#well this went longer than I thought of originally

[writingsbychlo]

WITHDRAWAL | theodore nott

summary; theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too.

word count; 3007

notes; just a cute, fluffy little piece based on something that I was tagged in about 2 months ago! unfortunately, I cannot find the original post or tagger, but if it's you, please let me know!!

If there was one thing about Theodore Nott that couldn't be denied, it was that he loved with everything he had. 

He loved his friends; he was loyal to a fault and he’d never let them down. He loved his family, he wrote over fifteen letters a week to all his aunties and cousins, and still held onto his mother’s recipe book, even to this day. 

And he loved, adored, his girlfriend with everything that he had. He’d do anything for her, crawl across hot coals if she asked, give up his magic and his money and his legacy, just to make her happy. She’d never asked as such of him, still blushed when he pulled out his wallet when they shopped and smiled brighter than the sun when he gave her a handmade card or something he’d cooked. So, to his eyes, it didn’t seem all that much when he decided to give up smoking for her. 

She hadn't asked him to, never even pulled a face when he smoked. But Theo was damn sick of trying to blow the smoke away from her when she joined him at the astronomy tower, cuddled up to his chest, because he didn’t want that poison near her. He hated watching her shiver on the colder nights, he hated waking her in the middle of the night when he got up to satiate that itch, and he hated thinking of a future where he left her too soon, running short on time, because he ruined himself.

He chucked his last box into the fireplace one impulsive morning, and thought he might go cold turkey. He’d been so moody by lunchtime that he’d almost bitten Enzo’s head off over the way he pronounced ‘tomato’. That afternoon, he’d ditched his classes and trudged through the snow to the floo connection at the Hog’s Head, and picked up enough nicotine patches from a muggle supply store to knock out a fully grown Hippogriff.

He’d torn the packaging off of one in the grimy restroom at the back of the store and slapped it onto his bicep, and almost collapsed from the relief it gave him. It wasn’t nearly as effective as picking up a packet from the newsagent’s stand he’d passed would’ve been, but as soon as his fingers had twitched to pick up a box, your face had flashed through his mind. Your face, smiling at him, your face that morning telling him how proud you were of him when he’d shared his goals in hopes of support, and it was enough to deter him from the purchase.

You were his strength, once again, as you’d always been. 

And truly, you were so proud of Theo. Changing his patches for him every evening, in time with that first one. Reading up on the muggle solutions, and making sure you were fully versed on how to help him. Keeping him busy seemed to help, when he got bored, his eyes started flicking towards the door, and the slight irritability he’d been able to keep a lid on pretty well would begin to flare up. For the most part, he’d been staying at your dorm, in an active attempt to keep away from Mattheo, who wasn’t quite ready to give up his comfortable vice just yet. 

Unfortunately, as the days went on, while Theo seemed to be handling it just fine, you were struggling. The irritability grew, even Draco’s breathing was making you want to snap pencils in half in the library, or throw Enzo off the astronomy tower if he scraped his fork on his plate one more time. You were ravenous, and nauseous, all at the same time. You wanted to eat everything but could hardly hold it down. You were dizzy, and fatigued, and your grades were going to start slipping if this continued, because it had been almost a week since you’d been able to concentrate on any thought longer than a minute, never mind a whole class. 

And now, you were lying in bed, rubbing at your eyes angrily but unable to sleep as you stared at the ceiling. Theo, for once, was sleeping soundly beside you. Since giving up smoking, his sleep patterns had been getting better, while yours were getting worse by the night. Almost a week, and you’d barely gotten nine hours of sleep put together. 

When you shuffled again, pressing yourself a little closer to Theo as you rolled onto your side, he began to surface. The arm over your midriff tightened, pulling you in until your hips were bracketed against his, and he chuckled sleepily into your neck. Burying himself in, he pressed a kiss there, and another, and another. The rough pounding of your heart settled as you clasped Theo’s hand in your own, holding them to your chest as he littered your shoulder with kisses. 

At your sigh, he rolled you over, propping himself up on his elbow and yawning. Shaking his hand free from your own, he stroked the back of a finger along your cheek, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. As his hand settled on the side of your neck instead, yours slipped up to cup his jaw, and you melted into the tender love he offered you in the darkest hours. 

“What’s wrong, tesoro? Why are you awake?”

“Why are you awake?” you rebuffed, fingers lifting to comb through his hair, to push it back out of his eyes as he blinked himself a little more awake.

He shrugged, “This is about the time I’d normally go for a smoke.” He murmured, and your eyes flickered to the clock. 

You knew well enough the schedule Theo used to keep while smoking. Your timetable had slowly synched to it over the time you’d been dating. He’d wake up during the night, at some point around two, and disappear for a smoke. He’d take twenty minutes, or thirty if he bumped into Mattheo, and then he’d come back to bed. 

You didn’t mind the disturbance. Not when he’d come back slightly chilled from the night air and snuggle in close to you, wrapping himself around you.

“Actually, this is the time you’d normally come back from having a smoke, and give me my midnight kisses.”

“Is that why my girl is so restless tonight? Because I owe her some kisses?” He teased, leaning down until your noses were bumping, and you could taste the mint on his breath. Normally, he tasted like smoke, not toothpaste, and the shock of his warm lips instead of cold ones made you hum. 

The languid kisses melted the time away, his hand sliding up your shirt, sitting on your ribs and squeezing softly as he lowered himself down, covering your body with his own. Theo had always been your comfort, and your happy place. Being in his arms made you feel safe, and his kisses made you feel relaxed. As he licked his way into your mouth lazily, you anticipated the hazy blur of relaxation that usually followed when he kissed you. 

But, like usual recently, it never came. Instead, when he finally pulled back, and pecked the tip of your nose, he found you frowning, instead of smiling up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” You huffed, frustrated at yourself, at your confusion and the growing irrational irritation. “It’s not the same.”

“What’s not the same, bella?”

“Your… your kisses.” Your words trailed to a whisper, knowing he wouldn't understand, and the hurt that flickered across his face made your heartbreak. 

“They’re not?”

“No. I don’t know why.” His lips curled further at the sides, and the look on his face made you want to cry. It made you hate yourself, aggressively, and if you could tear out your own heart and give it to him just to see him smile again, you would. Just another thing you’d been suffering with lately, an overwhelm of your emotions, worse than any mood swing you got when you were on your period. “It’s not you, Teddy, it’s me. You’re still my happy place, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“You’re not a problem, bella. But we should figure it out. I don’t want to… kiss you wrong, and see that look on your face. What’s different, tell me what’s changed?” His sweet words made tears prickle at your eyes, and you sniffed sadly as you looked at him. 

“I love you so much, Theo.”

“I know, tesoro. I love you too.” His thumb smoothed over your cheek, “Tell me.”

“I don’t know!” Your snap made his eyes widen. “You’re just… different. You don’t kiss the same way, you used to get all needy when you came back from a smoke, but you don’t anymore, and you taste different! You taste like mint right now, and it just doesn’t make me feel the same way afterwards.”

Your words were jumbled and hurried, rushed out as you smoked them and his brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what you meant. Second ticked by into silent minutes as Theo’s wonderful mind ticked and whirred, thinking the problem through, and playing with the information. Then, before you could say anything else, something clicked. You could see it in his eyes, when the gears stopped turning and the thoughts stopped flowing because he’d found the answer. 

Pulling away from you, he sat up, kicking back the covers and letting in the cold air, before moving across the room and shuffling through his gym kit left in the corner. Pulling out a nicotine packet from the box inside, he shook it out, using his teeth to tear open the packet as he made his way back to the bed. Sitting yourself up, you propped yourself in the pillows as he peeled off the plastic backing, and tried to unstick his fingers from it, holding it by the corners. 

“You’ve only had your patch on for nine hours, Teddy, it’s not time to change yet.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and settling in beside you on the bed, legs folded underneath himself. “This isn’t for me, bella. Take off your shirt.” 

Slipping your arm out of your shirt, you pushed it to the side, watching as Theo brushed cotton fibres off of your shoulder, before sealing the patch onto your skin. He made sure it was properly sealed down, flattening it to your skin, before feeding your arm back through the sleeve of your shirt. He smoothed the top back down your torso, pressing a cheeky kiss to your breast over your heart as he did, and sitting back on his legs to wait. 

“Give it a second, then tell me how you feel.” He whispered, the moment feeling entirely too fragile as his hand took yours, fingers linked together. He kissed along your knuckles, his eyes locked on your face, waiting. And the moment you felt it hit, you knew he saw it too. 

It was like a cool, soothing balm over a raw, aggravated wound. It felt like running cold water on a new burn or healing a painful graze with a quick Episky. “Oh, Merlin…”

“I know, tell me about it.” He mumbled, the smile on his face at victoriously solving the problem melting away as realisation set in. “Cazzo, bella, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have a nicotine addiction, and it’s my fault. All that time you spent with me at the tower, and the smoke on me, and kissing you as soon as I finished smoking. All your moodiness these last few days—”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, baby. It all makes sense.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and squeezed your hand tighter in the other. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I quit because I didn’t want this to happen to you, I didn’t want my problems to poison you, but it’s too late.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, Teddy.” You demand again, pulling him in, and his mouth collides with yours as he makes a subtle groan of surprise and pleasure. 

His hand gripped the headboard behind you, the other skimming down your side. As you leaned back into the pillows, you took him with you, his body falling over your own, slotting between your thighs as our hearts thudded together where his chest pressed to yours. Your hands slid over his shoulders, skimming down his back, and he moaned again as your fingernails scraped across his lower back as you tugged at his shirt. 

He sat up, letting you pull it off of him, before his arms were back, caging you in on either side as he fell back down against you. Pulling one of your legs up to sit on his hip, he dragged himself away from your mouth, trailing wet kisses down your jaw, to the pulse point on your neck and back up. 

“Merde, bella. What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re perfect, Theo.” You smiled, leaning up to steal more kisses from his lips that he was happy to reciprocate, “You’re perfect, your kisses are perfect. I knew it was me, not you. I was the problem.”

“A problem I gave you,” He groaned, his hips rolling against your own as you giggled breathlessly. 

“Yeah, whatever. Now we’re quitting together. That’s the promise we made, we do everything together, right?”

“Damn right, tesoro.” He growled, teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw, as he began to make his way down your body. Your fingers were loose in his hair, settling back in the pillows, eyes slipping closed as he kissed along the insides of your thighs, teasingly. Finally, your body could relax, no longer tense and buzzing, but the foggy comfort of the night made your muscles ease into the bed, your body feeling heavy, and you sighed in bliss. 

Theo mumbled something, and you let your legs fall a little further apart, but your grip on consciousness was falling further and further away as the nicotine coursed through your body, finally letting you ease into sleep you’d missed for days.

“Bella,” Theo said, his voice sharper, and you stirred, working hard to force your eyes open, but they’d only made it halfway. His hair was ruffled, eyes wide and lips swollen, but his smirk melted away from his face into a tender smile as he looked down at you. 

“Sorry, what’d you say, baby?” The words slurred out of you, and he chuckled. His fingers unhooked from the sides of your shorts, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “M’sorry, I’m so sleepy all of a sudden.”

“S’okay, bella. Never apologise. C’mere, let’s just cuddle.”

Tucking your body into his, you shuffled your hips back into him, and he threw his leg over yours as he held you tight to his body. “You’re hard.”

“It’ll go down, don’t worry.” He snickered, kissing the back of your head. “S’your fault anyway.”

“Sorry…” You whispered, again, sleepily. “I’ll make it up t’you t’morrow.”

“Go to sleep, amore.”

But you’d already drifted off.

It was just as you were closing your History of Magic book, that Theo announced his presence in the common room as he walked in alongside Mattheo. They were loud, and raucous, and thankfully, you were less inclined to bite their heads off for it today. 

In fact, alongside Enzo, you’d been able to catch up on all of the History homework you’d been missing out on for the last week or so, getting you back on track for at least one of your subjects. 

“Patch change time, bella!” Theo announced, making his way over to you as he untucked his shirt and began to undo the buttons down the front. Tugging the tie out of the way, he crashed down ungracefully onto the couch beside you, Mattheo nudging Draco to move up so he could sit down too. 

This had become a regular part of your routine now, and you pushed the edges of his half-unbuttoned shirt aside to reveal the patch sitting on the middle of his left pectoral. Picking at one corner, you peeled it away gently, careful not to tug on his skin as you did, and Theo watched on adoringly in silence as you took care of him. Unwrapping a new patch, you brushed off the spot, before sticking a new patch onto him and smoothing down the bandage. 

He patted it himself, before doing a couple of the buttons on his shirt back up for modesty, as though he hadn't already given half of the common room a show, before he leaned in to peck your lips. His fingers fell to the buttons of your shirt, and he began to undo them slowly. “Your turn.”

He undid just enough to reveal your shoulder, without letting anyone else catch a glimpse of anything underneath, and as he leaned down to begin peeling away the old patch, you caught Enzo’s confused expression. 

“Why are you wearing a patch?” He asked, and Theo laughed to himself quietly as he changed your old one out. 

“Because loverboy here got me addicted too, through kisses and secondary smoke.”

The others burst out laughing, unfettered by your glaring as they made kissy sounds and crude remarks, while Theo buttoned your shirt back up. Your glare turned to him as you caught sight of his smile, and he shrugged, a lopsided smile on his lips. “What can I say, bella? I’m just that good.”

“Oh, shut it,” You smacked his chest, and he took your hand, tugging you forward to cuddle you into his chest as he kissed your temple. 

“I happen to think it’s adorable that as a by-product of how you got addicted, that means you were addicted to me.”

“Mhmm.” Your eyes rolled, and he squeezed you even tighter. 

“You had me addicted to you without any substances at all, bella. Just you.”

“Alright,” You scoff, “Stop sweet-talking me.”

“Never.”

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the handyman

pairing: neighbor! joel miller x f! reader

cws/tags: pure smut, DADDY KINK, oral m & f receiving, p in v (unprotected), an abundance of pet names, reader is under 21 but over 18 (for the plot), reader is kinda stupid, big dick joel, not beta read

summary: pwp honestly. basically a porn plot? idk joel comes over to reader's grandma's house to fix the smoke detector (which she broke) and he teaches her how to be a good girl.

a/n: don't ask why reader lives with her grandma, originally this was going to be longer and it was going to be more relevant

join my taglist!

wc: 2k

You open the front door to and see an unfamiliar man standing at your doorstep – 40 something, jeans and a t-shirt, progressively more handsome the longer you look at him. You size him up, trying to decide what his intentions are.

“Whatever it is you’re selling – I don’t wanna buy it," you say.

He opens his mouth, but you continue before he can say anything. “I don’t even live here anyway, and before you ask she’s not home, so you can’t talk to her.”

“I ain’t here to sell you shit.”

“Well, I don’t wanna sign anything either.”

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t want you to.”

“Then why are you here? I don’t have a lot of time before One Tree Hill comes back on, so make it quick.”

“I’m Joel. I live down the street. I’m here to fix your smoke detector.”

“Oh, in that case, come on in,” you say, changing your demeanor entirely as you realize that you really need to get in this man’s good graces.

“So, you’re ‘handyman’ grandma’s been talking about?” you ask, as you lead him to the kitchen.

“She’s been talking about me?”

“Yeah. She talks about you like you’re her boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say?”

“I dunno. I wasn’t really listening. I thought it might just be some dementia-induced delusion.”

“Well, she’s told me quite a bit about you.”

“Good things?”

“Better than the things she says about all of your other family members.”

“You know what they say, ‘if you don’t want people to talk badly about you, then you shouldn’t ruin Christmas.’”

“Uh-huh,” he says, only half-listening as he approaches the scene of the crime - a broken smoke detector, now just wires and plastic, lays on the kitchen counter. He studies it for a minute, furrowing his brows. “Jesus Christ. What happened?”

“It just fell off the wall.” You shrug, acting nonchalant and hoping he doesn't notice your shifty eyes from across the kitchen.

“No way,” he says – not with curious incredulity, but knowing disapproval.

He turns to you and crosses his arms over his chest, and engages you in a short staring contest.

“What?” you ask, feigning innocence.

Joel swipes the dish rag from the countertop and reveals the evidence you’d hidden under it like he's performing a magic trick.

He holds up the hammer, displaying it to you. He looks mostly disappointed in you - in an oddly paternal way, but also slightly amused, likely by how poorly you’d conducted this whole covert operation of yours. “Why’d you break it?”

“I didn’t break it.”

“Kid, I’m not an idiot. Just fess up, so we can fix it and move on.”

“Are you gonna tell on me?”

“You afraid of your meemaw’s wrath?” he teases.

“I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.”

“Should she be?”

“I didn’t mean to break it. I just wanted it to stop beeping.”

“It’s supposed to beep.”

You give him a pathetic pout that you hope works. It doesn’t. It only makes his gaze harden.

“I’m sorry. It was just one cigarette, and I really, really didn’t want to get in trouble… so when it went off, I panicked and hit it with the hammer.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re a piece of work, kid. Making me come out here on my lunch break-”

“-I’m sorry," you interrupt, "I won’t do it again, so just please, please don’t tell on me.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I could offer you something… something to show my infinite remorse for my actions and my infinite gratitude to you for fixing the mess I made.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Okay. What’s your offer?”

His smirk makes you think you’re on the same page so you get down on your knees in front of him, but when you look up into his eyes, what stares back at you is complete bewilderment.

“Get up,” he says, offering you his hand.

“I thought…”

“I don’t think you were thinking,” he says condescendingly.

“You’ve gotta learn to listen to the thoughts up here,” he says, tapping you on your temple. “Not the ones down here.” His finger brushes against your clit.

The way he speaks to you only makes it worse, the throbbing, aching feeling between your legs. You can’t find a single thing to say that isn’t ‘please’ followed by some utterly depraved suggestion.

Joel turns back to his work, somehow unfazed by the interaction.

“Normally, I’d think this sounds a bit too chauvinistic to ask, but since you owe me, can you get me a beer from the garage?”

Oh fuck. Three strikes, you’re out.

“We don’t have any beer.”

“You sure about that? I just put a six pack in there last week.”

“Maybe my grandma drank them already…”

“Your grandmother said that Budweiser tastes like cat piss.”

“It does.”

“Yeah? And how would you know that? I thought you weren’t 21 yet. Who’s buying you alcohol?”

“I didn’t know they were yours.”

“Uh-huh, but I bet your grandma would’ve told you they were if you’d asked her. But she doesn’t know about your ‘habits’, does she?”

“No,” you admit weakly.

“Come here.”

You step towards him, and wait for him to give you an earful or to threaten to reveal your secrets.

“I’m reconsidering your little offer.”

Your face lights up at the opportunity to make things right, to expunge this from your record.

“So if I did that, we’d be cool, right?”

“Depends on how good you are, darlin’.”

For a second time that afternoon, you sink to your knees, but this time, Joel gives you the go-ahead. You try to balance the coyness you’ve seen women in the movies demonstrate with the eagerness you feel inside as you undo his belt.

With his jeans halfway down his legs, you place your palm over the bulge in his boxers and feel him twitch at your touch. When his cock is finally released from its confines, you try not to be too intimidated. Your confidence is falling but your arousal only rises.

You begin by wrapping your hand around him and stroking his length, setting a steady pace. Then, you tease the tip with kitten licks and hear his breath hitch when you flick your tongue across his slit.

There’s no way you can take him all the way down your throat – you’d probably bruise your esophagus. Still, you try, sputtering and letting saliva drip down your chin. You can’t help but feel a bit proud of yourself when he has to put his hand on the counter to steady himself.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he says through heavy breaths.

You pull away, upset at what you perceive to be a failure. “You didn’t cum…”

“I almost did, baby girl, but I don’t want to yet.”

You feel a bit pathetic imagining how you must look from his perspective, with your teary eyes, begging him to let you go on.

“You wanna give me a good apology, right?” He nods slowly, looking into your eyes, prompting you to do the same.

“Then, I want you to come sit on the couch with me.”

He takes your hand and walks you to the living room, patronizing since the two rooms are connected. When Joel sits down on the couch, he pulls you into his lap.

“I was thinkin’ about what I said before – how you’re not using your head. You could be such a smart girl – a good girl - if only you could think with your brain. You just need a little bit of help.”

You can feel his hard cock poking through his boxers and rubbing against your pussy. It’s hard to resist the urge to roll your hips, just to get a bit of friction, a bit of relief.

His hand finds its way between your legs and he asks, “What’s gonna happen if I put my hand in your panties right now, baby? Are you gonna be wet?”

While you try to form a response that doesn’t make you sound too desperate, his fingers toy with your waistband. “Remember, baby, good girls are honest,” he whispers into the shell of your ear.

“Yeah, I am… wet.”

“For me?” His hand meets your bare skin and finds that you are, indeed, dripping wet. “Did I do this to you?”

“Uh-huh.” You arch into his touch, shamelessly using his fingers for your own pleasure.

“If you want more, you have to be a good girl.”

With the promise of a reward, you follow his implied instructions and still your hips.

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

He takes your word for it and begins rubbing circles on your clit. You could cum from that alone but he slips a finger inside you, curling it upward to meet that special spot.

Joel expects a response from you, but not the one he gets.

A single word: “Daddy…”

“Oh, baby. I get it now. Been needin’ daddy to take care of you.”

He’s right. You do need this. He can take care of you, you can be good for him. When he fucks you with his fingers, you swear you could fall in love with him.

But when he takes them away, you cry.

“Shh… It’s okay,” he says, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I wanna do something else. It’s gonna make you feel even better.”

Before you have a chance to think, your panties are on the floor and his head is between your thighs. You can feel his breath on your clit when he speaks. “I want you to be a good girl and cum on my face – can you do that?”

“Yes, daddy.” The word leaves your mouth more naturally than it probably should, it's almost instinctual.

Joel wastes no more time talking, knowing his tongue can convey much more when it runs along your folds, and his lips can elicit a better response when they suck lightly on your clit.

The only thing you have for him is moans accompanied by breathless chanting of “daddy, daddy, daddy.”

He hums into your core, an affirmative, a reminder that you are a good girl. You can do this.

You can cum for him. You will cum for him – there is nothing that can stop the euphoria that rushes through you. It’s the kind that makes your legs shake and your eyes roll back into your head.

Joel was right – the orgasm clears your mind. But the realization that the situation you’ve ended up in – naked on your grandmother’s couch with her middle-aged neighbor who is supposed to be fixing your mistake, not helping you make another - is a precarious one. Being a smart girl seems to be a double edged sword.

Euphemistically, speaking.

In truth, it’s Joel’s cock that’s fully-sheathed inside you. Pain and pleasure mix as he thrusts in and out of you. You swear he might split you open, but even if he quite literally tore you to pieces, you'd die happily.

“You’re takin’ it so well,” he tells you, “knew you’d be a good girl.”

And maybe it’s the praise, or maybe it’s his thumb on your clit, but you’re rapidly approaching a second orgasm. All you can do is hold onto Joel, dragging your nails down his back. He bites your neck in response, and hopefully he doesn’t intend for it be a deterrent, because it only serves to heighten your pleasure.

He slows his pace, but his hips slam into yours harder, filling the air with the sound of skin slapping against skin in a steady rhythm.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You can’t breathe when the weight of his cock knocks the wind out of you, so he stops, allowing you to answer.

“Yours, daddy!”

His lips on yours are your cue to cum – or so you hope because it happens regardless of your will.

He has the sense to pull out and let his release spill onto your stomach.

You sigh, relaxing into the couch. “I need a cigarette,” you say.

“Did you not learn anything from today?”

“Mm-mm,” you say grinning dumbly.

Caught up in a daze – absolutely enraptured by his need to have you – he made the mistake of fucking you stupid.

[endlessthxxghts]

Bend Over

Javier Peña x afab!reader || W/C: 4.8k

Summary: Your dresser craps out on you. Your boyfriend, Javier, comes with you to IKEA to buy a new one. Then, he fucks you on it.

Content/Warnings: I think you know what you guys are getting into based on the summary😗. Reader is able-bodied. Slight implied physical descriptors Javi is taller than reader, and the IKEA dresser is slightly bigger/taller than you (everything else is neutral - no size descriptions - ex. "your form", etc.). Pet names (good girl, querida, cariño, baby, baby girl, mama, mi amor). Implied that reader knows Spanish. A little allusion to our favorite contractor, Joel Miller (blink and you’ll miss it). SMUT 18+ MDNI. Public sexual activity (exhibitionism). Finger fucking. Edging. Slight undertones of BDSM dynamics. Javi’s filthy mouth. Thigh riding. Hickey/marking. P in V unprotected sex. Choking. Breeding kink (I’m not sorry). Cum play. Anal play. Brief pussy licking + rimming. Allusion to further sexual activity. I thiiiink that’s it… let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: HIII I’M BACK! I went to ikea to buy a new dresser. And the thots between @javierpena-inatacvest and I ran wild. So, this was born.👹 Also, I no longer have a tag list, but I teased this story TWICE in some WIP tag games, and a few of you were giving me so much love and wanting me to let you know when this story was posted, so I’m adopting the tag list (at da bottom) one last time to say how much I love you all. 🥹 I’m sorry this took me so long. Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!!

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG

It was supposed to be just a trip to IKEA. It was supposed to be a productive day of building your dresser and rearranging your room. That is what it was supposed to be. 

How it ended up with you getting your guts rearranged on top of said dresser—you’re not so sure. But, considering this is Javier Peña you’re talking about, maybe you have a slight indication of why your day ended up the way it did. 

It was early this morning when your dresser decided to shit on you; all you did was slide the door open, and it completely pulled off of its hinge. Now, you don’t mind a doorless dresser, it’s modern, you tried to convince yourself, but when you pulled out the second drawer and the wood snapped in half, scattering your panties all over the ground—yeah, okay, it was definitely time for a new one. 

