#waiting for the day i am independent enough

[pretentious-blonde]

independent

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: remus loves you wholeheartedly, even when you threaten to give him a heart attack

warnings: none, fluff, clumsy reader, stressed remus

a/n: short and sweet ❤️

Remus turned the key in the lock of the flat, happy to feel some relief from the autumn chill as he stepped inside the shared space. The soft thud of his shoes echoed through the hallway as he shrugged off his coat. It had been a long day and he felt a tired stiffness in his shoulders, all he wanted to do was relax and enjoy another evening with you, catch up on anything exciting he may have missed while absent. 

“Darling, I’m home!” He called out, his voice echoing up the stairs. He was curious as to why there was no response, usually, you bounded down the stairs as soon as you heard the door open. He climbed upwards, his footsteps light on the old wooden floorboards. “Love, are you hiding again? Because I have to tell you, it’s a losing battle. I always find you in the end.”

He glanced around the living room, still waiting for an answer, his smile widening as he turned the corner to the bedroom. His eyes scanned over the room, searching for where you could have been concealed. “Dove, what are we—“

He stopped himself as he saw what was happening, heart lurching. You were precariously balanced on a wobbly ladder, one that should have been tossed months ago. He was usually tall enough to reach pretty much anything you needed in the apartment, plus he liked you asking him to. It made him feel needed. 

Your arm was stretched up towards the ceiling, clearly changing a lightbulb, your expression determined and filled with concentration.

“What are you doing?” He asked even if it was obvious, his voice was low, despite the slight panic he felt rising in his chest. 

“I am changing a lightbulb,” you told him matter-of-factly, completely calm as if you weren’t on the verge of toppling over at any second. You spoke to him like it was obvious. “It broke.”

He took a deep breath in, his lips formed a thin line as he quickly strode over to you, eyes constantly watching the unstable ladder you stood on, holding it in place. “Sweetheart,” he began, voice soft and relieved now he was offering some kind of stability. “Why didn’t you wait for me to get home? I’m tall enough to reach it without risking life and limb.”

You shrugged as you turned the bulb, looking down at him with a nonchalant smile. “Because I got it.”

No, you don’t, he thought inwardly, but he thought it would be better if he bit his tongue. Instead, he settled for resting his hands on your hips, ready to catch you in case the ladder decided to give way. 

“Whatever you say, dove,” he murmured as he watched your movements, his tone affectionate. He loved you wholeheartedly. Your independent nature was something that had drawn him to you in the first place and he wouldn’t change it for the world, even if it did give him the occasional heart attack. 

You twisted the new bulb in place, beaming down at him as the glow filled the room, clearly very pleased with yourself. “There!” You said, a triumphant grin on your lips. “All done.”

Remus let out a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding. “Brilliant,” he said, thrilled to get you off of the shaking death trap. “Now, if you don’t mind, let’s get you down before my heart gives out.”

His hands tightened around your waist as he lifted you down, hands steady as he made sure you were firmly placed on the ground. You turn around to face him, your face smug. 

“See?” You tell him, gesturing to the now-lit room. “Told you I could do it.”

He shook his head, brown hair falling over his forehead, his mouth turning into a soft smile. “Yes, darling, you did.” He placed a hand on the side of your head, pulling you forward slightly to press a soft kiss to your temple before pulling away. “But if you avoid giving me a panic attack next time, I’d be very grateful.”

“I try my best,” you say with a giggle, making him melt as the melodic sound fills the room. 

“Good,” he murmured, allowing his thumb to brush over your cheek absentmindedly. “Now, be extra good and make me a cup of tea whilst I pack up in here, hmm?”

“On it,” you say, flashing him an over-the-top grin as you spin on your heel, headed straight for the kitchen. 

He watched you practically skip out of the room, high on the idea of completing this mundane task yourself. He chuckled as he turned back to the ladder, folding it swiftly, the metal creaking under his hands. Picking it up in his arms and about to head towards the storage cupboard when he heard it—a sharp thunk followed by a yelp of pain. 

It’s a wonder your toes are still on your feet at this point. 

“Bloody hell,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, putting the ladder down and sticking his head out of the bedroom doorway. “Everything alright, dove?” 

“Yep!” Your chipper voice came from somewhere deeper in the flat, a little bit breathless but nonetheless cheerful. “All good!”

“Of course you are,” he said to himself, letting out a sigh but certainly amused. He turned back to the ladder behind him, hauling it over his shoulder and descending down the hall, a fond smile forming on his face. God, he loves you.

As he puts the ladder away, making a mental note to get rid of it the next time the bin men come, he can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips. You were a walking disaster sometimes, but hey, you were his walking disaster. He liked to be kept on his toes. 

Making his way to the kitchen, following the sound of your soft humming, he just stood for a while. Arms crossed over his chest as he admired you, feeling his heart swell, he felt content. 

He only hoped you wouldn’t burn yourself when pouring the water…

[sleep-0-deprived]

I literally am lovinggg your stories! Especially the yandere ones omg. I usually hate the yandere trope but yours is just so yummy. What about a yandere Logan, him being jealous over his “best friend” hanging around Scott a little too much🎀

Ambrosia (Yandere Logan x male reader) ~! ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒

WC:. 2.5k

Tags: jealous sex, gay sex, slight praising, Yandere themes dark content and gaslighting ect! Blow jobs (reader receiving) pet names, biting, mating press, Logan is a little mean but with good intentions, anal creampies, little bit of cum eating, slight feminization, Logan obsessing over your scent, dirty talk(referring to readers hole as a cunt) <33

A/N o’m gosh! I love your page it’s designed so cute and I’m obsessed with your writing, specially Logan! I always see you in my notifs and I appreciate you’re likes sm ,I never see enough male reader posts on this man and I’m goin feral over here~ ໒꒰ྀི˃ ⤙ ˂ ꒱ྀིა

It was no surprise to anyone in the x mansion that you always cling to a man like Logan, you were anywhere he was, or the other way around and some people being storm and Scott always tried to warn you how unhealthy it was for the two of you but gosh if you weren’t just a naive man.

Logan would just murmur out “they don’t know a thing doll” while his hands massage your thighs keeping you to himself all hours of the night in his bedroom and that was just fine by you after all this was normal friend behavior right?���.he just cares a lot is it!

In the current weeks though, Dr. Xavier had put you on more missions with Scott and occasionally Jean, and Logan was dead set that professor X was against him thinking he was trying to pry you away from him that they were trying to steal you away. Logan would be damned if any of them got to have you, after a long day with Scott you and Jean coming back from a mission you were approached by Logan. “Can you stay with me?…I’m having nightmares again and I really don’t wanna be alone..”

His head drained down to your neck looking over at Scott with narrowed eyes as he spoke in a gruff and mighty convincing tone to you having you all wrapped around his pretty claws practically humming you and massaging your crotch through your jeans getting you to his bedroom leaving a pissed off Scott looking right at you “he never listens to me dammit! I told him he needed to start getting more independence from Logan!” He yelled over at Jean in a hushed whisper

“we can’t make him learn, they are both as codependent as eachother and in a unstable way they are like the perfect storm” Jean just shook her head and turned on her heels heading down her own hallway to her room leaving Scott taking one last glance at Logan’s bedroom door shutting behind the two of you before he himself just headed off to his own room.

“Why are you spendin s’much time with Scott these day…? Do you not like being around me anymore angel?” He’d coo to you his hand reaching between your thighs gripping your cock kissing the back of your neck making you shiver. “Mh—no it’s not that Logan- never”

you’d just whine as he undoes your belt pushing you back down onto his best and slipping his thumbs under your waits band getting your boxers off you. “Of course you wouldn’t would you doll? You’re just a sweet boy” he murmurs gently stroking your inner thighs with your uniform shirt skin tight with the leather hugging each and every plump curve of you w/s waist.

“Yeah I promise Lo, I promise—“ you can’t help but for him like a puppy chasing its owner with your cock leaking a slick mess against the black leather of your shirt driving you insane feeling torn rim rubbing all against his bed sheets, “I know you mean well darlin, think you deserve a reward?”

He lets one of his claws break the skin on his knuckle and traced up your red cockhead. His face dipping clutching at your thighs with a sense of infatuation looking up at you like some god with his chocolate eyes never leaving yours when he pressed a wet kiss against your tip removing his hand off your thigh and holding it still taking one big lick up the side of it.

“Take me more, just a little more Logan, c’mon” you instinctively buck your hips on the bed arching your back just wanting to grip his head and make him deep through you, your brows inching together and the zipper of your shirt feeling to tight with your heated circumstances leaving you unzipping and stripping for him.

“Goddamn angel! you’re like sugar on my tongue doll” suddenly you were his ambrosia, he picked up his pace and took your cock fully into his mouth deepthroating letting his tongue slip licking at your balls while you sit on the edge of the bed reaching your hand down gripping his hair tightly while me massages your thighs with his claws poking out of him like some feral dog breathing in your scent nuzzling his face into your groin making you feel his shaggy beard.

“Lo, I’m getting there- oh fck~!” Your back arches instinctively leaving your pecs pressed upwards to the trailing having rapidly as a sweat line builds up on the arch of your back. “That’s it, just let go for me I’ve got you baby”

his hands gentle up on your thighs feeling your cock start to twitch on his tongue like it was doing laps desperate to explode feeling and rating your bitter ropes shooting him in the throat while he just reaches his work worn hand down to your balls cupping them making sure he milks you good when he looks up at you.

The sensation overwhelming you losing torn grip on his head feeling your cock fall flat when his mouth leaves you bare again, “shh, you did so great angel, so fucki’n perfect it’s pitiful” Logan grumbles and gets up off his knees gripping you up softly by his standards holding York hips letting his claws leave red marks as he slides you up further on the bed with his signature smirk showing off his pretty canines.

“Need you right now Lo….i need you so bad” a broken whisper floods your mouth looking up with a pout presented on your lips when his hand reached around his neck pulling off his war tags, undoing them and reaching down putting them over your head “here, I wanna see you clutching those while I stretch that cunt out” he murmurs right in your ear and leaves you no time to think.

His hands spreading or cheeks apart spitting right in your rim watching it wink at him “you’re all wet like a sopping pussy aint’cha angel” his thumb rubbing your rim pushing it in open making you squirm but his other hand holds your hips down into the bed leaving you a mess with your cock getting hard again and weeping lonesomely between your thighs “add another” you spoke unsatisfied ranting meow already after the sensation of something inside you felt good

“Of course doll, wanna please this greedy hole” his thumb gets replaced with his index finger going in knuckle deep and curling up before he adds a second finger and scissors you with his eyes sole set on your face. “Is this better than Scot? You let all guys get their fingers inside this lil cunt?” His breath halts crossing the line of pure and utter infatuation feeling his cum flavored breath against your rim kissing it as he fingers you.

