#SORRY GOING FOR A SWIM - OOC

[swordluck]

ooc . Did someone say munday?

[hellheld]

i wanna write my own versions of sins the way i took charlie and hell itself. but also like. i would LOVE to take [suffocating all previous names] sloth and make them mine but the show only existing to eventually step on anything makes me hesitant even tho i wanna write for my patron sin so bad giugehtijk

[dilf-docs]

Le Pedí Al Mar Y Al Sol Que Te Trajera

pedro pascal x younger fem!reader

summary: vacations are supposed to be fun! and with a hot older famous boyfriend? now we're really talking.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (yum), pwp, p. in v., fingering, pussy spanking (ooc i'm sorry i just want a man to do this to me), creampie, virgin!reader (sorry if this is kinda unrealistic for a first as i too i'm a virgin; in the curb we all fam), aftercare, spanglish ofc!!!

word count: 2,865 words

side note: so, i modified the request a bit bc idk pedro's friends like that (i just know omar apollo can tower over me wait what). check the og request here. reqs still open as we enter 2025! happy new year, dilf town citizens: pushed this drabble last minute as a lil' gift for you before the year ends! :) thank u sm for being part of it, my journey on tumblr is just getting started!!!!!!!!!!

Hace tiempo que quería yo sentir esto que siento.

They say dating a star and having to share him with everybody else is the hardest part, but to you, it's having both of your vacations occur simultaneously.

Finally, after months of shooting so many projects for the next year, your boyfriend is free.

Vacations are fun! They're supposed to be relaxing, especially after leading such a busy life as yours: juggling between work, studies and a relationship with world-renowned actor, Pedro Pascal. Yet, you can't help but feel nervous, fiddling with the loose strands of your skirt.

Pedro wants you to go alone, which means just the both of you: a little escape before Christmas Eve, as he and his friends have already planned their holiday together.

Doesn't matter how many times you tried to excuse yourself, he was determined to make you go with him. Besides, let's get real: it's not like you can say no to him. So now here he is, both of your passports in hand as you both are ready to board your plane to Mexico, where the rest of his friends will meet you a week later. Yes, more nerves to add on the schedule.

"If you don't quit that shaking of yours, I'll extend our vacation two more weeks" Pedro threatens once you're seated, but it's devoid of any malice. He's a bit far from you (he also insisted on the VIP flying part; you're just fine flying tourist, but can understand why he isn't), so you can't count on his touch to comfort you. "Didn't know you were afraid of planes"

You sigh, "I'm not"

"Ay, cariño. Are you afraid of me then?"

"No" you laugh nervously. You are, but not for the reasons he thinks.

It's the very first time the two of you will be fully alone. For obvious reasons, a whole week at the beach is much more intimate than just the dates you've been in. But here you are, already seeing the sand and water beneath you.

"Like what you see?" he jokes.

"Yeah" you look back at him, sincerity washing over the expression on your face. "I do"

If there is one thing you're sure of, is your love for Pedro. You'll just have to wait and see how this goes.

As of now, everything has gone well: sun, water, diving and lots of new photos and videos on your camera roll. You've gone swimming and danced on the bar of the hotel you're staying, some extra drinks on your system. You've also sunbathed under the same sun you've watched go down, in the most beautiful sunsets you've ever seen in your life.

But here comes the hardest part: the night. Sharing a bed isn't hard: it's something that's happened before, one time even staying in his house for two days, all because he insisted.

This time is different: the way his gaze lingers over your bare legs, the same way he's looked at them when the droplets of water slide down them. The way he licks his lips, like he's starving and the most deliciously tempting meal stands before him. Mantaining eye contact like it's some kind of dare, just as he's done since you've landed, using it to disarm you little by little.

You don't think you can't take it anymore.

You lay down on the bed, and he leaves the book he's reading on the night table next to him, all his attention directed towards you. Yeah, you're afraid, he can sense, but apparently not that afraid to wear a dainty nightwear that gives a delicious peek of your breasts.

"Something you want to say?" you ask, almost daringly so.

"Say no" voice low, barely a whisper that could come across a breeze of wind entering through the open window as it stirs the courtains. "Want, yes"

You gulp. "What do you want, then?"

Shouldn't taken the bait.

"You" comes quick, like it's the easiest answer there ever is.

The rest of his answer comes in the form of hungry lips capturing yours, devouring them in a clash of desire against your own, even struggling to breath due to the animalistic borderline savage way Pedro's eating you out, his tongue battling inside your mouth while trying to explore every corner just to taste all of you on his palate.

"Pedro" you moan his name out when he bites your lip with a bit too much force, metallic filling your taste buds. It's all so hot, and you're too turned on to think.

His roaming hands itch to touch every available spot of soft skin your body offers, tracing first through your collarbones, and then leaving the task for his lips to complete. There goes a trail of kisses that go down your neck, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin until it turns red. You whine against his hold, big hands keeping you under him, back pushed against the soft mattress and silk sheets.

You gasp for air, lost in the fire, when suddenly his forgotten hands touch you down there.

"Wait!" you shout, mentally slapping yourself.

"¿Qué pasó?" he exclaims, scared. "Did I hurt you?"

"N-no" you're quick to deny, voice wavering as you seat up on the bed. Your cheeks soon flush, as there's regret when you say. "I'm sorry"

"Sorry for what?" he tenderly cups your cheek. "Just tell me what happened"

"What happened is, I fucked up the vibe. I'm sorry, P. Didn't mean to stop you like that"

"¿No te estaba gustando, cariño?" he's questioning again.

"No" your answer is more firmly this time. His face morphs into a bit of hurt, and then you think your answer a bit more. "Ah, no. I mean, yes! I was liking it. I meant no as in no, it's not that why I stopped you"

"Then, why is it?" he grows a little impatient, but shows no such thing, rather focused on helping you out. "You know you can trust me, right?"

"I know" you smile sadly, insecurities washing over you like cold water.

"Then, tell me" he scoots closer, his perfume getting in your nostrils. Had he wore it again for this? God, what an evil little horny creature.

"I'm scared" you confess finally, the warmth of his receptiveness giving you a sense of security. His brown eyes soften, and you feel tears brim in the corner of your eyes.

"I know" he repeats your words, kissing you softheartedly, nothing compared to as before.

"No" you look directly at him, ready to take in every reaction his face will have. "I don't think you do"

"Amor, por favor-"

"I'm a virgin" you cut him off, panic rushing your answer.

"You are?" almost immediatly, giving no opportunity for silence to settle in.

You nod, slowly.

He sighs, sounding relieved. "And here I thought you didn't love me. Que te daba asco acostarte con un viejo como yo"

"No!" you deny hastily, then laugh. "Of course I love you, P. On the contrary, I was the one scared. Don't want to fuck it up on my first"

The energy changes again, as a flame sparks within your orbs. He looks surprised.

"Just because I said-" he cuts himself off. "Look, y/n, mi vida. I don't want to force you, yeah? I didn't know you hadn't- Listen, if you aren't ready, I'll understand"

"I am ready" clear and convinced, without a doubt.

His eyes circle between lust and love, "You want me to be your first, mmh baby?"

You nod, and he's back at the kissing and nibbling on your neck and collarbones.

"Please say it"

"I want you, Pedro. Quiero que seas mi primera vez"

Those sweet words of yours, an invitation not even the strongest man could deny.

"Let's start slow, yeah?" his fingers travel down to your panties under the nightwear, removing them and tossing them out of the bed, even with your pout. He kisses it off, wasting no time after to see your clit exposed. "Looking so sweet, angel. And needy" he gets closer, taking a better look at the wet mess that coats in between your thighs. He takes a whiff, intoxicated with the smell of your arousal dripping in waiting need. "Tell me if this is okay, yeah? I'll stop if it hurts"

Your breath hitches the moment his middle finger touches your puffy clit. Pedro runs his finger up and down, not adding much pressure to let you get used to it (kissing and eating each other out was all you had ever done). You whimper at the feeling as he repeats his action a few more times.

"Please, keep going" you plead, barely managing to not squirm at the overwhelming new sensations that shoot right through your cunt.

He begins to rub slow circles, making sure to add the right pressure onto your clit, then circling it, all while keeping eye contact, adoring the new expressions and sounds he's getting from you. You realize and shy away, embarrassed all of the sudden at the way he looks at you.

"Don't" he holds you by your chin with his free hand, "I want to know how you look when I please you"

You whimper, letting him do his own thing. He starts leaving sweet little kisses around your quivering pussy, enjoying the sight of your hole clenching at nothing.

"Think you can take more?" he asks, "want more?"

Two of his fingers dive straight in between your folds, coating them with your juices.

"Good girl" he praises when you only yelp, savouring the new feel of his digits inside of you. Then, he drags his fingers back to his mouth, tongue licking them clean. "Taste so sweet too"

"N-need more" you whine, desperate beneath him.

"Yeah?" This your first and you're already this greedy? I think I can get used to it" he laughs in adoration. "Let's try something better, yeah?"

Your body suddenly jolts, his big palm flat against your pussy. Pedro circles his whole palm across your cunt, middle finger pressing tightly onto it. You moan, back arching at the overstimulation.

He feels a little pervy, enjoying the way your tiny young body squirms beneath his caging body for of him. Nonetheless, he continues to rub you while you release more dirty sounds cascading out fo your filthy greedy lips. Your arousal keeps dripping like a broken pipeline, now smeared all over Pedro's palm, filling the room with slippery sounds.

"Mhm" you can't even speak, the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure reducing you to a moaning mess.

Pedro slaps your pussy twice, wet smacks bouncing off the walls.

"That's my girl" he then gently blows on your swollen bud, pressing a light kiss on it after. "Ready for it?"

It meaning his hard tent hidden under his underwear. You gulp, afraid you might not take it. He sees the hesitation in your eyes, but you're quick to dissmiss it.

"Are you sure you are ready?"

"Just do it" you demand, without knowing the consequences of your words, or the effect you have on him. Overall.

With needy fingers, you're fast to strip him out of it, admiring the size as much as you admire his now sculpted body. Jesus, you could build a cult out of it.

"Now" he cups your cheeks, fingers digging onto the skin, "I want you to look at me when I fuck you, yes? Don't dare to look away"

Pedro positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance. Then, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry, trying to adjust to his size while your nails dig on his broad back, as he claims you, makes you his. Only his. Pedro'hi's hips snap forward with precision: every thrust is deliberate, each movement calculated to make your first as pleasurable as he can, despite the pain that's shown in your tears or the little drops of blood that fall onto the sheets.

"Shit" he pants, "tendremos que pagar por eso"

He grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he moans, your tight untouched walls now stretching to adapt to his girth, "like you were made for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he firmly holds you. Your vision goes foggy, mind numb at the burning and pleasing sensations. Despite that and lack of experience, you meet his every thrust, your bodies moving as one.

Your core contracts around him with every motion. "You fuck me so good" you mewl, music to his ears.

"I know, baby" he chuckles, "sólo lo mejor para mi princesa"

Fingers dig into your skin as he guides you with precision, right as he wants you to be. You feel the intensity of his deep inside of you with every movement, his hot laboured breath against your ear.

"Doing it so good" his voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine. "Just for me"

"Just for you" you mindlessly pant out, the sensation of having all of him inside you, nothing separating the skin from skin, igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce with each motion, Pedro's eyes never leaving yours, dark orbs locked onto your gaze as you urge him to go faster, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusts to the new rhythm he's providing, rapidly obeying.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies clashing onto one another, flesh against flesh echoing softly.

"Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me" His words send a wave of pleasure crashing over you, making you moan loudly, your head falling back, "me tienes loco"

Pedro's weight grounds you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.

"Tell me you want this, us" the words catch you off guard. "Will you take all of me?"

"Yes" without a thought or doubt, answering as you whine and clutch at his shoulders with his more urgent thrusts. "All of you, always"

You notice his hips snapping forward, more energy as he pounts into you. "Good girl" praising you again, voice thick in arousal and rough, "so good for me"

Despite being your first, you can feel what would be your orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.

"Pedro!" you scream his name, body collapsing around him as you come, stars reaching your closed eyelids.

His movements become more intense and sloppier, breathing ragged as he chases his own release.

"Espérame. Stay there for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping tighter as he continues to pound into you. "Ya casi" his thrusts become erratic as he nears his climax, "almost there, baby"

You feel his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, seed spilling into you without wasting a drop.

"That's right" whispers against your sweet neck roughly, voice breaking as he collapses over you, trying to level his breathing. "Eres mía, only mine"

You're whimpering, body exhausted from the whole session you had.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired" you sigh, "but I don't think I can walk"

"We'll get you a wheelchair someway" he jokes.

"You think is funny? Ruining my holidays?"

He leans down to press a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up" you mumble out a tired no, but Pedro's picking you up with his strong arms, taking your body to the bathroom. You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"You know what? Your fans were right: you do have a slutty little waist" you mock.

"Right" he blushes, embarrased as he takes you inside the bathroom, then placing you on top of the toilet. "Open up, baby" he grabs some tissues, trying to clean up the mess you've made between your legs. "Así, justo así, bebé" he parts your hair to the side lovingly, fixing it for you before pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. "Done, my pretty baby, look at you"

You hum, eyes threatening to close.

"I see you're not an after-sex talker. Come on, I'll take you back to bed" he picks you up again, your head leaning against Pedro's V line as he caresses your head. "Hope you don't mind the smell"

"I love how you smell" you mumble out in a drunk like state.

"Okay then" he chuckles, "let's go back to bed" taking you out of the room, gently placing you the mattress. He then pulls a pair of fresh panties from your suitcase, dressing you in them. He coos at the sight of you, sleeping peacefully despite what you did before.

He finally lays next to you, lovingly lifting up your arm to put it around his waist. He pulls the sheets over your bodies to keep you both warm, in the chilly room thanks to the beach's air.

He feels you move, snuggling closer to his chest to seek warmth.

"I love you" whispered, not expecting you to answer or hear it.

When you snuggle closer, he's sure you do.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas

[byexbyez]

lovers of valdaro | leon kennedy x reader

PART I  |  PART II  |  PART III (finale)

pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader 

summary: Some things have changed. The months, the weather, the air that hangs between Leon and you. Yet one thing has remained constant: his desire to keep you as close as possible. 

word count: 8.2K of gratuitous smut 

warnings: 18+, smut, established relationship, pda, bickering, consensual somnophilia, groping, dry humping, unprotected p in v, fingering, prone boning, swearing, slight dom/sub undertones, pet names, an attempt at praise kink, pill as contraception, creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), marking, unintentional edging, masturbation, aftercare, no use of y/n, oh and ooc 

notes: i’m sorry to those who were expecting pt 3 to be angsty. i wanted to portray some changes and get used to writing and publishing smut. also, this can be read separately as it is almost all smut. enjoy!

➵ read on ao3.

“This man yaps a lot,” Leon says from behind you, you’re startled by his voice near your ear. His lips tickle your earshell. Like a cat’s fur standing up, your shoulders go up slightly. Renting only one sunbed –a narrow chair, really– for the two of you starts to feel like a mistake. Well, you plan to swim anyway, I’ll just sunbathe, you had said earlier, failing to account for Leon’s FOMO when you pulled out your book from your beach bag. For some reason, he was interested in anything that captured your attention as of late. 

You were looking at travel guides for you and your sister back at home when Leon saw your laptop screen. “What’s this?” he asked, adjusting the screen so he could see it better. 

“Beaches in Italy,” you answered. “My sister will be using her yearly vacation this year. I’m making  a list of places we can go if she asks.” Leon was silent and when you turned to him, already watching you intently. “What?” 

“Our anniversary is coming up.” 

You looked at the date, wondering why he brought it up. “I guess it is.” 

“How about we go? Before your sister asks, I mean,” he suggested, scratching the back of his neck. 

You straightened up on the couch. “You wanna go on a vacation with me?” 

The corners of his lips curled up. “Err, I believe I asked you first.” 

A little girl runs by your sunbed with her arms full of plastic toys, screaming with joy as she plops down to the sand. The bottoms of her tiny feet are red, probably because of how hot the sand is. She begins digging up sand with her toy shovel. 

“It’s Dostoevsky,” you say, like that would be enough clarification for Leon. His arm comes up to pinch the book up top to flip it and peek at its title, which reads “White Nights.”  Propping up your elbow on your torso to adjust both your book and your attention, you try to move as little as possible to not disturb him. He basically made you sit between his legs and lay your back on his chest, saying he would take a dip in the sea in a few minutes. 

You know he’s about to speak again when your head rises along his chest. “He’s been talking nonstop for three pages.” 

“Leon, I’m trying to focus.” 

The little girl a few feet away lets out a frustrated cry when her castle crumbles down, her little arms flap irritably, chucking the toy shovel in front of her in the process. A slightly older boy, probably her brother, comes to the rescue with a bucket full of sea water. He shows his little sister how to wet the sand for it to hold shape. The sound of waves crashing against the breakwater drowns out their shrill laughter.

“You’re squishing your boob,” Leon blurts out, takes hold of the planted elbow on your breast and lifts it in the air. 

Trying to follow the words, your head knocks on Leon’s chin. “I can’t read like this. Let go of my arm.” 

“Nuh-uh. If I let go, you’re gonna keep pressing your arm to your boob and have a nip slip.” 

“I’m not gonna have a nip slip.” 

“Whatever the correct verb for a nip slip is, it will happen.” His chin digs into the crown of your hair. “And those teenagers will remember this day forever.” 

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “What teenagers?” 

“The ones that are looking this way,” Leon states in a matter-of-factly tone. He’s right, a bunch of boys are in the sea, laughing among themselves by splashing water. Every now and then their heads tilt up to your direction. 

You look down on yourself to see if the swimsuit is covering you like it’s supposed to. There’s nothing wrong with it, yet that doesn’t stop you from setting the book down on your stomach. “Why are they looking here? What’s wrong with my swimsuit?” 

“It looks good on you, that’s why. Hormonal teenagers.” 

“I think it’s the position we’re in,” you mumble. Your back feels damp with sweat as you peel away from him, sitting up further away.

But Leon has other plans, he snakes his hand around your shoulder and plants his palm right on your sternum, pulling you back to him by your chest. 

“Oof,” you breathe out once you collide with his torso again. 

He taps his fingers on your breastbone as he catches the slipping book on your lap. “Here, I’ll hold it. You turn the pages.” 

“It’s too hot for this,” you groan. 

“Pardon me for doing something,” he says, sounding neither hurt nor sorry. 

“You said you’d swim,” you say, though it sounds more like a suggestion. “Want me to lather you up in sunscreen? I know you didn’t put it on back at the hotel.” 

“I mean, when you ask it like that, sure.” He’s grinning like a cheshire cat, it warms your heart that he’s pleased with himself just by managing to get under your skin. Something quite like a heartbeat, it feels intimate, an embrace out in the open. In a snap, you shake off the feeling. You’re not going to see these people again, they do not know you, just like how you don’t know the couple dipping their feet in the water while holding hands, little girl building sandcastles with her brother, young boys jumping on each other’s backs. Who would have thought being a stranger to all of it would make your yearning flesh all the more tender? 

Your wandering eyes shut in bliss when you feel it. A featherlight, barely-there kiss on the back of your neck, placed just below your hair, followed by the disappearance of your book from your sight. Leon reaches down to drop it in your bag, you wiggle away to let him search for the bottle of sunscreen. 

“Take your shirt off,” you say once you turn to face him. 

“Damn, woman. At least buy me dinner first.” 

“Can you get any cornier? You’re getting overpriced beer at best.” 

“...May your sky always be clear, may your dear smile always be bright and happy, and may you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart. Isn't such a moment sufficient for the whole of one's life–?”

Your attention snaps away from your book over a playful voice. “Hey, miss. Sorry to bother you.” Leon is standing a few steps in front of your chair, hands on his hips, most of his weight on one leg. Water drops cling to his firm chest, following a delectable path down his muscles. Some even caress his faded scars gently, a reminder that he has endured things far from gentle. His hair seems darker due to saltwater, the tips of it almost poking his eyes, by the looks of him having to shake them away from his face when he attempts to tilt his head to the side. “Are you perhaps single?” 

You purse your lips to suppress a grin. “Why are you asking?” 

“I’m interested.” 

“Oh,” you croon in mock-embarrassment. “I’m married.” You make sure to show off the gold band on your ring finger. 

He walks next to your chair. “Lucky guy. Speaking of, where is he?” His gaze lingers on your legs that are bent towards your chest, the book propped up on your knees. 