You called your boyfriend after you cleaned up your clothes, and asked if he wanted to come with you on your hunt for the new piece of furniture. Why are you even asking? he scolded as he saddled up into his Jeep and made his way to your place. 

He stepped out of his seat in the driver side, rounding the hood to pull you in for a lengthy kiss as he pulled the passenger side door open for you. “Well, hello to you, too, baby,” you giggle as you break the kiss for a breath of air. He leaves a slap to your ass as he guides you by your hips into the passenger seat. He even buckles you in, stealing one more kiss before you two head off. 

You thought shopping for a new dresser would be simple: get in, choose a sizable one that could fit everything your previous dresser could, and also make sure it matches the rest of your room’s theme. Simple, right? Wrong. As long as Javier was involved, he took his sweet time really studying each option you were pointing out—analyzing it to ensure it wouldn’t crap out on you like your original one did. 

“How long did you have this dresser?” He asked as he was pulling into the IKEA parking lot. 

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you thought, “maybe a few years?”

“A few years?!” Javier asked, exasperated. “Where the hell did you find that fucking thing?”

You let a beat of silence pass before you answered. “...I thrifted it,” you admit weakly. 

Javier puts the car in park, his face in utter shock at what just came out of your mouth. “Querida, what-” he starts. 

You pull him in immediately, shutting him up with your lips against his. It works, of course. “Let’s go?” you ask. 

“Y-yeah, vamos (let’s go),” he says, flustered. 

“Javi, c’mon,” you whine, feeling exhausted after his analysis on your third option since the first two didn’t pass the Peña inspection. “Since when were you a contractor? The first two were perfectly fine, baby, it’s IKEA for crying out loud.”

He scoffs. “Living on the ranch with Pop,” he replies to your sarcastic remark. “You and I are both aware I know my way around some handiwork,” he adds as he looks back to you, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face. 

You want to roll your eyes, but you can’t help the way your body ignites to the suggestion laced in his words. “Pendejo,” you mutter to yourself, fighting the heat from making it to your face. 

You walk around some more while your boyfriend opens every nook and cranny of the wooden frame, but then right as you turn your body, you find it. The dresser. HEMNES. You quickly make your way to it, running your hands along the dark brown surface, crouching down to open up and see how much space is in the drawers—which, it’s very spacious. The drawer itself is taller than your waistline, probably reaching just at your belly button. It’s perfect. “Baby, wait, come here! I think I found one!” You call out. 

Javier follows your voice, intrigued by your excitement—you didn’t show this much enthusiasm with the other ones he was looking at. He rounds the corner and is met with quite a view. You are bending over the top of the dresser, on your tippy toes, trying to feel for the depth of the dresser. He sees you settle your hands at the edges of the top and shake it a little, testing out its durability while also unknowingly wiggling your ass. Fuck me, he thinks. Quickly adjusting his pants, he makes his way to you, situating his body directly against yours as he cages you in. 

“Jav-” you softly gasp, not expecting to feel him. Immediately you’re pulling yourself up, still on your tippy toes, but your back is now flush against his chest. 

“Ay, Dios mío,” he grunts as he whispers in your ear, “Querida, please get up.” His hands are on your hips, pulling you away from the dresser. You turn in his hold, a giggle leaving your throat as you look at his stressed out expression, realizing why his reaction was so pained. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask him quietly. “Saw something you like, huh?” You pull him in by his neck, kissing the side of his mouth before you pull away from him completely. Gesturing to the dresser, you ask, “Does this one pass the inspection, sir?” 

He glares at you before he replies. “Yeah, let’s get this one.”

Your eyebrow quirks up. “You didn’t even look at it.” 

“I saw enough, cariño,” he says gruff, looking at the tag on the display and taking note of which aisle the box will be at. 

You know your man well enough to know when he’s turned on, and that little unintentional stunt you pulled when making sure HEMNES was the right dresser for you—oh, it absolutely sent him over the edge. You decided to let him brew in his own arousal until you checked out your purchase, but the moment you set foot in his car again, you were set on starting something you wanted him to finish. 

“Thank you again for coming with me, baby,” you say as he settles back into the driver seat, your hand taking its seat on his upper thigh. 

The muscle twitches underneath your palm. “Mhm,” he mutters, voice wavering at your contact. Just as Javier puts the car in drive, he’s immediately pushing it back to park because your hand slides higher, closer, to the hardening bulge between his legs. His hips softly buck into your grasp; you take one look at him, and you can see the veins in his neck popping. A victory smile graces your face as his turns into a scowl. “What are you doing?”

You feign as much innocence as possible. “What am I doing? I’m just saying thank you, baby, I can’t tell you thank you?” 

“Right,” he says unconvinced. Your fingers continue to draw little shapes across the strained material of his pants. You go to cup him entirely, but the strength of his hand stops you. 

He releases your hand and gets out of the car, the car still running. He is at your side faster than you can take your own seatbelt off. He’s pulling your door open and giving you no chance for debate, his hand wraps around your jaw and pulls you into a bruising kiss—a messy yet calculated dance of teeth and tongue, and in pulling away he’s biting your bottom lip, pulling the sweetest little desperate whimper from your throat. He clocks the way your hips softly grind into his seat. 

“J-jav,” your voice shakes, “w-what are you doing-”

His grip on your jaw tightens, giving you a little shake as he speaks. “You had your fun, cariño,” he breathes. “My turn now.” 

His hand leaves your face and snakes down the front of your body, unzipping your jeans as you just stare wildly at the sight below you, your breathing erratic as your body anticipates his next move. 

“We- we’re in the fucking parking lot still, Javi!” You whisper yell at him, pissed, even though your body is doing absolutely nothing to stop him. He smirks at that fact. You want this. 

“Guess you’ll just have to keep quiet for me, yeah?” His fingers slip past your jeans, past your underwear, and you’re fucking soaked. His middle and ring finger bypass your clit, circling your entrance to gather the wetness accumulating before he comes back up to circle your throbbing bud. 

“Oh, fuck,” you yelp out, your eyes rolling back and your hips pushing into his hand as you hiss out in the pleasure. At your volume, Javi’s quick to stop his ministrations, cupping your mound and squeezing you as a warning. If the space allowed, you know he would’ve slapped your cunt. This alternative is equally as dizzying. 

“Open your eyes, baby,” he rasps. Your eyes flutter open. “You see all these people, huh? You want them to see you? See my good girl getting finger fucked in broad fucking daylight?”

“F-fuck, Jav” you whimper, much quieter this time, as your eyes land back on your man’s as you try and grind yourself on him. Javi’s fingers find your entrance then, sliding in with ease as a new wave of arousal pours out of you. 

“Oh, you like that idea, don’t you?” His fingers speed up their momentum as he adds his thumb into the mix, hurtling you much closer to your finish line than you anticipated. 

“Baby, I’m c-close, I’m- fuck- I’m gonna cum, Javi, I-” you bring your hand up over your mouth to stifle the sobs that are about to leave your mouth.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna give us a show?” He asks, his breathing just as erratic as yours. All you need is one more little push from his thumb on your clit, and then-

“No!” you cry.

Right as you were about to fall over the edge, Javier completely pulls his fingers out of you, standing up straight as he licks his fingers off. Your hips don’t realize he left you as they buck a few more times, chasing the feeling of what could have been. 

“Baby, please, I was so close,” you heave, your heart rate equivalent to that of a hummingbird. 

Javier leans down into the car, slotting his lips against yours terribly slow; your taste lingers on his tongue. He pulls away. “Sorry, mama,” he whispers. “Only I get to see you fall apart like that.” 

He zips and buttons your pants up, leaving you a stunned, aroused, wet mess as he makes his way back to the driver seat and pulls out of the parking spot, driving back to your place as if nothing even happened. 

The drive home is short, but it feels like the longest drive you’ve ever had to endure. He rests his hand on your thigh the entire time, squeezing you every now and then as his pinky leaves featherlight touches where you need him most. He talks to you during the drive—about what, you honestly have no clue, but it seemed the conversation was enough for him to sustain alone. 

You’re brought out of your daze when his hand grabs your jaw, turning you to look at him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, knowing damn well what’s got your head in the clouds. 

The throbbing between your legs remained consistent—worse, even—on the drive home, so no you’re not fucking okay. You don’t tell him that, though. “Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your vocal cords to string together something coherent. 

He pulls your lips to his—a lingering one, one that has your mind slipping further. Breaking the embrace, he says softly, “Go unlock the door, amor, while I carry the box in, yeah?” 

On wobbly legs, you make your way to your door, missing the hole a few times but eventually the key slides in with ease. You toss them into the bowl on the entryway table, making your way to the kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water to contain yourself until Javier comes inside. 

Apparently, you’re way more distracted than you thought, because one gulp down and he’s behind you—hands on your waist, mouth on your neck. You set the glass down a little harshly, its weight suddenly increasing tenfold with the way he’s on you. 

“Baby,” you whine, your head falling back onto his shoulder. “Please.”

Your boyfriend is turning you around then, turning you to face him, and his mouth is on yours, licking and sucking as his body pushes you up against the fridge, your head landing with a soft thud as his mouth starts to descend down your neck while his fingers work your buttons and zipper for the second time today. 

He’s pulling your bottoms down to your ankles—they’re loose on your form, so they don’t restrict you too much from opening your legs when he slots his thigh in between you, hitting right against your core. 

His lips never leave you, biting and kissing every inch he can reach while his hands find their home at the globe of your asscheeks, securing his grip as he begins a steady pace of your crying pussy back and forth on his clothed thigh. 

“Just like that, cariño, I can feel you fluttering on me already, holy fuck,” he groans as he continues his assault on your chest, leaving pretty bruises all over the valley of your breasts. “Making such a mess, pretty girl,” he mutters into your skin. 

Your hands snake to the curls at the back of his head, yanking them as he brings you back closer and closer to the finish line. He brings his lips back to yours sloppily, one hand leaving your ass to paw at your chest, his fingers rubbing and twisting at your nipples; they harden in his touch.

Your eyes struggle to stay open, his tight jeans providing the yummiest friction against your clit. “I- I’m gonna- please, Jav, I- I need to cum,” you sob. 

His hand at your chest snakes down your body, following the path to your sex. Just as you think he’s about to slip his hands between your legs, his hand changes direction, both hands going up to grip your waist to stop you from moving. His thigh leaves your core, and you’re fighting—your hips chase his muscle, your fingers scrambling to pull him flush against you, but he doesn’t budge. It’s no use. Your high is gone again, painfully forced back to the start line as Javier bends down to grab your panties and work their way back up your legs. 

You’re a heaving mess, tears falling from your eyes as pathetic little protests fall from your lips. 

Exhausted, you sigh and finally blurt out, “Javier Peña, what the fuck are you doing?” 

You can see the faintest shit-eating smirk fall on his face before he mirrors what you did earlier: feign innocence. “Gotta go build your dresser, mi amor.” 

“I can fucking build it later.” 

“But I’m already here. I’ll do it.” 

“Yeah, but your presence is needed elsewhere,” you say, annoyed. You faintly gesture to your sobbing cunt, silenced by your soaked underwear. 

“But if I’m here, I’ll do it, so you don’t have to,” he says, placing a chaste kiss to the side of your mouth. 

“Javi,” you whine, hoping a thousand different ways of are you fucking serious right now translates to him in the tone of your sexual frustration. 

“Just sit pretty for me while I go do it real quick, okay, cariño?” 

Not giving you the chance to respond, he drags you by the wrist to your bedroom, forcing you to get settled in the reading chair you have in there—a prime spot to watch him get all sweaty as he works. Great. 

You wouldn’t have riled him up if you had known this was the kind of torturous game he had in mind. 

Twenty minutes in, and Javier is sweating alright, but it’s not for the reasons you’re thinking. Yeah, it’s a physical strain building this dresser, but this is fucking light work for him. 

No, he’s sweaty, sticky, and disgustingly hot because his dick is at his full potential, throbbing and leaking at everything you put him through—and everything he put himself through, pulling you to the brink of orgasm twice without letting you fully submit to it. He damn near always gets off when you do, and teasing you like this teases him just as much, if not more. 

He’s almost done, he just has one more drawer to put together and slide into place, but he takes a step back and uses his arm to wipe the sweat across his forehead, his breathing heavy during the action. It takes everything in you not to completely melt at what he’s forcing you to witness, a faint whimper escaping you at the sight of him. 

It takes him barely a minute to get the last drawer assembled before he attempts sliding it into place. It goes in with ease at first, but before it can fully shut, the drawer gets stuck, unable to close by an inch. What the fuck, he mutters under his breath, lifting it up and wiggling to see if it’s just a kink inside the railing. Your jaw falls a little open at the vulgarity of his mouth; you are way too wound up and everything he’s doing right now has your pussy doing backflips, somersaults, cartwheels—you name it. She’s very eager. 

Fed up with the drawer, Javier completely opens the drawer and then slams it shut, using his hips to give the drawer a full-force push. The slam of the wood is deafening, but it does nothing to hide the sweet little gasp that comes out of you, his cock twitching at the sound. 

A high-pitched, breathy squeak of an oh fuck leaves your mouth, and Javier turns to check on you. He sees your fingers skating down your front, running your middle and ring finger over your soaked center, your clit’s fire immediately reigniting at the contact. 

“¿Cariño?” He calls, a sternness evident in his tone. You know not to test that tone. Your fingers’ movements pause, your eyes meet his and they’re dark. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jesus fuck, he doesn’t even know if he has the strength to fuck you like he was planning on, the sight of you touching yourself has a fire igniting through every vein in his body. 

Your eyebrows are furrowed, nervousness written all over your face. “I…um, I-” you start. 

“Get up,” he cuts you off. 

“What?” You say softly, your brain already scrambled eggs and unable to register what he just asked of you. 

His singular eyebrow raises as he stalks closer to you, his hard gaze looking down at you as your pussy cries even more at the attention. Now his command registers, and you’ll be damned if you have to make him repeat himself. 

You remove your hand from your center, lifting yourself off your chair. He snags you by your waist, pulling your body flush against his front as he steals the breath from your lungs, your tongues meeting hungrily. You moan into his mouth, your hands slowly wrapping around his neck, but before you can grip his sweet curls, he’s pulling away from you, your surprised gasps blessing his ears as he flips you roughly but with ease towards the direction of your new dresser, already in its place secured against the wall. 

“Javi,” you whimper again for what feels like the millionth time already. 

“Dime qué quieres, cariño,” (tell me what you want) he rasps in your ear, his hands skating down your front and resuming what you so desperately started.

“F-fuck-” you start, “fuck me, Javi, please, please fuck me,” you beg, your heart stuttering as he dips his middle finger into your entrance.

He kisses your temple as your eyes fall shut, a contrastingly sweet gesture for the way he’s about to ruin you right now. 

“Then bend over.” 

Now that sobers you up a little. You start to crane your neck in his direction. “W-what?” But he’s quick to grab your jaw, bringing your eyes back to your dresser. “Go do what you were doing earlier, baby. Bend over that dresser for me,” he says, soft but stern, then he’s taking a step back, letting you get there on your own. 

So hooked on his body heat, you can’t help the shudder that leaves you, but ultimately you’re making your way to your new dresser—picking yourself up on your tippy toes to lean over the top, just like you were doing with the store’s floor model. “L-like this?” You ask, voice trembling in anticipation. You stick your ass out a little extra for good measure. 

You hear his belt buckle before you register his deep grumble. “Yeah, baby,” he tells you, slowly making his way to your backside. “So good for me,” he breathes, his fingers hooking into the hem of your underwear and letting them fall to the ground. You step out of them, knowing his next step is gonna be to nudge your legs further open—and he does, using his foot to nudge both of yours outwards. 

He runs his middle finger through your slick as he lets his jeans fall, your hips push further into his touch, chasing the pleasure you’ve been buzzing for all morning. 

“Baby, please,” he hears escaping your mouth. 

“Nuh uh, baby,” he tuts, “I told you. You had your fun already, it’s my turn.” 

He runs his fingers through your wet seam, properly soaking his digits before he brings his hand to his own arousal, covering himself in your slick. He groans at the feeling. Javier crowds himself behind you, his tip immediately mirroring the path of his fingers. He catches himself against your clit, and he smirks at the wrecked sounds of your heavy breathing. 

He pushes himself into you, slow and steady, getting you comfortable in his size. His fingertips are digging little bruises into your hips—his way of grounding himself from absolutely pummeling into you from the get go. 

You two have been together for quite some while, but Javi knows he’s big. It’s evident in the way you mewl and convulse every time he’s inside of you. Too big to get used to, yet perfect for the slight tinge of pain he knows you love. 

“Baby, please move,” you pant. 

“You sure, cariño?” He says softly, his dominant demeanor fading to make sure you’re alright. 

You reach back to grab onto his hand and drag it up your own body, settling his long digits around the base of your neck. With a squeeze of your hand over his: “Fuck me, Jav, please.” 

At your queue, he’s pushing himself into you entirely. “Yeah, baby?” He snarls. “Want me to fuck you like this?” His hips form a hard pace, your hips digging into the ledge of the dresser. “This what your pretty little pussy wants, huh? What she’s been fucking crying for, baby?”

“Fuck-” you gasp. “Fuck, yes- Javi, yesyesyes! Amor, please,” you wail, your eyes rolling back as the pressure of his fingers on your neck restrict your blood flow, filling your body with a euphoria only he can give you. 

His eyes scan down your body, taking in every inch of you with nothing but pure adoration. The sweetness fades when his eyes zone in on where your two centers meet. He lets out an audible moan at the sight, sending your pussy fluttering at the sound. “Look at you, bebita, fucking creaming on me, holy fuck,” he groans, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

“I- I’m close, baby, fuck-” your breath stutters. “Touch me, Jav, I- I need you,” you moan. 

“Shh, I’ve got you, mi amor.” Javi’s hand on your throat leaves you and coasts down your spine, his grip fixing itself on the globe of your ass. 

He reaches down with his thumb to gather some of your slick, dragging it up to your tight, more inexperienced hole. You gasp when you feel it, your ass bucking further into his touch. “Oh, my baby girl likes that? You like your ass being played with, cariño?” He taunts, hooking his thumb inside. “Want to me to fuck you there next time?”

“Fuck- yes- please,” you whimper, your pussy fluttering around him at his words. His other hand snakes to your front and reaches for your clit, drawing tight, calculated circles on you. “Oh, fuck-!” you yell out.

“That’s it, baby, fucking- dámelo, fucking soak me, querida” he forces out between his teeth. Your body twitches in his grasp, knuckles stark white against your dresser, eyes clamped shut as you cry out in the overwhelming pleasure consuming every inch of your body. “Fuck,” he groans, your sounds forcing his balls to pull taut. Javi’s fingers speed up along with his thrusts, hurtling you towards your long-awaited climax. 

It’s overstimulating, him fucking into you so harshly as every nerve ending in your body pops off like fireworks. Yet, you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you, the way his pace stutters for barely a second, and you know he’s close. It’s overstimulating, yes, but you want, no, need him to continue, you need him to chase his own finish line—you need him to root himself so deep inside you, you’ll feel traces of him for months on end. 

“You’re close, I can feel it,” you gasp, building your own rhythm of your hips to help him along. “Need it, baby, need you inside of me,” you pant, your voice desperate. You pull yourself off the dresser and push your back into his chest, both his hands leaving your body to grip onto the darkwood, caging you in. 

“Yeah?” you feel his heavy breath fan across your cheek. “Tell me how fucking’ bad, querida, wanna hear it,” he says, voice strained.

You look back at him as best you can in this angle, your lips ghosting his jaw as the slick sounds of you grow louder. “Need you so bad even plan B can’t help us- God- please cum inside of me, Javier Peña, fucking give it to me,” you beg, your moans echoing the walls and rattling every fibre of his being, pushing his body into a state of pure ecstasy as he begins to empty himself into you. 

“Oh…fuck,” he grunts, his hips coming to a halt as he nearly wheezes through his orgasm. Once the sensitivity calms down, Javi pumps himself in and out of you a few more times for good measure, pushing his load deep inside of you. You can feel the way he slides in with a wet ease, and it makes butterflies in your belly erupt, a small gasp of a giggle, knowing that the soaked sensation isn’t because of solely your own product. 

“Fucking perfect,” he grumbles, slowly pulling himself out of you. He takes a small step back to get a look at your used cunt, puffy and glistening. His mouth literally waters. 

Javi drops to his knees, settling his broad palms on each of your ass cheeks to keep the view of you open for him. Slowly, he leans in, the flat of his tongue running over your delicate pearl through your cum-soaked folds, a mix of you and him blessing each taste bud on his tongue. He hears your breath hitch. 

He brings his tongue back in, collecting up the salty combination, before he’s on you again, mapping out the ring of your puckered muscle before he softly peppers the area in sweet kisses, your rear slightly irritated with his repeated slamming into you. 

He pulls himself away, giving you a moment to turn around; your back is to the dresser now. He places several kisses on your thighs, giving a few more kitten licks to your center before he’s rising to his feet and pulling you in for a deep yet gentle kiss. You can taste both you and him, and it makes your heart want to burst at the seams with warmth. 

“You okay?” He asks softly as his lips break away from yours. 

“Always with you,” you offer bashfully. 

“Good,” he says firmly, kissing the tip of your nose. You hear his hand smack the top of your dresser a few times. “I guess this thing is pretty fucking durable, huh?” 

“Mmmm, maybe. I think it needs to pass one more test,” you tell him. 

His eyebrow quirks up, you can see his mustache twitch, fighting his smirk. “And what test would that be, mi amor?” 

Taking a step back out of his hold, you back up into the dresser again, grabbing onto the ledge and you jump, spreading your legs wide open for him to fit in between. 

You can see the way his eyes flash impossibly darker. He stalks up to you again, his hands squeezing your thighs before he’s back on his knees, his head immediately burying himself in your core. 

Oh, yeah, this dresser passes the test, alright. 

Tagging those who showed interest when I posted the WIP !! @honeyedmiller , @punkshort , @joels-shitty-puns , @bearsbeetsbeskar , @janaispunk , @starry-eyes-love

If you enjoyed this, come check out my masterlist for more or follow my notifs blog @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to get updated on when I post new stories! Much love💚

@pedrostories

[planetaryupscaled]

Steamy Vacation

Male OC x Yeji x Yuna

Tags: 5k, cheating, oral, creampie, threesome

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“Fuck! Yesss! Keep going!” Hwang Yeji moaned.

“Almost there,” Minho told Yeji as he repeatedly impaled the ravishing idol with his cock.

“Little bit longer…almost there,” she said between breaths. “Do it…at the same time.”

Both of them were naked and having sex in the Jeju apartment bedroom. Minho had his arms on either side of Yeji as he was on top of her doing her in the missionary position. She had one of her legs wrapped around him and as her third orgasm of the afternoon approached, she reached up and grabbed onto his biceps.

“Now, Minho. Now! Annhhhh!,” She let out a loud moan as she came, and watching her o-face and feeling her already incredibly tight pussy clamp on his cock drove him to fill the condom he was wearing with his second load with her that day. He lowered himself to kiss her before rolling off of her. She let out a pleasurable sigh, and then said, “I love vacation sex.”

“You’re happy to be out for a bit, or are you happy to be on vacation from your boyfriend?”

“Watch it,” she said giving him a playful slap. She didn’t like him talking about her boyfriend, especially not while they were both naked together. Minho and Yeji’s boyfriend had never warmed up to one another. Minho wasn’t sure what the deal was between Yeji and her boyfriend.

They had been dating for several years, but that didn’t stop her from hooking up with him after that summer time in Busan, at first, he thought it was supposed to be a one-time thing but one thing led to another, now he just consider himself a lucky guy.

You bet he is.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“I need to take a shower,” she said, getting out of bed and walking naked to the bathroom.

“Want some help?” he asked as he followed her.

“No, we need to get ready,” she told him.

“We have time,” he said as he plopped the used condom into the trash bin.

“Not really, and we both know what will happen if we get in the shower together.”

“I’m not sure if you can, but I can control myself,” He said confidently, but jokingly. She did not give an audible answer, she rolled her eyes at him and then looked down. She slapped his cock lightly, and his erection bobbed up and down for a moment.

“Alright, fair point,” he conceded, “but you know what we could be doing is better than seeing anything on Lotte.”

“Yeah, sure,” she laughed. “Look, I promised Yuna I’d take Hongsam for a walk before leaving, so you can go do that while I shower. This way I don’t need to worry about you sneaking in with me.”

“So you’re kicking me out?”

“Temporarily,” she answered and lightly pushed him back until he was outside the bathroom. Minho didn’t put up a fight and just redressed. He then went to take Hongsam for a walk. Hongsam was Shin Yuna’s dog. The room he was just having sex with was the guest bedroom of Yuna’s apartment, which they rented while performing here in Jeju.

Minho too was visiting Jeju, but he was there for work and was staying at a hotel room that his employer was paying for. He was happy that his trip lined up with ITZY performing so he could see his friend perform on stage.

Though it appears as though Yeji might have had some other ideas for the trip as well. The two went to lunch together, and then she invited him back to Yuna’s place to hang out before the show. And from there, things quickly progressed into them having two rounds of sex on the guest bed.

After about thirty minutes, Minho took Hongsam back to the apartment and gave him a treat for doing his business. As Yeji got dressed, he took a quick shower to wash the sex scent off himself. Once they were both dressed, they got a quick bite to eat since they were planning on having a very late dinner with Yuna after the show.

Yuna had left them tickets and they were in their seats with five minutes to spare before the curtain opened. ITZY was great on stage, though Minho could not help but notice how good Yuna looked. Dressed in black with her legs exposed in black tights. He was still a little turned on from being with Yeji that afternoon and watching Yuna was not subduing those feelings.

