking about your relationship, or at least that what he assumes she asks about given sharp hitch of your breath and your nonna's darting gaze between the two of you.

Rafe doesn’t understand, but the way you shift in your seat and brush off the question with a light chuckle all but confirms his suspicions. Lorenza side-eyes you, dropping the topic. 

You know you'll have to tell your nonna about your relationship at one point or another, but you figure you'll brush it off for now in order to get the story straight for later. 

After two giant plates of pasta, three pieces of chicken, and a salad, Rafe is spent. He hasn’t been this graciously fed in what feels like forever, yearning to lay down for a little while to catch his breath.

He politely tries to help Lorenza clean, but again she waves him off and he’s selfishly a little grateful for that. She also waves you off, gesturing to your unpacked bags loitering in the doorway and nodding towards the bedrooms at the end of the hall. 

Before you walk away, Rafe gently grabs your forearm.

“Um, how do I say thank you?” he sheepishly asks. “You know, for dinner.”

Your lips curl into a pretty smile, a genuine one. It’s quickly replaced with a teasing one and he hates how the tips of his ears turn pink. “What? Didn’t take your Duolingo lessons?”

Rafe bites his lip, looking away from you bashfully. “Shut up. What is it?”

Recognizing the soft gaze in his eyes, your heart skips a beat.

How dare he look so pretty right now?

Then, you tell him. “Grazie per il cibo.”

“Grazie per il cibo,” he repeats slowly, feeling a bit stupid at his over-Americanized pronunciation but turning around to face Lorenza nonetheless. He clears his throat, causing her to pause her dish-washing. “Uh, grazie per il cibo.”

Lorenza beams. “Bravo, Rafe. Adesso, vai, vai,” she waves them out of the kitchen.

You grab his forearm. “C’mon. I’ll show you the room.”

You two exit the kitchen and grab your bags, waiting until Lorenza’s out of earshot even though she won’t understand anyway, ducking low to ghost over the shell of your ear.

“One bed, I hope.”

He’s met with a swift backhand slap against his chest but it only riles him up further, the thought of sharing a bed with you makes him nearly jump in excitement, the cherry on top of the whole trip. 

You two enter the room and you flick on the lights, stifling a chuckle as you turn around to gauge Rafe’s reaction, whose cheeky smirk falls into confusion. 

Two twin beds. 

On opposite sides of the room. 

You full on belly laugh at the stupid pout on his face, moving your bags into the room and claiming the bed on the left side as he remains unmoved from his spot in the doorway. His gaze alternates between the two beds, dumbfounded at the ridiculous amount of space between you.

He grumbles something incoherent as he trudges over to the other twin bed that is so small it’ll probably have his ankles poking over the edge when he sleeps. 

“This is worse than separate rooms,” Rafe practically whines.

You roll your eyes, lounging on the twin. “You’re such a baby. Not everyone has the luxury of a king mattress with Egyptian cotton.”

Rafe frowns, his grumpy facade simmering into confusion and slight irritation.

Is that what you think he’s bitching and moaning about? 

He pushes the thought down.

“Baby, I don’t care if I sleep on the floor or strung upside down like a bat. I hate that there’s this,” he gestures between the two beds, “much space between us. How am I supposed to be able to sleep knowing you’re right there?”

“Uh, I don’t know, maybe start by having an ounce of self control for your fake girlfriend?”

He rolls his eyes. “Now is not the time for jokes. I’m in mourning.”

You sit up, faux concern. “Of what? My vagina?”

Rafe shakes his head with a scoff of disbelief as you bark out a laugh. He hates the way he almost stomps his foot like a toddler. 

“Whatever,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna shower. Do I have to do that separately, too?”

“Yes, you do.” You stand, crossing the room to end up right in front of him. The centimeters between your bodies is palpable, and these rare moments where he's undoubtedly flustered only fuels your playfulness. “Sometimes, boyfriends need to suck it up.”

Oh, he hates the way the tips of his ears turn pink.

That word, the b-word, sends a foreign chill down his spine as he squirms away from you, grabbing the pajamas at the top of his bag and moving towards the door.

It’s okay when he uses the word, but when you use it… 

Rafe pauses in the doorway, looking back to see the smug look on your face that has him automatically rolling his eyes, irritation blooming. He grumbles something incoherent and heads off to the bathroom, ignoring the way your laughter echoes in the hallway and can even be heard after he shuts the door.

When he exits the much needed shower, you aren't in the bedroom. 

Rafe dries his hair messily with the towel as he throws it on his bed, leaving the bedroom in his thin pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt to search around the cottage. He enters the living room and sees no one, then peeks into the kitchen and sees no one. But he pauses, hearing muffled laughter beyond the kitchen.

Moving quietly, he gently pats Po's head, who sits on the kitchen table as he looks towards the yard. Rafe follows the cat’s gaze, settling on you and Lorenza sitting at the garden table, each nursing a half-smoked cigarette. The moonlight behind you casts a pearly hue on the ocean as your faces are lit up by the dim kitchen light.

You laugh at something Lorenza says, and he swallows the bile of emotion in his throat at the sound. 

He almost leaves to go back into the bedroom, to give you some time to catch up, but there’s nothing subtle about his six foot something stature as Lorenza notices him standing in the kitchen and waves him over with an exaggerated hand, cigarette ash spewing on the cobblestone.

You follow your nonna’s gaze and settle on him, fresh out of the shower in a white tee that snugs his biceps a little too well. 

Jesus. You physically have to look away as Rafe approaches. But as he gets closer, you frown when Lorenza stands, ashing her cigarette in the tray as the light slowly dies.

“Vado a letto,” Lorenza announces, flicking her gaze between the two of you with a knowing smirk. You open your mouth to protest but your nonna gestures for Rafe to sit down and take her seat. “Ecco. Buona notte, ragazzi.” (I’m going to bed. | Here, goodnight guys.)

You watch your nonna saunter into the house, Ticino following close on her tail as Po joins them as they all head to the master bedroom. 

There’s a calm quiet between you as Rafe plucks the cigarette out between your fingers and brings it to his lips for a long drag.

You find the strength to face him, and much to your dismay he’s already looking at you as he blows the smoke out, gaze intently focused on you with a sort of…

Softness? 

Suddenly, you squirm, the whole situation feeling weirdly intimate as you hastily grab the cigarette back from him. 

“Leech,” you mutter, taking a drag. 

Rafe snorts, putting his elbows on the table and leaning closer to you. “So? What’s Lorenza’s verdict?”

“Hmm?”

“Does she approve?” he teases, but there’s a small part of him that’s bleeding anxiety at the thought of not being liked. Rafe tries not to let it show and if you can see right through his facade, he can’t tell. “Do I need to pick the couch up with one arm to prove it?”

You take a long, painful drag, each second feeling like steel in his chest. “She didn’t say she doesn’t like you.”

“That’s a horrible way to phrase it. This is detrimentally important.”

“Jesus, relax.” Another drag. Rafe steals the cigarette from you, and you let him. “What’s the big deal?”

“Baby, I’m supposed to be your loving, doting boyfriend. I’m losing my mind here.”

You roll your eyes at the pet name. “She likes you, alright?” God, you want to smack the giant grin that spreads across his face. “Stop grinning.”

“I’m not grinning,” Rafe mumbles, still grinning. 

You hum low in your throat, forcing yourself to look away from his piercing blue eyes and charming smile that creates a fuzzy feeling in your chest.

Instead, you settle your gaze on the horizon, looking to where the moonlight meets the sea and honing your focus to try and hear the distant waves crashing.

Taking another long drag, you ignore the feeling of his intense stare burning in your peripheral.

“I told nonna that we’re going to the beach tomorrow,” you say after a few minutes of silence. “Supposed to be nice and sunny.”

“Oh? Didn’t think to ask me?”

“I want to lay in the sun. You’re free to stay here and do laundry with nonna, though.”

Rafe snorts. “On second thought, the beach sounds great.”

One of his arms dips under the table to absentmindedly run the pad of this thumb over your kneecap. You nearly jolt from the contact.

Despite it, you hums to appear indifferent, offering him the roach of the cigarette that no one wants. He rolls his eyes but takes it anyway.

“It’s only a twenty minute walk. Figured we could go in the morning, bring some lunch, then come back in the afternoon. What do you think?” 

Finally gathering the courage, you turn your head to look at him, a soft expression on his face as if he’s soaking in the moment before you find something to jab about to him. His hand still rests on your knee and you have every urge to nudge it off, because you don't like how you have the urge to brush his damp locks away from his pretty eyes. 

No, you reel. Not pretty. Just normal eyes. Nothing more. 

“Sounds good, pretty.” His voice is saccharine. 

You tear your gaze away from his face to his hands, watching Rafe put out the cigarette in the ash tray with a lingering smile that has undertones of honey.

Suddenly, despite the fresh air, you're suffocating.

Nope.

This is too intimate right now. It’s all too much: his eyes, his voice, his hand still seeking refuge on your knee. 

Standing abruptly, his hand leaves your body as he looks up at you in adorned confusion. You really don't like this mushy-gushy voodoo in the air right now, because his gaze is far from teasing, from his normal playful, and instead emulating that of candor.

This whole thing is pretend, fake, faux for show. The person that you're putting the show on for isn’t even here, so there’s no reason to milk the part. All you both do is fuck and argue. Why aren’t you doing either? Why are you pretending to act like you can do anything outside of that?

“I’m gonna shower,” you say almost awkwardly, the sudden movement startling both of you. “Just, uh, lock the door behind you.”

“Wh–?”

You spin on your heel and leave him sitting at the table before he can retort, entering the kitchen and refusing to look back. 

You purposefully take an elongated shower, trying to rub off the grime from the plane and airport and the sweat from milling about in the AC-less cottage.

Additionally, you try to shake the foreign feeling in your chest, trying to decide if it’s from the jet lag or from a certain dirty blond playing his part a little too well. 

Before you know it, you're contemplating the latter so intensely that you don't know how long you've been standing under the water for.

And of course when you turn the water off you realize you didn’t bring any pajamas into the bathroom, just a measly towel that barely covers your ass.

You just pray that Rafe immediately fell asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, or better yet, he’s still outside scratching his head about you leaving so abruptly. 

Poking your head into the hallway, you notice all the lights are all off and you nearly groan.

So, he’s definitely in the bedroom and definitely awake due to the lamp light radiating underneath the door. 

It’s fine. Totally fine.

Rafe’s seen you naked more times than you can count. It’s no big deal.

You open the bedroom door quietly, taking in the surroundings cautiously. Rafe lays on his back on the twin bed, ankles propped off the edge. One arm rests under his head as the other holds his phone against his shirtless tummy, lazily scrolling through social media without giving you as much as a courtesy glance.

Normally, you'd laugh at his large frame on the small bed, but that’ll bring attention to yourself.

Maybe later, you note. When I have clothes on.

You slip in the room and nearly sigh in relief when he doesn’t bother looking your way. He’s probably salty at your premature departure, because you know if Rafe hates one thing, it’s not getting what he wants. He’s a primadonna when it comes to holding grudges, and normally it drives you up the wall but now it’s a blessing in disguise. Maybe he won’t even look up at all. 

But the worst comes into fruition when you slightly lean over to unzip your suitcase on the bed, fingers brushing your pajamas when you hears a harsh breath hitch.

“Jesus, baby,” Rafe groans.

Fuck.

You spin around as if you were caught stealing, clutching your flimsy pajamas with one hand and desperately trying to keep the towel up with the other.

You take in the sight in front of you: Rafe’s arm is draped over his eyes as he sighs so gutturally deep that he almost sounds irritated, as if it's your fault he decides to look up your towel. His phone is long forgotten, thrown about somewhere on the bed as he pinches his eyes shut. 

Rafe takes his arm off his eyes and looks at you sinfully, scanning the water droplets on your chest and bare legs. He lazily lets his arm hang off the bed as he mentally undresses you with no shame at all.

You shift your weight between feet, feeling hot under his gaze. 

He likes to do this: watch and prolong the inevitable and get you all hot and bothered and ready for him. It's shameful how well he knows your body, how it reacts to him. He's calculating, precise, and uses his ever-growing knowledge to his advantage. Every. Damn. Time.

It feels like muscle memory when he silently nods towards his bed and your feet instantly pad over the tile towards his side, throwing your pajamas on the floor absentmindedly.

Rafe wastes no time bringing his arm to trickle up your thigh, skirting under the towel and catching a glimpse of your heat. He groans, pulling you onto him by the back of your thigh as you fall onto him, moving to straddle him.

Your hands flatten on his broad chest to stop yourself from collapsing fully onto him, as he wastes no time fisting the towel and ripping it off your body, letting it hit the floor with a damp thud.

Shamelessly, Rafe’s gaze travels to your bare chest, tummy, waist, lower and lower until he sighs gutturally again when you moves your hips against his to tease. 

His eyes roll back as his hands grip the curve of your ass, guiding your movements over his thin boxers. Rafe huffs as he moves to sit up, your chests bumping as he pulls you into a bruising kiss as one hand tangles in your hair.

“Fuckin’ tease,” he mumbles against your lips. In retaliation, you push your hips down further and his grip on your hair tightens. “Barely covering anything.”

“You’re the one who can’t control himself,” you retort, biting back a whine when he rubs over your clit. 

Oh, but he notices and hums in baritone. “Never can around you, baby. You drive me fucking crazy.”

Rafe can’t take this position anymore because he knows at this pace he might — no, will — get embarrassingly closer to release.

Pathetic, he thinks to himself as he pulls away and slides you off his lap, pinning you down as gracefully as a twin bed will allow and slotting himself between your legs. He ducks down and harshly sucks on that oh-so-sweet spot under your jaw, eliciting a saccharine sigh from you. At the same time, his broad hand skims over your tummy as he presses the heel of his hand against your clit. 

You moan, then slaps a hand over your mouth as Rafe chuckles huskily against your burning skin. God, you hate the way that the noise only edges you on further, the vibration against your throat sending a warm feeling to your core. Your other hand finds the nape of his neck, pulling at his hair harshly when you feel a finger enter you effortlessly. 

Rafe hums low. “So tight for me, baby. Feel so fucking nice.”

The sudden realization of where you are, what you're doing, and everything in between hits you with a ragged breath. 

“Shit,” you whisper breathlessly, mind reeling. “Rafe, we can’t.”

“Can’t?”

“Shouldn’t,” you retort, biting back another moan as he enters another finger, thumb pressed firmly on your clit. 

Rafe feels the way you're squirming as he peppers wet kisses down your torso, roughly sucking your breast in the way he knows you like.

The strangled moan you let out goes straight to his dick, painfully straining his boxers. He licks a greedy stripe over your bud, then moves to the other nipple, giving an equal amount of attention as he practically bruises the swell with how hard he’s sucking. A pang of possession fires in his chest, hoping his marks will litter your soft skin with the bikini you'll wear tomorrow.

You whine when his fingers leave your cunt, bringing his hand up to you mouth. You know the drill, taking his fingers in his mouth and sucking sultry. Meeting his gaze, his pupils are blown dark in arousal as he watches you with pouty parted lips. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs low before retracting his hand, moving lower and lower over your body before his lips ghost over the softness of your inner thighs. 