You close the book and play along. “He’s swimming.” 

“Is he a good swimmer?” 

“Yeah, his strokes are phenomenal.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Are we still talking about swimming?” 

You tilt your head to the side. “Why yes, is there a misunderstanding?” 

“No, no. Just making sure we’re on the same page here. Tell me more about him.” 

You gesture to the empty room on the foot of the sunchair. “Then you might want to sit here for a while. Maybe dry off?” 

“I’d love to keep you company until your husband shows up.” Leon sits sideways next to your feet, way too familiar for a ‘stranger.’ “What’s he like?”

“First of all, he looks a lot like you.” You press your lips together. This is ridiculous. “He’s also incredibly annoying.” When Leon gasps half-mockingly, you cast a sideways glance at him. “His jokes are really corny, he’s lucky I put up with them.” 

“That might hurt his feelings.” 

“Well, he’s not here.” 

He scrunches his eyebrows together, there’s a visible question mark in his blink. “My jokes are that bad?” 

“Aaand, the play is over.” You slap your knees lightly, sliding your feet towards Leon until your toes touch the side of his thigh. “We are not sharing the chair again. You’re still dripping.” 

A sluggish sigh escapes his lips. “Let me lean on you at least.” 

And before you can say no, Leon is relocating your hands from your knees, moving them by your wrists, placing your arms at your sides. He folds his own arms on top of your knees and rests his temple on them, hugging your knees to himself, looking off into the side. You could lean forward and bury your nose in his hair like this, inhale the sun and salt, let your lips linger, let him feel the ghost of a kiss for a change. Though he was always better at unprompted acts of affection, maybe because he didn’t think much of it. 

It’s peaceful—the secluded space you’ve managed to carve out for the two of you, despite the chaos of the crowded beach. It feels like a quiet world unto itself, hidden in plain sight amid a sea of distant faces, as if removed from everything around you. It’s strangely intimate. Minutes or hours pass, you can’t make out which, lost in the stillness. 

When Leon speaks, his thumb starts brushing your knee. “I can hear you think,” he murmurs, his voice low. What’s going on in that head of yours? 

“Will you tell me a truth?” you ask, almost in a whisper. 

Leon doesn’t lift his head up, lazy like a cat in the sun. Although his body reminds him to be on guard upon hearing a kid yell in the distance, his muscles twitch reflexively. “Why?” 

“For all of this to feel real.” Your eyes follow the slope of his nose, then the squished red cheek leaning on his forearm. The sunscreen you copiously put on his nose bridge couldn’t protect his skin. You can’t help but admire his long lashes, fluttering so prettily the action could make butterflies jealous. 

His answer surprises you. “I’m scared all the time.” 

“Of what?” 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” His thumb stops moving so he can squeeze your kneecap. “I’m scared that one day you’ll want us to go our separate ways. I’m scared that I will not be able to let you go. You know I wasn’t able to do it the first time around. I dread the day you won’t want to see my face again.” 

“Leon–” 

“Sometimes I get scared that something will happen to you and I will lose you.” 

It dawns on you then. The reason why you’ve been waking up to strong arms tangled around your waist for months. 

“Leon, nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

However, he’s still going on. “If you decide you’ve had enough, just let me know, okay? Don’t just up and leave.” 

Your throat constricts itself. You don’t know what to say to that. Part of you wants to do just that: up and leave. Not the way he means but in a way to escape his hold, step aside to mull it over and come up with a humane response. The fact that he couldn’t meet your eyes while saying all that leaves your heart with a dull ache, chest too heavy to even breathe. 

He finally looks up, expression unreadable. His eyes scour your face, searching for something. “Does it feel real now?” 

You swallow on nothing as you meet his eyes. Sure, you nod. It terrifies you how real it actually feels. 

Leon thinks he’s a genius for lowering the temperature of the air-conditioning while you were in the bathroom, carrying out your night routine. No, he didn’t have any malicious intent, not at all, he was just sweating a lot even after his shower. By the time you entered the bed in your pajamas, you suspected nothing, lifted the bedcover to join him. Your skin was glowing from all the products he couldn’t wrap his head around, your lips were shining clear. For a moment, he wanted to plant his mouth to your lips and taste the vaseline. 

He was aroused, which was not surprising considering the amount of sex you two had been having. It’s become so regular that he thinks he never had this much compatibility with anyone before. Goodnight, Leon, you murmured before gracing him with the sight of your back, voice so sweet he nearly whined out of desperation. He didn’t know why he waited for your breathing to fall steady, he’s been holding you in your sleep for a while now. Every morning you wake up before him and toss his arms aside, get the day started. 

When he’s sure that you’ve fallen asleep, he makes his move, drapes an arm around your waist, pressing his bare chest to your clothed back, spooning you. He’s careful not to wake you despite the evidence of his arousal resting against your ass. Normally, he would ignore it and take care of it in the morning but you make that impossible by squirming in your sleep. A few minutes pass by and he guesses the room must feel like an icebox to you, he knows you get cold quickly. Leon thinks he’s a genius because he could just wake you up and suggest warming you up. He also thinks he’s a fool because what if you don’t wake up, with all this squirming? He could move to the side and wait for the cold to do its own thing or he could just get up and go to the bathroom to rub one out. Or he could lower his boxers, do it right here. He’s positive you wouldn’t mind, that’s how intimate you two have become.  

Before he can decide, a shiver takes over your body, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Now Leon feels bad. He’ll just get up and fix the AC to an acceptable temperature. 

You shrivel into him, searching for warmth. The arm across your waist reaches up, the entirety of his hand cupping your breast that’s pressed against the bed. His body runs hot despite the breeze in the hotel room, so he thinks this will help. Just as a quiet, needy cry from your throat travels to his burning ears, his other arm snakes beneath your body to press against your belly. He squeezes you tightly until he can feel the blood pumping through your veins, buries his nose into the crook of your neck. Inhaling deeply bestows on him your enticing scent. 

Guilt washes over him as he ruts his hips into your sleep shorts, because who becomes an animal in heat when they smell clean soap? 

Leon. Leon does. 

The smallest things have been setting him off. All of your flimsy sundresses, swaying of your hips in them, your smooth legs, the gold anklet that matches with your wedding ring, the swimsuit that makes your cleavage call his attention. You, taking his arm while walking side to side. In fact, he suppressed smothering his face into your cheek today at lunch—cuteness aggression— as he tried to eat his food in peace. You were enjoying your pasta, humming contentedly after your first bite, you smiled at him when you caught him watching you intently. Leon was never into taking pictures but at that moment, he wanted to engrave the picture of you smiling up at him lovingly into his memory for the future, remember your crinkled eyes and adorably scrunched up nose when he would miss you. He knew he would miss that moment right when it was happening, he’d be gone again for an assignment soon. 

“What?” You laughed.

“That good?” he asked, eyes pointing to your bowl of pasta. 

“Yep! Want some?” 

Leon keeps clinging until your body twitches no longer, takes deep breaths against your neck, pleased as his heat completely stills you. His hold relaxes as he becomes aware of his grip strength. He releases his clamped fingers from your breast, stroking your nipple apologetically. It will surely leave a mark on your soft skin, which you will whine about later, though he knows deep down you enjoy him being rough with you. After all, it was you who brought up that you weren’t made of glass, he didn’t need to act as if you were going to break. 

Your soft sighs soothe him to an extent, as far as the strain in his boxers allow. Fuck it, he thinks. He’s still humping your backside, cock throbbing. He’s going to wake you up. Pounce on you once you open your eyes. 

Forefinger and thumb pinching a hardening nipple, he nuzzles his face into where your neck meets your shoulder, dropping heavy kisses first, then switching to sucking your skin. If he could drown in your smell, he would. “Honey, please wake up.” 

“Hm?” He hears you, heart starting to beat even faster. “Leon?” Your first touch is on his arms, fingertips ice cold, groggy voice calling to him. 

“You awake?” he breathes in your ear. 

Feeling tickled, your shoulder rises to your ear. “Clearly,” you reply hoarsely. His thigh is glued to the back of yours, reaching back to hold it, you manage to slow his movements. His erection is fully pressed against you. “Everything okay?” 

“No.” He pants in your hair. “Need to fuck you.” 

“Leon,” you groan, face dropping fully into your pillow. “I’m too tired.” 

“Please, you don’t need to do anything.” 

“Don’t think I can even lift my leg.” 

“Then don’t. I’ll do everything. Lift your hips for a second so I can get this off?” 

“Fine,” you huff, rolling onto your stomach so his strong-willed hands can strip off your shorts along with your underwear. “We don’t have lube.” 

He drops a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll just have to prep you.” 

Ugh, so sweet. “Make it quick,” you say as he carefully sits on the backs of your thighs, his knees trapping your legs together. “How do we do this?” 

“Stay still,” he mumbles, barely audible. You grow impatient as you hear him moving in the dark, taking off his only piece of clothing. He reaches over to the bedside drawer to turn on the lamp. The blanket is scattered across the bed. You hiss sharply, eyes adjusting to the soft light. 

He holds your shoulders firmly. “What’s wrong?” 

“Why is it so cold?” 

Somehow, you can hear him grinning behind you. “The AC’s broken.” 

“Have you tried calling the reception? It’s too cold for this.” 

“I’ll warm you up,” he says as his heat hovers over you, fingers hiking up your flimsy camisole to gain access to your waist, the other hand shaking off the thin straps. He buries his nose into the back of your neck, kissing a path to your right shoulder, sharp teeth grazing skin along the way. He shifts his attention to your left shoulder, reaching down to cup your ass, pulling apart your cheeks. His fingers find your sex straight away; he’s familiar with your body. 

“You’re a bit wet for someone who’s feeling too tired,” he teases. 

You don’t bother with pleasantries. “I will leave you blue-balled for the rest of the week.” 

“Right,” he says. “Lift your head up.” 

“I just woke up, you’re asking for too much from me.” 

He nudges his nose into the back of your ear instead of answering. Kiss me, he demands, pressing his hips to your plushness. Familiar with his silent commands, you submit to his reign, craning your neck back, open mouth chasing his. 

Your mouths clash unceremoniously. It’s messy, sloven, uncoordinated, and animalistic. He finds your tongue in no time, suckling on the wet muscle all the while managing to lift your shoulders off the bed to drop your thin straps around your elbows, pulling your camisole down. Now your top sits below your naked breasts, bunched around your middle like a thick headband. Leon’s jaw moves as if he’s thirsty, drinking from your mouth unapologetically. The noises from your so-called kissing are obscene, filling the room along with the sounds of heavy breathing. Heat starts to pool in your lower belly, body slowly warming up. 

Quick as a wink, a strong hand wraps around the back of your neck, pushing you face down to the mattress. Your surprised yelp into your pillow is cut short once he pulls your hair gently, laughing next to your ear. “Don’t want you to suffocate. Try to keep your head up. Can you do that for me, honey?” 

Rolling your eyes, you bite back a remark. Resting your cheek on the pillow is all he’s going to get. After all, he did tell you that you didn’t need to do anything. Your crushed breasts feel funny, one side aching considerably more than the other, owing to him groping it roughly while you were sleeping. 

Leon lets out a low chuckle and continues his undeterred path from your jaw to your neck, nipping at skin, leaving a stinging sensation behind. His knees make room for your squirming legs, a perfect chance for him to dip his hand between your thighs, a slight part of your legs to accommodate his fingers on your cunt. Rubbing your lower lips, he slicks his fingers with your wetness. 

Your breath hitches when two pads of fingers make contact with your clit, drawing tight circles. “That feel good?” His voice is muffled by your skin. 

You groan a noise of confirmation as he puts more pressure on his fingertips, quickening his movements on your now soaked pussy. His thumb catches at your entrance, maybe accidentally, and you can’t hold yourself back from pursuing that pleasure, back arching so your hips could sway up, chasing his touch. Thankfully, he is quick to place his thumb back, swiping back and forth. The double stimulation on your opening and clit creates enough lubrication for him to slide right in. 

Your eagerness doesn’t go unnoticed by Leon, the feel of his teeth on your earlobe is a wary appreciation. “Too tired, huh? Look at you.” He means your hips in the air, quivering right in front of his view. “Lemme help you relax.” 

You think he’ll finally thrust himself in, however, you’re taken by surprise when he works two fingers into you, the stretch unexpected, but appreciated nonetheless. He shoves your hips back down into the mattress, arm across the small of your back to keep you steady against the bed. “Don’t be disappointed. I need to open you up first,” he speaks into your temple, nose pressed to the tail of your eyebrow. He starts moving his fingers in and out. “Don’t want you to hurt.” 

He grabs a handful of your ass to pull apart while working your cunt open with his fingers. Your whole body feels electrified each time he strokes the velvety walls of your pussy, throat humming with need. 

“Leon…” you moan, wanting to arch into him. Your desperate hand slides under your belly to touch your clit. “Enough.” 

But that’s not what you want to tell him. You want to tell him this is not enough, he needs to be inside you right now or you will start to wail, turn over and jump his bones. This is quite the opposite from where everything started, with you worked up and fussy in his hands, unable to speak properly. 

You feel him watching his own hand between your legs, ears perked up for the sounds coming from where you are gushing, shallowing his thrusts once he feels your fingers join in. “Enough? You don’t want to come first?” 

“S’cold,” you cry out. “Fuck me already.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” he coos at you, pulling his soaked digits out of you, head rising to meet with your parted lips. The arm around your waist slides up, fingers gently digging into your scalp to hold you in place as he kisses you, using the fingers he just pulled out of you to slick up his cock. He moans into your mouth before pulling away. 

“You have me. Ready?” 

You nod into the pillow. 

As he presses his swollen tip into you, he watches the back of your head tip back with a shiver, your neck exposed for him to reach and grab. Instead, he wraps his arm around your neck in a gentle headlock, helping you rest your cheek on his bicep, the movement helping him slip further inside you. 

Hot, bullish breaths burrow into your neck when he is buried to the hilt, balls pressed against your clit and fingers that are spreading yourself. 

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he whispers, his torso meeting your back. 

He presses his entire weight down onto you and it is glorious, being trapped between him and the mattress, surrounded by his body heat with no room to flee. Not that you even consider it. Though your wrist, strained under the weight, digs into your pelvis as he begins to thrust feverishly. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts. 

Your mouth opens to let him know of the awkward position your arm is in but you only manage to moan wantonly. He takes it as a cue to snap his hips faster. 

“Wait, Leon—my wrist.” 

He stops completely, lifting his hips slightly for you to pull your arm out from underneath, dropping a kiss in your hair as an apology. “Fuck, sorry. Forgot your hand was there. Are you good? Am I too heavy?” 

Your hands fist around the sheets to brace yourself. He did not pull himself fully out of you, you just want him to fill you to the brim again. Even though you don’t know if you can come like this. “No, I’m good. Let’s continue.” 

As your wish comes true, his hips pick up a frenzied pace, the bed starts to shake. You don’t know how he manages it, you’re immobilized under him, high on the pleasurable feeling. Your poor nipples are chafing against the sheets with all the movement. The noises escaping your lips are embarrassingly loud, mingling with the creaky springs of the hotel bed. He doesn’t hold back either, sucking love-bites wherever his mouth can reach, moaning against your spit-lacquered skin. Palms sliding under your shoulders to hold you even closer, he squeezes you to himself while letting his weight push you hard into the mattress. 

It’s as if he wants to open up his chest and tuck you beneath his ribs, or crawl beneath your skin from behind, until you both become one. 

His pace falters, you squeak as he bottoms out, walls pulsing around him. He must have been desperately horny, for he is spitting out delirious things in your ear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— you look so cute. You always do.” 

“Huh?” 

Rather than addressing your confusion, he leans in your face. One hand cups your jaw, guiding your face to his, squishing your cheeks together until your lips are puckered, ready for him to attack, though it’s a pleasant assault of kisses. “You’re so—” Kiss. “Soft.” Kiss. “It makes me crazy.” Kiss. “And you always smell so good.” Kiss. 

“Leon, what’s gotten into you—mmph!” 

He doesn’t care about what you have to say about his raving state; instead, he crashes his lips to yours for a longer, deeper kiss. His strong arm hugs your neck again, cradling you to himself. You swallow his animalistic groan when your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling on the tresses while trying to squirm. His hair has gotten so long; a luxury of taking time off work. 

His hips start to grind, precise snaps eliciting small sounds out of both of you, his cock massaging your innermost crevices. 

“You’re like an angel,” he whispers in your mouth, panting wildly. “You feel like heaven. God, I love you. I can’t believe—shit, I’m close. I’m gonna come. Tell me where to come.” 

If he wasn’t literally in your face, you might have missed it—that sacred, dangerous word slipping past his lips as if it was an everyday occurrence. 

It didn’t even register at first, partly because it happened so quickly and partly because it made you clamp down on him with an intense ripple of pleasure, causing him to grunt. 

Losing all strength in your muscles, you sag against his arm on the pillow, neck too numb to keep your head up, feet plopping down with a pat. When did you lift your feet up? 

Like a snap of a thread, his demeanor changes instantly. Concerned, he brushes your hair away from your face hastily. “Baby, did you just come?” 

A sound resembling “yes” is murmured into your pillow, your whole body feeling prickly upon the fondness in his voice, spasming uncontrollably. He’s still inside you, reaching incredibly deep, hip bones digging into the meat of your ass, caging you in his warmth. 

“Didn’t even need me to touch your clit,” he says. There’s that smugness in his tone, like he didn’t just rock your whole world. 

Feeling fuzzy around the edges, you remember his need to have a release, and words rush out without much thought, “Inside. Come inside.” 

The faint rhythm of his hips turn sloppy upon hearing you. He’s gasping, “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m on the pill.” 

“Fuck. Thank you, baby.” 

His face finds home in your neck again. It’s not long before you feel the thick trickle of warmth filling you up. Coming to his senses, his arms loosen around you, waiting for his breathing to turn to normal. 

You can sleep like this, you think. With him literally in your skin, smothered under his delectable weight. It’s calming. 

Eventually, he pulls out and rolls over on his back, the absence of his weight feels oddly sad. He turns his neck towards you. “That was… something else. How are you feeling?” 

You stretch your arms, sliding them under your pillow. “Like I’ve just run a marathon. And I didn’t even move much.” 

“Now that you’re properly tired, you’re gonna sleep like a log.” He chuckles, throwing an arm on his forehead. 

You slide a hand between your legs, knitting your eyebrows, reconsidering. “We need to clean up first.” 

“Right,” he sighs. “I promised you I wouldn’t make you move, didn’t I? Wait here.”

Before you can say anything, he gets up from the bed, picks up his underwear from the ground and heads to the bathroom. You don’t move in case the viscid fluids threaten to leak onto the bed. He comes back with a few rolled-up toilet papers and a damp towel, with his underwear on. He sits on the edge of the bed next to you. 

You spread your legs as he holds up the rolled-up toilet papers to your dripping entrance. “Push it out.” 

You squeeze out the mixture of you and him. Your cheeks flare up, not because of embarrassment. But because of something else. Him instructing you with a raspy voice shouldn’t get you fired up, your limbs are still weak from the earth-shattering orgasm he pulled out of you, but your body reacts on its own volition. 

“I didn’t know you were on the pill,” he continues as he wipes down your sweat with the towel. 

“A recent development,” you say, eyes heavy with sleepiness. “Started it a while ago, I meant to tell you.” 

“That’s fine.” He cleans up the residue between your thighs lastly. The pressure of his touch is so careful, in case you’re overstimulated. “Honestly, I think I found out about it in the best way.” 

A small chuckle from you eases his heart. The image of you lying naked on your belly, your head turned to the side with bleary eyes is like a painting to him. He leans down and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. 

“Can I wake you up in the morning?” he mutters into your skin before hoisting your camisole to its place on your shoulders. 

You understand his implication. “Yeah, but no sooner than eight or I’ll be super cranky.” 

“We’ll miss breakfast.” 

“Breakfast or sex. The choice is yours.” 

“Room service it is.” 

Eventually, he finds your panties and shorts under the blankets, lifts them up over your hips, and finishes dressing you.

You give him a smile, fingers resting on your lips as you ponder. “I have something to ask you.”

“I know,” he replies, too quickly. He’s aware of the things he’s just said. “I know you want to talk about it. But I feel awful for disturbing your sleep. You’re tired. We can talk all you want in the morning. Just know that I meant it.” 

“C’mere,” you whisper, rolling onto your side to reach out to him.

This time, it’s Leon who seeks warmth, succumbing to the balmy caress of your hand as you pull him in.

