#coathook

[littlefleamart]

(source)

[joearf]

2022.12.11: Would you hang your coat on this hook? - Tod’s Point, Old Greenwich, CT #coathook #todspoint #oldgreenwichct #rust #itneversleeps (at Tod's Point) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmDT5RQub09/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[qthomedecor]

8 Hook Racks with 3cm width and 55 cm length. Rack and hooks extend 2 inch out from the wall. Perfect length for hanging items such as coats, hats, clothing, robes, umbrellas or towels. Get your very own hook racks today @ https://www.qthomedecor.com/collections/modern-coat-racks

[mudroomcubbies]

Corner Coat Rack with 8 Hooks + Shoe Shelves! Do you want a compact hall tree that can fit into a corner of your entryway? This space-efficient corner coat rack can hold a lot of items. Plus, it has a chic rustic, industrial style. Advantages of a Smaller, Freestanding Coat Rack: First of all, its small-scale design enables this vintage-looking coat rack to work in some hallways. Therefore, you may be able to

[kennedysteve]

Mudroom Minneapolis Large farmhouse mudroom photo

[castielawasg]

New York Mudroom Large image of a farmhouse mudroom

[unbeknownstevents]

“Milk”

[hairtusk]

very pleasing selection of colours on our hallway coathook at the moment

[bullet-prooflove]

You & Only You: Luke Leone x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @rey4kat @caffeinatedwoman @vaneyvfs @keyweegirlie @littleone65 @@hoorayperfect @writeandsurvive @kikimagic2 

Companion piece to A Solitary Man

You’re already asleep when Luke gets in. It’s past two in the morning and the scent of lemon clings to his skin from the shower he’d taken back at the stationhouse. Everyone has their own remedy for chasing away the stench of a fire. Manny Perez swears by peppermint, with Eve it’s eucalyptus, Jake, he says lavender’s the best way to go.

For the Leone family it’s always been citrus. It’s why Vince has an undertone of orange blossom, their father used to too. It’s why Luke in his probie days went against the grain and tried lemons. He hasn’t looked back since.

He unlaces his boots at the door, hanging up his jacket on the coathook alongside yours. He finds himself smiling because it’s a reminder of how much you belong here, in his home, in his life.

He’s quiet when he lets himself into the bedroom, he strips off his uniform in the dark, tossing the clothes into the laundry hamper. You stir when he climbs into bed alongside of you, the heat of his naked skin warming yours through the old band t-shirt that you’re wearing. His arms wrap around you, drawing you close.  Your back comes to rest against his chest as he buries his face into the curve of your throat.

You sigh contently, your hand reaching back and threading through his damp hair.

This is what he needs at the  end of a long day, you and only you.

Love Luke? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[reasonableapproximation]

I've heard people say that a petard (as in "to be hoisted on one's own") is a type of jacket and a type of gallows, and I think one of those is true but I've looked it up multiple times and can never remember which it is.

But interestingly, they suggest slightly different interpretations of the phrase. If I'm hung up on the gallows I built (presumably for hanging other people up on), that's ironic, I'm the architect of my own demise. If I'm hung on a coathook by a jacket that I just happened to buy, that was never intended for hanging people on coathooks with, that's just kind of unfortunate.

[just-a-creep-babe]

just finished some college tests so heres some more college cryptid jackie because i said so

he definitely has everyone in his dorm halls room assignment memorized, and leaves notes about class events or general encouragement of one of the students needs it. most of the time he just uses the condensation on the windows to write it, but everyone started keeping some glass cleaner after one of the cheerleaders found out it wasnt lipstick smudged on her window

nobody's laid claim to the oversized jacket on the coathook by the door, but sometimes it just isnt there despite nobody having taken it. nobody really questions it, their just glad he's keeping himself warm

definitely co-tutors the anatomy and biology clubs, hes very patient with everyone there

will do dorm chores for the proper snack-rifices, mac and cheese is a tried-and-true fave

has only overslept in his 'designated' dorm once, and had to be very quickly removed before the cleaning crew came in to take some furniture out of it. was surprisingly nice to the football players that had to literally carry him out, but legend says the tar stains are still visible on their practice jerseys to this day

other than that, good luck ever catching him off guard

-campus cryptid anon

Ok but these headcanons are soo cuteeee 🥺🥺💖💞💓

[fengforhire]

location: the feng-luna household (not love shack pls) time: dinner time, some night pre-masquerade who: @bewiitcheds

