#and then he'd look me in the eyes and tell me that he's always there for me :''')

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

CASUAL — lando norris (smut, angst, nsfw)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: whatever you and lando have, it's anything but 'casual'. warnings: smut 18+, a LOT of angst, mdni, fingering, oral (f receiving), (situationship?) a/n: i lowkey want chappell roan's casual to be inserted into my brain and OMG this one is too sad

"nah, nah. the two of us... it's complicated, y'know? just a casual thing, honestly."

the words echoed in your mind on the flight from london, replaying as the seatbelt sign dinged off.

casual.

the word had always carried a negative connotation, but hearing him say it made you feel so much worse. it made you feel insignificant, as if the months that had passed meant nothing to him, while it had meant so much more to you.

you were anything but casual.

all those nights, the mornings after, the kisses, the rendezvouses. they meant something, didn't they? you thought they did, at least.

the way he'd look at you when the lights dimmed and his voice would turn soft. the way he'd kiss you as if it was what he was made to do.

he knew every inch of you. every freckle, every curve. he knew you better than he knew the tracks he raced on.

but, then again, lando norris was never known for being reliable.

he was young and wild and carefree, a bachelor to be envied by all. a party boy, a flirt, a ladies' man. he was charming and he knew it.

he was good at making people believe that they were special.

everyone loved him. the oh-so charming lando norris. the young driver who had a bright future ahead of him. he was bound to get whatever he wanted, right?

the first night he touched you, the two of you had come to an agreement—no attachment. he made it clear that he didn't have time for anything serious, but that he would love to have fun with you.

you, of course, had agreed to that.

in the beginning it was nothing. 'accidentally' crashing into each other at parties, accompanying the other into hotel rooms, and then disappearing as soon as the sun rose.

but do these 'no attachments' things ever work? it wasn't even a complete month before the two of you became more and more involved and realised you weren't just having fun.

as you exited the airplane, your heart clenched at the thought. the two of you had never actually said anything, but it was there, hanging in the air, almost suffocating you.

the first time you realised it wasn't just fun, you were in the passenger seat of his mclaren. he was on his knees, big blue eyes staring into yours as he flicked his tongue in you. you were so close, you had been for a while. he could tell. his eyes were locked onto yours, a glint of smugness in them. and then, with the tip of his finger, he brought you over the edge.

after you both came, he had crawled into the driver's seat and smiled at you. his lips glistened, his chin damp, and his hair sticking up in places.

"you look beautiful." he said, a hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"i think i like you." his voice was barely a whisper, and if you hadn't been staring right into his eyes you might've missed what he said.

"yeah, me too." your voice was breathless.

and that was the only time either of you'd ever said anything about it.

was it casual?

then, that one time when you had flown to his family home in the uk and met his parents. they'd welcomed you with open arms and treated you like one of their own, and lando's face had glowed with joy the whole time.

"i still can't believe that lando has such a pretty girlfriend." his mom had said to you, giggling as the two of you shared a bottle of wine.

"mom!" lando had whined from the other room. "can't you just shut up for once?"

"oh, hush! i'm just saying it as it is." she shrugged.

you had blushed furiously at her words, looking down at your feet as you took another sip of the expensive italian wine.

you had thought he would deny the 'girlfriend' title, or at least laugh it off, but he didn't. instead, he grinned like an idiot and you wondered if the wine had gone to his head.

"yeah, guess i got lucky." he'd muttered, and his mom had smiled, nodding knowingly.

when the day ended, you had fallen asleep curled up next to him, his body warmth enveloping you like a blanket.

now, your eyes stung as you walked through the airport, a million thoughts running through your mind.

you'd spent the rest of the week there and it was the best time you'd had in a while. he'd taken you on a day-trip to oxford, but the two of you ended up staying the night at some cottage. he'd held you closer, kissed you harder. you slept together as many times as you could.

fuck, you weren't just casual.

and the time the you woke up in each other's arms, his face buried in your hair, hands wrapped around your waist. he had asked you what your plans for the future were.

"get an apartment in monaco right next to yours so that i can stalk you everyday. binoculars and everything." you had joked.

"really? not gonna say you're going to marry me and have a billion kids and we're gonna grow old together?"

you'd looked up at him, eyebrows raised. and then the two of you had burst out laughing.

"what the fuck, lando. i'm not having a billion kids with you."

he just smirked in response.

or the time when the two of you vacationed in italy with his friends, and at the pier he had introduced you as his 'hotshot pr girl'.

"he's paying me a million dollars to pretend to be his girlfriend because he doesn't like being called a virgin."

"hey!" he'd laughed, nudging you.

"shut up, loser."

and then you'd pushed him into the water.

"i'm never talking to you again." he'd pouted.

"oh yeah, find someone else to have your billion kids with. my uterus will be happy."

or the countless times he would call you in the middle of the night and tell you about his new merch drop, and you'd whine about how it was 2 in the morning and you couldn't give a flying fuck.

and when you had just gotten off the phone with his sister, "flo is such a sweetheart, i love her."

"my sister talks to you more than she talks to me. you know she likes you better, right?" he'd mumbled, looking offended.

"what can i say, i'm such a charmer." you'd said in the most british accent you could muster, and he'd rolled his eyes and shoved your face away.

december came, and cisca invited you to celebrate christmas with them.

"if he doesn't ask you to be his girlfriend, promise me you'll tell him it's over." your best friend has said, looking at you sternly.

you had just sighed in response, shaking your head.

"i'm serious. you don't deserve someone like that. not if he doesn't think you're worth the commitment."

"you're right. i know. i'm just... i'm just scared. i like him so much. i don't know what to do."

the morning of christmas, you'd landed in london and gone straight to his place. he was all dressed up, and you'd almost cried at how gorgeous he looked.

"merry christmas, darling." he'd murmured, and you'd melted at his words. he welcomed you with a kiss, the way he always did.

the day was spent exchanging gifts with his family, watching christmas movies and cuddling under blankets.

his family adored you.

"i'm glad you're here." he said.

"where else would i be?"

"anywhere else."

you smiled at him, and he returned it with a cheshire cat one.

that night, the two of you had been invited to dinner with his parents, and halfway through the meal you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

as you stood there washing your hands, you'd heard the door swing open, and the familiar figure appeared next to you, locking the door behind him.

"lando."

"yeah?"

"what are you doing?"

"i need to wash my hands." he'd shrugged.

you raised a brow at him, looking at him pointedly.

he shrugged again, taking a step towards you.

"you look too good in this dress, can't help it."

you rolled your eyes as he stepped closer to you, fingers about to grasp your waist before you told him to back off.

"what?"

"wash your hands first. didn't you come here to wash your hands? there's no way in hell i'm letting greasy salmon fingers touch me."

and then the two of you had laughed before his lips found yours lips. it felt so natural, the way your body reacted to his touch or the way your lips melted into his.

"lando, we shouldn't." you protested, neck arching as he pressed kisses everwhere.

"shut up." he grabbed your waist before pushing you against the counter, his lips crashing back into yours.

"what happened to your hands? i told you to wash them."

"fuck the hands."

"technically-"

"shut the fuck up." he groaned, dipping a finger between your thighs. "you're dripping. fucking hell."

pulling his fingers out, his knee pushed your thighs apart, spreading your legs apart.

you gasped, shifting your hands as you balanced yourself against the counter. his eyes locked in yours as his finger dragged across your core.

"fuck, baby, you're so pretty." he whispered, eyes digging into yours.

"lando, please."

"please what?" he asked as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your eyes squeezed shut, head leaning against the mirror behind you. "oh, fuck."

"i asked a question."

you were quick to answer, fisting his shirt as his fingers moved inside you. "please fuck me, oh my god."

he smirked before dropping to his knees, spreading your thighs and pressing his tongue onto your clit. you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth sucking at your clit; eyes rolling back.

his hands grabbed your legs, swinging them over his shoulder. hand sprawled over your stomach, pushing you back against the counter.

when his tongue curled into you, brushing that spot he never failed to miss, you couldn't help but let a loud moan escape you.

lando hushed you; tapping your thigh. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando said through heavy breaths before pushing his face back into you.

biting into your lip, your fingers ran through his curls, admiring the sight of his head moving between your thighs.

your moans filled the small bathroom, the sound like music to his ears.

"lando," your voice was shaky, breath hitching as he picked up the pace, his hands pushing your hips down.

he hummed in response, the vibration sending waves throughout your body.

"oh, god, lando. right there, right there. oh fuck."

and then your body was trembling, and you were gripping his hair, his tongue still moving.

you were seeing stars, vision going white as your legs quivered around his face.

"oh, god." you sighed, chest rising and falling as he pulled his fingers out, smirking up at you.

"c'mon baby, give me one more."

it wasn't casual.

now, walking through the terminal, dragging your suitcase behind you, the tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

maybe he said 'casual' just to tell his friends he was still a player. or maybe, he was referring to the fact that the two of you were just friends who hooked up sometimes.

but whatever he meant, it wasn't the truth.

both of you knew it.

casual wasn't the way he held you close during thunderstorms, wasn't the way he'd make sure coffee was the perfect temperature, wasn't the way he'd look at you as if the world stopped turning.

the way he'd stare into your eyes as the lights turned off, the way he'd press a kiss onto your temple, the way he'd say your name.

it wasn't casual.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hii suzu!! So, i dunno if this particular idea already been asked. So if it's already done, please don't mind this one!

Reader edging scara. Like, really, really edging n teasing him for a full whole day. Making out, Slipping hand to his thigh under the table while in meeting.. Stopped rubbing him through his pants right when he's almost reach climax.. Etc.

So when back on bed at night? Scara couldn't handle it anymore and fucking reader roughly without mercy. Maybe even a hint of mind break on reader side. (Sorry if this doesn't make sense, english is hard. ;-;)

That's all, go wild with this one if you decided to write this! i hope you have a good day, suzu! Love your writings as always <3 don't forget to take care of yourself 💕

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Masturbation. Orgasm denial. Brat taming. Cunnilingus. Degradation. Edging. Mind break. Dom! Scaramouche.

Thank you very much, dear❤️ Sorry this took a bit to get to. You take care of yourself too🥺

The state you are reduced to now was a far cry from your earlier demeanor. You'd been an absolute menace today. It started with your hand on his thigh, your lithe little fingers stroking and teasing him outside his shorts under the table. All the while smiling politely while he struggled to keep up with the meeting.

Usually it was his fingers teasing between your legs during a meeting, pumping them in and out of your sopping cunt, drinking in the sight of watching you struggle. What was making you so bold?

After the meeting, abruptly condensed and cut short, your lips had been sweet and hungry on his. You'd taken his dick from his shorts, exploring his mouth and letting him wrestle your tongue into submission. You pumped and stroked your hand on his straining cock until he was whimpering into your mouth, rutting into your hand like a mutt in heat.

But you, for some reason, had to push him even further. He'd been about to put you on your knees, and force his cock past your lips. Stroking your hair while he bobbed your head, promising to fuck you full tonight, that cumming down your throat would have to appease you for now. Good girls deserve a treat to tide them over.

He didn't get to. You took your hand away before he could cum. Leaving him frustrated the rest of the day.

Now look at you. His mouth on your pussy was reducing you to the same state you'd left him in earlier.

"Impatient slut," Scaramouche growled, tightening his fingers on your thighs. "You want to tell me what you were trying to pull earlier," He swirled his tongue around your clit. The throbbing in your clit made you gasp, squirming as you grinded your pussy on his mouth.

"I just..I just.." You were struggling to find the right words. Each lick and caress of his tongue was teetering you closer to the edge. Agonizingly slow. You pushed his mouth down onto your cunt. "I just wanted your attention," You managed to whimper.

He groaned into your pussy, latching his lips onto your clit. As sweet as you sounded, there was no way he was going to get ahead of himself and lose control. You needed to be broken, just a little bit. Which meant you would absolutely shatter like glass.

"You wanted my attention that badly? I was going to stuff your greedy cunt full regardless," He hissed, narrowing his eyes in a glare up at you. "You really are a fucking slut," He hooked two fingers abruptly inside of you. He needed to hear you beg while he kept you right on the edge of cumming.

"Only your fingers?!" You protested, rocking your hips up. Your body had been burning and aching for him all day. And now he was only making you ache worse. Your desperate moans more than told you could hardly stand it any more.

"You brat," Scaramouche hissed, reaching down to palm and rub his straining cock. He couldn't deny he loves it when you get like this. He was only going to enjoy putting you in your place that much more.

Tears welled into your eyes as you looked down at him. You waited, your body tense and twitching in anticipation. Anticipation of more degradation from him, a more brutal pace of his fingers. Something, anything. But you got nothing.

Nothing but his tongue and his fingers abusing your dripping hole and your swollen clit. This was clearly about his pleasure now. It was almost unbearable for you. He could tell in the way your body twitched as he latched his lips around your clit. He casually hooked his fingers into your sweet spot, only giving you the slightest jolt of pleasure before taking it away.

You broke best that way.