The kiss is too soft, too fragile, and he wants it to linger forever. 

He’s offended when you pull away abruptly. But that feeling is short-lived as you turn your head away to sneeze twice. “Bless you,” he says. 

Deep down inside, remembering he changed the settings of the AC, he rolls his eyes at himself. He gets up and turns it off, throwing the soiled toilet papers in the trash on his way. “I’ll call the reception the first thing tomorrow.” 

Leon is insatiable. 

The first things he notices when he opens his crusty eyes is his morning wood and the deep red hues scattered across the back of your neck in front of his face. Wiping the sleep from his eyes with one hand—the other arm trapped under your neck—he presses himself to your backside. A repeat of what started everything. 

He retracts after letting out a low growl into your hair, only to roll you on your back by your shoulders. You’re still asleep, muscles all soft and pliant under his maneuvering. So pretty, he thinks. The tiny flutter of your eyelashes casts soft, quivering shadows on the apples of your cheeks as warm sunlight streams into the room through a narrow gap in the curtains. Hovering over you between your legs, he cups your face, thumbs caressing the dainty shadows. His breaths fan your face as a gentle nudge to your slumber. 

“Baby…” he croaks, voice all ragged from hours of disuse over the night. 

Even in your sleep you seek out his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, rousing something carnal in him. His lips get to work on your throat briskly, sucking the delicate skin, humming against it. 

He feels the vibrations of the mellow sound your throat gives out against his lips and continues the path down to your clavicle, leaving ruddy blemishes behind. Rubbing up and down on your thighs, his palms curve behind the backs of your knees, bending them to spread your legs completely open against the bed. He presses his hard-on to your center. 

Your cunt must be sore, he’ll kiss it better. 

He mouths at the tops of your breasts, palms fondling them up in his face. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, though you’re too drowsy to hear. 

His head slips down the blanket, your cover slides down your body as it gets caught on his broad back, opening an airway for him. 

He starts littering kisses on the inside of your thigh, beginning from your knee and continuing the path up to your groin, pulling back each time his nose touches the verge of your panties. He looks up expectantly to see you stir. Because once he sees you awake, he’ll devour you. 

You are stirring, head lolling in an attempt to turn on your side. Leon’s hands quickly clamp down on your thighs, “Nuh-uh.” He denies you, keeping your hips still. His mouth switches to your other thigh, repeating his ministrations. 

His teeth graze the edge of your underwear. Your leg twitches under his touch, which further encourages his sudden urge. 

Blunt teeth sink into the soft, supple flesh of your inner thigh. 

That seems to wake you up as your head jerks, hand flying to his hair between your legs under the blanket. “Ow.” 

“Morning.” His tongue darts out to soothe the dull ache. 

With heavy eyelids, you crane your neck to assess the situation. His lips are slick and plump from all the kissing and biting. “Mhm. Good morning.” Yawning, you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, the other one cards through Leon’s hair lazily. As your grip tightens, you drop your head back to the pillow to blink away the haziness. 

The sounds of his lips smacking against your skin are accompanied by the fan noises filling the room. You realize you’re no longer sweating like you were through the night, when the broken air-conditioning left you sweltering—or would have had you freezing if it were actually running. You’re confused. “AC’s working again?” 

You feel him smiling against your thigh. “Yeah. Called the reception and everything.” 

“What was wrong with it?” 

“I’m literally in between your legs and that’s what you wanna know? Like, right now?” He nuzzles your underwear, placing a kiss on your clothed center to stress his frustration, which you reply with a startled whimper. 

“First, I risked frostbite and then sweated like it was hell. Of fucking course I wanna know the reason of my suffering.” 

“You didn’t suffer,” he says in a jeering tone, fingers hooking under your panties to peel them off. He’s quick to get rid of that obstructive piece of fabric. “I’d say I took pretty good care of you.” 

You roll your eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah—world’s best husband or whatever, keeps waking me up because he’s horny.” 

“Hey, you said breakfast or pussy and I made my choice.” 

He licks a path up from your entrance to your clit, your hips jump. He grips your thighs and slings them over his shoulders. 

“I did not say that.” Words slurred, your eyes close upon the honeyed sensation. 

“Something along those lines,” he mumbles, lips brushing against the sensitive little bud of nerves. 

You kick the blanket off his back so he doesn’t suffocate under the heat. The slight temperature change makes your hips jerk up to his face, his morning stubble scratches the insides of your thighs deliciously. He drapes an arm across your abdomen to keep you steady. His other arm tugs on the thigh slung over his shoulder, only slightly, to make room for his head. 

Two fingers brush your slit, spreading apart slowly to gain access to your most sensitive parts. It’s still a little tender and swollen that when his hot breath fans across the sensitive flesh, your legs try to shut instinctively. His hold grows stronger to remind you not to squash his head. He licks a broad swipe up your slit and looks up at you through his long lashes. 

You can’t help but moan. He looks so pretty like this. 

Leaning forward, he places a kiss directly on your clitoris, the soft smack sound sends a hot burn to your ears. 

He parts his lips to suck your sensitive clit into his mouth, your back arches as you gasp. His plump lips pull on the taut flesh, making you writhe against the sheets. Now aware of your fist that was bunching the sheets this whole time, you let go to join it with your other hand in his hair.  

He’s always liked your hands in his hair, petting it, tugging at it, pulling it to steer him to where you need him most, he loves it all. He moans as you make a mess of his soft tresses, sending jolts of vibrations up your body. 

Relaxing his tight jaw with a wet pop, he quickly drops a kiss to the juncture of your thigh and begins to lap up your dripping mound like a starved man. 

“Leon!” Your back arches again, hands buried in his hair pressing his face firmly between your legs. You’re not sure if he can even breathe with your thighs caging him. You don’t care, he’ll tap you if he wants to take a breather. 

Blindly, the hand that keeps your slit open slides up to your chest, to push between the valley of your breasts. You clutch your palm on the back of his hand, fingers slotting between his. He squeezes his hand once. I’m alright, it means. He keeps your intertwined hands there. 

His face burrows deeper into your slick, thrusting his tongue into your hole in and out. Nose pressed against your clit, he hums contentedly and starts wiggling his head, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. 

The gasps that fall from your lips fuel him, he drags his tongue back up to your sensitive bud, flicking up and down with only one goal in his mind. 

Up and down. Suck. Up and down. Suck. 

“Too much, ‘s too much!” You repeat with a shaky voice. But you are insatiable too, with the way you guide his hand to your tit, encouraging him to squeeze tight. 

“I know, baby, I know. Just tell me when,” he rasps, trying to keep up with your bucking hips. Groping your breast under your pressing palm, he can’t quite reach to your shoulder to lower the straps of your top, though his fingers find your taut nipple through the fabric and start to draw circles around the pebbled peak. 

His stubble burns your thighs so good it only drives you more crazy. Your droopy eyes lock with his determined ones, mouth hanging open in a silent moan, hand brushing away the hair on his forehead. 

He tightens his tongue and places the tip of it right on your sensitive clit, wriggling the wet muscle in a snake-like fashion, and listens to your moans. Each roll of his tongue is a sweet torment, delivering sparks of pleasure to your quivering body. 

“That’s not—ah!—that’s not fair.” 

His mouth never leaving your pussy, he hums questioningly. “Mm?” The short syllable vibrates through your core, making you fussier. 

What’s not fair? His hips grinding into the mattress? The hand that previously held you down now slipping under his boxers to rub his slick, swollen tip? Fairness is not even the last thing on his mind right now. He’s too drunk on your essence, happily suffocated between your legs, unaware of the fast pace his hand picks up on his cock. He’s fully pumping himself. 

You also know you’re not making any sense. A hot blush warms your chest, travels up your neck to your ears, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. Your body is screaming for release, of course you don’t have any idea what you are blabbering about. 

Feeling your clit pulse beneath his tongue, he waits to hear your staccato breathing, waits for the tumble of unintelligible words to fall on his ears. 

“Leon, I’m… I’m—ah, fuck!” 

Just before the intense wave of pleasure comes crashing down on you, he tears his mouth away from you, panting for oxygen. 

“No, please,” you cry out. “Don’t be mean.” 

Not wanting to deny you stimulation, he gets to work on your tit and gives it a firm squeeze for good measure before returning his fingers to your aching nipple. He toys with it, flicking, pressing down, pinching through fabric. You whine softly through it all, trying to wrap your trembling legs tighter around his head so he could return to what he was doing before. 

“Please, I was about to come…” 

“I know, honey, I’m sorry. I needed to breathe.” He plucks at your nipple, rolling it before returning to your sex. 

This time he alternates between kitten licks and soft kisses on your clit, meant to be soothing. It feels as if he’s grazing a feather on your oversensitive, swelled up nerves. It’s so ticklish that your hips jump to chase after the phantom itch. 

That’s all it takes for the overwhelming waves of pleasure to come crashing down on you. The coil in your belly snaps. Eager as ever, he presses his open and panting mouth against your cunt, moaning against the spasming flesh. Cleaning up the remnants of your climax is only a poor excuse for his lips to linger. He presses a kiss to your thigh before pulling away from between your legs, the slick coating his mouth and chin leaves your skin damp. 

Taking a deep breath, he rises to sit on his knees between your thighs. Your legs drop from his shoulders. Pride fills his chest once he eyes up the litter of love-bites on your flushed skin. His doing. The rapid rise and fall of your chest. Also his doing. 

Through a fucked-out smile, you say, “What? What’s so funny?” 

Unaware that he’s cheesing, he shakes his head. “Nothing, honey. You look so pretty.” 

“I feel nasty, though.” 

He shuts you up with a kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Mm… How about you?” you mumble into the kiss while ruffling his soft hair. 

His hips are grinding against his hand in a faint rhythm, palm stroking up and down slowly. He huffs. “Keep spreading your legs and it won’t take long.” 

Discerning the questioning raise of your brow, he swipes a thumb at the corner of your lip. “I’m not gonna put it in. I know you’re sensitive, baby. Trust me. Please?” 

You wiggle a bit to open your legs further, trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed because the way he kept pinning you has you feeling sores on your butt. “Yeah, okay.” 

Lining himself up against your slit, he hovers his cock above your puffy cunt and keeps stroking. He groans and bucks into his hand, head falling backwards. You whimper and bunch the sheets in your fists. He looks so hot. His hair is chaotically messy, lips swollen and slick, hand working desperately on his cock. Your pussy flutters at the sight. 

Eyes zeroing in on your center, he says, “Show me. Hold yourself open.” 

You reach down and spread yourself for him, shamelessly displaying what he wants. Your hole clenches down on nothing upon the little stretch, pulling another groan out of him. 

He’s grinning, head tilted to the side. “Fuck, that’s it. Like what you see, huh?” 

You nod fast, staring at the movement between your legs. It’s captivating. 

Feeling devious, you lift your hips slightly to touch your pulsing clit to his red tip, directly to his precum-coated slit. Like a featherlight kiss. It sends a pleasurable shock through your entire body, you plop down on the bed again. 

“Oh shit—you…” His expression tells you he’s very close.

Gripping your thigh, he jerks himself to completion against your twitching pussy. Thick spurts of cum coat your center and belly, your thighs get to have their fair share, too. 

A breathless laugh escapes him, like he can’t quite believe what just happened. His gaze softens, as though clearing a daze. “I’m sorry. Let me carry you to the bathroom.”

A quiet shift lingers in the air. 

He’s so silent while massaging shampoo into your hair, cocooned by your arms around his waist, water cascading over his back. His lips are set in a straight line, eyes roaming your face and coming back to meet your gaze every once in a while. 

You and him, in that sacred, safe haven again. 

I can hear you think. He wills you to speak without saying the words. 

“You don’t need to be scared.” 

His hands pause in your hair. Of what? 

“The things you said at the beach yesterday… You don’t need to be scared, Leon. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you,” you continue. 

He pulls you closer, cups the back of your neck and rests your head on his shoulder. I love you. 

“And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing your face. I miss it terribly when you’re away.” You nudge his neck with your nose. 

He closes his eyes. I love you. 

“Tell me a truth?” you whisper, watching the slow up and down of his Adam’s apple. 

The urge to draw you even closer to himself is too strong. Come, live inside my skin—I’m yours, anyway. Instead, he opens his heavy-lidded eyes, locking his gaze with yours. 

“I love you.” 

With a slow and languid kiss, he seals his lips to yours, weaving your souls together in that tranquil, infinite moment. 

“At times I think of human relationships as something soft like sand or water, and by pouring them into particular vessels we give them shape.”

― Sally Rooney, Beautiful World, Where Are You

[comatosebunny09]

risky | sylus

warning(s): cheating, p-in-v, female anatomy described, cunnilingus, hurt feelings, mutual pining, emotional sex, profanity, praise, not proofread, sylus is ooc & 🐱 drunk notes: i'm stuck on the dancer au, so here you go. i'm sorry, i'm not sorry. thank you for reading! ❤️❤️❤️ music inspo: die with a smile - lady gaga & bruno mars

“This is wrong,” you pant.

Yet you make no effort to fend him off as he hefts you onto your kitchen counter. How easily he slots himself between your thighs, tugging you closer by the crooks of your knees, and he siphons your breath with a kiss that leaves you reeling.

Breaking the seal of your mouths, he drags his lips down your chin, the side of your jaw. Open-mouthed, teeth scraping, nipping, claiming.

“I know.”

You don’t pose a fight when his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt, and he tugs it overhead, discarding it somewhere on your tiled floor. His mouth is on you in an instant once more, drawing pathetic little whimpers from betwixt your lips.

Your hands roost on his shoulders. You’re angling your head back, eyes shuttered, lips parted. Bowing into him, the hard press of his body grazing along the pucker of your nipples.

You don’t know if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer. You want him to stop, but you don’t in the same breath. This game of push and pull is dizzying, much like the heat he exudes and the reverent glide of his hands along your skin.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” pinched from your lungs when his teeth acquaint themselves with your neck.

“I know.”

Your fingers find his hair. You comb through riotous locks of white, your mind a muddled mess, trained only to sensations and the sounds of his labored breaths intermingling with yours.

“It’ll destroy her if she finds out,” you say.

As if you both don’t know what’s at stake. The repercussions of being together like this when all he’d wanted to do was return your shoes to you.

Sylus halts his assault on your throat. He draws back slightly, eyes lidded, irises smoldering like the sunset against the ocean line. His mouth hangs open as he pants, brows furrowed. He looks something like a spoiled child, and you bite back an impulse to snicker at how adorable he is in this moment.

He presses your foreheads together, gazing down at your lips. Fights an internal battle of his own as you knead his scalp, his thumbs easing over the crease of your thighs.

“I know.” A hint of anguish resides in his husky voice. Regret swims in the under-notes. But he’s too far gone.

You both are.

And you know there’s no turning back when he hauls you into his arms again after a beat of searching each other’s eyes. Wraps your thighs around his hips, and your arms unconsciously snake around his shoulders. You pepper his neck and jaw with frantic kisses whilst he walks you to your bedroom.

Once inside, he tenderly lays you amongst your sheets, and he’s silhouetted by the coppery glow of the moon when he pitches back to rid himself of his shirt.

He’s reminiscent of something beastly when he prowls over you. Pelvis fits like a jigsaw piece between your legs, and he sweeps in to kiss you anew.

He ruts himself against the apex of your thighs. Growls low and throaty into your mouth. You don’t deter him, your heels finding the divots of his back, stitching him to you.

Sylus drags his lips southward towards your collarbones, and you ruck your hips up against him, tossing your head back when he finds a pebbled nipple and licks it into his mouth. He pays the same homage to the other, and his eyes find yours through the lustful haze of your bedroom.

You can’t look away when he eases down the sprawl of your body. Kisses and licks, tastes and samples. Tugs your sweats and panties down as he settles his face between your legs. And he kisses the inner curve of your thighs, trailing lips at a snail’s pace to the place you crave him most.

You tangle your fingers in his hair. Nod at the silent question his gaze poses, and he needs no further goading when he spreads you nice and open with a flattened tongue.

Your legs quiver, thighs mechanically locking around his ears, your head pitched back in the pillows. He takes his time drawing his name from your lips. And you sing so beautifully for him, that sparkling rush of endorphins slowly brewing between your thighs.

You’re bereft of his mouth when he’s had his fill. When he’s brought you near that slurry edge, but he doesn’t keep you waiting. He peers down at you through his hair that’d fallen into his eyes, sluggishly undoing his belt buckle and the buttons of his trousers.

You watch with bated breath from your elbows. Suck in a breath when he reveals himself, and he’s heavy and swollen and red, his dick bouncing against his abs.

You lick your lips. He’s beautiful. Just like you always imagined he’d be. And somewhere far off, you wonder if she’s seen him like this and pondered the same.

You don’t get more time to mull over it before Sylus grips your thigh, the fat of it cratering between his fingers. He bites his bottom lip as he stickily taps his dick against the milky mess of your pussy.

There’s one final question in his gaze. One last offering, one more out. You don’t contest him. You’ve both come this far. You might just die without having him inside you tonight.

He feeds himself into you. Inch by delicious inch. Catches himself on his hands propped near either side of your head, and he releases a relieved hiss. He feels so good pushing into you like that. Filling you. You wonder what your life was like prior to this point, so drunk off the feel of him nestled deep.

You share a breath out when he’s fully slid home. He bows forward, burying his face into the hollow of your shoulder. You welcome him with open arms. Cross your ankles behind his pelvis, and he knows that he’s done for.

Once you’ve adjusted to his girth, he moves. Slow and steady like the gentle drag of a tide, eliciting pretty sighs of his name from your mouth. Graduates into something more intense, the clop of skin on skin saturating the darkened air of your room.

“You feel so good,” he sighs, all hot, wet, and choppy against your neck.

You can do nothing but moan in reply, sinking your nails into his shoulder blades.

He fucks you like he’ll never see you again. Whispers the sweetest, most vile things against the shell of your ear, and the hot rush of tears spring to your eyes.

Vaguely, you wonder if he’s fucked her like this. If he calls her his good girl, too. If he says he can’t imagine a life without her at his side. That he was so fucking stupid for thinking he could ever give her up.

As a tear scorches down the side of your face, that sparkling rush of ecstasy brews between your legs. And he feels it, too, groaning like a wanton slut through grit teeth as your walls quake around him.

He peels back from the safety of your shoulder to gaze into your eyes. Twines your fingers together overhead, his hips moving purely on instinct now. Your throat constricts around a silent sob, molten tears sliding unbidden down your face.

His mouth parts as you cum, and the world slides into white. You drag him into his own release, hot spurts of cum painting the inner trajectory of your thighs.

When you float back into your skin and breathe, you erupt into a fit of giggles intermingled with sobbing. He laughs alongside you, pressing your foreheads together, settling his weight atop you. His fingers smooth along your cheeks, swiping away your tears, and he stipples your face with apologetic kisses.

And somewhere in the onslaught—maybe it’s your brain all saturated with endorphins playing tricks on you—you could swear you heard him mutter,

I love you.

Sunlight creeps through the slits of your blinds. Bathes the pair of you in yellow, candied stripes, and you stir in the arms wrapped so tenderly around your middle.

Wordlessly, you creep from his embrace, wrapping yourself in a throw you’d snatched from your armchair.

You try to tip-toe to your bathroom to prepare for your day—you’ve got another gig/mission tonight, and you intend to spend the afternoon scoping out the venue—but his raspy voice halts your escape.

“Stay here,” he says, tugging at one end of the throw.

You turn to face him, truly incriminated, and the sight of him makes your chest swell. He’s half-awake, hair unruly, eyes heavy with sleep. Unguarded but needy, and he’s propped on an elbow, giving you a beseeching look.

“Stay with me a little while longer. Please.”

You relent with a forlorn smile curving your lips. Silently crawl back into bed with him, his arms instinctively winding around your hips, tugging you back against the hard press of his body. He settles his chin into the trough of your shoulder, murmuring something incoherent before falling silent.

There’s no harm in staving off the day a little longer. You don’t want to disrupt the spell the night cast over you, and there’s no telling when you’ll get another opportunity like this with him again.

He’ll have to face her—confront this web of muddled feelings—eventually. But you’ll gratefully stay in the circle of his arms like this until that moment comes.

limerence | masterlist

[blockedbykei]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇)

🏐 — tsukishima kei x f!reader

— synopsis: something about the stars has always intrigued tsukishima, how even in the dusk of the night, the brighest star would light up the world and burn itself in the process. he also didn't know what to do when that star had turned into the person who seemed to make his days just a little bit better.