Yeji notices after they’ve finished their performance. She saw how focused Minho was on the stage, and it was after the intermission that she thought she noticed a lump in his pants.

“I can’t believe you had an erection,” she laughed.

“Quiet,” he tried to hush her.

“Was that just from watching us, or were you thinking about something else?”

“Hoping I was thinking about this afternoon?” he quipped while waving at Yuna as she came out the door. She waved back but had to sign some fan autographs and take selfies before she could go with them.

“Want me to stand in front of you? Hide any boners you might get.” Yeji said.

“Is that the reason you want to stand in front of me? In case I get an erection, I’ll have someplace to hide it.”

Her teasing him had somehow morphed into some high-level flirting. As Yuna got closer, bringing more people closer to them, they quit talking. Though even when they went to go have dinner with Yuna, Yeji dropped a number of euphemisms and double-entendres during their meal. She told Yuna that they had Minho’s “full attention” throughout their performance. Minho was not entertained by this, but he did his best not to show it and have Yuna catch on.

After they eat, they all went back to Yuna’s apartment. Yuna went right to her room to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt, and then she took Hongsam outside for a quick walk. Minho thought it was time for him to leave, but Yuna told him to stay and they could hang out for a bit when she got back. Once she was out of the apartment, Minho turned to Yeji and snapped at her “What the hell was all that?”

“All what?” she played coy,

“All that stuff at dinner. All the erection innuendos.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Minho paused and thought a moment. “You know, I thought you were just making fun of me, but now I’m thinking that you’re jealous that I might have gotten hard looking at Yuna.”

“There was no might about it,” she snidely replied.

“See I knew it.”

“Look, Minho, I’m sorry you had a HARD time at dinner, but you’re crazy if you think I was jealous of anything.”

“I’ll show you a hard time,” Minho snapped back and lowered the fly on his jeans. Yeji excitedly bit her lip as she saw him reaching into his pants…

When Yuna got back to her apartment, she heard some strange sounds and noticed that neither of her friends were anywhere in sight. She took off Hongsam’s leash and gave him a treat before she went to investigate. She followed the sound to the hallway and before she rounded the corner she heard a loud moan from a woman. Turning the corner, she found her friends in the hall.

“What’s going on here!” Yuna exclaimed. “I can’t believe you two.” Of course, it was extremely obvious what was happening. Yeji was braced against the wall in the hallway with her pants down just above her knees, and Minho was right behind her with his pants below his ass, and his cock pumping in and out of Yeji.

“Oh God, this isn’t…ummm…” Yeji tried to think of something to say.

“This is exactly what it looks like,” Minho said and then withdrew his cock. Exposing his condom-wrapped hard cock to Yuna, with it glistening in the hallway light from her friend’s pussy juices.

“Wow, she was pretty wet, huh?” Yuna said as she looked at his cock and took a few steps forward.

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed.

“Let me ask, are you hard because of her, or because you are still thinking about me on stage?” Yuna asked, and Yeji laughed. Minho’s head quickly snapped and looked at Yeji.

“You told her? When?” He wanted to know.

“I texted her about it as soon as the show was over.”

“So the whole time you were making subtle jokes during dinner?” he asked Yeji.

“I knew what she was doing,” Yuna answered.

“Don’t worry, I found it flattering.”

Yuna then grabbed hold of his cock. “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom,” she suggested.

The three of them quickly moved into the guest room.

Yuna had Minho sit on the edge of the bed and she dropped down to her knees. She yanked off the condom and began sucking his cock. While Yuna hungrily sucked his dick, Yeji stood nearby and began stripping out of her clothes. Once naked she got onto the bed with him. She and Minho began kissing, and he reached out and began fingering her. Yeji moaned into his mouth when she felt him slide a second finger into her. Yeji eventually reached down for his cock that Yuna was still sucking on. Yeji’s hand replaced Yuna’s on his shaft and she began stroking him while Yuna’s lips and tongue focused on the tip. Eventually, it was all too much for Minho. He could no longer even concentrate on trying to kiss Yeji, he was just lost in the feeling of pleasure he was getting on his dick.

“So how is she?” Yeji asked.

“Soooo good.”

“Is she better at it than me?”

“No chance I am answering that,” he said smartly.

“And you really don’t want to play that game,” Yuna teased Yeji before going back to giving him a blow job.

“Well, you do look good with a dick in your mouth,” Yeji teased her back. Yuna responded by flipping her off.

“She is right, you do,” he told her honestly.

“Yuna, I’m going to…”

“Then do it already,” she told him. Like with Yeji, Minho and Yuna had hooked up dozens of times after that summer in Busan. Also, just like Yeji, Yuna was currently dating a guy that Minho disliked. While Minho never got along well with Yeji’s boyfriend, it was Yuna’s that he really didn’t much care for. He could not understand how they ever got together or why they are still together.

Normally he could feel Yuna swallowing as he came into her mouth, this time he could not. He found out the reason for that after he finished cumming. Yuna dragged her lips off his cock with a pop before opening her lips to show him all the jizz she’d collected in her mouth. Yuna then got up off the floor and moved to Yeji. She grabbed her by the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. Minho watched as the two pretty idol kissed, and saw Yuna push some of his cum from her mouth to Yeji’s, with some trickled down the sides of both of their lips as they kissed and snowballed his cum.

Even after they had swallowed all of the cum, they continued to kiss. Yuna was the aggressor, and Yeji fell backward to the point that Yeji fell backward.

Yuna did not allow Yeji to escape and crawled onto the bed, so her knees were right on the edge with her feet hanging off of it, and her hand propped her up as she leaned over Her teammate before bending back down to kiss her some more.

Minho, just like any other guy in his position, could not help but get aroused by the sight next to him. If his dick deflated at all after the blow job, it was now back to full mass. He took off his shirt and kicked off his pants and boxers, which had pooled around his ankles as Yuna began to suck his cock again.

With Minho and Yeji now naked, there was only one person in the room who was still wearing clothes. Yuna except for having no shoes, was still dressed as she was when she took her dog out for a walk. That did not last long. Minho got off the bed, positioned himself behind Yuna and yanked down her sweatpants. She had a pair of white panties that were soaking. He could clearly see how wet they were.

He put his hands on Yuna’s ass and bent down to look at her flawless backside. Her smooth-shaven pussy was literally dripping wet as he ran his tongue along her slit, licking up all her excess juices. Yuna sat up and moaned as she felt his tongue. She then turned around to face him when she felt his tongue pull away.

“Don’t tease me…” she pleaded.

“Trust me, I’m not,” he told her and then slid his hard cock inside of her. She was so wet that despite being crazy tight, he had no issue sliding his dick into her. Yuna moaned and smiled back at Minho, who began to fuck her from behind.

“God I missed this,” he told her. “You feel so good… so tight.”

“Nnhhh yesss,” she said with pride about how tight she was.

“Ahhh, I’ve missed this too,” Yuna told him as he slowly began working his dick in and out of her.

Despite Yuna laying on top of her, Yeji was feeling left out of the action. She reached up and gave Yuna’s hard brown reddish nipples a tweak. Yuna let out a bit of a yelp when she felt her nipples suddenly being played with.

“Oh, oh, wow, already, ugghhh,” Yuna moaned. It had only been a few minutes, but Yuna was so aroused even before Minho had his cock in her that it didn’t take long for her to reach the point of near orgasm. She grunted as her pussy gushed as she came, dripping down onto the bed she soaked the bedsheets beneath her. Minho pulled out of her and Yuna rolled over onto her back.

“That was a good one,” she said, sounding satisfied.

“You know, I was on the verge of something close to that before you interrupted us earlier,” Yeji said, reminding the other two that she two was still on the bed.

“I can help you out with that,” Minho replied.

“You, better,” she told him. She had him lie down on the bed and was quick to get on top of him. She was quick to sink down on his dick and began riding him. While she was on top of him, Yuna slid next to him.

“Doesn’t she have the cutest nipples,” Yuna whispered to Minho as she watched her friend methodically grind on her snatch on top of him.

“Yeah, she does,” he agreed, as he reached up and cupped her tit and ran his thumb back and forth over her small nipple. Yeji moaned as she felt her tits being played with. Minho groaned as Yuna kissed the side of his neck. Having one idol ride him while the other kissed and rubbed his chest made him even more excited. He then grabbed Yeji’s hips and started thrusting his cock up into her. Yeji’s moans were getting louder as he fucked her hard and fast. After a few minutes, he flipped her over. Once again Yeji was on her back with Minho between her legs. She raised her legs and spread them wide as he pushed back into her. Just like the afternoon, Minho and Yeji were doing it missionary. However this time, Yuna was right there with them.

After stripping off her shirt and removing her pants completely, Yuna went back and forth kissing both of them. Now with Yeji on her back, Yuna’s hands roamed over her friend’s chest, playing with her tits. Looking over at Yuna, Minho could not help himself from reaching over and pushing two fingers into her tight cunt. He fingered her for a minute before pulling his fingers out and sucking them clean. Minho remembers the first time he ever went down on Yuna, and he couldn’t believe how good she tasted and still tastes just as good now as she did then. He then pushed his fingers right back into her, which caused Yuna to moan right into Yeji’s mouth as they made out.

After several more minutes, Yeji got the orgasm she desired, but Minho still continued to pound her pussy. He thought about pulling out and driving back into Yuna, but she whispered something in his ear that made him change his mind.

“Are you close,” Yuna asked between neck kisses she was giving Minho.

“Kind of,” he grunted.

Yuna then moved right up beside his ear, “Cum in her,” she whispered, giving him a devilish smile. Unlike Yuna, Yeji almost always made Minho use a condom when they hooked up. He was so caught up in the moment that when he switched between the two women, he didn’t think about a condom. Now that he had noticed it, he was becoming increasingly aware of how her pussy felt around his cock. He then began fucking her faster, harder.

“Ohh ahnn, fuck!” Yeji called out in response to him taking things up a notch.

“That’s it, Minho,” Yuna encouraged. “Fuck her good, and fill her.”

“Fill me?” Yeji asked. “Wait, condom.” You’re not wearing a condom?

“No,” He informed her.

“Ahh…shit…” she said.

“Just let it happen. You know you want it,” Yuna advised Yeji. She thought for a moment, as Minho continued to rail her.

“Fuck it…” she gave in.

“Slut,” Yuna giggled at her.

Minho’s response was to grab Yeji’s legs from out on the side and move her legs up over her head. He continued fucking her hard as he had her folded in half.

Yuna repositioned herself behind Minho as she watched her friends fuck. She encouraged him.

“Stop holding back and do it, she wants it, breed her.”

He could feel her tits pressing into his back, her hands moving around his body, and her lips working on his neck and shoulder between whispering into his ear.

He looked down at Yeji’s face as he thrust into her. He could feel the build-up rising in his balls, and the look on her face said that she was closing in on another orgasm as well.

“I- I’m gonna cum,” he announced, giving Yeji one last chance to back out. She just gave him a simple acknowledgment nod as she moaned. He gave three more pumps before burying his cock deep inside her.

“Oh god, Minho,” Yeji moaned as she felt the steady stream of cum filling her unprotected womb.

When he did finally stop and did pull out, Yuna was right there to polish his dick clean of the mix of his and Yeji’s cum. Though Yuna did have ulterior motives as well. Even after she had given his cock a spit shine, she still kept blowing him for a bit longer, not giving his dick any chance to go down at all. Once she felt his cock twitching in her mouth, she knew he was ready to go.

She had Yeji move up on the bed and then she laid down herself between Yeji’s legs. Yuna then went to town on her friend’s well fucked pussy, freshly full and leaking with cum.

Yuna then lay on her stomach in front of him. He knew she loved to do it prone, and he had an open opportunity to do that, but he was going to put that on hold for a minute. He had already creampied Hwang Yeji; there was no way he was not going to do it to Shin Yuna as well, but first, he was going to eat that pussy.

Minho got down low and spread Yuna's legs. Feeling him move her, she gave up little resistance and allowed him to move her body as he pleased. With her legs now open, he then spread Yuna's ass with his hands, allowing him deep into her while burying his tongue.

For the next several minutes, the three of them were laying in a straight line. Minho laying on his stomach eating Yuna out, who was laying on her stomach eating out Yeji, who was on her back. Yeji was the first to cum, as she cried out while grabbing onto the bedding which between sweat and cum was becoming wetter and wetter.

Before Yuna could have one of her own, Minho pulled away from her. She let out a disappointing groan. That groan was soon replaced by a sudden squeal from the petite idol as she felt Minho wedge his cock into her cunt. Yuna was still eating her friend even after Yeji orgasmed, However, she soon became too distracted to continue. She almost had an orgasm from his tongue as he took her prone on the bed.

“Yes, Minho, keep going,” Yuna moaned.

She was now holding onto the bed tightly. She was so close that she began rocking her body back into him. It was only a matter of time, Minho could feel the buildup happening, and then suddenly she popped. Yuna cried out and once again she drenched the bed below her as her body twitched in orgasm bliss. Minho pulled out as soon as he felt her cumming. God knows he loved that feeling from her, but he loved it a little too much and was not ready to be done with her.

While Yuna was cumming, and then coming down from her high, Yeji moved in and she repeated what Yuna had done and sucked his cock clean of the other’s juiced. Once she had sucked him clean, both Minho and Yuna were ready to take things to the next step.

Neither were usually much for reverse cowgirl, but there was a full-length mirror across from the bed and on the far wall. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Yuna on top of him. She sat right on his cock and began to bounce on it. The two of them are looking at each other in the mirror. She has a bright smile on her face and her perky tits are shaking as she bounces up and down on his dick. For the first two minutes or so, Minho is just happy to observe Yuna. Putting aside the sensation of her tight pussy gripping his dick as it moved up and down the shaft, seeing a naked Yuna bouncing like this made him feel extremely lucky.

Eventually, he did get into the action, brushing her hair over to one side, and then moving his hands around her body. One hand when north to cup her breast and the other traveled south between her legs. As she had done to, him, he began kissing the side of her neck as he rubbed her clit and tweaked her nipple.

“You know this was what I was thinking about when you were on stage, right?” he said into her ear. “As good as you looked on stage, I couldn't stop thinking about your sexy body and how you'd look doing all that without anything on.”

“That’s why you got hard?”

“Um-hm,” he said as he kissed her neck. “And then my mind went to how much missed the feeling of cumming inside your tight pussy.”

“Maybe you should stop thinking about it and do it already,”

“You want that?” He asked her.

“You know I do,” she moaned. Minho had her spin around. She was now sitting on his lap, facing him, with her legs wrapped around his back. With their faces just inches apart now, they began making out as they fucked. Yuna rolled her hips while on top of him. He did not give her any warning before cumming. He just moaned into her mouth as they kissed and let it go. Exploding his load into her. When she felt him cumming, she moaned right back to him and her nails dug into his shoulder. Even as he was cumming she continued to move her hips until she got off once again as well. After they finished, they moved back and laid on the bed next to Yeji, who had been fingering herself while watching her friends fuck .

The three of them all lay in a pile in the guest bed for a few minutes, catching their breaths and coming down from the sexual high. Yuna suggested that if they were going to go to sleep, they should all go to her bedroom. She didn’t say why, but they all knew the why. Between sweat, cum, and vaginal fluids, the sheets on the guest bed were at a minimum moist, and in spots were just flat-out soaked. So they got out of the guest bed and headed to the master bedroom, but before getting back into bed it was suggested that they should all take a quick shower first.

While they washed the sex off of each other, there was a significant amount of bumping, grinding, and touching as they shared the shower. Some of it was unintentional, some of it not so much. The bumping increased as Minho’s shaft swelled to its full size. Yeji and Yuna enjoyed teasing him.

Although the teasing from the two pretty idols was becoming a little too much for him. He finally snapped when Yeji dropped the loofa and bent down with her straight legs and her ass pointed right at him as she went to pick it up. He couldn’t help himself and quickly moved right up behind her and thrust half his cock into her.

“Ahh! Fuck!” Yeji yelped in surprise.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he told her as he pushed the rest of his cock inside of her. She said nothing, so he began fucking her. Yeji raised back up a bit and put her arms out to brace herself against the shower wall. Yuna was not going to be left out of the action. She moved to the side of both Yeji and Minho. With one hand she pulled his face down to kiss her, and with her other hand, she moved it between Yeji’s legs and teased her clit.

“Oh god, seriously Yuna?” Yeji moaned and questioned her friend as she felt her love button being played with. Not to leave her out, Minho moved a hand between Yuna’s legs and fingered her while the two of them made out as he fucked Yeji. With the two of them working on her, Yeji did not last long. She let out a moan and her leg buckled as she came. Minho grabbed her around her waist to make sure she did not fall.

Once she was steady on her feet, Minho pulled out of her and turned to Yuna. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and leapt up. Minho grabbed her body and quickly had his cock completely embedded in her. As they fucked, Yeji gave herself another long rinse under the shower spray before leaving the stall.

“You two have fun,” she said then gave him a long loving kiss. “Thanks for today,” she told him before stepping out of the shower and wrapping herself in a towel.

Meanwhile, Yuna and Minho were lost in their own lust-filled world, aggressively fucking against the glass of the shower stall. Yuna had her back against the glass with hands holding onto the top of the shower above, and her legs over his shoulder. The two were going at it, until Minho tried to readjust his stance and almost slipped on the shower floor, nearly bringing them both tumbling to the floor.

After that, they briefly stopped what they were doing, turned off the water, and exited the shower. They did not move far as they set up right on the large bathroom countertop. Yuna stood in front of the counter and bent down at the waist, pushing her ass back against him. He quickly got behind her and lifted her leg onto the counter before sliding his manhood straight back into pristine her pussy. As they fucking on the counter they maintained eye contact nearly the entire time through the mirror.

“God, Yuna. You feel so fucking tight” he groaned.

“Ehm-mm, anhhh, fuck…”

“I can't hold out for much longer.”

“Cum inside me...pleaseee, Anhhh…”

“Turn around!” he said.

Yuna had barely gotten her foot on the floor when Minho grabbed her hips, spun her around, and lifted her onto the counter. He quickly inserted his cock back into her. After two more pumps, Yuna expressed her desire for him to unload inside of her.

“Now Minho, do it now!” She demanded him and his cock busted, and that feeling got Yuna to hit her climax as well. They both came hard. He moved in to kiss her, and they exchanged a series of kisses, as euphoria from their orgasms died down. They cleaned up a bit and went into the bedroom and saw Yeji sleeping in the bed. Minho had to work the next morning and debated heading to his hotel at that point in the night.

Yuna asked him to stay and when he was still on the fence, she promised him a morning blowjob before he left. That made his decision an easy one. He set his alarm for a few hours and got into bed with his two idols friends. Yuna slept on her side in the middle of the bed facing Yeji, while Minho slept on the other side spooning Yuna.

Yuna kept her word and gave him a blowjob when his alarm went off the following morning. Minho got a great start to the day before heading to his hotel room for a quick shower and change of clothes before heading out to work.

—

Yuna called him later that night.

“Hey, do you mind coming over on Friday and taking Hongsam for a walk after you’re done with work? I can leave a key for you at the front desk.”

“On Friday? Yuna you know that’s my last night here. I was planning on going out with people after work.”

“I know, but I thought you could help me out and then we can do something after the show.”

“So you want me to take your dog out and then just hang out at your place alone for a few hours?”

“Yes, but I would put it as more as, I was hoping you’d be waiting in my bed… preferably with your pants on the floor.”

[phoenixkaptain]

I love it when pre Original Trilogy era shows how much effort went into making the Death Star. It took decades, literal decades, and it took so much money and so many people and it was such a secretive thing and it’s staffed by millions because it’s the size of a small moon.

I cannot express how much all of the added information makes it so much funnier that Luke blew it up.

Luke destroys literally everything Palpatine built. He blows up the Death Star, which was referenced in universe as early as the second movie. He blew up the weapon of mass destruction twenty years in the making. And he blew it up pretty much directly after it’s first and only successful attack. It was operational for fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes that Palpatine had the thing he’d been building for longer than Luke has been alive, and Luke blows it up. First day retirement, but first hour retirement.

Luke convinces Darth Vader to turn back to the light side, a feat thought literally impossible by literally everybody. Sidious clearly doesn’t see Vader’s betrayal coming. Vader’s betrayal was not in his plans, nor was it something he was prepared for. Sidious is a powerful Force user with all four limbs while Vader is a man in the tin can Palpatine put him in. If Palpatine had seen Vader turning coming, he would not have allowed it to happen.

Luke literally should not even be alive. Palpatine almost definitely got Padme out of the way on purpose, and he almost certainly was trying for her unborn child as well (there was way too big of a risk that a cute liddol bebe would bring some humanity back to Anakin, and Palpatine did not want Anakin to have any humanity) Luke living is literally the first step in Palpatine’s ultimate downfall, especially once Vader finds out that Luke is his son. His very alive son. His son that is not dead, despite Palpatine claiming Anakin killed Padme. Implying that Anakin killed Padme and she posthumously gave birth. But, she didn’t give birth on Mustafar, which was the last place Anakin interacted with her. And once the mother dies, you have to get those fuckers out fast or they die too.

I imagine Darth Vader piecing all of this together is that meme with all the math floating around his head, because how could Padme have died by his hand and then given birth like two hours later?

Luke killing Palpatine is what ultimately leads to the dissolution of the Empire as an omnipotent entity. Luke killed the Empire. Luke spends a good amount of his adult life killing Empire remnants. We see that in the Mandalorian, since he’s so recognizable that Gideon immediately knows he’s fucked just by seeing an X-wing. We read it in Legends’ continuity, where Luke terrifies Imperials because he can walk into their changing room and stand in their for a minute and they don’t even notice.

Luke destroyed Palpatine’s life’s work. Everything Palpatine spent his whole life working towards, and Luke kills all of it. He blows up not one, but two Death Stars (he may not have pulled the trigger on the second Death Star, but without him, it never would have been destroyed). He convinces not one, but multiple Sith and Dark Jedi to return from the Dark Side. He is the only reason that Obi-Wan Kenobi, the biggest pain in Palpatine’s ass ever born, lives long enough to make it to the Death Star.

Palpatine went through so much effort. And just when he had finally won, when he finally had a weapon capable of destroying entire planets with a single blast, making it impossible for any planets or peoples to go against him, Luke shows up nineteen years late to the Jedi party with space Starbucks and a droid twice his age and almost singlehandedly destroys everything Palpatine ever had a hand in creating.

Luke manages to become even worse than Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ultimate thorn in the side of politicians, and Luke doesn’t even understand any politics. He wasn’t trained in diplomacy like Obi-Wan and Leia, no, he’s a farmboy who left home for the first time in his entire life, just this morning. And he is the one to destroy the Empire.

If they rewrote Star Wars and had it entirely from Palpatine’s perspective, Luke Skywalker would be his greatest foe. Luke Skywalker would be the final boss. Luke Skywalker is the antithesis of everything Palpatine believes in and he is the one character that Palpatine cannot predict. He isn’t as moldable as Anakin, he doesn’t respond to threats very well, he’s apparently impossible to kill via Force lightning (still the funniest scene of all times, the progression of Palpatine’s face falling and him looking like “what the fuck??? Is this kid rubber??? I’ve electrocuted him eight times???”), his unwavering faith in his father’s goodness makes Darth Vader want to be a better person, Luke Skywalker is the big bad of Palpatine’s story and—

There is nothing in this world that is funnier than someone’s biggest antagonist being Luke fucking Skywalker. Luke Skywalker, who saved the galaxy with the power of love and who shouldn’t exist, by Jedi rules and by Palpatine’s own attempts, and whose best friends are literally droids, which Palpatine canonically hates!

Everything about this is hilarious, this is the funniest thing in all of media, Palpatine loses absolutely everything to some backwater farmboy who fucking likes droids.

[pollyanna-nana]

One of the most tragic and compelling aspects of Dunmeshi, to me, is that we’ll probably never know (unless Kui tells us lol) how Delgal actually felt about Thistle. I’ve seen people say that he genuinely cared for him as a brother and his journey to the surface was to save him from his madness as much as it was his people. I’ve seen people say that he saw Thistle as nothing more than a fancy accessory or tool that ended up going astray. Others I’ve seen (and personally agree with) say that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. But honestly, I think any one of these interpretations has the potential to be correct… and that’s just heartbreaking.

After all, Delgal is dead. Like, dead-dead. The very first chapter of the manga starts with his spirit leaving this mortal coil, taking that answer with him. And…

How he talks about Thistle here… it’s interesting. He does not ask for him to be talked down, or captured or imprisoned, but instead “defeated”. Which Mithrun interprets as asking for his death… which is reasonable, because that’s likely how the vast majority of adventurers interpreted his words, too. Obviously as he was crumbling to dust he probably didn’t have the capacity to be particularly verbose or explain the complex backstory to how the kingdom ended up this way, but the effect is the same no matter how he may have felt with it. He asked for Thistle to be killed.

But… even in situations where he wasn’t under any such time limit to explain what was going on, he still seemed not to. Most glaringly:

Yaad seemingly has no idea that it was Delgal’s fault that Thistle sought the demon’s power. Obviously he couldn’t talk to him about it because Thistle was, uh, a little out there by that point, but why didn’t Delgal explain? Was he embarrassed? Mournful? Couldn’t find the words?

Delgal was scared of dying. He wanted prosperity at any cost, and how could Thistle possibly refuse? Did he even realize that what he was the one who pushed his own brother— One who basically helped raise him despite being a child himself, and in many ways is still a child— down this path? Or was it like watching an overzealous employee misinterpret directions?