“Course not Lo! Only let you stretch and touch this..only you” your back arching holding the bed sheets feeling his fingers curling deep enough to leave you breathless when his finger pads rub that bundle of nerves, “I think you’re ready for the real thing, think you’re ready sweetheart?” His voice softens up a little seeing that fragile line of weakness you were tight lining when you laid out and splayed out for him like some pretty doll— no, His pretty doll.

“Yeah, I’m all ready I’m ready Logan” your words slur out drunk off of arousal with a pearly bead of precum rolling down your shaft looking up at Logan biding back your own tears not wanting to wake anyone else in the X-mansion when his fingers slide out of your puckered rim and his other hand slips to your hip grabbing them and pulling you backwards to him.

“It’s gonna hurt for a bit, promise I’ll go as slow as you want it baby boy..” his hands grip his belt buckle and unbuckles it pulling down his pants and throwing them somewhere in his room leaving you batting your lashes at the large bulge in his jeans protruding begging to come out as you try to calm down clutching the name tags around your neck.

“Fuck Lo- c’mon please” your voice whispering his name out like it’s your only prayer trying to get his boxers down with his thighs before he pulls them down leaving his cock standing eager and tall against his stomach with a prominent vein going up the curved side nearly having your mouth water when he spreads your thighs apart opening you up and holding your legs to the mattress letting his cock nudge and nuzzle between your cheeks while he looks down at you clutching his Wolverine tags.

“Just stay nice and quiet, don’t want Jean to hear you moaning…not yet alt least” he hums starting to nudge his tip inside past the gummy rim of muscles watching how it stretches, how the light in your eyes go glossy, how your pupils go wide like a cat when he stretches you—he’s already about to come just from that stupid little look on your face, oh the things you do to him.

His head droops down like a hound shoving his face in your crook holding you down to the mattress with your thighs gripped and wide apart slowly bottoming out into you “dammit doll, it’s like she’s purrin, does this little cunt like getting stretched?”

He groans biting your Adam apple pinching the skin between his canines stripping you of little gasps while he stays mounted on you leaving your cock sandwiched between his hair covered abdomen while the head board creaks when he pulls out a little and shallowly slams back inside you making your hole go wide burning from the sensation leaving your hands shaking clutching onto his tags hanging on your neck like they were prayer beads.

“Right there Lo, c’mon little more oh!” Your jaw slacking up under him going wide eyed when his cock drags along your inner walls pulling nearly all the way out to his tip and shoving back inside leaving you out of breath. “Shh, stay quiet baby doll, doin so good so far- don’t wanna have Scott seeing you like this”

his voice comes out like a choked growl letting his claws come out a little again shredding his own bed sheets while he buried his face further into your neck nibbling and sucking on the bite marks taking in deep whiffs of your scent making you swear his cock was pulsing every time he took a breath in,

“Smells so good baby, such a sweet doll” his hips start circling around and shoving forwards between your thighs letting his spit make for lube with your cock stuck against your belly button covered in Logan’s saliva while you reach your free hand to the back of his hair letting his beard leave red marks on your s/c skin.

“Lo-gan t’much, can’t take it Lo” your voice strangely from your lips letting your eyes gloss over and roll back when his cock head presses bullying your prostate making your rim feel like fire around his cock when he stretches you over and over bordering a painful pleasure. “Don’t say that angel, my pretty boy can take it all can’t he?” His voice speaks pressing sloppy wet kisses against your neck watching your face and how your fingers trembled to clutch his tags.

“I’m tryin Lo, I really am~!” You squeak your feeling your thighs go numb from being gripped tight and shoved to the bed not feeling his thrusts let up once. Logan’s hips start to stutter a little leaving you feeling his cock piercing you and keeping you spread as he slips his hands further up your legs moving from your inner thighs moving under your knees and shoving them to your chest allowing him to reach a deeper angle inside you.

“I know you’re tryin, doing so fucking well, just lay there and spread wide f’or me darlin” he grunts letting you feel how rigid his breath is dampening his beard with his drool licking up your neck mounting you hard leaving you beneath him feeling his body weight with a small huff removing one hand off your legs keeping his left hand under your knees holding them to your chest before he reaches around and gives your cock a firm grasp at the base making you arch.

“Oh~ I’m close Lo- I’m— gon’Ah” your voice cracks in half breaking into shards when your glossy eyes finally spill over with tears of pleasure leaving your ears ringing clamping and twitching around his cock feeling your base shudder under the rough hand cumming all over your own thighs and chest laying fucked out “look at’cha squirting all over yourself angel”

he heaves making your feel every buck and jerk of his hips with his mouth slipping upwards biting at your bottom lobe fucking you into the headboard.“Where do you want it sweetheart? Want it in your tummy or that pretty little mouth of yours hm?..or maybe all over them pouty lips” Logan whispers in your ear leaving his hot breath cooling the drool on your neck making it harder to speak just letting go of his hair trying to point at your belly trying to urge him inside.

“Nuh-uh baby doll, good boys use their words don’t they” he mocks you a little letting go of your softening cock to grip your hip with one hand and holding your right knee up to your chest letting your other leg hoop around his hip and bring him closer. “I wan’it inside me Lo- please inside”

you plead over and over going breathless when you finally feel the pudgy cock head pulling against your prostate letting you know what came next, white streams spewing all through your body making your feel like a little furnace under him while his grip loosens and his muscles tense up holding you steady looking up at you kissing away the tears on your cheeks growing more and more insane over you, enjoying how your skin held its afterglow and how your curves felt beneath him.

“There, there baby, don’t cry, lemme hold you…not letting you go [name] I’m never gonna” your heart skipped at those words never understanding he really meant them, only thinking he was trying to be all sweet to you when his hands leave your body letting his claws pull out of the mattress they were buried in as he crawls from between your thighs pulling out nice and slow with a slick pop.

“Logan” you wanted to tell him you needed more and you really would’ve if the feeling of his chin on your shoulder blade and the arm snaking around your waist from behind didn’t shut you up. “I know sweetheart” the only words that left his lips as he pressed a kiss to Your sensitive skin leaving the air field with a mutual understanding lingering in the air while he holds a you like he’s about to have you ripped away, his embrace tight and firm but holding a world of comfort to your used up body.

[netherworldpost]

Bob's Burgers is one of my favorite shows for... a lot of reasons.

One of which being occasionally Bob goes to a restaurant supply store or similar and the tiny, tiny, tiny throwaway details stick in my brain.

Things completely separate from the plot or characters, just a bit of flavor. Bob flavor. Bobvlor. Flav-va-la-Bob.

(Bob, scolding Gene voice: "atty.")

Today I am scrambling to buy enough shipping boxes and packing envelopes and what-nots because the supplier is having a "we'll ship it to you free... YOU HAVE 12 HOURS TO DECIDE QUANTITY, HARSH MINIMUMS APPLY"

Running a nonsensical greeting card company has, shall we say, ridiculous challenges. I love it.

Incoming shipping is, shall we say, pricy. Boxes and things do not go bad, you can buy months at a time, but then you're stuck storing with tons of boxes, in a studio already that is, shall we say, tiny.

I work hard to not shop at the big ol' Am-glam-a-zon-bezos-a-thon because I prefer suppliers who are independently owned (respect) and pay taxes (hell yeah) and while they cannot match ol' Jeff's pricing on tiny orders, when you figure out "okay I'll spend, like, half a month's rent on... envelopes... because you're having a sale... on... envelopes" things work out for everyone.

It's a packing order day

we just got the latest batch from the printer last night at 4 AM did I post anything weird I haven't checked i was super tired waiting for it to come in oh thank god no i did not

and that's ANOTHER reason I am in love with Bob Belcher

He is constantly balancing "I am tired" and "I love this job, it is incredible, I'm building and creating EXACTLY what and how I want."

Okay that's...

...enough, too much, back to work, love you all

[freakywonbin]

The joy that comes with doing something to your hair

[anaalnathrakhs]

“work meeting” this evening wish me luck i want to run away and die

[steampoweredskeleton]

.

Ignore

[strawburrymeadows]

i, a night owl, love hanging out with my friends super late!!! until every single one of them says “my parents are super mad i have to go home” IT IS 11PM ??? UR AN ADULT??

[diejager]

any thoughts for yandere!pervy!könig who has to resist from fucking you so hard? knowing you're too weak and fragile to ruin, but palming himself through his pants whilst bathing you, or creeping on you as you sleep!!! 🥹

ignore if you want to!! can be somnophillia/noncon if you want 🎀🩷

How exactly am I supposed to ignore this??? This is such a good idea!

Yan!Pervy roommate König x fem!reader

Cw: Perverted König, dub-con, somnophilia, panty sniffing, panty stealer, scent/musk kink, handjob, tell me if I missed any.

He just can’t believe how lucky he got when you answered the ad for a roommate. He knew you were searching for a place to move in, wanting to move out of your parents’ place as a first step into independence and he’d purposely put the ad out a few weeks before you moved. The rate was low, lower than most apartment would cost - even for a old, beaten flat, but his was new and well-maintained - it was his way of silently coaxing you to room with him. König had declined every other, keeping it open until you finally contacted him.

The days between your first interaction and your move in were a blur in his mind, dazed with ecstasy and joy to be have you at an arm’s length. You were so small compared to him - as most people were - and so weak and fragile, limbs a third to his and as strong as a child in his eyes. You were so innocent and untouched, your tight little cunt still a virgin in this age. You were temptation on two legs.

He can’t remember the first time he peeked through the crack of the bathroom door, the glass shower doing nothing to hide your wet, naked skin as he palmed himself, groaning lowly as he fished out his hardened cock. He pumped himself, hand twisting as he reached the swollen head of his cock, thumb pressing against the leaky slit and using his precum as lube, jerking his hardened length more easily. He came at the thought of running his hands on your skin, kissing your collar and biting that beautiful neck, digging his hands into your thighs as he fucked into your small cunt. He hurriedly cleaned up and tucked himself back into his pants, burying the flush on his skin as he waited for you to finish your shower.

After the first month, jerking off while watching you shower wasn’t enough, he humped your cushion when you were out, dragging his drizzly cock over your bed. Face buried in your sheets, he drinks in your scent, that sweet rose and vanilla smell of your shampoo as he rutted into his tight palm, imagining that he was between your warm walls. König could come at the idea of covering you in his musk, your hair smelling like him, you skin tasting like him, you cunt leaking of him. He came so hard that it spurted all over your bed, his cum was on your blanket, on your bedsheet, on your cushion and on your headboard. Fuck, he loved the idea of covering you and your things in his cum.