The still-healing bruise on her cheek throbbed as Jac jogged up the familiar steps of the house where she'd been raised. She had been dodging stopping by since she'd been attacked by the hunter, mostly because she hadn't been sure how to explain any of it. And admitting that she had gotten attacked by a hunter would have led to other questions on how she protected herself and... well none of it mattered now since her mother said that she couldn't skip tonight.

Jac slowly unlocked the front door and walked through the foyer. She slipped off her shoes in the entryway and hung up her jacket on the coathook and made her way towards the dining room. "Mom?" she called out. It was quiet and Jac furrowed her brow. Usually her siblings were much more raucous.

She got her answer when she turned the corner and saw that the room was empty save for her mother. Swallowing hard, she tried not to touch her face as she sat down at the seat that was set for her. "Umm... is it just us tonight?"

[qthomedecor]

It’s so durable that it can carry most of your clothing and household items in a breeze. Also available in 3, 5, 8 and 12 hook variants.

Get your very own hook racks today at https://www.qthomedecor.com/collections/modern-coat-racks

[hamsterclaw]

Bangtan Christmas Drabble 7

New Year's cheer ft Seokjin

The man who walks into your bar on New Year's eve seems like he wants to celebrate with you.

Rating: 18+

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Explicit sex, guns

The man pulls aside the noren at the entrance of the bar but still has to duck elegantly before his head will fit under. He’s tall, and when you can see his face clearly you realise that he’s attractive, too. 

He has beautiful skin, full lips, broad shoulders and an uncompromising glint in his eyes.

You greet him cheerfully, gesturing to a seat a little distance away from the other patrons. 

He smiles at you and orders whiskey. 

You’ve just set the glass in front of him when two more men enter the bar.

You’re about to greet them when the first man sets both his hands on the bartop. 

With his left hand, he grips your wrist. 

With his right, he tosses back the whiskey you’ve served him, and reaches into his exquisitely tailored overcoat. 

His hand emerges with a gun. 

It’s sleek and deadly, and you have a sudden, crystal clear thought that it’s just like he is.

There are two pops, and the two men who entered your bar after him slump to the floor.

You’re opening your mouth to scream, and that’s when he pulls you forward, grip firm on your wrist.

‘They’re yakuza,’ he says. 

You say, ‘Everyone in this town is yakuza.’

His lips quirk in a rueful grin. ‘So I’ve discovered.’

‘Should have known you’re not from around here,’ you utter.

‘Someone who looks like me would definitely stand out in a place like this,’ he agrees.

You have no idea who’s called the police, but you can hear the sirens. 

The man from out of town vaults over the bar gracefully, plucks the bottle of whiskey off the back shelf, and takes you out of the bar with him.

‘Where are we going?’ you ask, walking fast to keep up with him. 

‘I’m going to kill you and toss you in a ditch, of course,’ he says. He smiles charmingly, but there’s a hardness in his eyes that makes you feel uneasy.

‘I won’t tell anyone what I saw,’ you assure him, belatedly.

He crosses the road without looking in either direction.

You’re warm from almost running to keep up with him, but the gust of wind makes you shiver.

‘Since you’re not from around here, I consider it my duty to tell you that the nearest ditch is not anywhere around here,’ you tell him, trying to be helpful.

He looks at you impatiently. You’re about to apologise when he slips off his coat and puts it over your shoulders. 

‘Don’t forget to take this back so they can’t trace the murder back to you,’ you tell him.

He stares at you. It’s too dark to really see but you get the sense he’s trying not to smile.

‘I should have chosen the bar next door,’ he says.

‘What? Lee Seonghoon’s a cheap fucker, you would have been served some watered down shit,’ you grumble.