"Tell me slut, do you want to cum?" A smirk coiled on the corners of his lips. The longer he brutally edged you, the deeper the look of desperation in your watery eyes.

"Yes, so badly," You moaned, grinding shamelessly on his mouth, trying to urge his lips and tongue firmer on your clit. You needed him so badly it hurt. You tugged on his hair to emphasize your pleas.

"Hmm?" He prodded his tongue on your sensitive clit, making your legs quake as you rolled your hips up. "That's too bad," He taunted, laughing softly into your pussy. It made his cock pulse to deny you the same you had earlier.

He hooked his fingers generously for the first time into your sweet spot, curling it extra before pulling them from your pussy. You cried out in both bliss and protest before you were unceremoniously flipped over onto your stomach.

"Ass up, whore," From his tone you knew he wasn't going to be gentle. Your cunt clenched at the thought. You raised your ass up, going down onto your elbows and giving him a view of your sopping cunt. "Bratty sluts like you need to be bred into their place."

Your pussy clenched around nothing as he pinched and rubbed your clit. You yelped in bliss feeling his hand smack roughly on your ass, making you arch your back as you grinded on his cock. Fuck you are so irresistible like this, craving his every touch.

Grasping his cock, Scaramouche moaned as he pushed it slowly inside. He bottomed out with a fluid thrust. The tight feeling of your pussy sucking him in made him lose control then.

He pulled out, only to stuff his cock back into your pussy all at once. It didn't take him long to set a brutal pace, his hands grasping your hips possessively. Fucking you roughly from behind was a dominant way for him to break you.

"Scara! Scara! I can't..breathe," You moaned, his cock head hammering into your sweet spot made your head spin. You moaned like you were finally getting something you were denied for years.

Scaramouche's cock squelched loudly in and out of you. "Going from teasing like a slut, to moaning like a slut," He laughed as your walls clutched around his cock, "Fuck, you feel so tight," He lost himself in taking the frustration of being teased by you earlier out on your pussy.

He still held your orgasm in the palm of his hand. He was dangling the promise right in front of you, little by little. "Please, please, I'm sorry. Just let me cum," You sobbed in pleasure, clawing at the sheets before reaching down to rub your clit.

Scaramouche batted your hand away, helping you along himself. You had a certain way of moaning right before cumming. He knew the moment your mind essentially shattered. Your body felt more pliable in his hands. "Yes, that's my good girl. Break just like I want," He groaned.

[tpwk-formula1]

Hiii! Just read your fist pizza order and I looooved it so I thought I might as well give you some writing to do!

Could I please have a pizza with cauliflower crust, Alfredo sauce, banana peppers and broccoli? With some sprite and lemonade and dessert please! And served by franco (I need him to be the sunshine in this)!

Thank you so so much 🥰🥰

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

cauliflower grumpy x sunshine Alfredo sauce sweet sex banana peppers "Look so pretty riding my cock" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" sprite size kink lemonade body worship dessert yes served by Franco Colapinto

Franco x grumpy! girlfriend

TW A short one, morning sex, riding, unprotected sex

WC 800+

Y/N POV

"Good morning pretty girl," Franco mumbles when he starts to wake up from my nails running across his shirt-covered back. He starts turning onto his side and pulling me slower to his chest making me groan.

"It's too early," I mumble back making Franco giggle softly at my morning moodiness.

"Why is it that your alarm always wakes me up and never you?" I question with an arched brow making Franco's face heat slightly from being called out before he just shrugs. He'd much rather wake up to his girlfriend's touch anyway.

"Come on baby, we have a big day!" Franco says with far too much excitement making me bury my face back into his chest not waiting to leave the bed.

"No," I grumble gripping onto the back of Franco's shirt not wanting him to get out of the bed either.

"Come on," Franco says dragging out the "n".

"20 minutes," I say coldly making Franco giggle but relax slightly into my arms.

"Gonna make us late baby," Franco says but still making not move to get out of bed.

"Babe, we don't need to be in the paddock for another 3 hours, 20 minutes wont kill us," I tell him making him shrug.

"Just excited for my first race," Franco says with a smile on his face making me smile softly at him.

It was Monza race day which means it's Franco's first Grand Prix in Formula 1 and he has been extremely anties the whole time.

"I know, and I'm happy for you," I tell him softly before pulling him in for a soft kiss.

What was supposed to be just a quick peck slowly turns into a heated makeout session, resulting in me climbing into Frnaco's lap and grinding down on his hardening cock.

"Fuck baby, we don't have time," Franco groans making me grind down harder, making both of us whine at the pleasure coursing through us.

"Please, we have time," I say while pulling off the shirt I had slept in the night before. I start pushing Franco's shirt up to reviel his tones abs and chest when I instantly lean down and start kissing him neck and chest before pushing myself down a little further pulling his boxers down slightly before pulling his cock into my mouth for a soft suck making Franco groan.

"Fuck baby, so good," Franco groans when I start bobbing my head softly.

"We'll be quick," I say as if he needed any further convincing.

"Come ride me, baby," Franco says clearly having no patience. I just giggle and roll my eyes at his neediness before climbing back into Franco's lap and sinking down his cock when I pull my thong to the side.

"Fuck," I groan at the stretch before I slowly start rocking my hips trying to gain stimulation before I start bouncing up and down making Franco moan.

"Look so pretty riding my cock," Franco moans out softly making my face heat up slightly at the praise.

"It's so good baby," I mumble softly.

"Fuck, always so good for me," Franco groans moving his hands to my hips and giving them a hard squeeze before he starts helping me bounce on his cock.

"I'm close," I moan out already starting to get shakey legs, which has Franco flipping us over so he was now hovering over me and pounding into my pussy making me moan and whine at the stimulation.

"Fuck," I moan when the new angle has Franco hitting a new spot deep in my pussy.

"It's like you were made just for me, Huh?" Franco states bringing a hand down to my clit making me clench around his cock ready to cum.

"Please can I cum," I beg needing my release.

"Cum for me," Franco groans before sending me over the edge into a strong orgasm and squeezing around Franco's cock making him pull out and cum all over my tummy.

Once both Franco and I have come down from our highs he slowly climbs out of bed and pulls his boxers off all the way before pulling my thong off and picking me up and taking me into the bathroom.

Once he turns the shower on and lets the water heat up Franco takes my hand into his pulling me to join him.

We spent the next 20 minutes cleaning each other off before we got out and started getting ready for race day.

"Told you we had time," I saw with a smirk when we walked into the paddock hand and hand 15 minutes earlier than we needed to be.

Franco just laughs and shakes his head before kissing my forehead softly.

"Gonna get us in trouble one of these days," Franco says making me smirk and shrug.

"You wouldn't change it for the world though."

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

The ABCs of Alastor - Dirty Secret

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI!

Words: ~1600 TW: oral (female receiving) while on period

"Why are you avoiding me?"

It was a simple question. One simple question, yet the way he looked at you gave away the fact that this was far from the truth.

Alastor never seemed to be so good at comforting people, but with you at least he tried. He'd spend hours with you whenever you were sad, giving you his wise advice that most of the time implied killing someone. He'd bring you different gifts whenever you said you were interested in something. And you damn well knew he would murder someone who dared to do you wrong.

So it was kind of hard to understand why he avoided you so much every time you were on your period. Every time you needed him by your side, he'd disappear without a trace. You'd cry for days from how crazy your hormones were acting and how bad your cramps were and he would be nowhere to be seen. Why?

You thought that maybe it had something to do with his human life. Perhaps he was repulsed by the whole idea, but it was kind of hard to believe that someone like him would get so easily scared by something so simple.

Alastor avoided your gaze and looked elsewhere, he shifted from standing still to leaning against the wall with one hand still placed behind his back. You could tell something clearly bothered him, but it was hard to understand what. "I'm not avoiding you, my dear."

"Then why do you always disappear when I'm on my period?" You saw his smile faintly twitching, his ears pressed back on his head. "Are... Are you disgusted by me?" you asked, suddenly feeling a bit emotional at the thought that it would affect him this much.

"No! Of course not!" He said in a somewhat surprised tone, clearly shocked by the question and immediately approaching you. He stands in front of you, towering over you in height. He was still unable to look into your eyes directly as if there was something else bothering him. "It's just..."

"What?"

"Blood," he said bluntly, his tone so low that you could only guess that's what he said.

"It's... what?"

Alastor sighed, looking down at the floor as he did so. He was struggling to explain himself and his facial expression gave it away. He was ashamed, and his pride was slowly shattering at how weak he felt. "It's your blood, my dear... It makes me feel..." he was tapping on his cane, a dark blush spreading on his face. The sight of him all flustered made your heart tingle, but you kept it to yourself, knowing he wouldn't talk to you for days if you said something that you shouldn't.

"... horny?" you asked, not really finding a better explanation for his embarrassment.

Alastor's face went beet red at your question, as he slowly raised his head to look at you, a bit taken aback by your bluntness "I- What- ...That is-" He stuttered, speechless for a few seconds until he finally mumbled out something. "That's one way to put it I suppose, my dear."

You let out an audible 'Oh.' as you made the connections in your head. It made sense considering his preferences, but you never imagined it could have such an impact on him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked.

Alastor still tried his best to avoid your gaze, now placing a hand over at least half his face to try and hide his expression. He was too embarrassed to speak, and he was silently scolding himself for acting like a fool who didn't know how to talk to a woman properly. "I..." he began but then gave up trying to explain himself. How was he supposed to tell you that he'd eat you up like a starved man whenever you got your period? How was he supposed to say to you he's so weak he can't even control his urges over a normal, biological process?

"You know..." you started, making him look at you, your face blushing softly as this new idea popped into your head. "I think we can... solve this... somehow..."

"Fuck! Fuck, Alastor - Ahh~"

His tongue was driving you crazy, as his claws dug into your things, making sure you keep your legs open for him. Alastor was completely lost in the moment, his mind consumed by the intoxicating taste of you and the animalistic urge to lick every drop of blood, his senses heightened and all control slipping away. He can't think straight, can't even form a coherent thought, overwhelmed by the need to have you completely.

The sloppy sounds of him eating you up so eagerly echoed in the room, as your grip on his antlers tightened, a low growl vibrating through your body. His usual collected demeanour was long gone as his tongue pumped in and out of you, sucking and kissing your clit, desperate to consume you entirely.

His mind was a chaotic, primal whirlwind of raw need, every sense and thought completely consumed by the overwhelming hunger for you. He couldn't hold back even if he tried; every movement, every sound he made was fueled by an uncontrollable animalistic desire. He was practically snarling against you, his growls a stark contrast to the usual suave tone of his voice.

Your heart skipped a bit as his form grew in size, his radio-dial eyes looking at you, a hint of madness in them. His long tongue delved deeper and deeper, exploring every part of you. The suction and rhythmic movement made your head spin, and the sight of his now monstrous form between your legs was almost too much to handle.

"You have no idea how torturous it was for me, my dear..." you heard him say, the static in his voice almost deafening. "Smelling all this blood without being able to taste..." Long fingers entered you roughly, moving at a fast pace as a thin coat of red liquid covered them.

"Ahh~ Shit, Alastor! I'm gonna... Ahhh~"

His pace quickened as he sucked on your clit, the room spinning as your body aggressively trembled against his mouth. The sudden burst of pleasure almost made you cry, as your walls clenched tightly around his fingers.

The thin line between pain and pleasure threatened to be crossed as he fingerfucked you through your orgasm. The lights in the room flickered as his gaze never left yours for a moment. You shivered slightly, feeling as if you were about to be literally eaten alive by him.

His sharp teeth were full of blood, but you knew he craved more. He always told you how addicted he was to you, how much he needed to just have you completely. And he was going to.

His fingers were quickly replaced again by his tongue, the familiar feeling inside of you rapidly building up again.

"Alastor! Ah~ I can't!" you begged, feeling as if you were about to pass out any moment now, a low growl vibrating against your aching core. If you were being completely honest, you weren't even sure if he heard you. You squirmed against his grasp, only for his claws to dig deeper into the soft skin of your things, making sure you were not moving until he was satisfied.

Your knuckles were white because of how hard you were gripping the bedsheet that was now probably drenched in your blood. Alastor is in the thralls of primal ecstasy, his whole being hyper-focused on consuming you, giving into the animalistic needs that have taken over his mind entirely. The taste of you on his tongue, the sight of you writhing desperately beneath him, are driving him wilder and wilder, his self-control completely shattered.

You scream his name as you orgasm once again and you could swear you almost fainted when you reached the peak, even the feeling of his tongue sliding out of you becoming a torture.

Your vision was blurry as your body relaxed, the sudden feeling of his hand on your stomach, slowly caressing it, making you shiver. You turned to face him, and his appearance returned back to normal as blood was scattered all over his face.

He is panting heavily, the intense primal need somewhat sated for now, replaced by the more familiar persona of the charming radio demon. His touch on your aching skin was a stark contrast to the wildness he'd just displayed. His gaze, although calmer than before, still held a hint of raw hunger. He looked down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion.