When coming in his hand to the sight of you in the shower and your empty bed wasn’t enough, he slipped into your room at night, the only sound in your shared appartient being you soft snoring and his laboured breaths. He stroked himself, teasing his throbbing cock with slow pumps and watching your innocent oblivion to his dirty thoughts while you slept. He was crouched over you, his figure looming over your figure when he came, thighs spread wide over your hips and hand clawing your bedsheet besides your head, you warm breath hitting his wrist.

You’d wake up without knowing why you were coated in crusty substance or why you were missing another panty, your pretty, blue lacy panty gone from your drawer. König would be in his room, holding your pretty lace lingerie over his nose, sniffing it while he pumped himself. God, König couldn’t stop himself from covering your underwear in his load before handing it back to you, saying that he found it somewhere in the house. Then you’d wear it, your sweet cunny over the spot he came on, making him purr in satisfaction, a branding on you in the deepest way possible since he couldn’t bully his cock into you just yet.

[multifariousqueer]

can you write miles 42 having readers bank account, card ALL that on his phone and gets mad if she purchases shi with money he didint give her. its really crazy but its miles 42....what do you expect??? hehe

Sure love!!!

A/n: y’all I love you so much but I need you guys to start requesting regular miles fanfic pls. Although 42 miles owns my 🩷

It was just a simple necklace. It was the Vivienne Westwood necklace that you saw everyone around you wearing and wanted so badly. You knew Miles would get it for you in a heartbeat but a part of you wanted to get it for yourself. It had been a long, stressful semester but you struggled through it all and got to a point where ou were passing with A’s and B’s. Coincidentally, you had gotten a job at Starbucks after months of applying and you had about $1000 saved up of your own money that you were waiting to spend on something special. That was, until that “something special” came along in the form of Miles.

You never knew what he did but you knew he was making 8x your salary in a month. It seemed like anything you wanted, you got when you were with Miles; shoes, clothes, books, makeup any and everything you wanted, it was yours in a matter of days. It’s worth mentioning that Miles is extremely overprotective and wants to know everything about what you’re doing and buying because he loves you and cares about your habits.

Even on Miles’s birthday when you dipped into your savings to get him the latest Jordan’s, he was furious that you had to use your own money:

“Damn Ma, these are valid. How much were they?”

“Oh don’t worry about it” you said

“I said, how much were they.” His eyes narrowing in on you because he knew how much they were because he was gonna buy them 2 weeks ago but decided not to.

“$500. I’ve been saving for them for you, baby. It’s all good” you tried to assure him

“Aight. thank you.” He said, pulling you close to him, the scent of the Dior Sauvage cologne you also bought him, filling your nostrils

But deep down you knew he was pissed off and mad that you spent your own money, so after a long talk about how he should be able to keep tabs on you and keep you safe, you gave him your Apple Pay and banking info for emergencies only but of course it’s Miles and being the overprotective boyfriend he is, he checks it everyday for any “extravagant purchases” made by you or someone else.

Of course he isn’t crazy, he set a $25 limit for you before he steps in and asks what’s up. Once, you were at a mall with your friend and found the cutest shirt at Urban Outfitters and decided to buy it. The price tag read $50 but you went ahead and got it; the same happened at Bath and Body Works and Tilly’s and as you made your way to the bathroom, you got a text from Miles:

Miles: did someone take your card?

You: no why??

Miles: why’d you spend $150 in an hour??

You: I’m at the mall

Miles: so? I pay for your shit

You: dawg it’s $150. It’s not that deep 💀

Miles: I ain’t yo “dawg” and yes it is when Yk I buy you shit

You: you aren’t my sugar daddy

Miles: I basically am atp. I’m sending you $1000, buy something cute

You contemplated leaving him on seen but you remembered how he hates that so you replied:

You: Okay

You had saved up enough to get the necklace and when you got it, you were ecstatic. You thought about all of the possible outfit combos and how good it will look against your brown skin but your thoughts were interrupted by a certain someone:

Miles: what’d I tell you, Mami?

You: ?

Miles: don’t play dumb, yk I would’ve bought you that necklace in a heartbeat but instead you wanted to be miss independent and buy it yourself. I guess since you’re so independent, I’ll stop sending you that $1000 every week. How about that?

You: ok

Miles: ?

You: we can discuss this when I get home

Miles: K

You: k

It was a long ride home but eventually you accepted that Miles was gonna rip your head off and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

When you got home, he had three of the necklaces, two huge teddy bears, a bouquet of your favorite flowers and the newest pair of Jordan’s waiting for you:

“What’s all this?” You smiled and asked

“I told you I’ll pay for your shit, y/n” miles said, with a small smirk on his face

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

bakugo and reader meeting again after a long time like maybe katsu has been away on a mission and he just misses us so much 🥹

anon this is literally such an adorable request!! This has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time cus i could never rlly figure out what i wanted to do with this, but as soon as i got the inspo i got to it !! im so so sososuuupperr sorry for making you wait so long and if you’re still sticking around, I LUB YOU !! anyways, i tried honoring this lovely sweet request as best i could, if you’re reading, i truly hope you enjoy (and all of you ofc!!) <33

fem reader, jus pure fluffy fluff ! katsuki n reader watch selling sunsets bc my mom does lmfaoo this ones for you momma, kissing, biting (lol will i ever stop), lemme know if i missed sum else !

katsuki regrets planning this surprise.

it’s been one month. exactly 31 days since he’s last seen you. one month he had to survive off of late night phone calls and good morning messages.

katsuki had slowly but surely started climbing up the ranks as a hero ever since he’d gone independent and this mission was a huge steppingstone to victory.

except it involved him going abroad for a month.

you’d congratulated him when he’d told you. you hugged him hard and offered him your brightest sunshine smile, you’d made him dance around your little living room with you, celebrating his ‘rise to stardom’ as you’d called it and he remembers chuckling about it. you’d even gone out of your way and made his favorite to celebrate. but now katsuki understand you were probably doing that so as not to worry him.

he's known you for a long while and he knows you know he can tell when you’re lying, so he was sure you were happy for him. (you can’t fake anything from him and especially not the way you smile, he’s committed that to memory). and you truly looked happy for him, but he knows youwell enough to know that you were also devastated to find out he was leaving for so long. he’d seen the way your eyes widened and your shoulders dropped. but knowing you, you probably powered through it so as not to make him worry.

so stupid. you’re stupid. and he misses you so much.

despite you being in different time zones you make it work. he made sure to be updated daily and called you every time it was time for you to go to bed to make sure you got some well needed sleep and not staying up late mindlessly scrolling through your feed.

you send him pictures of everything happening throughout your day and you’d hound him about his, asking him if he’d eaten well and if he’d beat up any bad guys. and no matter how minuscule his actions were you’d always praise him. as somewhat childish as he knew it was katsuki still walked with his head up high for the rest of the day. if it was to impress you and make you proud, he’d be on the clock 24/7. but, knowing you, you’d get mad at him for overworking himself.

he misses you so much.

he’s on the plane. making his way back home to you a day before he’d told you he would be, his surprise. you’d been so excited, your squeals ringing through the phone, katsuki just couldn’t wipe the smile of his face and goddamnit he tried.

“ou, i can’t wait ! i missed you sooo much, katsu !” you chirped, he couldn’t wait to hear your voice in real life again instead of through his phone.

“yeah, missed you too sweets” he hums, packing up the last of his stuff.

“you better be ready cus when you get back, m’not gonna let you go for a whole month.” you tease, giggling. katsuki huffs out a laugh, looking down at his luggage ready to go as he’d fully finished packing up while you were on the phone.

“uhuh~?” he muses “better be ready for me when i get back. yer not goin’ anywhere either. no bathroom breaks when we're cuddling.”

“ew,” you snort “what am i supposed to do if i have to pee ?”

“that sounds like a you problem, sweetheart.”

you laugh and laugh and katsuki smiles, he couldn’t wait to be able to hear and see it again. expect not one phone call away, like he’d told you he always would be when you’d accompanied him to the airport all teary eyed, but in real life.

except now he’s starting to regret not just coming home on time.

don’t get him wrong, the sooner he gets to you the better. he’d meant it when he told you he wouldn’t let you go and as somewhat embarrassing as it is to him that he had gotten so clingy, being away from you for so long really did a number on him. distance makes the heart grow fonder his ass, he was more than fond of you when he was laying next to you every night instead of all alone in his hotel bed.

but right now he’s way too antsy. he wants to tell you about how he’ll be home soon to hear you squeal and giggle, but he sucks it up in favor of surprising you.

it’ll be worth it. at least that’s what he tried to convince himself when he finished packing up. and on his way to the airport. and on the plane..

who even thought of this stupid surprise idea anyway ?!

he can’t sit still. he has to stop himself from tapping his foot against the floor and shuffling around in his seat. the guy in front of him keeps reclining his seat back but it doesn’t bother him that much, because all he needs is to remember your smile and remember he’s coming home to you, and he feels his nerves settle. recliner-seat-guy be damned.

it’s pitch black by the time he’s off the plane and finally back home. when he checks his phone he sees it’s 2:09 am and you’re no doubt dead asleep by now, he smiles at his phone screen when he sees you smiling back at him.

his limbs suddenly feel heavier the higher the numbers show on the screen inside the elevator to his floor. his body buzzes with excitement but for some reason he can’t help feeling nervous. katsuki knows it’s stupid because you tell him every day how much you miss him and how excited you are to see him. all he wants right now is to see you.

he fumbles around a bit when he fits his keys into the door to walk into your tiny shared apartment and when he finally walks back inside, katsuki is reminded why he does this. why he’s been gone for exactly 31 days.

he kicks his shoes off quietly and sees yours left right by the door like they always are. like he always wants them to be. he wants to come home to your shoes by the door and to you smiling at him brightly and greeting him, or beckoning him over to the couch because you’ve been waiting all day to watch your favorite show with him. (he’s forbidden you from watching any episode of selling sunsets without him, the last time you did he got cranky at you for a good 2 hours.)

katsuki sneaks over to your room, socked feet padding over to the door quietly cracking it open. he’d managed to convince you to move in with him a few months ago, claiming it’d lower costs and yapping about how you practically lived here anyway. it was barely anything to get used to, it felt natural, like this was everything his life was leading up to. but he wants to give you everything you deserve and this cramped little apartment is definitely not it.

he wants to give you a cosy little house, or a penthouse or even a fucking mansion if that was what you wanted, as long as he could be there with you he didn’t care. he’d do whatever he could to get you everything you dreamed of at the flick of a wrist. and that’s why, as annoying and lonely as it was to be without you for so long, he’d pushed through.

katsuki needs to save people, and he wants to. but everything he does, he does with you in a little corner of his mind.

you’re fast asleep like he’d expected, katsuki huffs out a laugh, brushing at your cheek with his finger. his heart almost explodes when you try to lean into the faint touch and he can’t help it anymore. he sits down by your side and kisses your cheek. once, two times, three times and a little one on your nose. if he wasn’t feeling all mushy he’d be an asshole and bite you, but you look so cute he’ll put that off for now.

your nose scrunches up and your eyebrows furrow at the wet kiss onto your skin, you instinctively go to rub at your face with a whine, katsuki chuckles to himself when you open your eyes and the lack of distance between you both meaning your quite literally face to face with him.