Rafe’s eyes nearly roll back at your glistening cunt ready for him as he places chaste kisses closer and closer to your heat.

Then, he scoffs, “Separate beds,” to himself before connecting with your sweet pussy, lapping up and plunging his tongue deep into his favorite meal. 

Your back arches, biting down on your knuckle to refrain from letting a shameless moan out, fingers tangled in Rafe’s hair and wiggling your hips to chase your high. But his forearm comes up and pins you down, rending you unable to buck up and ride his face. Which is torture, essentially, because his nose keeps hitting your clit and his tongue flattens and licks and sucks.

If there's one thing you've learned about Rafe through your time sleeping with him, is that he has no problem wasting away an afternoon between your thighs.

You've never understood it completely, but you never complained about it.

Why would you?

Despite how selfish he may look on the outside, it detrimentally contradicts how he really is in bed. There'd be times where you'd get a text in the middle of a lecture from him, simply the female head emoji with a question mark, and that'd be enough for you to understood what he wanted from you.

One afternoon, Rafe went down on you for hours. Literal hours. You remember seeing the sun, then seeing it set, and suddenly it was night. The only excuse he offered was that he had a bad day, and needed a distraction. Apparently, whereas other people used drugs or alcohol, he found solace between your thighs.

God, he’s your favorite eater by far. 

Especially now, even though it's embarrassingly frustrating to settle at the pace he's picked: unhurried. It's almost possessive the amount of time Rafe's spent going down on you, ruining every other experience you've ever had with another guy (not that you'd ever tell him that).

It always turns your mind to mush. You consider the cause: his mouth, and the effect: dumbification.

Rafe adds two fingers, looking up for a moment to see your head thrown back as you bite back moans, teeth pressing hard on your knuckle, and, fuck, if that doesn’t drive him insane. He pathetically ruts his hips against the bed in rhythm with his movements, feeling pent up from all the traveling and stolen glances and batted eyelashes he's been enduring all day.

His hot mouth is everywhere it needs to be. When he found your clit the first time you'd slept together, Rafe never missed it again. In fact, he could pin point it every time after that first try. A part of you would be flattered at how well he's mapped your body out by now, but most of the time it simply drives you crazy.

Like now.

You writhe particularly harshly and it makes Rafe groan into your cunt, knowing you're close by understanding your body language: shallow breaths, furrowed brows, incessant bucking of your hips that he has to physically flatten against the mattress. 

He prides himself on being able to tell.

“Rafe,” you moan breathlessly.

He’s never heard a prettier sound: his name falling from your lips.

“I know baby,” he mumbles against you. (He is too.) “Come for me.”

The vibration of his voice, his fingers, the scandalous situation in general has you reeling over the edge towards your high, biting down so harshly on your hand as you come embarrassingly fast.

And Rafe’s right there lapping it all up, groaning into your cunt as he, too, releases in his boxers. You ride and wriggle against his face as he no longer tries to hold you down, the heel of your foot meeting his spine as you pull him closer subconsciously. 

After a moment, your pants start to settle as you catch your breath, letting out a small whine of overstimulation when he continues lapping up every last drop lazily. And he takes his damn time, too, making sure nothing is wasted. Unashamed, one of his favorite places is between your thighs, so excuse him for wanting to prolong the moment.

Anything to get a rise out of you.

His warm breath fans on your core as Rafe places one last kiss against your cunt, adjusting out of his uncomfortable position on the twin bed and climbing up your body, nearly collapsing on top of you with little space you have. 

Your hand stays locked in his hair, smoothing down the parts you gripped harshly earlier, partly out of guilt but also out of endearment. His face nuzzles in the crook of your neck as he sighs in contentment, getting comfortable for the night as his brain slowly starts shutting off, feeling content and pleased and everything synonymous to that.

Despite your exhaustion, a small bubble of excitement rumbles in your tummy, eager to reciprocate. You move to get him off but he throws an arm and leg over your body, caging you in.

“No.”

You frown. “What about you?”

Rafe just hums tiredly against your jaw, shutting his eyes and holding you down to further render you immobile.

You try to wiggle out of his trap. “Rafe.”

“‘m fine,” he murmurs. 

The realization hits you. A teasing grin rises to your lips. 

“You–”

“Go to sleep.”

You bite your lip. “Awe, baby. I’m flattered.”

“Sweet girl,” he drones out in warning. 

“Want me to clean you up?”

“Shut up.”

You bring your fingers to his abs, tickling him. He doesn’t budge, and instead huffs in irritation. Regardless, you open your mouth to dig further, but he senses it and nudges you with his nose.

“Go to sleep,” he repeats.

With a quiet laugh, you relax against the pillow. You sigh with a subtle chuckle embedded into it, but the moment of solace comes and goes when you realize how incredibly naked you are.

Yikes. You picture your nonna walking into this scene right now with a gasp, and probably followed by an hour long interrogation and a lecture on the importance of safe sex, which is a conversation you're not ever ready to have with someone you consider family. 

The thought of it makes you shudder uncomfortably.

Attempting to move from underneath his hold again, Rafe refuses to let you get up and murmurs something incoherent. The sound is so fucking precious that you nearly stay, but the disaster of your mother walking in on you two settles fresh in your mind.

“I need to put my pajamas on,” you whisper to him, almost cooing. 

Rafe huffs and shakes his head like a toddler. 

“Dude, my nonna could walk in.”

“Let her.”

“No.”

“Stop talking. I’m trying to sleep.”

You try again to no avail. “They’re right there on the floor. You can reach them with your long ass arms.”

He hums. “I’m asleep.”

“Stop being a baby.”

“Sleeping.”

You groan. It’s like talking to a brick wall, sometimes. 

You eventually succeed in slithering out from underneath him, the boy falling asleep almost immediately when you started scratching his back gently.

As much as he loves to flaunt his tough boy act, he sure folds quickly when it comes to cuddling, or scratching, or massaging, and you usually like to use it to your advantage to get what you want. He melts in your touch, and usually with a low mmrrph, he’s down for the count. 

You quietly get out of bed, nearly bursting out laughing when you see his one foot hanging off the bed, the other hiked up across the sheets, snoozing contentedly. The urge to push the hair out of his eyes comes into fruition, and you do it light enough to be sure not to wake him.

A soft smile unintentionally comes when you study his figure. He looks younger when he sleeps, a stroke of innocence coating his features in a way you never see. A mild wave of disgust rises in your throat at the mushy-gushy thoughts, but you can’t help but swoon at his small furrowed brow and parted lips and how his chest heaves in and out deeply. 

It’s uncommon to see him at peace, because Rafe is usually bitching and moaning about something, or being obnoxiously arrogant, or sulking in his own brooding. 

You let out a breath you're unaware you're holding, snapping yourself out of the moment and picking up your pajamas off the floor and slipping them on. God forbid he woke up and saw you staring down at him like a righteous freak.

He'd never let you hear the end of it.

Tiptoeing back to his side, you frown as you notice he's completely taken up the bed, arrogantly spreading all over the twin mattress in Rafe Cameron fashion.

You wonder if he still thinks you're there, even in his sleep. Or maybe the added room is a relief, even to his unconscious self.

You shake the thought away. Girl, stand up.

The final decision is that there's definitely no room for you anymore, that you probably won’t be able to slip back in without waking him up. Or worse, not waking him up and being left to adjust and awkwardly settle back into your original position.

So you settle on your own cold bed with a pout, turning off the lamp and settling into the cold sheets.

Despite the loneliness, sleep finds you almost immediately.

© salem-s please do not copy or replicate work without permission. mdni.

note bit of a filler, just fyi lorenza isn't blood related (more of a family friend). also, a few people have asked me about a taglist and i actually have no idea how to do any of that??? if anyone could enlighten me that would be greatly appreciated!

[bbokicidal]

Joyride | [B.C]

Synopsis: You hear a familiar voice line coming from your boyfriend's phone.

Notes: Thought this would be a fun little drabble between my 4K event posts! I thought of this while playing this month's Hunter Challenge or whatever they're called lol. Pairing: Bang Chan x GN!Reader Warnings: None Genre: Fluff Word Count: 646

Just as you had passed the living room to head into the kitchen you'd caught sight of your boyfriend sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, his posture as horrendous as it could possibly get. His chin is tucked down against his chest, his thumbs tapping away at his phone screen when it's turned sideways in his hands.

He's focused, eyes darting across the colorful landscape displayed on his phone - and you automatically assume he's playing Genshin Impact from the noises coming from his speaker.

"Two stars," Chris huffs quietly under his breath, making you giggle as you open the fridge door and reach in to grab the juice. Shutting the door, you unscrew the cap with your free hand and set the bottle on the counter, continuing to listen to the sounds emanating from his phone.

"Whatcha doin', baby?" You coo, knowing it'll be at least a few seconds before he answers when he's caught up in his game. "Do you want to help me make lunch or should we order in?"

Chris lets out another breath before he answers, blinking rapidly at his screen as a white light flashes over it and the 'Victory' title displaying as the battle comes to an end. "I can help - Just give me one sec."

Just as you're about to reply and offer up some ideas for what you could cook together, something from his phone catches you off guard; A voice line you were all too familiar with.

"Are you up for a joyride, later?"

"Where do you want to take me?"

"Guess."

You whip around at the counter, one hand staying on it to keep you stable when you stare over at him. "Are you playing Love And Deepspace?"

Chris looks up, eyes wide and mouth pressed into a thin line as if caught red handed. "Maybe," He quips, giggling shortly after when you begin to approach him. His smile pulls at his cheeks and makes them dimple, the couch cushion creasing under your weight as you kneel beside him.

"Show me what outfits you have on the boys!" You grin, reaching to tap at his screen to try and get back to the main page. You want to see what guy he has to greet him, what outfits he puts the guys in, and how many Kitty Card badges he's collected! "Do you have any 5-Star Memories?"

Chris giggles, this time a little more sheepish as he taps into his Memories and tips his phone to show you four out of the five from this year's Valentines Event; The Event where the boys were all dressed up in chains and black leather outfits; The Event that introduced everyone to the characters with deliciously styled mullets. "I have these? But I don't have that many other ones," And he's a liar; Lying right to your face when you can see how many memories he has for Rafayel. Your jaw drops in disbelief and you grin, laughing out breathily at the sight of just how into the game your boyfriend was - and the fact that you had no idea.

"I cannot believe you," You breathe out, clicking through his memories while leaning into his side to see what all he has. And he welcomes it; Truthfully, he loves how into mobile games you are. It makes him feel better knowing sometimes he can spend hours on Genshin while you ogle pretty men in LADS while you lay in bed next to each other.

Chris smiles down at you while you're distracted, watching you go through his game to see all of his collectibles. Though, he's not going to address the fact that he's already level 93 - Nor is he going to mention why his affinity level with Rafayel is Devotion: 160.

He's wholeheartedly devoted to you, of course; But... come on; It's Rafayel.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix @hwangjoanna @skzophreniic

@silly250

[justauthoring]

not a cuddler, then?

requested! -> uhh can i ask for comfort cuddles with sanemi? i feel like I'd would be sooo adorable because he's not really this tpye, but he would try for is love requested by! -> anonymous

a/n -> him and genya do be my babies

(also, not spell checked!)

pairing -> sanemi shinazugawa x f!reader

he was stiff against your back, arms locked around you tense and frozen in place.

the laugh that bubbled from your throat was, truthfully and to your defence, out of your control.

"what?" sanemi growls from behind you; you feel his chest rumble against your back and the laughter bubbles up all over again. sweet, melodic giggles leave your lips as sanemi stares behind you, thoroughly offended and embarrassed, mouth left agape. "fucking what?"

when you simply continue to just laugh, sanemi takes matters into his own hands; literally. his much larger hands grip you by your hips, lifting you and forcing you to face him. you're sit in his lap, legs straddling his own, and somewhere along the way your hands had moved to cover your lips, leaving you peaking through them hesitantly at sanemi's rather sour face.

"oi," he calls, growing further frustrated at your lack of reply to him. taking your hands by the wrists, he pulls them away from your face, revealing the shit-eating grin that had been hidden behind them. he narrows his eyes. "what the fuck is so funny?"

biting your lip, you let your arms fall; "you."

and pauses a moment, as if believe he'd heard you wrong before the silence echoes and realizes no, he definitely heard you right. "me?" he echoes, jerking back.

you nod. "you," you confirm. then, feeling pity for him adn your teasing, you just take his hand in yours, threading your fingers and squeeze. "we don't have to cuddle if you don't want to, sanemi."

"who said i didn't like cuddling?"

"no one," you shrug; "but it's pretty clear."

and you're not sure how he does it, but sanemi actually has the audacity to look surprised at that.

"sanemi," you sigh, "you were as stiff as a board. it's okay."

pulling you closer by your hips, sanemi shakes his head. "it's not that i don't like cuddling," he admits, "it's just... i'm not used to it. and... well—..."

he cuts himself off, his words drifting as he shifts his gaze, refusing to meet your own. you raise a brow at the action, confused, quick to bend to move back into his line of vision with a gentle smile. "i'm sorry for laughing," you offer, "but you can tell me. i won't laugh, promise."

he eyes you like he doesn't believe you, but a minute more of your unwavering stare and sanemi is caving like he always seems to be when it concerns you.

"...i'm scared i'm going to hurt you."

your eyes widen as your face falls, having never expected such a honest admission. your relationship with sanemi was still quite new and the both of you were exploring what boundaries you were comfortable breaking and what ones you weren't yet.

you knew sanemi was a rather hot-headed man, but he'd never been anything but kind to you. sure, he could be crude and his words had more bite then others, but you knew it never held any malious; not towards you at least.

besides, his actions had never been anything but gentle.

and now, if you thought about it, you guess you could say too gentle at times. it was clear to you now, why.

stretching his palms in front of him, sanemi frowns; "all i've ever done is hurt people... i don't know how to love. and i don't want to hurt you by accident."

shaking your head, you're quick to set your hands over his own, pulling them and the scars that rest there away from his gaze; instead, you redirect his gaze back on you. smiling gently, you guide his hands to your waist.

"you could never hurt me, sanemi," you assure. "i trust you wholeheartedly."

and his lips part, as if wanting to argue.

you don't give him the chance.

"you've never been anything but gentle with me," you express earnestly. "soft and warm and gentle. we don't have to cuddle until you're comfortable, but just being in your arms is enough to make me feel safe."

that seems to catch his attention.

"safe?" he questions, "you feel safe in my arms?"

"always."

"oh."

you grin, wide and genuine and sanemi feels his resolve fading as he takes you in, sat on his lap, and the desire to have you, to touch you grows stronger by the second. it was always a drifting want, one he'd be able to ignore, but now?

now he just wants to hold you close.

leaning forward, sanemi takes you by the waist, spinning you back around until your back is pressed against his chest once more. his arm holds you around the front of your stomach, keeping you close as his face presses into the crook of your neck.

and this time the laugh that leaves your lips sounds like music to sanemi's ears as you cuddle back into him in return, nudging him with your nose along the cheek before pressing a kiss just after.

sanemi realizes, as the moments pass by, that you sink into him without a single care in the world and not a trace of fear. you lean into his grasp and hold him back with just as much love and sanemi thinks then, he loves cuddling.

if it's with you.