"Are you alright, love?"

The way he used that word always made your heart skip a beat, especially now when you saw him so hungry... only for you. You just nodded, not a single word being able to make it out of you. He let go of a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating through you, as he enjoyed the effect he had on you.

Alastor moved closer to you, his frame enveloping your smaller figure protectively. He gently wiped some sweat from your forehead, brushing away a few strands of hair too. He was being affectionate and caring, his usual composed demeanour returning, though you were sure it was not gonna last long.

"You're quite a mess, aren't you, darling?" he teased with a smirk, his voice low and sultry. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he got up, making his way to the bathroom to prepare you a warm bath.

So, no, Alastor may never have been good at comforting people the way others were, but with you, he always found a way. Even if his methods were… unconventional, they were his way of showing you just how deeply he cared.

And in the end, you were left to wonder—how many other secrets did he keep even from you? Secret passions, secret dreams... maybe even secrets dirtier than this one. You lay there, smiling to yourself, eager to uncover the rest of his secrets—one by one.

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @xalygatorx @martinys-world

@alastorthirsty @diffidentphantom @itsaubreyofcc @n0tmentallystable

@lettuce-frog16 @eris-norwega @readergirlstuff

@vxllys @xghostnuggsx @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog

@l3rittany @ustulia @catticora

[caprisunnydays]

Stardew Valley x Reader Bachelor Headcanons

Alex

Before you and Alex got together, you probably became long time friends

He was def like "damn they hot" but then when it became more than just that he was like "DAMN THEY'RE HOT"

It's been a bit since he's felt those silly little butterflies, it genuinely makes him nervous

Que him leaning against a wall like "Hey bbg" but he's sweating bullets

After his confession, he feels much better, and the nervous air that only you could really pick up on has disappeared

Very PDA, arm is always around you, probably not in the back pocket but if he's tipsy enough then boom it appears

Insists on going in the mines with you but saw a slime and wanted to dip so bad but you protected him <3

"Heh...I totally wasn't scared. Don't worry babe I'll protect you" nah boy

He feels his heart melt every time he sees you and Evelyn baking together, or her just acting like your grandma

Even George has become a grandpa figure, giving advice with alex or general things

Alex is secretly insecure about himself, but with you, he finds room to grow as a person and find that those worries are unwarranted

Though he doesn't say it often, you make him feel seen, and he truly appreciates that

Elliot

(Personal fav right now so I'm about to go OFF)

If you picked romance for his book he's imagining you both as the main characters

Not a complete parallel because he's like "can't be creepy" but a teensy bit

Speaking of "can't be creepy" he has written multiple sonnets about you since realizing his feelings

Unlike some of the other bachelors, he embraces his feelings more, using his passion to inspire his writing and other endeavors

Heavy on the gifts and courting stuff

Gives you love poems at least once a week he has so many piled up but he doesn't wanna go overboard

Says the sappiest things all the time with this love struck look in his eyes

PRETTIEST MANNNNN

Words of affirmation kinda guy, he's poetic like that

Leah pokes at him for being a simp but mans could not care less he's proud

Picks out pretty sea shells that wash up on the shore and gives them to you, and they're always intact!

Big fan of the flower dance and looks forward to getting to dance with you in front of the entire town! maybe your worst nightmare but he's just happy to show you off (and his dancing skills lol)

Speaking of which, mans is gonna teach you how to waltz and a bunch of other old timey dances

At some point he WILL show up in the pouring rain to profess his love, or give you flowers, or both

You're like "Elliot we're literally dating was this necessary and he's like "OF COURSE MY DEAR"

He'd love heartstopper

Harvey

Insert too sweet by Hozier

Silly little doctor guy tries to avoid you but can't help but be drawn to you

He sees you running around doing your daily tasks, and just watches you from afar from the window of the doctor's office

Maru notices and tells you to come in sometime cuz her boss ain't gonna get nowhere by himself

When you start coming in more often he can feel himself die of embarrassment when he fails to make interesting conversation

Is very worried about your health though and fusses when you pass out in the mines/street

He gets even more adamant about you taking care of yourself once he's confessed

Way less nervous though!

Looks at you with adoration eyes when you do anything

Tipsy Harvey is a cute Harvey because he starts spilling his guts on how often he thinks of you

Whenever you're not busy with work he appreciates you stopping by the office, just to talk about both of your days

He yaps to everyone about you btw

Doesn't mean to but when someone brings you up he's like "oh yes me and my partner love to-" or "my partner loves-" etc etc

I used to not be a fan but he's such a sweetiepie

Sam

"I just love a guy who plays guitar <3" - u @Sam

That's it

I JEST

Originally he's like "hey come and hang out with me, Sebastian, and Abigail"

Then you start coming over and it's just you both alone

He's not creepy about it, just wants to spend time with you one on one

Loves showing you the songs he works on and if you want he'll show you how to play guitar too!

He's also happy with how well you get along with Jodi, always trying to get you both to bond, it makes him feel nice that you feel like you're apart of the family

Once y'all are together he does sneak you in anytime he gets the chance

He'll text you like "come over" You : I've gotta be up at 6am Him : "PLZPLZPLZPLZ-"

OG golden retriever bf

You both go shopping at Joja at 3am for fun and goof off

Or go run around in the forest taking aesthetically pleasing pintrest photos

Sebastian

You can't tell me he's not an arctic monkeys kinda guy so insert R U Mine? By Arctic Monkeys

It took him time to warm up to you

When he did you became one of the few people he could hang out with after a long day of socializing and not feel drained around

I can see him doing things that aren't always super platonic and thinking he wants to do them because

"Platonically" holding your hand, cuddling, etc

At town events he stands all close to you, complaining about how much he hates it, but showing disappointment when you mention leaving

Everyone's like are y'all dating and he goes NO way too fast

When you both finally ARE together though he's actually much less affectionate and public, but it doubles when you're in the comfort of his basement room

Finds the most joy in keeping you trapped in his bed with him until noon when you say you should be working on your farm

Especially in the colder months, then you can also share his mom's pumpkin soup

He's almost catlike with his affection

Another guy you run around and take aesthetically pleasing pintrest photos with, but his are more grunge esk

"Accidentally" leaves his hoodies at your place but he likes seeing you in em

I imagine that the characters have those closets filled with the same outfit, so when you try and give him his stuff back he goes "nah" and whips out his 100th hoodie

Shane

PACK IT UP SAVIOUR COMPLEX I mean what who said that

After you rescue him from the depths of his depressive alcoholism, he feels guilty for having feelings for you

Part of it is because he's like "fuck do I actually like them or is it just cuz they basically saved my life" and partly because it feels painfully stereotypical

Not a lot changes, though he is a lot more open to you then he is with other people, even with Marnie

Helps out with your chickens when he has free time

Talks to them about his problems and once you almost walked in on him ranting about his feelings for you (bro was shook)

But once he's confessed, well, he's still insecure about some things, but accepts your help with stride

Jealous easily, but tries not to show it

Acts of service kinda guy, so if you need him to run an errand while you're swamped with farm work? He's on it

Pulls up to your farm with a bunch of snacks and a bag full of movies for you to pick from

He sets it up while you take a shower to wash all the grime and dirt off from a days work so you can just come and cozy up on the couch with him

You're also basically besties with Jas, such a sweet girl, always asks you to play jump rope with her

You both go "say no to drugs" to her l o l

Marnie is also now your bestie so even when she's not working you can get stuff from the shop #WIN

I loooooove stardew valley it's so cool so great

[hanjsquokka]

strawberry cake.

kim seungmin × fem!reader — high school! au, childhood friends to potential lovers, fluff

summary — seungmin only needs one present on his birthday, and it isn't the sugary dessert you made for him.

word count — 1.1K

warnings — fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!

author's note — happy seungmin day 🩷 i actually managed to post a fic on a member's birthday, who am i. initially thought of my baseball ksm fic but i know i'm not gonna finish that lol and his instagram posts were very inspiring. i think i watched this happen in some movie or tv show i watched, i don't remember 😭 but i thought it was really cute, lmk what you guys think <3

please consider leaving feedback in the comments or reblogs as they really make my day 💕

Kim Seungmin didn't like celebrating his birthday that much. Sure, he liked receiving a few gifts from his friends and a happy birthday here and there, but he didn't like the blowout parties that you loved. On your birthday, you would plan this whole thing, inviting friends from school and neighbors to celebrate your birthday. You were a social butterfly, so he understood why you did that. You loved being surrounded by people you cherished. Your birthday was just an excuse to call everyone over and spend time with them.

Seungmin, however, liked keeping his celebrations more reserved. His mother greeted him in the morning, making his favorite breakfast to eat and favorite lunch to take to school. His dad handed him some cash to buy something to eat after school, which he usually didn't do and opted to save it for a better cause. His sister offered to take him out for lunch on the weekend. 

Of course, being the wonderful and amazing best friend that you were (your words), you always went out of your way to do something. Like this year, you presented him with a small cake slightly smushed in your lunch box with haphazardly thrown purple sprinkles.

“I made it from scratch,” you added with a big grin as you sat in front of his desk. His friends had left a few moments ago to play on the school grounds. He'd stayed back, finishing up the last of his lunch and letting it settle in his stomach before he ran around playing soccer. A small smile formed on his face; he could never dislike your enthusiasm for his birthday.

“It looks... artistic,” he said in an amused tone, looking up from the lunch box to your face, which was scrunched up in a frown.

“I didn't know the box would be small... And hey, I baked this for you; at least show some appreciation!”

Seungmin laughed. “Sorry, thank you for making this cake for me.” He meant that; he knew that you knew it too, because your shoulders relaxed, and you prompted him to take a bite and tell him how it tasted. There was a little too much sugar for his liking, but he didn't tell you that, instead nodding his head in approval and eating more of it. It was strawberry-flavored, his favorite. It warmed his heart that you always went out of your way to do things the way that he liked.

When he looked back at you, you were tucking a strand of hair back as you ate a spoonful. The longer he looked at you, the faster his heartbeat went, his body feeling hot right up to the tip of his ears. It was a weird feeling, but not foreign. Lately, it had been happening more often. He started seeing you in a different light, something other than a friend—not just any friend, but a childhood friend. He wasn't naive; he knew what crushes were, and he knew he had one on you.

It was a realization he had come across a few months ago when his family and yours went to the carnival over the summer and the two of you had gotten separated. He came home that day, heart tap dancing in his ribcage and a never-ending smile on his face from the way you jumped with excitement after you worked together to win the obviously rigged carnival games and winning a plushie.

Some part of him knew that. You liked him back as well; he hoped his brain wasn't playing tricks on him when he saw the way your eyes lit up after seeing him. The innocent friendship you two shared was morphing into something different—a good different. 

That evening, while the two of you were walking home after the extra classes you had, the crisp evening air sent a tingle down his spine as he walked along the pavement, listening to whatever you were talking about and adding his own insights whenever he felt like it.

“Oh, hey, look! Tteokbokki!” You said excitedly, pointing to the food cart run by a middle-aged woman serving the steaming hot spicy rice cakes to a few customers. With a tug of his arm, you dragged him over and ordered one spicy one for both of you to share. He didn't like eating spice as much as you did, but he didn't want to say no to you. After a short debate, he used his birthday money to pay for the food, and the two of you walked along the riverside slowly as you ate.

“Mm, these are good,” you let out a satisfied hum and continued eating.

“They are,” he agreed. The spice was present at the back of his throat, but it was weirdly good after the oversweet cake he had during lunch.

“It tastes good after eating that sugar monster I made, right?” Seungmin turned his head to look at you. “What? Don't give me that look, that cake was so sweet, how did you even finish the whole thing? It tasted like I dumped a whole box of sugar in the batter.”

“True… But you made it, so I wanted to eat it,” he admitted, feeling his face flush lightly. If you teased him about it, he was going to brush it off and blame it on the tteokbokki, but your own cheeks mimicked his, tinging red at his sudden admission. 

“Still,” you protested, “I'll have to make a better one that doesn't taste like cavities.”

“I like the oversweet one. Maybe I'm an extra sugar kinda person.”

"No, you're not.”

“It wasn't even that bad.”

“Now you're just lying.”

The two of you dissolved into laughter, finishing up the last of your food. The walk home continued in relative silence for a while, him mulling over his words and wondering if he made you uncomfortable because you were too quiet. Before he could make an apology, you spoke quietly.

“I'm glad you liked it, but I still wish I could've given you a better birthday present.”

He stared at the path in front of them, the streets lit up by lamps and porch lights. “You already gave me the perfect birthday present.”

You tilted your head to the side. “What?”

“You,” he blurted out, regretting his words the next second, but once he saw your flustered reaction, his nerves calmed a little. “Now let's go home and act surprised at whatever my parents planned.” You giggled in response and nodded, your footsteps falling in sync as you walked beside him.

“Happy birthday, Seungmin.”

“You said that like ten times today!”