— warnings: nothing much, except angst. just soft yet also mean tsukishima who doesn't know what to do with those feelings of his. maybe he's a little ooc. based on "andromeda" by weyes blood.

stars, so miniscule, so far away from his touch, so beautiful even with the stygian waters that it swims on.

every night, after practice, tsukishima would walk his lethargic body home with his headphones in his ears, his neck bent backwards it could snap. but he didn't care, he wanted to watch the stars move and follow him.

he wanted to watch all the dead stars who shined the brightest, the stars that had turned into supernovas, the stars that are created. and he felt at peace— the soft rhythm and reverb of the song humming in his ears, and the stars that lead him home.

and occasionally, adding to his visual and auditory senses, a sweet drink on the palate of his tongue made his evenings better.

tonight was no different.

he had just bid his goodbye to his teammates, although timidly and without masking that annoyance he'd always bore against the little tangerine boy who always had a little too much energy.

tsukishima begins his journey, using the stars as his map, putting his hands in his pockets. yamaguchi hadn't joined him for tonight. actually, he hasn't joined him in a while, always walking yachi home, using her "safety" as an excuse (it really was the reason, but obviously there was another one).

still, he didn't mind the absence of his friend.

anri's soft doo-wop brings pleasantries in his ears as the song begins. his fingers tap inside the pocket of his gym shorts. he looks up at the night sky and connects his own constellations. tsukishima wonders if those stars ever know that they're being admired by millions of people in this planet, even if they'd died billions of years ago.

as a child, he used to think that the stars were the meteors that had killed his beloved dinosaurs. and every night, he would refuse to look up. but then akiteru, despite finding humor in his little brother's childish belief, had decided to tell him the difference between meteors and stars. and then added more information about those stars.

so now tsukishima loved three things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, and stars.

his feet patter softly on the cobblestone that serves as a pathway to his home, the cool air drying the sweat off his temples and cooling his back, which reminds him to wipe his sweat when he gets home before he showers to avoid getting sick.

and then he suddenly comes in contact with a small body.

just outside of sakanoshita market, tsukishima's chest bursts in sudden (but light) pain from the person's elbow. and that person had emit a small noise of surprise and pain, stumbling backwards.

tsukishima was just about to snap, tell the person to look where they had been going and call them an idiot when his eyes met yours.

they're wide, irises darkened from the night's haze, and you're clutching your elbow, headphones askew. you rub the soft skin, a small pout on your lips and tsukishima wonders how painful was it for you to pout like this.

then you look at him and he feels the air stuck in his throat.

pretty.

"oh! sorry. i didn't mean to bump into you." you bow in front of him, hands pliant at your sides. tsukishima's at lost for words, lips only parted and looking at you. he still hasn't said anything when you bring yourself back up again.

"it's- it's okay." he finally stammers out, pausing his music and moving his headphones off from one ear. "sorry for not looking either." tsukishima bows slightly, just tilting the top half of his body.

you smile lightly at him, hanging your own headphones around your neck, scanning his figure. he suddenly feels shy under your curious gaze, watching as you read the print on the left side of his chest.

"karasuno...? ka-karasuno! i go there," you laugh lightly, like that discovery was the greatest news you'd ever heard. "i don't think i've seen you around. well, maybe because i'm new. i'm such a dumbass."

though the last sentence being a whisper, tsukishima contradicts: "n-no. i haven't seen you around either." he takes one step forward towards you, didn't expect himself to be nearer than he'd planned. "tsukishima kei."

you tell him yours in a polite manner, with a smile so bright you'd beat the stars that hover both of your bodies. "you're part of the volleyball club, aren't you?"

he hopes you don't see his wavering blush in the dim lights. "yes."

"cool! what position?"

"middle blocker."

"that's so cool," you face him, neck bent upwards to meet his eyes, hands forming into excited fists in front of you, like how hinata would get enthusiastic about something. "you're really tall. i bet, i mean if you could, you'd hit the streetlights when you jump."

that theory piques his curiosity. his eyebrows raise. "i haven't given it a thought. i will try it soon though." tsukishima finally removes his headphones and leaves them around his neck. he points to the bag in her hands. "what'd you buy?"

"chocolate milk. ukai-chan is your coach, right?"

"how'd you know?"

"i see him enter the gym everyday after classes. he owns this store," your head motions behind you. "can you tell him his mom is a little mean? i actually preferred it when he was watching over the store."

tsukishima smiles a little. "can't. he's our coach. he might actually drop us for his store."

your laugh may be brighter than anything else in existence.

"okay, well, see you around tsukishima-san." you smile at him, the pearls of your teeth glinting in the moonlight, the whiskers of your eyes denote the glee you've obtained from him and tsukishima softens just a little. you wave at him and walk past him.

he turns around, and even though your back was to him, his hand lifts and waves at you.

tsukishima walks home happier than he expected, a small smile lingering on his face.

🏐 —

"who you looking for, tsukki?"

yamaguchi serves his friend a teasing smile, holding the tray carefully in his hands. tsukishima looks down at his friend and deadpans:

"shut up, yamaguchi."

"sorry tsukki."

they sit down on the table hinata and kageyama sit on, the two bantering quite loudly on which flavored milk was the best and is advisable to increase their energy. kageyama says: "banana, you dumbass."

hinata argues that: "it's chocolate! it makes people hyper for a reason. could you watch your language?!"

tsukishima and yamaguchi sit beside each other, their backs to the window of the cafeteria, which meant that tsukishima has a view of the entire room, his height being an advantage despite the large crowds.

he blindly brings his bento out of his box, his eyes never leaving the heedless crowd. yamaguchi, ever the curious, most specifically the friend who always wondered what it is that ran through tsukishima's mind, asked again: "seriously, tsukki, who are you looking for?"

tsukishima huffs. "just sawamura-san. i need a-advice. on my blocks." the lie slips easily off his tongue that yamaguchi can't decide between believing him or forcing the truth out of him.

but tsukishima is slightly disappointed that even after five minutes, he still can't see the color of your hair amidst the throng of students. though his face might say otherwise (rbf), he can't help but feel a little sad.

maybe the star isn't shining so bright today.

he pokes and prods at the vegetables placed on top of his rice, stabbing the carrot and shoving it in his frowning mouth. he doesn't notice that hinata has been observing– no, looking at him. because hinata was never the type of person who could be discreet.

"stingyshima, you look sad," he doesn't know if it's a tease or not, but maybe it is. "is he looking for someone, yamaguchi?"

"i don't know," he shrugs. "he says he's looking for sawamura-san."

"he's right there," kageyama jabs his finger behind him, seeing daichi in line for the cafeteria food. "your blocks haven't been good? figured."

"sorry if i haven't lived up to your standards, king." tsukishima sneers. yamaguchi and hinata laugh, kageyama burning in his seat.

eating his lunch ended quite faster than he thought it would, and soon he finds himself walking along the hallway of the school building waiting for the remaining free time to end. so his boredom drags his feet towards the nearest vending machine.

the device on his ears blocked out all the haze and noise of the world, which left him in his own environment. it eased the nerves that trickled along his veins, rubbed the tension off his shoulders. in his own milieu, he could think whatever and say whatever and do whatever.

just like how stars form themselves however they please, explode and die whenever they want to. tsukishima didn't have better knowledge of stars than he knew of dinosaurs, but it was his own thought and he had the freedom to think whatever it is (although of course, with just a little bit of accuracy and validity).

tsukishima's eyes scan the plastic divisions for the sight of any strawberry drinks. when they land on one, he types the number and slips the cash in. the conveyor belts begin to twist.

but much to his dismay, when the drink was pushed, it never fell.

he tuts in frustration, his head falling backwards to release a tired, irritated sigh.

and then you pop up beside him.

tsukishima jumps lightly when he sees you put your head out and smile at him, clutching his heaving chest. somehow, your laugh had managed to drown out the song in his ears; he doesn't mind though. he thinks your smile was the most beautiful orchestra ever conducted.

he puts his headphones around his neck. "they're incredibly annoying, aren't they?" you smile up at him. "here, i'll help you."

suddenly, you begin to violently shake the vending machine. tsukishima almost feels embarrassed for you, but the lack of audience has rid that feeling. you, with your height, looked like a child angrily throwing a tantrum and had transferred your anger towards an object.

nonetheless, adorable.

finally, the strawberry drink fell down, and you squat to pick it up from the port to give it to him. tsukishima takes it from you and says: "thank you."

"no problem!" you beam at him. "i was actually looking for you earlier. i couldn't see you. did you eat at your classroom?"

tsukishima removes the plastic of his straw. "no. i was at the cafeteria." he doesn't want to admit he's looking for you too, but he hopes you can see it in his eyes.

(you don't. to you, he looked uninterested and entertained at the same time. very hard to read)

"aw, alright. well, i was just wondering if you'd like to, uh, switch emails?" you're shy and he finds it amusing. "not switch like i use yours and you use mine, but switch like i take yours and you take mine... so we could text each other..."

he wants to say that he knows, he's not dumb. but you– your eager eyes of softness look up at him and he forgets how to be so cruel and cold. like you were the kind of fire to melt the falling snowflakes. tsukishima nods.

"sure." he pulls his phone out with one hand from his pocket and hands it to you. you take it and give your phone to him, and it felt smaller in his hands.

when you exchange phones again, there's shyness written across your face. tsukishima can't help but blush with the way the sun kisses your skin the way it would to tainted windows– radiating colors so beautiful he can't help but simply be at awe towards you.

a star is created somewhere far away. tsukishima's heart skips a beat.

"i was actually looking for you, too. earlier." he admits, putting his phone back in his pocket. "i couldn't see you. sorry."

"don't be sorry!" there goes that smile again, always making his heart flip. "we both struggled anyway."

"do you want anything?" he points to the vending machine. "chocolate? banana? strawberry?"

"can i try yours first?"

tsukishima pauses, the straw in his mouth just finishing his sip. there's innocence in your eyes that riles him up the wall in ludicrous ways. he slowly takes the straw out between his lips and hands it to you, with you greedily taking it from him before his hand met you halfway.

he swears he could've been redder than any other person in the world when you so shamelessly put his straw in your mouth.

should i be worried about the germs or the fact that we kind of just kissed but not really?

when you sip, you swallow and he can see your brain ponder on what decision you were going to make. you hand it back to him and say: "yeah, i like that one, too."

how could you act like you didn't just drink from his straw?

tsukishima gets you one, this time without shaking the vending machine and hands it to you.

"thank you." you say, your smile adding to your gratitude.

though it seems as if time has reached its end and a familiar sound rings across the hallway that reminds the both of you that the free time was over. tsukishima sees your pout but you don't directly show it to him.

"well, see you around, tsukishima!" you wave goodbye to him, walking away.

tsukishima stands still, staying at his place. his drink was no longer cold, the condensation dripping down his fingers.

somehow, the colors are brighter, the drink was sweeter, the tension from his body had disappeared, and everything else felt lighter. and even if you were no longer standing in his proximity, that luster you left behind etched itself to him.

you were now his new environment.

🏐 —

you. hi tsukishima! 3:13pm

when his phone dings, he places his waterbottle to his side, tuning out the sound of squeaking shoes and bouncing balls. he sees your name on the screen. he doesn't hesitate to text back.

tsukishima. Hi. 3:13pm

his palms sweat from simply typing that greeting. but his heart seems to beat faster and his chest feels light. he didn't expect that you'd text right away. nevertheless, he feels elated to see you text him.

you. didnt see u at the gates earlier during dismissal, do u have training today? 3:15pm

tsukishima. Yes. 3:15pm

you. oh really? until what time? 3:18pm

tsukishima. 7. 3:18pm

you. okay! thats kind of tiring haha. 3:20pm

tsukishima. It is. 3:20pm

he winces at the possible tone he may deliver, so he adds:

tsukishima. Haha. 3:20pm

"bruh, you text so lame."

it seems that tanaka had been peaking over his shoulder as the conversation ensued. tsukishima hugs his phone to his chest and glares at him. "that's invasion of privacy."

"and that's how to lose a girl," he points at his phone. "you text like you're so uninterested."

yamaguchi looks at the two. "who's tsukki texting?"

"some girl named, uh,–"

"no one." tsukishima snaps. "no one."

"oh, it must be the one tsukishima was looking for earlier," hinata runs– or skips towards them. "stingyshima flirting? i wonder how you look like. i'm smart, but i won't tell you that i'm a smartass because i wanna impress you with my blocking skills. i'm so cool and so tall."

tsukishima hates how hinata mimics him. he bites back. "oh, i'm hinata. i'm so small."

much to his dismay, even sugawara had joined in. "you could tell her that, you know, i'm so tired. but i'm drinking water so that's good enough for me already."

he responds with respect, though dripping his annoyance. "sugawara-san, please don't mimic me."

his phone vibrates again, and everyone else leans in to look. tsukishima snarls and moves away from them, clutching his dear phone to his chest.

you. any chance we could drink later? 3:27pm

you. not alcohol, of course. just milk or juice, or a shake, even yogurt. although, we can't drink yogurt... 3:27pm

tsukishima feels yamaguchi peer over his shoulder, and he knows its him because of that distinct smell of his. he doesn't hide the phone away even when yamaguchi says: "she's asking you out! go!"

"calm down, yamaguchi."

he shakily types his response.

tsukishima. Sure. By the store again? 3:27pm

three dots, he's awaiting for your response.

you. okay! see you there :) 3:28pm

🏐 —

his practice ends at 7 on the dot. tsukishima has never left faster in his life.

though he was always the first to leave, bidding them goodbye before walking his way home. this was different– his goodbye bore that sense of urgency with a twinge of excitement as he clumsily slipped his regular shoes on, walking as fast as he could away from the school campus.

coach ukai had actually offered that they go back to the store together, but tsukishima was in a rush.

it was an eight minute walk to the store. he got there in five.

you were no longer wearing your school uniform. you had your hands at your sides, rocking back in forth from the heels of your feet, your headphones bobbing along with your head as you listened to your song. tsukishima wonders how he would approach you.

a tap on the shoulder? yell your name? appear in front of you? should he turn you around violently and smile awkwardly? should he–

"tsukishima-san!"

he didn't realize that he had spaced out, blinking. you approach tsukishima as you discard your headphones to hang them around your neck, stopping just a few friendly feet from him.

"how was practice?" you pip. "you look exhausted."

tsukishima reddens. "i'm alright. same practice anyway," he rubs the back of his neck. "should we go inside? i'm thirsty."

he hopes he doesn't sound too demanding. but you reacted normally, gave him a pretty smile, and led your way towards the store.

coach ukai's mother sat behind the counter, sporting the same cigarette in her mouth, a garbled greeting escaping her without bothering to look up as she read her newspaper. you and tsukishima find your way to the back where the drinks are.

he opens the door for you, the appliance bulb casting a white glow over your face as you bent and searched for what drink made your veins twitch with excitement.

"by the way, you know yachi hitoka?" you balance your hands on your knees, looking up at him. "she's your manager right? i'm in her class!"

"really?" he queries, swallowing thickly. "you're really smart, then. it's one of the higher classes."

"i try," you shrug shyly, looking back at the selection of drinks. "anyway, i asked her about you. she said that you were a middle blocker, 6 foot something, and that she liked your friend yamaguchi? i don't know, she said it then she denied it."

"oh, she likes him alright," he chuckles. "he walks her home every night."

"really?!" you pick up two cans of coke and clutch them to your chest, standing upwards. tsukishima shyly reaches for another strawberry drink. "i'm mad at her for not telling me that."

you make your way to the front with tsukishima following behind you. you place the contents on the counter, the woman behind muttering something you can't discern as she scanned your orders.

"are you allowed to stay out a little longer?" you ask him, the soft beeps of the drinks grazing his ears. he shrugs again, reaching for his wallet.

"yeah, sure. do you want to do something?" he places the payment on the counter before you were able to take your own cash out. you pout.

"i was going to pay for mine."

"it's alright. it wasn't that expensive, anyway." he smiles a little at you. and it was the first time tsukishima had ever smiled kindly at anyone, except yamaguchi, his mom, and akiteru. "you were saying?"

you pop open your can. "i found this really nice spot where you can stargaze. and, honestly, i'm bored and tomorrow's the weekend. i would have invited you to do this tomorrow, but we're here now!"

he laughs through his nose. "i'm free anytime."

when you both approach the exit, coach ukai and the team stand by the open doors. tsukishima stops on his tracks, his mouth parted the slighest as you tip your head back to drink your soda. when your head comes back in place, your eyes settle on the crowd upon you.

"oh, hello ukai-san!"

tsukishima looks at you through his peripherals before darting his eyes back front. they all snicker, eyes widened at the sight in front of them— cold, narcissistic, mean tsukishima kei, with probably the nicest girl in all of karasuno. yachi waves at you.

"is that why you were rushing to get out, tsukishima?" ukai teases, a cigarette hanging loosely off his lips. "i see you've met my number 1 customer."

he blushes when he's exposed, and he ignores the way you give him a surprised glance.

"so you must be the girl he was texting earlier," tanaka approaches you, offers his hand. "forgive him. he sounds lame when he texts, but trust me if you saw his face he looked like–"

"tanaka-san." tsukishima almost pleads.

while shaking his hand, yachi approaches you with yamaguchi behind her. "this is why you asked me about him!"

"shut up, yachi."

tsukishima could die right then and there. melt into a puddle of sweat and embarrassment. there were words exchanged between you and his ever loving team, the heat on his face becoming hotter and hotter at every second.

he wishes he could leave now.

by the time hinata begins to ask you a question about tsukishima's attitude, he sighs loudly. "excuse us, but we have to head out now."

you look at him again. "we do?"

"yes, we do," he looks down at you. "you told me, remember?"

you smile at him, recollecting your invitation. "oh, yes! we should get going."

you offer your goodbyes to the curious group. tsukishima wallows in discomfort, walking away with his shoulders slightly slumped and a hand in his pocket.

"i like them," you tell him, drinking your coke. "they're nice."

"they're really not," he takes a sip of his drink. "if you hung out with them, you'd be just as annoyed as i was."

his "joke" makes you laugh. first he thinks what could be so funny about his comment, then he realizes you don't actually know that he wasn't joking. the thought makes him swoon just a little.

"so why stargazing?" his and your feet are synchronized, stepping on the uneven cobblestone to the destination that tsukishima still doesn't know. your shoulder is closed to his when you walk; he resists the urge to put his hand out so that they'd graze your fingers, feeling the heat rub on his calloused skin.

"yesterday, when you walked home, i looked back and saw you look up at the sky," you reply. "and i realized that "oh, he stargazes too!" so i decided to bring you to my spot."

"your spot?" you hum in agreement. "why?"

"because it's nice to share the feeling of looking up at beautiful stars." you throw your now empty can onto a nearby bin, opening your second one. "i figured maybe you might feel the same way i do."

if it was admiration then yes, he felt the same way you did.

🏐 —

tsukishima realizes the walk was 10 minutes away from his home. now you're both standing at a hill where you can see all the houses nearby and karasuno at the other side.

you sit down on the ground, he copies you. his bottom sits on the soft soil, his fingers prickled by the grass, and the cold smell of the meadow enters his nostrils.

he thinks that everything is happening a little too fast – he had only met you yesterday, exchanged emails earlier, went out to buy drinks, and now you're both sitting at a hill stargazing like it's a date. your optimism and kindness shakes him a little, leaving him with an unknown thought of what he could possibly do as of this moment.

yet he's still here, watching you gaze at the stars, the sheer glow of the moon kissing your cheeks, the stars reflecting off the mosaic of your eyes. you're radiating this cordial heat that wraps around his right arm that rests just millimeters away from you.

"told you it's pretty," you beam, lips parted, never sparing him a glance. "you see that? that's cassiopea right there."

you point to the sky and squint, and it's only then tsukishima takes his eyes off you and follow the direction of your fingerprint.

you trace the invisible strings that connect each star to one another. blearily, his imagination turns those strings into silver. tsukishima draws nearer towards you, his shoulder now bumping yours, his pinkie grazing the skin of your finger.

"andromeda isn't here yet. but it's the one i've been waiting for the most," you turn your head to look at him.

tsukishima's breath hitches when he realizes that he may have underestimated how close the proximity he had created was, your breath fanning his face. he senses your surprise, the way the bottom of your eyes twitch lightly and your nose scrunches a little.

"i figure maybe they arive in a few weeks," he murmurs. he can sense your surprise and says: "you're not the only one who knows about stars."

"yeah? figured you were more into dinosaurs."