The way Yaad describes things here makes it sound like Thistle simply dug too deep in his studies and fell into madness, but we know that’s not true. Delgal didn’t “suggest” he learn magic, he wanted a mage who could help himself and his people defy death, which he admits to Thistle openly:

So, why? Why not tell his grandson, at least, the truth of the matter? Did he worry it might make the remaining residents more likely to upset Thistle, and therefore suffer the consequences? Did he just not care? For what it’s worth though, Yaad does suspect the truth from Delgal’s behavior.

He “always blamed himself” for his descent into the dark arts. This is just Yaad’s observation, and that’s without knowing that it was quite literally Delgal’s fault Thistle went down this path. So, why? Why was it all kept a secret?

Of course, this made things ripe for the winged lion to manipulate to its advantage. Clearly despite knowing he’d pushed him into using it, Delgal still thought the lion was a force of good that was misused by Thistle as a result of his madness. His face in that last panel is particularly haunting. He looks terrible, gaunt and pale with overgrown hair and missing teeth. Had he gone mad, with grief and sorrow, as well?

Could he no longer see Thistle the way he did when they were younger? No one can ask him, because he died long before the story even began.

To go back to the original question, well, how did Delgal see Thistle? None of the previous points make a definitive answer any clearer, and I think that’s just brilliant. And so, so tragic.

[tobyfier]

Can you do a doppelgänger M!reader? Reader is a doppelgänger who manages to move into the apartment complex and readers original plan was to k!ll everyone the moment he was let in but the moment he’s allowed in he sees Francis just trying to get to his apartment and reader becomes immediately infatuated with him, he then has a change of plans. His new plan is to get Francis’s attention anyway possible.

This can be smut or not doesn’t matter you do whatever you want with this, this just came off the top of my head and I just need more milkman fics 😿😿

I’m inlove with a monster.

;Male reader

Genre: Fluff to smut

Warning: NSFW AT THE END!!! Bottom reader,Handjobs(receiving),creampie,make out session,overstimulation

A/n: Technically this isn’t my first time writing smut..however it has been a while since I wrote one, I’m just hoping it won’t look too cringy; as for the minors..I can’t exactly stop you from reading this, you guys are just growing people who’s going through puberty, I’ve been through that before. Now I will discourage minors who are BELOW 13 years old.

This doorman is taking a bit longer than usual to be honest. They seem to be double checking everything, did they figure it out or something? My heart stopped when I saw them reach for the phone ‘Fuck, I didn’t think of that.’ I didn’t break out of character just yet, there’s a possibility that the real one isn’t home. They waited and waited until they put the phone down. They stared at me for a while, cold sweat started to run down my neck before they smiled and pressed a button

“Alright, looks like you’re good to go!” I sighed from relief and nodded at them before going inside the building, I grinned to how naive the doorman is because of their mistake, they put everyone’s lives at risk, oh I can’t wait-…whoa..

3rd POV

M/n honestly felt like the world stopped moving when he say a guy infront of him struggling to open his door, he didn’t know who that guy or what his name is but all he knows is that he’s pretty charming. Once the man shut his door only then M/n snapped out of his trance, a slight blush covering his face. Trying to figure out what the hell just happened to him, it all felt so new to him and so unfamiliar. But nonetheless he didn’t dislike the feeling, he wanted more in fact..

‘New purpose, I’m gonna try and get as close with that mine and find out what this feeling is.’ M/n thought before going downstairs to ask for a spare key because he doesn’t have a key to his new house

Every single day M/n would try and greet Francis, to try and strike a conversation with him.

“Hey Francis, buddy ol pal, how you doing?” M/n greeted him, trying to act as normal and formal as possible but failing to do so.

“I’m doing fine, how about you mr. Moo juice?” Francis responded smiling a bit at the nickname he gave for M/n.

“It was one time!” M/n’s face burned from embarrassment, as a way to talk to Francis he tried ordering some milk from him when he stumbled on his words, calling milk ‘Moo juice’ by mistake.

“Well I’m sorry but it’s pretty much I possible for me to get that memory out of my head, it’s too funny!” Francis giggled, M/n could listen to him giggle every single day and will not get tired of hearing it

“Well-I still remember the time when you accidentally barged into my apartment thinking it was yours because you were drunk!” Now it was Francis turn to get embarrassed

“Well you can’t exactly blame a drunk man for it, I would barely comprehend what happened then!” Francis laughed before putting on his hat “I’d love to chat with you more but I still have to go to work. I’ll talk to you later, see you!” He greeted him goodbye and went down the hall to the elevator

2nd POV

You sighed, already missing his presence greatly. During the past few months you grew to be comfortable living in the apartments, forming friendship with the other neighbors most especially Francis, obviously. After some time you learned that the original you was actually a writer..a bit boring but you tried writing a few times and slowly you grew to like it.

Sometimes you wondered whether the original you and Francis ever talked to eachother, but from how shy and quiet he was during the first few conversations maybe not as close. Every single conversation,exchange of greetings,waves,or any interaction with him, you cherished every single one of them. With a help of a neighbor whom you call a friend named Mia, told you that it might be a crush or infatuation. And although it’s not really viewed as a good thing to date the same gender in public, you could care less about what other people think. You only cared about Francis view on it, I mean he has an ex wife and literally has a child. It’s impossible for him to like you back..

Atleast that’s what you hoped, you hoped this time you were wrong.

Timeskip

Francis’ POV

I sighed at the tiring day, driving house to house and city to city was really tiring. All I wanted was to go back to my apartment and rest..if not maybe chat with M/n again. He’s a really nice and fun person to be with, his energy was never really overwhelming and he’s the perfect person to talk to whenever I’m tired but also want someone to talk to. His stories are so interesting to listen to, especially the forbidden love ones.

If I had to be honest, I never thought him and I were gonna get close. After the “moo juice” incident, we started talking more. I hope I get to talk to him soon, for now I have to focus on delivering this milk trays. I looked back to see how much I have to deliver and saw that there was still a lot, he sighed “This is gonna take a while..”

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I groaned, finally done delivering the milk and stumbled upon the elevator, pressing the 3rd button and waiting for it to close. I took off my hat and started fanning myself, hoping it will cool me off from the tiring job. I sighed in relief once I heard the elevator ring and walked out of the elevator to M/n’s apartment, knocking a few times before waiting.

M/n’s POV

I yawned tiredly, I just woke up from a nap because someone knocked on the door. Being a different species has it’s perks, one being having heightened hearing. I opened the door not caring if it was a Doppel or not, if it was then I could handle it anyway, I’m one myself..what I didn’t expect was a tired milkman collapsing on me like a drunken man.

“Bloody hell-you scared me!” I wrapped my arm on his torso and carried him to my couch, I tried walking away to get something when he suddenly pulled me into the couch, trapping me below him “Uhm..Francis buddy, let me go. I’m gonna get some pillows for you.”

“No..stay here, I’ll just use you as my pillow..” he mumbled, hugging me tighter. It’s adorable seeing him in such state, it reminded me of the time he got drunk

“You’re Lucky You’re adorable..” i mumbled suddenly, not even thinking of my words, I slapped my hand over my mouth. Francis tensed and looked at me

“You find me adorable?” He asked, he doesn’t sound disgusted nor angry, actually he sounds shock and intrigue

“Uh yeah, I do actually..” What the fuck am I saying, he might think I’m weird now!

“..I’m glad you think of me that way too..” he said before laying his head on my chest..wait what.

“Hold on what-you cant just say that so suddenly!” I said sitting up straight so he won’t fall asleep on me

“Why not? You said it first.” He replied, my face burned from embarrassment

“I mean yeah but I didn’t expect you to think I’m cute..” I said blushing a bit

“Why not? I mean sometimes you act like a dog, obedient and gets excited when it comes to certain things. Especially when you’re talking about your new story. Everything about you is cute.” He said, not minding the effects of what his words did to me, bastard even smirked.

“Stop it, you’re saying things out of the blue!” I yelled, hiding my face from him, but my heart stopped when I heard what he said next

“Not to mention when you’re so tired, you don’t notice the little horns sticking out of your head.” I stopped for a moment and slowly looked at him, does he..I quickly grabbed his wrists and pinned him in the couch

“When did you know about me.” I asked sternly, although I liked him, I didn’t wanna go back to the d.d.d’s. No, i already had a good life and I won’t let it go away.

“The first week after we talked.” How is he so calm about this? I mean a doppelgänger pinning him to the couch, potentially getting eaten? “I already know you won’t hurt nor eat me, you love me too much for you to do that.”

“Well I uh..true..” I replied, loosening my grip on his wrists, in return he slipped his hand out and slowly he sat up

“See, I knew you love me..” he said soothingly while rubbing my head, like a dog..I sighed

“You didn’t even tell me?..” I asked, I’m a bit suprised how he’s handling this situation so calmly

“I always rub your head like this and it just goes away.” He said before pulling his hand back “see? It’s gone.”

“IT WAS THERE AGAIN?!” I yelled, he chuckled

“So uh..what are we now?..” he asked, I tilted my head in confusion

“Are we-I mean can you-do you wanna be together?..” he asked in a low voice, I was silent for a moment before quickly hugging him

“You don’t know how happy I am for you to tell that you actually like me back, even after knowing I’m not even the original M/n..” I hugged him tighter, I felt his arms wrap around my lower back and buried his face on my hair

“If I had to be honest, I prefer you over the original..and don’t think I haven’t noticed you.” He said giggling a bit, I was confused on what he meant by that “I can always see glancing at me from a far,from how your mood drastically changes depending if I’m in the room or not,and don’t get me started with those lovable dork eyes of yours with the mention of my name. And Mia ratted you out.”

“She what?!” I yelled, I groaned loudly and slapped a hand on my face, I means it’s expected..this is Mia we’re talking about, she literally told me all of the gossip when we first talked..

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, I looked at him with wide eyes, is it just me or is he getting bolder? “So is that a no-“

“Yes!” I quickly answered before shutting my mouth, it sounded like I was desperate or something, he seemed to like it by the way he chuckled

Before I knew, our lips smashed with each other, the kiss felt nice..it was comforting and tender, and filled with love. Something I wanted to experience everyday, and I’ll be sure to make that happen. Unfortunately he pulled away, I leaned forward unconsciously and he laughed through his nose.

“It seems you liked it it by how you leaned for more.” He laughed a bit, I could only stare at him with adoration, yeah I could definitely get used to this..

I quickly pulled him into another one to which he reciprocated quickly, the kiss was much more intense than before. I opened my mouth a little to get some air when he suddenly pushed his tongue inside my mouth, to which I choked at the sudden sensation but I welcomed it nonetheless. Looks can be deceiving, he’s the right person to use for it, at first he way seem like a tired and inexperienced person but boy..when I tell you he’s good..

Soon he pulled away so we can catch our breaths, a string of saliva connected our mouths as we planted from the session we had. My face was red considering it was my first time doing that, I was a bit surprised how well and experienced he is actually.

“Do you still wanna go further?” He asked, either way he already knows I’m gonna say yes due to the tent in my pants anyway

“Y-yeah sure.” I stuttered, he seems to be looking at my pants

“Just wanted to ask, since you’re a doppelgänger and you can alternate yourself, I’m just wondering if there’s a possibility you can alternate down there?” He asked, ah so that’s why

“Yeah, why? Do you want me to change it?” I asked but he shook his head as a no

“No, I want something to play with while doing it.” I raised an eyebrow at his statement

“..what?..”

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“O-oh shit-!” I gasped when his pace became faster, currently we were in my bedroom giving me a handjob, he had an iron grip on my leg so I couldn’t crawl away “Hah ah-I shouldn’t..have ah!-asked..” I managed to speak

He just chuckled at my disheveled appearance, my hair was a mess. Sticking to my forehead, some got tangled by how much I turned my head side to side to ignore the feeling. My clothes are long gone, all thrown to the floor thanks to Mr. Milkman. Francis was shirtless and his hat was on my head, saying I looked cuter with it. This guy really likes seeing me like this doesn’t he?

“Please..” I muttered, I’m close and I’m sure he noticed it too by how my dick throb in his hand.

“Please what dearie? I can’t hear you.” He teased, smug bastard.

“Let m-me come mngh..please-I’m clo-HNGK..!” I choked on my spit once he gripped it and speed up the pace much faster than before, I tried to hold it in but the bastard was determined to make me release, and so I did. White streaks shot out from the tip, landing on his chest and to my stomach. I panted like a person who ran a marathon, but it felt great. It was something I’ve never really felt before..

I looked over at him to see him wipe some of the cum of his chest and to his mouth, I blushed at the act and immediately yelled at him

“Spit that out, it’s dirty!” He didn’t listen of course, fucker even snapped his tongue

“It’s sweet and salty..” he seemed a bit surprised, is it because of the salty part or sweet?

“Probably from all the milk you delivered to me..” I finally calmed down from my high but noticed that he was unbuckling his belt.

“H-hold on, you’re not finished I thought-hey!” I was a bit surprised when he listed my other leg and rested it on his shoulder, I grabbed a pillow to hold on to, something tells this one is gonna be different..

“You didn’t think I was finish were you?” His eyes met mine and instantly I felt small “I still haven’t had my problem solved yknow?”

Oh yeah he’s right, it would be a bit unfair to stop this when he hasn’t finished his yet. And so I hug my pillow, preparing for what’s about to happen. I dozed off a bit, obviously this is my first time and I have no experience with this kind of things, I just wondered how it was gonna feel whether it would lean more to pain or-

“Holy sh-mngh..!” I bite into the pillow when I felt my stretched up when he entered, it stinged, not in a way it was painful, it felt good..

He didn’t think so though because he immediately stopped and looked at me with concern “Sh-shit I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you..” he apologized, rubbing circles around my thighs

“It’s fine..it-..it felt good.” I admitted “Keep going..”

He blushed and nodded, slowly he pushed the rest of it in me, I muffled myself using the pillow. Holy shit did that feel nice, never really thought it would feel this good honestly.

“Can I move?” He asked softly, it’s cute how he still needs to ask

“Yes..” I replied

He indeed took that opportunity and pulled away, leaving the tip inside me before thrusting back. I choked out a moan, not expecting the sudden rough movement, not that I was complaining though it was kind of attractive.

The pace was fast and hard, the way he feels inside of me was something I could never explain in words. He was quite literally hitting all of the right place, like he studied my body and memorized all of the sensitive parts. The bed started creaking from how fast he was going but I could careless, all I could think about was him and him only. I was close again, the knot in my stomach was back. And as if he’s reading my thoughts his hand gripped my dick once more and started pumping it. His hand felt so nice against my dick, I could get used to this all day.

“F-fuck!..too ah-!m..much..” I moaned out, I didn’t even notice the tears that were rolling down my face atop the pillows. I could feel his thrust getting uneven “Please..!”

“You can k-keep it in, just a few more..” he panted, chasing his release, he slowed down his hand so I wouldn’t release so soon.

A few thrusts and soon he came inside of me, the feeling of being filled up plus his hand pumping my dick immediately put me to my climax. We both panted, riding out our high from the activity. He exhaled and collapsed his body on mine due to exhaustion.

“Oof bloody hell are you heavy.” I stated, he chuckled tickling my neck

“How was it?..” he asked after moving a little so I can breath, his arms were wrapped around my waist

“It’s scary how you know my body so well despite this being the first time you’re exploring it..” I admitted “You were great.”

“Glad to know..” he muttered, burrying his face onto my neck even more

Silence engulfed the room..

“How am I supposed to explain my neighbors about these bite marks and hickeys littered all around my neck. I swear you did this on purpose didn’t you.” I slapped his head weakly to which he laughed and hugged me tighter

“Yeah yeah, I’m sorry. But it’s not my fault you had a pretty neck, I couldn’t help it!” He stated

“Oh so that’s my fault?!” I laughed

Yeah I’m definitely gonna get used to this now..

[coco-cinnamon]

Better Than Me?

౨ৎ Warnings: cursing, drinking, Y/N being a bit of a player (I've never wrote Y/N doing that so lmao), sexual themes, degrading, smut, Rafe being an ass but, when is he not lol 18+ MDNI.

౨ৎ Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Female Kook Reader.

౨ৎ Summary: When Y/N is at a party, she messes with Rafe, pretending like she's tired of him and going to go to Topper for her new sex buddy but, Rafe makes sure she learns her lesson.

౨ৎ Word Count: 900+ words.

౨ৎ Author's Note: this was originally supposed to be a re-write of one of my old Topper fics but, it turned into a Rafe fic lmao. I'll post the old Topper fic soon.

©coco-cinnamon 2024, please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

Sipping your beer from a red solo cup, you surveyed the lively party. The pulsing music reverberated in your chest, as Rafe Cameron's parties always went all out. When one of your friends caught your eye and waved you over to the dance floor, you smiled back, ready to join her. But before you could make your way through the crowd, a hand suddenly gripped your arm.

Attempting to pull your arm away, you snap, "What the fuck?!" But it's no use - their grip is like iron around your arm. You whip yourself around to see who had grabbed you. Looking up, you're met with ocean blue eyes staring down into yours, hazy with lust. "What the fuck do you want, Rafe?" you ask, finally managing to yank your arm out of his grip. He just smirks at you, his eyes a mix of amusement and lust. "That isn't any way to greet the host, is it?"

You crossed your arms, your gaze piercing up at him. "Again, what the hell do you want?" you asked.

He smirked. "Well, I figured since you came to my party, we could head up to my bedroom. I'm sure we could do way more interesting things up there than you would be able to do over there with your friends."

You cocked a brow, considering his words. He watched you, his impatience growing evident on his face. With a sarcastic smile, you said, "Thanks, but no thanks," and began to turn away. Before you could fully turn around and walk off, he yanked you back to face him again. Rolling your eyes, you groaned, "what now?"

"I thought we had something good going on here." he said, tilting his head quizzically. "We did, at first." you replied with a small shrug. His jaw clenched slightly as he growled, "What do you mean 'at first'?" Maintaining a calm demeanor and a small smirk, you replied, "Exactly what I said. At first, we had a pretty sweet thing, but then I got bored. Plain and simple." You crossed your arms as you continued, "You care more about your own pleasure than mine, so I'm no longer interested."

Rafe scoffed bitterly. "No longer interested? That's bullshit, Y/N, and you know it. You and I both know there's no one here who can make you feel as good as I do. No one knows your body like I do. Do you really think any of these idiots could make you cum the way I can?" He growled, tightening his grip on your shoulders.

You smirked up at him. "Maybe, maybe not. But it's worth a shot to see if anyone can do better. As of right now, I've got my eye on him." You gestured towards Topper Thornton, who was across the room drinking and chatting with Kelce. Rafe let out a mocking laugh, as if the very notion was absurd. "Really?! Topper Thornton is who you're interested in?" he scoffed. "That's got to be a joke, Y/N. You'd actually lower your standards that much?"

"I think I already lowered my standards when I started sleeping with you," you retorted with a smirk, knowing you were getting under his skin. You begin to speak once again, "I mean, Topper is very attractive. Or if you'd rather, I could go and sleep with Maybank. I know for a fact that he'd know how to—"

But you get cut off as Rafe's hand suddenly wraps around your throat. He yanks you forward, his nose only inches from yours. The height difference causes you to rise up on your tiptoes. "Cut it out Y/N or I swear to god I will take you up those fucking stairs right now and fuck your ass so hard that you won't be able to walk the next day." He said, his voice lethally soft. You look up at him, remaining defiant as a a smirk playing on your lips before you speak "I think I'd rather Topper over there to fuck me."

"You want Topper to fuck you?! Fine!" He snaps, his grip around your throat tightening slightly as he continues, "but just know that I will make you beg on your fucking hands and knees when you crawl back to me, begging me for my cock because Topper couldn't fuck you properly." With that, he roughly drops you. You glance over to where Topper stands with Kelce, then shift your gaze back to Rafe. He smirks down at you, tilting his head. "Well? What are you waiting for? I thought you wanted to whore yourself out to Topper." His grin widens as he sees your face twist with annoyance. "Or are you having second thoughts?"

You glared at him before turning around and starting to make your way towards Topper. But before you could reach him, Rafe came over and grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder. He then smacked your ass roughly, eliciting a squeak from you.

"I- what the hell, Rafe?!" you yelled as he carried you towards the stairs. "Did you really think I was going to let you fuck him? You're mine, Y/N, and by the end of the night the only name that will be able to leave your lips is mine," he growled.

౨ৎ Author's Note: tysm for reading, babes! part two coming soon!

[srgntjamesbuckybarnes]

Past, Present, ...

Summary: After sleeping with Bucky after months of comforting him during his nightmares, Y/N returns from a three-week mission to find out she's been replaced.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Near death, Implying attempted suicide (it's not)

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Not Beta'd. Dusting this off from the drafts. I wrote this while sleep deprived. Not sure how we got here but the original ending wasn't a happy one. Enjoy whatever this is instead.

How much space is too much?

According to James Bucky Barnes, three weeks isn't enough.

Three weeks on an assignment was enough for Y/N to become homesick. She understood she would have to pause her life to save the world, but what no one informed her was that the rest of the world would continue to play.

“Y/L/N?” A familiar voice shouted.

Adjusting the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder, Y/N turned her head to find her co-worker jogging towards her. Slanting her eyes, Y/N raised her palm to block out the sun.

“Wilson,” she addressed the man when he was near.

Bent over with his hands on his knees, Sam panted. His sweatshirt stretched across his back making the dark patch of sweat more prominent. Squinting up at Y/N, Sam breathed, “Did you just get back?”

Y/N bobbed her head, adjusting the strap on her shoulder once more for emphasis rather than comfort. She did not need to ask to know Sam just returned from his run. He usually ran with Steve and Bucky, but they always finished well before Sam. It wasn’t uncommon for him to return hours after the super-soldiers.

Pushing off his knees, Sam stood, tilting his head toward one of the many entrances in Avengers Tower. He knew better than to offer to carry her duffle bag. The weight of missions was often packed in the bags they returned with.

Y/N and Sam strolled side by side. Sam only paused to open the door for Y/N. Trekking into the tower, he could finally relax his eyes from the intense sun. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“I thought you were already back,” Sam admitted, watching the light above the elevator doors.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Her mission was supposed to be longer. If anything, he should have anticipated her return later. Facing the man beside her, she asked, “Why?”

Ding.

Scrambling into the elevator, Sam leaned against the wall across from Y/N. She reflected his behavior, leaning against the wall behind her.

Once the elevator started moving, Sam confessed, “Bucky skipped his run today. I thought I saw you with him before I left. Guess I was wrong.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, reopening a recently closed wound. She released her lip long enough to confirm what Sam already knew. “You were wrong.” Ignoring the coppery taste flooding her tongue, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth again.

She hadn’t seen her teammates in three weeks. She hadn’t seen Bucky longer. She assumed they were doing great, but Bucky didn't share her thoughts. He denied it, yet he went out of his way to avoid her since their last mission together, since they slept together. How one could be sweet in one moment and cold in another, Y/N would never understand.

Y/N and Bucky started off rocky. He hated her from the moment they met. Bucky was struggling in the field, so Steve asked her to keep an eye on him. Bucky rejected her the second Steve introduced them. He saw through Steve’s plan and stomped his feet like a child. Rather than confirm Bucky’s insinuation, Steve vouched that she deserved to be on the team for her talents, not to babysit Bucky. He even suggested that Y/N and Bucky spar to prove it. Bucky loathed her then. She laid him out several times that day. It was the reason Steve sought her out in the first place. Bucky was a far more experienced fighter than Y/N. He should have won every fight. He lost them all.

Muffled voices were heard from the other side of the doors. Voices Y/N craved to hear since she departed for her mission. When the doors spread, Sam was the first to enter the room. “Hey guys,” he called out, extending his hands toward Y/N, “look who I found.”

Y/N tentatively stepped off the elevator, joining her friends in the living room. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen so many eyes on her. “I didn’t know there was a party,” she joked, waving.

Tony was the first to speak up, a glass of honey liquid in hand, “Glad, you're back. We were just getting to know Bucky’s girlfriend over here.” He lifted his glass.

Y/N’s eyes followed the direction of Tony’s glass. Her hand tautened around the strap of her duffle bag for support. Y/N hadn’t noticed the extra body in the room at first. The team always had someone over for business or pleasure; it didn’t matter. This time it did because staring back at her was Bucky’s guest, his girlfriend, undoubtedly here for pleasure.

The stunning woman beside Bucky introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Evangelina, but everyone calls me Lina.” Y/N could see the muscles in her uncovered arms tense. Even though she couldn’t see the hand attached to the arm from the other side of the bar, she knew Evangelina was holding Bucky’s flesh hand. “But Bucky calls me Angel,” she added, batting her eyelashes at Bucky.

The woman wasn't solely attractive; she also had a heavenly name. Y/N mentally gagged at the thought of hearing Bucky call his girlfriend Angel.

The coward refused to meet Y/N’s eyes. He took a lengthy drink from a glass matching Tony’s. Stark usually drank top-shelf liquor. Y/N might have been concerned under different circumstances, but she knew the liquor did not affect him, unlike herself.

“Y/N,” she weakly introduced herself, gnawing on her bottom lip again.

“We were just having drinks. Care to join us? There is plenty of alcohol. I can make you something,” Evangelina offered politely.

Y/N’s teeth clamped tight on her bottom lip. She spent three weeks wishing she could return to the tower, only to be treated like a guest, an outsider in her own home.

It was then that Bucky decided to face her, yet his eyes looked right through her. Y/N’s chest tightened. She didn’t know it was feasible to feel more alone in her home, surrounded by friends and a man she had been intimate with, than by herself in a foreign country. She wondered if he could see the hurt written on her face.

“I-I don’t-”

Bucky’s whiskey-strained voice interrupted, “No. No drinks.”