[minswriting]

KINKTOBER 7 - praise kink and corruption (spencer reid x reader)

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader

Spencer adored everything about you. Your smile, your laugh. Your ability to make any situation into a positive one. You were lovely and amazing and truthfully just all things good in the world. Which is why the two of you had become friends so easily. Spencer trusted you wholeheartedly. And you trusted him wholeheartedly. And so, when Spencer had come over and started talking to you while you guys were having a movie night, the topic of sex came into fruition and the admission that Spencer had never done it before came out in the air.

“You’ve never had sex before?” You asked, tilting your head to your handsome friend. You already knew. You could already tell. And part of you wanted to be the one that ruined him first. To see him whining, jerking his hips, moaning your name. It was a thought that never failed to send pulses down to your core. The amount of times you had fucked yourself to that thought was definitely more than you could keep track of.

Spencer shook his head no, biting his lip. “I-I know the basic science of it. The endorphins, the dopamine, the erogenous spots that can enhance pleasure. But I’ve never actually…done it,” He said nervously, licking his lips and running a hand through his hair.

And so, the words left your mouth before you could process what you were thinking. “I can show you,” as you took Spencer’s hand to your clothed breast.

Spencer gasped at the contact, looking at you with his big beautiful brown eyes. He looked nervous and scared but not in a bad way. He was intrigued. But very clearly didn’t know what he was getting himself into which made you so wet. You were the one that gets to corrupt Dr. Spencer Reid.

And so, you did.

Spencer was sitting on the couch in your living room, moaning loudly as you bounced on his cock. He was unashamed with how loud he was, reeling in the pleasure that your pussy gave him. And truth be told, you were making your own noises too. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” you moaned.

Spencer whimpered, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you so he could bury his face in your shoulder. “F-feels so good,” he said against your skin.

“I’m so glad, my beautiful boy,” you replied. “Your cock feels so good inside of me.”

Spencer couldn’t help the jerk of his hips at the nickname you had given him, making his cock go deeper inside of you. The both of you were whining and moaning with each other. The boy genius pulled away from your shoulder, dipping his head to capture your left boob in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nub.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure as you continued to move your hips.

Spencer let out his moans and whines, eyes closed blissfully as he sucked on your boob. You looked at him, seeing his gorgeous brown hair being messier than usual and his cheeks flushed in color you had never really seen in him before. He looked absolutely beautiful. And it was all for you to see. Only for you.

It didn’t take long for you to feel your orgasm approaching. And by the way Spencer’s breathing got heavier, you could tell he was close as well. “Getting close for me, baby?” You asked breathlessly, never stopping your movements.

Spencer let go of your tit, nodding his head and throwing it back in pleasure. “So close,” he exclaimed.

“Go ahead, beautiful boy, cum for me. You’re doing so good.”

Spencer let out a choked moan as you clenched down on his cock, making him see stars as he felt his orgasm overtake him. “I-“ He cut himself off with a loud moan as he started cumming inside of you. You didn’t stop moving on his cock, chasing your own orgasm as Spencer filled you up. And soon after, you followed him, clenching your thighs and cumming hard.

Spencer adored everything about you. Your smile, your laugh, and now your pussy too. Because after that, he was most definitely addicted to you.

[frownyalfred]

How are you live what's happening with ao3 and the AI? Does it discourage you in any way from publishing your stories?

Great question. I haven't archive locked my stories and don't plan to. That's a personal decision I've made for myself and my own content, and that doesn't mean I don't wholeheartedly support my fellow authors who do so. But I'm of the (again personal) opinion that my works already have been scraped, and will continue to be scraped in some capacity. As have all of my texposts on here.

I appreciate the work the OTW is doing to take down data on other sites where it has been scraped. I think that's absolutely the right course of action. But personally, I am under no illusions that by archive-locking my fics, I am 100% preventing the scraping/sharing/AI use of my content. And at this point, even when we first learned of that big "scrape" a while back, it was too late.

My goal is to make my content as widely available for readers as possible, which comes with drawbacks. Archive-locking fics came with a significant reduction in hits/comments/kudos for some authors, and I decided that was a risk I personally did not want to take. Especially when, again, I was of the belief that many of my fics had already been scraped/were vulnerable to being scraped before we learned about these mass-scraping incidents.

Additionally, I'm quite certain people have been feeding my fics into AI processors, ChatGPT, etc, for a while now. It's not something I have control over, and people will continue to do it even when they know it's wrong. Even with ao3 accounts.

I don't own my fanfiction content, I can't make money off of it, and I don't want to. This would be a very different conversation if I did. Truthfully, my only hope is that by continuing to write a/b/o, and large amounts of it, I can "spike" whatever dataset is using my fics. That thought brings me joy, even if it's a little silly and far-fetched with these better algorithms.

[chocobje]

Choco, I've just seen the new Sprout and Goob interaction😭 It gave me new headcanon now. (that's sort of already canon ig?)

So Sprout's always checking up on everyone, making sure they're okay, safe, etc. But whenever someone asks if HE'S okay, he says he is, or this grown ah man will change the subject and avoid the question all together. (As show in Cosmo's interaction. He literally switches the question onto him, and maybe I'm overthinking this, but it doesn't seem genuine, especially when he says 'good, then i'm okay too!' and it doesn't really seem like he's answering truthfully?)

But in the new Goob interaction when he's asked if he's okay, he seems NOT okay, but he'll still lie about it anyway. When asked again, he stays silent with ... He's not saying he's okay anymore, but it's like he can't bring himself to say he's not okay either. Like this man won't let people, or toons, help him like he helps them...ANYWAY

(Sorry for the rambling, i just needed to get these angsty thoughts out somewhere with someone who doesn't fandomize Sprout as much😭 Wish u well!)

I am yet to make another analysis on this man cause the new dialogue is so interesting... Although I've always observed Sprout prioritizes others' safety over his own the new interactions just proved my point LOL

For some reason, the wiki STILL hasn't updated cause Sprout has two dialogues with Goob I'm pretty sure?

It was Sprout asking Goob if it hurts dragging his hands on the floor all the time, Goob saying he's used to it. Sprout then offered help to which Goob says he'll be the one helping him. Then Sprout says "I don't think so".

I wholeheartedly believe Goob is very emotionally intelligent than people give him credit for just by his two interactions with Sprout. Goob was able to see through him LOL

But yeah, I'm pretty sure with the Twisteds and stuff Sprout is stressed 24/7. It's in his nature to be protective and look after others cause who else will do it??

[bucksangel]

milk and sugar

pairing: alpha!steve x alpha!bucky, alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au part two

word count: 5.1k

summary: “Are you nervous?” Steve asks, voice soft and caring. His hand settles on your arm, and Bucky appears beside you to place his hand on your back, as well as take one of your hands in his metal one. And despite your earlier anxiety, you mean it wholeheartedly when you say, “no.” or - it’s your first date with your alphas.

warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, reader has insecurities, steve and bucky are adorable and caring, steve is very nervous bc he’s a romantic, like it’s almost unbearable how much of a pure puppy he is, bucky is extremely fond and a little teasing (bc of course he is), omegaverse, kissing, there are bits where it’s just steve and bucky

a/n: this fic doesn’t contain smut, however, due to the nature of my blog this is strictly 18+

milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar

‘Good morning, darling.’

That’s the text you received from Bucky at nine that morning - in the group chat he’d made with Steve and you. And while you normally sleep in on Sundays since your studio is closed, you’d woken up early - seven to be exact -  due to the anxiety you’ve been feeling ever since your art class ended yesterday.

Truthfully, you didn’t really sleep well anyway. Going on a date with not just one, but two Alphas at the same time has you on edge - though, not in a bad way. No, not at all. These are the good kinds of nerves, the exciting kind.

Well, okay, not all of your nerves are positive. Being naturally shy and reserved has caused you to overthink every single interaction you’ve had with the Alphas, both together and separately. And now that you’re going on this date, you can’t help the way your insecurities come creeping in faster and faster as it gets closer.

Because what if they decide they don’t like you after they actually get the chance to know you? What if they don’t even pay much attention to you and treat this as a date with just them since that must be what they’re more used to? What if you say or do something wrong and they get scared away?

Now, logically, you know those first two outcomes are absurd. Over the past few weeks, they’ve each shown extreme interest in getting to know you, they show how much care they have for you, and oh boy does that knowledge make your heart flutter. It makes you feel good, really good about yourself.

But that last point? Well, that is a big insecurity of yours. As a child, you weren’t that open and didn’t have many friends. And it was hard to make new ones when you would always stutter and trip over yourself, causing many of the kids you’d gone to school with to laugh at you. You were so shy, always the shortest kid in your class which made you an easy target for bullying, especially since you couldn’t hold a conversation well and you’d constantly accidentally bump into someone. It’s honestly a surprise that Tori had stuck around this long.

And, to be completely honest, you think you could deal with them maybe not finding you as interesting as they probably thought, maybe even them telling you that it just wouldn’t work out. Yes, it would hurt for a while, but you would deal with it. However, you absolutely could not live with the Alphas finding you annoying. Because this whole thing already feels like a fever dream, and if you were to fuck it up by doing or saying something embarrassing it would only serve as proof that you aren’t fit for Alphas like them.

It’s nine-fifteen when you respond with ‘good morning :)’

And not even a minute later, Steve texts back. ‘how are you feeling about today?’

Well, isn’t that a good question? Because you want nothing more than to go on this date, you want this to work out so badly that you feel like your heart might burst out of your chest. But, again, those fucking insecurities are messing with your mind.

It’s maybe a few minutes later when you reply with ‘Feeling okay, you guys?’

A bubble pops up at the bottom of the text thread, Bucky typing for a good thirty seconds before it disappears. And it stays like that for another full minute, your heart hammering in your chest as your anxieties are jumping to the worst possible outcome. What if they cancel? What if they-

Your phone screen comes to life when Steve calls you. He’s calling you. And for a moment you want to let it go to voicemail, you don’t want them to hear how nervous you are. But you also don’t want them to think you’re ignoring them, so you answer with a timid, “Hello?”

“Hi, honey,” Steve says calmly, his smooth voice doing a good job of soothing some of your worries.

“Hi!” You hear Bucky yell in the background, causing you to giggle.

“Hi, guys.”

You hear a thud in the background before Bucky yells “Put her on speaker, punk!” And then you can hear both of them clearly, Steve laughing as Bucky huffs in what you assume is a fake annoyance.

“So, uh, I’m just wondering. Um, where are we going today?” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so awkward, for tripping over your words while talking to the two most handsome Alphas you’ve ever met.

“That’s a surprise, honey,” Steve says, the smile on his face is evident in his tone. “Just wear something comfortable.”

“And warm!” Bucky adds, coming closer to the phone. “We don’t need you getting cold, okay?”

The hint of authority in his voice makes your heartbeat pick up speed and the care that’s so evident in just the way he speaks kind of makes you want to cry a little. When was the last time any potential partner showed even these small acts of concern for your well-being? Too long.

“Yes, sir,” You joke, having to bite your lip to keep your smile from widening even further when both Alphas laugh. Butterflies are swirling in your stomach, forming a tornado of anticipation and nerves for the day’s festivities.

“Alright,” Steve says with a hint of laughter. “We’ll let you go get ready and we’ll pick you up in two hours, okay?”

Two hours? That seems like too long yet not long enough. You’ve already showered, all you really need to do is find something to wear and then fix your hair - maybe throw on some mascara. But, still. Two hours seems like the perfect amount of time to have a full-on breakdown over this date. But at least that should also give you some time to recover from said breakdown.

“Yeah, that works!” Internally, you cringe at how eager you sound. Because even though you’re nervous beyond belief, and a tiny part of you wants to cancel the date out of fear of anything embarrassing happening, you don’t think you’d be able to live with yourself if you let these two slip through your fingers without giving it a fighting chance. 

“Great,” Bucky says, clearly smiling. “Just send us your address and we’ll be there.”

Once you bid your goodbyes to each other you make sure to send them your address before deciding to freak out over what to wear. Luckily for you, and as though the universe knows you need the help, your doorbell rings soon after. Confused as to who would be at your door this early, you make your way to the door, and when you open it you see Tori standing on the other side with a wide smile.

“Alright, girl,” She says happily, ignoring the incredulous look on your face as she pushes past you to walk into your apartment. “We have to get you ready, where are they taking you?”

“Hello to you too, Tori,” you say with a slight roll of your eyes as you close the door.

“Hey, babe!” Tori grabs your wrist and all but yanks you towards your room, not really caring about the fact that you’re nearly tripping over yourself in an effort to keep up. When you both get to your room she lets go of your arm and heads for your closet.

“So, where are you guys going?”

“I don’t know, they just said to dress warm and comfortable.” Your shoulders shrug, fingers nervously fiddling with each other. You’re not too sure what exactly to wear based on those being the only two requests. Sure, you have plenty of sweaters and jackets and scarves - it’s New York after all - but you don’t know what will impress the Alphas.

You want to impress them so badly. You don’t want them to regret asking you out, and while clothing choices aren’t a ‘make or break’ type of thing it’s still important to you that you look the best you possibly can. After all, anyone who’s seen Steve and Bucky in person would agree that they’re most definitely the two most handsome men to ever exist.

Something soft hitting you in the face knocks you out of your thoughts.

“Hey!” You yelp, looking at the ground to see the thing that hit you - your light brown sweater with a cute graphic of a pumpkin patch on the front. Seconds later, a pair of leggings hit your chest. “Tori!”

Tori simply laughs, then heads to your shoe rack next to the closet door.

“How do you know this will be good for the date?” You ask as you pick up the sweater to inspect it as though you haven’t worn it hundreds of times. But, again, today needs to go perfectly so any stains you might’ve missed would not go down well with you.

“I don’t,” She admits with a shrug of her shoulders. “But that sweater accentuates your boobs and the leggings make your ass look great.”

Your whole body goes hot, the implication of them looking at those parts of your body doesn’t make you shrink away like it normally would, though you can barely stop your insecurities about your body from throwing the items to the side and picking something else to prevent that from happening.

“I-I don’t know, Tori…” You sigh, going over to your bed and sitting down on the edge. “What if they don’t like it? I mean, they’re-”

“Stop it,” Tori says forcefully, walking over to stand in front of you. “You’re beautiful and kind and wonderful and they’re going to love you. And if they don’t, then that’s not your fault. As long as you give it your all, everything will be fine.”

Coming closer, she places her hands on your shoulders so she can shake you a little bit. “I love you, girl. You’re my best friend and I want to see you happy. And it seems like they make you happy, but you make them happy too. I’ve seen it in the way they look at you, how they talk to you. It’s going to be fine, babe. I promise.”