 

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©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[minus-plus-zer0]

Jealousy

♡ Genre: Hurt/comfort, very fluff ending ♡ Pairing: Pro Hero!Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up, established relationships, dating (Jealousy on both sides, it's all unfounded so don't worry! You two are loyal like dogs to each other)

Bakugou was the jealous type.

Everybody in the entire country knew that. There was nothing Bakugou hated more than imagining you leaving him for somebody else. You wanted to tease him about it sometimes, but his jealousy made him so distressed that you ended up comforting him instead.

Currently, Bakugou was still seething at the man who last flirted with you. The guy disappeared into the street's crowd under Bakugou's contemptuous gaze. His anger could only be distracted by you and your words.

"It's okay, Katsuki," you said, while hugging him. "I only love you. I didn't even flirt back, you know?"

"...I know," Bakugou said. He kissed you on the lips, somewhat possessively. When he opened his eyes again, he looked so sad. "One of these days I wonder if you're gonna find somebody better than me."

"Katsuki!" You glared at him. "I could never find someone better than you! You are the sweetest, most loyal guy I've ever met! Even if you do have a temper." You giggled, poking his forehead.

"Dummy." Bakugou rested his forehead against yours, his arm close around your waist. "Sorry. Shouldn't have gotten jealous."

"No, it's okay! Always tell me when you're jealous, always!"

That's how most of Bakugou's jealousy fits went. Over time, Bakugou became less and less easily aggravated, but he still had his possessive moments. But no matter what, he'd never take his anger out on you or try to control you out of fear.

Meanwhile, you rarely got jealous of Bakugou, mainly because you weren't the type but also because there wasn't much to be jealous of. Bakugou made it crystal clear to everyone what he did and didn't like, and you were one of the few things included on the "like" list. In fact, you were the only person ever included on the "love" list.

But despite Bakugou's poor reputation with the public, he still occasionally found fans who fawned over him. These fans sometimes made you uncomfortable.

One day, you two were out in public together in a quiet side path of the town, walking between various shops. Coincidentally, you caught some of his fawning fans exiting a store. Bakugou paid them no attention but you couldn't take your eyes off of the potential "predators" on your relationship. The fans soon passed but not without some loud screeching and several pictures taken without Bakugou's permission. Initially it irritated Bakugou, but you noticed by the end of it he was paying more attention to you.

"Are you jealous?" he asked, seriously. You two walked in the opposite direction of the fans, their voices getting less loud with more distance.

"Of course not..." you lied. "They're just random fans, it doesn't matter."

You didn't want him to tease you for this. This was one of the few times you had to deal with jealousy, and it took you off guard. It was irrational too, and you knew it. Still, you didn't always like being actively reminded that Bakugou could be wanted by others.

Bakugou wasn't having this. He stopped you in the middle of the side path you walked down, his expression focused.

"Don't be jealous, alright?" he said. You opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted. "And don't deny that you are jealous! I've been jealous of you tons of times, so I can recognize that shit anywhere. But it's just your mind playing tricks on you. You're still the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I only go for the best, ya hear me?" He started beaming at you, and you could tell he really meant it. "I'd rather throw myself off a cliff than go back on my promises to you."

That did warm your heart. He caught your lips turning up and his hand brushed against your cheek, but you still shied away from him.

"I just don't get why you chose me," you said. "You've got so many fans. Sometimes I wonder if there are better options for you out there..."

"I fucking doubt it. I have the best judgment and the best taste, so if I chose you, that fucking means something. It means you're as great as me... or better. Now don't go saying that negative stuff about my girlfriend. Or else."

"O-okay! Alright!"

You didn't know what the heck he could be threatening you with, but you didn't want to find out. Regardless, he still looked after you and made sure nothing the fans did ever bothered you. He would never tease you for your jealousy, because he personally knew how much it hurt. You were one of the few people he could trust, and because of that you two were dead loyal to each other no matter the odds.

[milliesfishes]

hii same anon again! feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this ofc - but a perfect lake day with coryo but then you can tell something’s off. he then finally tells you about how he was reassigned to district two and doesn’t have any choice but to go and you two are both so heartbroken. and then maybe having to actually say goodbye? :’) guess i want to cry lol

⋆౨ৎ𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝔂𝓸 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼 𝓾𝓹 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾⋆౨ৎ 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 �� 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓷𝓸𝔀

Coriolanus’ lips found your fingers clasped with his hand, and you smiled slow and soft like sunlight. His other arm was resting lazily over your hips, the weight a comforting thing as his chest supported your back. It was perfect. Everything about it was perfect.

Truthfully, you loved every allotted day off he spent with you. It was a treasure amidst a sea of mundane days filled with labor and exhaustion. He smoothed every rough spot for you, made every ordinary trouble melt away.

Turning in his arms, you let your cheek fall against his chest, the metal of his dog tags cool from your time in the lake. Many a time you had fallen asleep with the rectangles pressed to your skin and awoken with his blood type imprinted there.

He let you move against him, quiet and stoic as always. Today in particular he'd been reserved but you assumed it was stress, not minding the lack of talk. Only when you were settled did he adjust his arms, one large hand splaying over your bare back. You hadn’t bothered to redress, and nor did he.

It was funny- a month ago he would have had his clothes on immediately after drying off, wary of the surroundings of nature he was so unfamiliar with. Now he sat upright, not against the tree like anyone from town would have done, but it didn’t matter. As long as you fit between his arms nothing else mattered.

Picking at the blanket underneath, you murmured, “I hope it can always be like this.” A bird’s whistle carried from the trees, flung out into the expanse of the glassy lake. His fingers stilled where they had been roving up and down, causing you to look up at him, meet his stormy blue eyes.

Right now, they were filled with thunderclouds of oceanic magnitude, and you sat up straight, brow knitting. Was he upset? Worried about something? "Coryo?"

The lake lapped calmly at the pebbly shore, the opposite of the mass of dread circulating and hardening in your chest. It was a buildup; you knew it was. He kept your fingers laced with his when he murmured, "I'm being transferred."

It felt as though someone had shoved you off the edge of something dark and looming, and now your body was flailing helplessly, plummeting to the jagged rocks of the unknown. Hovering clouds darkened the spot of sunshine you'd been lying in, and goosebumps rippled over your arms.

"Transferred?" You could only manage the single word, trying to leave out the accompanying emotions. Your efforts were in vain.

He gave a single nod, and you let out a little breath, looking away. The only that could have shocked you more than meeting was him leaving you. He'd looked so out of place that first night at the Hob, as if he didn't know what to do with himself.

It was hardly the same man staring back at you now, the lines of his face stiffened.

You sat all the way up, moving closer to him, knees pushing his thighs further apart. He took your hips again, trying to get you to stay still, but you refused, determined as ever. Framing his face with your palms, you searched him desperately. "What do you mean by transferred?"

"I took the advancement test. I passed. Now they want to send me to Two."

Your poor heart began to ache all over again. Every word from his mouth was eating at it like sugar to a rotting tooth. "Two."

"Sweetheart." He gently held your wrists, pulling your hands away from his cheeks. The more you looked at him the more you hurt. But you'd never been able to tear yourself from him yet. Though your time with him had been brief, Coriolanus had quickly become your favorite person, the only one you wanted to be with. You wanted a sea of endless nights cuddled to his chest, or under his arm at the Hob. Gent's girl is what the other Peacekeepers called you, lifting their bottles and grinning.

Tears began to prick your eyes. "You never even told me you took the test."

"I didn't know they would ship me out," he said with an edge, swallowing. "I thought maybe I'd be promoted here and get to stay. But they want me somewhere else."

"You're leaving me." It felt so selfish to say it that way. The man you loved was escaping the mousetrap of District Twelve and you were condemning for it. In all honesty, this was a chance you knew you would have jumped at had it been you.

Coriolanus breathed out through his nose, and you suppressed a chill both from the temperature and the look on his face. He didn't reach for you, letting you have your space as you tried not to cry. It was only when the first crystal drop leaked from your eye that his hands found your waist, pulling you back into his chest.

Your tears soaked his chest, and you took in sharp breaths, trying not to go hysterical. It was bad enough that he was comforting you when you were supposed to be excited for him.

All you could think of were the things you would miss. The barely-there lilt of his lips whenever you said something sweet or funny, The feel of his hands on you. Soft confessions he made when it was dark in your small home save for a candle, kissing your forehead when he left to get back in time for curfew. The way he kissed- like he'd been hungry his entire life and only you could satiate him.

A choked little sob bubbled up and darted past your lips when you realized exactly how alone you'd be when he was gone. Family long passed, being with him had been the closest you'd felt to home in a long while. Where do you go when your home is a million miles away?

To the bed he'd held you in, you gathered. To the places he used to be. It would be a measly substitute for what you really wanted.

"I'll write you," he promised, adjusting the daisy he'd plucked and put in your hair earlier. His body was growing taut, and you knew he was fighting internally as much as you were. "We'll...it'll be okay."

Maybe somehow you had always known he wouldn't be here forever. Given his origins somewhere that may as well have been universes away, you knew he wasn't destined for life in a place like this. With the simplicities you had learned to make enough.

You could almost see the path the future embroidered before you. Crinkled letters under your pillow because that was the closest you'd get to holding him again, hours emptied of his presence. It drained you like a rainy day, and you slid your arms around his torso. His chin dropped to your hair, one hand at your waist and the other fingering the strap of your damp crocheted undershirt.

A plea for him to stay nearly rose on your lips, and you lifted your head, wishing you were brave enough to say it. But you knew nothing could stop it now. The echoes of your desire were fading into the background as he breathed in through his nose, pressing his forehead down onto your head.

The way he held you spoke volumes, and you mentally penned it to remember for late. Your wet hair had been sticking to his chest like seaweed, and he brushed it behind your shoulder. "I...I'll miss you." Though his voice was steady, you could hear the cracks in the foundation. "I love you," he was really saying.

You allowed yourself one final sniffle before lifting your head, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips to his. His warm fingers found the nape of your neck over your hair, just holding you there until you pulled back. "I'll miss you too," you breathed, twin tears trickling from your eyes.

Ever since you knew him, you had watched the mask he'd worn as a young man from the Capitol chink and crumble away. Perhaps he had realized he didn't need it here. Not where humanity was in its barest bones, the natural world a pure comfort. In a romantic way you knew it was you too. You gave him all you had in the way of love, unearthing the undeniable fact that he cared for you that way too.

Coriolanus' hands found your cheeks, and he kissed you once more in a way full of longing. He searched your eyes, letting his forehead lean against yours. In that moment he looked almost desperate, matching you. Without closing his eyes, his lips pressed to yours in the tiniest of pecks. "I love you."

Maybe that would keep you warm at night when he was nothing but memory.

[finniestoncrane]

💗 with penguin? from the batman

Farrell!Penguin x Fem!Reader, word count: 750 mmmmmmm yes please anon!! this old romantic??? he'd be aching to tell his partner how he felt about them, but he's a shy boy at heart!! little bit of ozzie losing his calm exterior and accidentally spilling the beans about his devotion while he's balls deep in you coming right up!! 💜🐧 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: penetrative sex, sweetheart/baby used, daddy!kink, reader has vagina, confessions of love, eeny weeny bit of dirty talk

Any and all fears that you had about what you meant to Oswald seemed pointless in that moment. The worry that you meant nothing more to him than a good, easy fuck at the end of a long day quickly dissipated when his cock was buried inside of you, his large hands holding your body as he rutted into you. You could do a lot worse. And if that was all you were to him, then you were grateful for it.

Who would turn down such a lucrative opportunity? Spoiled when he could, or when you let him. Fucked with the kind of feral attitude you might only find in someone trying to prove something. Given an insight into what life was like for the true rulers in Gotham. Importantly, though, you were also offered respect and care. A little bit of affection when he let his facade drop. The gold glinting grin would slip just a moment every so often, and his eyes would soften as he watched you put your clothes back on, or when you left his office at the lounge.

Sometimes, you let yourself believe that there were words behind the warm smile he offered you. A deeper meaning. You weren't willing to push him though, so you kept your questions to yourself. It was easy enough to do when your lips only opened to take in his cock, his fingers, his tongue, or to let out moans of pleasure and groans of sweet, delicious pain.

Oswald did most of the talking between you both, socially and sexually. As he pummelled into your hips, you watched his lips form the lust-driven rambling from your position on top of his desk. His hands skimmed down your thighs, tracing over the sides of your torso as he spoke.

"Fuck baby, that's it, that's the stuff right there... Let daddy show you... You gonna take it good?... Yeah you know what to do... Cos you're a good girl... My good girl... You're amazing baby doll... God, I-... I uh..."

The sudden pause, the way he almost stuttered, wasn't something you'd seen in him before. He was unsure of himself, of his words, of his intentions. And Oswald was always prepared. Given that the pace had slowed, you caught your breath and used the brief moment of reprieve to check on him.

"Ozzie? You ok?"

"Nah, I'm fine baby, don't worry about it."