A gasp pulled Y/N's attention away from the couple. Cold, pale hands rested on her cheeks, rotating her head from side to side. “Y/N, you’re bleeding,” Natasha chastised.

Wrestling out of Natasha’s hold, Y/N utilized the back of her hand to wipe the blood from her lip. Staring at the crimson fluid coating her skin, Y/N jerked her head. “I can’t.” Blindly smashing the elevator button behind her, she whispered, “I have to…” her voice trailed off as she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. Disregarding everyone’s silent questions, she bolted into the elevator, only letting her shoulders sag when the doors closed. The strap of her duffle bag slid from her shoulder landing with a thud. Gliding her back down the wall, Y/N cradled her knees and wept.

Every night before bed, Y/N prayed the sun would never rise because when day broke, Bucky vanished. Her dreams filled with memories of their last mission together. Reality was the price of admission for eight hours in heaven.

Y/N clenched her jaw at every public display of affection between the new couple. In the time she had known him, Bucky had never been touchy-feely in public. Now, he couldn’t appear to stop. Bucky only ever reached for Y/N after a nightmare or horrific mission. He reached for her at his lowest and she responded with open arms. He might have another woman occupying his bed, but he continued to fuck with her head.

The voice in her head wasn’t her own anymore. Every thought she had echoed back in his familiar deep timber. She couldn’t shake him. A twisted part of her brain wondered if he couldn’t shake her either.

Sam’s comment when she returned from her assignment should have been her first clue. He had mistaken Evangelina for her. Sam had been the first to mention the resemblance between the two, but it wasn’t the last time Y/N received those kinds of comments.

In the time that Y/N had gotten to know Evangelina, which wasn’t much, she concluded that she didn’t hate her. The two had more in common than she wanted to admit. Evangelina made it a point to befriend all of the Avengers; Y/N included. Y/N hated that she enjoyed her company. It was a tough pill to swallow at first, but she couldn’t hate the woman for her taste in men. Who didn’t find Bucky Barnes attractive?

Bucky had been more challenging to read. He didn’t prevent the women from becoming friends, but he didn’t encourage it either. He continued to keep his distance from Y/N, only interacting with her in group settings.

The Avengers were unaware of Bucky and Y/N’s history. Their relationship was exclusively behind closed doors. Y/N wondered if Evangelina would be her confidante if she knew Y/N had warmed his bed first. Maybe Bucky told her and that was why she pushed to be Y/N’s friend. Maybe that was the reason she asked to raid Y/N’s closet for her date with Bucky. Even though Y/N desperately wanted to slam the door in her face, Evangelina was innocent in the situation. So, she agreed.

“You have so many pretty dresses,” Evangelina said in awe. Her hand ran across each piece of fabric dangling in the wardrobe.

Y/N’s fingers plucked at a loose thread on her comforter. Although they were now friends, helping Bucky’s girlfriend pick out an outfit for their date was still awkward. At least it was on Y/N’s end. Evangelina was none the wiser.

“Perks of being an Avenger.”

“What’s it like being an Avenger? Bucky never talks about his work life. He’s always tense when he returns from a mission.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow even though the other woman couldn’t see her. Bucky was slow to open up, especially about his past as the Winter Soldier. Y/N wasn’t surprised he dodged the topic. Ever since Natasha leaked classified files, Bucky’s past became public knowledge. Bucky and Evangelina’s relationship progressed beyond what Y/N previously had with Bucky, at least on the surface. She didn’t know much about their life behind closed doors. Bucky never took Y/N on a date or made her his girlfriend, but he let her hold him in her arms at night and let her in after a difficult mission. Yet his girlfriend practically confessed she knew nothing about his troubles. That was what shocked Y/N.

“It’s…” she paused, attempting to find the right words to convey the difficulties of the job without disturbing her. “It’s like war. You save and lose people. It’s rewarding and sucks at the same time.”

Evangelina pivoted with a black cocktail dress in hand. “That sounds awful.”

Y/N shrugged. “People do it every day. Steve, Sam, and Bucky were all military men before this.” She waved her hands around the room.

Evangelina caught the shift in Y/N’s tone. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, a reaction Evangelina grew used to from her exchanges with Bucky. Altering the subject, Evangelina pressed the cocktail dress flush to her body. “What about this one?”

Y/N sucked in a deep breath. She wore the dress on her last mission with Bucky. Though he didn’t say it in public, his reaction when they returned to the safe house that night was enough to know Bucky admired the dress. With Evangelina’s similar figure, Y/N knew Bucky would equally appreciate it on her, especially since he wouldn’t get to rip it off of Y/N again.

She would have told Evangelina about the dress, but it was none of her business. The past was in the past. One Evangelina wasn’t a part of. If Bucky hadn’t told her about their past neither would she. Was it bad to send Evangelina on a date in the dress Bucky had fucked her in? Probably. Did she hope he would think about her the entire date? Absolutely.

Clearing her throat, Y/N plastered a phony smile on her face. “Good choice.” After the date, the dress would be tarnished, like rerecording over an old tape.

Y/N never considered herself a masochist, but she couldn’t escape the role of a domestic sinner. She couldn’t sabotage Evangelina’s relationship no matter how Bucky made her feel; however, she could ruin her own relationship. There was a time in her life when she thought Bucky was the one. Part of her still believed it. It was the part she had to sacrifice.

She told herself Bucky’s soft caresses and lingering stares meant nothing, that every promise spoken was a lie to satisfy the moment. Everything Y/N ever loved had been hard to part with, so she convinced herself Bucky never truly loved her. He couldn’t with how readily he replaced her. Could he? It didn’t matter because he chose Evangelina.

“Hey, Y/N,” Steve welcomed jovially.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Steve’s voice carried down the hall. Who was he talking to? Rounding the corner just in time, she hadn’t missed the way Steve’s eyes enlarged at the sight of her.

“I didn’t realize,” Steve began, his eyes flashing between both women. “I thought you were Y/N.”

Evangelina chuckled, gliding her hands across her abdomen to smooth down the front of the dress. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Y/N was considerate enough to lend me her dress.” She turned to Y/N, who was still standing in the archway of the lobby. “Thanks again.”

Before Y/N could reply, a hand slinked around her waist, drawing her into a solid body. Startled, Y/N tensed.

“Hey, Ange-” Bucky’s tongue twisted as his eyes landed on Y/N. He was relieved he peeked at her face before he complimented her appearance. He dragged his arm back to his side in a flash. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

Y/N chewed her lip, taking a step back. Bucky was dressed from head to toe in black, matching Evangelina. Y/N wondered if they planned to dress for her funeral before or after they killed off any romantic feelings she had for Bucky.

“I did the same thing,” Steve laughed. Bucky glowered at him, forcing his hands into his pockets. Steve held his hands up, “I didn’t touch anyone though, that was all you.”

Bucky grumbled, crossing the lobby to plant a kiss on Evangelina’s forehead. His right hand rested on the small of her back. “You look gorgeous,” he whispered against her hairline.

Evangelina grinned, “You don’t look bad yourself.”

Y/N couldn’t argue with that.

The faint smile on Bucky’s lips disappeared as the hand on Evangelina’s back ran up her spine. The tips of his fingers halted over a loose thread beside the zipper. Anyone would have glossed over it, but not Bucky. Not when he was the one to patch the dress up and certainly not when he was the one to tear it in the first place. When his gaze collided with Y/N’s, she knew he recognized the dress. His eyes blatantly proceeded to check her out.

Y/N flushed as he studied her; however, the moment his eyes drifted to his best friend, Y/N’s blood ran cold. “Are you two,” he pointed between Y/N and Steve. His voice was unable to fully ask the question he wanted to.

Steve slung his arm over Y/N’s shoulder. It was meant to be a joke, but Y/N saw the blaze in Bucky’s eyes. She didn’t know if it was directed at Steve or herself.

“I wish,” Steve beamed down at her. “I have a conference with Fury in an hour. I was hoping to get there early.”

Y/N sent Steve a soft smile. Steve and Bucky were best friends. If anyone knew what transpired between the two on their last mission, it would be Steve. His reaction proved otherwise. She was confident Steve didn’t know about her past with Bucky or he wouldn’t have unknowingly taunted Bucky.

Evangelina ran her hand along Bucky’s back affectionately. “What about you, Y/N? That dress looks amazing on you. I’m almost jealous I didn’t borrow that one.”

Untangling herself from Steve’s hold, Y/N focused on responding to her new friend rather than Bucky. Puffing out her chest, Y/N said, “Thanks, Lina. I have a date.”

Evangelina grinned, “You should join us.” She directed her attention to Bucky, slapping the center of his chest. “They should join us.”

Y/N’s eyes bulged at the prospect of a double date with Bucky. Absolutely not.

“Could be fun,” Bucky added, but his voice lacked emotion.

She officially lost her mind. There was no way Bucky was actually on board with this idea. The man spent most of his time avoiding her. The second she attempts to move on, he tries to interfere. No. No. No.

Y/N shook her head, lying through her teeth, “It’s still new. I’m not ready to introduce him to anyone I know yet.”

Bucky’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s figure for a moment. “That’s not exactly a new relationship kind of dress.” His eyes narrowed in a challenge.

Y/N pursed her lips. “It is for the kind of relationship he and I have.”

Bucky and Y/N’s first assignment together was a disaster. Bucky wasn't prepared to return to the field, but he insisted he was fine. The mission was successful, but only after Bucky hesitated and Y/N was stabbed. The knife was meant for Bucky, and he took her sacrifice for his mistake poorly. They argued even while Y/N was getting stitched up. At the time, they couldn’t stand one another, but looking back on it, it was the tipping point from enemies to friends.

Tony pressured the two to get along for everyone's sake. He suggested going out for a drink and hashing it out. It was the typical outing for a man of Tony’s status with enemies. Bucky had been the first to yield, offering to buy Y/N a drink. As long as it meant they could move forward, he didn’t care. Y/N declined. Bucky scowled in frustration.

“I probably shouldn't tell you this, but ever since the whole enhanced superpower thing, alcohol is like poison to me.”

Bucky’s face softened. Alcohol had been an issue for him and Steve as well. He detested that he couldn’t get drunk, especially with the unwanted memories that plagued his head frequently. It paled in comparison to her side effects. At least he could still consume the liquid and pretend.

“How about dinner then?” Bucky proposed.

Y/N nodded. “Dinner would be great.”

After that, the pair functioned well together. At least until Y/N witnessed Bucky’s nightmares or when he pulled away from everyone after a challenging mission. That was when Y/N began comforting Bucky. While it wasn’t a problem before, it was now.

“Stop staring at me,” Bucky grumbled.

Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from the super-soldier. It was their first mission together since he began dating Evangelina. The two of them were trapped in a safe house on the other side of the world. It wasn’t the first time they had stayed in this particular safe house. It was the exact safe house they inhabited on their last mission.

“You’re hurt,” Y/N observed. Bucky naturally had a sway in his gate. Today, it was heavier, as if he had been lugging extra weight around for hours.

“I’m fine,” Bucky rasped, keeping his back to Y/N. He kept his focus on igniting the fire in the fireplace before them.

Y/N frowned. “I don't mean physically.” Bucky remained silent. “Maybe you should call Evangelina,” she proposed. It was the practical thing to suggest, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Bucky than she intended.

Bucky whirled around; the fire blazed behind him. “I said I’m fine,” he barked. His dark eyes pinned her to her spot on the worn couch.

Y/N chewed her bottom lip. If he was going to get angry with her for caring, then she’d get furious right back. “If you’re so fine, then why have you been avoiding me?”

Bucky grumbled something under his breath, running his hand through his hair. “I already told you, I haven’t-”

“Bullshit.” Y/N rose from her seat. “You fucked me after that HYDRA mission and discarded me like garbage,” she fumed. “I gave you space. I’m gone not even an entire month and suddenly you have a girlfriend. Fuck you, James.”

Bucky stormed the room until he was standing in front of her. His nostrils flared as he ran his tongue along his teeth before baring his teeth. Y/N tipped her head back, daring him to put his hands on her. Bucky studied her face momentarily, their faces hairsbreadths from one another as he hissed, “Fuck. You. Y/N.” From this distance, she could see the muscles in his face twist. She knew he was pissed. Bucky pulled away. “You think you know everything. You have no idea what it's like to have someone fuck with your head.”

Y/N shoved his chest hard. Bucky didn’t even flinch. “You! You’ve been driving me insane with your games!” Her hands moved to shove him again, but he caught both of her wrists.

“Don’t,” he growled.

Y/N ripped herself free from his hold. His grip wasn't tight enough to hurt, still she rubbed her wrist anyway, trying to rid her body of his touch.

“Go back to your boyfriend, Y/N,” he commanded.

Y/N squinted at the man in front of her. This version of him was a stranger. “I heard you,” she voiced softly. “That night,” she pointed to the bedroom down the hall, “when you thought I was asleep, you said you love me.”

If she wasn’t an Avenger, she wouldn’t have detected the way his eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Bucky no longer had to wear a mask from HYDRA, but it seemed everyone except Bucky got the memo. His voice matched the stone-cold expression he wore. “I lied.”

It was the lack of sympathy in his voice that slammed the casket closed. With two little words, Bucky Barnes had buried her in the same place he made love to her.

Bucky returned to the tower after dropping Evangelina off when he stumbled across Natasha with a glass of wine in hand. She was snuggled under a blanket on the couch, watching a true crime show. Since he was unsure where everyone else had gone, he settled on the spot beside Natasha.

“Long night?” Natasha questioned, side-eying the brunette.

Bucky moaned, running his hands down his face. “Long week.”

Natasha swirled her glass of wine. “There is still a bit of wine left. It won't get you drunk but it might help you relax.”

Bucky pursed his lips. “I don’t think that will help.”

Natasha shrugged. “There’s some liquor Y/N’s boyfriend left on the counter over there.” She pointed to the nearly empty bottle across the room. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, “He’s here?”

The red head nodded. “They just got back from dinner. She said they were going upstairs to watch a movie, but after the amount of alcohol they had, I’m sure they are doing more than that.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Bucky stiffened. “They were both drinking?”

“Yeah. The boyfriend came down a couple times to make mixed drinks. He offered me one the last time he was down here, but,” she raised her wine glass.

Before Natasha could continue, Bucky was out of the room, taking the stairs three at a time. He didn’t expect Natasha to understand. People didn’t go around broadcasting their weaknesses. Y/N told him hers, despite them not being friends. It wasn’t his position to share the information. He regretted it now.

Bucky pounded his fist on the wooden door of Y/N's bedroom with a force that made the hinges creak. “Y/N, you in there? Open up,” he pleaded, his voice laced with concern. When he tried the handle and found it locked, his heart sank. “Y/N,” his voice grew more desperate. He could hear shuffling on the other side of the door and leaned in, straining to hear anything that might give him an indication of what was transpiring inside. Despite his repeated requests, the door remained sealed shut, and Bucky's impatience and frustration mounted with each passing second. His voice grew louder, his fists clenched tightly, as he roared for Y/N to open the goddamn door. But there was no response. Finally, Bucky stepped back, his eyes flashing with rage, preparing to kick the door down.

The door opened the second Bucky lifted his boot. A man Bucky had never seen before pushed past him, flying down the hallway. “I didn’t do anything,” he cried as he stepped onto the elevator.

Whiplash hit Bucky hard. His head twisted between the man on the elevator and Y/N’s open bedroom door. The second he caught sight of the man's face, he filed it away preparing to deal with him later. Bucky ran into Y/N’s room. His heartbeat drummed loudly, drowning out the sound of the TV playing in the background. He called her name, but there was no response. He scanned the entire room, finding it empty. His boot kicked a glass, the brown liquid staining the carpet. With a lump in his throat, Bucky knocked on the bathroom door and waited for half a heartbeat before he jerked the door wide open.

There she was, sprawled out on the bathroom floor. Bucky crouched down beside her. His flesh hand shook her shoulder as he called her name. No response. He rolled her onto her back, his fingers searching for the pulse on her neck. Bucky almost missed the faint thrum of her pulse beneath his fingers. His own body was shaking. He called her name once again but was met with silence.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. send the medical unit to Y/N’s room,” his voice quivered as he addressed Tony’s artificial intelligence.

He stepped over her to turn the shower on. Leaving the sliding glass door open, he enveloped her torso in his arms, dragging her bodying into the shower. Crumbling to the floor behind her, he cradled her body under the spray of the cold water.

“Come on, Y/N. Wake up,” he pleaded. He tapped her face repeatedly. “Come on. Not like this,” his voice began shattering. Her head lulled into his chest. Bucky’s fist clenched, mindful not to crush her, as a loud sob tore through his chest. Bucky held her tighter than the clothes adhering to their skin beneath the water. He swayed her slowly as tears gushed down his face. “Come on Y/N. Come back to me,” he croaked. “Tell me to go fuck myself. Anything,” he begged, praying for a reaction. It was futile. Bucky smashed his lips onto the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open with a groan. Her body was sore on the brink of death. One look around the room confirmed she nearly died. She visited the medical wing frequently between missions. The injuries she had endured on the missions were nothing in comparison to what she was experiencing now.

A pressure landing on the back of her hand had her head snapping to her side. Bucky sat with his forehead pressed to the back of her hand, a prayer escaping his lips. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows searching for her last memory of Bucky.

The brunette lifted his head, running his fingers through her hair. “You scared me,” his voice was shaky, his eyes never left her face.

“Where’s-”

Bucky snarled, “Your boyfriend? Don’t worry about him, he’s an asshole.”

Y/N flinched. “He didn’t know.”

“That’s not why he’s an asshole. He ran and left you on the bathroom floor to die.” Bucky watched as Y/N processed the new information. The lack of surprise concerned him. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. “Did you know there was alcohol in your drink?”

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “Of course, I didn’t, Bucky. You’re an asshole for leaving me too. I’m pissed at you. I’m not suicidal. You did your good deed. I’m alive. Now you can go back to your Angel.” She spat the last words, parodying his words from the safe house.

Bucky sat back in his seat, rubbing his chin. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He just wanted to push her away. He pushed too far. He almost lost her. He couldn’t avoid her any longer, she deserved an explanation.

“It wasn’t a lie,” he mumbled. Part of him didn’t want her to hear it, still wanting to starve off the conversation.

“What?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward. His elbows rested on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. His face turned serious. “I love you.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat while her face turned sour. “But I can't be with you.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”

Bucky winced at the hurt in her voice. It hurt him too. That’s why he avoided the conversation for so long. “I’m too vulnerable around you. I fall back into my head way too easily. I don’t want to be reminded of my past. Then I met Ang- Evangelina and suddenly, I’m not thinking about all of the people I’ve killed, or the way HYDRA tortured me. With her, I’m living in the present.”

Y/N sat up harshly, the tears had stopped flowing a few sentences ago. “Because you won’t open up to her! You’re running from your problems and the second she’s gone, you’re gonna be stuck in your head again. Alone this time. Sorry, I was only a distraction long enough for you to fuck me. You don’t love her. You love the idea of normalcy with me!” She insisted, jabbing her finger into her chest.

Bucky closed his eyes, his head in his hands.

“For fucks sake, Bucky. She looks like me. This isn’t reality. This isn’t you. You're playing a role in some cheesy romcom. You’re letting her emulate me to fill a spot. She’s my understudy and you know it.”

Bucky ran his hands through his hair before looking up at her. Teary-eyed, he confessed, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am anymore. I just want to be normal again.” His head rested on his bent arms, leaning against the bed. His back jolted with each sob.

Y/N rubbed between his shoulder blades. “We’re not normal Bucky. None of the Avengers are, but we’re real.” She ran her hand through his hair comfortingly. “You and me, we’re real.”

He wiped his tears, shaking his head, “She’s out looking for a dog for us to adopt.”

Y/N scrunched her nose. They were taking the next step. Before she knows it, they'll be moving in together, getting married, and have a kid on the way.

“I don’t even want a dog. I couldn’t take care of it with my lifestyle. It just seemed like the normal thing to do. Most families have dogs.”

Y/N hated the idea of Bucky considering a family with Evangelina. She knew him better though. “I always took you for a cat person.”

Bucky smiled at her. “Yeah? What about you? Are you a cat person?”

She nodded. “Less work to train. More realistic in our lifestyle.”

Bucky hummed. The idea of them sharing anything both scared and delighted Bucky. “What kind of cat would we get?”

The corner of Y/N’s lips turned upward. Playing along, she didn’t need to think about her answer, she had already thought about it before. “It doesn’t matter, but he’d have to be white so I could see him against all of your black clothes. Although, cat hairs might be a pain before missions.”

Bucky nodded, his elbow on the bed, propped his head up in his hand. His other hand held Y/N’s as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of her hand as she talked. With a raised eyebrow, Bucky asked, “He?”

Y/N nodded, offended he would suggest otherwise. “You know, so I can come home to my boys. Plus, you need more friends. You two can have a guy's night while I’m away.”

“What if I want to come home to my girls?” Bucky argued.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We’ll let fate decide. Whichever we find first.”

He nodded, agreeing to the compromise. “Alpine.”

“Huh?”

Bucky sighed dreamily, “The name.” It was too easy talking with Y/N about adopting a cat as if they were discussing children. It hadn’t crossed Y/N’s mind yet, but Bucky was aware that he wasn’t thinking of the past. He was thinking of the future. A future with Y/N.

Y/N snorted. It wasn’t the name she would have picked but Bucky liked it. She got to pick the color; it was only fair Bucky got to pick the name. “Alpine it is.”

Three weeks later, Bucky and Y/N welcomed Alpine to their shared room at Avengers Tower. The team melted when they met the feline. Even Evangelina. Despite the breakup, Y/N and Evangelina remained friends. The women were filled with too much grace and poise, not to. A trait Bucky had admired in both of them. It should have unsettled Bucky for them to remain friends, but Bucky knew where he belonged now. He might not know who he was or who he is now, but he was certain his future was Y/N.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Zayne: A Good Day | NSFW

Happy Birthday Zayne!!! Our boy deserves a good day because he's our little meow meow! I'm so happy with his event and today imma play his card because I've been holding myself back and AAAAAAAH I am so ready for this. Also this is going to have two parts, the other will be posted by mid-day!

❧ Pairings: Zayne x Reader ❧ Warnings: Fluff, Dry Humping, Cum Eating, Hand Jobs ❧ Synopsis: Zayne's birthday is finally here, and he asked to have a simple, uncrazy day. So a hike through a forest and a picnic dinner by the lake sounded perfect. Halfway through the hiking trail though, Zayne decides he wants his birthday present early. ❧ Word Count: 4.5k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Part 2

Zayne

A Good Day

Being on a private hiking trail was certainly something that you weren’t used to. The path was well kept, but there weren’t any signs to your destination. While you were always used to running into people, even if it were one or two, you hadn’t seen a single soul. It was nice, for once, to be as affectionate as you wanted to on your walk with Zayne without having to worry about random passersby.

Zayne was still a little uncomfortable with PDA so you normally tried keeping it to a minimum. This entire hike you had been clinging to his arm, randomly pulling him down for a kiss, and just being all over him the entire time. It was probably why the hike was taking longer than anticipated. He didn’t stop you once, instead leaning closer whenever you tugged on him and giving a knowing look, sometimes commenting that he wasn’t going to walk off without you if you let go.

You had full plans on making it there for an early dinner so you could sit and enjoy the sunset while you sat by the lake at the end of the trail. Zayne had thought ahead and made sure you two left earlier than expected because he knew you, and he knew you’d probably get distracted and want to take a few breaks here and there. Your loyal doctor was, of course, right in this assumption.

Which is what you were doing now, sitting on a perfectly flat rock that was clearly placed on the trail for people to sit on.  The uphill climb was more tiring than you expected, especially with how you were practically skipping because you were so damn happy to be spending a vacation with Zayne. You once swore you would never be one of those lovestruck smuck, but there was just something about this man that had you acting like an idiot.

You felt something ice cold touching the back of your neck and you let out a small yelp at the sensation, almost jumping right off the rock. You turned your head and was met with Zayne having that ‘innocent’ smirk on his face, the one he always swears he doesn’t give you whenever he’s being a little shit. Everyone always thought this man was so calm and composed, but you knew better. He always had a teasing streak when it came to you, even when it came off with his dry humor.

Your eyes went down and you saw the water bottle he was holding out to you, which was the culprit of that freezing sensation. He had used his evol most likely to make sure it chilled perfectly for you. He always told you warm water was better at quenching your thirst, but after you had complained once he always made sure it was cold for you.

“You should hydrate,” he commented as you took the water from his hand. You stuck out your tongue, and uncapped the bottle; pressing it against your lips and taking a few sips, then  wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Thank you, honey dearest,” You said with a teasing smile. Watching the man’s face get a small flush from your endearing nickname was adorable as you placed the bottle next to you, “We’ve only been hiking for like…what an hour and a half? Why is this hike so hard?” you were whining now, although as a hunter this was nothing, you still wanted boyfriend sympathy. Sadly though, your boyfriend was a logical man and only gave you sympathy when you actually deserved some, not fishing for it.

“The first half is up a steep incline and we’re carrying a lot of supplies. Once we reach the peak it’ll be downhill so it should be easier,” Zayne pointed out. Right next to your feet was a rather large modified picnic basket. You had brought a lot of stuff, wanting to make sure you and Zayne would have enough for dinner. He had claimed he didn’t want to do anything extravagant for his birthday dinner, so taking it out in nature by a lake was the best solution you could find.

Just the two of you with beautiful scenery and some home cooking. You had even prepared a small surprise for him in the basket, which is why you had insisted you’d carry it. Zayne had protested a lot about that, but your stubbornness won out in the end when you told him this would be good training for you.