“katsu..?” you mumble sleepily “ ‘m i dreamin’ ?”

katsuki chuckles, eyes soft “glad to know ya dream about me, but nah, this isn't a dream.”

you blink sleepily, and katsuki recognize those bright eyes he so loves gleaming the more you wake up “katsuki !” you squeal, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him straight against your collarbone, since he was practically nose to nose with you before he knocks against your chin but you both don’t care.

katsuki crawls into bed and wraps his arms around you tightly, snickering into your neck and you into his hair. you squeeze and squeeze him so hard he thinks you’ll suffocate him but he couldn’t care less, squeezing you like he’s trying to mold you to him.

you breathe him in and he flips you both over with you giggling uncontrollably. you topple over and land straight into his chest. you lift your head up with stars in your eyes like he’d hung up the moon for you and katsuki smirks back softly. because he would. he’d hang up the moon and the stars and more.

all for you.

“you’re back !” you chirp, kissing all over his face. katsuki feels his cheeks hurt, this is the hardest and longest he’d smiled in a month.

“how’d you figure that one out ?” you roll your eyes at his sarcastic remark, blowing lip bubbles against his cheeks as punishment. he playfully pushes your face away from him and you laugh.

“i thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow..” you quickly reach over to your nightstand to check your phone then throw it back down.

“it is tomorrow.” katsuki quips, already getting back to being a smart ass, you roll your eyes but you can’t wipe off the happy look on your face.

“you know what i mean, asshole” you jokingly narrow your eyes at his smug face and press a finger against his cheek “later tomorrow i mean. was gonna surprise you and you….out-surprised, me” you pout at your ruined plans.

he turns his face so he can sink his teeth into your pointer finger and you quietly squeal in disapproval, he smirks “was gonna, but couldn’t wait anymore. needed to see you.” he pulls you closer to run his nose against your pulse point “felt like i was gonna go fucking crazy if i stayed with those other bastards for a second longer.”

you giggle, placing your hands against his shoulders as he kisses up and down your shoulder and neck haphazardly “ don’t be mean.” you scold.

he lifts his head up to raise a brow at you, hands running up and down your sides “you mean to tell me you wanted me to stay away? didn’t miss me ?” he jokes, squeezing your hips harshly.

“of course i did. missed you so much i felt my heart would tear up sometimes..” you smiles sadly, running your fingers through his blond strands, he frowns "but i'm glad you're back now."

"yeah, and m'not leaving again for a damn long while." he squeezes you so hard he lifts you up in his lap a little bit and a surprised noise leak out of you. he lifts his head up from your chest to smirk at you in challenge "you're gonna have to get used to me and my big mouth all over again."

your heart squeezes, you feel like it'll bursts from happiness and katsuki wonders if he' supposed to feel this happy, if it's okay to be this content with one person. but only for a moment, because he's greedy, so so greedy for you. and he doesn't care if it's wrong because he gets to make you happy, to make you smile and laugh, to have you.

and katsuki does everything for you, so he gives himself to you without a second thought.

you hum, placing your hands against his soft cheeks to press your lips to his "got a month worth of your big mouth i need to catch up on." you whisper before finally closing the distance. you both immediately sigh in relief at the contact, being able to feel each other like this again. you smile into the kiss and katsuki thinks he's never felt more at peace.

after a month, exactly 31 days, katsuki's finally back.

bonus :

"hey." katsuki ask, you snuggle into his side and hum.

"did you watch any episodes of selling sunsets without me ?"

you stiffen.

"n-noooo..." the sheets shuffle and crinkle when katsuki looks down at you. you shrink into yourself.

"maybe one or two.." you squeak out meekly. immediately he's flipping you over and pouncing on you.

"fuckin' traitor." he growls.

"i'm sorry i couldn't help myself !" you wheeze when he starts tickling your sides, kicking at the sheets "it's been a month !" you screech trying to catch your breath.

"yeah i know that !" he exclaims, ignoring the way you're thrashing around as he mercilessly tickles you.

"i'm soooorryy !!"

[chronicallycouchbound]

I feel like people often don’t talk about the experiences of disabled people who have caretakers because so much of the conversation is about us—not including us.

I receive in home care for 30 hours a week (+ 4 hours/week for respite). This is paid for by Medicaid (state insurance). Outside of paid hours, my primary caretakers care for me unpaid and assist me most of the time. I’m very rarely left alone due to my high support needs. Often, when I am left alone, I am completely bedridden or at minimum housebound. I have frequent emergency life threatening health problems, falls, and serious injuries even with support in place, and these things significantly increase when I’m on my own.

I’m extremely lucky that my paid caretakers are my partner, my sister (the only family member I have regular contact with, I’m estranged from the rest of my immediate family and most of my extended family) and my best friend.

I used to have agency staffing which was horrible for me and borderline traumatic. At several points, before doing the self directed care option (which allows me to choose my own staff, hire and train them myself and dictate hours for them), I opted to not have any staffing. I was regularly in the emergency room. I can’t drive, so I was having to walk and if I was lucky enough to be able to take the bus on occasion or get a ride from a Facebook acquaintance, they were few and far in between. I don’t have family support, and even my sister who is supportive wasn’t living in the state at the time and doesn’t have a car most of the time.

And before I could even choose which staffing option, even though medically it had been deemed essential for me to have in home care, even though my insurance covered it, I had to wait several years (I was 18 when I was approved) until I was 21 to qualify to start. The reason why: I was legally an “adult disabled child” because of my high support needs (which is funny because I STILL don’t have SSI at age 24) and thus legally unable to consent to my own care plan. I needed a blood relative to consent, and that same blood relative (who had to have proof of such!) couldn’t care for me. At the time, my sister was the only person who could’ve been my caregiver and also she is the only verifiable blood relative I have contact with for safety reasons, and my only relative on this side of the USA.

The first business day after my 21st birthday I immediately got things set up to get in home care.

This is out of date, I get assistance with more than just these highlighted ADL (activities of daily living) tasks now.

In short: my day-to-day life is entirely dependent on others.

And there’s power imbalances that exist between me and my caregivers, even with my current caregivers being amazing and anti-ableist. They will always exist. We talk about the power dynamics of me being dependent on them for my survival, and how heavy that weight can be for each of us.

Having caregivers often means that accessibility is extra difficult— I’ve been told straight up multiple times that I can’t have assistance from my caregivers to help me change in a changing room when we’re out shopping. That they can’t go into the bathroom with me, that they can’t help me get un/dressed during appointments, that they can’t come into spaces with me.

I’ve been denied access to psychiatric care because I can’t do my daily living tasks (ADLs- the highlighted items) independently. And when I’m in a hospital or emergency room, I can’t have my in home workers be paid to care for me, there’s an expectation that the nursing staff at the hospital will do it. Even though my caregivers were specifically trained to learn my body and needs for weeks and have been working with me for years. I have severe cPTSD and showering in front of a stranger is something I cannot do. I would rather fall or faint or get injured or just not shower than deal with that. But I’m expected to just let anyone have access to my body just because I’m physically disabled and need support.

When I faint/fall/get injured/have life threatening health issues arise while I’m not clothed, or when I’m otherwise vulnerable, I’m supposed to let strangers just touch me however they want to. I have to show them my chest (for my cardiac care) and let them poke and examine me. I can’t object without losing access to vital care.

I have agency. I have rights. I have autonomy. I deserve to be able to exercise these things.

[writella]

Go to Sleep

Synopsis: Daryl and the reader explore a new way of trying to help you get to sleep.

Details: Smut, 18+, soft-dom!Daryl, afab!reader, tiny bit of mean Daryl but not really, tiny bit of somnophilia but in the end it isn’t really either, Daryl reveals a little of his praise kink, thigh riding, oral (reader receiving), brief descriptions of anxiety, but ends sweetly. wc: 2.8k.

You hate the feeling of having your eyes closed but being so, desperately awake. It feels like a frustrating loop of constantly thinking about the thing you should be doing, the peace you should be feeling, but you simply, just, can’t.

It’s not like when you’re sitting out in the woods, the sun so nice and bright as you rest upon a tree, or when you’re on a ride with Daryl and you close your eyes, resting on his shoulder as the wind hits your face. It doesn’t feel warm and safe; it feels like a dark, void space, and you’re running endlessly to nowhere.

This is how it was, you had been having terrible sleep for weeks now. You felt it in your throat and in your chest whenever— and it was every time— that you woke up with your heart pounding in the middle of the night. You felt your heart beating without even touching your body, and it made you want to throw up.

This is why Daryl had slept with you for the past two weeks, hoping to ease your thoughts.

What you and Daryl had remained undefined at this point. He was loyal and cared for you deeply, but he was also independent and enjoyed doing things at his own pace— initiating wasn’t his strong suit.

This is also why, just the other night nearing twelve am, you had to beg Daryl to take you around the Alexandria houses for a fourth time on his bike before allowing him to leave you on your doorstep. This is where you admitted what was going on, “Please,” you asked sadly, “When I’m alone… I just- I just start thinking too much. I can’t sleep.”

So of course, he took you around again. He didn’t even say anything, just grabbed one of your hands tighter around him, starting to ride slowly. Firstly because he wasn’t trying to wake anyone up, and secondly because he was trying to make it last longer for you. He went around five more times.

Every time you saw your home approaching again your eyes dropped knowing what was coming until he just kept going. But after the fifth time, just when you hoped maybe this was a dream where you could just go around in peaceful circles all night with Daryl, he stopped. He had to sleep too.

He stood between his bike then, waiting for you to get your door, but you moved at a deafeningly slow pace. You hated the darkness that was beginning to weigh behind your eyes. You hated the night now and you hated it even more when you weren’t with him. So, as you hit the top step, you turned back around, running up to him.

Your eyes were meek when you paused before making your final request, “Daryl… please, will you stay with me?”