He could tell the mood had shifted though. You had a distinct look of concern in your eyes, and he realised that if he held back from you now that he might lose a little bit of trust from you.

The brief pause was over though, and he realised he'd missed the moment. It was too late to say it now, so he tried to bring his focus back to the present, how you felt against him, around him. Maybe now was the time. Maybe he could feel vulnerable, open, honest. Your eyes, staring up at him, concern, genuine feeling behind them, only confirmed to him that this was the right thing to do.

Oswald's finger and thumb gripped at either side of your chin, holding your head in his palm as he redirected your attention to him. It felt like an eternity, his eyes gazing into yours, focused and intense, his cock buried up to the hilt, throbbing against your clenching walls.

"God... I love you, sweetheart."

He couldn't keep it too sweet though. You'd find out how soft he was soon enough, for now, he could be honest, but he felt like he had to remain sexy and confident. So he kept going, hoping that you wouldn't linger too long on his sentiments, trying to lull you back into dazed arousal before you criticised him for his confession.

"I love your skin. I love your mouth."

His pace picked back up, and you could only moan in response to each declaration of affection.

"I love your hands, your body."

You could feel your body tensing, giving way to the control of your orgasm as he continued.

"I love that warm, wet cunt of yours too. Love the way it makes me feel."

Oswald groaned as he let the last world trail out, his fingers digging into your skin where he held you, pulling you down onto his cock. His length pushed into you, bottoming out, up to the hilt, each thrust pressing against your limit as he emphasised each word with the branding of your walls with his cock.

"I. Love. You."

[zxoaii]

Touch

fem! reader x bodyguard Choso

Summary: After the being sent to attend an event, Y/n and Choso find themselves more caught up with each other.

SMUT

WC: 2k

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

"You look good in a suit." Choso looks at me while I adjust his tie. "You are stunning. No one is going to notice me with you right next to me." He's always so sweet.

"Thank you."

The elevator door rings out and the doors open. Choso offers me his arm. I take it as we walk into the foyer of the ballroom.

"Good evening." The host draws our attention to him. My bag clicks open as I retrieve the invitation. "He's my plus one." Of course, if he knows who I am he'd know that.

Money and Jujutsu Sorcery don't usually meet but somewhere, they did. I wouldn't say my clan is completely good but we are a force to be reckoned with.

My mother is the current head of the clan and because of my apparent lack of cursed energy, I was assigned a bodyguard.

I've had several throughout my life but this one is my favorite. Choso is a gentleman. He's caring and friendly. Not to mention, he is not bad-looking at all.

He isn't even a Jujutsu Sorcerer. He's a half-curse.

We walk into the crowded ballroom together. I love parties. They're a nightmare for him. He wouldn't ever say it out loud though.

Choso instinctively takes his arm away from me and falls two paces behind me. Technically we're supposed to act like he isn't here.

Still, it saddens me to lose his touch.

"Ms. Y/l/n, you look incredible. The last time I saw you, you were only a teenager. It's been so long!" I'm thrown into a conversation before I can tell Choso he should stand with me.

The night starts to drag on with insignificant conversations one after another. Being polite is exhausting. Especially when it's spent being polite to people who can't help but be self-obsessed.

As soon as I get a chance I excuse myself to go get a drink. I take Choso's arm and lead us to the drink table. "Do you want some?"

Choso shakes his head. Oh well. I take a glass of champagne for myself. It's a shame this is all they choose to serve. Still, it's better than nothing.

"How long have we been here?"

"45 minutes."

I want to spit my drink out. Only 45 minutes? It feels like we've been here for hours. I've been talking for hours. It's impossible.

"Seriously?"

Choso nods and scans the room. "Come on, there's not actually anyone here who's going to do anything to me." He gives me an unsure glance. "How long do we have to stay for?" My feet ache already. It's freezing in here. I would rather be anywhere else and I'd rather it just be him and I.

"You're supposed to stay for an hour and a half at least."

"What if I say I'm sick?"

Choso takes my empty glass from me and returns it to the table. "We came all this way just for this." He reminds me.

He looks so good in his suit. If I could have a picture of him dressed up like this I'd keep it in a locket.

"Y/n!" A voice calls out excitedly from behind me.

I really hate parties.

.  .  .

Choso sits in the front seat of the car as we're driven to our hotel. I can't stop admiring him. My cheeks flush when he looks at me through the rearview.

We hold eye contact until I look away.

The driver eventually stops in front of our hotel and opens my door for me. "Thank you." I step out of the car. Warm humid air wraps itself around my bare skin.

Choso follows behind me as I make my way inside. I can't come up with any valid reasons as to why I'd need to go to his room.

The walk through the lobby, then the elevator ride, and finally the walk to my room are all too short. I don't have enough time to think of something.

I stop at my door to give myself a second to think.

"Are you ok?"

My hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment before falling to my side. "Choso, you should come in with me."

I turn to look at him after I ask. "What?" This is the first time I've seen him so caught off guard. Maybe that's because he usually stands behind me.

"I want you to come in with me."

"We have our own rooms." Despite his now hardened reaction, his cheeks are red with blush. "Ok." I stop pushing and unlock my door.

"Goodni-"

Choso's hand lands on the door to stop it from shutting. He looks down at me from his place in the doorway. I step out of his way and he walks into the room. The door shuts behind him, leaving us in darkness. Some of the city lights illuminate parts of the room.

Just enough so I can see him.

My heart beats heavily in my chest as I reach out to touch him. Choso steps closer to me and allows me to start undoing his tie.

It falls to the floor but my hands remain on his chest. I have to stand on my toes to reach his lips. Choso leans in and meets me in a kiss.

My hands grip his shirt in fistfuls. Our kiss becomes increasingly desperate. My back meets the wall with a thud. One of his hands lands on the wall next to my head. The other finds its way onto my back.

Choso follows my spine with his fingers. He reaches the nape of my neck and takes the zipper of my dress. The straps fall from my shoulders as the zipper is drawn lower and lower.

When the entire thing is unzipped I let it pool around my ankles. Choso lifts me and carries me across the room. He handles me so gently. I'm laid carefully onto the bed.

My heels are slipped off my feet and then tossed across the room. Choso's lips start at my ankles and trail upwards. Each kiss leaves me more and more entranced by his touch.

As his lips meet my thighs he starts to linger longer. My fingers reach out and grab his hair. He continues up to my hips and for a moment I think he might keep going until our lips meet again.

Instead, he hooks my underwear with his fingers and gives himself more access to me. His touch runs hot across my skin as he pulls my underwear down completely.

"Is this ok?"

"You don't have to ask."

My hands encourage his movements. Choso's lips meet my core in a heated kiss. The kiss feels starved like he needs me to live. He shifts my left leg over his shoulder to give himself better access.

"Oh my god..." I sit up, resting on my elbows to look at him. Choso is still completely dressed. Despite how good-looking he is in his suit, I want it off.

"Take your shirt off."

Choso doesn't falter or stop. Instead, he works his jacket off and lets it fall to the floor. He starts working on the buttons down his shirt until he can take that off too.

His back is painted with scars that remind me of where he came from. My eyes are drawn down by his. Choso watches me through lustful hooded eyes.

His tongue presses against my clit causing my legs to bend instinctively. The dim lights from the window draw harsh shadows across his body.

Choso's hair is a mess from my hands. It falls into his face and tickles the inside of my thighs. Still, he deepens his movements.

The graze of his teeth against sensitive flesh causes a gasp. My hips grind against his mouth as he presses his tongue flat against me. Choso lets out a deep moan that vibrates through my body.

Pleasure starts to build up within me overwhelmingly quickly. "Don't stop." My pleas are answered by Choso's quickened kissing.

He moans once more. My eyes fall lower, following his arm. Choso masturbates as he eats me out. "Shit." The sigh drags on with my orgasm.

Choso doesn't stop until I fall back onto the bed. He pulls away breathlessly and fully removed his pants. His toned chest is also littered with scars that only continue to turn me on.

"Can you continue?" He licks his lips and runs his hand along my thigh. "Yes." Choso nods and reaches up to remove my bra. "You're fucking beautiful." His hands run along my body as if to memorize the feeling.

I shift to the edge of the bed, sitting on my knees so I can kiss him. This kiss is soft. Choso's hand carefully holds my chin. I follow him blindly as he sits down on the bed.

We pull away for a moment. Gentle hands guide me onto his lap. Choso holds my back as I fit him inside of me. The pain turns to pleasure within a minute.

Our eyes stay locked as I roll my hips. My nails dig into his back as I move against him. "Y/n." My name comes out as a plead more than a statement.

My desperate movements become quicker at his unsaid request. Choso peppers kisses along my neck and shoulders. He finds a spot and begins to suck on it to leave a mark.

I tilt my head to the side to give him more access. "Ah- Choso!" He bites down on my neck. I don't know if he drew blood or not but his tongue traces the bite mark several times before he moves on.

Choso's hands grip my ass. He guides me vertically in addition to my horizontal movements. Our moans grow louder together as I follow his movement.

"You're so fucking perfect." Choso catches my lips after his comment, only for a moment. He watches me with such loving eyes my heart flutters in my chest.

Has he always looked at me like this?

The buildup of my second orgasm comes along with his. His grip on me tightens, I feel the twitch of his cock inside me, and his head falls forward onto my shoulder.

Choso mumbles words I can't hear over the sound of my own moans. My orgasm washes over me so intensely that my legs twitch at his side.

We hold each other for a minute before I shift off of his lap to lie down. Choso collapses down next to me. My hand finds his, intertwining our fingers.

"You're... Unbelievable."

The smile on my face feels like it might never go away again. "Do you like me, Choso?" I look over at him from my spot.

"Like you? Of course I like you." He meets my eyes for a moment before shyly looking away. "Do you have deeper feelings for me?"

If the lighting was better I think I'd be able to see that bright red blush all across his face. "I do." His eyes search the ceiling for anything to look at other than me.

"I have deeper feelings for you too." I sit up so he can't avoid looking at me. "You do?" I brush his sweaty hair from his face. "Of course." Choso doesn't return my happy grin.

Instead, he sits up and meets my lips in another passionate kiss. My arms lock around his shoulders to hold him closer. I'd stay like this forever if I had the choice.

Choso pauses for a moment then pulls away. He rubs my thigh as his eyes trail along my neck. He stops at the spot I assume he had bitten. My fingers feel across the skin for a moment before finding the mark.

"I'm sorry. You just tasted so good."

"Don't talk."

I lean back in and happily take another kiss from him. The bite mark will be hard to hide, especially since nothing I packed covers my neck.

Still, if he wanted to bite me again he could.

We could do this all over again as many times as he wants.

[etherealily]

guilt // f.odair

[1/3] Long. this was queued, idk if I've already promised another character before this is out.

Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings : Cuss words, SFW but discretion advised, mature themes.

Desc. : But is it in his nature?

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

'Suck on his sellout cock, go ahead', your mind taunts you as you traipse behind him into the Victor's Village, a place where you simultaneously hoped you'd live and you'd never step into again.

See, Finnick had always dominated your childhood.

You grew up watching him charm the nation, be welcomed back to the District like he was God.

One of your biggest flexes was that you got to see him in person in a parade once, when he'd come back from one of his many Capitol visits.

However. That all changed once you became fifteen. Because you'd finally got some fucking sense and realized that the people at the Capitol, the Hunger Games, none of it was fair, it was all fucking shit.

And you hated Finnick all the more for it.

Prancing around, doing promotions, adverts, sending children to die, being the Capitol's bitch. You'd narrowly escaped your last chance to be reaped, but you still wished he'd choke on his ridiculously expensive Capitol meal.

You couldn't respect him.

But. But, it wasn't like you'd ever tell him that, though. Because when Finnick Odair talks to you, you fucking talk back.

And when he tells you he wants you to come back home with him after seeing you by the ocean one night, you go, no matter how much you'd rather fucking kill yourself.

"This is my house.", he smiles, and waits expectantly, as if you're supposed to applaud.

"It's nice."

He doesn't look disappointed or surprised at that. In fact, he seems mildly entertained. "Get in."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

"And then, maybe, just bring your hand up the side of your leg? Yeah, yeah, just like that. Okay, yeah, sweetheart, that's it."

Click.

"And this is for..."

"Modelling."

"For the Capitol?"

"Who else?"

You raise a brow, your mind immediately picturing some rhinestone encrusted Capitol asshole getting off to a picture of you. You shudder.

"I'm joking. It's for me."

"For you?"

"Feel free to look around.", he says, offhandedly, as he looks through the camera at all the pictures he'd just clicked of you. "Maybe something will catch your fancy."

"You brought me here to... take pictures of me and... let me take whatever I want from your house?"

"I'm a weirdo, sweetheart."

"What will you do with the pictures?"

"I dunno. Can't publish them anywhere. I guess I'll just use them.", he mutters, more to himself than you, but you catch it. He looks up and then clarifies, "To improve my photography skills."

Thank fuck.

"Why me?"

"You're a good subject."