"that's true," he sniffles, you giggle. "when i was a kid i thought that the stars were the ones who killed the dinosaurs. so every night, when i see them, i would always cry 'cause i thought that they might fall here and kill us all."

"pessimist, huh?" when your head tilts up, your chin bumps his shoulder. "anything else i should know about you?"

"there's one thing i want to tell you but i've been making it plainly obvious."

"you have a knack for strawberries."

"yes," he smiles a little, the whites of his teeth appearing between his thin lips. "i like music."

"so do i."

"yeah? what genre?"

"...anri..."

"really?" tsukishima's eyes brighten, maybe even brighter than the stars. "i like her music."

"i thought you were kind of a japanese rock kind of guy."

"i can be many things," you look back up to the sky, your eyes darting between each individual star like you're tracing another constellation. tsukishima's tracing the features of your face like it was his constellation.

"yachi says you're mean, but in a way that brings up the team's drive to play harder," you say into the wind. "please don't be mean to me. i cry easily."

tsukishima wonders if he can even smile more than he is now. "i'll try my best. you're giving me a lot of reasons to be mean right now."

"but you're not being mean to me right now," you poke his glasses and shove them to his face, hurting the bridge of his nose. albeit tsukishima doesn't mutter a single complaint. "you're just being dorky."

"i am not!" he balances his body with one hand behind him, the other tugging on the end of your hair.

"now you're just being childish!"

your laugh beats out all the songs he had to search for to complete every single of his playlists. it was as soft as silk, as dulcet as violins; it was something he'd play on repeat when it played on his headphones. and your sweet laughed matched the way your face became even more beautiful.

tsukishima feels his heart beat a little bit faster.

a star explodes. supernova.

he no longer feels wearied from practice, his body languid from comfort in your presence. and just like last night, he was happy his day ended with something that lacked the usual bothersome feeling in his chest, but something that decompressed every constraint muscle in his body and think of something else that made the corner of his lips smile and his heart elated.

that's why when he went back home, when his mother and akiteru (who was visiting) were dead asleep, he silently descended to his room with a smile on his face, brushed his teeth with the sound of your laugh echoing in his ears, changed his clothes with your scent somehow lingering, and went to be thinking about you.

🏐 —

the past few weeks were more eventful than the days he had to train for the inter-high preliminaries.

the more he saw you, the more he felt himself unwinding like a diurnal motion, every trust and rigor travelling through his veins whenever your aura touched his opalescent skin.

you were the succor to his weary bones. you were the happiness that he never truly found in others. you were the light brighter than the stars could ever give him in the dark.

secrets were passed the way notes would in classes.

you got a sweet tooth? what dessert do you like?

strawberry shortcake, tsukishima said. no regrets, no embarrassment. pure adoration.

did you know that velociraptors aren't actually that big?

yeah? how'd you know that, tsukishima?

it's called reading, he'd roll his eyes. you're in the highest class and you don't read?

his retorts were never used to add insult to injury. that's what he liked about you– you knew when he was serious and when he wasn't despite the fact that tsukishima believed that he was hard to read. it seemed like you were able to read him better than yamaguchi has.

his heart aches at the thought. the ache, painful but so good, but something that he could not discern the true intention.

but he could never let you in him. never in his life.

you. saw a frog and it looked like you. loser. 12:51pm

you and tsukishima had exchanged countless of texts that contained topics that he never expected himself to be indulging in. that familiar ding! of his phone reminded him of you already, because you'd been the only one who constantly texted him more than yamaguchi has.

(also because, well, he set up a different tone for you.)

tsukishima sees your name pop up in a rectangular notification on his screen. he opens it with sweaty hands and a towel over his head, his thumbs typing out a snarky reply.

tsukishima. How could a frog look like me, (y/n)? That's dumb. 12:51pm

he ruffles his towel over his damp curls, the sweat on his temples being sucked into the cloth. he watches the three bubbles appear on your side and you say:

you. because i said so. look! 12:52pm

the attached image looked far from what tsukishima looks like. it was a regular frog, beside a pond, with no thoughts. he rolls his eyes.

tsukishima. I don't see it. 12:53pm

you. thats because youre not LOOKING. do u see his eyes? literally you. i think its the mouth, haha 12:54pm

he laughs either way despite not having seen any similarities. but laughing seemed to be a mistake, as he forgot where he was at the moment.

"quit laughing, tsukishima. you'll slack off," kageyama taunts from afar, face etched into an arrogant smirk. yamaguchi approaches him, peeking over tsukishima's shoulder to snoop on the conversation.

"are you worried i'll ruin your game, king?" tsukishima rubs the back of his neck, tilting his chin upwards. "my apologies."

you send him another text: omw there to see u :p 12:59pm

the latter's growl was overpowered by yamaguchi's hum of interest. "tsukki, that frog does look like you."

"yamaguchi, how nosy are you?"

"nosy enough to ask when will you tell her that you like her?"

tsukishima's eyebrows furrow. he did not like you. during those weeks, the both of you did more than just exchange texts in any time of day– often you'd meet after classes and buy a drink when he didn't have practice; sometimes you'd wait for him until seven in the evening so you'd both go up the hill again and talk mindlessly about things that tickled your brains.

in those few weeks, he had learned more about himself than he ever had with anyone else.

and he feels, though never actually given any attention to, that his days ended with a smile on his face rather than feeling boredom creeping up his shoulder like a grim reaper would on a dying soul.

instead, it felt like he was resurrected; tsukishima felt like a shooting star falling through evening, the fire pulsing through his veins as he fell. with you, he felt like everything else had color, that everything else made sense.

his life became brighter that it seemed like hinata's hair was actually on fire from the bright orange hues.

so no, he did not like you.

"i don't like her." he wipes the sweat that dripped onto his glasses. "don't be ridiculous."

"yesterday, when you were eating, you kept talking about how this (y/n) girl told you how the dinosaurs from jurassic park were created. and all of us were talking about one piece."

"so? it's way more interesting."

"but not her?"

"yamaguchi," he bemoans. "nothing is interesting about her."

that lie. that sickeningly, macabre, heartbreaking lie that it even hurt him to say it. tsukishima also doesn't understand why yamaguchi has a horrified face plastered on him, but he realizes he wasn't looking at his friend, and was looking behind him.

he whips his head around.

the tips of your shoes had mud on them from the dampened soil. your umbrella hung loosely around your wrist and dripped on the ground. your fingers clasped around a small contained with what seemed to be strawberry shortcaked that looked delectable enough to make his stomach hurt. and your chest heaved from what he assumed was the aftermath of rapid walking.

despite the sight that had made his head spin, the affliction that twitched from your frowning lips and the gloss that made your eyes shine from dejection had turned the situation into something so monotone he feels like his soul had just left life.

a star dies in the middle of the galaxy.

tsukishima thinks the regret plastered on his face may be seen. he hopes that it is.

the sound of squeaking shoes and ricocheting balls continue, but the ringing of his ears are louder. you swallow thickly, shuffling on your feet, and approach him hesitantly like he'd burn you if you were near him.

"i brought you this because you looked so pale yesterday after you practiced," you say softly, though he could hear the pain in your tone. tsukishima takes the container from your reaching hand, and swears he sees your breath hitch when his fingers graze yours.

"thank you–"

"see you around, tsukishima," you bow, before you hurriedly leave the gymnasium.

it felt like the room was shrinking rapidly on him, his muscles pressing in on his body in a suffocating manner. yamaguchi puts his hand on tsukishima's shoulder, leaning down to check in on his distraught friend.

"tsukki," his eyebrows are raised in concern, voice loud enough to snap tsukishima out of his pity daze but low enough that everybody else remained distracted. "hey..."

"i'm fine," he looks up at him. "it's nothing. i'm- i'm fine. let's just go back to practice."

his fists clench when he shoves the cake into his bag and walks back into the court. his blocks are futile when he thinks of your eyes. his serves hit the net when he thinks of the frown pasted on your lips. and he feels himself at the bottom of the game when another star dies.

he just doesn't know if it was his or yours. could a heart break two times?

🏐 –

tsukishima had a crisp trepidation towards the true veneer of love.

he believes he was too young for that, that he was in a stage where he would have this deep passion for things that were alive albeit something that he can't touch nor interconnect with– hense is unfathomable love for dinosaurs, stars, and strawberry shortcake.

so whatever it is that he was feeling for you – he doesn't know if it's love. tsukishima feels like he could die if he didn't see you for a single day; his feet and his body restless up until you both meet after practice.

tsukishima is even more restless now.

there wasn't a single text from you since 12:59 in the afternoon.

there was almost a hundred texts from tsukishima since 3:00pm, the time he had excused himself early from his practice.

he lays on his bed, his headphones on but no music. he wasn't in the mood to put himself up in brighter spirits. his back rests uncomfortably on the thick mattress, his curls splayed across his pillow, a hand on his chest and a hand holding a fork, his feet spread apart.

and the strawberry shortcake you gave him rests on his chest, half eaten, his mouth chewing sadly on the sweet delicacy.

"do you think stars have thoughts?" you asked. tsukishima found this beguiling and preposterous simultaneously, however the curiosity that happened to lift his lips into a dazed smile made him release a teasing retort:

"you certainly don't."

you threw a grape at him. he caught it with an open mouth. the sun was about to set, but the warmth was enough to prevent the both of you from shivering idiotically on the hill at the cold breeze. "i'm approaching an epiphany, asshole."

your vulgarity made him smile more. "celestial bodies, more specifically stars, do not have thoughts. but they're alive, and they function into a cycle."

"unorthodox minds like mine go out of the box," you rolled your eyes. "sorry, i'll put it in simpler terms so you could understand. i have a very creative mind."

"oh yeah?" tsukishima tilted his head sideways to present his interest. "and what'd you mean by that?"

"you know how stars die and create themselves?" you queried. "it's like how phoenixes rise from the ashes as they're reborn. but when a star resurrects, they're called "zombie stars," right?"

"yeah."

"and i'm not saying that they have a mind of their own, but if you were to input your own thoughts into a star, then yeah, it's like they resurrect themselves to live on with life over and over again, and don't you think that's exhausting? they're like dead stars, and they still shine brightly, and it's ironic, right? because something that has been dead billions of years ago still shine. it has a meaning into it that people just... completely ignore."

"so an analogy?" his eyebrow raised.

"yeah, something like that," you licked your lips. "when you see a bright star, and you don't know if it's a dead star. but imagine stargazing and finding love in something that has been dead long ago."

tsukishima's body softened. "uhuh."

"but what if you keep loving that star? and that star just receives so much of that love that they're able to resurrect themselves. well, obviously loving a star isn't actually gonna bring it back to life because there's a separate scientific explanation for that, but i'm saying that– that if you love something, or someone, hard enough that you're able to bring light into their lives, then that's possible.

and they take all that love for the benefit of their life and... they burst into something beautiful called supernovas."

tsukishima stared at you, his gaze ever so adoringly. "and what's the point of this epiphany of yours?"

"that loving someone that has been gone inside their body is possible to save them and bring them back to life to turn them into someone even more beautiful."

tsukishima sits back up, a whiplash from the quick commotion.

it was already night when his thin curtains were tainted black from the dark glow of the evening.

he pushes himself off his bed, slip his way out of his home and clumsily puts his shoes on to find you.

and he knows exactly where you are.

so it's no surprise when he sees you all alone, laying down on the meadow of the hill, blooming flowers grazing your cheeks in any way the wind blows. tsukishima stands and stares at you longingly, his fingers twitching beside him.

"(y/n)."

he says your name like an oath to the stars. you sit up, hearing his voice, cheeks dry with tears melting onto your skin. tsukishima's heart breaks the slightest when he brings himself up the hill.

"what are you doing here?" you ask him, voice so small he'd think you were whispering.

to his surprise, tsukishima falls onto his knees in front of you. he finds it endearing that despite the reduce of his height, you still look up at him. then he takes your hands into his, his thumbs tracing every ridge of your knuckles, looking deep into your eyes.

"i didn't mean what i said." he declares like he was under jurisdiction of the judge. "you are–... the most interesting woman in the world. the most beguiling, the most entrusting, the most beautiful."

your eyebrows furrow, hands shaking in his grasp. "what are you saying?"

"that i'm an asshole." he admits. "you are so interesting that every epiphany of yours pulls me back on the ground and into you. that epiphany you had about dead stars that resurrect themselves from getting so much love? shit, (y/n), that may be me."

you let out a tiny gasp, maybe a breath of reliefz his face is so close to yours, his knees in between your legs, bumping the side of your thighs. "what?"

"i–... i don't know if you love me. you don't have to. but you've made my days brighter and gave my life meaning that i felt like i was resurrected. like all the pieces in me were brought back together. and everything else just felt... alive."

finally, you smile. just a little, but it was enough to make the grass greener and the color of your shirt turn pastel, your eyes vibrant in the night. "yeah?"

"yeah," he laughs, idiotically he may add. "i like you. i like you so much. i like you more than i like dinosaurs."

you guffaw, throwing your head back, hands never letting go.

a star resurrects. a supernova explodes.

"i like you more," you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

it was enough for him to jump on you to press his lips on your awaiting mouth, gently pressing you down on the grass, his hand on the back of your head to soften the blow as he settles himself in between your legs.

his mouth, sweet with strawberries and ardor, his hair soft like flowers when your fingers tangle on the golden locks, his glasses pressing against the space between your eyebrows and the bridge of your nose, his tongue that hovers respectfully on top of your bottom lip.

innocent, lips full of solicitude, he kisses you deeper and with care, his head tilting to open his mouth the slightest so that he could get closer to you. the small sound that emits from your mouth makes him pull back and smile shyly.

his eyes had the galaxies reflected off his eyes that it made space seem like they were golden from his irises. you take his glasses off, placing them beside you, and let your hands rest on his face; tucking his hair behind his ear as you do so.

and above your intertwined bodies, andromeda swims across the stygian night sky, traced by invisible strings. just as tsukishima predicted.

tsukishima could stare at you for the rest of his life.

tsukishima loved four things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, stars, and most especially:

you.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

[w1ld-k4t]

Unhelpful

CONTENT WARNING: Nothing crazy. Pussy eating, some pet-names (i.e bunny, my light), and Xavier being a bratty dom. Go ham, folks.

SYNOPSIS: Xavier had an urge to be between your legs while you're trying to get some work done.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, yeah, this is very self indulgent. Sue me. Once again, though, I'm sorry for any OOC-ness. I love writing (this one also just tore it's way out of my hands), but I haven't written for the lads until now. I think Caleb came out pretty good, so let's hope I did Xavier justice, too.

How are you supposed to think like this?

The laptop screen strains your eyes, propped up on your thighs as you lounge back in your shared bed. Any studying, writing or project you’d been trying to get done is nothing but a mindless blur. Your mind is wandering, unable to grasp and stick to any specific word or image reflecting back into your cloudy gaze.

All because you’d given into to those pretty, pleading blue eyes.

- ☆ -

“Xavier, I don’t know…” The words had felt twisted on your tongue, thighs unconsciously pressing together where you sit. His request has the heat flooding to your cheeks, but you really do have things you need to get done. And with what he’s suggesting…

“Mm… It’s alright if you don’t want to, bunny,” he nearly coos (and it makes your heart melt) as he rests his head in his hand, elbow bent and propped upon his pillow. For a moment, his gaze drifts away from your face and down to the plush rabbit sitting between you both. His free hand idly fiddles with the felt of it’s ear, “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable…”

And it’s the way he returns his sights to your own that is your undoing, stars shimmering in his gaze and pupils blown into large, desiring pools.

“I just wanna taste you.”

- ☆ -

And thus, here you are.

He’s taking his time between your legs, head underneath the shadow of your laptop and hands lightly gripping, caressing the back of your thighs. As there always is when he’s even being gentle with you, there’s a subtle possessiveness in his touch. His tongue draws lazy circles around your entrance, gathering the escaping slick there and then agonizingly dragging it up to draw stars on your clit.

You haven’t gotten any work done. Or, if you did manage to in your haze, it must not be very coherent. You can’t hear your thoughts over the sound of his lapping and slurping.

Every twitch of your thighs trying to close is awarded with a tightening of his fingers, a gentle nip to your pussy lips and, if done too many times in a row, a low, displeasured growl. Whimpers have slipped past your own tongue far too many times to count at this point. The worst part is the lack of goal. True to his word, he’s just tasting you. Slow, leisurely and, dare he say, sleepily drunk on the flavor.

It’s driving you insane.

You’re brought out of your thoughts as he taps your thigh, mumbling something inaudible against your sopping cunt. You hadn’t even realized how your had had fallen back against the wall behind you, your laptop slanted without you holding it in place.

“My light…” He hums, and you can hear the infuriatingly teasing smile on his lips. Imagining it covered in your slick and his saliva has another spark of arousal swimming down your spine, “You haven’t been typing for a while… Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you breathe out too quickly, hair standing on the back of your neck at the sound of his amused, close-lipped chuckle. He’s already layering another lick over your slit, “N-no, I just… I just needed a break.”

You can do this. … You think.

Refocusing your gaze on your computer screen proves to be even more difficult than you’d anticipated, but damn him if he thinks you’re giving up now. Your fingers begin moving on the keyboard again, slow and hesitant. His hair tickles your inner thighs as the words form on the page, your finger swiping across the mousepad to make a correction and-

Another slow swipe across your clit makes your thighs clench. He nudges them back open.

Taking a deep breath, you continue. Click, tap, tap - Your fingers are shaking as they graze the key-caps. Moving two fingers to the mouse-pad again, you scroll up what you’ve written to see how far you’ve gotten-

His fingertips graze your pussy lips and it has your breath hitching, a jolt of surprise attacking your spine.

“Xav, you said-,” Your worries are shushed, his lips kissing your mound as he softly pets your slit with two of his fingers.

“Jus’ relax, bunny…” He breathes, teasing your entrance by circling around it and playing with the wetness that’s accumulated there, “M’ not gonna put them in… not yet.”

A confusing mix of relief and need follows after. Still, you huff and carry on. Knowing him, he’s trying to distract you on purpose. But he does as he said, only petting your cunt with the lightest touch while his tongue and lips do most of the work. Suckling and licking at your clit while his finger scoop your growing slick into his mouth.

To your credit, you do manage to get some work done. Not nearly as much as you need to, the page still painfully empty, but it’s not nothing. And you were going steady until you noticed him following a certain pattern.

Click, tap - A diagonal line, down to the right.

Tap, tap tip - Another, down to the left.

And as you’re trying to type, your fingers slow down.

Another diagonal line, this time up and to the right. Immediately followed by a connected line going down and to the right. A quick line swept across.

By the time he reaches V, you realize he’s (staking his claim) spelling his name over your swollen nub. It has your thighs shaking and, with the way his hand tightens around the flesh of your thigh, he knows you’ve noticed. Knows by the way your fingers have stopped moving and your breath picks up.

The smile you feel against your cunt is devious.

You’re not going to be able to think like this.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Once again, I hope I've done him justice. This quite literally came to thought as I was lounging back in this same position. Also; let me know if anyone's interested in a continuation or anything.

CREDITS: The dividers are from thecutestgrotto. Eye banner is from the Harper's Bazaar x LADS Collab. All writing is done by me, w1ld-k4t.

[nezuswritingdesk]

meow! (All the LIs with GN! Reader)

Synopsis: Oh no! They’ve turned into kittens! Now what?

Tags: fluff fluffy fluffy cats!, possibly ooc lis, based on the kitty event

Wc: 1.1k

A/n: this was like the first ever ask/request I've ever gotten (im sorry it took so long shu @sylusonychinus aka my dearly beloved husband) I hope you like it!)

Xavier- meow * naps *

Hes a small white kitten with the most expressive eyes and the fluffiest tail, a literal cloud. Hes a British short-hair with either cream or fawn fur.

And what's the first thing this little kitty does?

Naps.

He just naps all the time.

Or eat, that's his second favorite thing to do. Has tried to eat food he can't have

Dont be fooled by his cute face! He is a proficient hunter of mice and bugs.

Has presented you with dead animals and bugs with a calm expression.

Stole clothes

Chirps at the window, chrips at birds, at baked goods, at a random lizard, at his own reflection— Everything.

Will follow you everywhere, marking you with his scent.

Xavier kitty was a good kitty. He kept to himself, napped near the window for most of the day, occasionally changing position to stretch and retreat once more.

Today was different.

Xavier kitty was awake. His bright eyes looked out of the window, his small mouth chattering at a particular brown bird by the window.

“Meow!” He meowed, and glanced back at you with those big eyes that made you bring him home.