And that did it: as if you already hadn’t made him go around the neighborhood almost 10 times, those were the words that hit him at the bottom of his heart the most. Neither of you were ever as forward as you were being that night and he couldn’t say no. You told him that you needed him.

The first night was a success, in fact. You happened to fall asleep quite quickly as his strong arms held you down, grounding you in safety. Though as the days trailed on, it seemed that wasn’t exactly enough anymore. Your intrusive thoughts always found a way of sneaking in through Daryl’s stronghold.

Tonight was a night like that. Your eyes were closed, but your mind was very much awake.

You had initially gone to sleep on your side— you both were. Daryl’s face was almost touching yours.

He wasn’t much of a talker all the time, but the typical method that had been working other than laying on his chest was asking him about his day, what things he might have gathered from any trips outside, or seeing if, and it was only on rare occasions, he would tell you a story from his past.

There weren’t many fond memories, but he would always find something: maybe about one of his first hunting trips, or some hijinks he and his brother got into before he ditched when Daryl was a kid… but he didn’t like casually talking about his brother. He’d keep those short for now. You waited patiently for them to get longer. Either way, the stories always helped you get to that initial sleep, so he’d make sure to find one to tell if it made you feel better.

But now you were still awake and Daryl was seemingly asleep. You knew he could probably tell you were turning and shifting at some points, but you didn’t want to truly wake him up yet. It felt greedy after he was being so giving. And it was so rare to see him so peaceful. His eyes were usually elusive and stern. You might have started to know him more than others, but still, it wasn’t all the time that you could tell what was in his head. He was always guarded, especially between the mouth and eyes, but when he was asleep, his face relaxed.

Though the insomnia was killing you, it was nice to see him like this— he was just so handsome. His hair, his lips, his arms— you were obsessed with every shirt he ruined by cutting the sleeve— his abdomen, you almost grazed his lower stomach with your finger tips, thinking about if and how much you would love his-

Then a thought came up.

Probably worse than waking him up even though that would do it regardless, but you moved mindlessly before really thinking about it.

Your legs slid forward, slotting Daryl’s top leg that perched forward, knee almost touching your leg, in the middle of your own two.

Your legs move up a bit and you brush yourself against his thigh once, the movement is so small, then twice, the slight friction feels good, your eyes finally close again, but then you stop. What were you doing? Your head turns face first into the bed and stays there for a moment, quietly letting out your frustration into the sheet.

“You gonna move or what?” It comes out as a grumble and it makes you jut.

You’ve been caught.

“You ain’t slick,” his eyes are still closed, “but go on.” He takes his top leg out from between you and places it better, from the awkwardness ‘trying’ to not wake him up angle you had it at before.

You hold his top shoulder and he holds you right by the waist and you begin to rock. Daryl starts to flex his quad up into you as you grind down onto him. Your wetness finally seeping up so that your lips open a little as they push and rock against him. You can now feel your clit getting more attention from the hard pressure his thigh causes against you.

Daryl opens his eyes for a moment, yours are closed. Face twisted and eyes scrunched as you let out short breaths. You were invested in getting yourself off, you grinded down faster, his hands on your hips now were loose allowing you to go as hard as you pleased, for a minute, then another, and then another until he stopped you.

He pushed his hands and fingertips hard into your hips, deciding he wanted to control the pace. He pushed you into him slow and deep and despite it feeling good, you wanted to go fast, to stop thinking. It made you whine, complainingly as you came down from the high you felt you could have reached. “But Daryl-”

“Shut up.” It sounded like a quiet bark.

You were getting him riled up, yes, but it was also a full moon tonight and Daryl would rather be sleeping on the hard rock ground under the stars than in a bed, only being able to stare at the sky from a window. Even though he knew you had been feeling anxious about something for a while, and he wanted to make you feel okay, he can’t lie, your sleep not improving was starting to get on his nerves a bit. And especially so tonight when your restlessness kept him up the whole time, despite you not knowing.

He allowed you to keep riding him at his pace for a moment until he got a new idea: he pushed your leg off and you gave an exasperated sighed, frustrated at the feeling of nothingness. “Shh,” was all he whispered, it came out sharp.

“Daryl, let’s just-”

“Stop.” He took you by the face when he said it, squeezing your jaw roughly. “Don’t talk.”

He lays you on your back and takes off your pants you were sleeping with, they’re ruined, and you weren’t wearing any underwear after your shower. The blanket is pushed to his side of the bed now as he goes downward, spreading your legs, not too wide but just enough for him to get in between. Holding your thighs, his thumbs kneading the skin on the inner side. He licks the outside of your hole, almost slurping in your wetness as he does it just so he could move it up your pussy toward your clit and sucks in again. He lays his tongue flat and presses back down again, repeating the motion, making you even more wet, everywhere.

Your upper back moved forward, your elbows and forearms propped up so you could watch. This felt better than before, even with his slower movements, he felt so good there so instantly that you couldn’t help yourself but staying up to look, but after he sees you he stops.

Silently, Daryl pushes your shoulders back into the bed, you can’t tell if he was only accidentally being rough. He pushes your pillow up only slightly against the headboard, just enough so your head wasn’t completely propped up, but just so if you wanted to move your head to the side you could still look if you wanted to when you realized you could. “Stay,” then begrudgedy he adds, “and close your eyes.”

Daryl went down again, making his pace slower than before: His lips and tongue sucked in your clit again, it coming into his mouth as much as the little thing could and he repeats it again until he had peppered you there with slobbery kisses and then he moved to one side of your labia, his lips slotting themselves above and under that one side as his tongue goes out and in, kissing you deeply. The man was literally making out with your pussy.

Just as he would with your mouth, his head turned and leaned into it, pushing his tongue in and pressing against you, his lips in between one of your own down there as he did so. He went in the middle of you again, his nose rubbing against your clit a few times as his tongue went lower, sucking in more of your wetness again. His nose brushing against you made you shudder.

Your eyes were still closed, but they scrunched even harder now and your head started shaking side to side. You have never felt him down there being so intentional, deliberate, and intense. Something so surprisingly romantic, but still so fucking dirty and sexy. He has pushed your wetness everywhere. You felt like a dripping mess and more than half of his face was all coated in it and it just felt so good.

He moved to the other side of your pussy now, giving it the same attention as he did the first. Making out with you down there as if he could do it forever. So slow, but it felt so warm and deep.

You felt him suck you in and swallow some of your wetness. He hummed into you as he did it, a raspy “mmmm” melted into you and it made you moan, the sound coming from you instantaneously because of the vibration you felt down there from his voice. You covered your mouth, your house was quiet and you didn’t want to wake anyone up but the more he continued, the harder it was becoming.

Now, his lip suctioned your pussy lip in between his and he slid down, tongue trailing the inner side until he was able to slot his tongue inside your hole, staying there and still kissing you. Moving his tongue in and out now, still slowly, feeling every bit as he moved.

Your quiet pants were continuous, but you were trying hard to hold in your noises. Not wanting to wake up anybody else you lived with, but also not knowing if Daryl would stop again if you spoke too much.

To your misfortune, he stopped anyway. Your eyes open and push your head to the side of your pillow so you can look down at him. Your mouth was open, but you made sure not to complain.

His chin almost rested on your mound, he was already looking up. “Does it feel good?” You couldn’t read his eyes, but his voice was surprisingly tender and questioning.

You assured him immediately, “yes,” you whispered giggling. You brush his hair with your fingers, undoing some tangles. You got lost in his eyes for a moment before he went down again.

“Tell me,” he says, it almost sounds muffled as he sucks you in until he takes a breath to say more clearly, “I wanna hear you now.”

“Don’t wanna get to loud,” you’re breathless.

He licks you off his lips, looking you in the eye, “so don’t.”

Daryl starts going faster now, breathing you in and humming, knowing you can feel the vibrations, jerk. “Mmm, Daryl, please.” You start to pant again, still too scared you might let yourself go too far.

His fingers spread wide, splaying over to your lower stomach, pushing down until he reaches your tit and circling your nipples. His other hand joins him, it makes you inhale sharply. With that and the way he circled your hole, trying to get his tongue to go in and press as much as he could, it caused you to jerk up, taking one of his hands in your own, squeezing it. Your other hand went to his hair. His fingers weren’t even inside of you, but his hands felt so big no matter where he touched you and his tongue felt incredible, you didn’t know how he did it and it made you start to loose it, “ah- Daryl-”

“You like that?” He pushed you hand off his head and he took his free hand to finger your clit and he went back to sucking and making out with you toward your center. It all makes you nod your head, shaking quickly.

“Say it.”

“I like it,” it came out as a whispered shriek. “I like it, I like it,” you were breathless, “Daryl you feel so good.” You were holding on as hard as you could, but it wasn’t working. Your thighs came to close in on his face but he pushed his hands into your inner legs opening them even further and he kept going down, his nose pressing into you.

His mouth moved up again making out with your clit and lips on top and two of his fingers went into your hole.

You held onto his other hand again and squeezed and he thrusted his fingers into you hard and fast, he wanted to make you reach the end now.

“Oh- Daryl- oh my god,” you were coming out pathetically now as his fingers started to curl into you, and he added another.

Suddenly, you felt it. Right at the bottom of your stomach, the spark, the indescribable electricity as he kept humming into you on top and jamming into you at the bottom. All you heard was the squelch of you and his fingers and tongue lapping and lapping until you let out as much of a suppressed moan as you could release as you came.

Your eyes finally relaxed as you settled down and Daryl sat up on the bed, watching your breathing slow.

He stayed there for a moment, looking at how the night’s light shined on you from the window.

You had pulled the blanket over your legs again but he pulled it off. You didn’t know exactly what he was doing but your eyes were still closed. You were tired and sexed out now, you couldn’t get yourself to open them or ask questions, and it wasn’t a particularly cold night anyway and you still had his shirt on. You let it be, your mind finally drifting until you heard quiet footsteps travel down stairs, until they quickly ascended again.

Daryl took you by the upper back and under your knees, picking you up. With no words he took you to the front porch, gently laid you on the blanket, the side closest to the door. He laid himself on the opposite, closest to the sky.

You’re curled into his chest, you almost looked like a kitten, arm over him, fist curling into your chin contentedly, eyes closed and so peaceful, but you still kept nestling.

“Go to sleep,” he insisted softly. His hand went into your hair, lulling you further into your trance. This time it worked. He did everything right and now the trick was paying off, you couldn’t help but fall closer and closer into your slumber.

Daryl turned to his left to look at the moon, its gentle gleam finally coaxing him into his own sleep as well.