Your fingers move almost fluidly past various things, bottles of expensive liquor, watches, jewellery that he probably stole from his long list of Capitol lovers, and a single, slightly pathetic looking conch.

"I'm a subject? Like... math?"

He snorts. It's condescending, he's aware - there's no way you'd know. You've never been out of the District.

"It's photography lingo. A subject is who you're taking photos of. You have the correct facial structure for my lighting to illuminate you how I want it to. Hence, you're a good subject."

"Oh."

He continues flicking through photos and adjusting the background, taking a few trial shots with the result of his tinkering, until he seems to notice that you haven't spoken in a while. "You like the conch?"

"It's pretty."

"So are you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ugh. There he goes again, back to Finnick Odair, Capitol man-whore instead of Finnick, photo geek.

You turn to him. "How much did it cost? Twice the wine?"

"I didn't buy it. I found it, back when I was eleven."

"You've had it for almost a decade?"

He licks his lips, his hands pausing their scrolling of the camera's gallery for a moment. "I guess it has been a decade."

"What was it like, though? When you won?"

"Won? Won what?"

"The Games."

"Oh. Uh... bittersweet."

"Bitter? Why would it be bitter?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Sit down."

You know the truth. He just didn't want to admit that there was nothing bitter going on. He won because he was hot, and now, he continued reaping the benefits of his genetic lottery win.

You sit, still looking up at him as he comes to kneel in front of you, turning his camera to you. "What do you think?"

The pictures he's taken of you have an unsettling ethereality to them. In one, you're looking out the window with your back to the camera, your outfit hidden by a rose he'd apparently been holding in front of the camera.

A white rose.

It featured in every fucking picture, so much so that you almost asked him about it. Key word : almost.

In one of the more lighthearted ones, the rose sat in your mouth.

"They're pretty nice."

"Is your vocabulary limited to those two words? Pretty. Nice."

"I don't know what else to say."

He regards your face for a moment - like, really fucking observes you - before fiddling with some knob on the camera. "Take off your clothes."

That shouldn't have surprised you as much as it did.

"What?"

He looks up, confused. "Take off your clothes and I'll take some pictures."

"What? No."

"You don't want to? But you were okay with all the previous pictures."

"Yeah, because I was clothed."

"Being unclothed is a problem for you? Being exposed? Hm? That bothers you?"

What?!

"I- look, man, I'm not trying to offend you."

"But you are. You said you'd let me take photos of you. You are not your clothes, are you? You are your self, your soul, your body."

"Yeah, but I'm just not comfortable."

'Y'know what, sweetheart, people do shit they're not comfortable with all the fucking time. Twenty-five/eight. If you can't deal with it, you're weak. Take. It. Off."

You had a feeling there was another reason he was so angry about your non-compliance, but you didn't push it.

"Please don't make me do this."

"Fine! FUCK! Am I asking you to suck my cock? Huh? I could, y'know that? I could've, but no, I asked you to help me make art, and you chickened out!", he yells, his finger scarily close to poking your eye.

Finnick Odair was no longer pissing you off.

Finnick Odair was genuinely scaring you.

"Just get out.", he mutters, setting his camera down in defeat on his couch. "Get out, seriously."

You don't even have two seconds of backing-away-time before he stops you again. "What if I killed your family?"

That scares you more. "What?"

"What if I killed your family? Or at least, threatened to? Would you do it? Would you?", he asks, and now, he's not angry at you, or frustrated, he's more desperate, frantic, as if your answer would shake his fucking world.

As if your answer would change his self perception.

"Please don't kill my family."

"Would you suck my cock if I threatened to kill your family, Y/N?!"

"YES!", you scream, flinching, almost. "Yes! I would, but please, PLEASE don't!"

Finnick Odair gazes back at you with relief, and you want to strangle him. "You would, wouldn't you? You'd do unspeakable things for your family, yes?"

Well, of course.

"Things that would make your skin crawl. Not just because you love them, but because you're responsible for them. Because you got yourself into this mess."

He's no longer talking to or about you, that much is clear.

"And it's up to you to keep them away from it."

Slowly backing away, you try your hardest not to show up in his peripheral, to make sure he stays in whatever zone he's in.

But he is Finnick Odair. So he doesn't even look up at you as he instructs you. "Don't take the conch." Like stealing from him was the first thing on your mind.

"Wasn't planning to."

"Don't tell anyone about today."

"Wasn't planning to."

"Stay."

Wasn't planning to.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Stay."

The apology only solidifies your urge to stab him in the gut. "I have to get home."

"I didn't mean stay the night. I don't want you staying the night."

Finnick Odair, as you had begun to gather, was debilitatingly honest.

"I just mean stay for a while. Have dinner and then go."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner. I have turkey from the Capitol."

"What's that?"

"It's a kind of bird. It's just like chicken but better."

"What's chicken?"

"Another kind of bird."

"Oh."

He frowns at you for a moment. "You're not okay with eating birds, are you?"

"They're just... very rare, so I don't see why you have to kill them."

He sighs, looking around the room in deep thought. "I could make fish. You know fish. You like fish."

You do know fish. You do like fish. You nod.

~~~~

Finnick's fish is unlike any you've ever fucking eaten.

Living in District 4, you'd figured you'd had fish every way it could be cooked. But no.

You can't help but take more. And more. And more. You weren't hungry, and momentarily felt guilt, thinking about kids in the other districts who were, but it was divine and you couldn't bring yourself to care much.

"You like that?", he asks, from opposite you, raising a brow in amusement.

"It's really fucking good."

He whistles lowly. "Ooh, nice, vocabulary expansion. So you do cuss. I was afraid I'd corrupted you with my rough Capitol language.", he muses, looking at your plate. "You have room for dessert?"

"Doesn't everyone, always?"

He nods. "That's fair. Cake?"

CAKE? This Capitol whore managed to bring cake back to District 4?

"Sure."

That was divine, too.

"You like that, too?"

"Yeah. It's really good. The Capitol has it really good."

"The Capitol is filled with cunts who throw up food because they want to taste more."

Was that... disdain? Interesting.

"Well, seeing as you spend most of the year there, I just thought..."

He stands, clearing the plates. "What? That I was one of them?"

You watch him go into the kitchen, taking a sip of water as you do. "No, just that... no, yeah, I did."

"It's okay, I get that a lot. I just... I gotta go, do these promotions, adverts. I have to. I made a deal."

You sigh, standing and pushing the dining table chair back to its original position. "Contract?"

He clenches his jaw momentarily, before nodding, his shoulders tense. "Yeah. Sm'n like that.", he grins, his dimples emerging once more. Thirteen year old you would have swooned and fainted and died.

Eighteen year old you just lets him lead you to the door.

"I'm leaving for the Capitol tomorrow. Along with the tributes from this year."

Why he's telling you this, you have no clue.

"You should come and wave me off."

"Do we know each other well enough for that?"

"No, but I know you know the tributes well. One of them goes to school with you, doesn't she?"

Yes. Little Faye.

"Yes, she's in the eighth grade. I used to tutor her."

The reality hits. She will probably never be able to high-five you when she gets a question right again.

"You should give her courage.", he suggests. "Going in thinking you're going to die will get you killed. Let her know she can make it."

"Can she?", you ask, quietly. The answer will ruin you, you can tell.

"She's a Career."

"Yes, but can she?"

"Chances are slim." Finnick fucking Odair. Finnick "debilitatingly honest" fucking Odair. "I won't tell her that, though."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Finnick."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

His hands grip your chin and you swear you're about to kill him. You look up at him, hanging out the open door of the train carriage and holding onto you, and you're half tempted to pull him down with you because what the fuck was he doing?

You can feel it coming, the urge to slap him away, but then again, it's still Finnick FUCKING Odair, and you're not sure if there's a law against rejecting his advances.

So you just kind of let him kiss you. It's not bad, no, far from it, it's just... unexpected.

Considering it's in front of every camera in the district.

Considering you'd only known each other one night.

Considering his last words were 'you're the only thing I care about.'

Considering he said your full name an unsettling amount of times.

Considering little Faye was watching and wondering why you were calm enough to be making out with some hot guy instead of sending her off.

Considering now the entirety of Panem was either going gush at you or rush at you.

~~~~

You can't bring yourself to watch the news.

Everyone assumes it's because of Finnick.

But, ironically, Finnick's the only one who knows it's not.

It's because of Faye.

"Finnick's on TV.", you're informed at least twice an hour.

"'Kay.", is your usual response. "Faye?"

"I'm sure Finnick trained her well. And besides, the 11th is this weekend! You'll find out."

Right. You'd been invited by Snow him-fucking-self to the Capitol. Apparently, the cameras outside your house weren't enough. He needed you there, with Finnick, for promos. While children were dying.

You receive gifts from your family, your neighbours, your teachers - basically anyone you'd breathed around - for your journey to the Capitol, as if you're going to some dreamland.

As you ride the train, your head against the seat, you try to imagine this is the train that leads you out of District 4. Your family will be waiting at the destination - in your head, an actual dreamland - and you'll be fine and dandy.

As you're escorted out, you imagine you're hanging from the ceiling in full display on the TV instead of Faye having to go through the Games.

And as you're directed to Finnick's room, you imagine slitting his throat. It's funny. You almost laugh. Then, the door opens.

Dimples.

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

"How is it you've never worn lip tint before?", he mutters, tutting as if you'd just misspelled a basic word. "C'mon, pucker up.", he instructs, his thumb smearing red on your lips.

You have no idea what you look like and you're not sure if you want to find out. "I thought you were a merchant."

You shake your head. "No, I said I live by the merchant sector of 4."

"Not in it?"

"Of course not. Why would I have been picking seashells to make necklaces out of if I were a merchant? I just sell shit in the marketplace. Doesn't make me a merchant."

"I mean, technically... yeah, it does.", he says, his thumb accidentally slipping and smudging your makeup over the left of your cheek.

"Right, well, I'm not merchant class.', you shrug, trying to wipe the results of idiocy that was Finnick Odair off the side of your cheek.

Finnick... seems to get it. He nods along as he continues trying to de-plague your face with makeup.

Guilt is etched on his face. Regret, a tiny bit. Sadness, festering throughout.

"What's that look?"

He doesn't seem like he's out of whatever thought he was in moments ago when he hums in response, before quickly leaping towards his bedside and taking his camera, holding his thumb next to your bottom lip, with your still messy lip tint just about seen. Click.

"What's that look?", you repeat.

"What look?"

"That one.", you say, pointing to his face as if he can see it.

"That's my sorry look. I shouldn't have sprung the kiss on you. It was a dick move.", he says, gently moving behind you and guiding your shoulders to manoeuver you to face the mirror.

He says it as if he already knows you'll forgive him.

Yes, you do. But it irks you that he seems to assume that.

"Yes, it was."

"I'm sorry. What do you think?"

"I look like the 12 escort."

"Trinket? No, no way. You look great.", he assures, and you try to believe him, but you haven't seen yourself in makeup before and it doesn't look as though it's you standing there.

"Beautiful.", he says, as an afterthought, almost, as if he were trying out the word to see if it sounded right or not. He seems to decide on the former. "Beautiful.", he repeats, nodding.

That gets your attention and you take a second glance, and suddenly, you see what he sees. The makeup isn't subtle and hidden, but it isn't what the Capitol wears. It's... pleasant.

He brushes some hair in front of your shoulders. "See? Beautiful.", he reiterates, like he can't get enough of that word now.

"You sure I'll fit in here like this? Like... dressed up?"

"Yeah.", he says, vehemently nodding before doing that thing when he looked in your eyes again. "Well, mostly. I mean, I'd prefer it if you had the easiest time possible, 'cause I kinda got you into this mess."

You nod. That checks out. "Thanks."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

The night sees you staring at the ceiling while Finnick breathes softly in sleep beside you. It's pleasant. Domestic, almost. Like what Finnick wants, you think. Like the Capitol believes, you know.

He shifts and your eyes snap shut. Why you're so afraid of him finding out that you are awake, you don't know, but you are. He reaches out, his knuckles grazing your cheek with enough purpose that you realize he wasn't asleep in the first place, either.

And then he does it.

His hand reaches out, gently feeling around for your hand, before he grips the middle three fingers on your left.

He squeezes them softly, then brings them to his chest, where his own hand lays. That's it.

You watch him actually sleep until he mumbles, shifting again. 'Y/N?"

"Yeah?", you respond immediately, kicking yourself internally. Cover blown.

"Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Scared?"

"Mhm."

"Of the photos we took today? I promise, the makeup isn't bad, and you won't have to take any more - they'll publish them and pass them off as taken over a few months, so it's not-"

"No, for Faye."

Silence. "Oh."

"I feel like I didn't get to even tell her how well she's going to do."

"You can see her."

You can what?

"When?"

"Well, not in person, but we can watch the live feed of the Gam-"

"Yes. Yes, please, thank you.'

He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Yes, absolutely. When can we?"

"Well, technically, it's always streaming, so I, I guess we can go now."

You nod.