“No.” You said firmly, shaking your head. “I'm not letting you out.”

“Meowwww!!” He whined and pawed at the window. You sighed even more, picking him up. He began to look out the window, chirping loudly at the innocent bird outside.

“Maybe next time, Xavier.” You whispered. “You can get the bird later, you did a good job with that mouse a while ago.”

Xavier purred and nuzzled his chest against your neck. He glanced at the window once more, and napped once more in your arms.

Zayne - meow meow

Maine Coon. Hes a maine coon with the most expressive and bright forest green eyes known to mankind, Fluffy coat

A very perceptive cat, would softly bump his head against yours if he senses that you're not doing well

Also naps. As a busy doctor now turned feline, he can now catch up on much needed nap time

Hes an introverted and indoor cat, always hiding away (maybe in his study room)

As much as he is a cute and well behaved cat, he feels miserable because he can't have sweets (cats aren't allowed to have sweets)

Would chirp at Clopidogrel, but the poor squirrel got terrified. Zayne has never forgiven himself.

Has a calming presence towards everyone and everything he approaches. Except the carrots. He still hates them.

Wants cuddles, as much as he doesn't want to admit it. Give him cuddles please.

Has big big Boba eyes

Very hygienic and well-groomed.

Zayne kitty pressed his head gently against yours. You looked at the cat, his bright green eyes seemed to go forever with his calm and peaceful reaction. You tilted your head, wondering what's wrong.

“Meow.” Zayne said, nudging your hand. He left you , jumping down from the counter top and walking his way to the fridge. He raised a paw and patted it.

“Meow.” He repeated.

You opened the refrigerator, seemingly understanding his request. The fridge was primarily empty, say for the few water bottles and half-eaten food.

“I should get new groceries.” You concluded. Zayne meowed again. “You're right,” You knelt down and placed a hand on his soft fur. “I'll get new groceries it is.”

Rafayel - screeches and cries (he hates being a cat)

Kitty Rafayel…he hates it.

He hates being a cat.

He has been whining non-stop about his current state

A very very vocal kitten. He's a very loud siamese.

Has pretty fur and bright eyes too.

Is trying to draw with his paws and making art

Likes to hunt fish and annoy Tomas

As much as he is annoying and dramatic, he warms up to you and can be seen with you

Swims in the water

Praying to the gods that the paint he uses wouldn't poison him.

Kitty Rafayel had the worst day in his 800 years. He had turned into a kitty. He cried? Yowled? At his current state.

He glanced at his blank canvas, looking at it with disbelief and confusion. Now what?

He continued to cry, dipping his paws beneath the paints. The bright and striking colors fill the white floors. He played with the canvas, the colors splashing as he made progress — or whatever you'd call progress from a cat.

“Rafayel?” You called out, peering into the art studio. The small feline stopped and looked up at you. He immediately abandoned what he was doing, dragging paint behind him as he reached you. He nuzzled against your legs, purring loudly.

You smiled, lowering yourself down to pat his head. You sat beside him, glancing at the small pawprints that lined the bottom of the white canvas.

“That looks lovely.” You smiled. Rafayel meowed properly and nuzzled close. Though he was his least favorite creature, your compliments make his feline state tolerable enough.

Sylus - smug rich cat ma-ow

What a smug cat. Doesn't meow , he ma-ows.

has chased Mephisto around countless times

Has terrorized the twins in his feline form (though they do find the boss adorable, If he doesn't hiss at them, which is all the time)

Hes a caracal. He has sharp ears, and piercing eyes, it was like Onychinus had a lion in their midst

it doesn't matter that he was a cat, just like kitty Xavier, he is still as fierce and scary like in his human form

Do not be fooled! He's still a loverboy ? Lover cat? He's just as soft and affectionate with you.

Loves his laser. So much.

His favorite laser glows a bright and striking red that he would pounce on. His little exercise even.

Likes to sing?? Can cats even sing? Maybe he chirps a lot at Mephisto

PURRS SO LOUDLY like a little engine

Kitty sylus was curled up in your chest, purring loudly. You were asleep, trying not to mind the heavy weight of the cat. He continued to purr, wrapped up in a loaf position. He'd stretched occasionally, his claws pressed down against your chest as he made biscuits. “Meow…” Sylus meowed in a deep tone, you hummed incoherently and patted his head. Sylus purred along, leaning his face against the touch of your warm hand. You continued to pat and cuddle with him absentmindedly until he slipped out of your chest and walked away, probably to terrorize Mephisto and the twins once more.

Caleb - in distress because he wanted to be dog instead

He wanted to be a dog. But he here was, turned into a very well-loved housecat , no exact breed but well-loved

Very floofy but not fat. His fur makes him look fat.

Hes not!! He's a very active cat

Loves to run around and play

Please take him out on walks whenever he can

Steals your clothes too, sits on your warm laundry to place his scent all over (like kitty Xavier)

Loves to follow you in the kitchen

Will not eat if you will not eat!

Loves to keep you company

Loves being toll (standing on his hind legs)

Kitty Caleb always kept you company from the moment you wake up to the moment you fell asleep, the sight of his wide eyes and tail wagging in the winds kept his presence known.

And every afternoon, Kitty Caleb loved going on walks. He would meow at the door like a dog, looking back at you with expecting eyes, pleading to go outside.

You sighed and got up from the couch, grabbing his leash and collar. You called him over, placed on his leash and collar, grabbed your keys, and headed out with him, leading the way.

[lily-sofii]

Could you do some hc with AFAB!reader and Hollyberry on their huney moon?

(SFW + NSFW)

Hollyberry cookie honeymoon headcanons!

A/N: I don't know Hollybbery yet, so it might be OOC. Also, sorry it's short, I don't usually write for female characters. I won't write them in the future.

Tw(?): mentions of strap-ons, Hollyberry is a chubby cute cookie

SFW:

-had to FORCE wild berry cookie not to come along

-You were welcomed into the family immediately, Jungle berry cookie is glad Holy berry has someone to look after her

-picked out the most beautiful place for the honeymoon, full of pink themed stuff for her, along with your style of decor

-She will give you many, many honey moon gifts. But one of her personal favorites is a necklace, that has an enchanted heart gem hanging from it. Just like the one on her shield

-most definitely brought berry juice

-There is a chance she picked a place near a water source, just so you'd be able to go for swims together

NSFW:

-bought you both matching pairs of lingerie, hers being pink, and yours being your favorite color with pink accents

-most certainly the romantic type that takes her time

-She’d prefer to be the dominant one during intimacy, but if you want to try being on top, she'll let you

-given that she has bigger breasts (thanks to her being chubby), I'd say she'd enjoy having her breasts groped or played with

-Most definetly will be more into eating you out than scissoring

-will get any shape of toy you want, and will be more than glad to help you use it

-Will invest in a strap-on if you agree to it

-Is not the quiet type at all. she'll be loud in order to show you that you're making her feel good.

-Absolutely loves when her partner is vocal, it makes her feel like she's doing a good job at pleasuring you

-If you're okay with it, she would like to overstimulate you.

[spongeyspot]

Toxic Traits/Red Flags HC

Characters: Arthur, Javier, John, Lenny, Dutch, Micah, Charles, Sean, Hosea, Mary Beth, Abigail, Tilly, Karen, Sadie, Molly

(A/N): WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT THIS DAWG. I LOVED @cowboyfromh3ll 's take on that shit sm and these hcs have literally been swimming in my head for weeeeeeeeks bro

Edit: some of these were kinda hard because there's not a lot of bad in the characters themselves... I had trouble with specifically Charles, Lenny, Mary Beth, and Tilly. Sorry if they may be OOC. IM EVEN DOING THE GIRLS BECAUSE IM IN A SILLY GOOFY MOOD

Content Warning: female reader, jealousy, self hate, narcissism, gaslighting, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, mentions of murder and violence, mentions of infidelity, mentions of sex (Sean, Micah, Sadie kind of) (MINORS DNI)

Not edited btw

The boys

Arthur Morgan

- Honestly, I feel like Arthur would have this insane, crippling fear of rejection, especially when it comes to dating. - His self hate/deprecation plays a huge part in this, and quite honestly, him and Mary not working out probably also probably contributed to it. - Very emotionally distant. Has a hard time expressing his feelings openly due to that same fear of rejection.🚩 - Bottles shit up until he feels like he's gonna explode 🚩 - His impulse control is almost nonexistent 🚩 - Will resort to saying things that he doesn't even mean. He just says things when he's angry🚩 - Will hate himself even more if he makes you cry - Won't hesitate to run away from camp for a while to cool off. This isn't necessarily a bad thing per se, but he usually takes his time away to overthink the fuck out of everything - Prone to acting violent. (not to someone he cared about, but to other people, absolutely)Also due to his poor impulse control. 🚩

Javier Escuella

- Has a flirty personality, but around women, it just seems to get worse. 🚩 - Tells you you're overreacting if you tell him it bothers you🚩 - Overprotective of you. Always has his eyes on you, and practically orders you to stay in camp where it's safe. - As if you step one foot outside the camp without him, you'll spontaneously drop dead - Jealous asf. Are you laughing at what Bill just said? It wasn't even that funny. Why are you standing so close to him? You should be at least 6 feet away from him, not 5 and a half. 🚩 - Also has a problem with how you dress sometimes. God forbid your shirt is ever low cut. He'd probably ask you to change. 🚩 - And if you get offended or upset, he'll lie and tell you it's because he can't stop staring at your chest, and he'd like to focus of whatever it was he was doing.🚩

John Marston

- Stubborn as all hell. Doesn't listen to anybody for anything.🚩 - Commitment issues up the ass - Says mean things out of anger and sometimes actually means them 🚩 - Won't apologize half the time. He thinks kissing it better actually makes it better 🚩 - Regularly ignores his own bad habits instead of actually facing them 🚩 - Will run away from problems like Arthur, but worse. He'd be gone a really long time.🚩 - Gets annoyed with you if you get angry at him for leaving and staying away for a while. He told you he needed space, didn't he? What else do you need from him?? 🚩 - Ignorantly clueless half the time. Head empty, no thoughts.

Lenny Summers

- Not assertive in the slightest, and usually, respectfully, keeps to himself. -Takes orders without verbal complaints but inside he's annoyed as fuck 🚩 - Even if he hates doing something he'll probably just go "Okay" and do it anyway, and he'll sulk all day afterwards - Refuses to tell you what's wrong because he thinks he'll sound childish.🚩 - If you push the issue, he might snap at you out of annoyance like "Would you just let it be??" - Immediately feels guilty and shameful, and he'll hide away until he's ready to apologize and face you again - Also kind of a know-it-all... He'll correct you a LOT. It would get annoying 🚩 - Would blatantly tell you you're wrong before correcting you🚩 - Not necessarily an asshole about it but he still tends to get under your skin sometimes

Dutch Van Der Linde

- The BIGGEST Narcissist you'll ever meet.🚩 -He loses another piece of his mental state with every breath he takes. Slowly but surely losing his mind.🚩 - King of gaslighting🚩 - How could you even think that about him? He could never do anything wrong! You must be crazy...🚩 - Tries to recite his "pretty words" from Evelyn Miller to try and sound smarter than he actually is 🚩 - Expects you to just feed his ego without him actually doing anything to earn it🚩 - Will try to correct you even when he's wrong🚩 - Refuses to admit he's wrong. He can never be wrong. That word isn't even in his vocabulary unless he's talking about literally anyone but himself🚩

Micah Bell

- Where do I even start with this guy - Not above putting his hands on you if he doesn't get his way. Let's be honest here.🚩 - Mega Narccisist, almost as bad as Dutch 🚩 - Will brag and share every sexual encounter you've ever had with him like he's talking about the weather🚩 - VERY prone to Violence 🚩 - NO impulse control. Murders people for fun.🚩 - Backhanded and borderline abusive compliments 24/7 "You'd look so good if you weren't so fucking fat..." 🚩 - Selfish lover. Thinks just sticking it in will do the trick, and it does, for him at least.🚩 - Little to no affection. What are you? His girlfriend? Wait...🚩 -If he actually does show you affection, and you react in surprise, he'll tell you to go fuck yourself, and that that's the last time he ever does anything nice for you.🚩

Charles Smith

- Impossible to read sometimes - Like Arthur, Charles tends to keep a lot of his emotions bottled up until he feels like he's gonna pop 🚩 - Like most of the men in the Van Der Linde gang, Charles is also prone to acting violently. I mean, he started a bar fight with a fucking chair, and he fights in street fighting rings, let's be real for a second.🚩 - He's incredibly quiet and reserved a lot of the time, and sometimes you just assume that he's listening to you when you talk, but a lot of the time, he's lost in his own thoughts. - Will do everything anyone asks him to at the expense of his own free time and energy, and sometimes he works himself to exhaustion just to try and please everyone.🚩 - In doing so, he sometimes doesn't have time for himself at the end of the day. It also seems like you spend time together less and less as the days go on. - If he ever got himself hurt and you tried to help him, he'd decline any help with anything to save his own pride. The last thing he needs is you thinking he's weak. 🚩 - Extremely Overprotective. Like to the point where he'd beat the shit out of anybody you asked him to🚩

Sean Macguire

- An Alcoholic🚩 - horny 99% of the time, but half that time he probably has whiskey dick. Still asks you to try but doesn't understand that it's like trying to play pool with a rope... - If he can manage to be sober enough to actually get it up, and you're not in the mood, he'd get pissy and annoyed with you for "wasting his boner" 🚩 - Will probably also brag about having sex with you to everyone🚩 - Needy as all hell - Bro sulks on purpose - Low key loves the attention you give him when you continue to ask him what's wrong, but he never actually tells you and constantly says "I'm fine..." or "It's nothing..." 🚩 - But then sighs dramatically and continues sulking and dragging his feet so you keep giving him more attention 🚩

Hosea Matthews

- Ignores his physical health until he's practically dying. You've told him to get that cough looked at for literal years and he just says "I will" and does nothing 🚩 - sometimes talks to you as if you're a child especially if he's around Dutch -low key gaslights you sometimes 🚩 - and he says it with such a gentle tone, its hard to catch it 🚩

The girls

Mary Beth Gaskill

- Daydreams way too much - Likes to live in her romance novel fantasy land rather than face reality 🚩 - Cries a lot - Tries to be angry but can't help but cry instead - If crying makes you feel bad for her, she'll probably do it on purpose so you comfort her and give her attention🚩 -If you're in a fight, she'll turn on the crocodile tears to get you to stop being angry with her or whatever it is you're arguing about.🚩

Abigail Roberts

- She can be verbally abusive if she's pushed far enough 🚩 - Holds in a lot of her emotions🚩 - Neglectful of her own personal needs to make sure you or Jack are fully provided or cared for🚩 - a lot of the time, when she's upset with you, you're probably given the cold shoulder and the silent treatment - incredibly protective. Not necessarily a bad thing, but she can sometimes be super overbearing.

Tilly Jackson

- Tells it how she sees it, sometimes accidentally sounding a lot colder than she means to 🚩 - Too sarcastic for her own good 🚩 - Laughs a little too much sometimes when you tell a joke, and you can often tell it's actually incredibly fake🚩 - gets irritated really easily, especially if she's bothered while doing her chores. The last thing she needs is Grimshaw on her ass again.🚩 - irritable a lot of the time, unintentionally becoming short or snapping at you - like john, she also believes that kissing it better is better than actually apologizing

Karen Jones

- An alcoholic 🚩 - picks fights with you for fun, finds it entertaining to see how red your face can get from anger 🚩 - Screaming matches are a regular occurance between you guys, and she starts it almost every time 🚩 - Pretty jealous when it comes to the opposite sex🚩 - Has self doubt and believes that she can't give you everything a man probably could

Sadie Adler

- The nosiest woman in America. No chill. She reads everyone's mail. - Makes a lot of loose threats 🚩 - Anger issues🚩 - Low impulse control🚩 - Can be a little too rough sometimes 🚩 - If she's upset with you, she'll either yell or storm off. Sometimes both. 🚩 -(She tends to walk away a lot more often because she's actuall self aware that her anger issues are a problem) - She'd never admit that to you though.

Molly O'Shea

- Even more jealous than Javier🚩 - Glares at and envies anyone you talk to that isn't her🚩 - Has immaginary conversations with people in her head🚩 - Rubbing her hands together when the real life conversations are following the script she had planned out in her brain - Needs constant reassurance - "D'you even love me anymore?!"🚩 - Overthinks everything 🚩 - Paranoid as hell about infidelity - Gets mad at you when she dreams about you cheating on her🚩

[tokkiiecloud]

It’s hot outside so get hit by this bus take whv this is (Also don’t mind my writing, I ain’t no writer I have written a few fanfictions here and there soo..yeah)

WHB : it’s summer and it’s hot / Beach dates :

Characters : gn!reader ; Belphegor ; Bael ; Gamigin ; ppyong (Juno p) +angel : Raphael

CW : Sweating ; OOC

Belphegor :

this dude just sleeps through the heat

He’s inside with the air conditioner on

You just came back from a small trip in town with Agares and Vassago, and directly joined Belphegor who was sleeping in his room, you were drenched in sweat because of the FUCKING HOT AIR OUTSIDE and you were too lazy to go shower and change into a pair of fresh and cool clothes(he rubbed off on you)

You collapsed on the bed where Belphegor was sleeping, when he felt something that resembled a wet rat, he had to wake up from the discomfort, when he saw it was you he pushed you off the bed :

“WT- BELPHI?! THIS HURTS!” You yelled at him, he ignored you and went back to sleep, you were forced to take a shower and change when you came back he finally used you as a pillow.

Bael :

This man works through the heat (ac broken)

Collapsed bcs of the heat after waking up he started working again.

You walked inside of Bael’s office, he was still working despite when entering you could feel the unbearable heat, you started sweating profusely how could Bael work in this environment??

He smelt you’re sweats and looked at you giving a weak smile, he was close to collapsing, alerted, you quickly went to him and grabbed his face worry in your eyes :

“Bael?! Your office is like an oven?!” You said worried, he just looked at you and apologized

“Sorry..the ac is actually broken but I’m used to the heat do not worry about me, go somewhere where the ac is on-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence before you dragged him out of the room, he wasn’t able to fight back because of his brain being turned to mush because of the heat.

After dragging him to a random chamber placing him onto the bed, making him drink some water, changing him into more comfortable clothes and going into the bed to cuddle with him.

He smiled softly before kissing your forehead and letting himself be taken care of by you.(Bael my beloved)

Gamigin :

He’s very worried about you staying hydrated

“Please don’t go outside too much”

Paradise lost, for some reason is not that hot?? But Gamigin still worries a lot about you he heard from Lucifer that human’s can’t withstand too much heat so he’s constantly checking on you, giving you water to keep you hydrated!

Ppyong (Juno p) :

Spends his day at the beach to be able to cool himself in the water

Listens to Avril Lavigne while swimming

He begged MC to go to the beach with him so he could spend some alone time together! Drinking wine together, watching the sunset together, swimming, his perfect idea for a date! Sadly he can’t hang out because the others will tag along…

At least he got a kiss on the forehead for the cute idea! It was worth it :

“Ppyong, I mean Juno, this is a very cute idea! Let’s do this next time!”

He giggles as you kiss his forehead, his smile is super bright almost blinding you more than the sun

Raphael :

Doesn’t give a flying fck at the heat

Has tried to kiss you while watching the sunset and will continue to try when he can

Interestingly, you found Raphael at the beach while hanging out with the devils of Gehenna and when he saw you…He took you away from them so for the rest of the day you spent you’re time with him

It was fun! You had a really good and goofy time with him he was still acting high and mighty but he was softer than usual until the sun started to set, both of you were sitting down on the golden sand :

“The sunset is beautiful..all those golden and pinkish mixed with a hint of blue create such a unique and ethereal look…”

He looks at you, eyes sparkling, he smiles at you as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, extremely gently as if he was handling a crystal glass :

“You know what else is beautiful and ethereal?” He looks deep into your eyes, leaning in closer to your face, when suddenly a bunch of demons intervened and brutally ended the sweet moment by starting a fight after the fight Raphael left but not without saying one last thing :

“Our moment was interrupted but we’ll have time to continue it some time later. See you dear” he smirks and flies away.

It’s donneeee!! YAYY! Don’t mind it going from weird /goofy or cringe ?? To sweet, I couldn’t stop myself from writing about them I just had too before the fandom completely dies you know?? So every time I get an idea I’ll write it!! :3

[the-milk-monarch]

Aquarium Date HCs for Connor and Ralph (separately) I love sea life so I love the idea of pointing out different fish to my fictional crushes :0 (maybe just date hcs in general tho??)