[reallyromealone]

Title: bakugos brother

Chapter:...4?

Fandom: bnha

Characters: Bakugo, kirishima, bakusquad and deku squad and a few teachers

Fic type: series

Pairings: kirishima x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, fluff, angst, teen romance

Notes:I lost the ask, so requester I hope you enjoy

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"Apparently he's like super smart"

"He plays chess, I heard he never lost"

"He seems pretty ordinary, I don't get why he's Nedzus personal student"

(Name) Ignored the comments as he left Nedzu's office, his uniform perfectly ironed and his school work organized to perfection as he went to his gen-ed classes, spending the first portion of his day with Nedzu then the rest with his peers as the faculty deemed it important for him to make friends and talk to those his age.

"Apparently he's brothers with Bakugo"

"He probably has serious anger issues"

(Name) Walked into the gen-ed class and took a seat in his chair, staring off as he began playing chess in his head as he waited for things to start "you're bakugos brother, right?" A voice asked beside him and (name) looked to see a guy "yes, I am" (name) said simply as the others glared slightly "your brother is an obnoxious asshole!" One student said "yeah! You two are so fucking cold to others, what? You think you're better than us?!"

"You know, it's impressive " (name) said simply as a student looked confused "what is?"

"That you can make baseless accusations on someone whom you haven't even had a conversation with" (name) said simply as the others looked shocked "you make claims about me that hold zero merit and frankly I think that's appalling" "how dare--"

"I think that's enough class" present mic walked in clearly frustrated with his students "is this any way to treat a new classmate?"

"But--"

"But what? I heard everything and frankly I'm ashamed of you all" the blond teacher said sternly "(name) was put in your class hoping you all would give him a warm welcome and you berated him for actions of another"

The students looked ashamed and (name) was awkward, fidgeting with his mechanical pencil as the others mumbled out apologies and the blond sighed "now pull out your textbooks to page 138"

When classes ended, (name) had a free study period and decided to go to the courtyard to play some chess by himself and get away from it all, he felt just as lonely as he did at his old school but he should have expected to be in his brothers shadow here as well.

"Hey... Uh were sorry about what happened" a few students came up, a purple haired teen and two others "it was pretty shitty of us to put that on you, that wasn't cool" the teens mumbled and (name) shrugged "I'm used to it"

"You shouldn't have to be though and it's uncool"

"Shinso Hitoshi" the purple haired teen offered and (name) looked at them passively "Bakugo (name)" his voice always so calm and collected as they nodded "so you play chess?" One student asked and (name) nodded "outside of school, I'm a professional chess player"

"Whoa! That's so cool! Is that why you're Nedzu's student?"

"Actually it's due to my quirk, I have an intelligence quirk" (name) explained and the three sat with him "whoa those are super rare!" The other said and Shinso looked curious about it "why didn't you apply earlier?" Shinso asked before realizing that was probably insensitive and (name) shrugged "didn't think I would be able, two students already got into here... A third seemed impossible" it was a lie but they seemed to accept it.

"So what's it like being Nedzu's student?!"

After classes, Kirishima was excited to see his boyfriend as the two hadn't seen each other in a few days due to conflicting schedules but now they could! Even if half the class wanted to join as well.

"I brought a friend" (name) said simply as shinso looked awkward, kirishima feeling pride at his boyfriend making friends independent of the redhead "oh! You're the one going through the transfer!" Momo said excitedly "yeah the one replacing mineta!" Ochaco cheared "and right before the sports festival! Oh we can train together!"

Hitoshi was startled a bit as he noticed Midoriya who was a calming presence "come on! Aizawa is only letting us out till 845! We only have like five hours!" Mina yelled as Bakugo grunted at her dragging him.

Hitoshi was dragged into conversation with tenya and kaminari about god knows what as Kirishima and a few others chatted away, leaving the Bakugo siblings to walk beside each other awkwardly "how's heroics" (name) said in more of a statement, uncomfortable as he tried to make small talk with his brother "fine" Bakugo grunted as Kirishima went with tsu and Ochaco "babe I'll be right back! Don't follow I want it to be a surprise!"

And then the siblings were left alone as the group seperated to grab the things they needed or wanted and to meet up after for food.

"You two seem happy" Bakugo was rarely soft, the concept of him being calm and tentative was something that would be laughable to anyone who knew him "he makes me happy, I hope I make him feel the same" (name) said simply and Bakugo make a soft hum "I'm glad you're at U.A"

"Didn't you not want me here?" (Name) Looked at Katsuki as they stopped walking"fucking--- I know I was shitty, dad's making me go to therapy with hound dog" this was new, something he didn't expect at all.

"Dad's fed up with the hag, he's forcing basically everyone to therapy so expect a call"

The two sat on a bench, small talk between them as they waited for their friends to come back.

It was strange for Katsuki to say he was finally meeting his brother, on equal grounds and no hostility but Katsuki needed this.

He needed his brother.

"BABE LOOK WHAT I FOUND!" Kirishima barreled in with bracelets "look, it has chess pieces! And you can customize it so I added a barbell!" Kirishima said excitedly as he handed (name) one and the calmer Bakugo took it curiously "this is cheesy" he said simply but the small smile as he put on it made kirishima fly to cloud nine.

Bakugo was surprised that his brother had such an interest like origami, seeming genuinely happy with the variety pack of designs "oo make me a brid!" Kirishima teased and (name) took that seriously and they could see the gears turn in his head.

(Name) Was happy when he returned to his form, putting the bracelet in a safe area with his other important items and sat down, thinking About the conversation he had... Bakugo apologized...

He had to talk to kirishima tomorrow about this.

"Hey shitty hair,.can I talk?"

[little-periwinkle]

Hi my name is Aspen, I am an an independent artist living in the DMV area.

I work full time and am trying to pay my bills and put money aside for my own place.

I made a Dolphin digital sticker you can buy off my payhip and use wherever you want as long as you’re not re-selling, and when you buy one or however many to share, you’re supporting me. And I appreciate it. Any help is helpful.

I would like to sell AS MANY stickers as I can. Where I live, a house can go anywhere from $100-500,000 and if I do end up reaching $100,000, that would be enough for a mobile home which I would also accept and happily live in. I don’t need much, just a 2 br. I don’t want anything fancy, but min is $100k (If you don’t believe me that’s your biz but I would never lie and take advantage of ppl’s hard earned money and also generosity so please do know you are indeed supporting someone who is waiting for housing assistance from my county and is working a full time job to try to get the fuck outta where I live now (not that I don’t love my parents and siblings bc I absolutely do until the day I die God forbid soon may we live a long healthy life Amen) and into a place I can comfortably call my own home.

I also draw and have other stickers planned like a Sonic popsicle I hand drew that I’m REALLY proud of and can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions on <3

Please help a queer Latino out! <3 I will serenade you all with Preciosa by Marc Anthony if I make my $100,000 goal on stream I SWEAR.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Back in early 2020, the news of the strange illness causing terrible pneumonias in China saddened me, but I believed I was safe in Canada. Within weeks, there was a reckoning: thousands were dying on my doorstep, too.

Directors of an independent living residence at the start of the pandemic asked me to become the residence’s COVID-19 advisor. They had no qualified medical staff, despite supporting elderly residents. Back in those early days, anyone with a medical qualification was commandeered to help in any way they could.

Confronted with the task of providing guidance to the nonmedical staff taking care of these residents, I decided to learn everything I could about the pandemic. At that time, about 1,000 papers were being published every month detailing research into every aspect of the coronavirus. Of course, I couldn’t read all of them, but I read as many as I could and built a breadth and depth of evidenced-based knowledge about SARS-CoV-2 and COVID-19. I wrote up the protocols and during my tenure as COVID-19 Advisor for this residence, we kept COVID out.

As a family physician seeing COVID-19 in my practice, I came to recognize that so many of my colleagues and patients had no idea how to keep themselves safe from the coronavirus, nor were they aware of its long-term risks. I saw the need to take action and effect change, which ultimately led me to becoming an advocate for Long COVID awareness.

I started the medical education company Kojala Medical, aiming to provide evidenced-based information about medical issues in a form patients could understand and reliably trust. I wanted a credible, trustworthy site to which I could refer my patients, colleagues, friends and family. We started with a focus on COVID-19 and have now expanded to Long COVID, with the site longcovidtheanswers.com.

I first learned about Long COVID in 2020 through publicity raised by the Body Politic COVID-19 support group, then became more alarmed as I read scientific articles about the disease.

Aside from the official death toll of over 7 million from COVID-19, Long COVID has emerged from the pandemic as the single biggest disaster to afflict humanity, yet very few people who are not sick with Long COVID are aware of it, want to know about it, believe in it, or even acknowledge that it’s happening. Sadly, many in the medical profession fall within that group of non and disbelievers.

This is bizarre, especially because of the impact of the disease. One recent review estimates more than 400 million global cases of Long COVID. I am furious that not enough is being done to alleviate this suffering. The injustice of yet another neglected and marginalized chronic illness that disproportionately affects women.

So, rather than sitting around waiting for ‘someone’ or ‘body’ to do something, I decided to act.

For me, medicine is fundamentally about aiding people to get as well as possible from any sickness they have — and even more importantly, preventing people from getting sick in the first place. In both of these regards, we are failing people with Long COVID dismally.

Long COVID is not the flu, it is a multisystem debilitating infection associated chronic condition. Developing Long COVID can be disabling and life-changing. Recovery remains low — and some manifestations like heart disease, dysautonomia, and myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME) may last a lifetime.

This is a terrifying situation to be in when, as a global community, we have chosen to act as though the pandemic is over and repeatedly expose ourselves to SARS-CoV-2, a grade 3 biohazard, with little to no protection.

As I read more and more research papers about Long COVID and looked at the inaction of global governments and my own profession, I feared that we were sleepwalking into a global mass disabling event unnecessarily, since we have many technologies available to prevent this.

Infection-associated chronic conditions do not have an established medical speciality, and are rarely taught in medical school. With the medical profession disengaged, people with Long COVID have been left to find answers for themselves.

My work aims to build on support groups, which have helped establish caring communities for people with Long COVID, but have also paved the way for us as scientists and medics to change the way we conduct research in a more patient-focused way. Nevertheless, they don’t entirely fulfill the need for evidence-based information about the disease in a readable format for nonmedical individuals.

I saw a huge need for a comprehensive website that would be of use to all people with Long COVID, their caregivers, the scientists researching the disease, and the multidisciplinary team of healthcare professionals that would be needed to rehabilitate them. Our organization believes that Long COVID The Answers meets those requirements.