After a long pause where you think over her words, you decide that she’s right - at least about your feelings. You like them so fucking much, so it wouldn’t be fair to them or yourself if you didn’t try your best.

“Okay… Okay, then. Let’s get me ready.”

And with that, Tori smiles brightly, leaning down to squeeze you in a tight hug before releasing you.

____________

It’s a few minutes before eleven when Bucky and Steve park out front of your apartment building. Steve is practically vibrating out of his skin, Bucky even had to convince his mate that he should drive to pick you up since Steve could barely keep his knees from bouncing.

“Baby,” Bucky says, shutting off the engine and twisting in his seat to face Steve. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to just be ourselves and treat her like she deserves, there’s no way she’s going to not like us.”

Steve nods, though he doesn’t look super convinced. It’s clear from how he spent fifteen minutes this morning in the flower shop picking out the perfect bouquet for you that he really, really wants this to work. And even though he doesn’t show it, Bucky knows Steve would be heartbroken if it didn’t. His mate’s always been a softie, and there’s something about you that makes him feel different - better than any other omega ever could.

Bucky knows exactly how he feels. Because, although he’s not as outwardly anxious, he just knows that you’re perfect for them, and he wants to do everything he can to make you see that they can take care of you, they can protect and love you. Your smile and sweet giggle haunt his dreams, his nightmares have long been replaced with his memories of him and Steve - and now you. He can’t help but imagine what it would be like to wake up next to you and his Alpha, to cuddle with you two in your nest as you all trade kisses and talk about anything and everything.

“You’re sure?” Steve asks with a timid voice, fiddling with the flowers in his lap. “I - we really like her.”

Bucky sighs, then reaches over the console to place his hand on the back of his mate's neck in a comforting manner. And even though it’s uncomfortable, Bucky leans over and presses a soft kiss to Steve’s lips.

“I’m sure, Stevie.”

Steve sighs too, leaning forward to kiss Bucky again before pulling back.

“Okay, Buck.”

With that, they both share a small smile and then get out of the car. It’s about a minute-long elevator ride up to your floor, Bucky holding his mate’s free hand the entire way and sending him feelings of calmness through their bond. It works until they get to your front door because now Steve is practically fumbling with the flowers as he figures out the best way to hold them while Bucky knocks.

It’s about a minute later when the door swings open, but it’s not you. It’s Tori with a wide, knowing smirk on her face.

“Hello, boys,” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Those for her?” She nods towards the sunflowers and daisies Steve is holding.

“They are,” Bucky says with a smile of his own. Glancing at Steve to see him nod. “Is she ready?”

“Yes!” You say, quickly running up behind Tori to gently push her to the side and give her a side glare. You’re fiddling with your clothes, tugging at the bottom of the sweater in order to smooth out the fabric.

However, in the Alphas’ eyes, there’s no need for you to do so. Through their bond both of them feel the other go kind of dumb - you always look pretty but today’s outfit just hits them differently. Your eyeliner makes the color of your eyes pop, and the shiny lipgloss makes your lips nearly impossible to not kiss.

They don’t, though. Not yet. The last thing either of them wants to do is make you uncomfortable, especially with Tori standing behind you. So, instead, Bucky smiles and elbows Steve to get him out of his trance.

“Hello, honey,” Bucky says, his smile turning into a smirk when you fail to suppress a squeak.

“H-hi, guys,” You say nervously with a small smile. “Are those for me?” You ask when you notice the flowers in Steve’s hand.

“Oh, um, yes,” Steve stutters ever so slightly, reaching out to hand you the bouquet. “You once said you love Sunflowers.”

____________

“You once said you love Sunflowers.”

Something about this gesture makes you want to tear up. Flowers may not be a big deal to some people, but they mean everything to you. Receiving gifts from partners has been rare for you, so the beauty of the petals and knowing that they’re for you just makes you preen a little bit.

“I do,” You say softly, almost like you can’t believe he remembered. “They’re beautiful, thank you. Really.”

“Just like you,” Steve blurts out before a redness covers his cheeks.

And you absolutely cannot be blamed for the embarrassing squeak you let out. You try being called beautiful by Steve fucking Rogers and not want to bury your face in his neck to inhale his scent.

“Th-thank you,” You say with a giggle, handing the flowers to Tori and giving her a grateful smile as she gives you a quick kiss on your cheek.

“You guys have fun,” She teases, waving you off with a smile. “Treat her well or you’ll have hell to pay.”

“Of course,” Bucky says with an assuring nod. “Wouldn’t treat her with anything but care.” He says this while looking at you though, the twinkle in his eyes making you want to bare your neck to him.

When the door closes behind you, you step closer to the Alphas.

“Are you nervous?” Steve asks, voice soft and caring, though clearly a little anxious. His hand settles on your arm, and Bucky appears beside you to place his hand on your back, as well as take one of your hands in his metal one.

And despite your earlier anxiety, you mean it wholeheartedly when you say, “No.” How can you be nervous now when the feeling of the men’s warm hands on you and their clear concern for your wellbeing makes your heartbeat quicken in anticipation?

“Let’s go?” You ask, face growing warm in slight embarrassment for your enthusiasm.

“Let’s go,” Both Alphas say in unison. And then all of you are off to the truck - a very nicely kept, sleek black truck. Steve opens the back door for you before, to your surprise, sliding in next to you.

“We agreed he could sit in the back with you on the way there as long as I could sit next to you on our way back,” Bucky pipes up at your questioning glance.

Feelings of warmth fill your entire being, and you already know that today is going to be the most fun you’ve had in a while.

____________

It’s about a thirty-five-minute drive before you finally arrive at a park - a beautiful stretch of the greenest grass you’ve ever seen with orange and red-leafed trees surrounding two sides of it. It’s big, but if you look close enough you can make out a trail off to the left. That half hour was, surprisingly to you, filled with pleasant conversation. Now, your previous interactions with the men proved that they were wonderful company, but you’re surprised that you’re not as nervous as you thought you’d be. Everything was moving smoothly, there wasn’t even a single moment of awkward silence.

“We’re here,” Bucky says, pulling into a free parking spot closest to the entrance of the trail. Steve opens the door as Bucky gets out as well and goes around to the back of the truck. And Steve, ever the gentleman, holds your hand as he helps you climb out of the backseat, only letting go when you begin smoothing out your clothes.

“Are we ready?” Bucky appears next to you holding a large blanket and a stereotypical wicker basket.

A small smile forms on your face, and your heartbeat increases ever so slightly. How are they so fucking sweet?

“Yes!” Immediately, your face goes hot, self-conscious of your enthusiasm. But the Alphas don’t seem to mind, in fact, Steve takes the blanket from under Bucky’s arm and tucks it under his own, then grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers together.

“Let’s go then,” Steve says, smiling softly down at you.

With that, the three of you head off to the trail, walking under colorful oak trees that flank both sides of the dirt path. A comfortable silence falls over all of you, only the sounds of birds chirping filling the air. You walk for a few minutes, the leaves crunching under your feet as you take in the beauty surrounding you, your eyes wide with wonder.

The environment is comforting, calm, puts you at ease in a way you don’t normally experience. It’s freeing to feel so content - so happy. It takes about five minutes before you come upon a set of wooden stairs leading down to the most beautiful lake you’ve ever seen. The water is nearly clear, the colorful trees reflecting over the surface, and even though it’s a clear day out, you can’t help but notice the golden hue filling the air. You don’t even notice you’ve stopped walking until Steve tugs on your hand.

“Do you like it?” He asks, almost nervous as he waits for your reaction.

“I…” You trail off, tears filling your eyes. This whole thing is just - just perfect. “I love it,” you say as you look at Steve, a wide smile spreading across your face. And you look at Bucky when you say, “It’s perfect.”

____________

“It’s perfect.”

Bucky can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. They’d both wracked their brains trying to figure out where to take you, what to do. They want to wow you, to show you that they can - and hopefully will get the chance to provide for you, they can make you happy. You’ll never go without, if you want something, they will figure out a way to get it.

“Good,” Steve says softly, smiling down at you before looking up at Bucky and nodding his head.

With that, the three of you make your way down the stairs, Steve holding on to your hand tightly to make sure you don’t fall, and Bucky places his free hand on your back. He can hear how your heartbeat speeds up when he does so and tries so hard not to puff out his chest when you glance up at him through your eyelashes coyly.

Once you’re down by the lake, the men lead you to a large oak tree merely ten or so feet from the edge. Steve is quick to unfold the blanket and spread it out under the tree - large enough to probably cover an entire California King bed. Bucky then places the basket down as his mate takes your hand and helps you sit near the edge of the blanket leaving enough space for the men to sit on either side of you.

The Alphas quickly open the basket and pull out containers of food, opening the lids and placing them in front of you. When they finally sit down - obviously with you in the middle - Bucky notices how wide your eyes are, how you seem transfixed on the array of fruits and sandwiches and cake. It’s when Bucky pulls out the jug of homemade lemonade that you choke back a cry.

“Honey?” Steve asks, turning his body to face you with a concerned look in his eyes.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” Bucky places a hand on your back, sweeping it around to hold your waist. And can you really blame him if his whole body goes hot when you lean into his side and turn your face so it’s halfway buried in his neck?

It takes a few seconds but you’re finally able to gather yourself and pull away.

“You guys are just… I can’t believe it.”

“What can’t you believe, sweetheart?” Steve scoots closer to you, placing his hand on your head to smooth out your hair, and unconsciously turns your head so he can look directly at you. “Tell us what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

____________

You want to scream. You want to yell until your voice gives out. It’s nothing, in the grand scheme of things. Them preparing food - by hand - and bringing you to this beautiful spot might just be a normal thing for most people, but considering you’ve hardly ever been shown this much affection and thoughtfulness. Shaking your head, you look away, unable to withstand the Alpha's intense gaze.

“It’s nothing,” You mumble, fiddling with your fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not, honey,” Bucky says, giving your waist an affectionate squeeze. “If you’re upset, we want you to tell us.”

“I’m not! I promise!” You assure them, hesitantly reaching both of your hands out to place them on the Alpha’s legs. “I guess I just… I’ve just never been shown this much… care?” It’s phrased as a question, because you’re unsure if that was the right word to use, but it’s all you can think of at the moment.

“I know it may not seem like a lot,” You continue, taking a deep breath before looking up at Steve, and then Bucky. “But this means the world to me. You guys are just so sweet and thoughtful and I’m not really sure what to do, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, let alone two people.”

Both of the men sigh, and you can almost taste the scent of disappointment wafting off of them. Suddenly your nerves spike, did you say something wrong?

You must have said that out loud because Bucky starts shaking his head. “No, no darling. You didn’t say anything wrong, I promise.”

“We’re just… I guess we’re disappointed that you consider this the height of romance because this is the bare minimum. You should be used to this, you should be loved and worshipped because that’s what you deserve, nothing less. And it’s not your fault, it’s every other person’s fault for not treating you like the perfect Omega you are.” Steve sounds upset, and your heartbeat increases to a degree that you’d think you were having a panic attack if it weren’t for how damn happy you are.

For a moment, you’re unsure as to what to say, it’s just baffling to you that one person, let alone two, can make you feel this way, this joyous and carefree. But luckily Bucky speaks up so you don’t have to.

“And we’d love to have the chance to do that for you,” He says softly, picking up your hand to cradle it in his own so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. And when you stare up into his eyes, you can’t help but gasp at how loving his gaze is. “Will you give us that chance?”

“Yes.” And this time, you’re not embarrassed by how quickly your answer was to come. How can you be when both men sigh in relief and lean into your body so they can wrap you in their arms? It’s warm and comforting, filling you with happiness and care for these men.

When they lean back you really can’t be blamed for the way your gaze finds Steve’s, then drops down to his lips momentarily. At this, you’re a little flustered, suddenly overcome with the want to feel how soft they are.

Steve seems to read your mind because he places his hand on the back of your neck and forces you to hold his gaze.

“Can I kiss you, honey?”

“Please,” You whine, staying in place as the Alpha leans down slowly. Your eyes close when he gets close enough that you can feel his breaths against your mouth. And for a moment, neither of you moves, and your nerves climb higher and higher as the seconds tick by.

You’re about to speak when he finally, finally kisses you. At first, it’s just a simple peck, a chaste kiss on your lips, and then he pulls back by merely a millimeter. It’s you who leans forward to press your lips together again, and you let him lead as you lose yourself in the kiss. Though, it’s over far too soon for your liking by a soft groan.

Pulling away, both you and Steve turn to look at Bucky, who is now sporting a sheepish grin.

“Sorry,” He mumbles with a flushed face. “I just… I love seeing you two together. I love us all being together and having the two people I care about more than anything sharing your feelings. I know it’s-”

“Sweet,” You interrupt him, turning your body so you can face him better and slip your hand out of his. Placing it on his cheek, you smile when he nuzzles into your palm and gives it a little kiss. “I think it’s sweet, Bucky.”

“Can I kiss you too?” He whispers hopefully, smiling when you nod. Unlike his mate, Bucky doesn’t waste any time capturing your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. It’s clear he’s trying to hold back, and something in you just can’t help but feel wanted, desired. This kiss lasts a little longer, and although you can feel Steve’s gaze on you, you’re not in the least bit self-conscious. You know they wouldn’t lie to you, so you find comfort in knowing that you can show affection to both men without either getting upset or jealous.

When you do finally pull away, you can’t help but lean into Bucky’s chest, reaching behind you to grab Steve’s hand.

“I really like you guys,” You mumble into the Alpha’s chest.

“We really like you too,” They say in unison, causing you to smile.

With that, everything seems to fall into place, the men divvy up the food - giving you most of it - and you all eat in comfortable silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other. Once the food is eaten, Bucky wraps his arm around your waist, causing you to look up at him.

“Come here,” He says with a smile, guiding you to sit sideways on his lap, facing Steve. And there is absolutely no way in hell you could contain the squeak forcing its way out of your mouth. “Is this okay?” He asks as Steve scoots closer to sit right next to Bucky, picking up your legs and resing them in his lap.

You’ve never nodded faster in your life. You’re nervous, sure, but the utter happiness you’re feeling far outweighs it. That happiness only grows when Bucky nods to his mate, and you watch as the other man picks up the container with the cake. Your eyes widen when Steve picks up a fork and takes a small bit out of one of the slices, carefully leading it up to your mouth where you automatically open it.

Slowly, he slides the fork out, allowing you to chew the cake with a pleased smile on his face. It goes on like this until the slice is completely gone, with Bucky pressing kisses to your temple occasionally and bathing you in his warmth. It makes you preen having these Alphas take care of you like this, providing for you.

You’re content to stay here forever, wrapped up in their light, and by the time you’re done eating completely, you feel your eyelids grow heavy, a yawn forcing your mouth wide open.

“I’m sorry,” You say remorsefully, a little embarrassed by how tired you’ve become now that your stomach is full and you’re comfortably resting against Bucky’s chest.

“Don’t be, honey,” Steve says, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “You can nap if you want, we’ll be right here when you wake up.”