‘Also he’s nowhere near as beautiful as you are,’ he murmurs.

‘He’s eighty,’ you retort. ‘That’s not the compliment you think it is.’

‘You’re as pretty as I am,’ he continues. ‘I don’t say that lightly.’

‘Well it’s New Years,’ you say, mollified. ‘I wanted to look pretty.’

‘Hot date after work?’ he inquires. He holds out his arm, and you slip your hand in the crook of it without really thinking about it.

You hurry along the street with him. 

‘I wanted to look pretty for me,’ you say. 

He glances at you. ‘Well you succeeded.’

He ushers you into an alleyway, through a side door, clicking on a light to reveal a sparse looking room with a sleeping mat in one corner and a small desk in another corner.

You shrug his coat off and give it back to him.

‘It looks good on you,’ he remarks, hanging it on a coathook.

Now there’s more light you can see the pale blue shirt he has on, the dark tie loosened at his throat, the matching waistcoat cut perfectly to emphasize the breadth of his shoulders and the trimness of his waist.

Your kidnapper and would-be murderer is a visual treat, at least.

He smiles at you charmingly. ‘Can you behave yourself whilst I attend to one last task before I leave this godforsaken place?’

‘It’s not that bad,’ you say, haughtily. ‘You haven’t really given it a chance.’

He says, ‘If you keep your smart mouth shut I’ll let you go after I’m done.’

You mime zipping up your lips and throwing away the key.

He sets the whiskey he’s filched from your bar down and pours a generous serving into two mugs.

‘Cheers,’ he says.

You unzip your lips to drink, and he laughs.

He sets his laptop on his lap, profile beautiful in the blue gleam, and starts typing swiftly.

His gun sits on the floor between you.

You undo the knot in the apron you wear at work, take it off, and fold it carefully, setting it aside.

His gaze flickers to yours, but he doesn’t say anything.

You make short work of the whiskey he’s poured you, and wordlessly, he lifts the bottle to pour you more.

Finally, he sets his laptop aside. 

‘I’m done, ahead of schedule,’ he tells you. 

Warm from the whiskey and his proximity, you smile at him. ‘Well done,’ you say, holding out a hand for him to shake.

His hand closes on your wrist again, and he exerts the faintest pressure, a tiny tug.

You find your face inches from his, and he’s just as beautiful up close. 

If he’s going to kill you tonight, you might as well have some fun, you figure.

You cup his cheek. 

He holds perfectly still until your lips touch his. You think he’s going to push you away, but instead he cups your head, fingers weaving into your hair, and pulls you closer.

His lips are firm, warm, and he tastes like your premium whiskey. 

It’s a heady combination.

You kiss over and over, lips parted, and when his tongue makes his way into your mouth you take him in willingly. 

He pulls back, breathless and flushed from your kisses, your lipstick staining his mouth.

He kisses down your neck, reaching the top button of your blouse as his hand clasps your thigh under your skirt.

You aren’t waiting around to be touched. Your own hands are roaming, one unbuttoning his waistcoat, the other on his belt.

He hums his enjoyment into your skin as he exposes more of your top half. Under your skirt, his hand’s reached your panties, his knuckles brushing your cunt, tantalisingly close to your clit.

You don’t realise you’re moving your hips until he slaps your thigh. 

‘I’ll get to it, impatient girl,’ he says.

You frown up at him as you cup his cock over his briefs.

Then the frown drops from your face, and you look down to verify what your hand already knows.

Shit. Your kidnapper’s hung like a stallion.

He’s looking at you, amused by your reaction.

‘Please,’ you say, not sure when your voice got so raspy. ‘You must get this all the time.’

‘My name is Seokjin,’ he says. ‘And yes, I do get this reaction all the time.’

He unzips your skirt deftly. 

You look up at him. ‘I’m Y/N,’ you tell him.

He stops, hand warm on your hip. 

‘Do you want to do this with me, Y/N?’ he asks, quietly. ‘We can stop if you don’t. I’m not going to hurt you.’

You smile, reassured. ‘Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted to ride a horse.’

He laughs, and presses an unexpectedly sweet kiss to your forehead. 