There is also a pressing need to train medical professionals so that they will acknowledge Long COVID and feel confident about diagnosing and managing it. Inspired by an interview with Dr. Ric Arsenaeau, an expert in managing complex chronic diseases, my team and I created a podcast series: so that medical providers can receive continuing professional development/educational credits from watching this series.

The podcast series features a range of experts, including people with Long COVID, doctors, scientists, educators, and medical clinicians. Some of these experts also serve on our advisory board, overlooking and participating in the project.

Our site aims to raise awareness about the dangers of continuously exposing ourselves to a perilous virus with no thought of what it will cost us and our children.

This will mobilize the people of the world to demand that their leaders properly provide safe spaces for us all to prevent us from ever getting infected in the first place.

We need to mandate our governments to access all the mitigating technologies that we have in our roster, not only vaccination. The best way of managing Long COVID is to prevent people getting infected with SARS-CoV-2 in the first place!

We need national and international indoor clean air acts – to protect us from emerging pathogens.

For people with Long COVID, awareness will bring an educated and mobilized medical profession, governmental resources, financial and sociological support, and money for research — to facilitate treatments and, hopefully, a cure.

These are the main reasons why I jump out of bed in the morning with gusto, focus, and determination, and why I’ve poured all my money and my time into educating people about Long COVID.

Dr. Funmi Okunola is a British Family Physician who lives and works in Vancouver, Canada. She is the President and CEO of Kojala Medical, a digital medical education company behind COVID-19 The Answers and Long COVID The Answers.

[divineidolatry]

CONSTANTLY IN THE DARKNESS — CHAPTER 1

— written by june.

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader*

rating: explicit (18+) — mind the tags, see masterlist for disclaimers

summary: against your wishes, you call the curtain on your relationship with coriolanus snow and walk out of his life for good. against your wishes, he waltzes back in like nothing's changed.

tags: exes to lovers, it's complicated, slow burn but they're constantly fucking, manipulation, toxic relationship, power play, unprotected sex, bdsm, dom!coriolanus, sub!reader, edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, spit kink, bondage, pearl play, choking, shoe riding, degradation, dirty talk, brat taming, penetrative sex (piv), aftercare

taglist: comment on the masterlist to be added to the taglist.

wordcount: 4,352

just before our love got lost you said "i am as constant as a northern star" and i said "constantly in the darkness, where's that at? if you want me i'll be in the bar."

“Coriolanus…” You drop the silver cutlery on the fine porcelain, the sound sharp enough that he winces. Good. This should hurt him as much as it hurts you. “What are we even doing anymore?”

His face holds that cold expression you can’t read, beautiful and impossible, a question you saw the first day you met him and you knew you wanted to crack him open.

You always knew he had ambition, and you possessed plenty to match. Power called to you from an early age, you’d just gotten smarter about you grabbed it. Still, he made you better. He made you sharper. And in turn, you could make him look soft enough to please.

But the parts of you that slotted together like perfect gears before had grown jagged and mismatched now. His ambitions mean more than you. They come before you. A part of you thinks it would be okay if he still made room for you at the end of the night, but it’s all perfunctory and dutiful.

“We need to talk. Actually talk.”

It’s not for a lack of trying to understand him, but there’s walls in Coryo that shift position, closing him off when you’re not careful enough. Talking with him turns into talking to him. He never did share much, even when you made it clear that you supported his ambitions, never troubling him with your own. You’re big girl, after all, independent and capable, you can hold your own value and underscore his. You know how to charm the worst of them and flatter the best of them, you are an asset beyond compare and yet he’s losing interest. Galling.

“I’ve been loyal, beyond a shadow of a doubt. I’ve kept clean in public so you can defile me in private. I play your game so well, and yet…” You flick your finger against the crystal wine glass, lipstick stains rimming the edge. You dressed to the nines tonight, giving him a last chance to look at you, at everything you offered him as a partner in every sense of the word. “You make me feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

His silence hangs heavy and painful in the air between you two. There’s something so pristine and perfect about the room that itches in your gut, that sometimes makes you want to take the knife and stab him through the back of his hand just to see if he’d even flinch.

“Am I not good enough for you anymore?”

Oh, how icy his gaze is. It cuts right through you, past all your defenses.

These dinners, once bubbling with conversation and excited plans about the next chance you’d have to shift the board, have turned to quiet and perfunctory affairs now. He meets your eyes less and less on the university campus. You spend hours waiting for him in the quiet hallways on the top floor no one goes to, doing your seminar readings in the same hidden alcove where he once liked to make you moan so high a rumor had spread of a ghost haunting.

It doesn’t matter to you that he is busy, it mattered that he stopped including you, that he didn’t even try. And you can’t get through to him. It’s getting sad — worse, stale. On top of that, people are talking. Gossip loud enough that you could hear it from the back rows in lecture halls, of discord between Panem’s golden future and his leading lady. Bad metrics for both of you… and it fucking stings too.

His heart isn’t in your mouth anymore, and you are beginning to starve. And he’d let you.

You fold up the napkin, dropping it on top of the half-finished meal, knowing the waste will irk him. Whatever hook you still have in him you will pull on. You must. You refuse to go down without damages.

“This is what you want, isn’t it? It’s easier this way, me deciding to leave you, that way you won’t have to clean up the mess. That’s why you’ve been so cold, right?”

He doesn’t speak. Pushing the chair out, you get up and walk the length of the table, your heels clicking loud against the marble. You move close to him, press your body against his and feel the heat of his breath on your skin… but his expression does not shift, and you shake your head with a pained noise catching in your throat.

“I don’t think you are this cold,” you whisper, slipping your hand in under his shirt, pressing your fingers against his chest. His heart beats hard and strong. “I hope you realize when I’m gone…” You trail off, struggling with the words.

Silence. Again. He’s leaning back in the chair, watching you try to reconcile this… and he is letting you flounder. Has he allowed you to ask for his time with the intention to give you nothing? The cruelty in that hurts even worse.

“Goodbye, Coriolanus.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek, scraping your nails over his skin, hoping it stings as much as his icy silence does. You gather your bag and coat, and leave his penthouse quietly.

In the elevator, you wipe at an errant tear. The air around you feels crushing but you cannot give in under pressure. You won’t.

For a few days, you don’t cry. You had foreseen this outcome to the conversation after all, made your preparations to leave as little behind as possible, and fortified yourself to understand that no matter how perfect a match you seemingly were for each other, you still actively had to choose one another. Whatever had consumed him also kept him from letting you in as he used to, and it meant he was no longer choosing you.

The barb still lodged itself deep in your chest, leaking poison all the same.

You go through the motions, brushing your hair, washing your face, studying. It’s in one of the lectures, the professor slipping through the lackluster material, that it hits like a fist between the ribs, and you clutch at your side remembering how Coryo would have made this make sense to you. It hits all at once how he’s not there, won’t be, he’s not going to make even the dullest media history class shine bright anymore.

When the tears come, it is Clemensia who wipes them away, lets your head rest in her lap, and offers to fetch the rest of your things. She was his friend first; you’d been a year under them in the Academy. When she comes back she doesn’t say if he reacted, though you doubt he was even at home. She strokes your hair, assuring you she won’t pick a side. Through all her care of you in the weeks to come, she proves her words, not letting you flinch away in public.

“Just because he plays a good game,” she reminds you, “doesn’t mean you can’t make a better move.”

You slowly get back on your feet, keeping her words in mind. She helps with applying your makeup on days when your hands are too shaky, keeping your perfectly crafted mask in place. She glues herself to your side as you attend classes, keeping it cordial with Coriolanus while your gaze slips past him. You forgot how good it felt to be someone’s priority.

“Why are you being so nice about this?” you ask one night, exasperated as she’s getting you ready for a party, squirming in your seat. You don’t feel ready for re-emerging into society, but what choice do you have? Crawl into a hole and vanish? You’d never give him the pleasure.

She rolls her eyes and gets up off the floor to fetch a dusty bottle of posca from the shelves.

“It’s not that different,” she says, handing a glass over to you. “I was in his corner too, and it bit me. Hard.” She grimaces, scratching at her wrist before rolling down the sleeve over her hands.

“Did you two…” You have wondered, after all, jealousy flickering at times like a dangerous question mark.

“Not like that! I just needed him to show up for me, to do this one thing, and he was busy chasing his own greatness.”

It's a relief to hear, mostly because you have an easier time believing her than him. “But you got over it.”

“I can’t fault him. If you’re here, it means something, and it’s not always flattering.” She wrinkles her nose at the posca even as she drinks it down. “When you want something so bad because you need to make sense of the world, to bring some sense of order to the chaos of life… I know you get it. He’s always been this way, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Her words are just a whisper as she pins curls in place on your head, her hand lingering to trace your chin as she examines your face.

Clemensia had taken a liking to doing these little things for you, drawing from a deep well of knowledge she’d amassed. It had become an outlet for her, creativity to couple with her own ambition. She liked to practice different looks on you before paring them down to a more fitting style suitable to current trends, but each flourish of her brush warmed your skin.

You knew that duality well — of wanting to create and struggling to find the time and place. Ever since you were small, your parents had clung to the idea that singing lessons and dance classes were of utmost importance, even keeping them going during the war. They wanted you to excel, rise in standing, and it had honed you.  

Unbidden, one of his old comments floats up in your mind, making your breath stutter. ‘You have the prettiest voice of all the girls in Panem, do you know that?’ And while you scoffed then, your ego bloomed under his praise. ‘Tell me more about how much you love my voice, Coryo…’

“Hey… come back to me, you better not ruin the hard work I’ve just done, I don’t do hard work for just anyone, you know?” Clemmie teases, but you can see a stern look in her eyes. You don’t have a lot of time, and she isn’t keen to waste it. “We have somewhere to be soon, okay?��

You nod. She’s right. The Capitol’s numerous galas and grand events throughout the year had kept going despite your broken heart, and tonight is the Rose Ball, an extravagant gala held in the grand conservatory with an orchestra playing and the guest list consisting of only the names of the highest esteem in the Capitol. And your name was still on it. Tonight, you intend to make sure it isn’t the last invite sent your way, no matter what.

Clemensia finishes with a lipstick red as wine, smiling as she puts her hands on your shoulders and turns you to the mirror.

“Look at you,” she says, tilting your chin up so the light catches the pearlescent shimmer dusted on your skin. “Everyone will be falling for you. And he will have no choice but to watch what he lost.”

You shiver in excitement.

You share the ride with some people Clemensia knows, and while they gossip away, you sit alone with your thoughts, the mask wavering for a moment. This is the first formal gathering you’re attending since the split… Several months of picking up the pieces to pretend like everything’s fine, to recoup as much of your image as possible, while still doing him the courtesy to not hurt his. You have been so good, and still people look at you as if you made a mistake and not him.