He raises a brow as if he never expected you to agree. "Okay, uh, just, uh... gimme a second to wake up, okay?"

He comes out of the bathroom after washing his face to find you pacing, biting the inside of your cheek. "C'mon."

~~~~

The Viewing Room is desolate except for a few Gamemakers' Assistants (GAs), that have to watch footage 24/7.

"We have to record these things all the time, just in case something happens during the cover of nightfall", he explains, as he walks in front of you and gestures to the large screen in the opposite side of the room. "Usually, the stronger Careers, from 1 or 2-", he cuts himself off. That was not what you needed to be hearing right now.

He watches as you slowly walk up to the screen, as though the soft glow from it could lead you to Faye. Your eyes dart around the entirety of the enormous screen, looking for something - anything - to announce you of Faye's survival.

"She is still alive. You'd have heard a cannon and seen a picture of her if not."

It's not the most comforting thing he can say. He's usually better at this. God, if he didn't miss his old self, but the guilt of essentially using you to keep Snow's interest off his family and on you, the - to the extent of Snow's knowledge, anyway - love of his life, isn't exactly letting him be warm and inviting to you.

But he wants to. Let it be known, he wants nothing more than to do what he usually does. Brighten people up.

"Where is she?"

"WE'VE GOT A RUNNER!", calls one of the GAs and your head snaps to a blue triangle tracking one of the tributes on the screen, and you run over to that side of the massive screen.

The lights come on in the room, and people flood in. Sponsors, gamblers, Gamemakers. Because this is prime TV. He imagines every screen in the country lighting up, because you have to watch. Every child has just been woken up because the feed's back on.

"Who's the runner?", someone asks, and Finnick turns to you, diligently tracking the blue triangle with your eyes. Blue. Ocean. District 4. It's Faye.

"Girl from Four. The boy's already dead."

"How much did I have on her?"

"Oh, c'mon, you didn't have shit on her! No one thought she'd make it this far."

"Fine, fine, but now how much?"

The sounds of cruelty almost have him zoning out, going back into Capitol-Party-Finnick-Mode. That is, until, you call him.

"Finnick?"

He rushes to your side, a guilt induced speed to his gait. "Yeah, y'okay?" No the fuck she isn't. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Who's the gold triangle chasing her?" Gold. Luxury. District 1. CAREER.

"Uh..." Deliver it softly. Sweetly.

"Unless she's a shapeshifter, the girl's DEAD!", laughs one of the sponsors. "It's my tribute, the Career boy from 1 chasin' her, with... wait, zoom in? Oh, yeah, a dagger!"

Your eyes widen and Finnick wants to kill himself. "She'll be fine. She can swim, he..."

Can also swim. Fuck.

"... he won't be able to keep up with her." , he says, finally.

Partially true. District 1 Careers didn't have access to the ocean, not like those from 4, so it was very much possible that he wasn't trained to know about tides and currents and shit.

There's a moment where no one in the room says anything. Because they both just jumped into the water, and Faye went under.

Finnick holds your head to his chest as you cling onto him in fear. It's not even remotely close to making up for what he's planning to put you through - well, already putting you through - but he at least feels a bit like the old him. The one who could actually comfort.

The tribute from 1 splashes around a bit, looking for Faye. You've turned a bit now, your head's still in his chest, but half your face is facing the screen. You're watching, anxious as ever.

"She's not drowned.", he mutters, stupidly. Duh.

"What if something pulled her under?"

Oh fuck. Yeah. Valid point.

"I'm sure it's just a strategy."

One that he remembers teaching her.

Maybe if she uses this and beats this District 1 Career, he could be one more step closer to gaining your forgiveness, and his redemption.

For a crime that the victim wasn't even aware was being committed.

The Career flounders around a bit more, screaming, clearly, but the audio is muted here. He looks around, not willing to look under, in case that might trigger the release of any muttations the Capitol cooked up for them.

And then, he's tugged a bit, his leg down, and he springs away from the motion. Please be Faye. Please be Faye.

He's jerked fully under, and a splash of Faye's hair can be seen before both disappear underneath the midlly murky waters, a struggle very evident in the way the water's splattering about.

Suddenly, it stops.

Faye leaps exhaustedly onto the bank, gasping for breath.

A cannon goes off. Florian Jentry. District 1 , Luxury. Score : 10.

Finnick holds onto you tighter as you sigh in relief. He softly kisses your hair because he doesn't know what else to do.

Relief is the only possible emotion to feel.

No one's happy. No one's sad. You're only either relieved that your loved one isn't gone, or relieved that they're not gone in a torturous way.

Wait, scratch that. The patron who just bet on Faye is happy.

[wayrad]

hiii number 15 on that prompt list would be delicious if u fancy it

omgosh yes anything for you legend <3

for prompt 15: “this is going to hurt, okay?”

Usually John’s the rash one, the on who jumps in over his head, doesn’t think things through. Prefers it that way, too; if he’s going off the deep end at least he knows Gale will be there to reign him back in. Get a hand on his nape and tell him knock it off, Bucky, always in that tone of voice that John needs.

That’s not how it happened today. Today, just another tick on the wall, and Gale woke up on the edge. He goes non-verbal, somedays, has got a storm brewing in him, and no seems to notice it but John. He knew today was a bad one, and not just for Gale; the Luftwaffe officers feel it too. The edge, like a knife licking up the spine. They hold their rifles a little higher, the chains on their dogs a little looser.

Gale had been so quiet. He’d never been the one they watch, especially not on days like these, but. But.

And John should’ve known. Should’ve.

Now, perspiration gathers on Gale’s severe brow bone. He looks pasty as a ghost, sounds like one too; the air in his lungs is rattling about like it’s slipping through the cracks of him. He looks drunk- but that’d be a mercy in here.

“Gale,” John says, tries, for what seems like the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes. “Gale, baby. Baby can you hear me?”

The pain’s making him delirious. He’s in shock, too, up to his head in it, shivering, muttering all incoherent. And John hasn’t been able to look at it, not for long- Gale's sleeve, pulled up, what’s waiting there for them. It’s still in the shape of a mouth, like the mutt was still hanging onto Gale’s tattered flesh, yanking, pulling as the German officer just watched and let it all happen.

John had ordered every man to stay out. He’d— handle it. He’d take care of Gale.

“I’m going to get your shirt open, okay?” he says slowly, taking the ruddied fabric between his fingers. When he shifts it experimentally Gale’s chest heaves, a wet sob breaking apart from his lips. It’s the loudest he’s been all day, loudest he's been since the bite took him.

John takes Gale's shoulders, hopes it's soothing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he lulls. "Ain't no doctors around, not yet. Just me. I'm doing the best I can, huh?"

To that, Gale says nothing. Just clutches at his shoulder like he's trying to keep his arm attached to his body. John gives up on getting Gale's shirt off the right way; he finds little dull scissors the guys use to cut out pinups and takes the sleeve right from the seam. Warm clothes are hard to come by, and Gale would say as much, if he could.

Without the fabric to cover the gash, John's faced with the gravity of their situation. Puncture wounds litter the purpling skin of Gale's forearm, blood tacked and dripping across his wrist. There are chunks of skin missing. Around it, a mottled bruise blooms purple and green over the entire thing, makes John think it really could fall off.

"Jesus," he mutters. They've got nothing to clean it with, nothing proper, but- and that's an idea. John cups Gale's jaw. "Hey. I'm not leaving, okay?" he says. Gale shivers against him. His skin is clammy and too-hot, but he nods, and that's something.

John makes across the room, below his bunk, to where a jar of contraband liquor is stashed next to the notebook he was able to scrounge up a couple weeks ago.

This isn't exactly the special occasion he'd been saving it for.

Rounding up on Gale again, John smooths his sweat-stringy hair from his forehead. "Gale," he says. "This is going to hurt, okay?"

Gale flashes John his eyes- blue and full of pain- and John almost can't do it. Almost.

He unscrews the cap and tips, takes Gale's wrist when he jerks, crying out in pain. Forces it down. He holds Gale's arm and doesn't stop pouring until he runs through the entire jar. "Shh," he says, and it isn't enough, nothing could be enough. "Shh, Buck, it's okay."

Gale's body kicks against his chair. Slumps, eyes shutting. He's hasn't got enough fight left in him to break John's grip: he isn't eating, isn't sleeping, and now this. John's never seen him like this before. Not once in his life.

"Did good, Gale, huh?" John says. Presses his lips to the fire-hot skin of his forehead, slumping too. "Did good."

[rabbidbunwy]

Hi, dear!! Hope you've been well!! ^^

Would you be interested in writing a fic about Gojo finding out his s/o is trans fem (amab)?

Thanks!! Remember to stay healthy ^_^

Love you still

Contents:Gojo x Trans!(male to fem)reader--cute-fluff-sweet-confession-cuddles-kissing

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

P.s: i never done this kind of subject before so sorry if it's not good but thanks for the reminder to stay healthy love,you too ⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @satorkive @ponderingmoonlight @kurominiiiz

For a few moments, Gojo was silent. This had come as a surprise to him. He'd been with this person for a while, and had seen nothing to suggest that they were transgender. But here you are, sitting there on the bed with a worried look on your face, having just told him this.

"And you thought I wouldn't want this? Babe, just because your gender is different than when we first started dating doesn't mean I don't love you anymore."

He reached out, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close. A long, happy sigh escapes your chest as Gojo holds you tight, telling you how much he loves you. Despite the revelation of your gender identity, he doesn't seem to be at all bothered by it. Your mind is at ease now, reassured by the fact that he's completely fine with it.

"I love you. So much." Satoru murmurs into your neck. You look up at him, gazing into his icy blue eyes.

You lean in and kiss him gently on the lips. It's a slow and tender kiss, filled with both passion and deep affection. Satoru wraps his arms around you again, pulling you closer and holding you in a warm embrace. You don't hold back, letting all your emotions pour into this moment. The kiss becomes more intense, deeper and more passionate. You are both completely immersed in the moment, completely lost in the love and desire that is shared between you.

As you pull away, you're both left panting and gasping for breath. You can't help but smile at the intensity of the kiss, and you lean your head on Gojo's shoulder, feeling content and safe in his arms.

"I love you, Satoru. I always will." you whisper. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he kisses the top of your head.

You sit there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in each others' arms. Finally, Gojo speaks up.

"You know I'm gonna be with you no matter what, right? Your gender doesn't change anything. If anything, it just makes me love you even more."

He smiles, and you realize that you've found the person who truly loves and accepts you for who you are, unconditionally.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. Tears of happiness, relief, and gratitude. He holds you even tighter, gently stroking your hair as if to say that everything will be alright. The fact that this powerful sorcerer, the strongest in the world, is willing to stay by your side no matter what warms your heart

"I know, Satoru. I know."

You can feel Gojo's heart beating against your cheek, a comforting rhythm that helps you relax. You close your eyes, just letting yourself be held in his arms. The fact that he's so supportive and accepting of your gender identity fills you with a sense of security and love.

"So" Gojo says after a few moments. "Does this mean I get to go shopping with you for girls' clothes?"

You look up at him, a little surprised by his question. But then you see the mischievous glimmer in his eyes and realize he's just teasing you. Still, the very thought of going shopping for girls' clothes with Gojo… it's a little mortifying.

"Um… sure." You say, blushing a little. You never thought you'd be going shopping for clothes with your boyfriend, but here you are.

Gojo laughs, amused at your embarrassment. He leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm just joshin' with you, babe. You don't have to look so mortified."

He grins, clearly enjoying this a little too much. You roll your eyes, but secretly, you find it kind of endearing how excited he is.

He takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers.

"But seriously, if you want to go shopping, I'll go with you. I'll even carry the bags and be your personal shopping assistant."

You can't help but chuckle at the image of Gojo carrying around a bunch of shopping bags. It's both funny and oddly sweet at the same time.

He looks at you with a sly grin.

"And by the way, just so you know, I have very good taste in fashion. I'll help you pick out the cutest outfits ever."

You scoff lightly, knowing that Gojo's fashion sense is often questionable. Still, you have a feeling that shopping with him might be fun after all.

Gojo chuckles heartily at your response, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He leans down and starts peppering kisses all over your face, his lips brushing against your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids, and finally your lips.

With each kiss, he lets out a soft, low laugh, clearly enjoying himself. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and his hands gently caress your face as he continues to shower you in kisses.

After a few more moments, Gojo finally pulls away, looking down at you with a satisfied smile. His eyes rake over your face, appreciating the blush that he's brought to your cheeks.

"I love covering your face in kisses, he whispers, his voice slightly husky. "You look so cute when you get all flustered like this."

You playfully nudge him in the chest, unable to hide the rosy hues on your cheeks.

"You're so cheesy, you know that?" Gojo just grins wider, not at all sorry for being cheesy. He enjoys seeing you like this, all flustered and blushing because of his attention. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you.

"And you love it. Admit it."

You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest. Gojo's right, of course. There's something about his cheesy, over-the-top affections that you secretly enjoy. It makes you feel special and loved. You lean against him, burying your face in his chest to hide your embarrassment.

"Yeah, yeah, I do love it. Happy now?"

Gojo hums in contentment, feeling victorious. He runs his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle and affectionate. He pulls you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head.