‘Better get on top then.’

He’s gentle with you, letting you set the pace when you finally have him all the way inside you. 

He rocks his hips against yours, eyes roaming your body with flattering intensity, hands alternating between your hips and your breasts as you ride him.

When you falter, unbearably close, he seems to know exactly what you need, turning you over so you’re underneath him, taking you the rest of the way.

He cums quietly, a gasp of breath like he’s drowning that you notice even though you’re in the throes of your own pleasure.

And then, he’s still, laying beside you under the half moon that’s hanging over the mountains, shining through his window.

You glance at the clock on the wall before you fall asleep, and realise it’s past midnight. 

It’s a new year.

You’re awakened by the zip of a duffel bag. 

When your eyes open you realise Seokjin’s got his back to you. 

The already sparse room is now empty save for your clothes, neatly folded and stacked in a tidy pile beside the sleeping mat.

He says, without turning around, ‘thank you for a lovely night.’

You say, ‘no problem.’

You get dressed quickly. 

He waits politely until you clear your throat and announce, ‘I’m ready.’

Then he turns, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. 

‘I’ve got to go,’ he tells you. ‘Can you make it back home?’

‘You’ve met me, haven’t you? Is there anything you think I can’t tackle?’ 

He laughs. ‘I don’t think so.’

You watch as he heads for the door. 

‘Hey,’ you say, and he stops, his broad back to you.

‘You still owe me for the whiskey.’

He turns, and it’s hard to see but you think there’s warmth in his eyes. 

‘Don’t worry,’ he says, beautiful and serene in the moonlight. ‘I’m coming back.’

He walks off without looking back, leaving footsteps in the snow.

©hamsterclaw 2022

And that's a wrap, folks. Hope you've enjoyed the ride, stay safe and see you in the new year!

Good luck and good night Kim Seokjin, can't wait to see you again 💜

[coryosfirstlady]

Pretty Girl - Coriolanus Snow

Description -

You are the daughter of Dr Volumnia Gaul, previously a close friend (and lover) of Coriolanus Snow. Until one night, a fight with your mother leaves you stranded with nowhere to go but The Snow Penthouse, despite Dr Gaul banning you from contacting Coryo ever again - and you and Coryo agreed to stay away from eachother as you only distracted eachother from your work. Although, what else could you do? Sorry guys, im new to the whole Tumblr thing, this is acc a snippet of my ao3 fanfic - "The Sound of Snow falling", so if you enjoy make sure to check it out :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/51943126/chapters/131348863

For what felt like hours, you sat alone, summer air enough to keep you from a shiver as the day drew along - deciding whether or not it would be socially acceptable to sleep on the central steps, or if your Capitol Influence had already taken a hit when you disappeared for two months. It was uncomfortable, that was evident, the gravelly yet fresh steps scraping at your skin through the thin dress you wore, the matching blazer draped over your shoulders.

They had only built the Gamemaker Hall a couple years ago, following the successes of the 10th and 11th Hunger Games - the Citadel becoming too small of a space for the research conducted, now the affluent marble-coated Hall housing more than enough of the equipment needed to murder 23 children each year. It marvelled you how easily you had broken into the guarded building after Flickerman's Feast - security lacking to a degree you could hardly comprehend, although you guessed the help of your cunning, now ex-friend Snow played a large part in the easy task.

Eyebrows furrowing, you realised the Snow Penthouse was only a few roads away - offering inevitable warmth and comfort that was severely insufficient where you currently sat, though you guessed Coryo wouldn't even open the door to you. Furthermore, you doubted you could possibly manage to stay with him for that long without your feelings for him driving you mad - yet another precaution that would only harden your current situation.

No matter what you told yourself, it did seem incredibly inviting - particularly as your Mother had commanded you to stay away, the rage still absently bubbling at the back of your mind, sourcing a need for defiance. To upset Gaul, that is what you convinced yourself as you stood from the steps and began to amble along the dark roads.

To upset Gaul, as you took the elevator to the top floor of the apartment building.

To upset Gaul, as you knocked gingerly on the door marked 'Snow'.