A smile spreads across your face, and you instinctively bury your head into Bucky’s chest and reach out so you can hold onto Steve’s hands. “Are you sure?” You ask, peeking an eye open so you can look up at the blonde Alpha.

He smiles as he nods, pressing another kiss on the top of your head. “Go to sleep, pretty girl.”

It doesn’t take long for you to float off into dreamland, and the last thing you hear is, “I told you she’s perfect for us.”

tagging: @the-ginger-fairy-artist / @supernovatardis / @perdidosbucky-yyo / @wckedheart / @kandis-mom / @meteorshowercoffee / @wandaneedstherapy / @buckysbarne / @bigcreatorwombatdreamer / @p1ut0smoon / @venusfly11 / @buckybarnesmetalarmswife775 / @the-photo-hoe / @clownsbf / @matsumama / @fandoms-writings / @thornsnvultures / @sadboiabby / @lily-excal / @alright-i-guesss / @blondie-bluue / @loveforreading / @marvel-wifey-86 / @wheezy-stucky / @exposition-belongs-somewhere / @sweater-bee / @stuckysbike / @lovelylittleleigh / @buckyshbic / @starkblackwolf / @caitlink26 / @dreaming-potato / @emeraldfairy23 / @lethargicluv / @kinsssss / @perfectlyboring / @glistenuplove / @monicachic13 / @bbellen1411 / @akmenia / @shawnftjacob / @ladyravenclaw / @sadsadbabygirlrob / @hc-kerr / @iamfandomwasted / @sweetmoonlove0214 / @yesprettypleasesir / @duckies16 / @wizardofstories / @emerald-writes / @xonickibaby / @matchat3a / @hereticdance / @animegirlgeeky / @rippedpiece

[forlorn-plushie]

Styles of Prep - Games that Care

Yet another of the lies that Wizards of the Coast has sold TTRPG players, which they've bought into wholeheartedly, is that there are different styles of preparation, and all are valid for every game (because both are valid for D&D, and D&D is right for every game, of course.)

I'm gonna go over a couple games I've run, and explain that actually they all care about the type and level of preparation the GM does.

Indie games are often honest and open about what they want. To take a high-prep example, I recently ran Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. It is not subtle! In the narrator section, right after the introduction, it says "We cannot advise you strongly enough to use prewritten adventure modules". It's not just there - throughout the rules, there's an emphasis that the situation, the state of the world at the outset and thus at every time that follows, is known and rigid. Eureka is a mystery game - the who, what, how, why, and more are all set in stone. The narrator is forbidden to change the scenario on the fly.

Eureka is very forceful of this because the authors, writing a game for mystery investigations, are well aware that it's damn near impossible to make a coherent mystery up on the fly. I'm sure they've tried. I've tried. It's impossible. Something will contradict, and you won't notice until well after the players have reasoned from that contradictory information. It can be done, but not well, and the mental load on the GM is going to kill them.

It's not a genre thing - Eureka is a game about the act of solving mysteries, but so in Brindlewood Bay. I don't have experience with Brindlewood Bay myself, but I do know that the GM doensn't have a real mystery ahead of time - there's a move which is rolled to determine whether a theory is correct. Both are mystery games, but they approach them differently - and each makes a vastly different demand of the GM's preparations.

On the opposite end of the spectrum from Eureka, more in line with Brindlewood Bay in fact, is just about every Powered by the Apocalypse game. Apocalypse World is very clear about what to prepare, and it's more or less the opposite of Eureka: "Daydream some apocalyptic imagery, but DO NOT commit yourself to any storyline or particular characters."

The rules actually tell you to start on what would typically be 'prep' during the first session: "Work on your threat map and essential threats". It's more like note-taking, at that point, just placing the names of stuff that gets mentioned in the session. After that first session, and between each other, you do some real out-of-session work, solidifying the notes you made into Threats.

I won't go into it at length, but Dungeon World is much the same - though there's no 'map' for threats, as characters are expected to be far more mobile, the system of solidifying problems that were mentioned in-game into problems with some mechanically attached descriptors is much the same.

Now, on to the elephant-sized dragon in the room - Dungeons and Dragons. The game itself is, truthfully, quite honest about this. It's the marketing team and the community, having fallen for their propaganda, who pretend low-prep is a valid way to play Dungeons and Dragons.

The 2014 DMG, correctly, focuses on prepared play. It asks DMs to consider "Do you like to plan thoroughly in advance, or do you prefer improvising on the spot?", but everything in that book is either rules text or preparation guides. Mostly the latter.

D&D, as it has existed since 3rd edition, (this is what I have experience with - I can't speak to earlier editions, except to note that there are alot of modules in their time and in the OSR tradition) is a game that thrives on prep. Even if that prep is procedural - tables of encounters and wandering monsters for an area, for example - it's impossible to run the game from nothing, without a lot of background, and have it work.

Imagine not knowing D&D, at all - you pick it up, read the non-list rules (so skipping most of the classes, races, spells, feats, backgrounds, weapons, etc) in the PHB and DMG, and try to run a game entirely improv from the rules and vibes. You'd quickly end up scouring the monster manual for appropriate encounters - and the game, by the rules, demands appropriate encounters! There's a budget system! It's a game about killing monsters and does a lot of math to try and make sure it's challenging without killing player characters.

D&D, at least in the books, is pretty honest about what it wants from preparation. It wants a lot! The playerbase pretends otherwise, but they're wrong. I've yet to find another game that tries to lie like this. Eureka wants you to use modules. Apocalypse World wants you to wing it. I have yet to find any game that actually doesn't care.

[lacy-oh-lacy]

Coming out to Marvel Characters

A/N: Happy Pride! Reader's orientation/identity is ambiguous, as is your relationship with the characters :) Masterlist

Steve: Telling him is a little intimidating considering the time he’s from, but truthfully you could of told him back in the 30s and even then he would of accepted you -albeit with more anxiety over your safety. He’s open minded for his time, and he has in spades the kind of compassion you need after bearing your heart and soul like that. 

Tony: He’s a dickhead more often than not, but he gets that this is a rare time not to be. He’s quiet for a moment, processing, and then he’s nonchalant. He acknowledges what you said as sensitively as he can but he also doesn’t linger on it. He accepts who you are, but to him it’s not a moment to get sappy over, it’s as casual as he thinks lending someone basic human decency should be.

Thor: He forgets for a minute that this can be a big deal to earthlings, queerness as you call it is a lot more normalised on Asguard.Then he remembers, and trying to be supportive -albeit a little clumsily- he pats your back and commends the courage it must of taken to tell him, assuring you you have his wholehearted acceptance.

Natasha: Look, as perceptive as she is, there’s no way she hasn’t already known for months. She’s just been too respectful to say anything. When you do finally tell her she feigns just a bit of surprise for your benefit, then she’s very casual about the whole thing. She’s accepting but in a quiet way, she’s one to show her support subtly as it naturally comes up.

Wanda: She doesn’t have the most in depth lgbtqia+ education or anything but she wholeheartedly supports the community. So, between that and her being the compassionate person she is, she’s very easy to tell. She’s so understanding and sensitive to your feelings, and honestly she’s just really touched that you trusted her enough to tell her.

Peter P: It really does come as a surprise, just because he’s usually so preoccupied with his own secret that he doesn’t often think about what other people might be hiding. He adjusts right away though, he’s always considerate to your comfort and now is no exception. He’s so sweet, he’s just happy you told him and asking the most thoughtful questions.

Carol: Though she’s also from a more close-minded time, she’s a little less intimidating to tell. For one thing, she’s spent her life since then around a diverse range of space cultures, and for another, she kind of has her own… vibe. And yeah, you were right not to worry, she doesn’t exactly overreact but she’s very obvious in her support.

Bucky: He is surprised, but also curious. When you spend most your life in the 30s and the rest in captivity you don’t learn how to respond to someone coming out to you (at least not in a way he ever would) but he doesn’t do too bad, he clearly isn’t bothered. Actually you coming out sparks his interest in the matter and inspires him to educate himself on queerness in the 21st century.

Yelena: As another queer person, she thinks it’s great, her eyes actually light up as you tell her. Honestly, she’s kind of hoping that you have more experience with things like pride and community than she does because she could really use some guidance, but even if not it’s still nice just to know she has someone who’s like her in her life and hopes that you feel the same way.

Loki: He couldn’t be less fazed if you told him your star sign, frankly. He is quick though, he can see this is important to you. So, wanting you to feel validated he asks some polite follow up questions, he’s happy to let you vent if you want, he’ll even offer some insight as someone a lot more at home in his queer identity if you need it. Plus, the best thing about telling him is that he’s definitely down to …handle… any bigots you’re dealing with.

Valkyrie: She’ll drink to that. Really, she thinks it’s nice, she’s supportive without making a big deal out of it. Though she’s queer herself, she wouldn’t think to offer any advice on the matter because well… she’s kind of a mess, but if you need someone to talk to she’s not a bad listener.

Kate: Despite what an adorably awkward motormouth she can be at times, she’s actually pretty chill about this. She does rush to reassure you that she’s fine with it, especially if you seem nervous, but she’s otherwise relaxed and lets you do most of the talking. It’s not that big of a shock to her really, it’s not like she’s never met other queer people before.

Peter Q: To be for real, most of what her knows about queer people comes from outdated stereotypes, relics from his childhood, and there was probably a time when coming out to him really would of sucked because of that, but he’s matured a lot since then so he takes this in with an open mind and responds with surprising sensitivity and kindness, at least by his standards.

Gamora: She’s been through planets more or less accepting of queerness so she gets the gist, but with how shut-off she’s been you’re still the first (out) queer person she’s known well. You wouldn’t know that though, because she responds very calmly to you coming out and she’s very easy to talk to about it.

Drax: He does not get the big deal. He doesn’t even get what homophobia / transphobia is really, and yet he still manages to say something totally offensive (albeit completely unintentionally) when you come out to him -which he later apologises for. Of course he accepts you, it’s not even a question, and after that first slip up he does make it a point to try and be more respectful …to mixed results.

Groot: He is Groot.

Rocket: He’s not respectful per se, because he never is, but he takes it fine. With all the crazy stuff he’s seen, you’re really not making headlines. He doesn’t know how to communicate it, but he’s sympathetic to the more alienating parts of your experience, especially to bigotry you faced, and he’s the quickest to defend you if ever needed.

[artist-issues]

I'm so tired of people saying that the Prince from Snow White is a creep for kissing Snow White when he thought she was dead.

People act as if he put his tongue down her throat while she looks like a regular corpse.

Maybe I'm just more comfortable with death because of my upbringing.

There's a European tradition that you would kiss dead people goodbye. You would also wait with a dying person because dying alone was one of the most horrible ways to die.

In Poland, you would spend three days with the dead body of your relative in the house so family and friends have time to say goodbyes. We even have pictures of family members in coffins, so we could remember them.

Yeah, it's a very post-modern, historically, culturally-small-minded way to look at it.

Specifically in this movie (which is a fairy tale's fairy tale) people just...totally ignore the scene where The Prince is introduced.

Seriously and truthfully, BECAUSE the Prince only takes action in three scenes of the movie, you HAVE to take all three of them very very seriously. Because thats all there is to know about him. That's how fairy tales work: lots of information hiding under very brief, simple snippets of information. It's called nuance.

Anyway.

The Prince kisses Snow White as a culmination of their promised love for each other.

First scene he's in, he falls in love with her because of her obvious purity and he overhears her longing for someone to love her. Then she runs away because she's not sure of him, and doesn't know him. But he sings his part of the song, which is all about how he has just one heart to give, one devotion to spend, and he's choosing to give it and spend it on her if she'll have him.

And she will have him. How do we know? She sends a kiss to him on the dove. That's how the exchange ends; that's how she responds, and that's why he leaves satisfied. It's their engagement scene. They're promising their hearts to each other.

Fast-forward, the Queen messes up what might have been the natural follow-through of that engagement which is marriage by trying to kill Snow White, she's living in the woods, but she won't forget the Prince and wholeheartedly believes he'll come find her.

And the very next thing we hear about him is that he keeps his promise. He's got one heart, one love, one devotion, and it's promised to Snow White, and he will not stop searching for her. When he finds her, he's returning her kiss from their engagement scene. He thinks she's dead, but he has to finish his quest anyway. This is him, trying to keep his promise even if she's dead; he's trying to fulfill the exchange they had when they saw each other last.

It's ridiculous to assume that she needed to be awake and alive to give permission for him to kiss her; it's ignorant of the whole relationship, symbolic and literal, between these two fairy tale characters. She already sent him her kiss and her heart; he already promised to claim it; he's fulfilling the promise in that scene.

Crazy postmodern people, don't know how to take in a story. Not everything gets to have your socio-cultural lens imposed upon it.

[clairdelunelove]

yuuji itadori x reader, established relationship! 

genre: halloween fluff (matching costumes!) 

warnings: cursing, very suggestive

synopsis: you thought soft launching your relationship with yuuji during the halloween season would be perfect! matching costumes, cute selfies, and of course you get to post the pictures! but his mind can't help but wander a bit. after all, he's just a big bad wolf!  

a.n. this one got a tad bit spicier than I thought but my head is v full of yuuji! happy spooky season, my luvs! ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

“and you’re sure you won’t drop me?” 

“yup.” 

yuuji itadori hums, popping the ‘p’ in his response, and eagerly nods in an effort to reassure you. you don’t doubt his strength, truthfully. you’ve known him long enough to acknowledge that your boyfriend’s athleticism was, albeit, a bit frightening. he’s proved on more than one occasion that lifting you is no problem. like the time you refused to wear appropriate walking shoes during your date and he offered to give you a piggyback ride. or how, at your favorite artist’s concert, you couldn’t see them performing on stage so yuuji boosted you up on his shoulder to get a clearer view. never thought anything of it. so yes, carrying you is the equivalent of him picking up a light load of laundry when he has to take it to the washer. basically child’s play for him. it’s just– the circumstances are different now. 

because the outfit you’re wearing is a tad more revealing than you anticipated. it’s not entirely your fault though. influenced by the newest trend that pops up whenever you swipe through your phone, you developed this grand plan of posting on your media apps and ‘soft launching’ your relationship with yuuji. you just knew that your friends would excitedly flip out if they saw it. they’ve only heard stories of the pink haired male so being able to put a person to the name would definitely quell their curiosity. plus, he wholeheartedly agreed when you brought up the concept of ‘soft launching’ and even chuckled when you added that he’d still have that air of mystery surrounding him. he’s rather fond of partaking in your silly interests and trends. the videos you’ve seen have all been adorable and with the promise of halloween coming up, you implemented the plan of wearing matching costumes! and the costume you picked for yourself was definitely your size (you double checked just to be certain!) but with all the frills and patterned lace that fell precariously short on you, it was debatable. you don’t remember red riding hood wearing such a brazen dress as she strolled along the woods.

yuuji doesn’t seem to recognize how bold the outfit is, though.

just shoots you a warm smile and says, “you look s’cute,” before hurriedly averting his gaze and continuing to mess with his phone’s camera settings like you told him to.

always the ideal, courteous boyfriend. to match with you, he’s clad in denim and a dark, plaid shirt that’s rolled up on his forearms, the fabric bunching over his broad shoulders whenever he moves. and you get a peek of the fake fangs he’s wearing whenever he slyly grins. he’s playing as your wolf for the night and boy was he fatal for your heart.  

he pushes the fuzzy wolf ears over his blushy hair as he speaks up, “everything’s all set if you still wanna take that picture.” 