“Are we almost there?” you asked, knowing that Zayne had been the one to get the map so you two wouldn’t get lost. After your last little hike ended in a two hour detour because you swore you knew where you were going, he became the navigator.

“We’re about ten minutes from the top, and going downhill will only take maybe twenty minutes.” He stated and you let out a small sigh of relief. You couldn’t wait to get there and just relax and have a nice dinner. You had managed to work up a good appetite from the hike, and your stomach rumbled slightly as if reminding you it was still there.

“Good, I’m starving,” you commented. You had been preparing your dinner all afternoon, and as a result skipped lunch by accident. You did have a few samples of what you were making though, mainly because Zayne would keep stealing bits and then pressing it against your lips so you’d try it. It was most likely his attempt at making sure you didn’t become hangry later in the day. He used the excuse of helping you as well, not letting you say no when he asked, so you had given him simple tasks.

It had been fun having him helping you out in the kitchen. Especially when he had been content to just wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on top of yours while you stirred a pot. Moments like those were irreplaceable and you wished you could do it every day. Sometimes your busy schedules were truly a hindrance. One day though, perhaps one day you two would get to have that domestic bliss every day.

“You know, you never did tell me what was in that mystery package when you put our lunch together,” Zayne said as he decided to sit down on the rock next to you. You glanced at him with a smile, knowing he was trying to pry information from you. The package was something you had made at your own apartment yesterday before you guys had even come to this cabin.

You had been very stubborn in telling him not to look in it when you placed it into the fridge, letting him know it would be for dinner. Of course it didn’t stop him from being curious, probably because he figured it was a dessert of some kind. He had been cuter than usual when he saw you place it in the fridge. He had pressed a kiss to your cheek and asked if he could have his present early. He even used your weakness of nuzzling his face into the back of your neck while cuddling, knowing it made you absolutely melt.

So far you had managed to keep it a top secret from him, but it looked like his curiosity was getting the better of him. Sometimes he really did like to push it since he knew you always caved in with a few looks and touches from him. This man knew the effect he had on you, and wasn’t opposed to using it to his advantage.

“I told you, it was a surprise,” you said, feeling his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb trailing over you then going to tuck a strand of hair behind your hair. He was being cute again, giving you a soft look. This stubborn man…

His hand went back to just resting on your cheek and you were now leaning into his touch, unable to help yourself. “Yes? Did you need something?” you mumbled, already knowing you would be caving in soon. Your resolve was already melting away and he just needed to push a little more and it was all over for you.

“Is it so wrong for me to want to look at my partner?” he asked, pressing his thumb against your lip now. You chuckled, looking at him and kissing the finger there. Zayne smiled, the tips of his ears only a little red for the time being. You leaned closer to him on the rock, your hand almost touching his thigh and he shifted himself in case you wanted to come just a little closer and close the distance between you two.

“Normally it isn’t, but I know you,” you pointed out, taking his hand in your own, and playing with it. “You’re trying to butter me up right now,” you turned his hand so you could place some kisses on his knuckles. A small shiver went down Zayne’s spine as he looked at you with slightly wider eyes. His expressions came a little easier since it was only you two right now. While to others he still seemed expressionless, you could tell from the most subtle twitch of his lips how he was feeling now.

“I’m doing no such thing, I’m simply admiring you,” it was a weak argument, but it was enough to make you blush. You let out a small whine of protest, knowing you were losing right now. He was flustering you too much, the butterflies in your stomach going batshit crazy because he was just so perfect you couldn’t handle yourself. Who told him he could act like this and make you feel things?

You suddenly felt his warm lips pressing against your cheek, causing another whine to leave you. You wanted more, you wanted to feel his lips on yours. When he leaned back he could clearly see it on your face, but instead of doing anything about it he just had that subtle, knowing smirk. You were pouting now, knowing you’d have to take charge if you wanted a kiss and play right into his hands.

Instead of giving in immediately you decided to just try to continue on your conversation, “Well, if that’s all…” you murmured, your eyes looking away from him. You squeezed his hand and he adjusted his grip to run his thumb across yours. It was his turn to bring your hand to his lips and kiss the back of it, making your breath get caught in your throat.

“However…” he began and you knew it. This was it. This was where you broke and gave the man whatever it is he wanted, “Perhaps a snack wouldn’t hurt to help us reenergize for the last leg of our trip,” there it was. It was almost relieving that you had gotten to know Zayne so well that you just knew what he was going to do sometimes.

You laughed, pushing him slightly on the chest and rolled your eyes, “I fucking knew it,” you huffed. You could see the ghost of a smile on him because he already knew he was getting what he wanted now.

“Language,” another eye roll from you was the result of his little comment. You leaned closer to his face until you were staring directly into those hazel eyes of his.

“Besides, it was merely a suggestion, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply with your comment,” he played coy, as though he wasn’t trying to manipulate you into giving him the treats you had packed. You groaned and leaned forward, pressing a kiss against his lips.

“You’re playing dirty,” you said against his mouth, feeling the tug of his smile as he leaned in for another peck. “Way too bold today…” Another peck was his response as he took your chin between his pointer and thumb to keep you in place.

“Was it not you who said the ‘Birthday Boy could have whatever he wanted today’?” he reminded you, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. You were absolutely putty in his hands right now, wanting to just kiss him breathless.

“How dare you use my own words against me,” your complaints fell on deaf ears as he brought you in for a longer kiss. This time your mouths working together, pressed up and savoring the contact. You felt him nibble on your lower lip teasingly, making you gasp. He really was being bold today, and you were all for it. He parted before you could lean in to deepen the kiss, a small pout on your lips and you could hear him huff in amusement.

“You can’t be mad at me for being curious. You’ve been sneaky the past few weeks, claiming you were ‘busy’ and then coming back smelling like sweets,” He said after a moment, leaning away from you for a moment. You whined, knowing he was done kissing you for the time being. Normally he was the one who had no restraint when it came to these things, but the man was on a mission. 

He had probably been wondering what you had been up to since you continuously told him you had plans when he asked you to cuddle on the couch…which was easily one of the hardest things you had done in your life. Saying no to Zayne? Unspeakable. Still, you wanted this to be the perfect surprise, so even if you left his home almost in tears because you wanted to run back into his arms, you held strong.

“I told you, I was going out with Tara,” You reminded him. It wasn’t a lie, when you told your friend you wanted to do something special for Zayne, she suggested making his favorite sweets. The only issue is that his favorite sweets happened to be macarons. So she had been going to classes with you. You only thought you’d be attending one, but after failing miserably you went to four more just to make sure you had it down to a science.

“Then care to enlighten me as to what you were going out for?” He asked, trying to pry it out of you. You let out a little groan the moment you saw the look in his eyes. He was giving you those big, pouty eyes. The ones he swore he never made at you. You knew he was a filthy liar though, the look on his face could only be described as a kicked puppy. He was almost begging right now, knowing how weak you were.

“Did you want your surprise right now?” You caved in, knowing that it was futile. You shouldn’t have stopped at all, should’ve powered through the walk and gotten to the lake to avoid this. He would be the end of you. You could give him the entire world if that’s what he asked. It’s the entire reason you had made him take time off work so you could spoil him for his birthday. Spending a couple days together in a secluded cabin is all you wanted so he could relax.

You felt him kissing your cheek again, “Only if you feel like sharing with the class,” he said, happy to have won this round. You almost pinched his cheeks for that, he seemed far too satisfied knowing he got you to crumble.

Instead you groaned and nodded, “Okay, fine, but only because you’re being really cute right now,” you saw him frown a little at that. He always said he wasn’t ‘cute’, but anyone with eyes could see it, “You can only have one though. You can have as many as you want after we eat an actual meal,” you at least could hold strong on this stance. You refused to let his appetite get spoiled because he ate too many sweets. Sometimes he could really act like a child…not that you were any better. You two brought out the best of each other, the childlike whimsy coming back in each other's presence.

“That’s agreeable,” it better be. You brought him down for a quick peck again before parting and going to the picnic basket you had. The bottom compartment had a cooler in it that you had stashed the treats in. You rummaged around, finding the perfectly packed box that you had wrapped in a pale blue cloth with snowflakes decorating it.

“Alright, close your eyes,” You instructed him. He complied, closing them with a smile on his lips. You took out one of the macarons you had slaved over; it wasn’t perfect by any means. Still the top and bottom were smooth and not burnt, and the cream inside tasted amazing judging by how you kept sampling it. They certainly weren’t worthy of being sold in a bakery, but they’d suffice for the time being.

You placed one at his lips and he opened and took a small bite out of it. He covered his mouth as he chewed, finally opening his eyes to see you holding out the other half of the macaron. He took your hand and brought the rest up to him, taking it into his mouth and savoring the sweet treat. You flushed at his boldness as he made eye contact with you.

His eyes then went to the box in your lap where he could see the rest. Some of them were a little disfigured, but you could vouch that they tasted good, “You made these yourself?” he finally said and you nodded.

“Ya, I went to classes with Tara so I could make them for you, they’re not the best, but they taste good at least,” you said, suddenly feeling a little nervous. You watched as Zayne’s tongue poked out, licking the remnants off your fingers and you gasped at the action, feeling the teasing sensation on your fingertips.

“They were perfect,” he said and you swallowed thickly, not knowing how to respond. You looked away from him, your heart was beating widely now because of him. He knew what he was doing because he kissed the pads of your fingers in response.

“I-I mean they’re not that great…” you murmured, “If I bought these in a bakery I would be pretty mad,” you tried rambling on, avoiding eye contact. He let go of your hand and you felt your shoulders relax as you could now think clearly again.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t talk down about my favorite baker,” Zayne said with a small sigh and you let out a whine from the back of your throat. His compliments were starting to get to you and you really didn’t know what you were supposed to say.

“I…fine,” you decided to just go with it. Arguing would only result in sweeter compliments being thrown your way. You sighed as you took the box and wrapped it back up, then placed it to the side so it was out of the way, “Well now that I’ve officially spoiled the birthday boy by letting you have a present early, I think we should get back to heading to the lake,”

Zayne had other ideas as you felt his hand around your waist, dragging you closer to him. You had to adjust yourself, throwing one leg over his lap so you could straddle him since you already knew this dance. Anytime Zayne could get you on his lap, he would. It was basically your favorite chair at this point, and it felt a lot better than the hard rock you were on.

“Yes?” you chuckled, waiting for him to tell you what he wanted. Instead you felt his hand on the nape of your neck, dragging you closer to him. Your lips met and you were still smiling against him. This time it wasn’t just a quick peck, it was a little more heated. His lips worked against you and made you moan once you felt his tongue prodding your lips, requesting access to your mouth.

He still tasted like macarons, sweet on your tongue as it glided against yours so perfectly. You couldn’t forget the irony of getting off of a hard rock, only to find yourself on a different hard object. Zayne’s hands went to your thighs, dragging you closer to his body, and you had to place a hand on his chest, moving your face away and watching the small string of saliva between you break as you panted.

“You’ve spoiled me, I think I want another present now,” his voice was a little more gravely as he pulled you in for another kiss. You moaned against his lips, feeling his hips rolling up into yours. You could feel his growing arousal pressing between your legs as you pushed your hips down on it. The way Zayne’s breath hitched at the movement sending a shiver right down your spine.

“Zayne, don’t forget we’re in public right now,” and on the edge of a hiking trail. Sure you guys hadn’t seen a single soul on the trail, but the thought of doing something so lewd in such an open area was…well you couldn’t say it wasn’t a turn on. You were just so used to Zayne being more modest about how he acted in public.

“This is a private cabin that the lake is connected to. Nobody else should be walking this trail,” Zayne said, squeezing your thighs a little harder. You moaned again as you began grinding down on him, “And you did say the birthday boy could have whatever he wanted today.”

With his permission you began grinding down on him again, letting out small moans as you felt his cock rubbing at you through your thin pants. His pants were already so tight that you could feel the outline of him perfectly through it.

Your hands were gingerly placed on his shoulders, giving you more support as you worked yourself on him, pressing down on him just right to hear small moans leaving him. The grip he had on your thighs was near bruising as he held himself back. He still rutted up into you, even through the layers of clothes he could still feel the warmth of your core against him.

“Zayne, you’re such a pretty boy. I love it when you become a mess just from something like this,” You moaned, looking down at his flushed cheeks. His hair was already a little disheveled, and he was panting, his kiss swollen lips parting slightly as he looked up at you with hazy eyes. Just the sight of him had your insides clenching around nothing.

He let out another groan and gasp, pulling you down tightly against his lap to stop your movements, “G-give me a minute to-,” he started and you could only chuckle. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, then another to his cheek. You could see he was taking one of his hands to bring to the front of his pants to take out his cock, so you grabbed his wrist and placed it back on your thigh.

“If you take your dick out here it could count as public indecency,” you chided, moving your hips as much as you could on his lap. There wasn’t much he could do, not when he found himself under your mercy as you rolled against his cock, the fabric only providing more stimulation to him.

He bucked his hips up into you, jolting your entire body as you began working on him again, this time pressing your hips harder onto his own, intent on making him cum just from a little dry humping.

The moment you could hear him whimpering you knew he was almost there. He always had the same, cute reactions when he was close to coming. The way his body subtly shook against yours, his thrusting became sloppy and erratic, and the way his noises got louder as he lost the ability to keep himself quiet.

“Zayne, are you fine with it in your pants, or no?” You finally said, panting now as you started pressing kisses along the column of his neck, being careful not to leave marks in places he couldn’t cover. He groaned at your words, holding your thighs still.

“No, out,” was all he managed to say between moans and you nodded. You unzipped his pants quickly and took out his dick. The moment it was in your hand you stroked it once and held your hand over the tip as he came. Your hand collected the warm fluid as he groaned, rolling his hips up into your waiting hand.

You watched as Zayne panted, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as he took a moment to calm down, his body still going through the after effects of his orgasm. You slowly took your hand away, satisfied you were able to not cause a complete mess in his pants. As much as you would’ve loved to, you knew you guys still had a full day of plans and it would probably be uncomfortable for him.

“Feel better?” You asked after a moment, noticing how his breathing started to go back to normal. He let out a small moan against you, lifting his head. He took a moment to stare at you which you decided was the perfect opportunity to bring your hand up to your lips.

You licked at his release, letting out an exaggerated moan at the taste. While cum wasn’t the best flavor, Zayne did take good care of himself so it lacked the normal bitterness. Zayne let out a groan from the back of his throat as you spoke, “Tastes even better than the macarons,”

You felt his large hand wrapping around your wrist and then dragging you forward onto him, locking your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue pressing against your own as he tasted himself on you. You smirked into the exchange, licking the roof of his mouth and making his gasp as you bit down on his lower lip.

“Is the birthday boy satisfied?” you finally asked, pressing a peck at the corner of his mouth. You watched as he cleared his throat, slowly coming back to himself. You began working his dick back into his pants and zipping it back up so he had at least some decency for the moment.

“Almost, we still need to take care of you,” Zayne said, looking down at his lap. Of course he would realize you didn’t cum just yet. You chuckled, cupping his cheek with your clean hand and making him look at you.

“You know, the picnic blanket I got is really comfortable. Maybe we can take care of one another and work up an appetite before dinner?” You watched as Zayne’s throat bobbed and he flushed slightly. It was clear he liked the sound of that, already thinking of all the ways he could have you by the lake.

“We can do that,” he said and watched as you stood up. You grabbed a napkin from your bag, wiping up the rest of the mess on your hand and running some of the water he handed you earlier. You then reached out, helping him to his feet albeit shakily.

“Oh and by the way…happy birthday,”

Tadaaaa! And if anyone was wondering, yes the Rafayel fic is coming and soon. I just need to do the final edits and I'll post it. I wanted to get it out before Zayne's birthday, but it's a literal behemoth of a fic.

[faithisyours]

Can’t Imagine Losing You

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.

Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!

“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.

“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.

Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.

You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.

Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.

It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.

You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.

You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.

You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

–

You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.

“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.

“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.

You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.

–

Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.

“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.

“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.

You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.

“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.

“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.

“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”

He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?

“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.

“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”

His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.

He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”

You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.

Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.

He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.

“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.

“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.

Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.

You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.

“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.

You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.

You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.

“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.

You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.

He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.

You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.

“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.

You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.

Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.

“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.

Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.

“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.

“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.

Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.

You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.

Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.

You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.

He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.

Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.

[yndrgrl]

bullies! kiribaku x reader headcannons <3

headcannons for your azz. fem! reader. soft! yandere, hardcore! fuckers. college! au.

warnings: nsfw, threesome!!, degrading, praise, blackmail, sending pics, possessive, lowkey cnc???

a/n: so i originally had this as a long one shot, but i ended up straying too far away from the actual "bully" trope, so this is just to reel it back & get my thoughts all in one place :) lemme know if i should make this a longer fic !

-

✩ bullies! kiribaku were notorious around campus; if you came across them, know not to look into their eyes, keep your head down, & do whatever they say. those are the rules when you see the duo wandering around.

★ they were shocked when, while bullying one of the pricks that decided to spread rumors about them, you appeared out of nowhere. you shoved bakugo off of the shaking boy & put your body between them & their victim. "what the hell do you think you're doing!?" you shouted at them. you put on your bravest face & puffed out your chest. they've seen you around before, always silently admiring from afar until now.

✩ their first thought was, "how stupid is this chick?" they were -at least- twice your size & could scoop you up with one hand. then they took you in; you were ethereal, like a guardian angel sent from the pearly heaven above. kirishima looked at bakugo, & bakugo glanced at him. kirishima gave him a fang-filled grin. they were nothing more than demons who were feigning for a chance to taint your sweet charm.

★ bakugo, expressionless, responded, "what does it look like? i'm teaching this little asshole a lesson-" you cut him off with your hands clenched in a white-tight fist, "you're pathetic! picking on someone so much smaller than you, have some fuckin' self-respect." god, you were irresistible, they thought.

✩ kirishima, who is nothing but an instigator, snickered & whispered in the blonde's ear, "i think she's the one we have to teach a lesson to, don't you think?"

★ kirishima turned towards you, his grin would've been unnerving given any other circumstance. his sharp teeth were on full display as he teased, "well aren't you a good samaritan? it makes me wonder how far you'll go to stop us."

✩ "i'll do anything! you people make me sick," you shouted at them, & that's when the realization sunk in. shit... you've made a mistake.

★ the guy you were so-desperately trying to defend was just a coward who ran away without looking back. now you were in the hot seat, & your heartbeat was thumping in your ears. it felt like there was a drum in your head. adrenaline was flowing through your veins. you swallowed the lump in your throat. they were just staring at you with their sharp ruby eyes, piercing straight through your facade. "so what now? gonna beat up a girl 'cuz you have nothing better to do?"

✩ everything after that was a blur. you somehow ended up in their shared dorm, your throat fucked by kirishima & your pussy filled with bakugo. tears streamed down your face as you felt a whiplash of emotions all at once. they were such assholes, but, god, you felt so good. while kirishima sang you praises, bakugo gripped you so tightly, spanking your red-flushed ass. "you like that, huh? dumb slut," bakugo growled. he kept thrusting in & out of your dripping hole harshly. you hummed in disagreement, but it only made kirishima fuck your throat more.

★ "aww, bakubro, be nice to her. she's being so good f' us," purred kirishima, it seemed like he was on your side, but the tight grasp he had on your hair told you otherwise.

✩ by hour two, your pussy was still stuffed, this time with kirishima. a mixture of your climax & both mens' cum seeped out of your overstimulated hole. you sat in kirishima's lap, bouncing yourself on his thick cock reverse-cowgirl style. bakugo flooded your mouth with his cum, & he demanded, "don't fuckin' swallow, got it?"

★ he pulled out of your mouth, & you listened. your obedience didn't go unnoticed because, while bakugo went to go fish his phone out of his pants that were on the hardwood floor, kirishima groaned, "so perfect, you know that, don't you? just such a good girl, takin' us so well. you're too pretty for your own good, we're just gonna keep you to ourselves~ you'll be ours, won't you, sweetheart?" you were lost in foggy pleasure, so you nodded your droopy head.

✩ bakugo came back & held your chin. his touch was gentle for the first time. he guided your face to look up at him with your pretty, teary eyes. his phone camera was pointed at you. "open up, angel," he said, stroking your lip with his thumb. he was so soft spoken that it shocked you & kirishima, you felt obligated to listen. he was so sweet all of a sudden. you opened your mouth, his hot, white load dripping onto his wrist. he snapped a picture then told you to swallow & clean him off.

★ "you got him all pussy-whipped, (y/n). can't really blame him though. you're too good~" that night, an arrangement was made. bakugo's gentleness must've run out because, when you went back to your dorm, you received an image from an unknown number, the caption read, "if you know what's good for you, you'll listen to us."

✩ bullies! kiribaku who are so intimidating that they somehow got you, the campus' fire cracker, to not only turn a blind eye to their antics but also do their bidding. what dirt did they have on you, everyone wondered.

★ whatever you did, their other victims were thankful because bullies! kiribaku have left them alone. instead, they now target any man who thinks they can hit on you. a guy at the club is sauntering towards you? kirishima grabs you by the back of the neck, turning your face towards him & captures your pouty lips in a steamy kiss. a man on instagram starts talking dirty to you through dms? all you have to do is tell bakugo, & he sends them a mirror selfie of him sitting on his bed while you're on your knees in front of him.

✩ at some point, everyone knew that you belonged to bullies! kiribaku, but you were just as bad as them. oh? someone's trying to seduce your bullies? not on your watch. they found it so fuckin' sexy the way you'd immediately rush to their side. if a woman tries to feel bakugo's bulging muscles while he's at the gym, you'll be there, marking his neck & glaring at her. kirishima's fan girls are getting too close? you'll sit on his lap & whisper how much you wanna beat them up.

★ "you're not gonna tell anyone about this, right?" kirishima purred, as if everyone was unaware of your guys' relationship. it added to the fun-- sneaking around & pretending like you have no other choice. you were sucking his cock while your skirt was flipped up, your thong down by your ankles. your legs were spread, & bakugo buried his face in your juicy ass. bakugo responded between pants, "'course not, don't be stupid. we got those cute lil pictures of her, she's not gonna do shit."

✩ bullies! kiribaku who will throw you into the nearest janitor's closet & fuck you so hard. their fingers in your mouth to act as a makeshift gag.

★ bullies! kiribaku who are never hesitant to treat you to whatever you want, but they're always so awkward about it. after all, they're not used to having such a graceful angel by their side.

✩ in the end, bullies! kiribaku corrupted you, not that you cared. you loved their nasty teasing, the manhandling, & the secret touching moments shared between all of you.

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter five)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) , MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, roughhousing, eventual piv, one chapter specific dubcon scene (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 5/6

words: um. 9.5k (sorry? but also you're welcome??)

chapter warnings: this chapter contains a scene that falls solidly into dubcon territory, so please proceed with caution, stay safe out there.

moodboards

series masterlist

a/n: WELL. here we are, almost at the end of our little rollercoaster ride. i've lost brain cells over this chapter, almost cut it up into smaller chunks, but ended up leaving it as long as i originally planned (longer, in fact. whoops). as always, feedback is very welcome + encouraged (i love hearing/reading your thoughts as things progress) buckle up, please do take note of the dubcon warning, prepare for the angst, and most importantly, enjoy!

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

He was back to ignoring you again.

But this time, the feeling was mutual. You’d never felt as thoroughly rejected as you did the night he had you walk back to your room, legs weak, wrapped in nothing but his shirt.

Once upon a time, this scenario would have been one you dreamed of, but reality often falls flat on its face. You wouldn’t have dreamt of walking away from him like this if you’d known it would feel this empty.

Humiliation ran rampant through your body, starting with the tears you blinked away as you left his room, closing the door behind you, and then flooding over as you stepped into your own room, slumping on the bed, curling up into yourself and weeping, pressing your still aching legs together but too upset to finish yourself off.

You kicked yourself for getting carried away, for getting too loud, too possessive with his face between your thighs and your hand in his hair. For getting so caught up in the moment, briefly forgetting your games, and for believing even for a second that you would be on the same page.

This push and pull had begun to wear you thin, and you were tired. So, you slept. Until nearly midday the next morning, when Lucille knocked on your door to remind you it was time for your monthly PR debrief.

The good news, though arguable at this point, was that your arrangement hadn’t been affected by recent events. At least, not on paper. Cordelia ran you through each gala, public appearance, and dinner, barely noticing your preoccupation, rambling on about speeches, coordinating outfits, dates and times of events, what to say and how to say it.

For you - and you could only imagine, Coriolanus too - everything had changed over the span of a month. 

Your shame made you abnormally quiet, head hung low, gaze averted, nodding along as Cordelia prompted either a response or approval from you. Snow just stared, glancing at her only when completely necessary, but otherwise, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

He was enjoying this. The sick fuck. You were glad when the meeting ended and you could scamper into the library, eager to lose yourself in a story of any kind other than the one you were living.

This went on. By day, you barely looked at him; by night, you tried over and over to prove that your own fingers were enough to keep you satisfied. To convince yourself that you just wanted him, you didn’t need him.

Because if you needed him, then he called the shots. He would win. And victorious as he may seem, the game wasn’t over yet. You’d slipped up in a moment of vulnerability, he’d tricked you into a corner just to prove his point.

You wanted him, you didn’t need him. But if you did… well.

He was going to have to need you more.

You held back this time. Keeping your cards safe, close to your chest. In a strange way, you found a kind of solace in your arrangement. Recent events had caused it to feel unstable, breakable even, but the meeting had ensured that it was all still on the right track. It allowed you to take a small piece of what you wanted from him without guilt or repercussions. After all, it was planned out to benefit you both. Then, when you were ready, and with a gentle hand, you began to weaponise it, loading it up in the barrel of a gun aimed directly at Snow.