Tonight would be harder to find a bathroom to tuck away into, an empty study room to make your safe haven. No cover to hide behind, so you needed to don the appropriate armor, to appear unaffected. To tell a tale to outdo his. After all, Clemensia’s right, everyone can be made to want you. You will move on, and you will make him regret it while you do. You will remind him that your heart isn’t a delicate plaything, but a fire furious enough to match his.

You play with the pearls around your neck, the matching gold and pearl earrings bouncing against your cheek as the car passes over cobblestoned streets. They are the very same Coriolanus gifted you on your first anniversary, and weighted with memories. You thought about throwing them away immediately after the break-up, but that would have said something about him winning, and you can’t stand that.

Clemensia, hawk-eyed as ever, notices your nervous fiddling and nudges your foot with hers right as the car pulls up to the entrance. “Shall we then?” Clemensia offers you her arm and you take it gratefully. You revel in the sync of your heels clicking as you ascend the hard steps to your most important battlefield yet.

Past the heavy gilded doors, the gala’s milling crowd slows down as you enter, eyes drawn to you. You hold your head high, gripping Clemensia’s arm tight. No one here will get the pleasure of seeing you flinch. They announce your names, and you smile, brilliant and beautiful. The corset underneath your rose-red dress keeps your back straight, reminiscent of old elegances that has the old garde softening for you.

You think you spot him on the far end of the room, but the shadows are long and the lights dimmed. His gaze feels a certain way though, and there’s a wicked warmth in your chest that only he has ever made you feel.

“I’m going to do reconnaissance,” Clemensia says as she gives your hand a squeeze. “Let me get the lay of the land.”

“Go, go.” You wave her off, confidently stepping into a circle that parts to let you in amongst them, laughing at the right time. If there is one dance you know better than any other, it is this: the social graces and manners expected of you in these cutthroat places, where the marble runs red with lies and blood. Your heels know where to step even when sleepwalking.

While your mask does not waver, you sure feel bare under all the scrutiny, hungry gazes roving over every bared slip of skin on your arms. After what feels like hours of compliments, cruelties and layered comments, you find a brief escape in an alcove on the second floor, rubbing at your sore ankles as you catch your breath, head spinning. Roses weigh in on all sides of you, enchanting and heady. If you had to say something nice, it’s that Coriolanus knows how to work with the best event planners the Capitol has to offer.

You rip off a handful of petals, crushing them until the fragrant oils spill forth, and press them down the front of your dress before you get up to continue mingling.

The night is long: a dance with the Featherpillow boy a year your junior who easily dances circles around most of the men here; a glass of champagne with the Fairweather twins as you chat about the latest fashion trends and they enviously compliment your pearls; Clemensia whisking you away to a polite and stiff conversation with the Ravenstills. The night goes on for some time in this manner, gliding between dances, advances, and gossip. No one can seem to keep you in one place.

And everywhere you go, you feel the constant, unrelenting pierce of eyes on you. Not just the masses… his.

You are showing him up. Everyone knows it. Coming to his event with seemingly no hard feelings, dressed like a classical painting, fielding every conversation with natural ease and charisma. Everyone wants to see you, talk to you, be seen with you. It’s a move that will have lesser men folding their hands.

Coryo isn’t.

There’s no shortage of attention in his corner, the constant requests for a word from important political seats and fellow society greats, and invitations to dance which he only takes when you do. The undertow between you is palpable. He is an inevitability, you can feel it when you draw close during dances, gazes brushing past each other.

He is throwing you off, little by little, his smile blistering bright and dangerous across the room, and he catches you looking. Just once. And once is all he needs.

You swipe a glass of posca from a passing waiter, knocking it back in one go. This wasn’t part of your plan.

It definitely isn’t a part of the plan that Coriolanus appears in front of you, taking the empty glass away from you with a cool smile.

“May I have the next dance?” he asks, voice perfectly warm and polite. Every single eye watches the two of you with rapt attention as he offers his hand out to you.

He knows you can’t turn him down now, and he is relishing in it. His eyes are lit up, a fire in them you have not seen in months. You put your hand in his, beaming up at him.

“It would be my pleasure,” you say, dragging out the last word until it drips like daggers from your lips.

The two of you assume the starting position, you with one hand in his, the other on his shoulder, and you can’t help but notice that it is all too comfortable a role to slip back into: the perfect pair, polished and primed for the show. A lone pianist begins to play, and you recognize the tune as one of your very favorites… one you played for Coriolanus more than once on the grand piano in his penthouse.

Maintaining a polite expression, you shoot him a look. “Did you request this piece?”

“It’s your favorite, is it not?” He keeps it civil. More than civil, he keeps it warm, saccharine sweet even as he continues to lead you without a single misstep while giving the audience a perfect dance.

“I thought you’d forget about me,” you say, testing the waters. “Like you do to everyone who no longer interests you.”

“You think I’d be that cruel?”

“I know you would be.”

A hum rumbles in his chest and you feel it against your body, heating your cheeks. The dance goes on, gliding and spinning, the room growing dizzying either from the drinks or the way he won’t drop eye contact with you.

This much attention from him was not the plan, definitely not the goal, and as the tempo slows for the twinkling end of the piece, you think you might fall over if not for the sheer adrenaline coursing through you… and the firmness of his grip, fingers digging into the back of your corset.

As the music falls quiet, there’s a brief moment where you could hear a pin drop, the tension in the air releasing as the audience applauds. You blush, bowing to him, simmering with the dual-edged feeling of having been made a spectacle of — and a part of you enjoyed it because it was him doing it.

He offers his arm to you and you hesitate, wanting to search out Clemensia in the crowd, but with the expectant eyes still on you, it’s hardly the time to turn him down.

Shit.

You take his arm with trepidation, chewing the inside of your cheek as he leads you to the upper level of the conservatory. As you pass by Clemensia you shoot her a pleading glance, but she cannot save you, and you both know it.

He knows the place like the back of his hand and leads you to a tucked-away alcove crowned with rose arches. The plush settee is comfortable but small, and you wind up pressed against his side when you sit down. Worse still, it’s like he delights in tormenting you as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in.

“Did you enjoy doing that?” With a gentle huff, you finally speak your mind, voice hushed. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath, of his entire body, and yours never forgot how good he could make you feel, aching for him like a traitor. “Did you want to make a fool of me?”

He does nothing to assuage the pained curiosity of your words, tutting as he reaches up to finger one of your earrings. “No need. You and I can both agree you made plenty spectacle of yourself all on your own tonight, darling.”

You hold back from chewing him out, refusing to align his glance to his. It always frustrated him back then and it still does, as he moves his hand to your chin and tilts your face towards his.

“Hard time letting go?”

He knows just how to stoke the fire in you. “Of you? Never.”

“As you say.” He rubs the fabric of your skirt between his fingers. “You seemed all too comfortable letting everyone reach out to pull you around tonight, truly playing the belle of the ball, hm?”

“That’s how the Capitol landscape is and you know it. I was not trying to upstage you.”

He tuts at that. “You think that is why I’m upset?”

You furrow your brow. “What else would it be?”

“Because for all your flitting about tonight…” He lowers his voice, and you lean in instinctively. “You wouldn’t have deigned to give me the time had I not put you on the spot.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your mental game board in disarray. “You’re jealous?”

You’ve learned to not cry over him anymore. Even when it hurts, when the three years down the drain remind themself like a splinter under your nail, you’ve learned better control than that. But this time, you feel the hot prick of tears in your eyes. When one slides down your cheek, he wipes it with his thumb.

Damn it, damn him, damn it all. You swallow.

“After everything, you are jealous? I didn’t even come here with someone else.”

“You came here with Clemensia.”

“Yes, a friend.”

“She was my friend first.”

“Oh, don’t be a child.”

You roll your eyes, slapping his chest. He holds your hand there, and when the first feeling that runs through your heart is a sliver of hope, you know you’re done for.

“I’ve missed you.”

Check mate.

He wins again.

You try to pull away, but he resists, pressing you closer into him. For all that hurt, all the frustration, when you look into his eyes, when your gaze flits down to his lips, you still want to crush his lips with yours, to slot right into his life like you never left, and that thought gnaws at you. You hate yourself for it. And your mask is not that strong…

“You really could have thought about that earlier, Coriolanus. You had every opportunity.”

He seems content with not elaborating on why he froze you out, left you in the dark, and it frustrates you. His only response, in fact, is to act on the heat of the moment, pulling you into a kiss.

It’s greedy and hungry and he bites at your lower lip, causing you to whine. His lips are soft and taste of sugary pastries and finely aged wines and oh, it would be so easy to fall head first into how good it feels, how much you missed this, to climb on his lap right here…

You lick into his mouth, wanting all you can take before you part from him, unable to forget where you are, that there is no privacy in this place, and that you can’t risk everything for him — however badly you want to. When you pull away, you see the mess you’ve made of him, lipstick on the corners of his mouth, and it thrills to know he’s made one of you too.

“Not here,” you say. But it isn’t a no. It’s hardly a stop. It’s a challenge and you desperately want him to rise to it.

He waves over one of his attendants to assist in making you both presentable, leaving you in the seat once he is taken care of. You hold back a protest, ready to settle back into the shadows of his ambition, but then overhear him whispering about “ready the car” and “make sure they have a good time” before he turns back to you. There’s the fire that could burn the whole of the Capitol down if he wanted it. There’s the hunger that could have you willing to offer him of yourself just to sate him. It leaves you speechless. It leaves you burning.

He whisks you away out the back entrance to the waiting car and once seated in the back, partitions pulled up, you spare no time climbing on top of him, arms wrapping around his neck.

He fingers your earrings again, hand trailing down to your necklace. “Our first anniversary, hmm? Do you remember why I had the rose engraved in the gold?”

You aren’t interested in reminiscing anymore, you want the present moment, you want to burn your mouth on his. You kiss him again, rocking against him as you do, relishing in the way he tightly grabs your hips, helps you keep grinding down as he lifts up the skirt higher, skimming the top of your thigh-high stockings.

“Missed you too.” Your breath is hot and ragged against his skin.

You look over his face, bodies still slowly rocking together, and when your semi-glazed eyes meet his, you see nothing but fire, dangerous and warming, everything you have ever wanted from him. In a craze, you find yourself begging.

“Please… make me yours again.” It’s a romantic notion, and it will haunt you come morning, but now you are nothing but a bundle of nerves and want, all ripe for his picking.

“Patience,” he breathes against your neck, his lips on the pearls. “We’re almost there.”