“hmm,” you bite your lip in consideration before staring back at yourself in the mirror and quietly mumbling, “I don’t know. what if I’m too heavy, yuu?” 

it’s a trivial excuse, frankly. yet, the hesitation in your voice beckons yuuji to hold out his hand toward you and ease your troubles. he doesn’t have to move much since the two of you are cramped in front of his bathroom’s large mirror. smushed together in the small room. you had dimmed the lights prior to add onto the ambience but you reason that it’s working against you because the dimness only emphasizes the glint in his eyes. and you notice, for the first time tonight, that his narrowed gaze on you is salacious. almost carnal in his desire for you. you— clad in a cape dyed in the brightest shade of crimson and white knee-high socks with small bows on them. it’s almost criminal for you to tempt him like this. the way you prance around unaware of the effect you bewitch him with. he casually blinks it away before you can ask, however. 

he leans in, partly to hear your concerns better and partly to offer you some comfort as he murmurs, “just c’mere, baby.” 

“my whole weight will be on one of your shoulders, yuu. not to mention– oh!” 

you manage to squeak out as you’re thrown over his shoulder. it’s natural. how easily he squashes any of your worries. and as you’re freely dangling, you have half a mind to wonder if his quick actions are intentional. instinctively, your hand flies back in an attempt to stop the bottom half of your dress from riding up and potentially flashing yuuji. a rampant heat sparks within you. the fact that you’re both standing in front of a mirror causes the tension to grow until it’s impossible to ignore and the yearning nips at you like an incessant thirst that needs to be quenched. little do you know that yuuji’s in a worse predicament, however.

“shit!– oh god.” 

his groan is barely audible with how low he mumbles it underneath his breath. the tone of his voice is gravelly, rough, and completely contrasting from his usual upbeat pitch. because, lo and behold, he does manage to get a glimpse beneath your dress. but he hadn’t intentionally looked. his narrowed gaze was just trained on the mirror in front of him, concentrating on positioning you over his shoulder so you were the most comfortable. he must’ve underestimated his strength, however, because when you shift to get cozy, the end of your dress inadvertently flips up. and a flash of pale cotton peeks out from underneath all the fabric. like a piece of the finest jewelry being unveiled in its confines. yuuji’s broad hand, which holds a secured grip behind your knees, lifts to help smooth down your skirt. he rests a protective hand over the curve of your dress, successfully helping you cover up. nonetheless, your face heats at the possibility that he might’ve gotten a glance. 

“careful!” he huffs out a chuckle as a wobbly smile spreads across his face, “don’t want everyone seeing more than they should.” 

“eek, sorry! I didn’t factor in how short this would be when you carry me.”

and his words are mentioned in yuuji’s typical carefree manner. he had a special quirk of alleviating any awkwardness or discomfort in a situation. yet, his voice sounds airy. like the breath is knocked out of his lungs and he’s struggling to get his thoughts together. his brain is mush. he closes his eyes, sucks in a heavy breath in an attempt to calm himself down. it’s the direct consequence of chastising himself to hold back and not commit to his selfish desires. you’re just trying to have fun! so why is he so worked up? was it the costume? is it how your nails are digging into his back whenever you try to readjust? how delicate you are while you’re balancing over his brawny shoulder? doesn’t help that he ponders on how simple it’d be to manipulate you into a position where he could get another glimpse of what you’re wearing underneath all the satin and lace. the prettiest sight he’s seen so far. so tantalizing. infatuation couldn't encompass the breadth of his feelings. he shakes his head, mentally pushes his brain fog away, and unsteadily raises his phone to the mirror to take the picture. 

surprisingly, he manages to recall the exact way you wished for him to pose. yuuji positions the phone in front of his face, which is covered in the mirror’s reflection, and makes sure the both of you are centered on the screen. his finger instinctively clicks the button on the screen to snap a couple pictures but he’s not focused on that. no, not at all. he’s spellbound; studying the manner of which the bathroom’s dim lights seem to catch on the vibrant color of your costume and illuminate your skin. you’re glistening. sparkling in contrast to his darker outfit. his eyes trail along the soft curves of your legs, following up until the plushness of your skin is revealed from over your socks and he shakily exhales. 

“hm? are you done taking them– aah!” 

jolting in surprise, a breathless gasp escapes your glossy lips when yuuji suddenly nips at your uncovered thigh. it’s abrupt. how the silence morphs into short-winded sounds from you and huffs from him. his hot breath encompasses the entirety of your outer thigh and the heat that was spreading within you becomes instantaneous due to it. goosebumps prickle your skin. your cheeks flare in embarrassment and you draw your hand up in an attempt to quell the desperate noises coming from your mouth. but he’s insatiable. yuuji always is when it comes to you. he coos sweet nothings to you while tensing up his shoulders to better settle you on the hard plane of muscle. 

and even as he sputters a halfhearted, “sorry! I didn’t mean for it to hurt– did it? I’m s’sorry ‘bout that, baby,” the fangs he’s donned causes a rather electrifying response as he leans in again. 

his sharp canines catch onto a sensitive part of your skin and you’re squirming in his hold. the initial pain sizzles into a carnal type of thrill. knows that he’s got you where he wants you when your legs unintentionally knock open as a result of the pleasure that shocks you. running his tongue along your skin, he soothes the mark by pressing a soft kiss on it. he distinctly hears a soft whine leave your lips. it pitches higher than usual; caught on your tongue due to the stickiness. you’re killing him. transforming him into a pile of pathetic mush that has one belief– you. his eyes roll back into his head as he blinks hard enough to emanate black. because he sees you– clear as day– or rather, what’s beneath you. exposed and suggestively spread due to his affection. spots the familiar cotton that has him gulping on nothing. and it’s when you hear his heady whine that you finally remind yourself to clamp your legs together. 

“wha–” you pause, struggling to gather your words before restarting, “what’s wrong? are you alright, yuu?” 

it’s rare that yuuji loses himself like this. typically the model of discipline and control, his self-restraint is unrivaled. but no, tonight he allows himself to get lost in this intoxication that can only be described as you. an arousal so strong that it consumes him in an everlasting heat. he swallows, an attempt to regain his composure, but it isn’t enough to clear his throat as he speaks up.

“c’mon baby,” he huskily rasps, “don’t make me spell it out for you.”

and he doesn’t need to because it is oh-so apparent. from the way his lips part, to the discreet buck of his hips against the bathroom counter; it’s obvious that he’s gone. indulging in the sweetest treat of the season. just the sight of you has him keening. his fingers, which kept a respectable distance, now path higher up your dress. blunt fingertips press against the inner portion of your thigh and your gasps become broken as he uses his strength to ease your legs wider. pries you open with a rawness that has you stupefied and unblinking. presses a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on your thigh. he’s so close to where you secretly wish for him to touch you. and gosh do you just want his thick fingers to prod a little further so you can chase that pleasure.

“y’know I want you.” 

there’s a hint of pleading in his voice– he’s begging you to understand the effect you have on him. how utterly wrecked he is for you. all dressed up like this for him. his grip gets firmer to the point where your plushness seeps from beneath his fingertips. and it’s the sight that he stares at through the mirror that has him panting like an overworked dog. mouth open as his mind reels in passion. he’s caught in a daze. because your legs are enticingly spread again to invite the warmth that his touches cast upon you. and this time it's intentional. droopy eyes honing in on the prettiest view he’s ever had the honor of seeing. can almost hear the moment his self-restraint snaps. he has half a mind to frantically take another picture of this position, one that he’ll personally have for safekeeping, and zooms in on your figure in the camera’s frame. a lazy smirk settles on his face–well, it comes off as almost smug because of his pearly canines– but it's not. he's fully devoted to you. absolutely under your command. literal hearts in his eyes as he snaps a couple pictures and murmurs about how your beauty leaves him in disbelief. can't imagine how he got so lucky. a drawn out groan leaves his lips once he realizes that his pretty red riding hood was all desperate for him. then, he drops his phone back in his pocket, deciding that he’ll deal with it later. his other hand, now free, traces along the curve of the bottom of your skirt and lifts the frilly fabric up. 

“wanted you ever since I saw you wearin’ this f’me.” 

your mind is so static that you can’t hear his confession. and before you can ask him to repeat himself, he’s carrying you down the hallway and into his bedroom. 

and like the big bad wolf he’s playing as tonight, he eats you up.

[coryosmin]

Late Nights In The Office - Lawyer Coriolanus Snow x Secretary/Assistant Reader

summary: coriolanus is caught up in a case and ends up staying late. but whenever coriolanus stays late, his assistant and secretary does too. some late night work turns into something else when reader buys coriolanus dinner.

warnings: nsfw, mdni, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f), fingering (f), pussy drunk coryo, praise kink, etc.

word count: 3,600

Being a secretary and personal assistant to Coriolanus Snow, your hours strongly depended on his. Truthfully, he was a workaholic. Being a lawyer, he constantly ensured perfection to all of his work no matter the case he received. And this case was no different. He was filing paperwork, gathering the evidence to defend a man who was wrongfully convicted of a murder he did not commit. Coriolanus was always a hard worker. He dedicates himself wholeheartedly to the things he is passionate about and that was one of the many things you admire about your boss.

Coriolanus was known to be many things around the office. Working for the Plinth Legal Services alongside Strabo Plinth and Sejanus Plinth, Coriolanus Snow was known for being a hardass. He was usually hard on his employees, expecting nothing else but perfection at all times. More often than not, he’s categorized as rude. However, to you, he’s anything but. Perhaps it’s the fact that you make sure you do your job perfectly. It’s the perfectionist in you that allows you to ensure all documents are filed and organized to Coriolanus’s liking or perhaps that you’re the only one who has memorized his coffee order (It’s strangely very specific). Coriolanus was kind to you, respected you, even flirted with you. And you didn’t dislike it.

You sat at your desk, typing up Coriolanus’s schedule for the next day in Microsoft Excel as you glanced at the time. It was already past the time you usually went home as the time was hitting seven p.m. You frowned, realizing that Coriolanus likely didn’t even notice the time yet. You got up out of your chair, soothing out your pencil skirt before making your way to Coriolanus’s office. Your heels clicked on the tiled floor as you walked. You knocked on the door, popping your head in to see Coriolanus wearing his reading glasses as he read the documents from the case.

“Yes?” He asked without looking up, keeping his attention on the file.

You stepped into the office. “It’s already seven p.m, sir,” you said, looking at the blond.

Coriolanus looked up from the file to the clock on the wall, looking at the time. “Oh,” he said before looking at you. “I just have a few more pages to read and then we’ll be out.” He said with a small smile.

You smiled back, nodding your head. “Alright,” you said. “Do you need anything?”

Coriolanus shook his head. “Not at the moment, no,” he said.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” and with that, you walked out of his office and back to your desk, going back to what you were doing before.

As the clock turned from seven p.m to eight p.m and then eventually to nine p.m, you sighed. At this rate, there was no telling at what time you’d be going home. And neither of you had eaten dinner yet. So you took it upon yourself to order food. You ordered takeout from Coriolanus’s favorite Italian restaurant, getting him his favorite chicken francese while you ordered yourself chicken alfredo. The food arrived within forty minutes, making it about ten p.m by the time you could have dinner.

Holding the food in hand, you walked to Coriolanus’s office and knocked on the door. “Come in,” came the muffled reply of Coriolanus’s voice.

You opened the door with the bag of food in hand. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet,” you said softly, looking at Coriolanus. “And it’s already ten p.m. I think it’s time you take a break, sir,” you exclaimed.

Coriolanus took a deep breath as he glanced at the clock and then back at you. As if on cue, his stomach growled, causing him to let out a breathless chuckle. He took off his reading glasses, placing them on his desk before standing up and stretching. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, walking over to the couch in his office. “Did you order yourself something as well?” He asked as he took a seat.

You nodded your head, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of the couch. “With your card, too,” you grinned, taking the containers of food out of the bag. You handed Coriolanus his meal. “Got you your usual,” you said. “I’ll leave you to it,” you said, grabbing the bag that still had your food in it and turning around to leave.

Coriolanus grabbed your hand, stopping you. “Stay,” he said, letting go of your hand and patting the seat next to him. “Eat with me?”

You bit your lip, nodding your head before placing the bag back onto the coffee table and taking a seat next to Coriolanus on the black leather couch. The two of you ate together. It was awkward at first, the both of you not knowing quite what to say. Until Coriolanus said, “You know, with a highly intelligent woman such as yourself, I wonder quite often why you’re nothing but a mere secretary.”

You were chewing as Coriolanus spoke, swallowing before replying. “Aren’t you glad that I’m your secretary?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked at Coriolanus.

Coriolanus nodded his head, cutting his chicken. “I am very grateful,” he exclaimed. “You’re the only person to ever do anything correctly,” He said with a slight annoyed tone as he thought about the incompetent people within the office. “But isn’t there anything else you’d rather be doing?” He asked, glancing at you.

You took a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m not entirely sure, truthfully,” you replied, looking at Coriolanus. “I like what I do, even if I don’t have much of a social life because of it,” you teased, giving Coriolanus a small smile.

You and Coriolanus continued talking, learning more about one another. When the clock hit twelve in the morning, you realized that rather than getting work done, the two of you spent the past two hours doing nothing but talking. “Oh, it’s very late now,” you exclaimed, looking at the clock with a smile on your face. Coriolanus too had a genuine smile on his face, something he didn’t often do.

Coriolanus hummed in agreement. “I suppose it is,” he said, adjusting himself so he sat a bit closer to you. “However, I must say, I’ve been enjoying this time with you.”

You nodded your head in agreement. “I’ve been enjoying it too, sir,” you said softly.

“Coriolanus, please,” Coriolanus murmured into your ear. “When it’s just you and I, I’d rather you call me Coriolanus.” He whispered. He was close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin as he spoke to you.

“Okay, Coriolanus,” you whispered back, turning your head to look at him. Your faces were mere inches away from one another, just one movement and your professional relationship would be completely ruined. Your cheeks reddened at the close proximity, turning your head away and looking down at your lap.

Coriolanus, however, put his fingers underneath your chin, turning your head to face him. You looked into his blue eyes as he looked into your shiny ones. And without saying anything, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips. You froze, unsure of how to react. Your boss was kissing you. The logical side of you should pull away and scream “what the fuck” but the woman in you is screaming to kiss him back.

After all, Coriolanus Snow is indeed an attractive man.