☣︎ hell yeah phish and first dbh ask 👏🙌 Sorry in case they're OOC or I got some fish trivia wrong. I'm not an expert lol btw I love to do the same, just with dog breeds ✌ I wanted to write general dating headcanons as well, but I didn't want the post to be too all over the place, so feel free to ask for more if you liked this rendition of the boys

【 AQUARIUM DATE 】 ☢︎ | gender-neutral reader ☢︎ | Detroit Become Human ☢︎ | Connor | Ralph

【 Connor 】

Since he used to be a working android and didn't have a lot free will while not being a deviant, Connor liked going out with you a lot.

He was never interested in fish, but when you mentioned going to the aquarium he was a bit curious.

"Hm, the aquarium? Yeah, I'd like to go." He said as he looked at you with attentiveness in his eyes.

You were excited to point out each and every fish to him, although you were a bit worried Connor would be able to just- search the internet and get to know everything about them from the start.

He was a grade A android and detective after all.

You hoped he wouldn't get bored of you rambling about it.

As you arrived to the fancy building, Connor took notice of the big glass tunnel.

He didn't comment anything, but you could see that he looked at the fish that swam above his head with curiosity

"That's a nurse shark." You pointed out with a slightly excited smile as you noticed the creature swim behind the glass. Connor looked the way you pointed, raising his brow with calm interest. "Ginglymostoma cirratum. The elasmobranch fish in the family Ginglymostomatidae." He came up with the info on the spot. He knew you were interested in the topic, so he wanted to impress and relate to you. You chuckled softly at his "knowledge" as you lightly punched him in the shoulder. "Hey- I'm supposed to be the fish expert here." You lightheartedly pointed out. "Right. Of course, tell me more then. I'd love to listen." He quickly let you take the scene. You smiled at his mindfulness. "This one's a pilchard. But more commonly known as, well, sardine. The same one you can buy at the market." You came up with more information as you observed Connor listening to you diligently. "It's interesting to actually see them swim in their natural habitat. At least, as natural as you can get." He mentioned lightheartedly. "Yeah. Like, people eat those." You said playfully, watching him smile at your comment.

Time went by quick as you pointed out a lot of fancy and regular fish that appeared near you, excited with each new one that showed on your radar.

Connor loved listening to you express yourself about the thing you were passionate about.

You previously had some worries about him getting bored while you were there, but he never shown a sign of annoyance.

But it couldn't be further from the truth, he was looking at you with never ending curiosity.

Time came for you to visit the touchpool.

"Can you actually touch the fish?" Connor looked at the pool, raising his brow calmly. You chuckled slightly. "Yes. That's what it's for. Go on. Touch the starfish." Connor looked at the water one more time before gently placing his hand inside. You could see the flow of emotions on his face as the invertebrate made contact with his cyberskin. It showed curiosity, then confusion, then a bit of- disgust? He took his hand out slowly, but you could see a bit of aversion in his movement. "Did you not like it?" You asked with a silly smile on your face. "It was- interesting. But i'd rather not touch it again." He commented with fake professionalism, trying to hide his distaste towards the feeling. It made you giggle. "Really? That bad? Aren't you used to touching dead bodies and stuff?" You asked amused. "I am. But that's different. Somehow, this creature seems to- somehow get me. In a bad way." He explained. The fact that Connor, the android who was used to far much worse things than you could survive through, was disgusted by the little starfish made you giggle. "Alright, you don't gotta touch it. But I'll tell you some interesting facts about it instead." You suggested, smiling at him. "Yeah, that sounds good." The corners of his lips turned up as he reciprocated the calm smile.

Connor spent rest of the day with you talking his ear off, but he didn't mind in the slightest, and even asked you for elaboration and more facts on some fish he found interesting with.

He reminisces the trip with you there very fondly, although he gets a bit annoyed when you sometimes tease him about the starfish incident.

In a lighthearted way of course.

【 Ralph 】

He was a bit hesitant to go somewhere where there's a lot of people at first.

His fear of humans still persisted, but it was greatly lessened when he got you in your life.

Although he's still shy and a bit anxious in public.

Nonetheless, when you told him what an aquarium is, he was a bit curious.

You reassured him that if anything happens, you will leave.

He nodded a bit unsure, but he trusted you'd make the right call, so he agreed.

He was very fidgety and anxious at first, but his demeanor changed once he saw the colorful creatures.

Ralph was never in a place with so many different kinds of fish before!

He was probably even more excited than you when he got into the zone.

You tried to pick the rooms with less or zero people around so Ralph would feel more comfortable.

But after he got mesmerized by the fishies, his fear was kinda skimmed over.

He did get scared by a moray eel though.

"Ralph does not like that fish!" He pointed out, upset at the scary monster behind the glass. You laughed softly. "It's a moray eel." "Ralph does not like moray eels." He repeated with a frown, although he was still slightly curious about it. In like a car-crash type of way. You looked around the tank, wanting to find some "nicer" fish to show him. "How about this one?" You pointed out at the sea horse. He looked at it with interest, tilting his head a little, which you thought was very adorable. "Hm... Ralph likes this one better." He said with conviction with made you chuckle slightly. "The males actually carry the eggs." You came up with a random trivia about them. It was actually a decently known fact about them, but Ralph being Ralph obviously didn't know it. "Huh?" He tilted his head once more. "It's to ensure their survival. Both mom and dad work together." You pointed out some more nerdy facts with a smile as you observed his reaction. "Hm... Ralph thinks the seahorses are nice." He came up to the glass, putting his hands on it to get a better view. "And interesting!"

After he got a bit more comfortable being t the aquarium, he would run around the place, following the fishes that swam above his head in the tunnel and ask you about them.

"What's that fish called? And that? And those small ones? Oh, what about that big one!" He pointed out lots of different types, making you a bit lost with answering as his questions were so quickly coming.

He's the type to just- poke the glass.

He's curious, you can't blame him.

He'll stop if you tell him to, though.

If there's a petting pool he must see it.

Tell him how to interact with it beforehand though, as he might get a bit- rough with his touches.

"Ralph put that stingray down!" You were horrified when you noticed him holding the poor creature by the tail. He flinched and dropped it back into the water. "Ralph is sorry- Ralph was just curious-" He said apologetically, putting hands closer to his chest in a nervous manner. "It's- It's okay Ralph, you can try just- petting it. Like that." You reached out your hand to touch the stingray that was swimming by. Ralph looked at you and tried to do the same. "O-okay, Ralph will try." He giggled when his sensors felt the skin of the animal brush against his fingers.

You didn't know what to expect at the aquarium, whether Ralph would like it at all, but you were positively surprised when he wanted to stick around more, even after the workers told you it's gonna close soon.

Overall, he was very excited, and wouldn't mind going there again.

Please tell him more fish facts at home.

[emmynemm]

rather be swimming with you (than drowning in a crowded room)

finnick odair x fem!reader

Summary: You can’t dance. A certain sea green-eyed boy is determined to change that.

Word count: 945 words

A/n: This is the first fic I've ever written, I'm so so sorry if it's ooc or really bad!! This entire thing is purely self indulgent <//3 don’t be too mean English isn’t my first language and I’ll cry about it😕

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

The stars here never shone as bright as they did in the districts.

The logical explanation for it would be just how much the capitol loved lighting, unnecessarily so, to anyone with eyes, it just brought out how ridiculous they looked with their fake whiskers and pulled back faces, but deep down in your heart, there’s a little voice telling you that the reason the stars were barely visible tonight, was because everything beautiful had the awfully restrictive options of hiding under a veil or slowly dying out.

And that’s also precisely how you end up in some sort of hedge maze, aimlessly wandering until the fifth firework show of the night signals the capitolites final hurrah’s of the night. If the escort had picked any other paper slip all those weeks ago, maybe you would’ve been wandering through the forest in your backyard, taking in the smell of pine as you try to spot owls hiding in the trees, or a deer exploring its surroundings.

Instead, you were here.

Here, where ‘natural’ was too ‘unruly’ and ‘uncontrollable’. Here, where the only flora visible was made to look entirely pristine and symmetrical, just as fake as the citizens. In the midst of your brooding of what could’ve been, however, you find yourself in your favourite area of the venue, a lone fountain, hidden away in the middle of the maze, beauty for those that seek it out. It was a serene corner of life, in the midst of a hailstorm. You sit down on the marble ledge taking in the silent contrast of this and the world waiting outside.

Of course, the silence is interrupted in minutes, when the hedges begin to bristle and out comes a boy, with the messiest blond hair, champagne flute in hand, chest bare, and his lower half covered in scales and fishing nets for an outfit. Finnick’s stylists were never the most original pick of the litter. Then again, they didn’t have to, it’s not like capitolites were waiting to see the designers work, and they weren’t hiding the fact, either.

He strolls over, stubborn to maintain his charmer act, and sits down right beside you with a short huff, and simply asks, “You had the misfortune of meeting Clovis, yet?” even the mention of his name makes you want to groan. He was the definition of pushy. “Came here to get away from his line of sight, actually.” you scoff.

“Oh, really?” he flashes a smile, “He must’ve been so excited to ask you for a dance, too…” he muses dramatically. “Would’ve picked the wrong person, either way. Can’t dance for the life of me.” you confess, to the boy’s surprise.

“There’s no way that’s true, not buying it for a second.” and you shrug, “Well, believe it. Never learned.” He laughs, suddenly standing up and holding a hand out expectantly,

“No way,” you scoff, unable to hide the smile creeping up at the gesture. “You can’t tell me you’ve never learned to dance and expect me to let it go. Come on, I don’t bite.” You can’t believe you’re actually agreeing to it, but you’re already up on your feet, pulled up by the boy. The music coming from the venue wasn’t as overbearing in between the hedges as it was in the middle of the crowd, just loud enough for Finnick to catch onto the tempo, “Stand on my shoes.” The statement catches you off guard, “Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll teach you the steps.” So, you indulge, tip toeing on his shoes with your own, your hand locked with his, the other on his shoulder, while his slides to the small of your back, as he starts moving, “All you’re really supposed to do is take a step back, step to the left, bring your right foot to the left.” He demonstrates, before he starts moving you along, repeating the steps in a circle.

“See? You’re a natural,” Finnick remarks, flashing you a more genuine version of the smiles he flaunts at these types of parties, “Probably because I’m doing nothing but standing on your shoes.”

“Okay, fair… your turn to lead,” And so the two of you proceed to dance around the marble water fountain, laughing like the children you should’ve gotten to be a little while longer each time you accidentally step on his foot. His presence is warm, making every misstep you’d usually find yourself feeling embarrassed over, into something that makes the two of you forget everything happening outside of the margins of the hedge maze you two occupy for just a little while.

The fifth firework show of the night sounds, something like a beckoning call for you two to fall back into your capitol façades and make a good final impression for the night. But just to make sure the most vivid memory of the party isn’t the fake smiles you’re cursed to share with ridiculously dressed capitolites for the rest of the night, his eyes linger on your lips, thumb brushing over your lower lip, before he looks back up, giving you a clear out. You don’t pull away, nodding instead, and he pulls you in for a kiss that the both of you seem to linger on for just a little too long. And for a split second, you get to share a moment the capitol isn’t invited to peer into and dissect. Somehow, the stars were shining a little brighter than usual in the capitol tonight.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

A very special thank you to @imsogonesposts and @cr3stawrites for taking the time to look at my early drafts for this☹️☹️💗💗

[angel-writes-here]

Coyote

G-Dragon x AFAB! Reader

Synopsis: Jiyong meets a pretty bar tender with killer moves, and he decides she's his next conquest

Warnings: MDNI! SMUT AHEAD protected sex (Wrap it, friends) fingering, cursing.

A/N: Please be gentle I've never written smut before, so if it sucks I'm sorry! If Jiyong is ooc I'm sorry! Also Coyote Ugly has been up on my tiktok feed recently so that's the kind of vibe I was trying to go for, so I hope it's successful. Go watch the movie if you haven't! 🪽

The music thuds against the speakers, the room full of sweaty drunk people. Your pulse hammers against your chest as you run to and from each end of the bar, keeping up with orders and tabs; Friday nights were always slammed.

Bottles of liquor were scattered on the back shelf, the lights of the bar dim. Keeping up with orders was normally effortless, but tonight you could feel a pair of dark eyes watching your every. Single. Move.

Jiyong had spotted you from across the room, the way your hips rocked to the beat absentmindedly, the way your hair fell in your face when you would turn too quickly to take care of another patron, the way you would flaunt your skills by tossing the bottle in your hand before pouring a drink.

He hadn’t walked over to the bar yet, allowing his friends to get him drinks, but now that he’s seen you, its game on.

You can feel it, the stare, you just can’t place where it’s coming from, is it from the guy who’s clearly been flirting with you all night? The stranger who you’ve served 10 tequila shots to?

Jiyong stalks up to the bar, cool, calm, and calculated.

“What can I get for ya?” Your accent rings out. He smiles; it’s the most adorable thing coming from a woman who looks like sin.

“Another shot of whiskey,” his accent is clear even over the music. You nod and grab the bottle, flipping it for a little bit of a show and pour his shot. He downs it right in front of you and you smirk as you move on to a lady at the other end.

The familiar song begins to play and you hand your bar rag to your co worker and hop up on the bar.

You move flawlessly, hips swinging gracefully, body moving in a way that makes Jiyong’s pants feel just a little too tight. His eyes are glued to your frame as you perform the rehearsed dance routine for the fourth time that night.

When you bend down on the bar you lock eyes with him for a moment before swinging your head around, your hair following suit. You stand up quickly with a pounce of your boots against the wood beneath you. You turn around, shaking your ass to the crowd when your co worker soaks your all-ready small shirt with seltzer. You shriek before small fits of giggles take over and you continue your dance.

The song comes to an end and you make eye contact again with Jiyong as you catch your breath before coming down.

“That was fantastic, baby.” He inwardly cringes at his own pun.

“Thanks,” your smile is bright, warm and contagious.

“Another shot?” your chest is still heaving. He notices the way your shirt clings to you, the way the droplets slowly slide down the mounds on your chest.

“Yeah, I’ll have another.” You quickly pour a shot for him before once again moving on.

---

The next night, you notice he’s back again with his friends, this time he hangs around the bar again.

“Nice to see ya again,” you tip your cowboy hat to him. He smiles genuinely, the alcohol hasn’t quite hit his system yet.

“You too,” he searches your clothes for a name tag as he draws out the last word.

“Y/n.”

God why does your name make his head swim?

“Jiyong,” he nods and you pour another drink. 

“That’s an interesting name,” you comment as you hand it off to the customer.

“’m from Korea,” he explains.

“That makes sense,” you chuckle.

“Same as you had last night?”

“Actually, I was thinking you could make me whatever your specialty is.” You smirk at his attempt to get to know you.

“Since it’s early,” you glance at your watch, “I’ll make ya a white Russian,” his stomach flips as your accent lets loose once again. You fix the drink before sliding it to him. He catches it and takes a sip. You wait for his reaction.

A slight grimace comes across his face before he looks between you and the drink.

“Not a coffee fan?” you ask with an air of assumption.

“Nah, it’s ok, but I bet you taste sweeter,” he smirks. Your cheeks flush slightly, working in a bar you were used to hearing the dirty lines and tricks of the trade, but normally you weren’t attracted to the men who said those things. But tonight, you are.

You let out a nervous sounding giggle as you pay attention to the next person.

He see’s the fluster on your face, he smirks to himself. He doesn’t leave the bar that night, the two of you talking in between customers, spending the night in each other’s company.

Another night, another dance. It’s the same old routine, just with a little flare. Your boots beat against the wooden bar again, your hands sliding up and down your body, before you lower yourself on all fours, this time making sure your new friend gets a good view of both your ass and chest.

He laughs as you shake your chest at him slightly and you bite your lip, his smile causing heat to pool in your stomach. Once the song is over you hop down and continue taking drink orders.

The end of the night comes and you begin to wipe down the bar.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he calls out.

“Nope, tomorrow is my day off.” He stops in his tracks, his friends going on without him, it’s just you, Jiyong and your other coworker not far from you.

“Well that’s a shame, tomorrow’s my last day here,” his frown in evident.

“That does suck. Maybe you’ll just have to come back and see me,” you wink flirtatiously.

“Or,” he begins carefully, “I could wait for you to get finished and I take you out,” his brow is cocked.

“Where are you going to take me at 3 am?” your smirk is sarcastic, playful.

“I hear the Waffle House is real hit,” he shrugs taking his seat at the bar for a moment.

“Boy, Waffle House,” your voice has an air sarcasm, “You sure know how to treat a lady.”

“Well we could skip the meal and go straight to dessert?” His offer is now bold as you watch his eyes not so subtly rake your body.

“To be honest,” you start and put the rag down on the table, “I have a bit of a sweet tooth,” you wink as you round the bar walking up closer to him. He grins.

“Let’s go,”

---

Back at his penthouse it’s a fight between your mouth and his. Both of you needy with lust and passion. This isn’t a normal routine for you, but something about him pulled you in like the tide of an ocean. His hands roam your body, teasingly at first, brushing over your clothed bosom, a small moan coming from your mouth. You feel his smirk against your lips so you decide to run your fingers over his torso, causing goosebumps to litter his skin.

The two of you break apart for a moment, long enough to for Jiyong to pull his shirt off. You barely have a chance to catch another breath before he’s back on you. You can feel the heat in your stomach, the anticipation and anxiety of sleeping with a man you just met all coming together.

He pulls you back to his bedroom, pushing you up against the wall.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he looks at your flushed face. His lips attach to your neck as his hand dips into your pants, feeling how aroused you really are.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he whispers dominantly in your ear.

“Then imagine how good it’ll feel when I really like it,” you say in his ear causing him to groan at the thought of you squeezed around him. He dips a finger into your core, curling it just enough to hit that spot that drives you insane.

This elicits a gasp from you, one that makes Jiyong chuckle darkly.

“Yeah, this what you want? Hm?” Your hips grind down at his words, desperate for friction. A whimper escapes your mouth as you claim his lips in another kiss.

“Fuck-ah-“ you gasp as another digit is suddenly added. Your head falls to his shoulder as your hips once again rock and grind.

“Be a good girl, fuck yourself,” he whispers and your eyes screw shut as you work your hips.

“Mm, so pretty,” he says as he feels your body clench.

“You wanna cum,” he coos and you can’t answer, too focused on the task at hand, feeling that coil of heat begin to build. He pulls his fingers away from you and you gasp.

“What the,” you’re about to protest before he sticks them up in front of his face and he slowly licks his fingers, a moaning type of groan erupting from his throat.

He pulls you to the bed, laying you down before discarding his pants. He selects a condom from his drawer, rolling it on. Your eyes widen at the sight and Jiyong smirks at your expression.

He hovers over you, looking into your eyes for any signs of hesitancy. You nod silently telling him to continue. He slowly enters, the feeling like nothing you’ve had before and you gasp, your back arching off the bed every so slightly. He moans resting his forehead on your shoulder. He sits there for a minute, allowing you time to adjust.

“Y/n, I need to move,” he whispers in your ear sweetly.

“Mhm,” you whimper before his hips begin to rock slowly.

“God you’re so tight,” he grunts.

“Harder,” you urge him while your fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck. He brings his mouth to yours before obeying your words, hitting your sweet spot each time.

“God just like that,” you say against his lips. Moans, whimpers and explicit words fill the room. He reaches a hand down between your bodies rubbing small circles on your bud and your body begins to tense, that familiar sensation of coiling heat returns to your stomach.

“Fucking hell,” you say breathlessly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you bite your lip as his hand moves faster and so do his hips.

“Come on baby, cum for me, show me how good I make you feel,” he says with his forehead on yours, hips moving almost impossibly faster.

“Oh, God,” your eyes screw shut as your body shakes, the waves of pleasure washing over you. Jiyong doesn’t stop, milking every bit of your pleasure out of you before he’s biting down on your shoulder.

“Fuck,” he whimpers as his own pleasure catches up with him, and he releases himself into the condom. The two of you stay still for a brief moment before he pulls out, pulling off the condom and throwing it in the trash.

He pulls you into him.

“God you’re perfect,” he says before capturing your lips. You giggle before kissing him back.

“Was that sweet enough for you?” you smirk brining up his dessert comment from back at the bar. He smirks before diving down to your slit.

“I need to be sure I get a good taste before I answer,” his tongue is out and licking up your mess before you can protest and your hips buck at the overstimulation.