You didn't have much left, but you had this. You knew where your promiscuity had led you. This time, you wanted to pull on his heart strings. Make him feel remorse, or whatever similar emotion he was capable of. Make him soften to you. Torture him with almosts that were never enough.

So when you took, you took cautiously, tentatively. You deepened your usually light kisses to what was just past socially acceptable, only to pull back when Snow began to lean in, turning away and smiling at the people surrounding you, or full-on entering into conversation with somebody else. You'd brush your thumb against his when you held hands, waiting for him to look at you, drawing your hand away when he did. You'd offer smiles to everyone but him, talk and laugh a little louder when you could feel him watching.

You pretended he didn’t exist. You could feel him begin to simmer. It wasn't as brazen as your usual game, but it was working.

Until it wasn’t.

“Something’s wrong, what is it?”

Lucille’s face dropped, her shaking hands lowering from the zip she was struggling with. You were getting ready for a luncheon, and you’d picked out an emerald green dress, one of your favorites for daytime events.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice, ma’am. I apologise. It’s my brother, he… it’s getting worse again.”

“Sit down for a second. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You listened to Lucille open up uncomfortably, visibly nervous that you would offer your financial support as you’d done before. But you didn’t, sparing her from having to turn you down.

Lucille was stubborn - she would never accept your charity. She was more than happy to work for her wages, and frequently worked longer hours. As months went by, you’d brought her pay up as high as you could without her noticing. But now things were getting more critical, and you knew there was only one thing you could do.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go and see your brother.”

“But you’re not dressed-”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home, Lucille. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She smiled softly.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You’d tried with the zip, you really had. You didn’t want to have to knock on Snow’s office door with two favors to ask instead of one, but the dress was tight and the zip kept getting jammed. So, there you stood, dress half undone at the back, heart in your throat. You counted your blessings; at least it wasn’t his bedroom. You didn’t think you could face him at all in there. You heard typing from inside.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open, feeling like an intruder.

“Sorry, I just… Could you help me with this?” Your hand tightened behind your back, holding the dress together.

He narrowed his eyes. He was already in his suit, typewriter on the desk in front of him.

“Lucille forget how to do her job?”

“I don’t need snide right now. Please, Coriolanus? I’ll explain when I’m not half naked. It’s drafty in here.”

You tried to make it clear in your tone that this wasn’t some ploy. You weren’t sure you had many of those left to offer.

“Fine.” He sighed, and stood, making no motion towards you, so you crossed the room, gripping onto the fabric, turning your back to him.

His hand came to rest on your waist as the other took the zipper, and you tried not to flinch at his touch. You pressed your lips together as he carefully zipped you up, cold metal sending a chill down your spine. Or maybe that was just him. You felt your eyes slide shut and your lips part as his hand lingered on your waist. You couldn’t hear anything but your heartbeat and the tick of his grandfather clock.

“Is that okay? Not too tight?” His breath on your neck gave you goosebumps, you hoped desperately that he wouldn’t notice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

The second his hand fell from your waist, you missed it. You carefully met his eye; he was looking at you like you had something he wanted.

So why hadn’t he wanted you? You’d been right there, and he’d turned you down.

He cleared his throat.

“I should finish this letter before we leave. Was there anything else?”

You paused.

“Actually, there is. Could I ask you a favor?” You glanced off to the side, suddenly very interested in the knots of wood on his desk. What helped was that you'd never seen inside this room before, and you hid behind your curiosity like it was a lifeline.

“What is it?”

“It’s…” you lowered your voice, “it’s about Lucille. Her brother, actually. He’s in the hospital again. The family can’t afford the medical bills to keep him in for as long as he needs. I’d like to foot the bill, but I can’t do it anonymously. I thought… well, I was wondering if you could pull a few strings.”

You were overexplaining, something you weren’t at all used to doing, but these days, just being in the same room as him made you nervous. You stared at his desk, at the lack of photographs on it, the single pen laying to the side, the smoothness of the glaze.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Consider it done.”

You looked up.

“Really?”

“Did you think I’d say no?” He asked.

“I- no, but…”

“It’s something that matters to you.”

You blinked, dumbfounded at how simply he put it.

“Yes. It is. Thank you, Coriolanus.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll make sure it’s anonymous.”

“Thank you. Or, I mean…”

He looked at you, and you wanted to melt. Wanted to throw strategy out the window, god, but -

You couldn’t. It hadn’t worked last time. You’d hoped to avoid a stalemate, but here you were, sat right in the middle of one.

“The car’s coming in a half hour. Are you almost ready?” He asked.

“Yes. Almost.”

The luncheon was going well, at first. You were at the head of a large table, sat beside Snow, straightening your salad fork as he stood up to make a speech. You’d been glancing at him throughout the afternoon; it wasn’t so hard to anymore. It felt like his willingness to help Lucille without question, just because it was what you wanted, had more of an effect on you in five minutes than the entire week of your teasing had on him. One conversation, and the tides had changed.

As he began talking, you started to realise that your gentler approach may have been affecting you more than it had him. The party was transfixed; people loved to hear him talk, and you were proud. He had a certain way with words; you knew better than anyone. You’d fallen victim to them.

You weren’t sure why his words affected you – you’d been there, you’d agreed when Cordelia had suggested he say something nice about you in this particular speech, really make the crowd swoon, lay it on thick - but when he started to talk about you, about how proud he was to have you by his side, how strong you were-

You knew he was just reciting a script written for him, but you couldn’t help it. The tears began to quietly fall. You thanked whatever higher being was listening for not letting anyone notice.

Or so you thought.

It was just typical that out of all the people that could’ve noticed, the one person who knew better was the only one who did.

The rest of them would’ve brushed it off as you simply being moved by emotion, honored by his kind words. You blinked away your tears, taking small, polite sips of your wine. It was painful because you knew it wasn’t true. None of it was, you knew he could never say those words and mean them.

And he knew that too.

It was dark when you got home, and you trailed behind him awkwardly on your way upstairs.

“Can I have a word?” his voice was gentle, and it set you on edge.

“Sure.”

You stood awkwardly in the hallway, then he led you into the office. He leaned against his desk, and you shifted your feet where you stood, eyes on the floor, on the art on the walls, on anything other than him.

“You were upset today.” He started.

You swallowed.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” you kept your voice steady. He paused.

“If that was my fault, I apologise. If I took it too far, if I upset you-”

You weren’t sure which part he was talking about, but you finally looked at him in a sort of distant defiance.

“Do you even care if I’m upset?”

“Of course I do. Especially when it’s something that affects you… publicly.”

You huffed, forcing yourself to stare him down.

“Because that’s all that matters, right? What the public sees?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it is. It’s okay, Snow. I’m a big girl. And I can take a hint, too. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. Business as usual, right?”

He just stared, puzzled. You took a breath.

“Look, it’s been a long day. Can I go, or are you going to keep me here all night?”

The silence was like smoke, clouding between you. His brow furrowed, calculating. Then he sighed, long and heavy, and you tried not to let it phase you.

“Fine. Go.”

You nodded.

“Goodnight.”

You’d never been more relieved to get away from him. Your broken walls were starting to build back up. You wouldn’t let him break you, you couldn’t. You were stronger than this.

That night, for the first time, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly what you wanted.

“Darling, you look ravishing.” Lilian drawled. “It’s a pity Snow is so far across the room, and can’t appreciate you. If I dressed half as nicely as you did, perhaps my dear husband wouldn’t be screwing the maid.”

A scandalised chorus of giggles erupted from the group. It was a pretty dress, one of your best. Long and smooth black fabric, ruched at the waist, with a deep cut up the leg that was just acceptable for an evening gala. You stood tall, champagne glass in hand, gossiping with your friends.

Well.

Friends was being generous. You kept few true friends, and they would hardly be gossiping in a circle like this.

Acquaintances was a better fit. Pawns if you were being brutally honest. Politicians’ wives, senators’ mistresses, a chancellor’s daughter or two. Pieces of chess, really, in this bigger game. Anyone who could help you climb higher, whisper carefully spun words into open ears at your whim.

“I just know George would rip that dress off me the moment I got home. He might not even be able to wait, and just pull me into a closet here instead.”

Another eruption of giggles.

“Well, I’m flattered, my darlings.” You smiled. “This is one of my favorites. Coriolanus treats me well.”

“I’m sure he does,” a suggestive glance from Lilian, “in all the ways one would expect, I assume?”

You gasped in mock modesty.

“Lilian,” you drawled, “I certainly hope you’re not suggesting I disclose our-”

“Oh, just tell us dear, please. We’re all dying to know. You’re always so coy about it. What’s he like?”

You pulled your lips into a knowing smile, your perfectly painted face helping you slide into this facade. You scanned your eyes across the ballroom, across to Snow. He stood talking to a group of men, colleagues of his. You recognised their faces.

It had been four days since the luncheon. Four days since your outburst. Four days of hiding away. You’d been dreading tonight’s gala, but it gave you an excuse to dress nicely, and as soon as you’d arrived, you and Coriolanus has gone your separate ways.

“Well,” you hummed, masking your uncertainty as anticipation, “he can be a slight tease.”

A few dramatic gasps sounded through the group, and you turned back to face them, their eyes wide and expectant.

“Salacious. Do tell.” Another voice piped up with a giggle.

“He can be fun to toy with. I do enjoy pushing back, but sometimes he takes it… a little far.” You said carefully.

“My, who would have known? But you get what you want, my dear, surely.” Lilian asked.

You smiled, glancing back at him, suit pristine with a white rose in his breast pocket. You hated how good he looked. He was smiling politely at the group of men around him, but you could tell from the tick in his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Sometimes, I do. Others, I wait for my chance to push his buttons right back.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I don’t suppose,” she pressed, “that you’re in one of those… entanglements at the moment?”

“Lilian, darling, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Another giggle sounded from the group.

“Oh, my.” Lilian repeated, glancing between the two of you. “I do hope you’ve been making him suffer.”

“Well, I’m playing a longer game this time, so I’m afraid there hasn’t been as much fun lately.”

Lilian sucked in a breath, like the perfect idea had just dawned on her.

“Well, I see no moment like the present. You’re here, you’re dressed marvellously, I propose you walk right over there and show him just what he’s missing.”

A chorus of yes and do it and we’ll cheer you ons rang out. Loosened by the champagne, you looked across the room at him again. You could do it. He wouldn’t be able to react, it would be the most perfect torture. You suddenly decided that you were done making small moves, done playing it safe like this was some schoolgirl crush. It was time to step up to the mark again. Take your power back.

Your group could sense the newfound determination in you. You smiled, slow and cunning.

Show him what he’s missing.

Simple. It’s what you did best.

“Watch and learn, ladies.”

A hush fell over the group as they watched you run a hand through your hair, handed your glass to one of them, and pressed your lips together. Before you’d left the house you’d added a swipe of red lipstick, dark red, almost bloodlike. It always made you feel more confident and tonight, you needed the pick me up.  

The middle of the ballroom was practically empty; the dancing was over, and everyone had long since gathered in groups to the sides. So you turned heads when you stepped out, the only one on the floor, black satin hugging your frame like a second skin. You didn’t look at them, you made a steady beeline to Snow. You felt more and more eyes on you as you crossed the room, heels clicking on the floor. They all watched, waiting for… something. Coriolanus didn’t look up until you were a mere few steps away, now deep in some conversation he was going to forget very shortly.

Blue eyes flashed to yours with a confused apprehension, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about the twitch of his brow, or the looks on the faces of his colleagues. You didn’t think about the way he opened his mouth as if to say something, only for it to be swallowed away.

You didn’t think about any of that.

Because your lips were on his.

Hot and hungry, teeth clashing, your hand grabbing the back of his neck as he leaned in, surprised at first, then warm, wanting. Lips tugging at yours like he was starving.

It was sinful.

You’d never been kissed like this before. Your fuzzy brain wondered how you’d gone through life not knowing what this felt like, the press of his lips devouring yours, heated and messy.

He kissed you like breathing, like you were his oxygen supply. His hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, and you heard the echoes of chuckling coming from around you, morphing into a few light claps.

Then, just as you felt him fully melt into you, your hand slipped higher to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of perfect platinum curls, and tugged.

It was nothing but an affectionate display to the people surrounding you, but a brazen reminder between the two of you. It was your way of showing you hadn’t forgotten, that you wouldn’t be made to feel ashamed, to cower in a corner while he got the better of you.

Not in this lifetime.

The second it happened, his breath hitched, and his hand tensed on your waist. You were the only one who caught it, getting high off the satisfaction, finally pulling away.

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a prettier sight; his blown-out eyes, his face stained with scarlet.  

How’s that for tasting your own medicine.

Watching him attempt to collect himself was sweeter still. Watching him reset his face into one of distant amusement. He let out a small laugh, glanced at the rest of the party.

“Everything alright, doll? Had a little much champagne, perhaps?”

His colleagues chuckled, but you didn’t look their way. You stood your ground. Offered a sweet smile, but he could see your slyness.

“Oh, I’m swell. And I think I’ve had just enough, actually. I’m gonna go freshen up.”

You turned on your heel and made your way through winding halls to the bathroom, riding an adrenaline high. You picked up a glass from a server’s tray along the way – the champagne had dried out, all they were serving now was posca, which while disgusting, worked a treat to take the edge off. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and you saw Coriolanus appear behind you in the mirror.

“This is the ladies’ room, handsome.” You looked away, continuing to reapply your lipstick.

He stepped closer.

“What was that kiss about, sweetheart?” Straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You shrugged.

“Didn’t feel like nothing.”

“That’s called acting, Snow.”  You rolled your eyes, vaguely aware that your words sounded a little jumbled. You put the tube of lipstick away. “We had an audience. A rather expectant one at that.”

He folded his arms.

“I don’t like it when you catch me off guard like that. Not with people around.”

“Seemed to like it plenty to me.” You mumbled.

He didn’t answer, pacing past you to the other sink, grabbing a towel and wiping it against his face, where the red had stained his skin. It only served to spread it around further, and if you weren’t already smugly entertained by the marks you’d left on him, now it was just plain funny.

He glared at you when you laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. Here,” you offered, stepping across to him, taking the towel and wetting it, “let me.”

You wiped at a patch, but he snatched the towel back and took over.

“No, you’re rubbing it too hard. It’s-” he glowered at you – “fine. Do it your way.”

You went back to lean against your sink and took another sip of posca, admiring the ornate decorations in the room. A little excessive, a little new money for your tastes.

There was a rap on the door.

“President Snow?”

“Just a minute.” He said coolly.

“You’re in a mood tonight.” You remarked, and he huffed.

“Running a country can get exhausting. Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right.” You said flatly. “Because I’m just a brainless pawn like everybody else.”

He looked over at you, at the drink in your hand.

“How many of those have you had?”

You shrugged again, and he tossed the towel into the sink, walking over to you.

“Answer me.” His voice was stern, and for a second, you soaked it in, drenched in the danger as he approached, closing in. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips, and your eyes followed his as he moved to stand in front of you.

“Shame you don’t have someone to let all that frustration out on, isn’t it? Sounds like that could be helpful.”

His eyes pierced yours.

“Doll-”

“I’m just saying, it’s a pity you don’t.” You moved to bring the glass to your lips, anticipating the burn in your throat, but he gently stopped your hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Posca? It’s my first glass.” You smiled, eyes batting.

“You know what I mean. I think you should stop.”

You looked at the glass, then back at him, and pried your hand away, slowly and pointedly taking another sip.

“Sweetheart.” He warned.

“What, are you punish me? Gonna make me beg for you then kick me out again? Already did that once.”

He gave an incredulous half-laugh.

“That’s what this is about? You’re not really going to be mad about that forever, are you?”

“That depends. How long is forever?”

The door knocked again, and he worked the glass out of your hand.

“Drink some water. Sober up. We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

You sighed, heading for the door, but glanced back at him, his face still a stained mess. You brushed a finger against your own cheek to mirror his.

“You missed a spot.”

You sat in silence in his office, feeling a little like a schoolchild caught misbehaving. His typing was the only sound in the room. The seat was low; almost as if it was there to point out his authority over anyone who sat in it. Knowing him, it probably was.

He’d managed to clean off the rest of your lipstick, but his face looked rubbed raw, uncomfortable. A tall glass of water sat on the desk in front of you.

“Thought you said we’d talk.”

“Not until you finish that glass. I’m not talking to you inebriated.”

“Seriously?”

He shot you a look from behind his typewriter.

“Fine. Whatever.” You reached for it and took a few sips. He looked back down again. A few folders cluttered the desk, and in your boredom, your eyes scanned them. They looked complicated; legal.

“What are you writing there anyway? Or am I too dumb to understand?”

He offered another unimpressed glance.  

“It’s a new bill I’m trying to pass. Except apparently, I’m the only one around here with their head screwed on enough to work on it.”

You waited as Snow pushed the typewriter’s lever, carriage sliding the page as he began writing the next line. You sipped your water.

He sighed. “One day I won’t have to mingle with these idiots anymore. They’ll just listen to me, and obey.”

You took that in.

“Do you feel that way about me?”

He studied you for a second, and stopped typing.  

“No. Not really.”

“But you wish I’d be more… compliant.” You stared at the floor.

“Not necessarily.”

“You sure? Didn’t seem to like it the other night.”

His eyes narrowed. Knowing this conversation was a game of chess like any other. But lately the stakes were higher than ever.

“Never said I didn’t like it. Just that you were out of line.”

“And where is that fucking line?” You snapped. “I’m serious, Snow, because we’ve never talked about it.”

“You want to talk, all of a sudden? Okay, sweetheart. Fire away.”

You put the glass down on the table, heavier than intended.

“I just don’t understand you, Coriolanus. I mean, first you don’t want me, then you do want me, then you don’t again. And now what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think when you don’t give me anything to go off.”

He watched you carefully, and you wanted to shake him, to scream, anything that would give you answers. You stood, unable to sit still, and started pacing.

“You know what’s worse? I don’t even know if you want me here anymore. I don’t know how to act around you because I never know what you’re thinking. At first I thought all this, the whole push and pull, was just some control thing. But-” you laughed, airy and insane, “you know what I realised? You’ve had me fooled, Snow. All this time I thought we were equals, but now I think I finally realise.”

He frowned, waiting for you to continue.

“You pay for my company, if you think about it. We trade services, don’t we? You get something from me, I get something back. I live in your house, eat your food, wear nice clothes. At the end of the day, that’s just it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

You shrugged, tears filling your eyes as bitterness took over, so strong you could almost taste it.  

“I’m no better than a whore myself.”

You’d never heard a louder silence. If that hadn’t just taken everything out of you, you’d have begged him to say something. Instead, you just stared, eyes blurry with tears, as he seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and you gave up trying to read his mind, because his expression was indecipherable.  

After what felt like hours, he took a long breath.

“Sit down.”

You glanced at the floor, then took a step towards your chair. He stopped you.

“Not there. Here.” He nodded at the desk in front of him, and you swallowed thickly, stepping around the desk, getting awfully close to him, and pulling yourself onto the desk, legs pressed together. He stood, looking down at you. 

“That’s really what you think of yourself?” He asked, voice steady and controlled.

You kept your eyes averted.

“Am I wrong?”

He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips against your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. And when you looked at his eyes, you knew exactly what he was feeling. He wasn’t hurt, or upset.

He was mad.

“Tell me something. What do you think I’d do if I heard someone talking about you that way?

“I don’t-”

“I’d have them executed. And you expect me to stand by and let you talk about yourself like that?”

You felt a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t know, Coriolanus, you tell me. Am I disposable to you?”

“Of course not."

“But you’d replace me if I left.”

“What makes you think I’d let you leave in the first place?”

A chill caressed your spine.

“That’s right. I’m keeping you here, doll. If I made you doubt that, I apologise. But you’re no whore. Though sometimes, I…” He trailed off.

“What?”

His eyes were on your lips again, hungry. You wondered how someone could switch from distant to depraved and wanting this quickly.

“Sometimes I wish you were. Because it’d make it a lot easier for me to take what I want. If you were, then I’d have no hesitation in ripping your clothes off right here. Fucking you on my desk, or up against the wall, not caring if you cum. Not caring if you enjoy it. If you were a whore, I’d have fucked you in every room in this house, twice over. I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

His hand was on your thigh, the now-creased fabric of your dress crumpling as it slid up. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fallen shut, your hot breath mixing with his as his thumb rubbed against your skin.

Your voice was pathetically quiet.

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, tone shifting into something tense, something you could cut through with a knife.

“Because you’re fucking impossible, you know that? I can barely think when you’re around. I don’t know where the games begin or end. I don’t… I don’t understand this power you have over me. I thought you knew, you must know that you’re under my skin. I don’t know if you’ll ever stop playing with me. It drives me fucking insane.”

You opened your eyes, hand gripping his wrist and pulling it from your thigh. You slid off the desk and took a step away from him.

“You think I’m playing with you? The only time you pay an ounce of attention to me is when you’re trying to fuck with my head, Snow. I said my piece, you heard me and you still didn’t care. So please, for both our sakes, stop torturing me. Just… come find me when you decide you want me again, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”

You made for the door, which you slammed with such an impressive force that it even took you aback.

You replayed his words in your head that night until you fell into a deep sleep, and when you woke, you felt like your dreams made more sense than he did.

“Tigris!” you exclaimed, catapulting into the blonde’s arms. The people who stood scattered around you in the manor’s large ballroom spun their heads around at your display. A few even dodged to the side as the momentum that you’d built running down the stairs nearly knocked her over.

A few days of silent glances and fewer exchanged words had passed. And now, you were just happy to be hosting in the comfort of your own home, and to finally see Tigris again. You wondered if she noticed how you hugged her, if she wondered - like you did - if you’d ever let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. How’s your Grandma’am?”

“She’s quite well, she’s sorry she couldn’t make it. You look beautiful as ever. It’s been too long!”

“I know! I don’t think I’ve seen you since your birthday, which makes me the worst friend ever.” You groaned, scrunching up your face in shame.

“It’s okay! I know busy Coriolanus keeps you with all these functions. You must be going out of your mind by now. How are you holding up?”

The two of you walked to the edge of the room, where prying eyes had settled down after your greeting.

You looked at Snow, stood across the ballroom, dressed in a pristine suit with a champagne glass in hand, talking to yet another group of men who worked for him – ministers and such, a little higher ranking than the group from the other night – and spared you the occasional glance. As if he was keeping tabs on you. It wasn’t long before Tigris caught on and politely inquired.

“I don’t understand him, Tigris. I think he hates me.” You sighed.

“What? No, he could never. He has a soft spot for you, really, and I have it on good authority.”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I think I’ve pushed it a little far this time. I think… maybe we both did. I’m in uncharted waters, here.”

“Look, I know I don’t know all the ins and outs of how this thing between you works, but I don’t think he could ever hate you for doing anything. Coryo – I mean, Coriolanus, he does care, contrary to popular belief. It’s just that his way of showing it can get a little…”

“Fucked?” You offered, and she laughed.

“Yes, exactly. Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say that he’s an angel on earth, he’s had to do things to get to where he is now. Things that even I don’t know the extent of, and they’ve… changed him.”

You rarely got the chance to speak with Tigris alone these days, with Snow usually playing chaperone, or keeping one or the both of you busy, but it had always been easy to slide right back into conversation with her like you’d never been apart.

You’d first met Tigris at a Plinth gala years ago, on the same day you’d met Snow. The two of you had talked and laughed and she had an easiness around her, she wasn’t shallow and judgemental like a lot of the girls you’d grown up with, though you never knew why until many months later. Snow had placed a large wall between his life before the Plinth endorsement, and after. Few people knew the conditions he’d grown up in, but after countless hours with Tigris, you’d begun to assemble small pieces. Despite your closeness with her, you knew from her warnings that Snow had a sort of temper when it came to this topic, so you approached it with caution.

“Changed him how?” You inquired, finally.

“Well… It wasn’t always fancy balls and lunches with him. It never was, with any of us, as you know, but especially for him. He’s… had a different experience. Grandma’am and I, we’ve known hard times, but we haven’t seen what he’s seen. Not even close.”

“What kind of things?”

She glanced over her shoulder, making sure nobody was hovering.

“He’d kill me for telling you.”

“You know I won’t say a word. But you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much to ask.”

 She took in a breath, and sipped her drink, voice dropping to a whisper.

“This stays between us, okay? Coriolanus has… been out there. In the districts, I mean. Before all this. And I can’t go into detail, he’d have my head if I…”

You swallowed.

“The districts? But… why? I don’t-”

“Tigris, lovely to see you, it’s been so long.” A male voice interrupted, and you quickly excused yourself, slipping away to let the two of them talk.

After mulling it over in your head and making small talk with a few more guests, you snuck out of a side door and into the hallways, winding upstairs until you were finally met with Snow’s bedroom door. The sound of voices and music a mere echo below you, you pushed tentatively, and stepped inside. It was strange, being in there alone, for the first time since he’d turned you away. But you paced the floor, looking for something, anything, that would answer the questions you had. Why the districts? Why couldn’t Tigris tell you what had happened there?

Glancing back at the door, you began thumbing through his closet, peeking inside drawers. You’d already given his room a once over, but you worked more meticulously this time, every corner you unsuccessfully turned over only fuelling your curiosity. You walked around the room again, getting frustrated.

You headed back to the door, scanning the place, and retraced your steps a third time. Knocking a little on cupboards and anything that appeared the slightest bit odd or out of place. It was a perpetually tidy room, neat as ever, save for the desk which contained folders you were sure weren’t for your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. You kept on, trying your best not to leave any stone unturned, and most importantly, trying not to move anything out of place.