Cold and sweet, your eyes met his as he pulled the hinge - immediate confusion and somewhat annoyance lacing his expression, your stomach fluttering at even the sight of him.

"What the fuck are you doing here."

His words were impossibly sharp, yet months of knowing him so well assured you that this was the same facade he displayed to every Capitol resident - thick-skinned and hardened, inviting no such disagreement.

"I have nowhere else."

"Your mothers?"

"She sent me away."

Murmuring like a child confessing to their Mother, you watched as a deep sigh overtook his form - a hint of pity behind glassy eyes conveying a spark of hope.

Hesitantly, he let you in, shutting the door behind you as he attempted not to let his eyes fall on you for too long - well aware that if they did, he may just go crazy. Your perfume seemed to fill the air instantly, flooding unfairly into his nostrils as he took a step away to try to regain some control of the situation - his hands bawling to fists as he shoved them far into the pockets of his dark slacks.

'You can sleep in Tigris' old bedroom. She's away studying."

You briefly thanked him, pulling off your blazer and hanging it on the Coathook beside the door. The room you stood in was Grand - expensively decorated with a large dining table stretching across one half, the other with large armchairs and matching sofas placed strategically below a lavish chandelier, all leading to a slim hallway across your gaze.

Coryo began to walk away - you following him like a lost puppy, curious footsteps attempting to map out the large space.

"I'm going to my room. Call if you need something."

Silence.

"Yeah, um, of course."

Silence.

Coriolanus was growing painfully aware of the feeling in his chest as he stood across from you, warmth trickling slowly down his body - only to rest guiltily between his thighs. Fuck, he wanted you so badly - overwhelmingly, all controllingly. He hated himself for it.

Although, that hatred had never stopped him.

He turned with such ferocious yearning you thought he was about to strike you - flinching for a moment before he instead slammed his lips to yours with indescribable hunger, an attempt to drink every moment he missed of you from your lips. It was heavenly.

Reaching a hand to hold his jaw, bringing him closer, he released a breathy gasp into your mouth before pulling you backwards and onto the large dining table with powerful need, a clatter echoing around the room as you slammed against the wood - his heavy form already caged above you. It was hard to breathe, tounges deep in each other's mouths - desperate and starved, relapsing into an addiction that was sickeningly sweet - making you unsure whether the warmth prickling at your skin was pure arousal or the relief of touching him again. Your warmth began to throb as he occasionally relaxed his weight onto you, his spare hand reaching to grab your waist with more strength and force than he had ever touched you before - fingers grasping tight enough to leave a bruise, the pain delicious, forcing muffled moans into the kiss.

Writhing against each other as your bodies grew impatient, time seemed to race, heartbeats thumping so intimately against each other it almost fulfilled every moment you had missed.

"It was cruel of you to come over."

Coryo reprimanded, breath hot in your mouth as he spoke hopelessly into you - however not fazed or truly angry enough to draw his hands away from you, still desperately pawing your sides, sliding your dress up your thighs, mouth growing slick with the now shared saliva. "You don't care to seem too dearly."

The grunt in response seemed to ripple ecstatically along your body, pleasured shivers reaching down to your fingertips - now gently clawing at his back, breath hitching as his hand edged to your thigh, grabbing roughly at the fleshed underside - bare skin against his enough to make your eyes close in ecstasy.

As he pulled you closer, your pelvis brushed his - throbbing cock restrained by his slacks already making your cunt tense around nothing, his curious fingers eventually pulling the skimpy panties you wore down along your legs and onto the floor, his eyes drifting to you arrogantly as he brushed your dampness.

"You're so wet."

Accusingly, he said it - though you were too far in to accept the shame by now, instead rocking your hips closer to his hand in needy request, smirk twitching his pretty mouth. Without warning, he thrust two fingers into you, thumb practicedly playing with your clit, your whole body convulsing at the sudden pressure, back arching against the table with broken moans. He relished it, seeing you a bundled mess under his hands - proud you were his, only his to play with.