“Ah, shit,” he smirks against your before continuing to taste you.

“Mmm,” he moans as he kisses his way up your body, “Yeah, definitely sweet enough."

[smilley-mcb]

“Will there be reunion?”

Mydei x reader

Words count: 865

Warning: angst, might be ooc, no comfort, reader is a nameless, Spoiler for main quest ver 3.1, fanfiction

Pt.1

—————————————————————

Hair strands sway in the air. The sky in Amphoreus is still as bright as ever. With the sound of the bustling city, this scenery would be one of the kind for anyone who takes a look from where you stand. Yet, your mind is nowhere near to enjoying the view. Your ears catch the sound of footsteps approaching you from behind.

“So you are here”

A low voice calls out to you.

“Lord Mydei…”

Your voice weakly leaves your lips.

“Are you here to say goodbye?” You continue, back still turning to him.

“So you have heard. Is it from Phainon?”

“Is that important right now?”

You retort back, much to his surprise. The girl who would usually talk with such kindness in her words now making every letter out of her lips sounds so sour. Mydei falls in silence, not knowing how to continue the conversation. And before he can say any words, you cut through his thoughts.

“You choose to leave without any notice. You choose to… leave… without telling me anything!”

You turn to face him. Not a single tear fall on your face but oddly from his perspective, you clearly look like you are in a lot of pain. Your expression distorts into heartbroken, sad and even a hint of reproach.

“Do you truly have to do this?”

“This is my duty. I have to”

“Will you ever come back?”

Following a hesitation from Mydei, he shakes his head slightly.

“Likely no”

Determination swims in his eyes. Those beautiful pupils look back at you just like everyday. But instead of giving you the warm feeling like it normally would, it’s making you feel stupid right now. Mydei looks so calm, as if you are the only one affected by this decision. You have only known him for a few weeks since you, Dan Heng and Stelle were attacked and fell into Amphoreus. Yet, during those few weeks, you and Mydei had somehow grown closer than everyone else. And now he’s telling you he��s leaving? And he feels completely okay with that?

You don’t even know what to feel right now. Should you be mad? Should you feel betrayed or be supportive of his decision? Now, you are not some princess that would throw a tantrum and refuse to understand why he has to do this. But it just hurts so much. It feels like the world just drops onto your entire being. The thought of never seeing Mydei again in your life is like a tear to every single tissue of your heart.

Looking at you, your painful expression is eating Mydei’s inside up. For a brief second, there is a wavering thought somewhere in his mind about this decision. Unfortunately, the hesitation was quickly eliminated as soon as it appeared. Mydei doesn’t want to leave you like this. Heck, he even feels like beating himself up for making you feel like that. But this is his duty, for Amphoreus, for his citizens and…for you.

A quiet apology falls from his lips.

“I’m sorry”

“…regret…”

“What?”

“I regrets it”

You turn your gaze straight up to his eyes. But instead of sadness and heartbreak, right now in your eyes, there are hate, hurt and regrets.

“Mydeimos… I regret ever meeting you. Maybe if I didn’t go with Dan Heng and Stelle to get here, I wouldn’t get hurt like this! I wouldn’t have my heart broken in the first place!”

A glance of surprise takes over Mydei’s expression. Somewhere in his heart, there is a painful feeling starting to spread throughout his entire being. He has done it. He broke you into pieces. The realization is not completely unexpected but when Mydei sees it with his own eyes, it hits him like a thousand attacks from the battle with Nikador he just fought.

“Go…do what you have to do”

You shift your gaze down to your feet, no longer wanting to look at him. You are afraid, afraid that if you look up at him, you will just have to get on your knees and beg him to not leave you. Begging him to not go and stay here with you.

Mydei feels his body become numb from all the pain that he’s having. Unlike many other scars and wounds he had endured in battles, this pain is unbearable, taking him to the ground, feeling like succumbing to it, giving it all up to stay back. But he can’t. He has to do it.

On that note, Mydei takes one last gaze at you. Those soft features that he secretly admires so much may not be presented in his life ever again. Such kindness that he received from you was heavenly. You had made him feel alive and mortal the past few weeks. And he has the audacity to break it. He crumples it to the ground, all of it. He breaks you, his precious princess.

Having a painful look in his eyes, Mydei let determination continue to drive him. Turning on his back and walking away. Away from you. Forever.

Leaving a small figure standing there, feeling like the end of the world just fell upon her.

—————————————————————

Hope u guys have a good cry.

English is not my first language so please spare me if you see any grammar errors 🙏

I’ll post pt2 and pt3 soon.

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field XVI

summary: you can finally go home.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do.). implications and mentions of abuse and some non-graphic violence, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation.

a/n: i can't believe this is it :') the final part (excluding the epilogue which is coming v soon). thank you all so so so much for all the love on this fic! it means so much to me that you guys enjoyed it! but don't get too sad (like me) bc i am not ready to let them go so i'll probably do like blurbs and stuff ab this series so stick around for those!

series masterlist // playlist

"Y/N/N. Do you have your clothes from home?" Coryo asks, pulling the boat back up onto the shore. The guns were gone. He's free to go home if he wants.

"Yes." You nod. "I couldn't get rid of them if I wanted." You chuckle, looking up into the woods behind the cabin, hoping Sejanus is long gone by now.

"Okay. You're gonna stay here, just for a few days, and then I'll come get you before the train leaves. I'll take you to Two with me, just wear those. You'll fit in better."

"Okay..." You nod, nervous about being out here all alone for so long.

"I'll come bring you food as much as I can." He knew it would be a long hike each way to come see you, but he would have to carve out the time. He looks up at you quickly from digging through his own bag when he hears you sniffle. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I- uhm..." You clear your throat, fanning your eyes to keep any tears from falling. "I'm just scared." You try and laugh it off, shaking your head slightly.

"Don't be scared." Coryo shakes his head, dropping the bag to grab your shoulders. "Hey, you're gonna be okay, Darling, but we don't have another choice. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"I know, I know that..." You sniff, looking up at him. "Is she dead?"

"Yes." He answers quickly. "I buried her. She can't hurt you." He promises. Was that true? No, definitely not. There was no trace of her after the shot besides her earring on the ground,  but he had hit her. He was sure of it. There was no reason to tell you that, though, just to scare you more. You couldn't go back to town, there was nowhere for you to hide while peacekeepers searched every inch of the populated part of the District for days while he waited for his train.

"Okay." You whisper, taking a deep, shakey breath as you look around at the suddenly scary forested area around you. The rain had started to clear up, which helped with the sun peeking through the clouds to brighten up the lake. If Lucy Gray hadn't ruined everything, you would probably be getting ready to keep moving.

"Just, try to relax out here. Okay? Go for a swim, just enjoy the fresh air." He smiles softly, brushing some hair back out of your face as he tries to make you feel better.

"I've had enough of the woods for the rest of my life." You scoff, shaking your head under his hold.

"I know, Y/N/N, I'm sorry. It's only a few days. Like I said, I'll come back for you whenever I'm free." Even if he could only stay for five minutes before he had to turn around and make the trip back to town, he would do it. "Then we'll figure everything out. I'll handle it."

"I... I just want to go home, but I can't." You cry, letting him wipe your tears as your chest flushes with the emotion.

Coryo winces at your tears. He hates seeing you cry, and he has seen it far more times than he would have liked to in the last few months. "I'm going to figure it out. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise." He says softly, trying to get you to look at him.

You lean into his palm, closing your eyes as you try desperately to pull it together. You were exhausted, but this was the last thing Coryo needed right now. "I'm sorry. I'm just having a moment."

"I know. You're okay." He chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling you into a hug, rocking your body gently back and forth. "You know, I think the last time you said that to me was the day I realized I was in love with you." He hums, squeezing your shoulders gently.

You laugh, which makes him smile. It's what he wanted. "I feel like that's a bit dramatic."

"No, it's true." He grins, craning his neck to look down at you. "You defended me, and you listened to me, and you looked just so pretty doing it..."

You bury your face in his shirt to hide your blush.

"You're always on my team, and I appreciate that. I really do." He explains, satisfied that he's made you feel at least a little better. "I hope you know I'm always on your side, too."

You nod slightly, smiling through your tears as you look up at him. "I know."

"Good." Coryo whispers, kissing your nose. "I love you."

"Really?" You whisper, eyes lighting up as you wring your hands together against his chest in front of you. "You're not just saying that because I'm crying on you?" You laugh slightly.

"No, I do." He nods in confirmation, grinning down at you in admiration. "There's no one else in this world I can trust as much as I can trust you."

"Then why'd you give her your scarf?" You ask, tilting your head. "It looked... valuable."

"It was. It belonged to my mother..." He says solemnly. He suddenly shakes his head, mocking your expression as he changes the tone. "You really were dead to the world, huh? I was holding it, and she just asked if she could see it. Then she didn't give it back." Coryo explains, raising an eyebrow at you. "Why, are you jealous of the dead girl?"

You roll your eyes with a smile on your face, attempting to shove him away.

"Hey, I'm kidding." He laughs, pulling you close again by your wrists. "Don't you trust me?"

"Okay, yes, I trust you." You giggle as he drops your wrists, sliding his hands over your waist.

"And you love me?" Coryo asks, urging you on.

"And I love you." You grin, nodding slightly.

"That's my girl..." He hums, running a hand lower down your side, thumb running over your midsection as he leans in to kiss you. He had you right where he wanted you, he'd wanted to say that for ages. Only since he even clued into the fact that the buzz he gets under his skin when he catches you smiling, anyway. Realistically, you were something he had always wanted. Picturing his future over the last few years when he was dragging himself out of bed every morning desperate to arrive to class on time even on an empty stomach, his daydreams of his success always included your own, as well.

Now, it was only the two of you. He was so right about you, you were perfect in every way. Smart, obedient to him and only to him, but you fought for what you wanted. You knew struggle, pressure, and soul crushing expectations in the same way he did. Through all of it, you were there for him. You were beautiful- and he was the only one smart enough to see past your occasional outbursts. No one knew how to navigate you like he did, and he was lucky that few people ever bothered to try.

The most beautiful girl in all of the Capitol, and you were his. He meant it when he said that he would never let anyone hurt you. He couldn't let anyone take you from him.

"Do you know where we're going? Where Tigris and your Grandma'am are living?" You whisper, curled up next to Coryo on the train as it pulls into the Capitol station. You're holding the orange silk scarf in your hands, using it as a small blanket in the cold train car. You had spent most of your time out by the lake trying to clean it- but dirt was a stubborn stain. You'd have to be more thorough once you had access to cleaning supplies again. You couldn't let such a lovely piece of clothing go to waste, especially when it was so valuable to him.

"I don't..." Coryo mumbles in response, staring out the window as you lean your head against his shoulder, knees tucked up to your chest. "They shouldn't be hard to find, though."

The wheels screech to a slow stop in the familiar city, and you can't help but smile at the endless sea of grey architecture. It wasn't anything like the forest in Twelve, and you loved it. The door slides open and some peacekeepers enter, drawing both of your attention as you sit up away from him.

"Dr. Gaul is expecting you both in her lab immediately." One of them informs you, and you nod a little bit, looking nervously over at your boyfriend.

You hung off his arm for the entire car ride and all the way to the lab as you're escorted by the men in the matching uniform to his own. Your clothes were dirty, despite how many times you cleaned them back in District Twelve. You had cleaned them obsessively throughout the last couple of months, but the water was never quite clear enough to be helpful. It was vile. Surely you smell unpleasant due to this, and you were hoping you would have a shower before confronting anyone from your previous life, but clearly, you weren't so lucky.

"Do I stink?" You whisper, trying to avoid the echo of the large room as your heels click across the linoleum flooring.

"Not any more than I do." Coryo answers, a small smile pulling on his lips as he glances down at you.

You giggle, gently slapping his chest as he removes his hat.

"Congratulations, Mister Snow, Miss Y/L/N. You've passed all my tests." You look up at Dr. Gaul for the first time as she speaks to you, tossing something into a pool on her floor. "I've asked President Ravenstill to grant you both a full pardon, effective immediately."

You don't say anything as you both stop in front of the tank in the ground, staring into it as Coryo revels in the shock. "I also told him that you are too promising to be wasted in the Districts. So you will be studying under me at the Capitol University."

While she speaks, you pull Tigris's coat tighter around yourself at the slimy, vicious look of whatever creatures are splashing around inside that tank that she is continuously feeding.

"We can't afford university." Coryo answers on your behalf, forcing you to look up at the woman across from you. While you were incredibly grateful, you were scared. Things were complicated back at your parents' home, and even with a legal form of forgiveness, it's not likely your father will see it the same way. You couldn't go back, and he wasn't likely to give you a dime or let you go free. Within the week, you'd probably die from an "unknown illness" contracted in the Districts if he found out you were home.

"A certain Mister Strabo Plinth has offered to pay for everything you need while you're there. All for being such good friends to his Sejanus." Dr. Gaul explains and your heart drops in your chest. You can't help but wonder if he's even still alive out there, in the North. "He doesn't know quite how good a friend you were, of course. I never mentioned your little recording. Quite impressive, Mister Snow, how you sent your only friend to the grave just to get my attention."

"That's not what I did." Coryo shakes his head at the allegation.

He squeezes your arm in warning, knowing this topic was a fine line to walk. "Are you sure? Because I think that won you the Plinth Prize, after all."

"Sejanus Plinth is not dead." You blurt out without thinking. She tilts her head at you, looking at you intensely, a knowing smile growing on her lips.

"Oh?" She asks, and internally you struggle for a saving grace while Coryo furrows his brow at you. You hadn't seen Sejanus since you sent him away, but you did try looking for him in your days out there alone. You had to believe he was alive, after you gave him his way out.

"Well, I heard that he had escaped in Twelve. As far as I know, they never found a body. He planned on running off anyway. That's likely what he did." You explain, clearing your throat.

"I agree. That is likely, but the odds he would survive out there..." She shakes her head slightly, dropping another treat into the tank as the creatures snap at it. "Anyway, the president has agreed to another year of the games! People watched, and I have you kids to thank for that."

You and Coryo wear matching grins now, posture perfect to match your collective pride.

"But before I take you under my wing, after everything you've seen out there in the real world, let me ask you one final time." Dr. Gaul says, looking pointedly between the two of you. "What are the Hunger Games for?"

You look up at your boyfriend, nodding for him to answer. "I used to think that the Hunger Games were a punishment for the districts. Then, I thought they served as a warning to us here in the capitol, about the threat the districts posed. Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need the Hunger Games every year to remind us all who we truly are."

"And who are you, do you determine?" Coryo looks down at you as she speaks.

"We are the Victors." You finish with a proud smile, looking at the woman across from you who seems more than pleased with your answer.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing back so soon?" Your mom greets him as she opens the door of your childhood home, smiling sadly, confused as to the condition of his return.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am." He smiles politely, grey uniform cap now clutched to his chest. "I proved to be exceptional in my training. Dr. Gaul saw it was better Y/N and I work under her at the University."

"Y/N?" Your mom gasps, reaching up to cover her mouth with her hand. "She's alive?"

"I assure you, she is safe." Coriolanus nods. "Now, may I speak with your husband? I won't take up much of his time." He brushes past her, entering the home without waiting for permission.

"Well, dear, where is she?" Your mom asks, letting him pass and closing the door quickly. "Why hasn't she come home?"

"I think you know why she hasn't come here." He hums, looking around. "Where is he?"

"His study." Your mom answers quietly, gesturing up the stairs. "I'll walk you."

"No need. I know where I'm going." He gives her a small smile in return, following the familiar path toward your room.

He stops in front of your father's study, knocking before taking a step back. The force of habit leads him to stand at attention while he waits for permission to enter.

"I'm busy, don't bother me." Your father's voice echoes through the ornate lining on the door. Then he realizes, he doesn't need permission. Not anymore.

Coriolanus huffs, opening the door and stepping in.

"I said-" Your father growls, slamming his pen down on the desk before he looks up and takes in the grey of Coriolanus's decorated peacekeeper uniform. "Coriolanus."

"Sir." He nods in response, closing the door quietly behind himself. "May I sit?" He asks coldly, gesturing to the chair across from him.

"Please." Your father nods, brow furrowed as to what the blonde boy could possibly want, or what he is doing back so soon.

"Y/N isn't here, son." Your father sighs. "She-"

"I know that." Coriolanus interrupts, placing his hat on the desk between them.

"You know where she is." Your father's tone is unsurprised, but questioning.

"I do." He confirms, back straight in the chair. He had always been afraid of your father, but this was built on an admiration. He reminded him of what little he remembered about his own father. This morphed into anger slowly but surely over the last few years, picking up several hints either in your appearance, demeanor, or choice of words which painted an incredibly unflattering picture of who the man sitting in front of him truly was.

Your dad hums in response, eyes locked on the boy. "How was your summer?"

The question catches Coryo off guard, but he puts all his focus into maintaining his poise. He has the upper hand, here, and he has to keep reminding himself of that. "It was good. Certainly an eye-opening experience, the people out there are very... different."

"Then what brought you back so soon?" His neglect to even ask where you were, if you were okay, if you were even alive makes Coryo's blood boil in his veins.

"Dr. Gaul." Coriolanus states, swallowing before he continues. "She granted your daughter and I a full pardon in exchange for taking an internship under her at the university. After all, that is her dream, is it not?"

Your father's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of your name. "It was." He agrees.

"Is." Coriolanus corrects him, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "Strabo Plinth has offered to pay our way."

"Of course he has." Your dad chuckles, but not an ounce of humour reaches his eyes. "Self righteous bastard..."

"Seeing as you don't care about her as much as you care about your own reputation, he saw it would be a way to repay her for her loyal friendship to his son. She saved his life twice, after all." Coryo ignores your father's comment, watching as the gears turn in his head, trying to remember the second time.

"I know you think you understand my daughter, Coriolanus, but there are some parts of her you will never know. Not truly." Your father responds coolly. "So, I'm not sure what she has told you, but-"

"But nothing." Coryo cuts him off, leaning back in his seat. "Here is what is going to happen. You will have nothing to do with her, her life, her mistakes, or her decisions any longer. Since, in your own words, you see her as such a burden, I am willing to free you of that."

Your dad grits his teeth together, and it's his turn to lean forward. "Coriolanus Snow, you will not speak to me that way in my own home. Y/N is my daughter, and I shall be involved as I please and I shall do with her what I deem appropriate to consequent her actions."

"No." Coryo replies sternly, standing up abruptly, unabashed by the sound of the chair scraping across the wooden floor as he slams his fist on the desk. "She is eighteen. I  take responsibility for her now, and unless you want to lose everything you and Highbottom have built, you will cut me in on every dime you make. Do you understand?"

Your dad laughs again. "And who will believe you, Coryo? You're just kids. You don't know what you're talking about. Whatever she told you is untrue. Simple as that."

"Would you like a list?" Coryo threatens. "Is that a risk you're willing to take, Y/D/N?"

He sighs, standing up to look eye to eye with him, clearly seething with the disrespectful use of his first name. "She's more trouble for you than it's worth, Son."

"That is my decision to make." Coryo says through gritted teeth.

"Suit yourself." Your dad raises his hands in defeat, careful to not show any fear. Coriolanus could see through it, though. He's won, and he knows it; it was a great deal, if your father was smart enough to see it that way. "How much do you want? Money is nothing to me."

"More than Highbottom gets." Coriolanus requests plainly, grabbing his hat and placing it back over his head. "And you'll pay for our wedding." He adds casually, pushing the discarded chair back into its place. "You'll pay for as many dresses and parties as she wants, every drink, every slice of cake, and every last flower she wishes for exactly how she wishes for it. No compromises, and no surprise appearances from you. Are. We. Clear?" He speaks clearly, intentionally enunciating every word with a trace of venom.

"Crystal." Your father scoffs, taking a drink from the whiskey glass on his desk.

Coriolanus nods, giving him a small smile. "Good. I'll be expecting the money orders every other week." He grins smugly, giving your father a quick bow before heading for the door, stopping as his hand brushes over the handle. "All due respect, Sir, which I deem to be very little, but what you have done to your daughter over all these years is what has made her into the woman you hate. Don't think I was the only one who noticed, and you would deserve every bit of harm we could do to your name. If you ever so much as speak to her again, I will kill you myself."

Coryo glances back at your father's expression only briefly before leaving. He couldn't resist the satisfying look of loathing and anger on the man's face.

The small smile sticks as he walks down the stairs, hearing the crystal glass shatter as it's thrown against the door behind him.

Finally, you were totally even.

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