After a few moments, you relaxed, kissing Coriolanus back just as gently. Your lips moved in sync with his as your eyes fluttered shut. Coriolanus cupped your right cheek while his other hand went to your waist. Your right hand rested on his shoulder while your other hand made its way to his hair, entangling your fingers in his golden locks. Eventually the kiss got heated as Coriolanus pushed you gently onto the couch cushions, laying down on top of you as the two of you continued kissing. He kissed you with more heat, biting down on your bottom lip slightly. You let out a soft gasp and Coriolanus took that as an opportunity to let his tongue explore your mouth.

Coriolanus’s hand slowly traveled up your body and to your chest, massaging your right boobs through your blouse. You let out a soft moan in the kiss, feeling your arousal pool in your panties. Coriolanus pressed himself against you. You could feel his bulge through his trousers on your thigh as he kissed you. He pulled away from the kiss to press a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck. Coriolanus’s hand moved back down your body and underneath your skirt. You bit your lip, letting out a soft moan when his fingers found your clothed pussy.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured against your skin, his fingers beginning to rub circles on your clothed clit. “Soaking through your panties.”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding your head. “Yeah,” you replied, looking at Coriolanus. This should be wrong. He’s your boss and you’re his secretary. But how could it be so wrong when it feels so good? Coriolanus pulled your panties to the side, running a finger up and down your slit to spread your wetness around before inserting a finger inside of you. You bit your lip to avoid making sounds. Truthfully, you were a little embarrassed about how compliant you’re being under Coriolanus’s touch. Shouldn’t you be fighting it?

Truthfully, you’ve been wanting this for a while. Coriolanus was a very attractive man. Being 6’0, blond, a skinny but athletic build, you couldn’t help but be physically attracted to the man. Not to mention, his personality wasn’t so bad either when you get to know him. Yes, he’s absolutely a dick to everyone he knows, including to Sejanus who’s his best friend. But he was always so kind to you. Or at least what can be considered kindness in his eyes. So maybe you have always had a crush on your boss. But how could you not?

Coriolanus thrusted his finger in and out of you gently. You held back a moan, not wanting to make any noise. Coriolanus kissed your neck as he fingered you, adding a second finger and curling them inside of you. You inhaled sharply, biting back a moan. “Don’t be shy, darling,” Coriolanus murmured in your ear. “Want to hear those pretty noises,” he said as he sped up his movements with his fingers, hitting that spongy spot repeatedly. Unable to help yourself, you moaned, cheeks flushing in embarrassment from your noises. “So good,” Coriolanus cooed before sucking on your pulse point.

The office was filled with the sounds of your moans and the squelching of your pussy as Coriolanus fingered you. You could feel yourself getting close, arching your back in the process. “So close,” you said, practically whining.

Coriolanus smirked against your skin as he pulled his fingers out of your cunt, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. “I want to taste you,” Coriolanus breathed out, pressing a kiss onto your lips. He undid the buttons on your blouse, revealing your black lace bra. You watched Coriolanus as he took in the curvature of your breasts, admiring your form. “So beautiful,” he murmured, taking your shirt and tossing it to the side. Coriolanus licked his lips as his hands made their way to your skirt, hiking it up enough to reveal your matching black lace panties. He moved down your body so that his face was near your thighs as he hooked his fingers underneath the fabric of your panties, pulling them down. Coriolanus let out a shaky breath as he saw your glistening pussy. He took your panties off of you, stuffing them into his trouser pocket as he spread your legs.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” Coriolanus said, licking his lips in anticipation. His eyes were fixated on your pussy, as though already drunk.

“Please,” you said, biting your lip.

And without any further hesitation, Coriolanus took your “please” as a signal to dive right in. He immediately buried his face into your cunt, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit before assaulting your clit with his tongue. Unable to help it, you moaned loudly, bringing a hand down to grip Coriolanus’s curls, tugging on them. Coriolanus let out a moan against your pussy, sending vibrations through you.

The blond sucked and tongued at your clit, eating you out messily but oh-so-good. You relished in the feeling, not a single thought in your brain other than about Coriolanus’s skilled mouth against your cunt. Coriolanus’s tongue dipped into your hole, his nose rubbing against your clit. You moaned loudly, grinding your hips against Coriolanus’s face. “Oh my god,” you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut. You could feel your orgasm approaching quickly as you arched your back and threw your head back in pleasure. And soon, your thighs were clamping around Coriolanus’s head as you came undone on his tongue. Coriolanus groaned against your pussy, eating you out through your orgasm.

And when you finished, you relaxed against the cushions of the leather couch. Coriolanus pulled away from your cunt, his lips and face glistening from your juices. His eyes were displayed and glossy, most definitely drunk off of the taste of your cunt. He stood up, his bulge very prominent in his black trousers. “You taste so good,” he said thickly, looking at you.

You breathed heavily as you came down from your high, looking up at Coriolanus. “Uh…” you began, unsure of how to respond. “Thank you,” you said shyly.

Coriolanus smirked as he reached up to unbutton his button-up shirt. “I’m not done with you yet though.”

You couldn’t help the grin forming on your face as you looked at your boss. “I didn’t expect you to be,” you replied.

Coriolanus finished unbuttoning his shirt but kept it on, revealing his well-toned chest. You bit your lip as you looked at him. He then unbuckled his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down along with his boxers, revealing his large red and angry cock. Your eyes widened at how big Coriolanus was. You’re obviously weren’t a virgin. However, all of your sexual partners were not as largely endowed as Coriolanus was. Noticing you staring at his cock, Coriolanus spoke, “Everything okay?”

Your gaze moved from his cock to his eyes as you processed what Coriolanus had asked. “Huh? Oh. Yes,” you said, swallowing. “You’re just much bigger than what I’m used to,” you said shyly.

Coriolanus smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment then,” he said, making his way over to you. “Will I still be able to fuck you?” He asked softly, making his way back onto the couch and crawling on top of you.

You nodded your head. “Yes,” you murmured, looking up at Coriolanus with doe eyes.

Coriolanus smirked back, pressing a kiss onto your lips. “Good,” he said as he reached between your bodies, gripping his cock and guiding it to your pussy. He rubbed the tip along your cunt, spreading your wetness around. You let out a shaky breath as his cock rubbed your clit. Coriolanus let out a soft groan as he moved his cock to your hole, slowly easing himself inside of you. There was a slight stretch, causing you to whine a little bit. He was bigger than what you’re used to so it hurt a little bit. When Coriolanus bottomed out, he stayed still, gently kissing your lips.

You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. Coriolanus stayed still for a few minutes as you adjusted to his size and when he felt you relax, he slowly moved his hips. He pulled away from the kiss to look at you. Your pretty face was looking up at him as he moved his hips slowly. “Truthfully, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” Coriolanus murmured, dipping his head into the crevice of your neck.

You let out a soft moan as Coriolanus began moving his hips, wrapping a leg around him. “Been wanting this for a while too,” you sighed, closing your eyes as your hand made its way to his curls, entangling your fingers in his hair once more. Coriolanus let out a shaky moan, moving his hips faster as he got into a rhythm. You both let out moans as he moved.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” Coriolanus said, kissing your neck. “Clenching me so good,” he said, burying his cock deep inside of you with each thrust.

You moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as you relished in Coriolanus’s big cock deep inside of you. It felt so good to finally be stretched out so well. “You feel so good,” you said, pressing a kiss onto Coriolanus’s shoulder.

For what was supposed to be just a hookup with your boss, it certainly seemed much more intimate than it should be.

Just as you thought that, Coriolanus pulled back, pulling out of you completely. “Stand up for me,” he said as he got off of you. Confused, you stood up. Your pencil skirt was still hiked around your waist and your bra was still on. Coriolanus sat down on the couch, motioning for you to sit on his lap. You complied, sitting down on Coriolanus’s lap. He wrapped an arm around you, using his other hand to grip his cock and insert himself back into your pussy.

You both moaned as you sunk down onto his cock. And when he was fully inside of you, you took it upon yourself to start riding him. You bounced your hips up and down slowly, your hands resting on Coriolanus’s shoulders for stability. Coriolanus’s hands gripped your ass, kneading at the flesh as you rode him. “Doing so good, darling,” Coriolanus groaned, closing his eyes in pleasure. “So fucking wet.”

Coriolanus’s cock, in this angle, was going inside of you deeper. You whined at the pleasure, loving the feeling. “So deep,” you said, bouncing your hips a bit faster.

Coriolanus opened his eyes to look at you. You looked so beautiful riding his cock. With your cheeks flushed, lips plump, whiny from his length inside of you, your tits bouncing in the confines of your bra, threatening to spill out. He couldn’t help but meet your movements with his own thrusts, holding onto you. He began thrusting into you, causing you to moan loudly. “You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, reaching up your back to undo your bra skillfully. The material fell forward off of your shoulders and onto Coriolanus. He grabbed the bra and tossed it aside, looking at your tits bouncing with each thrust.

As Coriolanus began thrusting up into you, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. He moved his hips hard and fast, making you unable to hold back your almost obnoxiously loud moans. Thankfully, no one else was at the office.

“Good girl,” Coriolanus moaned. “Taking me so good,” he said, breathless as he fucked up into you. “Your cunt was made for my cock, hmm?”

“Yes!” You moaned out. “Love how good it feels.” You could feel your orgasm approaching quickly as Coriolanus’s cock kept thrusting into that spongy spot of yours.

Coriolanus licked his lips, grabbing one of your boobs and massaging the flesh. “You close?” He asked. “Tightening around my cock so beautifully. I’m close too, baby,” he said, pressing a kiss onto your lips. “Gonna let me cum in that pussy of yours?”

“Yes, please,” you whined at the idea, grateful you were on birth control because you wanted nothing more than to be filled up with Coriolanus’s cum. “So close, Coryo,” you said.

“Oh I know, baby, I know,” he said, thrusting his hips a bit faster. “You can do it, you can cum on my cock like a good girl.”

And with a loud whine, you came a second time that night, moaning loudly as you arched your back. Your body was shaking as you came, your pussy gushing around Coriolanus’s cock. After a few more thrusts, Coriolanus came inside of you with a loud groan, filling you up with ropes and ropes of his cum. When you both came down from your highs, you slid off of Coriolanus’s cock, sitting down next to him on the couch as you both stared at the ceiling, basking in the post orgasmic glow.

When you both calmed down, Coriolanus turned his head to look at you and you turned your head to look at him. Neither of you spoke as you just let out soft chuckles at one another.

The following morning at work happened as normal as could possibly be. You had arrived to work as though absolutely nothing had happened. And when Coriolanus arrived, he acted as though nothing had happened. You both had gone along with your days. That was until around lunch time when you received a note from Coriolanus that wrote “Let me take you out on a proper date tonight for dinner, my treat. We’ll go after work. Come to my office with your response. - Coriolanus”

It was safe to say that Coriolanus Snow most definitely took you out to dinner at a very high end restaurant. Which most certainly led to him taking you home that night and fucking you so good that you were able to see stars.

[stories4eve]

★ THE NEXT GENERATION OF HEROES, PARENTAL DYNAMICS!!★

( excuse me for any mischaracterzations of the beasts... I don't know their characters all that well yet!)

(★ @batshikns ... feels nessecary to tag you in this)

Pure Vanilla + his children.

★ Frozen yogurt, being his first child, already establishes a heavy attachment to each other. He absolutely loves his eldest. No matter how much he grows or how he changes, he will always be there to extend a hand to him and welcome him back into his open arms. Pure Vanilla, however, has concerns about his isolation. He tries to get him to make more friends, introduce him to other cookies, and what not. But he watches as they all misunderstand and leave Yogurt behind all alone. So, he picks him up, holds him tight in hopes that he gets the message that "I will always be here for you." But that isn't always something Frozen Yogurt remembers. When both his children do end up spiraling down, he can't help but still blame himself for not trying enough. Maybe if he had been there with Yogurt during that first revelation, this wouldn't have happened. He's not a perfect parent. No one is. There are times when he messes up, times when he has to look to both Hollyberry and Dark Cacao for help. But one thing will always remain: He will have himself ready for his children no matter what happens to them. He is always ready to lead them back on the path if they stray.

★ Cream Vanilla and him are close enough. She's his little angel. Beautiful little girl, whose smile is as bright as the sun. However, he seems to be too careful with her sometimes, and that can frustrate her. He's careful of what he says, but sometimes that little slip of the truth can hurt her by accident. It's not something that's huge, but over time, it can do something to Cream Vanilla. She knows she's not as great as her older brother, but can't understand why Pure Vanilla can't be honest to her about it.. I mean, it's what everyone thinks, right? But Pure Vanilla believes wholeheartedly that she is capable, just not in what Frozen Yougurt's able to achieve. Elsewhere, she will thrive, and he wants to tell her that, but the misunderstanding of his words is something that sticks to Cream Vanilla because because the mindset she's grown to have. Nontheless, he will love her no matter how much she grows to disdain him or curse him. He just wishes that she would wake up from the lies that she's built to protect herself and see that maybe she too has a chance at a fulfilling life.

Shadow Milk + his children

★ Shadow Milk never thought he'd ever be a father, but now here he stands. Despite all the knowledge he's collected over the years, nothing would have ever prepared him for fatherhood to this extent. He, truthfully, tries his best with Frozen Yogurt. Tries to teach him how to hone his magic, and they do form a relationship. One that's genuine, however, with flaws. Shadow Milk is more pushy with him to certain extents, too weary of him ending up like him someday. And when he finally does, Shadow Milk can't help but wonder - was it his insistence that he get out and really show out, caused this? After all, his son can only take so much, he wasn't born to be alone. With raising him, Shadow Milk takes a little bit of a different approach. With Vanillas' all-too-caring nature, someone has to be there to also be a little firmer. That doesn't change the fact that he loves his son. And when the end of his manic episode comes, when push comes to shove, and all has been said.. Like his husband, he will be ready to welcome him back. Albeit, he'll be a little more scolding, ruffling his hair and shaking his head, telling him to never attempt something like that again, all in good nature, though! He was definitely an emotional parent the very least. Part of him kept the joker side of himself, so trust me when I say that Frozen is tired of the badly timed dad jokes. He knows that he says them to spite him, and that's what he hates. They do love each other though.

★ Cream Vanilla? Oh they were the closest with each other! When she was younger, he'd dress up with her, make puppet shows, and other things for her to enjoy. She truly was his little princess. He sees a lot of Candy Apple in her, and that sort of endears him a little, so willing to learn and understand everything around her. However, he can't help but notice as she got older, she tried to avoid him. Was it something he said or did? Was it because he managed to call her out on every lie she told..? I mean, being his daughter, and him being the master of lies, it wasn't hard to tell-- atleast to himself-- when she was lying. What did she want to lie about anyway? Maybe it was how she truly felt, abandoned.. Not enough, never enough for everyone else? He hates the thought of her self-loathing. Does she even know how much he adores her? How much will he give up for her and her brother? Albeit, he is a little blind to her jealousy towards her older brother, and doesn't understand her reasonings then. When she turns away from them for good, he can't help but feel conflicted. He learns of how she feels truthfully, how she lied just like him to protect herself and others from the world that they live in. He then finds that he understands her, and he will use that understanding to drag her back into the light, just as his other half did with himself.