Vision beginning to haze from the already strong overwhelming, he continued pistoning his fingers cruelly into your cunt without mercy - some sort of revenge for teasing him so awfully for the past two weeks. Beginning to ease a third finger in, he watched as your eyes widened, looking down to see where his fingers met your pretty cunt.

"You can take it, baby, I know you can."

His words came out strained and gravelly, everything about you driving him to madness as he reached into you deeper, noticing the exact spot that made your eyes roll back in a beautiful lack of control.

"Is that where it is, baby?"

Hitting the same spot, he confirmed, pumping in and out down to his knuckles now - the moment your velvety walls began to tighten making his chest tighten with anticipation - dick pressing painfully against his pants.

You came surprisingly quickly, unable to hold yourself any longer - the touch driving your legs to shiver seemingly uncontrollably as Coryo finger-fucked you through it, prolonging the deep orgasm almost inhumanely. His careful arms hoisted you up as soon as you finished, wrapping your arms around his waist as he carried you to the large, affluent sofa in the other half of the room - placing you on his lap as he sat, eyes trained unforgivingly on your every moment.

Recovering as quickly as you could, you rolled yourself immediately away from his seated form, instead kneeling on the floor between his spread legs - tenting in his trousers fluttering through your already shaky limbs. Glancing up at him for approval, you slowly undid his belt, a smirk spreading across his face as he helped your lightly quivering hands pull away his trousers and underwear, revealing his throbbing cock, tip a deep red and glistening with precum. The night in the cabin, you had hardly seen it in the candlelit dimness, only felt the sheer size, yet now, looking upon him anxiously close - you worried you wouldn't be able to fit it into your mouth. Fuck it, you would try anyway.

Pride beckoned in your eyes as you gently placed your lips against the head of his cock, his neck immediately tensing in an attempt to hide his sharp breaths, your confidence immediately returning alongside a need to please him. You began to swish your tongue over the hotness, healthy hand reaching to stroke the base of his length as the splinted one traced light patterns into his thigh with your nails - savouring the look on his face as he bit his lip - his hand reaching to grab a handful of your hair, a gentle pull every time you made his cock twitch providing you with more then enough will to continue.

Your lips began to burn as you brought your head further down, stretch hitting the back of your throat - tears immediately threatening your eyes - his moans growing more shameless, low groans and gasps music to your ears.

"You feel amazing, fuck-"

He managed, hand bawling to a fist in your hair as you began to bob your head - his eyes screwing shut agonizingly tight.

Swirling your tongue over him, he flinched, muscles contracting - taking his whole cock almost sorely in your mouth, nose brushing the groomed hairs at the base in delectable pride. Staying in that position for longer than he could bare, his hips bucked against you, your own hand sliding along your body to toy with your clit, his breathless strives to hide his moans slickening you further.

His heartbeat became evident in your mouth as you bobbed again, muscles tensing and flinching at every detail in your movement - holding himself back to relish this moment for as long as he possibly could, his hand abruptly pulling your hair as he spilt into your throat, a low growl-like sound escaping his lips as you swallowed the salty thickness.

Eyes glued to you in admiring fondness, he pulled you back onto his lap, finally removing your dress to reveal the pretty tits he had craved to see again, immediately trying to make a mental note of the image - still hazed and fucked-out, yet so desperate for more. That feeling in his chest was still there, stronger and ever, and to him, lust needed to be sorted.

Grip returning to your hips, he gazed at you in an unfocused mess, crazed and fuckdrunk as you unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his muscled torso, immediately kissing your way down his neck as he aligned himself with your burning cunt - lowering your body onto him in a painful stretch that made your legs tense, nails scratching into his skin as you released a cry.

"Come on, baby, breathe through it."

Just as overwhelmed as you, he whispered into your ear, nuzzling against it fondly as you brought yourself off him, then back on, deeper into you this time, tip brushing that spot deep inside you as you stifled a moan. Rolling and grinding yourself against him, you shared frantic and already sensitive breaths, his abs tensing each time you lowered, hips bucking up into you desperately. Coryo's hand snaked back down to your cunt, circling your clit so overwhelmingly you could've passed out.