Eventually, you moved to the smaller desk drawers again, rifling through them haphazardly, annoyed by the lack of evidence you were finding. One of the two drawers had very little inside it, just a pencil and a pocket dictionary, and as you pushed your hand further inside to feel for anything else, you noticed it felt smaller than the first. Shallower. When you knocked, it was hollow.

It had a false bottom.

Your father used to keep his cigars beneath one of these when you were growing up, so you knew what to look for. You felt around the edge until you touched a small, metal handle, then emptied the drawer, hooked your fingers into the handle and pulled. You frowned at first, there was less in the hidden compartment than there was above it. But you peered inside, and there lay two items: an old photograph, and a silver dog tag.

Suddenly, it all made sense. His efficiency, his drive, his orderliness.

Military. The districts. The dog tag.

You unfolded the photograph, caked in a layer of dust, and it hit you like a ton of rocks.  

Coriolanus was a peacekeeper.

But why? When? And why keep it a secret?

In the photograph, his hair was buzzed, and he was in a uniform you recognised immediately; if only because of the annual reaping ceremony shown in every building in the Capitol. He was standing next to a boy with dark hair, also buzzed. You recognised him as Sejanus Plinth, you’d never met the kid but you’d been to his funeral with your family, and had seen enough pictures to know.

You knew that the Plinth family had backed Coriolanus’ education, that he became their new heir, a protégé of sorts, but not that he’d been friends with their son. Not that they’d been this close, at least. They weren’t smiling in the photo, stood pin straight and alert in what looked like barracks.  

You folded the photograph and placed it back where you found it. Your hands lingered on the dog tag, though, despite the logical side of your brain screaming at you to put it back, leave the room and pretend you didn’t see this. But the louder part egged you on as you pulled it out of the drawer, examining the engraved words, running your hands over the name SNOW and, further down, DISTRICT 12.

You’d heard bedtime stories from your mother while growing up, about the war, the Hunger Games and why they existed, and why it was never safe to set foot in the districts, not even the richer ones.

They’re beneath us, she’d said. They’re dangerous. Barbaric. And 12 was notoriously the poorest, most dangerous of them all.

Coriolanus had now become more of an enigma to you than ever before, and a thousand new questions flooded your head.

You closed the drawer halfway, holding the chain, pulling out a chair in front of the mirror to sit down. You turned the tag over in your hands, as if it would start giving you the answers, if only you looked hard enough.

Why was he sent to 12? Why couldn’t he talk about it?

Despite the conditions Snow grew up in, there was respect behind his family name. It didn’t make sense why someone of his social standing and education would leave to be a peacekeeper, of all things, and in 12, of all places. A strange sort of pity filled you, wondering what he could’ve seen out there. What he could’ve done. It all drew you in as you got lost in a world of what ifs.

Despite yourself, you pushed your hair from your neck, and as if in a trance, wrapped the chain around it. It fell heavy and cold against your skin, sending a chill through your bones. You were so busy staring down at it, so lost in thought that you barely noticed the sound of the door pushing open. Or the floorboards lightly creaking. Or his reflection in the mirror. You didn’t notice any of that, until the door swung shut with a bang.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Coriolanus had had a long day, most of which he’d spent simmering over work and you. He’d kept his eye on you that evening; on the way you’d thrown yourself into Tigris’ arms, and talked, transfixed, and he hated not knowing what was being said. A strange feeling set in as he saw the two of you get deeper into conversation from the other side of the large room, a deep-seated uneasiness stirring him up as he drowned out the tales of his associates’ incompetence. It felt like a breath of relief when he sent someone your way to interrupt whatever talk you were having, pretending that Tigris had been looking for him earlier. He focused on your brief tour of the room when the distraction worked, eyes flitting around like you were preoccupied.

When he saw you dart away from the ballroom and up one of the stairwells, he followed you as soon as he got the chance.

He’d wondered if you might act up today, but this wasn’t what he was expecting. When he saw you, the all too familiar glint of silver around your pretty neck, something shifted in him. Something he’d done a very, very good job of keeping at bay during his first few years of presidency.

Rage.

Your eyes met his in the mirror.

“Coriolanus, I-”

His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, hauling you out of the chair, fingers wrapped in a death grip around your arms, squeezing as he pushed you to the wall with a satisfying thud.

“What, you can explain? I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” You gasped as he squeezed tighter, gripping your wrists.

“Do you even know what this means?” He seethed, dog tag pressed between his fingers, chain pulling at your neck.

The forest. The birds. The gunshots that deafened him for weeks.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry. I never knew you were a peacekeeper, Coryo, I-” He flinched, saw the way you winced the second it passed your lips.

Snow may have been cold, but his eyes were fire. And you were only stoking it.

“So I’m Coryo now? Who the fuck told you call me that? Was it Tigris? I saw you talking to her, don’t lie to me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “She didn’t tell me anything, I promise. Please. It was just me.”

He moved in closer, eclipsing you altogether, grip on the chain so tight he was certain you’d be able to feel it pinching the back of your neck, digging a mark into your flesh. He let the sadistic part of his brain take delight in it, in the way your eyes widened, face pleading.

Whatever this game was between you, you’d gone too far this time.

“How did you find this?” He snapped.

You were crowded against the wall, unable to move. Tears started to brim, and you didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure you could. You just shook your head over and over, repeating I’m sorry like a broken record.

“Take this off. Now. Take it off.” He ordered, dropping it back to your chest, stepping away a little so you could lift your shaking arms over your head, removing the chain. He snatched it from you, gripping it in his palm, looking down at it, and you breathed out in relief.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just looking. I had so many questions. I didn’t know what I’d find.”

“And? Are you fucking satisfied now?” His voice chilled you to the bone as he looked up at you again.

You shook your head. Apologised again. Wished you could apologise in any way that would matter, but it was too late. You’d never been more afraid in your life, anticipating what might happen, remembering echoes of rumors you’d heard, of Snow poisoning his enemies, of sending them to hang. Some you knew to be true, but others you boiled down to rebel gossip.

Now, you weren’t so sure. These were the eyes of a man who’d dropped his mask, and it was like staring into a dark void. You could get lost in it, and never find your way back.

“Please. Don’t… I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me.”

He scoffed.

Stupid girl. Hadn’t you learned by now, that trust meant nothing?

“Like I trusted you in here? I don’t think so. Can’t believe you had me feeling sorry for you. Probably just made it up so you could lower my guard then turn around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I didn’t, Coriolanus, I swear.” You pleaded. You were crying, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’ve been very patient with you, little girl. But this is where I draw the line. You have no idea how far you’ve pushed me. And you don’t even realise it, you’re so caught up in your little crush. Do you know how easy I’ve been going on you? The things I’ve let you get away with… I’ve killed people for much less.”

“You’ve…” You trailed off, barely hearing your own words, barely processing a thing. He laughed, low and dark.

“Does that scare you, sweetheart? Does it make you afraid?”

Eyes frozen open, you just stared. You felt your jaw go slack.

“Good.”  

Coriolanus toed an invisible line, one that had never been crossed before. You wanted him to show you he wanted you? Fine.

He looked down at the chain wrapped around his fist, but he didn’t pocket it, or place it to the side. He unwound it, and slowly pulled it over his own neck.

Your eyes dropped to where it sat in stark contrast, heavy and shining, garish against his fancy dress shirt. You felt your blood run cold.

“Get on your knees.” You heard him say. Your eyes darted back up.

“What?”

When he spoke, it sounded like someone else was talking. Someone you didn’t know at all.

“You heard me. Get on your fucking knees. Right now.”

What could you do? This was what you’d wanted. Just… not like this. Not when your hands were shaking in fear, and you had no idea what this Coriolanus was capable of.

Your head said yes; your heart wept. But you were far past listening to your sorry heart.

So, you obeyed. Legs all but giving in as you lowered yourself to the ground, knees meeting cold hardwood as the chill cut through your dress.

His fingers slipped under one of the straps.

“Take this off, baby.” He murmured, distant, like he wasn’t all there. Your head hung in shame, eyes on his feet as you pushed the straps from your shoulder, top half of the dress falling down. You heard his zipper slide down, and you shivered. No longer sure if it was in fear or anticipation.

“Head up. Look at me. Good,” he said, when you obliged, “now let’s see what this pretty mouth’s really good for, shall we?”

More tears welled up as his hand brushed your jaw, hooking a thumb to your bottom lip, pushing your mouth open. You couldn’t help the way your tongue grazed over it, tasting salt, whining when you realised it was the taste of your own tears. When your eyes fell open again, you finally caught a look at him, hard and tip weeping, and your brain filled with nothing but want, eclipsing your fear for a mere second, enough to bring Coriolanus to the ground again. He may have done terrible, unspeakable things, but he was still a man. A man who wanted you.

And why did that make your heart beat out of your chest? It thrummed like a hummingbird as you took in the sight of him, unbuttoning his shirt as he waited for you to move.

You’d seen how big he was from a distance. You’d felt him between layers of fabric, and you’d imagined this a million times over. But now, as he stood waiting in front of you, you hesitated, because it all finally felt real. Your mouth watered despite yourself, seeing the mess he’d already made, any more and he’d start dripping -

“Go on, sweetheart. It’s not gonna suck itself.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him past your lips. The heady taste of precum filled your mouth as you ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, trying to start steady. He wasn’t having it. His hand twisted through your hair, pulling you in closer, making you gag a little. You instinctively lifted a hand up to his thigh to brace yourself, and he laughed.

“Giving up so soon? Thought you’d try harder than that.”

He pushed further, and the indignant sound you made as you adjusted only served to spur him on.

You tried to focus on breathing through it, but he slipped in and out your mouth unevenly, and faster than you could think, catching you off guard. He looked down at the way your mouth struggled to take his length as if you were a piece of art, like he was mesmerised by it, and that feeling was encouragement was enough to keep you going. His hand twisted harder in your hair, making a fist, and he swore when you hummed in discomfort.

“Look at you.” He said, strung-out and shaky. “You strut right in here from your silver spoon life, and think you can call the shots? You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea what the world is really like. What people are like. What they have to do to survive.”

He moved faster, and you let your jaw go slack. You were barely moving now, he was starting to fuck your throat like he owned it. You’d started to cry again, and when you looked up at him, it was a blur. The furthest you could see was his chest, shirt unbuttoned and falling to the sides, and the dog tag, silver catching in the low light, swinging against his chest as he moved. You closed your eyes again, trying to go somewhere else in your head. Trying to breathe through your nose, to focus on being used, on how good you were making him feel, on finally being his. It was all you had left to hold on to.

But he was unwinding you with his words, knowing just where to press to make it sting, to make the tears fall harder.

“You don’t have any fucking shame about it either. Touching yourself on my bed and wearing my clothes, like you’re – fuck, that’s it - like we’re married or something. Like you’re worth more than everyone else. But look at you. Maybe you were right after all. Maybe you are my whore.” he gritted out.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried desperately to catch your breath between sobs.  

“I mean, you sure look like it now, on your knees for me, making a mess of your pretty face. So fucking good. You’re sucking me off better than she did, and you’re barely even trying.”

You hated it. Hated the way his thumb brushed painfully gently against your cheek, dusting away a tear as his cock bruised the back of your throat and you tried not to gag around him. Hated the way his words twisted around in your head, and how fucked up it was that your broken brain took it as praise instead of punishment.

Most of all, you hated the throb between your shaking legs, panties soaked through and probably ruined. Humiliation seeped through you as you imagined it dripping down your legs and onto the floor. Your salty tears spilled down your face, mixing with your spit and his precum. Hating every second, until your head went blank, and you didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

You weren’t sure exactly how it happened.

One second, he was pulling your hair, twitching in your mouth and spilling down your throat, and the next, in what felt like a flash, you were on the floor, loud, wrecked sobs spilling out of you as you held your knees to your chest, face hidden. He was on the floor too - when did he get down? - and his voice was soft, oh so soft and gentle, saying something you couldn’t quite make out, dull and repetitive past your ringing ears.

“- so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I know I - I didn’t… I took it too far. Can you hear me, sweetheart? Look at me. Please, look at me. I’m right here.”

You pulled your head from your hands, and through blurred eyes, you looked at him.

This wasn’t a face you’d seen on him before. His brows knitted, lips apart as he stared at you, like you were some wounded animal he wanted to save.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Please.”

“I can’t…” You trailed off.

“You can tell me.”

Another wave of choked back sobs took over you. He held your jaw up like you were something breakable. Like maybe you’d broken already, and he was holding you together.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered. “Not like-”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Okay. It’s okay, baby. Tell me what I can do for you. Just say the word.”

You caught your breath, and he flinched a little as you collapsed into his arms. The cool metal of the dog tag pressed into your cheek.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realise how far I’d pushed you until… I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’ll try. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. If you want to leave, I understand. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“What? No, that’s not…”

He cut you off, looking into your eyes.

“Decide tomorrow, okay doll? You don’t have to think about that now.”

“I didn’t know about… about the districts.” You hiccupped. “About you. You didn’t want me to know. I ruined everything, I-”

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter anymore, I promise you. It’s okay, baby.”

You nodded into his chest.

“Here.” He leaned away from you, and you looked up in a question. He took the chain from his neck and placed it in your palm.

“You can have it. So long as nobody sees. You can throw it away, wear it around the house, whatever you want. It’s yours.”

You pressed it between your fingers. It cooled your hot skin like a salve.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Your head sank back onto his chest, and when you spoke again, it was barely audible.

“Coryo?”

He tensed for a second, but relaxed again just as quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

His hand brushed gently against your hair, and you relaxed into it.

“Of course you can.”

a/n: baby's first dubcon scene!! (screams cries and throws up bc navigating that was scary as fuck) p.s one more chapter left!! do we think they'll get their shit together?? who knows!! (i know)

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[cosmicanakin]

⸝⸝ 𓈒ㅤׂ 𖦹 another dean blurb comin' ur way! 'cause i'm having WAY too much fun with writing 'em !!! originally, when this was sitting in my drafts, it was supposed t'be a full fic, but it wasn't coming out like i wanted it to, so i made it a blurb :p

warning(s) fluffy fluff fluff | implied shower sex | dean 'n his lil camera | reading gettin' a lil emotional. ୨୧

　ꢾ꣒　　 ⑅　　 ⁺　 　₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎　　 ✺ LIBRARY.

★ bonus. divider creds @anitalenia !

DEAN WINCHESTER was never really a 'stuff' guy. his life was all about function over form, about practicality, especially when it came to hunting. but one day, on a whim—or maybe because he'd been thinking about it longer than he wanted to admit—he bought a camera. not just any camera, either, but a $5000, top-of-the-line DSLR that he told himself he'd use to take pictures of all the places he and sam traveled to when they were on hunts. you know, a way to document the life he lived beyond the blood and gore, something to look back on that wasn't just a blur of monster and mayhem.

he didn't tell you about it at first. the camera just kind of appeared one day, tucked inside his duffle, and when you asked him about it, he looked a little embarrassed. "just thought it'd be nice to take some pictures of the scenery," he said with a shrug, like it wasn't a big deal. and maybe to him, it wasn't. at least, not in the way you thought.

but instead of snapping pictures of the rundown motels and backroads they traveled for work, dean found himself using the camera for something else entirely.

it wasn't until the two of you went on a mini-vacation, a week-long stay at a beach resort that you'd been talking about for years, that he really started to use it. you love the beach—always have. there's something about the sound of the waves, the feel of the sand beneath your feet, the salty breeze tangling in your hair, that makes you feel calm. and dean, well, he loves seeing you that way. relaxed, happy, at peace. so while you were busy soaking in the sun, or wading into the water, or just staring off into the distance with that little smile on your face, he was busy capturing it all.

you didn't know, of course. dean was sneaky like that. he didn't make a big show of it, didn't tell you to 'pose' or 'smile.' he just… watched you, quietly, through the lens, snapping photos of you when you weren't paying attention. and when you finally did notice him with the camera, he'd flash you that cocky grin of his and say something like, "just taking pictures of the view."

a few days later, after one of those long, lazy showers you and dean sometimes took together (the kind that weren't just about getting clean, if you know what i mean), that you stumbled upon a little secret of his. he stayed back in the bathroom, washing off a little longer, and you were sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling that post-shower glow, when you noticed a small album tucked underneath a pile of clothes in his black duffle.

curious, you pulled it out, flipping through the pages, and your breath caught in your throat. it wasn't just pictures of random places he'd been on hunts. it was you. photo after photo of you. at the beach, of course, but also in moments you didn't even realize he'd been watching—laughing, lost in thought, maybe even sleeping. and the pictures weren't just good; they were stunning. like, they looked like something out of a magazine, the kind of photos you'd see in a vogue or some fancy travel magazine.

you couldn't believe he'd taken them.

before he could catch you snooping, you quickly put the album back where you found it, heart racing a little, and changed into your pajamas, trying to act like nothing had happened. but the pictures stayed on your mind, even as you and dean curled up in bed and ordered some room service to cap off the night.

after that, you never mentioned it to him. you didn't want to make a big deal out of it, though you kind of wanted to. instead, you found yourself sneaking the camera for your own little adventures. when dean was out or distracted, you'd pull it from his bag and take a few selfies, figuring out how to use the thing. at first, it was a little tricky—those cameras are no joke—but with a little patience, you got the hang of it. you never did anything scandalous, just some cute pictures of yourself, and then you'd put it back in its place before dean could notice it was gone.

and he never did. at least, not until one night in your shared apartment. you were in the kitchen, snacking on some chocolate-covered strawberries dean had picked up on his way home from a hunt (because, in his words, they reminded him of you), and you were nose-deep in a romance novel you'd been dying to read. you heard him walking down the hallway, but you didn't think much of it. you were too wrapped up in your book and your snack, the perfect cozy day in.

what you didn't realize was that dean had found out about your little secret. he'd been going through the camera, checking out some new shots he'd taken, when he stumbled upon your selfies. not just the recent ones, either—he found all of them.

so when he came into the kitchen, camera in hand, he wasn't mad. in fact, he had this look on his face—kind of amused, kind of in awe. "so, you've been stealing my camera, huh?" he asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

you looked up at him, mouth full of strawberry, and gave him your cheekiest smile. "maybe," you said.

he didn't mind, though. if anything, he seemed impressed that you'd managed to sneak past him without him noticing. but later that same night, as you were getting ready for bed, you noticed something on his bedside table—a second album, smaller than the one you'd found before.

curiosity piqued again, you opened it up, and what you saw made your heart melt. dean had taken all the photos from the other album and added more—your selfies, the pictures he'd taken of you, everything. but this time, he'd decorated the pages with little stickers and captions in his messy, but endearing, handwriting. things like 'my beautiful girl,' 'my little mermaid,' 'my baby going for a swim.'

tears welled up in your eyes as you flipped through the pages, overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful it all was.

before you could even process it fully, you felt dean's arms wrap around you from behind, his bare chest warm against your back. you turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and peppering kisses all over his face. "you really did all this for me?" you asked softly.

he nodded, his expression soft and sincere. "yeah, baby. wanted somethin' to remember you by when i'm out on hunts. somethin' special."

he even told you that he kept one of your selfies in his wallet, and that he loved showing it off to anyone who'd listen—sam, other hunters, whoever. "you're my girl," he said, pride in his voice.

and you couldn't help but smile wide, knowing that, no matter where the road took him, DEAN WINCHESTER was always thinking of you.

… his pretty girl.

[hauntingrabbits]

More Batman/My Little Pony au art because these are ridiculously fun to draw. Part 3 here! Part 1 here!

More info under the cut!

1. Sweet Talk/The Harlequin (Harleen Quinzel)

Originally contracted to work as a psychiatrist for the Tartarus villain redemption program, Sweet Talk had a unique relationship with the Joker. This relationship was proven to be even stranger than her coworkers had originally assumed when she broke him out and joined him in his life of crime.

Devoting herself entirely to her new life and relationship with the joker, she covers her original cutie mark at all times. Snce her horn was snapped she can no longer cast precise spells, leaving her magic mostly emotion-based and intensely volatile, (typically manifesting in the form of sparks, zaps, and explosions).

Other Notes:

-Using Tartarus as a substitute for Arkham Asylum for this au because why not.

-The villain redemption program did NOT go well. Sorry Twilight.

-Mostly based on BTAS Harley because I adore the original costume.

-Her horn was cracked by the Joker

2. Pudding Pie/The Joker (The Joker)

Batpony’s most notorious foe. Said to have been just a regular pony until he fell into a vat at an Ace Potions factory during a conflict with Batpony.

He doesn’t have a Cutie Mark, but it’s unclear whether this was always the case or instead a result of his accident. The effects of permanent Cutie Mark loss—the only known cases of which occurred via long-banned magic and/or traumatic injury—are largely unstudied, and it’s ramifications are unknown. Some ponies theorize this may be the reason for the Joker’s mental state and general disposition.  

Sundown has a different opinion on the matter.

Other notes:

-Based mostly on BTAS joker and the ‘89 Nicholson joker.

-His name is just based on Harley’s “pudding” nickname for in in a lot of versions, but I think it would also be hilarious if he was a distant relative of Pinkie Pie.

-I could leave it ambiguous but. Yeah the potion vat didn’t actually do anything beyond slightly altering his physical appearance. He’s just like that and he never got a cutie mark in the first place.

3. Gadiel/Scarecrow (Jonathan Crane)

Raised among ponies, Gadiel was relentlessly bullied for being gangly and birdish, earning him the nickname “Scarecrow” in his youth. Though he later successfully became a professor and psychologist in Gotham, Gadiel was eventually fired when he was found to be testing his fear-inducing potions on his students and purposefully putting them through terrifying and dangerous situations. Deciding to take his experiments to the masses, Gadiel donned the mantle of Scarecrow and weaponized fear to become a career criminal.

As the Scarecrow, he’s known for his skill in manipulation, psychological torture, and crafting dangerous potions and gas. The effects of fear on magical creatures are unique and intense, much to Gadiel’s delight and interest.

Other Notes:

-I wanted to make his front half a crane but I couldn’t get the long neck to work right with the mask, so he’s more crow-like instead.

-according to the wiki 1/3 of Griffin names start with a G so naturally I was extremely tempted to name him Gonathon and you should all be very grateful I did not. The name Gadiel has origins in the bible as the name of an archangel which I thought was fitting given the insane religious trauma some versions of the scarecrow went through. I thought about trying to do something similar for this version but given that the mlp universe uses Princess Celestia as a replacement for God in expressions like “Celestia knows where” and “Oh my Celestia” I wasn’t really sure how to go about it. There’s probably some kind of sun-worshipping thing in equestria idk.

-I spent a long time on the mlp wiki but from what I could find the only “fear” magic in the show is just used by one guy and its just called “dark magic”. I thought for sure there would’ve been some random plant or magical creature they dealt with at some point that maybe did something similar I could use for his blurb but unfortunately there was not.

4. Mandible/Falseface (Basil Karlo/Matt Hagen)

Hungry and deeply resentful of the changeling queen for forcing her underlings to share what little stolen love they had with her, Mandible went rogue early on and split off from the hive to pursue his own ventures. Finding success under the name Claypose as a pony actor in Gotham, he was sustained primarily by the one-sided love of his fans for years, despite the false identity having no real prior personal relationships to leech from. 

After a magical special effects accident on set revealed his true nature, he went into hiding and immediately started crafting a new persona, but soon found in his distress and rage over losing his identity as Claypose that he could no longer sustain any disguise long enough to keep up a long-term facade. Blaming the accident, he targeted the unicorn responsible by posing as his wife to leech his love, but ended up killing the pony in a panic when his disguise failed much faster than he’d anticipated it would. Unable to keep up a new identity or return to the hive, Mandible turned to a life of crime instead, doing dirty work for the bigger criminal names in Gotham and leeching love from his employer’s targets to survive.

Other notes:

-Clayface being a changeling was an obvious pick given his power set but I really wasn’t sure how to tackle the main issue of him being unable to keep a solid form for long. I went with his distress and frustration being the main thing keeping his disguise flimsy (so he gets put in kind of an ourobouros cycle where his disguise being bad makes him upset but him being upset makes it harder to fix his disguise), but the magic accident probably also contributed somehow.

-Why are all the changelings straight up just named after body parts in this show whats that about. The “Clay” in Claypose is obviously a reference to his title/schtick in the comics while the “pose” comes from both his job as an actor and the fact that he’s posing as a pony. Mandible is the name for the jaw part of an insect.

-there's actually an entirely different batman villain called falseface in the '66 series but I couldn't come up with anything better. Changeface just does not roll off the tongue.

3. Winglon/Killer Drake (Waylon Jones)

Originally intended to be used in an entrance exam, his egg was stolen from a Canterlot delivery cart on its way to Celestia’s school of magic and sold on the black market to a Pony Island circus. Raised to be part of the freak show, Winglon was pitted against circus performers and overconfident challengers in ring fights for money and entertainment. Enduring abuse and injury throughout his life from ponies that he was always fundamentally stronger than, it was only a matter of time until he snapped. Garnering the name Killer Drake for his actions, Winglon escaped into the Gotham sewer system.

Not knowing how to return to the dragonlands or whether he’d even fit into dragon society at all, he continues to lurk in the dark away from any life, deeply resenting ponies and all other manner of magical creatures that make friends with them.

Other notes:

-I like silly names ok. Winglon Jones. -I like the theory that the dragon egg used for Twilight’s entrance exam was actually fake/meant to be a no-win scenario, but I also don’t think it would be that hard for enterprising ponies to get their hands on dragon eggs. The practice probably stopped in the later seasons when they made friends with the dragonlands or whatever though.

-Given that dragons threaten to eat or kill ponies at multiple points in the show, the cannibalism is actually kind of understandable. And also not even cannibalism anymore. Still murder though.