Golden Cheese + Her children

★ Golden Cheese adores her first son dearly. Her children are her dearest treasures through it all! Goldie is a very involved mother within her child's life. Always checking in, always making sure Pepperjack has enough of everything. She even offered to train him in his combat, seeing as he uses a spear too! She teaches him to hold his head up high, never let the world make you kneel, instead make the world kneel to you. However, she can't help but sense the slight itch of doubt he has. He can't act as tall as he does around her, for she will see it. Golden Cheese makes it her goal to make him fully believe that he is capable of taking on her throne. Leading his people as he should, but sometimes, they can and will argue about it. Pepperjack is too careful. He needs to be bolder. Being too safe will only get so far. He needs to find a balance between the two as she has. Because they're both such large personalities, there's bound to be clashes in between and some distance. In the end, they resolve it through Spice having to convince her to try again with him. After all, that's what she did with Spice. Why not lend a hand to their son?

★ Her and Saffron have a good bond. Not nearly as close as she is with Pepperjack, as Saffron is most definitely more attached to Spice. That does not change that they have a loving relationship, however. She finds his determination to be admirable and his spirit? Just as bright as hers, maybe even more! She's proud of him in a way. However, with his stubborn mindset, destructive tendencies- even if they are unintentional - she is a little worried about his future. However, Golden Cheese will let time work its magic, as it has with her and everything else, and let the lessons he's learned change him for the better. She knows that with enough pushing, she'll get him on the right track. It's just a matter of getting him to listen... Quite honestly, Golden Cheese herself is still new to this whole parenting thing in the end and is trying to learn and figure out this new chapter of her life. As perfect as she tries to be, parenting can be challenging.

★ Kofta is her little mini me, her darling little princess that she spoils to no end. She'll dress her up in the finest of clothing, gift her everything she seems to ask for. Of course, there's a limit, Golden Cheese needs to set boundaries somehow. Kofta is a mommy's girl through and through. They go shopping for things together, they do spa days together - everything! There are points of tension between the two, just your average bickering between child and parent; you know, letting the girl take her own steps, let her be more independent. And sure, Golden Cheese understands that her children will leave the nest one day, but she can't help but want them to stay, at least Kofta to. Pepperjack was independent enough and matured faster than she expected. So it has just been her and Kofta for a while because Saffron will mature as well. Kofta, of course, understands her mothers longing for her children, but does remind her that she will have their father too. Eventually, Golden Cheese will let her go, maybe after arugement or two. Only to find that they will still be her babies, no matter how much they grow. Her precious little jewels through and through.

Burning Spice + his children

★ Spice was even more surprised and even more unprepared to be a father than Shadow Milk was. He was already a little uneasy around children, fearing that he'd unintentionally hurt such fragile things. When Pepperjack was first born, he was oh SO careful holding him, feeding him and what not. He was terrified of ever hurting something he finally created. Eventually, the scare goes away, and he adjusts to have little Pepperjack around. He often teaches him the history of the world around him, how the cycle of change begins and ends, how he has a very large responsibility on his back of upholding it when he's old enough. He tries his best to guide Pepperjack in the way Burning Spice thinks he should have gone before corruption. Teaching him that destruction is necessary for new roots to grow in place. But still, there is that overlooking fear he has that he will fail his children, and in turn, his wife too. Pepperjack and him don't argue a lot about much, but when they do, it does get messy. He kind of has to knock sense into him to try and reconnect with his mother during points of distance, but it's just for his sake in the end. Very much huge papa bear vibes from him <3

★ Spice and Golden Saffron are tight-knit. He teaches the boy how to fight and use an axe or other close ranged weapons! He worries the most about his future, though. Because he recognizes his thinking process, he recognizes that little part of himself in him. So he will sit him down, warn him and tell him that all that he had worked for, all that he has done to better himself would have been for nothing if Golden Saffron looses himself to destruction. He is a storyteller at heart and takes Saffron through the historic ruins of his temples and what not to bond with him. For the most part, growing up, they had a good relationship. Spice would help Saffron with those powers of his.. But the older Saffron got, the more pressure was applied on him, and that seemed to sort of cause a little rift in the relationship they have. Small arugements over outbursts turned into larger disagreements. Finally, everything comes out, and they resolve it through an intense spar. This time, Golden Cheese is the one to smack them both into sense to get along. They eventually reconnect and find peace.

★ Kofta is his pride and joy.. No, literally, he is doting on her from day one. From allowing her to dress him up in pink, huge bows, and telling her exaggerated stories about him and her mother.. Those are some of the better memories they have together. Just enjoying each other's company, Kofta looks up to her father. She thinks he's strong, one of the strongest people she will ever have the pleasure of meeting. That doesn't really change the older she gets. Sure, they turn their hangouts into more mature things-- like sparring or running errands together. However, they do tend to argue over Koftas own ever expanding ego and how she might need to tone it down a little. Other than that, it's a loving relationship between them, probably the one child Spice fights with the least, much to Golden Cheeses pleasure. Overall, she trusts him and looks to him for help, too. She enjoys messing with him as well, as much as she loves him. I mean, sure that gets her chased around, but it's all in good, loving nature between her and her papa <33

White Lily + Her child (and reaction to her untimely death)

★ Nodding Lily was White Lily's little miracle, her blessing from above. She adores her baby girl and finds their similarities in physical appearance, in almost everything so fascinating. She's always wanted to be a mother, wanting to know how it felt like to raise a cookie from the start. So she tries her best to be mentally prepared for her, to be there when she needs it. She absolutely encourages her creativity, and Nodding Lily finds her mothers support to be her stone when creating. They don't argue at all. Rather, they will sit and talk it out because they aren't the type to aruge. Whatever issues they have, Lily and her can resolve through peaceful conversation.. To a degree. White Lily isn't a perfect mom, but she sure is trying her hardest.. As for how she takes Nodding Lily's death? Oh, she's grieving, mourning her every hour of the day. There's a sort of bitterness that grows within her towards the others. How come their child wasn't subjected to Nodding Lily's own self-sacrificing power.. Was it her? Was it her fault that she let her child be pushed to the edge? She only now has her partner and can be seen holding onto them tighter ever since their child died. She had her whole life ahead of her, and now this? Was this how it felt like to loose too..? Maybe she understands the bitterness that Golden Cheese holds against her better now that she's experienced loss of her own. White Lily will leave her flowers every time, hoping that her baby, from wherever she's watching, will understand that she's still looking out for her.

Silent Salt + their child (and their reaction to her untimely death)

★Silent Salt.. How should I put it? Was it somewhat prepared? I mean, they understood this is what White Lily wanted the most, and who are they to deny her of anything? Come to find, they absolutely adore her too. She teaches them how to be more open-minded, stop oppresing certain parts about themselves, and teaches them how to be creative. In return, they teach her how to fight, use her powers, and try to guide her through a path of unity and solidarity instead of the crushing path of oppression. Often, they would be found walking together, painting or doing other things. They have this special spot near the old silver tree, where her and them have planted three lilies. One large purple one, the other a medium-sized white lily, and the last a small magenta Nodding Lily in the middle. Its a reminder that the three of them are a family forever. With the lessons she has taught them, they instill in her that her biggest source of support are the people that she holds close to her heart, and she reminds her to always look to them for everything, including themselves. They, too, don't argue, but they take concern to her, wearing herself out by being too much of a giver to everyone else. Remind her that she still is someone and a daughter to them besides being everyone's doormat. But.. to their utter, utter dismay, they still lost her. Failed her. Let her die, especially when it was in front of them and Lily. They couldn't save her from it, from the slow and painful wilting she took to her demise. They couldn't stop it. Her death was traumatic to her parents. Silent Salt had a hard time coping. They didn't know what to do or how to even come to terms with it. They just held onto White Lily even tighter, trying to keep her close, as close as they could so that they didn't lose her too. They sit in silence at her grave, at that special place they had together. Their silence speaks volumes, though. The wind howls, and it seems to convey the agony they feel. They light candles in her honor and even lay their helmet beside her grave as a reminder that she isn't alone.. even in the afterlife. They will carry her legacy within them, but that doesn't change the fact that she is gone.

Dark Cacao + his daughter

★ Choco Oat and him have such a complex relationship. He sees a lot of him within her, but also not. He understands the need she has to keep her kingdom and her people safe, but wants her to understand so desperately that she needs to stop and take it easy sometimes. But she is stubborn and unreltning, and he is too. That causes frustration that boils down into a huge argument. They also tend to bicker about smaller thing.. Choco Oat never really found it in herself to truly forgive her father for what he's done to Dark Choco. There's that, too. But she knows that he's trying. There are sweet moments between them where she'll climb onto his back as he sits.. filling out documents and whatnot. He'll braid her hair for her or style it when she can. They are still loving, and she has a somewhat better childhood than Choco had. Because he has learned from his past mistakes. He's as patient as he can be with her in the end, but sometimes it gets frustrating to talk to such a perfectionist. He does not understand why she must overthink every minute detail until he steps back and realizes he, too, in a way, was like that. But he cannot voice his sympathy for her without her retalating.. Insiting that she was fine and could handle it on her own. When her powers first came in, he was terrified that she would misuse them and end up like Dark Choco. So, he would encourage her to put its use to a minimum and try her best to repress it. Choco Oat somewhat understands, but doesn't as well.. Part of her wants to be free to use it, and feels slight bitterness about her father's response to it, the other part of her undersands that her and Dark Cacao share a common goal of wanting to protect the kingdom.. And that includes protecting them from her own power, too. But Mystic Flour takes notice of this, and rest assured she and Dark Choco will not tolerate this distance between them. After a long and angsty argument, they finally are honest and open-minded with each other, embracing one another as father and daughter do.. and with the help of Mystic Flour and his son, they build a better bond and learn to be there for each other when it was needed.

Mystic Flour + her daughter.

★ Choco oat and her are closer than she is with Cacao. Mystic Flour understands her baby girl and was actually the most prepared one to have a child as Cloud Haetae is not far from one. Though she has her own fears, she knows that under the right guidance, Choco Oat will turn out just fine. They spend some quality time together, weaving shrouds, tapestrys that tell stories. She often weaves silken robes for her daughter, and most of the clothes Choco Oat wears is from her mother. Because Mystic Flour seems to be the only one who understands her sense of style and comfort at the same time. Mystic Flour and her often pray and meditate together, too. She teaches her how to be a good tender to the pagoda and introduces her to Go and whatnot. As for points of tension, mainly it is Choco Oats' ever lasting perusit perfection for herself. Mystic Flour thinks it is.. well, outlandish at times, but she is not one to outright harshly judge her daughter. She will sit her down and talk to her sternly instead about reconnecting with her father and taking a break once in a while. It's only really up to her if she wants to listen now or later, but Mystic will take a page out of her husbands book and will be patient and unreltning with her. As for how she handles Choco Oats powers, unlike Dark Cacao, she tries and encourages her to use them freely in a safe area. Be in tune with them, channel them so that she too can use it for the greater good. Though Cacao is not fond of the idea at first, Mystic convinces him later on after that argument, and soon enough, Choco Oat will learn how to accept even the ugliest parts of herself. For chosing to be ignorant will only lead her down a path of Apathy.

Hollyberry + her twin children

★ Candied Berry and her? Absolute partners in the more daring activities! Hah, there would even be periods where her and Holly would run off together for a bit, go on a hunting trip for a week or two, and come back with spoils to share! Needless to say, they are very close. Hollyberry has finally found an equal with her for her passion, her bravery, her hope is so inspiring. Ever since Candied was a little girl, she would get herself into dangerous situations most of the time, and yes, that would concern Hollyberry. There are points where Holly thinks she's a little too bold, and that cause tension between them, they either spar it out or have a messy talk about it.. Candied Berry also tends to sort of nag her on taking so much Berry juice in daily.. She loves her mama, but too much is too much sometimes, and Candied wants her to know that! Of course, Holly stops when her children ask her. She's not the type to prioritize her juice over her kids, of course. Eventually, through her help, Holly will cut back on that addiction of hers.. But it's going to take a while between the both of them to help each other improve and be better. Hollyberry is willing to be there for her every step of the way, and she can only hope that Candied finds bravery within herself to face her own inner challenges just as she has faced her own long ago.

★ Sugared Berry reminds her of Royalberry in a sense. She finds his calmness to be equally grounding as her wife's own and finds that he and Eternal Sugar are voices of reasons to her and Candied. However, Sugared Berry is more insistent that his mother should take on healthier eating habits, take better care of herself, and what not. He often feels concern for her, and Hollyberry appreciates that. She too also finds that his burn out days can be rough on him too, and reminds him as well that he is still a cookie as well and needs his own rest periods. They don't find much to argue about, except for days where they just can not understand each other eye to eye.. However, Hollyberry is a good listener and will listen to her sons cries and calls, whatever their current state of tensions are. Also, it is worth noting that Hollyberry is one of Sugared Berry's biggest supporters musical career wise, she's always there clapping the loudest during his performances, and will encourage him to be passionate about it too! No matter how discouraged he may get. She will always be there to remind him to keep moving on and to stay passionate for the things he loves. Because she has been a mother before, and having new children doesn't mean she loses the lessons she learned with her first child.

Eternal Sugar + her twin children

★ One of the ones who are less prepared for kids.. Twins at that. She wasn't expecting two kids, but she would love them both deatly anyway. Candied Berry is much like her wife in a lot of aspects, passionate, brave, bold, and daring. For that, Eternal Sugar feels sort of endearment towards her. But she doesn't know where to start with teaching them anything, what to say - how to lead them to a life of happiness. She often looks to her wife for advice and tries her best to channel it, too. However, for Candied, she finds it harder to connect with her because of her nature being so different from Eternal Sugar's own. She still loves her, don't get me wrong, but there's a clear distance between her and Sugar sometimes that they're trying desperately to overcome, but it seems near impossible at times. Eternal Sugar can't quite wrap her head around the activities that Candied deems fun and was worried out of her mind when younger Candied got herself into situations where... It was near life-threatening. The scoldings she gave were a little firm and assertive, but she only wanted to protect her baby. However, now that that rambunctious child has grown into an even more off the walls teenager, she just sighs and shakes her head... Whatever is Eternal Sugar going to do with her?

★ Sugared Berry and her are extremely close, though. She finds his love for the harp, the lyre, instruments in general to be a lot like her passion for them too! She teaches him how to play the lyre and even the harp, and he has her to thank for his great skills. They definitely sit down and relax together when the day calls for it, and she even gives him little bracelets and necklaces she happens to have found from her old status as a virtue. However, they do aruge a little about his tendency to just give up. She can not allow him to go down the same path of sloth as she once did, and he does not understand what is so bad about slacking off from time to time. It's not as major as most of the other kids' issues.. but it does worry Eternal Sugar a lot, especially because she has never been a parent before and does not know what to expect of this. Do not fret, Hollyberry will help her, ease her worries, and allow her to find a way to communicate her concerns to her children in another way besides incessant nagging. Other than that, Eternal is a caring mother and is good at soothing and comforting her children to a degree at the very end.. Even if she isn't the most educated on the topic of parenting.