The eagerness for the other only heightened, the man below you driving his cock into you in perfect unison as you rode off him, pace quickening as the room echoed with pornographic slaps of his balls against your ass, your whimpers and pants contrasted with his low moans, sweat trickling down his forehead and onto yours. You were well aware your hymen was not going to be forgiving tomorrow morning.

The room grew hot with thirst, greediness and lust that only the other brought you, rough movements more frantic than you had been the first night you'd touched each other, overtaken with hungry need. Fluttering around him, you arched your back, leaning your head to the tall ceiling and screwing your eyes tight.

"m'gonna cum-"

You muffled, his grasp firm on your ass, holding tight as he thrust mercilessly into you. "go on, baby, let me see you-"

His hand reached to hold your jaw, tilting your face to lock eyes with him, gaze so intense on the other it held more emotion than your words ever could. A loud gasp erupted from your mouth, face morphing in uncontainable pleasure, coating his cock in your juices as you reached your high - better than any drug, yet more addictive. The extreme tightness paired with that expression on your face only made Coryo orgasm seconds later, gravelly groans filling the air between you as you sat, slumped against each other, dick softening inside you.

Coryo tiredly brought his hand to massage your shoulder as you rested yours against his chest, twirling your hair carefully between his fingers -gentle movements starkly different to the force he had previously impaled you with.

"You pretty, pretty girl."

A shy flutter flushed your cheeks, catching your breath in your throat in an innocent timidness like a girl with a crush - what you supposed you were, now. Every feeling towards him was so thick, suffocating you but in such a beautiful way.

For Snow, that feeling in his chest was yet to disappear - despite fucking you so well, physically unable to continue due to the sheer amount of effort he had ploughed into you with, the so-called lust was still well present. It had to be lust. What else could he possibly have the humane capacity for?

[jegulily-stuff]

After the war, James moves back into his childhood home with Lily, Reg, and Harry. For a while, Sirius and Remus stay there too, until they start to feel more comfortable being separated from each other again.

It's a bittersweet homecoming. His parents are dead now and James has never lived there without them.

Home isnt the same. Or maybe he isnt the same. But the house is still comforting, still familar. He'd always imagined raising his own family there. And they've spent enough time living in hiding.

James doesn't feel quite right taking the master bedroom -his parents' room. (And he thinks maybe he never will.) So he finds himself back in his own bedroom. There's a dedicated nursery, unused for years, but they end up settling Harry into the room next to James' instead. It's hard to feel comfortable leaving him further away than can be helped.

James' room is still decorated the way he had it as a teenager. Only a few years in the past in reality, but it feels like a window to a whole different life.

He quietly removes all the photos from the picture wall that have Peter in, and tucks them into an old textbook. He doesn't quite know what to do with those yet.

The room has a double bed, so James doesn't need to worry that it'll be too cramped now that he has his partners to share it with. They follow him in.

Lily's been in his bedroom a couple of times before, but Reg hasn't. He looks around like he's finally seeing something he's been picturing in his head for a long time. Although that's probably more to do with Sirius, than James.

James takes Reg's hands in his. He wants Reg to feel at home here. It was a far off, impossible wish when they were younger but it's so tangible now. So possible. That's a great sweetener to all the bitter things it took to get them here.

Lily takes off her jacket and hangs it on one of his coathooks. He wonders if she's going to start wearing his jerseys again. She did that the whole time she stayed here last time, and his wardrobe still has all his old Quidditch stuff in.

He looks at the ring on her finger - it still makes his chest swell with warmth when he sees it. They hadn't been married last time she'd been here, not even engaged.

A lifetime away, indeed.

James pulls both of them into his arms, and they curl up together on top of his red and gold duvet. It's everything teenage him had wanted, had dreamed of. A wild fantasy, really.

Both of the people he fancied lying with him in this bed, in this room. Reg out of the cult his family had been. Lily now in a world without a war that wanted her dead.

Safe.

His.

An impossible dream, achieved.

Despite everything else he's lost getting here, he has this to be grateful for. And the world is recovering, as they are. Their future will only be happier.