"Very happy."

He pauses, then adds in a low voice. "You know, the more you blush, the more I get the urge to kiss you senseless."

You can feel your face burning even more at his words. His voice is so damn sexy, and the way he says things like that with such confidence makes your stomach do somersaults. You pull back just enough to look up at him, and you see the mischievous glimmer in his eyes again. He's clearly enjoying getting you all worked up like this.

He reaches up to cup your cheek with one hand, his thumb gently tracing the blush on your skin.

"See? Look at how cute you are when you're all flustered, he murmurs, his voice dripping with adoration. "It's downright addictive."

He leans in and brushes his lips against your earlobe, his breath warm on your skin. "So addictive… I don't think I'll ever get tired of this."

© rabbidbunwy all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my work without my permission. thank you for reading and supporting my work

[bangpop91]

The New Kitten

It's day 7 of @bucktommypositivityweek round 2.

Today's prompt: Predictions for the future

Salem takes protecting the new kitten very seriously. Or Buck and Tommy are new parents and this is how Salem feels about it.

Salem is sitting on his perch in the bedroom looking into the small basket holding the naked kitten who is currently fast asleep. He'd heard his people talking about the new baby coming and as a rule he does not like children. Jee and Mara being the exceptions. But they are sweet girls who give him lots of pets and treats and are always very gentle. 

And while he has made friends with Felix, the dog is large and hyperactive, and someone has to make sure the big, slobbering imbecile doesn't trample the new kitten with his massive paws. Salem doesn't care that Felix had been calm or gentle a few days before when Tommy held the kitten they call Luc in his arms introducing the pair. He knows his people would protect Luc as best they could, but they are obviously very tired from the new kitten so it falls to Salem to protect Luc.

Not that Tommy and Evan necessarily agree since they keep removing him from Luc's basket when he tries curling up with the big, hairless kitten, telling Salem that the basket isn't for him. Which is incredibly impudent if they had bothered to ask him, which they didn't. But Evan had built him another perch that would allow him to keep an eye on Luc in his basket, so Evan must understand that Salem is just protecting their new family member.

Luc starts fussing in his basket, Salem wants to jump in there and sooth the poor hairless kitten, but his humans have made it clear he's not allowed in Luc’s basket. So instead he leaps from his perch landing next to Evan's head who is starting to shift into being awake. Not fast enough for Salem's liking though, so he licks into the humans ear making him jump to and glare at him.

“What the hell Salem? What's with the wet willie?” Salem glared at him, but now that the human was awake he heard the kitten fussing. “Oh, Luc needs me huh.” Evan ran a hand over Salem's fur affectionately as he stood up to grab the kitten from it's basket. “Good boy, Salem.” 

“Evan?” His favorite human grunted from the other side of the bed sitting up looking like he was in desperate need of grooming. 

“Luc, needs a bottle and a fresh diaper.” Salem made sure to keep a very close eye on things as Evan transferred the kitten into Tommy’s arms. “I'll be right back if you want to take care of that diaper.” He plopped his butt down in front of Tommy and Luc to supervise the diaper change, butting his head against Luc's and purring loudly when he started crying.

“I know, Lucian, you're cold. I'm sorry Papa will go quick.” Salem glared at his favorite human. “Oh don't give me that look. I've gotten much better at changing diapers.” He had, but Evan is still faster at it. Evan appeared plopping down on the bed next to Tommy swirling a bottle of milk as Tommy finished tucking Luc into his pajamas and funny bag. 

It looked like the new parents had everything under control as Evan took back Luc. Which means Salem has earned a zoomies break. Someone had to check the perimeter after all.

Tagging @sunnywithachanceofbi for the Salem content and @cannibalhellhound because you love animal stories. Bellow the cut are the inspiration pictures for Salem and Felix(who is a Dalmation/Newfoundland mix)

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Just read Dave awards ceremony fic and I am desperate for a part II!!!!!!!! Like Dave continuing to reconcile with small joys and grand gestures and also more s*x

Warnings: Smut, public sex, angst, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Part 1

You left the bathroom with Dave following close behind you until you slipped into the crowd and he lost you. There was no way you were sitting through more of this, not after everyone saw Dave following you into the bathroom.

You went out to find the limo that had brought you there but couldn't find it, it was supposed to take you and your band back but you supposed it would have a time to be back there and not just sit around waiting in the meantime.

So, you were waiting in the cold, dead night, face red and puffy from crying and not nearly enough layers for winter.

Something fell over your shoulders and you looked to see Dave draping his suit jacket over you, your bag in hand. He handed it back to you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

"I can drive you home." By the tone of his voice you could tell this wasn't his way of getting you in bed, his tone was protective like he always used to use with you. Warm and comforting.

It wasn't an offer, either, he was simply telling you what was going to happen in a gentle way, another thing you missed him doing with you.

He guided you to his car and helped you into the passenger seat, opening the door for you and buckling you up, giving your forehead a quick kiss before closing the door and making his way to the other side.

You sat in silence on the drive, staring out the window. You noticed pretty quickly he wasn't taking you to your house, mostly because he didn't know where you lived. He was taking you back to his place.

Upon entering his house you saw it looked to be set up like a date. Not a fancy one that ended in fucking, one of the cute ones he used to always set up for the two of you, pillow forts and movie nights.

But it was late, the lights were dimmed and potted plants, your favourite flowers, led you up to his room.

He kept his hand on your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze every now and then as you walked. On the bed was a shirt of his, your favourite one you'd always steal and sleep in.

You stared at it as it lay on the bed, waiting for you to put it on and wear it.

"I haven't touched it since you left." Dave said, standing by his dresser and looking for his own clothes.

"Why not?" You asked, eyes still on the shirt. It seemed like a perfectly fine shirt, a sex pistols one he'd gotten years ago with a faded picture on it.

You couldn't say why it was your favourite, maybe it was the holes under the arms or the size of it, just the fact that it was his and smelled like him. You'd go days wearing it, only taking it off when it stopped smelling like him.

"You should've taken it." He said, taking his shirt off before undoing his jeans. "It's your favourite, I couldn't wear it after... everything."

You let out a soft sigh and nodded. "It's your fucking fault, you know that right?" He stared at you, a look in his eyes you didn't recognize. It wasn't empty like the one he had when you were arguing, different to when you were fucking. You'd never even seen it on dates or anything.

There was so much emotion in them, guilt and hurt swirling in their depths. He knew it was his fault, he hadn't stopped reminding himself that it was his fault this whole time.

You slipped out of your dress and into the shirt, breathing in his scent, while he got into sweats.

Dave sat on the bed, back against the headboard. He pat the spot beside him, gesturing for you to join him.

"I-I'm not doing-"

"You don't have to do anything, sweetheart." He interrupted. "You've had a hard day, you need to lay down, watch a good movie and get your hair played with." You chewed your cheek a moment.

He knew you, god, did he know you.

You crawled into bed, getting under the covers and curling up next to him, head resting on his lap. His one hand went to your hair, the other found a remote and put on your favourite movie, and when you started getting tired, which you always do when watching movies, he started running his hand over your face, specifically your eyes, silently encouraging you to close them and just listen until you fell asleep.

You planned to leave the next morning but he made you breakfast in bed, you didn't want to leave after he'd gone through the effort of making you food so you stayed to eat, planning on leaving after. Then you didn't.

He took you shopping, not how you'd planned on spending your day but he wanted you to get something pretty because he got a reservation at a restaurant that night.

If he'd already gotten the reservation you couldn't just say no, you told yourself. So you went, and he made you laugh, he didn't go more than five minutes without telling you how beautiful you were, how important you are and how much he loved you.

He couldn't let you forget, what kind of guy would do that?

At the end of the night, after hours of pampering you, he said he'd drive you home, your home. But he didn't, said he needed to make a quick stop.

He drove you up a mountain, where the hell he was taking you was beyond you but you figured he wouldn't spend all that money on you just to kill you. He'd get blood all over your outfit and wouldn't be able to return it, the food was obviously not refundable, there was no logic behind that.

He eventually parked on a cliff. Maybe he was killing you. Oh well, you could die happy after that night. Maybe that's what he was planning.

Dave stepped out of the car and sat on the hood, staring off into the night sky. It was beautiful, a clear sky with less light pollution.

Your first date. This is where he brought you on your first date.

You got out of the car and sat with him on the hood of his car, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin on them. Dave looked at you, eyes trailing over you.

"Your shoes are gonna fuck up my paint job." You swatted at him, he chuckled. "It's pretty, isn't it?"

Now it was your turn to chuckle. "Not as pretty as me, though, right?" You asked teasingly. He'd been sweet to you all day, sure, but it did tend to get cheesy. You loved it.

"Nothing is prettier than you." He said, nothing but seriousness in his tone. "There's a million stars in the sky, billions of people on the planet, trillions of grains of sands... and there's only one of you."

You stared at him with stars in your eyes as he spoke to you, words strung with such passion and so genuinely.

He reached out for your face, cupping your cheek in his warm palm, leaning closer until there was less than an inch between your lips.

You closed your eyes prematurely, waiting for his lips on yours but they never came. "Can you go look in the glove compartment for me?" He asked softly.

You opened your eyes. Confused, you just did as he asked and got off the hood of his car and walked around to the passenger side to look in the glove compartment.

Inside were papers, papers, glasses, and... a small, velvety box. You looked up and saw Dave staring off towards the stars.

You took the box and walked back over to him, handing the box to him. He took it and looked up at you with a worry in his eyes.

"Ask me." You demanded, eyes already filling with tears.

"What?" He asked, voice shaky.

"Ask me." You repeated.

Dave slid off the car and onto one knee, flipping the box open to show you the most beautiful ring you'd ever seen. It was exactly what you'd ever wanted and more, the way it caught the moonlight, band nestled nicely in the cushion.

"Y/n, I have never claimed to be perfect, far from it... I fucked up so, so bad and I didn't know what to do I just knew I needed you back but you weren't talking to me, reasonably so, and-"

"Ask me, Dave." You interrupted, getting impatient as he walked you through your break-up. There was no one there, no one to walk through, you wanted to be his fiancée.

"No, this is important to me." He said, smiling up at you. "I knew when those awards ceremonies were coming up I had to do whatever I could to get you back, I got us at the same table, I ordered the flowers and had them set up in advance, I reserved that table months ago and then went to buy you a ring... I love you, you loved you then, I love you now, I will love you always."

Tears were now streaming down both your faces, sobs catching in your throats and before he even finished you were on your knees and clinging onto him as he spoke. "Y/n... will you do me the honour of being my wife..?" You nodded frantically, barely pulling back enough to let him slip the ring onto your finger.

The stars, the ring, the quiet. It was perfect. You cried in his arms, he littered kisses all over your face and neck, quickly getting more aggressive until he was laying you down on the grass and hiking your dress up over your hips, undoing his pants and pushing them down his thighs.

He wasted no time in pushing into you, letting you moan out into the abyss. He thrust into you hard, an almost desperate movement. "Fuck, my beautiful girl, my beautiful fiancée." He grunted.

He tugged at the straps of your dress and pulled it down, revealing your chest and sucking on your nipple, pinching the other between his calloused fingers.

Your back was arching off the grass, bringing you impossibly closer to him. You felt your body heating up, a knot building in you.

Dave could feel your gummy walls fluttering around him, squeezing his hard cock as he rocked in and out of you. "Go on, sweetheart, cum for me, cum on my cock." He said through grunts, moving his kisses up to your neck again, nipping and leaving love bites.

And like that the knot snapped, screaming out into the void, repeating his name over and over as you came around him, clenching tightly around him.

Dave bit down on your neck, hips bucking involuntarily as he refused to cum just yet, despite how desperate he was for release.

He pulled out of you and helped you get yourself right, pulling his pants up as well, hard-on very much prominent through the fabric. He carried you into the car and buckled you in on the passenger side before getting in on the drivers side and starting to drive off again back to his house, your house.

As he drove and your mind cleared up you looked over at him. "Why did you do that?"

He glanced at you a moment but tried to keep his focus on the road. "Do what? Propose?"

You snorted. "That too, but no..." You shook your head. "Why'd you stop? Wouldn't be the first time you came inside, wouldn't be the last."

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "It's not about cumming inside, it's-it's cumming as a whole." He said, though it didn't clear much up. "Soon I'll be your husband, and you'll be my wife, and we'll consummate the marriage like adults."

"I take it back, I am not marrying you." You teased.

"What? Waiting to cum isn't romantic?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"Really? Like, at all?"

"Well..." He said, rethinking his choice. "Maybe... just not with you." You chuckled and rolled your eyes at him.

You reached out for his hand and he happily interlocked your fingers, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. He was going to be your husband and you would be his wife. This is exactly how it was supposed to end.

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@richardsamboramylove55